Almuñeca (Sept. 19-20)

So I have been in Spain for over a month now, but in many ways I feel like I still haven't gotten away from America. I'm sure the Internet has something to do with that, but I love being able to stay connected to everything and everyone that has been such a big part of my life for so long (Plus, life without Internet is like the even more modern day equivalent of Cast Away, i.e. you can be in the most beautiful, modern, civilized, populous part of the world, but without Internet, without that connection to your home, you still feel as isolated and alone as ever.)  Rather, I think that this feeling of still being in America has more to do with always being around Americans. I was under the impression that from the moment we arrived here in Spain we would be with Spaniards. Granted, we see them all around us, but rare is the occasion in which we actually socialize with them (hopefully part of this will change when they start school on the 28th). Anyways, in an attempt to get even more away, I went to a little beach town called Almuñeca with a Spaniard I had met on my first night in Sevilla and two of his friends. They are crazy. Loco. I don't think I've ever been so confused or turned around in my entire life, but I loved it! Listening to them talk to each other was an experience in itself. I closed my eyes at one point during their conversation and literally thought that I was on another planet amongst 300 or so shouting Martians. I've always wanted thought it would be cool to be abducted by aliens! I'm sure it can't be much different than that experience lol. One of the amigos of my amigo Eduardo (or Principe Naranja as his friends call him because he is always wearing orange) owns a beautiful, very spanish apartment over looking the beach. (I was relieved upon pulling into the parking lot because I thought we would be sleeping in the car or something.... I literally understood nothing about what was going on lol).

We arrived at the apartment at 1:00 am (really 9:00 pm by their standards as I would soon find out) and sat out on the patio for a couple of hours. We went to bed around 3 am upon which the Spaniards all commented on how early it was, especially for a Friday night, but, obviously embarrassed with themselves, they went to sleep. (I, on the other hand, was ecstatic - almost to the point where I couldn't fall asleep - for this was the moment that I had been waiting for since 11 that night lol). The next day we got up at around 9:30 and went down to the beach. The water was cold but we rented a paddle boat and made our way into the open seas. The 3 spaniards and the american. Bound together by what would deem to be about an hour of solid pedaling and sufficient burning in the legs before we would make it back to shore.

That evening would prove to be another late one (or should I say early) as we got to bed around 6 am. The night consisted of tapa bar after tapa bar after tapa bar leading to, when it was all said and done, about 40 euros worth of food and drinks. I, unfortunately, had no say in what I wanted as my new amigos consistently brought new plates to me begging me try the food and then laughing as they saw my often not-to-pleasant reactions.


When it was all said and done the weekend passed by in the blink of an eye, or the sentence of a Spaniard, and I had heard more spanish than ever before in all my years of life combined - which is precisely what I came to Spain for. They want to do it again next weekend, but I need at least another month of recuperation and, apparently, more adjustment to the Spanish lifestyle. I need to catch up on sleep now! And how about them Broncos! All the way baby!

Mi casa, mi cuarto, mi habitación

(El Baño... I still haven't figured out what the toilet type structure between the sink and the actual toilet is used for. One of the many mysteries of this foreign country)

(my room, I know I should have cleaned it a little bit more before I took these pictures, but for some reason I have the hardest time cleaning this room so I decided to show it in its natural state)

(The House itself: (Alonso Cano, Casa 12)

La Universidad: UPO

(First impression of my new University.... ¿¡Dónde está el césped?!)

School..... Escuela.... It is here. Ha empezado. The language might be different, but those two words, school and escuela, they don't differ in any other way. For some people it is those overwhelming thoughts of the long hours of work that lie ahead, the end of the fun, worry free days of summer that they have grown so accustomed to. For me, it is the dreaded opening week. See, I seem to have this uncanny nack for always finding myself with a class schedule that represents as stark a contrast as you will find to those classes that I thought I had signed up for. Something as different as, say, Santa Clara University to my new Pablo De Olavide University (which we will get to later). This makes those first 4 days of school a stress filled, lets take as many classes as I can because the world is going to end (and obviously thats what I would want to do if the world were going to end) week. And this one proved no different. The first three days of school I sat in on about every class offered and some more than once. I was consistently running from one building to another and I don't think I've ever walked into so many doors in such a short period of time in my entire life (as I always seemed to be looking down at a map of the school when a building suddenly sprung up before me). Aaaanyways, I'm good now. I just called my university to make sure all my classes fulfill requirements there and, gracias a dios, they do. I also had my school send me an email saying that same thing just in case they try to hold onto me for another quarter when I return by saying that these classes actually don't count - which, I've heard, has happened before.

I am enrolled in 5 classes at Pablo de Olavide Universidad: Spanish (por supuesto), The European Union, International Marketing, History/Religion of Spain and The European Economy. It seems like a pretty solid course load and the final two classes are taught in Spanish so either I will learn a lot more Spanish as well as history/economy, or nothing at all. When we first saw the campus I'm pretty sure that we all had the same thought: "we are going to jail... or at least to a mental institute... I knew that this whole Spain thing was too good to be true".

(Left: The "watchtower"

Right: The hallways - reminds me of those California highschools I                                               used to see in the movies/disney channel)

It was made even funnier that on the first day of class two of my teachers made a point of reassuring us that we are not in jail, we did not do anything wrong in coming to Spain, and that we will be allowed to go home at the end of everyday. The school consists of an outdoor hallway running for the length of about 3 football fields with buildings springing off to the sides every now and then. The buildings are all yellow and orange with bars on the windows, but the classrooms themselves are just like any classroom you would see at a university back in the states. The thing that I miss most about Santa Clara as compared to this school is the grass. In Santa Clara everything feels so inviting. The freshly cut grass calls your name - whether it is for sports, a nap or just some good, clear thinking. The flowers create an aura of warmth and acceptance and the beautiful architecture makes you want to pull out your camera everywhere you go. Not to say that you don't feel a desire to take some pictures at my new university, its just for the complete opposite reasons; like, hey, look where I go to school, its worse than yours haha not really though; its just going to take some getting used to but I know that I'll love it, im not worried. (I don't have pictures right now, but I'm planning on putting some up in the next couple of days so be sure to check back!)

(This is definitely the kind of picture that you would find in a brochure... a solid use of the only green grass found on campus... though it does look more along the lines of an all-girls boarding school with those pink buildings..)

Over the weekend about 30 of us went to the beach town Huelva. There isn't a whole lot to report from there other than we found a football and got in a good three hours of playing time. Man did I ever need that. Ok time for some tarea! I hope that the United States is still united and very states-like. I read that Obama's latest health care speech was his best since president but I wasn't able to see it. Also everybody from Spain enjoys bragging about how there economy is worse than ours.

Madrid

(One of the first things we saw in Madrid... though we never figured out what the name/purpose of that building...)

¡Caramba! It is absolutely amazing to me that I have already been in Spain for 3 weeks. I feel like I should be fluent in Spanish! I'm not, but the past two weeks sure have bumped me up a couple of notches. On the Friday following our final exam I took a train to Madrid to meet up with my girlfriend and one of her friends. It wasn't until I was on the train (I guess because I had been so focused on the final) that I realized three things: 1) LoLo doesn't have a cellphone 2) I don't know the name of her hotel - I had somehow misplaced that information in route to the train - and 3) Madrid is the biggest city in Spain. These thoughts, combined with the anxiousness that I was already feeling, obviously caused me a bit of worry; but "Marley and Me" was playing on the tv in spanish and that substantially distracted me for a couple of hours. Just as the train was nearing its approach I received the phone call that I had been resting all of my hopes upon - LoLo was able to use the hotel phone and from there we took advantage of Madrid's highly effective metro system to meet up with each other relatively painlessly. We walked around the city a bit - me the experienced foreigner as they were still overcome by the jet lag a day and a half of traveling can give (not to mention the 8 hour time difference).

The next day we went to the Palacio Real - the official residence of the royal family of Spain. It really instils a new idea of what "big house" means. With 3000 rooms, a dining table for 180 people and an armory the size of a football field, the massive structure structure makes those so called mansions in Aspen look like little ant hills.

(Above: In front of the Palacio Real. The Statue is a representation of King Felipe IV)

We toured the Palacio with a handy little microphone type thing as our guide - you press the numbers corresponding to the room you are in and then the microphone gives you the history of that particular room. Unfortunately, I had misread the order of the numbers and therefore was intently  listening to the descriptions of the room completely  opposite of where I was. Everything looked too similar for me to distinguish via the audio description however, and, acting as the tour guide, I relayed all of the information to LoLo and Kandace under the impression that it was factual. We would oo and ahh and it wasn't until one of them took over audio duties that we found out that we should go ahead and forget everything we had just "learned". Needless to say, I was no longer allowed to be the official tour guide and we had to go back to number 1 on the map. (Towards the end of the tour, just to put the icing on the cake regarding my relationship with that microphone, I was swinging it around on the cord when it went flying off, hit the ground and ceased functioning all together).

(Plaza de Mayor - one of the most famous plazas in Madrid, famous for its tapa bars and street performers)



That evening we waited in a line with the hope of receiving discount tickets to a ballet that night. Maybe the fact that we were the last ones in the line, the fact that we were the only Americans or the fact that it seemed as though we were being laughed at for an abnormally long amount of time should have warned us, but by the time we got up to the front they were fresh out of tickets. So much for the hour and a half wait I guess...

(Left: A picture of some of the food served at tapa bars in Spain, though this was the nicest one I have been too.  Upon pushing and shoving your way to the bar to order they heat up the food and then bring it to you.)

The following morning, Sunday, we went to the Prado - one of the three biggest art museums in the world. There we saw drawings by Vazquez (the most famous Spanish artist - born in Sevilla, my new hometown - thats my claim to fame) Goya and about 400 other artists. It was entertaining for about 15 minutes, but I did my best to feign interest for the remaining hour and a half lol. Eventually they all start to look the same to me. Its not that I'm not interested in the paintings or the history behind them, its just that I know absolutely nothing about them. If anybody has any recommendations on books I should read regarding the incredibly broad topic of "History" (particularly that of the Romans, Greeks or Christianity) I would love to hear some suggestions.

(Somewhat random picture of a church outside of the Prado... seems as though scooters are just catching on in Spain... they've been out of style for about 10 years now in the U.S.)

I don't know how I'm supposed to end a blog. If it were an email I would say "I hope Colorado isn't too cold yet!", or, "I look forward to reading any responses!", or something along those lines, but I feel like blogs don't require little sign off messages like that. Rather, I think that they just kind of end. Like I talk for a while, write everything that is on my mind, and then just kind of dwindle off. "Until next time." Maybe thats a good one. I really don't know. If anyone has any words of advice regarding my new predicament that would be greatly appreciated. Also if anybody knows how I can watch American football in Spain I will grant them with the grandest of all honors - dedicating this blog to them..... Adios! (I had to say it haha)

Update Numero Dos

Wow, if last week was spent getting to now the basics of the city, this one was all about immersing ourselves in the language and in the culture. When we weren’t at our home speaking with our families, we were in class for 3-4 hours a day studying\learning\and taking tests. We were also thrown into the city a couple of times on so called scavenger hunts where the aim was to find Sevilla students, talk to them about their school, and try to understand at least a word or two here and there to write our reports off of. Learning Spanish where the language is actually spoken by everybody around you is completely different from Spanish in the United States: you go to class for a couple of hours every week, but the second you leave you don’t think about the new grammar or vocabulary until you have the class again or until a test somehow creeps up on you that you requires a bit of studying. Here, however, you can take what you learned in class and immediately put it into action. At home, in the streets, wherever. It gives a new incentive to concentrate and really try to learn the material. More than just getting a good grade, you want to improve for the sake of your life outside of the classroom. Sometimes, when I’m walking through the city by myself, I do my best to look like a native Sevillan. The other day I was sitting down eating a sandwich, or a bocadillo, and a couple of tourists asked me in English where they were. I looked at them in confusion, replied that I only speak Spanish and they were then forced to use body language to ask the question. I explained to them in Spanish where they were, but when they asked me how to get to a point on the complete opposite side of the city I was forced to give up my cover and revert to English. The look on their faces was pretty funny when i suddenly became fluent in English, but I think I had them going for a couple minutes!

Adapting to the Spanish lifestyle has been quite the adjustment. At home I was an early bird - one who ate ALOT of worms for breakfast - active all day long, small lunch, and ready to go to bed by 11 at the latest. The best way to describe the Spanish and their daily routines is to take my old routine and then do the exact opposite. If I didn’t have class in the morning, like today, things really wouldn’t ever get going until around 12; they have incredibly small breakfasts (sometimes just a glass of milk and tiny muffin), absolutely massive lunches, siesta time after lunch (which can last anywhere from 2-4 hours; when i wander the streets in this time I get the feeling that I am the only person left in the world, which is pretty weird to have in such a big city), dinner at 10 or 11 and bed at, on most nights, 1 or 2. When we go out at night I’ve discovered that the bestroutine for me is go to bed at the same time i would at home, sleep for 4 hours, then wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning and get my evening started.

Earlier this week we went on a little field trip to the Catedral. Its a gothic cathedral (the 3rd largest of its kind, when it was first constructed it was the first largest) built upon Muslim foundations – the Muslims had a presence there until they were forced out of the country in 1248). This gives it a very unique look in which the courtyard and the outside design are Muslim, but the cathedral itself is Christian. The king who had it built loved the original Muslim construction so much that he ordered the church to be built upon and within the original Muslim design as opposed to tearing the whole thing down and starting over. Walking around the church from the outside takes a good 10-15 minutes to get back to your starting point. The inside is absolutely massive, the walls just shoot skyward – very fitting as it resembles the streets of Sevilla. 

(Looking down on the Catedral from the Giralda)

When it was first built it was the tallest standing building in the world. It also claims to be the burial place of Christopher Columbus, though there is a fair amount of controversy regarding this claim - they won’t know for sure until 2041 when a DNA test with Christopher’s brother (who is also buried at the catedral) and the “other” Christopher Columbus (who, I believe, is in the Dominican Republic) is completed. My favorite part of the church is the 36 story tower (Giralda) from which you can see all of Sevilla.

(Man, did those pools ever look enticing)

Anyways if you ever get tired of American politics and talk about Heath Care then i hate to inform you that espana is not the place to come to escape it. They love talking about it, or at least my family/their friends, and about all of the things that we do wrong and they do better.

Update Numero Uno

I am writing this email out of my room at my home stay-in Sevilla. We have Internet, but unfortunately an Ethernet needs to be connected to a router and we only have one of those, so the whole family takes turns using it. Right now it is siesta time, so with everyone else asleep I decided to take my turn. The house I’m in is actually pretty nice. It has two stories and a roof that we can sit on as well. I’m located on the second story across from my host brother and – the padres live below us. Its hard to believe that I’ve already been here for 6 days! At times it like I just got here, but then at other times it feels as though I’ve been here for 4 months already. Sevilla is a beautiful city full of narrow, winding streets where cars somehow manage to get up to 60 km/hr and people are constantly avoiding collisions with vendors, motorcylcists and other walkers. It is definitely no place to walk around reading a book (or map for that matter) as you could actually be risking your life and, not to mention, the views and architecture are too unique to pass up. The most famous of the buildings in Sevilla is the Gothic Cathedral. It is absolutely massive and is located very near to the center of the city. I haven’t had a chance to go in it yet, but we are taking a field trip there tomorrow. Over the weekend our group took a little trip to Italica – an ancient Roman city overlooking Sevilla. The amphitheater is still standing and gives one a very good idea of how it must have been to be a spectator at one of the events. There is a large hole in the middle that the Romans would fill with water and then stage a sea battle – only with much smaller ships. When this was not in use they would cover it with wood and sand – much like hockey rinks can change into basketball courts in a matter of hours. Many of the homes retain their walls and tiles and their bathing places look like they could be used today if only there were water in them – and we were all wishing that there was with the average temperature here above 100 degrees.

Today we started something known as the “Intensive Language Program”. It consists o

f two weeks of 3-4 hour classes in which we are just drilled with Spanish grammer/vocabulary/norms and customs. I was placed in the

Advanced section so most of what I will be learning should be new to me. Combine this with the fact that my family speaks absolutely no English and learning Spanis

h should become a bit easier – in part because it is now a necessity, it counts for more than just a grade in a class. I definitely feel as though I have improved since I have arrived here. Many of the words and phrases you just pick up on without even trying because they are used so regularly. I don’t understand a lot of what my family talks about (on top of speaking incredibly fast they have a very strong Spanish accent), but I do my best to make a comment every now andthen… To get into downtown Sevilla and the CIEE study center all I have to do is walk a couple of blocks to a brand new metro, stay on that for 5 or so minutes and then walk another 10 minutes into the center of the city. One of my favorite parts of this new experience is exploring and becoming familiar with the city. At first it seems impossible, but today I went in without a map for the first time and although it added about 20 minutes to my journey I eventually found my destination. It’s definitely not the worst of cities to get lost in because you want to see as much as possible anyways.

Last night before I went to sleep my host dad came in and showed me how to turn the air conditioner down because the night before I apparently had it up a little bit loud. I understood about half of what he was showing me/doing, but when I went to bed I did something wrong because on a number of occasions throughout the night I woke up perspiring, soaking and with my pillow drenched in sweat. In the morning my dad came in and looked at the unit and bursted out laughing. I looked at him in confusion because he kept repeating “Sauna, sauna, sauna!” and then it dawned on me that instead of turning on the air conditioning last night I had turned on the heater – adding to the 90 degrees temperature! I don’t know how I survive

d, much less how I was able to get any sleep, but one thing I have learned so far is that, with a language barrier like this, you have to experience a lot of these little mishaps and such for yourself before you actually understand what to do.

P.S.One of the smaller differences that I have noticed over here is that none of the bathrooms (even the public, single ones) have locks or paper towels - the second of whi

ch is probably much better for the environment...

The start of the blog....

Okay so I finally got around to creating this thing and I'm thinking that it was probably a good use of my time. Whenever I have anything that I feel needs to be said all I have to do is get on here, type a couple of words and just like that, boom! The thing that I felt had to be said is out in the open for all to see! I will also be able to update much more frequently than the weekly email I have been sending out. The two bottom posts are the first two emails I sent to everybody (with a couple of pictures) and every new post will appear at the top of the page. Ok I hope that you all enjoy it!