Monday, February 17, 2014

Bachata, Cloistered Nuns and Valentine's Day

          I am becoming disappointed in myself as I realize my appreciation for the architecture and other amazing nuances are becoming part of the "regulars" during the day. Just looking up as I walk through the city to school is a work of art. Philosophical mindset put aside for a more interesting topic: I do not think I have had more fun since I have arrived than I had this past week!
Valentine's Day: La Alhambra with Martha, Kristin, Katherine,
Haile and Grace
     My roommate found a great place to dance bachata and salsa among other Latin dances, and being that we do not have classes on Fridays, we danced into the early hours of Friday morning! It is a small bar (note: bars are social gathering places, not locations to get drunk. Spaniards do not entertain guests in the home, so do not be surprised when you travel to Spain and are taken out rather than invited into the home), that offers salsa classes, and during the "free dancing" period after lessons, the instructor enjoys throwing in  spurts of "salsa line dancing" which I would equate to a few intense moments of Zumba. Just imagine a bunch of 60 year-olds in high-heels shaking their hips with their hands raised as I am inwardly thinking, "Put your hands in the air as if you just don't care."
       


View from the Albaycin
          Valentine's Day: we were required by our program to attend "un espectaculo de titeres," better said a hyper-active theater student attempting to revive creepy wooden marionettes with high-pitched voices. There had to be some redeeming qualities to take up time during the one sunny and warm day, maybe...  Having been a lovely day of 65 degrees, a group of girls and I were going for a wandering through the Albaycin (old district on a hill, winding cobblestone streets), where we decided to crash an ERASMUS gathering (the European version of studying abroad) with hundreds of students from all over Europe. In the process, we encountered a cloistered convent of nuns who sell sweets, and apparently other items as well. Buying sweets (or other things) from "cloistered nuns" entails placing your money on a large version of a Lazy Susan and hoping that what you wanted will come to you via a rotation of the Lazy Susan apparatus because you are not allowed to see the nuns (still having an impossible time imagining their lifestyles--do they even have mirrors?). Apparently I asked for something other than a sweet, and received a special type of rosary, but luckily, my friend Martha got the goods and was willing to share delicious almond cookies.









La Alhambra
         
Up-close of "yeseria"
          That night, Ruby, Sophia, Katherine and I went out to a Chinese restaurant--it was so good to taste spring rolls! We knew we had chosen a reputable location when we represented the only other ethnic groups, and we are currently planning our return. Finally, to top off the fabulous day, Katherine and I had a "spa night" at home and watched "Clueless."
         
          Sunday: la Alhambra! Please Google "La Alhambra," and you will see breath-taking images! It was originally an Islamic city until Ferdinand and Isabel conquered it in 1492 (a big year in history even apart from Christopher Columbus). Gardens everywhere and "yeseria" on every wall. Yeseria is essentially plaster that is formed into delicate detailing, symbols and passages from the Koran--it is all too incredible for any one person to soak in, or any neck to support as your head is constantly tilted back in awe.
           
         
           Thank you for your pictures and sweet notes that you have sent to me via email, Snapchat, Facebook, etc.! I am loving where I am at, but hearing and seeing snippets from home is very precious to me. To leave on a humorous thought: I sent my mom a snapchat of my closet here in Spain (about 2 1/2 feet wide, 7 feet tall, 3 feet deep, with three drawers), which holds all of my clothes for my duration of 5 months--this is an impressive feat for me. My roommates from the States had, in all seriousness, doubted by ability to pack "minimally" for my studies abroad, of which I was quite proud to contradict them. Anyways, my mom replies with a picture of my coat rack at my house in the US, of the same size of my Spanish closet, piled upon with purses. Goodness gracious clothing austerity is painful!

A plaza in the Alhambra





Palace of Carlos V within the Alhambra

View of Albaycin from the Alhambra

In the part of the Alcazaba of the Alhambra

A roof of the Alhambra, at least 7 layers of decor that the
photo does not do justice to the dimensions             

Sunday, February 9, 2014






View from above my cousin's home
Norway: Land of the Blondes

 After 20 years of waiting to visit the land of my ancestry, I finally was able to go to Oslo, Norway! Our program allowed a break from school of 4 days, and some girls found inexpensive tickets, and so we went! I took the train from the tiny airport of Sandefjord-Torp to Oslo, and enjoyed a few lovely days in 4 feet of snow. While there, I stayed for a time with my cousins who live just outside of the city in a “neighborhood” on a hillside with an incredible view of two fjords and the countryside. Apart from being with actually family members, I loved sledding to the gas station. We went on a walk with the dogs to pick up goodies from the convenience store at the bottom of the hill, and Lars (my youngest cousin) proceeded to ride his snow-racer while holding his dog’s leash, all the way to the base—only in Norway.

My cousin's country church
               Never before have I been around so many NATURAL blondes with blue eyes—refreshing to be “part of the pack” and not a flashing target of light colors. People constantly addressed me in Norwegian, and I loved creating the surprise in their eyes when I replied in English! Norwegian culture is extremely similar to that of the States, or at least to that of my family—outdoorsy and hard-working. I loved feeling like I was at home in the U.S., the schedule is the same, and the overall culture is parallel. This “choque” of cultures has been the hardest adaption in Spain, particularly the schedule. Eating schedule dictates the entire day (would not have any other way, maybe a different time though…): breakfast around 8, lunch at 2:30/3 and dinner between 9-9:30. My program’s director said it very well, “No culture is better or worse, simply different,” and this is something that I remind myself of when I become frustrated or idolizing my country/city life in the States.
Lars & Tamara
          
 

           I have yet to come into contact with an unwelcoming Spaniard—this is especially true of the church I have found here. There were two things I asked of God before coming to Spain: a Christian roommate and a church. He blessed me with these two petitions in a beautiful way; the day I arrived, I saw Katherine’s (my roommate) Bible on the nightstand, and the next day I glanced down the street on one side of our apartment building and discovered an evangelical church! I almost cried in thankfulness for His faithfulness and surprises. This tiny church consists of probably 20 people, most of them are related, and it is full of energy and open arms of people who love to kiss cheeks—it is custom of Spain, nothing weird (I still appreciate a good handshake).
          
               My heart will always be American (granted, part of it has been lost to Italy’s Tuscan fields/Norway’s cross-country skiing fields/Spain’s hospitality and history), but my language skills are slowly becoming Spanish—obviously the point of studying in a foreign-language speaking country. It took me two weeks to remember the word for “hutch” in English, I could only remember it as “vitrina” in Spanish. Katherine had to ask me for the English translation of “Renacimiento” (Renaissance), and we both just laughed. What will happen in my Speech & Debate tournaments when I return….
The Olympic ski jump in Oslo
             
          Rosa, my host mother/grandmother, is more wonderful each day. With an unexhausted supply of arroz con leche in the fridge, wonderful morning conversations over breakfast, and her lovely (and quite the personalities!) batch of ladies who come over for tea parties—this place is daily morphing into my home. Actual classes have also begun; the first three weeks we had the “Intensivo,” essentially a grammar/vocabulary class, and now classes with the university have finished their first week. I am enrolled in contemporary art, the political system of the European Union, Spanish culture, business and economics of Spain and Latin America, and an oral/writing class.

Cathedral de Cordoba
           

        This past Friday, our program made a day excursion to Cordoba. It is the city the has a building with probably one of the most unique histories--the Cathedral de Cordoba. Originally a mosque because of the Muslim invasion (pre-1000s), but later, Charles V, the grandson of Ferdinand and Isabella, authorized the construction of a cathedral smack-dab in the middle of the mosque for a political statement. I highly recommend that you look it up online--it's incredible. Additionally, we went to an Arab bath house. O my word, if you ever get the chance, just do it, as Nike has coined. It had a pool of cold water, warm, hot, and a sauna--plus we each got a massage, and incredible pots of tea. Best spa day ever. 
Entrance to Cordoba

 

      If you have made it to the bottom of this uber-long schpeel, congratulations! I will leave you with a funny tidbit: our apartment has a patio (mind you, we are on the top floor), and if you close the door, it locks and is impossible to open from the outside. Given that, I returned from class at lunch time, and Rosa told me that Katherine had not yet returned. Slowly becoming grumpy from hunger, I began to read my messages on Facebook as a distraction. Written 30 minutes prior, I received a note from Katherine, saying: “I definitely just locked myself out on the porch….when you get home, would you please come get me? J” Being the amazing friend that I am, I ran to the porch and unlocked it, but immediately fell to the floor and cried with laughter. Mom: I believe that I got a deduction from “roommate points,” well, “No pasa nada!
--Much love,  Anna


Castle of Ferdinand & Isabella (Cordoba)
           




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