Last Leg

I'm finally back in Rochester and feel that I'm in a good place to finish up this blog for now. My program ended May 24, after which I had a week or so in England, the same amount of time in Vestal, and plenty of time to reflect on this whole adventure.

Almost everyone I have ever known who has come back from study abroad has claimed it to be the best semester or year of his or her life. Which is also the expected answer to the question, "How was studying abroad?", or the even more tricky "Was your semester abroad great?" I've been trying to formulate the best answer to these questions, both for other people, and for myself. I really can't say that this past semester was fantastic or even great, but I can say that I'm glad I went and that I gained a lot from it.

After four and a half months of living in the south of Spain, I can definitely say that it isn't the place for me, and that I probably would have been happier in other study abroad programs. I never felt the same sort of affinity for Granada or my particular program that most of my fellow students felt; there was lots to enjoy and do and see, but I never felt as comfortable as I'd hoped to be. But, of course, my Spanish improved tremendously, I got to see all sorts of new parts of the world, and I learned a few academic things along the way. So I'm not about to tell anyone that it was a waste of time, just that it was another nuanced semester that had its ups and downs.

I ended my trip with a visit to England which is somewhere I would absolutely love to go back to. I spent almost all of my time in London, but hardly saw a fraction of it since there's so much to do (despite traversing most of it by foot for 6 or 7 hours). I thought I'd end with a few pics from the last couple of weeks in Spain and some from England:















Lovely house on a hike up into the Granada hills.














View of the bridge I crossed at least 4 times a day.














The Natural History museum of London.














A beautiful section of London's canal called Little Venice.














A trip out to the country-side (ie. not London) to Colchester.


















Colchester's Roman wall. It may or may not be missing a tiny stone.














Outside the British Museum.

Well, that's it for now, though I may revive this blog if something important happens or travel ensues. I know I picked up a few people along the way, so thanks for reading and commenting (or trying to comment).

I've had two fantastic weekends in a row (sandwiched by two not so inspiring weeks of classes that are dragging on a little too long), so I'd like to share a little bit about them.

Weekend 1: Sevilla/Día de los Cruces

On Friday, several of us headed over to Sevilla, about 3 hours away from Granada, to the Feria de abril, the city's annual festival. We got there around noon, and walked from the bus station to the feria grounds, a little like a giant state fair. There are hundreds of tents set up, with kitchens and tables inside, for eating, dancing, and merrymaking. We apparently got there too early, since there was no one around, and all the tents shut up. Fortunately, the midway was not too empty, and we chose a slightly nauseating and exhilarating carnival ride to get the day started. Sadly, there were no tilt-a-whirls, but it was fun anyway.

We then headed over to a park (Sevilla is filled with lots of great, green parks) and chilled for awhile, eating our picnics and taking a Spanish siesta. We woke up for the main attraction of the day, a bullfight. Now, a lot of people have strong feelings about bullfights. I did not, though I had a vague suspicion that I would find it interesting rather than horrific. Turns out that I thoroughly enjoyed myself, for several reasons. First, bullfights- known as "corridas"- are actually pretty exciting. Corridas involve a lot of different people doing different tasks, and each one at least appears to be in considerable danger as a bull comes charging at them. It was also a bit bewildering, because there are lots of etiquette points that Spaniards who attend bullfights know, and which we didn't. Whistling means that the crowd doesn't like what's going on, trumpets announce when a phase of the bullfight is beginning or ending, etc. So it was exciting simply because we didn't know what to expect. It also made me think a lot about the symbolism behind the corrida, that of man vs. nature. While at first glance it seems that the show (which is an art, not a sport- it's listed with music and dance events, not sports) is about man dominating nature, for me it simply reinforced the fact that people and nature are intertwined, and that yes, we do kill animals. Everyone involved with the corrida shows a high level of respect for the bulls, and people have created this intricate show entirely based on their behavior. And they send the bull to a special butcher to be prepared for consumption, which is a definite plus for me.

Some of my companions did not feel the same way as me, and left after the fourth bull (there are 6 in every corrida). We met up with them afterwards and went back to the fair grounds to look for a bite to eat. The whole place had completely transformed. Every woman and child was dressed in a traditional flamenco outfit, with the men wearing suits. Thousands of people milled around the fantastically-lit grounds, or sat or danced inside tents. Unfortunately, they are all private tents, sponsored by families or companies from Sevilla, so there wasn't anywhere to eat. We realized we didn't have time to eat anyway, and ran back to catch our bus, arriving back exhausted in Granada at 3am.

That Sunday was Día de los Cruces in Granada, which means that different organizations set up elaborately decorated crosses in plazas to compete for prizes. It also means that Granada becomes a different city. The streets, usually completely dead on Sundays, were filled with as many people as there had been in Sevilla, eating outside, strolling to look at the crosses, wearing their flamenco dresses. There were also horses prancing about on the streets. I walked around for awhile, marveling at how different the atmosphere was in the city. It's too bad that we leave just as things are getting started...during the winter, people stay inside, or hurry from one place to another. Just recently have people really been "living in the street," as is said of the south of Spain.


















Sevilla feria before...














...and after.














The bullring in Sevilla.














Día de los Cruces

Weekend 2: Cabo de Gata

This weekend, I went with the rest of my program to a national park called Cabo de Gata, which stretches several kilometers along the coast. Friday started off with a 9 mile hike that was really more like dodging scorpions and tarantulas, rock climbing without gear, and relaxing on beaches. It was a nice change from city life, hiking in the country and doing some strenuous exercise. Some highlights included watching a bunch of goats being herded, giant asparagus (that keeps popping up), these crazy dead trees (see photo below), and swimming in the crystal clear water. We ended in a town called San José, where we were to spend the night.

The hike was followed by a glorious Italian dinner, since San José has more Italians than Spaniards. All 75 of us sat took over the restaurant and were served course after course of pasta and delicious pizza, including several rounds of free sangria...Spanish food is great, but really repetitious, so the chance to eat any other type of food is always welcomed.

The next day dawned grey and cold, ruining our hopes of a day on the beach. But we had several activities planned, so three of us chilled in a cafe before meeting up to go snorkeling. As it was cold, we got to wear wet suits, which are one of the most intense things I've experienced. They took us 10 minutes to put on, and made breathing rather difficult. Nevertheless, they worked, keeping us relatively warm as we hovered above a reef, watching colorful fish, sea slugs, urchins, and waving sea plants called "Poseidons."

And after a relaxing beach side lunch, I headed back to Granada to finish up my last two weeks. If only I didn't have them filled with projects and studying...















This picture doesn't quite do it justice...we hiked up maybe a 60 degree incline here.














View from one of the peaks we climbed.














These are the great, odd looking trees.

Varias Cosas 1-4

Before I forget to write them down, I've got a few things floating around in my mind.

1. On the news today, about halfway in, there was a story titled "El espárragus más grande de España," or, "Spain's biggest asparagus." I thought this was great, especially as the asparagus in question was a good 20+ meters long.

2. People, especially young ones, in Spain are curiously fixated on the US. In my University of Granada course (War and Modern Society), the US is a topic of conversation every single day, generally with tenuous connections to the topic being discussed. Questions from students are framed as: "Why do some countries, like the US, not have child soldiers, and why do others have them?", or discussions of war propaganda turn into conversations about how the US media works, unrelated to its portrayal of the war. It's frustrating that I keep hearing about the US, especially as I generally lack enough confidence/language skills to answer students in class. and correct their misconceptions (though I'm not always sure what those misconceptions are, since it's really, really, really hard to follow Spanish 20 years olds speed talking with a Granada accent). My professor had to almost force the class to start thinking about Spanish media at one point...I keep wondering why they don't show curiosity about their own country, or why they seem to avoid talking about any topic in relation to where they live. Of course, that's just in one modern history class, so my perceptions are a bit skewed.

3. I'm increasingly aware of the danger of returning home after having adopted the Spanish way of asking for things. As in, you demand them. So just a warning before I go back- if I command you to do something without adding a please, or forget to say excuse me if I bump into you, I'm not being rude! I think I've said please maybe 3 times in the past 3 months...it's just not done here. You tell people what you want, obviously in a nice tone of voice. People are just very blunt (sometimes to the point of being rude), but they get to the point and cut out all the flowery language we sometimes use.

4. And most fantastic of all, I saw a turtle on the sidewalk today on my way to school. A little river turtle, at least a half mile and several major roads between the river and my apartment, but there he was, chilling on the sidewalk looking a bit nervous. He had disappeared by the time I came home.

An Update

So. I've done and seen a lot of things since Morocco, and I should probably document them so that some of you (Sabrina...) can live vicariously through me.

Here in Spain, they celebrate Semana Santa, the week leading up to Easter. There are lots of concerts, speeches, processions, people, though I didn't see any of these. IES students need to leave their homestays for the week, since the directors want to give our host families a break, and also don't want to be responsible for us when they take their vacation. So, as the rest of my program went to Italy or Greece, I naturally headed over to Finland, Estonia, and Latvia.

Mike and I previously planned on going to Russia or Turkey during for break, but it turned out that you need a visa so we looked for somewhere you didn't need documentation to get to. After deciding that the Baltics would be a friendly non-visa place to go (When else am I going to get there?), we then discovered it was easier to fly to Helsinki, so we tacked that on as well.

(As a side note, Mike is writing about this too. Obviously it's more interesting on my vastly superior blog, but there's a couple of perspectives on the same trip floating around out there.)

After a pretty painless flight from Malaga to Helsinki, with a stop in London where I met my dear Michael, we discovered that we'd arrived one day too late for good weather. This was a theme to be reiterated on the whole trip, but the frozen bay and the cold really weren't too bad, considering I was in a completely different part of the world, and warm weather would be awaiting me in Granada.

We mostly wandered around Helsinki, going into various impressive churches and monumental buildings. Among the highlights were the national library, the Finnish History museum (complete with an entire exhibit commemorating a war the Finns lost), an underground rock church, and the market. There weren't too many tourists about, though there were some. At one point, I was fairly certain that a vendor we were talking to told us we were stupid for coming to wintery Finland for spring break, but Mike heard "different."

We then took the ferry over to Tallinn, the capital of Estonia. We spent most of our time in the old city, an ancient part of town surrounded by an old stone wall. It was a bit touristy, but still charming, with its wool markets, antique stores, multitude of restaurants, and several old churches, one of which we were almost locked into. I ate one of the best meals of my life here with the BEST beer...following a recommendation, we went to a Medieval-themed restaurant, which may or may not have had anything to do with Tallinn, but which was still fun. Between the honey beer, which I may go back to Estonia for, and the huge plate of wild game sausages, I definitely left satisfied.

We also explored some of the newer part of the city. Estonia was under Soviet control until about 15 years ago, and since then, they've done a whole lot to modernize. There were old, old farm houses with yards sitting next to Soviet-style block buildings, nearby to huge glass high rises. Definitely crazy. We even found a cemetery, which although not as old as it appeared at first glance, was pretty creepy and great.

From there, it was on to Riga, the capital of Latvia, via a 5 hour bus ride through the country. Riga was way different than Tallinn- more of a big city, with dozens of museums, big imposing buildings, shopping, parks. We ended up going to the Occupation Museum (Soviets and Nazis, not jobs), more churches, and an amazing market. There were rooms for fish, bread, dairy, meat, pickles, all in a zeppelin hangar. I'm pretty sure I wasn't hungry this entire trip, because I was always eating something. We also stayed for a night in the "Tiger Hostel," which was decorated up with tiger print. Those Latvians sure loved their animal prints- they were everywhere.

I was a bit sad to say goodbye to the Baltics, but three days or so staying with Mike in London awaited me. London was a great city, with an overstimulating array of restaurants and markets, but I'll be back for a week after my program ends in Granada, so I won't devote too much time to describing it.

Lest you think the excitement was over, I then flew to Madrid to pick up my parents, who came to visit for a week. I'll spare them too much agony, and not say anything embarrassing about them, but I'm pretty sure they had a great time. I introduced them to tapas, schawarma, and my host family. Then we went to Madrid for the weekend, where we saw a big protest against the king held by several hundred communists, and looked at a lot of art within a 12 hour span. I believe they now have the urge to keep traveling having done it once...thanks for coming parents!

And now things have settled down for the time being. I've got less than 5 weeks left, which look to be filled with lots of projects and essays, but also some fun times. Then London, then home on June 3, for all those who will be there. Then Rochester for the summer sometime the following week, where I will (most likely) be living in the lovely-- soon to be renamed-- Ecoestate. (!!!)














Frozen Helsinki.














A Big Building in Helsinki.














Tallinn's Old Town.


















There was some nice weather!














Riga from above.














Who could resist this picture? Riga had ingenious underground walkways (the site of this cartoon), a bit like UR's ingenious tunnels.

Ehhhh

Before you all die of suspense, I do plan on updating this sometime in the very near future, barring meteors, or more Internet problems! On my to-do list is writing about Semana Santa (=spring break) and adventures with my parents. But after this one last essay, a cooking class, celebration of finishing a presentation in my Spanish university class, and perhaps fixing my Internet.

This Title Should Be in Arabic

I'm a couple days behind, but I just got back from a 5-day trip to Morocco, sponsored by IES (my study abroad program)...So as not to go through each day with a fine-toothed comb, here's a few highlights:

•Gibraltar- We started by driving from Granada to Gibraltar so we'd be ready to brave the strait over to Morocco the following day. Turns out this place was well worth a stopover, as Gibraltar is basically an alternate universe. As a bit of background, it's a British possession on the tip of Spain, in sight of Morocco. We played with monkeys, walked through some caves complete with an auditorium inside, talked to our guide in Spanglish (the actual language), climbed the rock of Gibraltar, and ate at a pub that offered fish and chips, sangria, and curry. I've been trying to describe this place for a couple of days, and haven't come up with anything better than a comparison to a dream in which you can't quite explain to others what was wrong with the situation. The mixture of Spaniards, Englishmen, Arabs, Jews, Genoese, and Indians probably had something to do with it. It was also founded by Hercules.

•Camel rides- Tourist thrill, but still fun. Especially after working with a camel all of last summer that I never got to ride.

•Home-stay families- Part of this trip was living with Moroccan families in Rabat, the capital, for 2 days. Because of a mixup, I ended up with 2 different families, which was fine. The first lived in an old house, with an open patio, tall ceilings, and rooms with bed/couches lining the walls. The second family consisted of a young couple, who showed my roommate and I their wedding album and let us try on wedding dresses. However, the highlight was trying to communicate with a 9 year old neighbor who was just learning English. I attempted to say some really impressive things in Arabic ("I like green tea"/"My name is"), which I'm starting to study, so we finally got him to ask us a couple of questions and talk about football.

•Wandering around Rabat's market with some university students. I spent most of my time talking to two sisters, one of which spoke English, and the other who spoke Spanish. It was an interesting language triangle consisting of Arabic, French, English, and Spanish. This was just one of many experiences which impressed upon me the importance that Moroccans place on learning languages. Most people with any education are fluent in Arabic and French, and most also can speak some or all of the following: English, Spanish, Berber, German, Italian.

•Visit to a rural town- We got the chance to eat in a family's home and ask them questions. It was just really nice to get out of the city for a little while, and wander among the donkeys, chickens, and mountains.

•Bargaining- Definitely an activity that everyone should try at least once in their life.

This trip was one reason I chose to study in Granada, and I think it was well worth it. I was really impressed by how well everything was coordinated, and the chances to talk to *gasp* Moroccans. My program is not equally as good at that in Granada; it's been a little difficult to meet Spaniards, as we haven't been given many opportunities through IES, outside of professors and host families.

Some pictures!














Monkeys in Gibraltar.














The view from the hike up the rock of Gibraltar.


















Lest I forget to mention the food. We ate cous-cous, pictured here, three times.














A sampling of what the markets looked like.















Some camels forlornly looking at their fellows, who are being ridden by us.


















The room where I slept in the first house.













Walk in the countryside.














A view of Chefchaouen, our final stop. I only wish it had an "i" in its name.

I Didn't Go to Bruges

So my first adventure out of Spain was to the lovely city of Brussels to visit my dear friend Emily H, who I have mentioned a few times in this blog. But lest you think everything was charming and wonderful, let me recount my journey there.

Granada is a hard city to travel out of. It has a tiny airport, much like that of Binghamton, with 3 gates. Nor is it on the high speed rail line, though it does have a good bus station, with lots of useful buses. My plan was to take a bus from Granada to Málaga, which has a big airport, to catch a plane at 11:45 am. Took the bus at 8, which got me there at 10, a little late. Waited for 20 minutes to catch the bus from the bus station to the airport, got a little worried. Traveled for 40 minutes to get to the airport because of construction, got a lot worried. Walked up to departures and realized I had no idea what to do because I had booked with an obscure airline, panicked. I ran around for 10 minutes before finding the right desk, only to find out at the next desk over that it had closed 10 minutes ago and I couldn't check in to my flight that hadn't even started boarding yet. (Lesson learned.)

So, completely and absolutely calm, I headed over to information, where I was given my airline's number and was told that the next flight to Brussels on a different airline left around 2. I went to that airline's office, where 2 of the people that had previously told me that I couldn't check in told me that I couldn't talk to someone until 12. Believing that this unknown worker was on break until 12, I waited until 12:30, when the same two people shifted over a desk and beckoned me to come talk to them. Long story short, I bought another ticket from them and boarded without a problem. Except that I had locked my phone by turning it off for the flight, and didn't remember the key to open it.

Once I got to Brussels National, I wandered around the airport for a half hour trying to find the buses. Found them, got off at the right stop, and asked for directions from various store owners, since I had Emily's address and no phone. I managed to find her at last, and collapsed exhausted with some bread and cheese.

We met Mike at the train station later (see his post for his fun travel stories that also involve buying another ticket) and proceeded to have a great weekend! Brussels is a really beautiful city that gets the shaft because it's a stopping place for Paris, Bruges, etc. Public transportation is rather confusing, but everything's lovely, a bit quirky (Brussels claim to fame is a statue of a peeing boy), and delicious.

Some highlights:














Brussels is home to the EU, so there are lots of imposing glass buildings.














Touring the Parliament building. Security is really top-notch (nope) at the EU, but Emily's
interning there, so we had an in. This is a big room where they decide important things.


















Here's a couple of Brussel's really cool old buildings. We did lots of walking around, seeing the sights and staying warm.














We also went to Museum Night, where we had access to 14 museums in 5 hours...We did 4. The instrument museum was by far the coolest. You wandered around and listened to music from 1000s of different instruments on a headphone set while looking at said instruments.


















The instrument museum quickly turned into a dance party. This picture is great- it serves for purposes of anonymity and hilarity.

Other highlights included food/drink. I had a healthy array of Belgian waffles, Belgian chocolate, hot chocolate, french fries with mayonnaise, pastries, bread, cheese, and Belgian beer. Not all together. Though I did eat some chocolate for breakfast.

Dear Diary

I've nothing in particular to write about, except that the past week and a half has been pretty great. Let's start with last week...

After informing me that he would be coming for an entire week, Mike arrived last Monday to spend some time in good ol' Granada. After shutting him up in a hostel for 3 days while I went to classes, we then ventured out exploring. I have since realized that Granada is not the best tourist city. There isn't a lot to entertain tourists during the day, besides the Alhambra, a few small museums, and general walking around. Nevertheless, I think we had an enjoyable week that included lots of ice cream and fried food, sitting in plazas, tea with my host family, and the Alhambra by night.


















Hostel street- it was a happening place at night between the hours of 9pm and ___am.


















The hippie neighborhoods of Granada, known as the Albaycin/Sacramonte.


















This is a very special picture...not just because Mike is in it. If anyone (especially one person) can guess why, they'll have the pleasure of knowing they were right, and perhaps some ire.



























A couple shots from the Alhambra. I enjoyed seeing it at night, especially as I will get to go two or three times during the day (for free) with my architecture class. I thought perhaps that because I'm studying Arabic here, I could read some of the calligraphy on the walls. I was very wrong, though I think I saw a few "a"s and maybe an "r".

Anyway, this week is also turning out to be particularly good also. A quick rundown:

• I was informed that I will be living with 3 wonderful and crazy people in a house in the beautiful South Wedge neighborhood of Rochester next year/this summer, complete with a cat, a garden, and some worms (courtesy of Maria's vermiculture). We've yet to find an actual house, but I'm confident in their ability to find one while I'm here.
• I turned in one of two fellowship applications today. I've been applying for two months, and it became a bigger ordeal than I was originally thinking it would be, so I am ridiculously glad that at least one of them is out of my hands.
• I discovered the UR class schedule was up for next fall, and investigated. None of my classes overlap, I won't ever have class until 11, the advanced seminar anthro. class being offered is about perceptions of nature, and I am unofficially taking an independent study course about the resource conflict between biofuel development, agriculture, and ecosystems.
• I'm going to Cordoba on Friday, and Brussels next weekend. (!!!!)
• I had a pretty coherent conversation today with my host mother about what I want to study after college, and my ancestry.

I feel like this entry has been a bit more for myself, to organize my thoughts, but hopefully it gives a glimpse of what's been going on here. Time's starting to speed up...I've been here almost 6 weeks already!

Living with a family is definitely awkward at times, but also really great/enlightening. Here's the situation:

One apartment, six people. One señora (María José), her mother ("la abuela"), two brothers (aged 19 and 24), and my roommate (Viri) and I.

Viri and I were never really properly introduced to the brothers, and ended up living in their apartment for a week without seeing them. By now, we have a routine of ignoring each other for the most part, which while isn't ideal, is working out. However, María José is a very warm person who can talk for hours, and who has made us feel right at home. She told us the other day that she convinced someone she had four kids, rather than two because she always feels like her host students are part of the family. It's rather dangerous to ask her directions or advice before leaving the apartment, because she'll repeat herself at least three times to make sure it sinks in. Not that her suggestions aren't always spot on. She is also a fabulous cook, and most of our conversations involve learning about Spanish cuisine and how to say lots and lots of foods in Spanish.

La abuela is also great. She's definitely a bit senile, and I likes the opportunity of having two young people in the house to relate her rather disjointed stories to. She's pretty sick and recently moved into the apartment after spending some time in the hospital, but she proudly showed us her false teeth the second day we got here.

After la comida (the big lunch at 2:30/3ish), María José, her mother, Viri, and I often sit around for awhile talking. Yesterday we had a particularly good conversation ranging from learning the word for "broody" hens- clueca- to la abuela's experiences as a teenager on a farm during the first years of Franco's rule. I believe we were also given advice about what ice cream flavors to try. It's a really good way to learn about Spain and the people here, and I'm really glad I chose to do a home stay.

Also, on a completely different topic, I believe what Emily H. said about commenting is worth repeating here (I'm giving credit where it's due, not plagiarizing!). I set up the blog so that anyone can comment, and there should be a comment button down at the bottom of all of my posts if you want to leave a message. If you comment anonymously, just add your name so I know who you are!

The Real Reason I Came to Spain

Just thought I would share with you all one of the fabulous things offered by the great country of Spain: churros con chocolate...












I did not take this picture, but I can assure you that the ones I had were identical. Basically, they're fried dough that you dip in incredibly thick chocolate. I believe they rival the waffles tasted by dear Emily in Belgium.

A few more notes about food:

Most of what people eat in Spain comes from the immediate region. Ham (which I originally wrote as "jam") of the best quality is definitely from Spain, much of the produce comes from a microclimate somewhere nearby Granada where they can grow lots of stuff during the winter, oranges are most definitely from here (they're hanging from every tree in the south right now), and little cakes that you buy in stores for breakfast are from the next town over, etc.

People also spend more of their money on enjoying food over here. They/we eat out a whole lot, and generally spend time and money socializing in bars or cafes or restaurants. If we want to hang out together, the only place to do that is a food establishment, which can get a bit expensive. My host mother, who is an especially dedicated cook, also spends a couple hours every day making the big lunch served around 3 and can talk endlessly about food.

They also eat a lot of bread over here. Toast for breakfast, bread with lunch sometimes, sandwiches with giant slices of bread, tapas served almost always with bread. Bread and pastries stare at me from every other shop window.

In conclusion, I'm still thinking about the food culture. Though it seems a bit more in line with my thinking...except maybe for the bread.

Cita Arriba (Or If You Will, a Literal Translation of Update)

Here are some of the pictures I promised, as I've collected quite a few:














We'll start with a shot of the Alhambra...it's exciting to see it, though I'll have to wait a bit to go inside.














Part of the old Moorish wall that ran around the city. Now it's the site of tapas bars and cool lights.














The view on my walk to school.

Also, we spent this last weekend in Sevilla, a couple of hours west of Granada, as a last hurrah before classes started. It's a very different sort of city, filled with royal palaces, one of the possible tombs of Christopher Columbus, numerous plazas, and hoards of Americans.














I felt the need to post this, though it didn't require much skill since it's beautiful on its own. The dome at the Alcazar palace, of which every square inch is decorated with craftwork.














Finally, the cathedral had a treasure room, golden crowns and all.

Other than that, orientation has gone by rather quickly, despite some of its tediousness. I've come to realize that high school/college Spanish has not prepared me very well for this...I'm sure I've ranted about this to most of you, so I'll spare the discussion for now. Tomorrow it's on to real classes and perhaps a bit of work!

As a final note, I live with an 80 somethingish woman, my host grandmother I suppose. She's pretty great...She spouts a lot of history at inappropriate times, such as in the middle of conversation directed elsewhere. I found out the other day, for example, that February has 28 days, while listening to an explanation about food or some such topic.

Bad Anthropology

I feel that I should post something about the hilarious and strange differences between Spaniards and Americans, but I've got nothing. I haven't felt the need to assimilate culturally, beyond the obvious initial awkwardness living with a different family and being trying to speak a different language. I suppose there's the siesta, but it doesn't feel like anything out of the ordinary to me- the stores close, so it's a little more formal than just eating and relaxing at home for a couple hours.

Maybe cultural differences just aren't as dramatic as I was expecting. They eat at different times...OK...so I have to get used to different eating patterns. No fireworks, no streamers or confetti, no orchestrated music. Though finding out the reasons behind eating a huge meal at 2:30 and barely anything after that would be a tougher and more interesting pursuit. Eh, people are just more culturally fluid than they think, if they've a mind to it.

In other news, I've been here a week, orientation continues. I've decided I should pursue the dulcimer after watching, of all things, an American folk concert in sight of the Alhambra.

Someday I'll have pictures, but it's been raining every day (a rare occurrence for Granada) and I've only taken a few photos.

Obama's President: Naturally I Flee to Spain

So I've reached a point where I can organize my thoughts enough to write a coherent post... during my first siesta, and it's basically a formalized version of what I do everyday: relax, talk, maybe take a short nap in the middle of the day.

There's really nothing to report as far as travel goes. Didn't get to see Mike at Heathrow, but otherwise everything went smoothly. Though as a warning to anyone travelling through a London airport- they don't post your gate until 15-30 minutes before you board. Almost, almost I wanted to stay in England, but I knew Spain was waiting, and my plane to Málaga was about half full with IES students, so we all huddled together to await our fates.















For those interested, here's Granada, way in the south. Home of the Alhambra, called the most "sensual" building in Spain in several of my guide books. Take that how you will.

When we got to Málaga, it was a mad rush to recreate freshman orientation. There are 81 people and I remember about 20 names and 20 faces, but the two don't necessarily go together. Yesterday, after an uneventful night at the hotel, we drove to Granada and met our host families. I'm living in an apartment with a women, her two 20ish year old sons, and her mother, along with another student who is fluent in Spanish since she grew up speaking it. So, lots of Spanish all the time, but that's what I came here for, and I'll get used to it quickly enough.

María José is an incredibly nice woman, who loves to cook. She immediately told my roommate and I that we were to make the apartment and her family our own. And she knows all the cheap places to shop, and how to get around, and is willing to talk to us in detail about this for hours. She also, along with everyone in the area, thinks that 40-50 degree weather is terrible, and unbearably cold. Granted, there isn't much heat in the apartments here, so it feels cold most of the time, but I'm appreciating the heat wave compared with home.

Tonight I get to explore the area a little more, since we've really only been doing orientation stuff. Perhaps I'll use all the money I'm saving on buying dinner for 2 or 3 euros (free tapas with a drink!) and spend it on making myself look less American.

The Eye of the Storm

I've had requests to set up a blog, so away we go.

While its main purpose is to document my semester in Spain, I just got back from a couple weeks in Chile with my Chamber Orchestra. A few photos/notes are in store:

The view from my balcony in Valparaiso. It's a hilly coastal town in the middle of Chile, which is known as the New Years Eve capital of South America. And we just happened to be there on New Years Eve. The people in every one of the houses in this picture were on the streets partying till the not-so-wee hours of the morning (8 am).

We, uh, hiked the Andes. This was the view from the lagoon we stopped at. I think the picture speaks for itself...















A shot of some of the UR/Santiago youth orchestra members! URCO combined with them to rehearse/play a concert. Despite the language barrier, we all became friends. They were so enthusiastic, especially when playing their instruments: our version of Westside Story involved confetti and dancing on stage. And we had an audience. Heh, a bit different than playing in Strong Auditorium at Rochester.



A bit seasonally challenged at the moment, from Christmas decoration in an 85 degree summer to half a foot of snow. Now it's on to packing and getting ready to go to Spain on the 19th. Everything's a bit surreal...