Well, unless something really amazing happens to me at the airport, this is going to be my last post. It's been a lot of fun writing about my travels, and now I have something to help me remember this semester when I'm old and senile and yelling at whippersnappers to get off my lawn. To wrap it up, I'm going to make a list of the top 10 things I will and won't miss about Spain (in no particular order).
I'll miss:
- The general laid-back, friendly attitude of Seville
- Being able to walk everywhere in under 45 minutes
- Learning new Spanish words and expressions
- Listening to my senora talk to/yell advice at the television, as she is doing right now ("He doesn't love you, he loves the other woman! Leave him!")
- The giant, well-maintained parks and the abundance of dogs
- The incredibly old, incredibly charming buildings
- Good, cheap public transportation (just 12 euro for a round-trip ticket to the beach)
- My Spanish amigos, my senora, and my American friends
- Telenovelas (Arrayan, Aguila Roja, Amar en Tiempos Revueltos)
- Having lots of other countries just a few hours away
I won't miss:
- The second-hand smoke
- Not being able to choose what/when I eat
- Getting hit on by sketchy dudes on the street
- Everything closing on Sunday and before 9:00 p.m.
- Not being able to express myself effectively
- The lack of heating/air conditioning in our apartment
- Having no reliable Internet connection
- Paying way too much for everything
- White asparagus
- Getting stuck in airports, and bus stations, and train stations
Well, thanks to everyone who read my blog this semester! If you're in the mood for some disgusting, greasy American food in the next few weeks I would love to go with you. This offer applies especially if you work for a publishing company and want to give me lots of money to travel and then whine about the places I visit. (Seriously, publishing companies, what the heck? I've been blogging for four solid months and I have yet to receive a multimillion dollar book deal.)
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Fotos de Sevilla
Wow, today is my second-to-last day in Seville! As expected, the semester has gone by so quickly. As I was skimming through my old posts, I realized that despite spending over four months here I haven't really talked about the actual city much. It's pretty much all trip reports to foreign countries and complaining about food. So let me use a few of the 235938745 pictures I've taken this semester to show you around Seville, arguably the most charming city in Spain.
PART 1: On the way to class
There are a bunch of tourist attractions and interesting sights in Seville, and I'm lucky enough to see almost all of them on my long, winding walk to class. I've also thrown in some random pictures of billboards and signs. These pictures appear in the rough order in which I pass by them.
This is a rooftop advertisement for Cruzcampo, the "national beer of Andalusia". I don't know why they bother to advertise-- nearly every bar in Seville carries Cruzcampo and nothing else (despite how bad it tastes).
The Plaza de Cuba, a leafy plaza next to the river and our usual meeting place. Literally every plaza/street/bridge is named after one of three things: religion, Spain's former colonies, or famous dead Spaniards.
This is the San Telmo Bridge, which I walk on at least once every day without exception. It's hard to see, but there are locks attached to the railing. There's currently a fad in which a couple will buy a lock, write their names on it, lock it to the bridge, and throw the key into the river to symbolize their eternal love. I don't really get it-- to me it says "Our love can be purchased for $1.99 at a hardware store and is very susceptible to bolt cutters."
A picture of the Guadalquivir River (the second-longest river in Spain) and the Torre del Oro, taken from the bridge. It's basically impossible to cross that bridge without seeing some tourist taking this exact picture, actually.
A close-up of the Torre del Oro. In case I haven't described it before, the Torre del Oro was a military watchtower built by the Muslims in the 13th century to protect the city. (Can't have worked very well, though, because they were booted from power less than 50 years after its construction. Oops.)
La Puerta de Jerez, one of the main plazas in Seville. I never knew what the fountain was supposed to be (it's a lady with some babies on the side), but I just looked it up and apparently it's supposed to represent the city itself? No idea where they got that from. If the lady was wearing a flamenco dress and chugging a bottle of Cruzcampo, I might be able to see it.
The entrance to the Real Alcazar, a Muslim fortress that was turned into a palace in the 14th century. Notice the lion wearing a crown and holding a cross-- yet another lion depiction done by someone who obviously had never seen a lion before.
The outer wall of the Alcazar, which successfully kept out enemies for centuries but cannot withstand the onslaught of tourists.
The "Patio of the Maidens", one of the many patios inside the Alcazar.
The gardens of the Alcazar. Since entrance is free for students, this is the best place in Seville to bring a book and spend a sunny afternoon.
The "Indian Archives" which house all sorts of documents and objects from the period immediately after Columbus accidentally ran into America. That was a good period for Spain (their Golden Age) because they transformed from a small, poor country into an economic powerhouse.
Seville's cathedral-- the third largest in the world, if you'll remember. It contains a bunch of random artifacts, such as the first Spanish flag ever produced. It also houses the bodies of Christopher Columbus and Saint Fernando, Seville's patron saint. (In fact, if you want to actually see San Fernando's corpse, they drag it out for viewing on his feast day. Gross.)
A picture of the interior of the cathedral. This is only one small section, though, it's physically impossible to capture how large this church is. It would probably take you 20 minutes to walk around the perimeter.
Goodness, was gold leaf on clearance or something when they designed this altar? The wall behind the altar is supposed to show important Biblical scenes to teach the illiterate, but it just makes my eyes hurt.
A tile depiction of the Giralda-- the tower of the cathedral-- on the floor in front of one of the altars. A very tricky picture to successfully get, due to all of the tourists clomping around (myself included, obviously).
A bird's-eye view of Seville from the Giralda.
The Giralda at night-- for once my camera's inability to take pictures without daylight actually produced a somewhat-interesting effect!
This is probably my favorite building in Spain, because the architecture is interesting and the bottom floor is a tiny sweetshop.
The back of Seville's Town Hall. For whatever reason, only half of the building is decorated like this. The other half has the same arches/windows/etc. but no extra decoration. Maybe it was bombed in the Spanish Civil War or something?
A massive old church whose name completely escapes me at the moment. There's a small plaza in front of the church which is constantly full of people drinking, smoking, and talking.
Like every self-respecting Spanish city, Seville has a monument to Christopher Columbus.
PART 2: Where I attend class
I took five courses in my time here-- three with my study-abroad program and two at the University of Seville. The study-abroad program headquarters was a refurbished 17th century palace, and my classes at the University were held in a renovated tobacco factory.
The patio of CIEE headquarters, with a fountain in the middle. They also decided to hang a bunch of flowers in mid-air sometime in the middle of the semester.
One of the hallways leading to classrooms. Pretty much everything in the program headquarters is yellow and white.
Looking upwards from the patio (more suspended flowers). On the roof there were a bunch of chairs and tables so people could sunbathe/study there.
A picture of the imposing main entrance to the University. If you've seen the 2003 version of "Carmen", you've seen this entrance. I have no idea why the sky looks so absurdly blue in this photo, by the way.
One of the patios inside of the University, with fountain. It's usually surrounded by smoking Spanish students, but I took this picture on a Saturday and it was completely deserted.
The interior of my "Publicity and Propaganda" class, which was probably my favorite class that I took here.
PART 3: Pictures of the apartment
Last but not least, here are some pictures of the apartment I lived in (and a bonus picture of my senora!) while here in Seville. I lived in on the third story of an apartment building in a neighborhood called "Los Remedios", just across the river from the main part of town.
This is my room. It's pretty Spartan, with no decorations and very basic furniture, but I like it. (However, I am going to be beside myself with joy when I get back to my bed at home. Don't think I'll leave it for a week or two.)
The kitchen. Like all Spanish kitchens I've seen (all two of them), it is very narrow and only permits one person at a time.
The living room. The TV is always on throughout meals-- lunchtime we watched news and dinnertime we watched Arrayan, which is a terrible/wonderful show about a bunch of people who work in a hotel. It's got an over-the-top villain, amnesia, love triangles... the works.
This is a typical lunch at my senora's house: main dish, salad, bread, and fruit. It's a lot-- I usually can't finish it all (and I can eat a disgusting amount in one sitting, so that's saying something).
Ramya, my senora, and me. Ramya left for home on Saturday morning, so it's just been me and senora for the past two days. Our communication hasn't improved-- last night I asked her if her older sister could remember World War II and she responded with "The World War involved lots of countries. The Spanish Civil War was a civil war, inside Spain." No wonder the woman got me a stuffed duck, she thinks I have the mental capacity of a five-year-old.
So that's it for a little picture-tour of Seville. I left a lot of things out, but you'll just have to come visit here yourself to see everything! Next up: a post comparing the predictions I made at the beginning of the semester to what actually happened.
PART 1: On the way to class
There are a bunch of tourist attractions and interesting sights in Seville, and I'm lucky enough to see almost all of them on my long, winding walk to class. I've also thrown in some random pictures of billboards and signs. These pictures appear in the rough order in which I pass by them.
This is a rooftop advertisement for Cruzcampo, the "national beer of Andalusia". I don't know why they bother to advertise-- nearly every bar in Seville carries Cruzcampo and nothing else (despite how bad it tastes).
The Plaza de Cuba, a leafy plaza next to the river and our usual meeting place. Literally every plaza/street/bridge is named after one of three things: religion, Spain's former colonies, or famous dead Spaniards.
This is the San Telmo Bridge, which I walk on at least once every day without exception. It's hard to see, but there are locks attached to the railing. There's currently a fad in which a couple will buy a lock, write their names on it, lock it to the bridge, and throw the key into the river to symbolize their eternal love. I don't really get it-- to me it says "Our love can be purchased for $1.99 at a hardware store and is very susceptible to bolt cutters."
A picture of the Guadalquivir River (the second-longest river in Spain) and the Torre del Oro, taken from the bridge. It's basically impossible to cross that bridge without seeing some tourist taking this exact picture, actually.
A close-up of the Torre del Oro. In case I haven't described it before, the Torre del Oro was a military watchtower built by the Muslims in the 13th century to protect the city. (Can't have worked very well, though, because they were booted from power less than 50 years after its construction. Oops.)
La Puerta de Jerez, one of the main plazas in Seville. I never knew what the fountain was supposed to be (it's a lady with some babies on the side), but I just looked it up and apparently it's supposed to represent the city itself? No idea where they got that from. If the lady was wearing a flamenco dress and chugging a bottle of Cruzcampo, I might be able to see it.
The entrance to the Real Alcazar, a Muslim fortress that was turned into a palace in the 14th century. Notice the lion wearing a crown and holding a cross-- yet another lion depiction done by someone who obviously had never seen a lion before.
The outer wall of the Alcazar, which successfully kept out enemies for centuries but cannot withstand the onslaught of tourists.
The "Patio of the Maidens", one of the many patios inside the Alcazar.
The gardens of the Alcazar. Since entrance is free for students, this is the best place in Seville to bring a book and spend a sunny afternoon.
The "Indian Archives" which house all sorts of documents and objects from the period immediately after Columbus accidentally ran into America. That was a good period for Spain (their Golden Age) because they transformed from a small, poor country into an economic powerhouse.
Seville's cathedral-- the third largest in the world, if you'll remember. It contains a bunch of random artifacts, such as the first Spanish flag ever produced. It also houses the bodies of Christopher Columbus and Saint Fernando, Seville's patron saint. (In fact, if you want to actually see San Fernando's corpse, they drag it out for viewing on his feast day. Gross.)
A picture of the interior of the cathedral. This is only one small section, though, it's physically impossible to capture how large this church is. It would probably take you 20 minutes to walk around the perimeter.
Goodness, was gold leaf on clearance or something when they designed this altar? The wall behind the altar is supposed to show important Biblical scenes to teach the illiterate, but it just makes my eyes hurt.
A tile depiction of the Giralda-- the tower of the cathedral-- on the floor in front of one of the altars. A very tricky picture to successfully get, due to all of the tourists clomping around (myself included, obviously).
A bird's-eye view of Seville from the Giralda.
The Giralda at night-- for once my camera's inability to take pictures without daylight actually produced a somewhat-interesting effect!
This is probably my favorite building in Spain, because the architecture is interesting and the bottom floor is a tiny sweetshop.
The back of Seville's Town Hall. For whatever reason, only half of the building is decorated like this. The other half has the same arches/windows/etc. but no extra decoration. Maybe it was bombed in the Spanish Civil War or something?
A massive old church whose name completely escapes me at the moment. There's a small plaza in front of the church which is constantly full of people drinking, smoking, and talking.
Like every self-respecting Spanish city, Seville has a monument to Christopher Columbus.
PART 2: Where I attend class
I took five courses in my time here-- three with my study-abroad program and two at the University of Seville. The study-abroad program headquarters was a refurbished 17th century palace, and my classes at the University were held in a renovated tobacco factory.
The patio of CIEE headquarters, with a fountain in the middle. They also decided to hang a bunch of flowers in mid-air sometime in the middle of the semester.
One of the hallways leading to classrooms. Pretty much everything in the program headquarters is yellow and white.
Looking upwards from the patio (more suspended flowers). On the roof there were a bunch of chairs and tables so people could sunbathe/study there.
A picture of the imposing main entrance to the University. If you've seen the 2003 version of "Carmen", you've seen this entrance. I have no idea why the sky looks so absurdly blue in this photo, by the way.
One of the patios inside of the University, with fountain. It's usually surrounded by smoking Spanish students, but I took this picture on a Saturday and it was completely deserted.
The interior of my "Publicity and Propaganda" class, which was probably my favorite class that I took here.
PART 3: Pictures of the apartment
Last but not least, here are some pictures of the apartment I lived in (and a bonus picture of my senora!) while here in Seville. I lived in on the third story of an apartment building in a neighborhood called "Los Remedios", just across the river from the main part of town.
This is my room. It's pretty Spartan, with no decorations and very basic furniture, but I like it. (However, I am going to be beside myself with joy when I get back to my bed at home. Don't think I'll leave it for a week or two.)
The kitchen. Like all Spanish kitchens I've seen (all two of them), it is very narrow and only permits one person at a time.
The living room. The TV is always on throughout meals-- lunchtime we watched news and dinnertime we watched Arrayan, which is a terrible/wonderful show about a bunch of people who work in a hotel. It's got an over-the-top villain, amnesia, love triangles... the works.
This is a typical lunch at my senora's house: main dish, salad, bread, and fruit. It's a lot-- I usually can't finish it all (and I can eat a disgusting amount in one sitting, so that's saying something).
Ramya, my senora, and me. Ramya left for home on Saturday morning, so it's just been me and senora for the past two days. Our communication hasn't improved-- last night I asked her if her older sister could remember World War II and she responded with "The World War involved lots of countries. The Spanish Civil War was a civil war, inside Spain." No wonder the woman got me a stuffed duck, she thinks I have the mental capacity of a five-year-old.
So that's it for a little picture-tour of Seville. I left a lot of things out, but you'll just have to come visit here yourself to see everything! Next up: a post comparing the predictions I made at the beginning of the semester to what actually happened.
Friday, May 14, 2010
I'm no Miss Cleo: Predictions
Now that the semester is coming to a close (I seriously can't believe I leave in three days), I'd like to take a quick look back at the predictions I made before I got here and see how accurate they turned out to be.
1. I'm going to hate it for the first two weeks or so, before I get acclimated to only speaking Spanish and different meal schedules and such. After I stop being a massive baby, I'll have fun.
False. I liked it immediately. About two months into the program, however, I started to get tired of everything (the lack of food, the inability to communicate easily, etc) and wanted to come home. After about a week of that mid-semester slump I was back to loving it again.
2. On that note, I will spend progressively less and less time on the Internet (and on this blog) as the semester goes on.
False. I had much more to talk about by the end of the semester, so I'd say that despite the lack of reliable Internet my overall time online increased. I'm actually really proud that I didn't give up on this blog all semester (I'm definitely a quitter).
3. My host family will consist of one older woman (age 60 or so). She won't speak English at all, and thus our conversations will consist mainly of weather and food-related topics. Also, her apartment won't have Internet access.
True. Though I didn't anticipate having two different senoras, this prediction accurately describes both of them.
4. At some point, something in my possession will get stolen. I'm just too careless and untraveled for it not to happen, and my money's on my terrible old camera.
True. I was lucky, though-- the only thing stolen from me during this trip was my umbrella. I took it to the public library, left it in the area where you're supposed to leave umbrellas, and came back an hour later to find out that it had disappeared. It was pouring outside when it happened, too.
5. I will fail to learn to appreciate wine. People keep telling me that Spain is going to change my mind, but at the moment I think it tastes like nail polish remover.
False. Wine is still not my favorite drink by any means, but I've made an effort to order a glass every time we get tapas, and some of it has been pretty decent.
6. I will take an unbelievably excessive number of pictures. Like, pictures of shrubs and random people and passing dogs. Hopefully I upload them to a computer before my camera gets stolen (see prediction four).
True. When on a trip, I averaged about 100 pictures for each day that I was there. When not traveling, I still kept my camera on me at all times. I have, without exaggeration, 20 pictures of the Torre del Oro alone. My hard drive is buckling under the weight of all of these photos.
7. The hotel we are staying at for orientation actually has a KFC across the street from it. For a while I was indignant about it, but now I can say with about 90% certainty that I will be hitting that place up.
True. I resisted American food of any kind for the first three months, then cracked in Barcelona last month. And I have no regrets! American food rules!
8. Though I'll be in completely over my head in all of my classes, my favorite class will be "Perceptions of the U.S. in Spain: 100 Years of Myths and Stereotypes."
False. I actually ended up dropping that class for one that fit better in my schedule. However, I did go to the class once and it seemed incredibly dry and boring.
9. My favorite country will be Italy. My least favorite country will be Morocco, but if we're limiting it to Europe it will be France. I am basing these predictions 100% on stereotypes and stories I've heard (Morocco, you are one scary country, just saying).
False. Thanks to the volcano I never made it to Italy. So, the countries I actually made it to are limited to Spain, Portugal, France, Morocco. Wow, it's hard to pick a favorite and a least favorite. I'm going to go with Spain as my favorite and Morocco as my least favorite, even though it was amazing. It's definitely the place I'd least want to live, but I had a great time there.
10. My favorite things about Spain will be the language, the food, and the architecture. My least favorite things about Spain will be the lack of air conditioning/heating, their eating schedule, and the distance at which they talk to each other. (It's uncomfortable! I'm not a close-talker!)
False. Though to be fair, this was a complicated prediction. I did like the language and the architecture, but not the food. I didn't like the lack of air conditioning/heating or the eating schedule, but I didn't notice a difference in the distance in which they talk to one another. I mean, I definitely got jostled around on the street more than usual, but people talking to me usually kept a reasonable distance.
So overall I got four out of ten predictions correct, more or less. Even in the lenient Spanish grading system, I'd fail (you need 50% to pass.) Oh well, it was fun!
1. I'm going to hate it for the first two weeks or so, before I get acclimated to only speaking Spanish and different meal schedules and such. After I stop being a massive baby, I'll have fun.
False. I liked it immediately. About two months into the program, however, I started to get tired of everything (the lack of food, the inability to communicate easily, etc) and wanted to come home. After about a week of that mid-semester slump I was back to loving it again.
2. On that note, I will spend progressively less and less time on the Internet (and on this blog) as the semester goes on.
False. I had much more to talk about by the end of the semester, so I'd say that despite the lack of reliable Internet my overall time online increased. I'm actually really proud that I didn't give up on this blog all semester (I'm definitely a quitter).
3. My host family will consist of one older woman (age 60 or so). She won't speak English at all, and thus our conversations will consist mainly of weather and food-related topics. Also, her apartment won't have Internet access.
True. Though I didn't anticipate having two different senoras, this prediction accurately describes both of them.
4. At some point, something in my possession will get stolen. I'm just too careless and untraveled for it not to happen, and my money's on my terrible old camera.
True. I was lucky, though-- the only thing stolen from me during this trip was my umbrella. I took it to the public library, left it in the area where you're supposed to leave umbrellas, and came back an hour later to find out that it had disappeared. It was pouring outside when it happened, too.
5. I will fail to learn to appreciate wine. People keep telling me that Spain is going to change my mind, but at the moment I think it tastes like nail polish remover.
False. Wine is still not my favorite drink by any means, but I've made an effort to order a glass every time we get tapas, and some of it has been pretty decent.
6. I will take an unbelievably excessive number of pictures. Like, pictures of shrubs and random people and passing dogs. Hopefully I upload them to a computer before my camera gets stolen (see prediction four).
True. When on a trip, I averaged about 100 pictures for each day that I was there. When not traveling, I still kept my camera on me at all times. I have, without exaggeration, 20 pictures of the Torre del Oro alone. My hard drive is buckling under the weight of all of these photos.
7. The hotel we are staying at for orientation actually has a KFC across the street from it. For a while I was indignant about it, but now I can say with about 90% certainty that I will be hitting that place up.
True. I resisted American food of any kind for the first three months, then cracked in Barcelona last month. And I have no regrets! American food rules!
8. Though I'll be in completely over my head in all of my classes, my favorite class will be "Perceptions of the U.S. in Spain: 100 Years of Myths and Stereotypes."
False. I actually ended up dropping that class for one that fit better in my schedule. However, I did go to the class once and it seemed incredibly dry and boring.
9. My favorite country will be Italy. My least favorite country will be Morocco, but if we're limiting it to Europe it will be France. I am basing these predictions 100% on stereotypes and stories I've heard (Morocco, you are one scary country, just saying).
False. Thanks to the volcano I never made it to Italy. So, the countries I actually made it to are limited to Spain, Portugal, France, Morocco. Wow, it's hard to pick a favorite and a least favorite. I'm going to go with Spain as my favorite and Morocco as my least favorite, even though it was amazing. It's definitely the place I'd least want to live, but I had a great time there.
10. My favorite things about Spain will be the language, the food, and the architecture. My least favorite things about Spain will be the lack of air conditioning/heating, their eating schedule, and the distance at which they talk to each other. (It's uncomfortable! I'm not a close-talker!)
False. Though to be fair, this was a complicated prediction. I did like the language and the architecture, but not the food. I didn't like the lack of air conditioning/heating or the eating schedule, but I didn't notice a difference in the distance in which they talk to one another. I mean, I definitely got jostled around on the street more than usual, but people talking to me usually kept a reasonable distance.
So overall I got four out of ten predictions correct, more or less. Even in the lenient Spanish grading system, I'd fail (you need 50% to pass.) Oh well, it was fun!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Cumpleanos Feliz: My 22nd Birthday
Well, last Monday was my 22nd birthday. Seeing as it was A) right before finals and B) in a foreign country, I didn't expect anything fancy. In fact, I didn't expect anything at all-- I thought I'd just buy myself some churros on the way home from class and call it a day. However, everyone here surprised me and made it amazing.
First, a few days before my birthday a few of my friends from the study-abroad program decided to treat me to dinner. Which fine dining establishment did I choose? A hamburger and pizza place called Sloppy Joe's... basically the closest thing to real American food you can get in Spain without resorting to McDonald's. I know, I know, I should be enjoying Spanish food in my last few weeks here, but it was my birthday and there was no way I wasn't having a bacon cheeseburger.
The group at Sloppy Joe's, taking a short break from stuffing our faces. Emme's taking the picture because we didn't want to ask our waiter for a group shot-- he was possibly the surliest waiter in all of Spain (and that's saying something).
After dinner we were all completely stuffed, but no birthday dinner is complete without something sweet and fattening. We decided to walk 30 minutes across town to what is arguably Seville's best ice cream shop, Rayas.
It's no Funfetti cake with chocolate icing (truly the king of all birthday cakes), but the ice cream was really delicious.
After getting ice cream I went dancing with my intercambio and a few of her friends. Wait a second, I don't think I've mentioned my intercambio on here before. Basically, the University of Seville has an program where Spanish students who are interested in practicing their English meet with American students who want to practice their Spanish. My intercambio is named Dulce (which means "sweet" in Spanish) and her name is terribly fitting. She's 31 years old, she's enthusiastic about everything, she writes plays, she's super generous, and she lives in the bohemian, hippie area of town. We started out just getting coffee once a week but now we hang out regularly and do random stuff together. She's awesome-- we teach each other all sorts of helpful words and phrases. (Though the other day she asked me what "douchebag" meant. Have you ever tried to put in words what that means? It's tough.)
Me, Alejandro and Dulce. At this point this picture was taken it was 2:00 in the morning. I was exhausted so I headed back to my house, but they ended up staying until about 5:00 a.m. And this is a regular thing! Maybe I'm just prematurely middle-aged but I honestly don't understand how Spaniards do it.
On Monday, my actual birthday, I came home after classes to find a wrapped package on my desk. At first I thought it must be from Ramya, my roommate, but the note was barely legible and written in very-grammatically-incorrect Spanish. Gotta be from my senora. But what could she possibly have gotten me? As I've said, literally the only thing she knows about me is that I'll eat anything she puts in front of me. She doesn't even know my name most of the time (which is extra-ridiculous because Laura is the fourth most common girl's name in all of Spain).
A picture of the mystery present. Oh man, the suspense!
So I open it, with much anticipation, to reveal... a duck. A medium-sized stuffed duck. The kind you give to children. It has a bow around its neck and it quacks (really loudly) when you squeeze it. My first thought upon seeing it: "You have got to be kidding me." My second thought: "I LOVE IT!!!" I laughed for five minutes straight, then composed myself and went out and thanked my senora profusely for the best gift I've ever gotten.
He doesn't have a name yet, but I am very open to suggestions from everyone.
Me and this duck are basically best friends now. Getting him home is going to be interesting-- my suitcase will probably quack all the way to New Jersey.
A few days after my birthday, I hung out with Dulce again. I had mentioned that my birthday was coming up on Saturday, and she insisted on getting me a present even though I told her she shouldn't. We got coffee, sat down, and she revealed my present: a bag of six dinner rolls and a birthday card that was still wrapped in plastic (nope, nothing written on it). For the second time in two days I burst out laughing and thanked someone repeatedly for a gift so bewildering that it circled around into being awesome.
After I opened my present, she decided that it was time to sing Happy Birthday (it's "Cumpleanos Feliz" in Spanish, with the same tune). She then got out her lighter-- like most Spanish people I know, she's a dedicated smoker-- stuck it in one of the rolls, and flicked it on. She then forced me to sing Happy Birthday to MYSELF in English because she wanted to hear how it sounded. So there I am sitting in a cafe, singing happy birthday to myself while my Spanish friend holds a lighter on in a dinner roll-- which also happens to be my present. Are you kidding me?
In summary, my 22nd birthday was really great. I love my American friends here, my wonderful senora, and my crazy intercambio, and I'm going to miss everyone!
First, a few days before my birthday a few of my friends from the study-abroad program decided to treat me to dinner. Which fine dining establishment did I choose? A hamburger and pizza place called Sloppy Joe's... basically the closest thing to real American food you can get in Spain without resorting to McDonald's. I know, I know, I should be enjoying Spanish food in my last few weeks here, but it was my birthday and there was no way I wasn't having a bacon cheeseburger.
The group at Sloppy Joe's, taking a short break from stuffing our faces. Emme's taking the picture because we didn't want to ask our waiter for a group shot-- he was possibly the surliest waiter in all of Spain (and that's saying something).
After dinner we were all completely stuffed, but no birthday dinner is complete without something sweet and fattening. We decided to walk 30 minutes across town to what is arguably Seville's best ice cream shop, Rayas.
It's no Funfetti cake with chocolate icing (truly the king of all birthday cakes), but the ice cream was really delicious.
After getting ice cream I went dancing with my intercambio and a few of her friends. Wait a second, I don't think I've mentioned my intercambio on here before. Basically, the University of Seville has an program where Spanish students who are interested in practicing their English meet with American students who want to practice their Spanish. My intercambio is named Dulce (which means "sweet" in Spanish) and her name is terribly fitting. She's 31 years old, she's enthusiastic about everything, she writes plays, she's super generous, and she lives in the bohemian, hippie area of town. We started out just getting coffee once a week but now we hang out regularly and do random stuff together. She's awesome-- we teach each other all sorts of helpful words and phrases. (Though the other day she asked me what "douchebag" meant. Have you ever tried to put in words what that means? It's tough.)
Me, Alejandro and Dulce. At this point this picture was taken it was 2:00 in the morning. I was exhausted so I headed back to my house, but they ended up staying until about 5:00 a.m. And this is a regular thing! Maybe I'm just prematurely middle-aged but I honestly don't understand how Spaniards do it.
On Monday, my actual birthday, I came home after classes to find a wrapped package on my desk. At first I thought it must be from Ramya, my roommate, but the note was barely legible and written in very-grammatically-incorrect Spanish. Gotta be from my senora. But what could she possibly have gotten me? As I've said, literally the only thing she knows about me is that I'll eat anything she puts in front of me. She doesn't even know my name most of the time (which is extra-ridiculous because Laura is the fourth most common girl's name in all of Spain).
A picture of the mystery present. Oh man, the suspense!
So I open it, with much anticipation, to reveal... a duck. A medium-sized stuffed duck. The kind you give to children. It has a bow around its neck and it quacks (really loudly) when you squeeze it. My first thought upon seeing it: "You have got to be kidding me." My second thought: "I LOVE IT!!!" I laughed for five minutes straight, then composed myself and went out and thanked my senora profusely for the best gift I've ever gotten.
He doesn't have a name yet, but I am very open to suggestions from everyone.
Me and this duck are basically best friends now. Getting him home is going to be interesting-- my suitcase will probably quack all the way to New Jersey.
A few days after my birthday, I hung out with Dulce again. I had mentioned that my birthday was coming up on Saturday, and she insisted on getting me a present even though I told her she shouldn't. We got coffee, sat down, and she revealed my present: a bag of six dinner rolls and a birthday card that was still wrapped in plastic (nope, nothing written on it). For the second time in two days I burst out laughing and thanked someone repeatedly for a gift so bewildering that it circled around into being awesome.
After I opened my present, she decided that it was time to sing Happy Birthday (it's "Cumpleanos Feliz" in Spanish, with the same tune). She then got out her lighter-- like most Spanish people I know, she's a dedicated smoker-- stuck it in one of the rolls, and flicked it on. She then forced me to sing Happy Birthday to MYSELF in English because she wanted to hear how it sounded. So there I am sitting in a cafe, singing happy birthday to myself while my Spanish friend holds a lighter on in a dinner roll-- which also happens to be my present. Are you kidding me?
In summary, my 22nd birthday was really great. I love my American friends here, my wonderful senora, and my crazy intercambio, and I'm going to miss everyone!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
What a Load of Bull: Corrida de Toros
Yesterday Ramya, Victoria and I tried out something uniquely Spanish: a corrida de toros, also known as a bullfight. None of us had very high expectations (I'm only in favor of animals being killed if I get to eat them) but it was a cultural experience that we wanted to see before we left Andalusia.
The outside of the Plaza de Toros in Seville. Interesting fact #1: it's the oldest bullfighting ring in Spain.
A statue of Curro Romero, a famous torero from Seville. He was a professional bullfighter for 42 years and participated in almost 900 bullfights. In 1997 the Spanish government awarded him a medal for his achievements in the fine arts. Umm... what? I know art is subjective but I don't know if bull slaughter is comparable to painting.
We got our tickets, went inside, found our seats, and waited a few minutes for the show to start. There were a good number of people there, both tourists and Spaniards. After the bullfight started, you could easily tell who the Spaniards were because they were the only ones who knew what was going on. Also they were much less likely to be hiding their eyes.
What has two thumbs and is ready to watch all kinds of gruesome deaths? This guy!
Now, a real Spanish bullfight is very different than you'd think. It's not one bull and one matador: there are actually six bulls and three matadors, each of whom has six assistants. The matador doesn't kill the bull in just one blow: the bull is actually stabbed many times before its death. I'll describe the structure of a bullfight below, using my pictures.
Part 1: The bull runs out, and immediately charges at the matador and the banderilleros (assistants with pink capes) who take turns waving capes at it. The purpose of this stage is to tire out the bull and to allow the matador to observe the bull's behavior (which side it favors, how it acts, how fast it can run, etc).
Part 2: Two men on horseback (called picadores) come out with lances. This is where things get bloody: each one takes a turn stabbing the bull in the back of the neck. If they hit the right area, the bull's neck muscles will weaken significantly and it will hold its head lower for the rest of the fight, making things safer for the matador. When they stab the bull, however, the bull always charges the horse they're sitting on. The horse is wearing protection (a massive mat-type cover), but it's still definitely painful for the horse and uncomfortable to watch.
Interesting fact #2: before 1930 the horses didn´t have any protection, and the bull would usually disembowel the horse at this point in the bullfight. Gross. The number of horses killed during a fight was actually higher than the number of bulls killed.
Part 3: Each of the three banderilleros stick (or attempt to stick) two sharp knives into the bull's shoulder. They tempt the bull into running at them, hold the knives up straight up, and then jam them down as they dodge out of the bull's way. This further weakens and angers the bull, who at this point has lost a significant amount of blood.
The best picture I have of this stage, alas. The man on the right is holding two of the knives and you can see one (they're very brightly colored) in his right hand.
Part 4: The matador re-enters the ring with the famous red cape and a sword. He uses this cape to attract the bull in a series of passes that serve to exhaust the bull and delight the crowd. It ends when the matador maneuvers the bull close enough to him that he can stab it through the shoulder blades and into the heart. The ideal end to this stage is immediate death for the bull, but we unfortunately didn't see one.
If the matador has performed very well, the crowd will wave white handkerchiefs to suggest that he should be awarded an ear of the bull he has just killed. If the performance was exceptional, he will get both ears. As for what you do with a bull ear once you get it, exactly, is beyond me. Make it into a necklace? Bronze it and put it on the mantel? Throw it away because it is a BULL'S EAR and that is disgusting?
Interesting fact #3: It's a common misconception that the color red is supposed to anger the bull. In fact, bulls are color-blind: they just go after movement.
Just before going in for the kill. Poor little bull, I'm not squeamish but he's super bloody.
After everything is over, a team of horses drags the bull away and a bunch of men come out to quickly clean the arena for the next horrific killing.
Bullfighting is an interesting cultural experience, but I will certainly never go to another one, for the following reasons. 1.) I just really, really don't like watching things die. Seeing as there are six horrible deaths every bullfight, this probably isn't the form of entertainment for me. 2.) Unlike other sporting events, the result of a bullfight is always the same: dead bull. There's no way that the bull can possibly survive, which is no fun at all. All I am saying, is give bulls a chance. 3.) I'm a Taurus. That means those are my astrological brethren out there being killed. 4.) My favorite basketball team growing up was the Chicago Bulls. Would you want Michael Jordan to get stabbed in the back six times for someone's viewing pleasure? I think not.
In conclusion, don't go to bullfights.
The outside of the Plaza de Toros in Seville. Interesting fact #1: it's the oldest bullfighting ring in Spain.
A statue of Curro Romero, a famous torero from Seville. He was a professional bullfighter for 42 years and participated in almost 900 bullfights. In 1997 the Spanish government awarded him a medal for his achievements in the fine arts. Umm... what? I know art is subjective but I don't know if bull slaughter is comparable to painting.
We got our tickets, went inside, found our seats, and waited a few minutes for the show to start. There were a good number of people there, both tourists and Spaniards. After the bullfight started, you could easily tell who the Spaniards were because they were the only ones who knew what was going on. Also they were much less likely to be hiding their eyes.
What has two thumbs and is ready to watch all kinds of gruesome deaths? This guy!
Now, a real Spanish bullfight is very different than you'd think. It's not one bull and one matador: there are actually six bulls and three matadors, each of whom has six assistants. The matador doesn't kill the bull in just one blow: the bull is actually stabbed many times before its death. I'll describe the structure of a bullfight below, using my pictures.
Part 1: The bull runs out, and immediately charges at the matador and the banderilleros (assistants with pink capes) who take turns waving capes at it. The purpose of this stage is to tire out the bull and to allow the matador to observe the bull's behavior (which side it favors, how it acts, how fast it can run, etc).
Part 2: Two men on horseback (called picadores) come out with lances. This is where things get bloody: each one takes a turn stabbing the bull in the back of the neck. If they hit the right area, the bull's neck muscles will weaken significantly and it will hold its head lower for the rest of the fight, making things safer for the matador. When they stab the bull, however, the bull always charges the horse they're sitting on. The horse is wearing protection (a massive mat-type cover), but it's still definitely painful for the horse and uncomfortable to watch.
Interesting fact #2: before 1930 the horses didn´t have any protection, and the bull would usually disembowel the horse at this point in the bullfight. Gross. The number of horses killed during a fight was actually higher than the number of bulls killed.
Part 3: Each of the three banderilleros stick (or attempt to stick) two sharp knives into the bull's shoulder. They tempt the bull into running at them, hold the knives up straight up, and then jam them down as they dodge out of the bull's way. This further weakens and angers the bull, who at this point has lost a significant amount of blood.
The best picture I have of this stage, alas. The man on the right is holding two of the knives and you can see one (they're very brightly colored) in his right hand.
Part 4: The matador re-enters the ring with the famous red cape and a sword. He uses this cape to attract the bull in a series of passes that serve to exhaust the bull and delight the crowd. It ends when the matador maneuvers the bull close enough to him that he can stab it through the shoulder blades and into the heart. The ideal end to this stage is immediate death for the bull, but we unfortunately didn't see one.
If the matador has performed very well, the crowd will wave white handkerchiefs to suggest that he should be awarded an ear of the bull he has just killed. If the performance was exceptional, he will get both ears. As for what you do with a bull ear once you get it, exactly, is beyond me. Make it into a necklace? Bronze it and put it on the mantel? Throw it away because it is a BULL'S EAR and that is disgusting?
Interesting fact #3: It's a common misconception that the color red is supposed to anger the bull. In fact, bulls are color-blind: they just go after movement.
Just before going in for the kill. Poor little bull, I'm not squeamish but he's super bloody.
After everything is over, a team of horses drags the bull away and a bunch of men come out to quickly clean the arena for the next horrific killing.
Bullfighting is an interesting cultural experience, but I will certainly never go to another one, for the following reasons. 1.) I just really, really don't like watching things die. Seeing as there are six horrible deaths every bullfight, this probably isn't the form of entertainment for me. 2.) Unlike other sporting events, the result of a bullfight is always the same: dead bull. There's no way that the bull can possibly survive, which is no fun at all. All I am saying, is give bulls a chance. 3.) I'm a Taurus. That means those are my astrological brethren out there being killed. 4.) My favorite basketball team growing up was the Chicago Bulls. Would you want Michael Jordan to get stabbed in the back six times for someone's viewing pleasure? I think not.
In conclusion, don't go to bullfights.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Viva La Feria!
We arrived back in Seville on Sunday around 8:30 a.m. As we were walking home from the station, we passed countless people in flamenco dresses and traditional Spanish clothing stumbling drunkenly home after a very long night. That, right there, is the essence of Feria.
What is Feria?
La Feria de Abril is basically a week-long party. A giant section of the town, which remains empty for the rest of the year, is converted into a massive fairground. There are two main halves of the fairground: one half of the area contains the casetas (tents where people eat, drink, and dance), the other half contains the rides. It started as a regular livestock fair in 1847 but within 50 years it transformed into the extravaganza that it is today. (Only in Spain would they turn a livestock fair into an excuse to party, I love it!)
The main entrance to the Feria. Each year a new one is built-- this one represents the centennial of the first flight to leave from Seville. In addition, it spells "NO8DO", Seville's city slogan. (It's a long story, but it means "Seville hasn't left me".)
We arrived at Feria and spent the first hour walking around the caseta half of the fairgrounds, marveling at the people's outfits, and sneaking photos of people dancing inside the tents.
Men wearing traditional Spanish clothes. I have no idea why they're on horseback, but I like it!
The outside of the casetas. Some are run by businesses, some are run by the local government, and some are family-owned and have gone back for decades.
The inside of a random caseta. Literally every single one is this well-decorated and adorable!
I wanted pictures of flamenco dresses but I didn't want the people wearing them to notice me. Result: there are a lot of shots of people's backs in my photo album.
A woman in a flamenco dress buying some cotton candy ("Algodon Dulce", or sweet cotton).
Next, we headed towards the half of the fairgrounds with the rides. It had more rides than I've ever seen in one area and was absolutely packed with people. We walked around until we found a place selling chocolate-filled churros and couldn't resist buying some. (Take a funnel cake and cover it in Nutella. That's what they taste like.)
The happiest moment of my life!
Next, we walked around trying to decide what rides we wanted to go on. Here are pictures of some of the rides at the fair:
That last one is called "La Carcel" (The Prison). You stand in a cage (with no restraints, no padding, and nothing to hang onto besides the metal bars) and are thrown around in a circle. Ramya and I wanted to ride at least one ride, and we chose that one thinking it wouldn't be too bad. MISTAKE. Combine my lack of upper body strength with the sunscreen that was all over my hands, and I was hanging on to those bars for dear life. By the time the ride was over, both my arms and my dignity were terribly bruised.
In a state of shock after the ride. I want a shirt that says "I (just barely) survived La Carcel".
Around nine we headed back to the house, ate a quick dinner, and then walked right back-- luckily, our apartment is about four blocks away from the fairground. Feria is different at night: the weather is cooler, there are fewer children, and there's definitely more singing, dancing, and drinking. (Though trust me, those things happen all day too.)
The main entrance is even better at night!
The rides section of the fairground at night. That Ferris Wheel was the fastest-moving Ferris Wheel I've ever seen, by the way. I'm pretty sure none of these rides would last in the U.S. due to lawsuits.
The ground is absolutely LITTERED with things at the end of the day: papers, bottles, cans, wrappers, you name it.
Boxes of bottles of wine that one (count it, one) caseta drank during the week of Feria. There are so many boxes that I couldn't get them all in the photo. Impressive.
At midnight that night, they turned off the lights and Feria was over. To end the party, there was a fireworks show. I wish I could have been there longer, but at least I got to see a full day of the madness.
Conclusion: Feria is amazing!!! It's noisy and crowded and hectic and hot and bright and colorful and 100% fun. In my opinion, it blows Semana Santa out of the water completely. It's really too bad that we don't have something similar the United States... anyone down for helping me start that up when I get back?
**Even though I didn't see her at all during Feria, this blog post is dedicated to Tamara Kerkenmeyer because she bought me ice cream on my birthday. Tamara, you're the best.**
What is Feria?
La Feria de Abril is basically a week-long party. A giant section of the town, which remains empty for the rest of the year, is converted into a massive fairground. There are two main halves of the fairground: one half of the area contains the casetas (tents where people eat, drink, and dance), the other half contains the rides. It started as a regular livestock fair in 1847 but within 50 years it transformed into the extravaganza that it is today. (Only in Spain would they turn a livestock fair into an excuse to party, I love it!)
The main entrance to the Feria. Each year a new one is built-- this one represents the centennial of the first flight to leave from Seville. In addition, it spells "NO8DO", Seville's city slogan. (It's a long story, but it means "Seville hasn't left me".)
We arrived at Feria and spent the first hour walking around the caseta half of the fairgrounds, marveling at the people's outfits, and sneaking photos of people dancing inside the tents.
Men wearing traditional Spanish clothes. I have no idea why they're on horseback, but I like it!
The outside of the casetas. Some are run by businesses, some are run by the local government, and some are family-owned and have gone back for decades.
The inside of a random caseta. Literally every single one is this well-decorated and adorable!
I wanted pictures of flamenco dresses but I didn't want the people wearing them to notice me. Result: there are a lot of shots of people's backs in my photo album.
A woman in a flamenco dress buying some cotton candy ("Algodon Dulce", or sweet cotton).
Next, we headed towards the half of the fairgrounds with the rides. It had more rides than I've ever seen in one area and was absolutely packed with people. We walked around until we found a place selling chocolate-filled churros and couldn't resist buying some. (Take a funnel cake and cover it in Nutella. That's what they taste like.)
The happiest moment of my life!
Next, we walked around trying to decide what rides we wanted to go on. Here are pictures of some of the rides at the fair:
That last one is called "La Carcel" (The Prison). You stand in a cage (with no restraints, no padding, and nothing to hang onto besides the metal bars) and are thrown around in a circle. Ramya and I wanted to ride at least one ride, and we chose that one thinking it wouldn't be too bad. MISTAKE. Combine my lack of upper body strength with the sunscreen that was all over my hands, and I was hanging on to those bars for dear life. By the time the ride was over, both my arms and my dignity were terribly bruised.
In a state of shock after the ride. I want a shirt that says "I (just barely) survived La Carcel".
Around nine we headed back to the house, ate a quick dinner, and then walked right back-- luckily, our apartment is about four blocks away from the fairground. Feria is different at night: the weather is cooler, there are fewer children, and there's definitely more singing, dancing, and drinking. (Though trust me, those things happen all day too.)
The main entrance is even better at night!
The rides section of the fairground at night. That Ferris Wheel was the fastest-moving Ferris Wheel I've ever seen, by the way. I'm pretty sure none of these rides would last in the U.S. due to lawsuits.
The ground is absolutely LITTERED with things at the end of the day: papers, bottles, cans, wrappers, you name it.
Boxes of bottles of wine that one (count it, one) caseta drank during the week of Feria. There are so many boxes that I couldn't get them all in the photo. Impressive.
At midnight that night, they turned off the lights and Feria was over. To end the party, there was a fireworks show. I wish I could have been there longer, but at least I got to see a full day of the madness.
Conclusion: Feria is amazing!!! It's noisy and crowded and hectic and hot and bright and colorful and 100% fun. In my opinion, it blows Semana Santa out of the water completely. It's really too bad that we don't have something similar the United States... anyone down for helping me start that up when I get back?
**Even though I didn't see her at all during Feria, this blog post is dedicated to Tamara Kerkenmeyer because she bought me ice cream on my birthday. Tamara, you're the best.**
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)