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| Best. Thing. Ever. |
Pre-Trip Thoughts
(written Sunday 8/25)
In the past, the fall study abroad programs have gone to
Italy, Greece, and Istanbul. This year,
our professor decided that we would benefit from a more thorough understanding
of Spain itself, since we’re trying to learn the language. So Greece was ousted, much to my dismay, but
I know this eight day trip will be incredible.
AU students who are studying here are in one of three
programs: Madrid in the Mediterranean (my program- classes in English, mostly
IR majors), ICADE (English & Spanish classes, business/finance/econ
majors), or Comillas (direct enrollment—any major, but you’re treated like a
Spanish student, so you need to speak Spanish well). Ryan, my latest and greatest friend, is at
Comillas; Kevin is at ICADE. Only the
Mediterranean program students are traveling together, because everyone else is
attending a Spanish university that, like American universities, doesn’t
appreciate you missing a week of class.
So I’m left will plenty of perfectly nice students that I don’t know
quite as well, the majority of which have a propensity to speak English.
And I don’t hold that against them, because it’s mentally
taxing to speak Spanish, but I want to practice as much as possible. Even writing in English and talking with
people from home feels like “cheating,” because I want to immerse myself as
much as possible. That’s why I’m glad my
host mom can’t speak English. When I
come back, I’m going to find a Spanish student who’s learning English to get
weekly lunches with and talk in both languages.
AU’s “campus” (it’s one building) shares space with a language learning
center, so I’m pretty sure my professors can hook me up with someone pretty
easily.
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| Elena and my host mom Pilar (: |
Saturday, as I was pushing “submit” on my blog post, my
host mom’s son and his wife came over for ‘lunch,’ which in Spanish time means
arrive at 1:45 and stay until almost 7.
They were super nice. Pablo, her
son, studied in the U.S. when he was 14, in a tiny Pennsylvania town. He and Elena, his wife, are both
veterinarians, and brought a rolling suitcase with an ultrasound machine to
look at the gallbladder of Bola. It was
kind of hilarious to see him whip out a high-tech machine from nowhere. Elena is pregnant with my host mom’s second
grandchild, a boy. Unfortunately, he
didn’t use the ultrasound machine on her.
There was so much food.
I started eating fish again this summer, in preparation for coming here,
and I’m not regretting the decision (even if I do feel a little guilty). The first course was huge platters of
octopus, clams, shrimp, and bread. Next,
a giant frying pan of paella—a classic Spanish dish with rice with lots of
different sea food. Then she wanted us
to eat a salad, but we were way too full.
And of course, there were two different types of dessert. The Spanish show their love through cooking,
and Pilar must love Pablo and Elena a lot.
We will be eating the leftovers all week.
After eating an exorbitant amount of food, we talked for
several hours. I mostly listened, or
tried to listen, as they all talked over each other about a variety of
things. At one point, Pilar and Pablo
were arguing about whether or not people should face their fears. I think.
What I could understand was interesting, and it was good for me to
practice understanding Spanish without being in the spotlight the whole
time. Pilar also told a joke about a man
who had three girlfriends and couldn’t decide which to marry. It took her about five minutes to read, and
at the end (after a lot of deliberation) the guy chose the girl with the
biggest boobs. Sexist humor spans all
languages! My host mom is kind of a badass,
though. That must be why we get along so
well.
Afterward, Ryan dragged me out to Chueca, the gay
district. We met at 10, which is earlier
than most natives go out here, and went to two bars and (embarrassingly) a
McDonalds. The second bar in particular
was awesome—the walls featured original murals and local artwork.
Today’s Update
(Morning of Sunday 9/1)
This trip has been absolutely incredible. We’ve gotten to the most relaxing stage of
our trip—Mallorca, which is an island off the eastern coast of Spain. Today, we’re apparently jumping off some
cliffs into the Mediterranean. Which
gives me shots of adrenaline just thinking about it. I think the only way I’ll get myself to do it
is by imagining Derek looking at me with disdain. So thank you for that, Derek.
The trip started with a bullet train to Tarragona. When I looked at the monitor with the speed,
we were going 185 MPH. The Spanish
countryside is beautiful: rolling hills beneath small farms and vineyards,
stereotypical small-town Mediterranean hamlets with white-washed buildings and
red tile roofs. Tarragona is a coastal
town whose modern history began with the Romans, who built a defensive city (“Tarraco”)
during the Punic Wars. We toured some of
the old Roman buildings, like the amphitheater (gladiators!), circus (chariot
races!) and pretorium (governors, oh my!).
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| Outside the Roman amphitheater. |
My roommates screamed excitedly when they saw the spectacular
view of the Mediterranean from our hotel room.
That first night was deeply content, sitting outside on the balcony with
four new friends, feet propped up against the railing as a light marine breeze eased
my metaphorical Madrid fever. Matt,
Becka, Sara, Lauren and I became fast friends on this trip. We’ve become somewhat of a fivesome with a
propensity for English (except Matt and I), sleepovers, and taking "urban youth" pictures in which we all look modelesque-ly apathetic to our incredible surroundings. They’re all really nice and seem to like my
odd sense of humor.
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| At the Vilafranca festival. |
After Tarragona came Vilafranca, where we witnessed an
incredible local festival honoring the town’s saint, San Felix. There’s no way to summarize the intensity of
that day—the flurry of explosions, fire, and loud noises gave it the feeling of
a war zone, albeit a very jubilant one.
It was incredible. It was a scene
Kvothe might have witnessed, minus the video cameras. Devils lit fireworks, giant royals led a
procession of oversized peasants, dancers spun gracefully, and rival towns
strived to build the tallest human castle.
It was an unforgettable experience.
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| Artsy shot of a Vilafranca power line. |
We left Vilafranca in the early afternoon for Montserrat—an
old cathedral in the mountains, which became a shrine after a Virgin Mary was
dug up (since Spain was under Moorish control for a long time, it wasn’t
uncommon to bury statues to protect them).
Interestingly, she’s black, and we could argue about why, but I’m not
too concerned about it. I was much more
interested in the natural surroundings, where creative angels supposedly carved
the unique rock formations. We took a
railcar up into the mountains and hiked down, to incredible views. Montserrat is pretty badass, friends, for the
religious and secular alike.
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| Lauren & I on the harbor tour. |
Then on to Barcelona, it was a very big day. Becka, Sara and I got settled in our
apartment before a late-for-Americans-early-for-Spaniards dinner. Our two days in Barcelona were spent focusing
on Picasso and Gaudi, besides visiting the old Gothic cathedral, the Ramblas
(big marketplace and pickpocket capital of the world, or something), and taking
a harbor tour. I love Gaudi, even though
I can’t claim to know anything about architecture. I feel confident saying that his Sagrada
Familia is my favorite church in the world, and I’ll let you know if I’m proven
wrong.
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| Sagrada Familia! |
And now is today.
The rest of the trip will be spent in Mallorca, before we return to
Madrid on Tuesday evening, unless we all die jumping off these cliffs.
Can’t wait to see what you guys have been up to.
Rachael
Some more photos that I couldn't fit above:
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| View out my hotel window as I write this. |
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| These poor souls couldn't stop laughing at a joke I made about veal. It wasn't that funny, we were just all tired. Sean (L) looked like she was at a funeral by the end of dinner, and Matt (R) totally lost his shit. It was a proud moment. |
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| Caricatures. Some of them represented local badasses. |
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| Giants |
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| Overlooking Montserrat. |
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| Stained glass in the Sagrada Familia. |
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