I can’t believe my time in Spain is over. During the last two weeks we tried especially hard to make the most of our remaining time, while also juggling final exams/papers. We accidentally got into an invitation-only transvestite party at a bar, enjoyed a farewell dinner with all of our professors, and, on the last night, returned to the pizza place we found during week 1 as a final tribute to an amazing trimester in Spain.
My boyfriend Sam arrived on Saturday. While the license issue was a bit of a gray area, my host father Alejandro was nice enough to drive me to the airport to pick him up. The language barrier was a bit tough, but Sam’s 20 weeks of Spanish training proved to be at least somewhat helpful. For lunch, they were sure to buy nice beer for Sam (we have never been offered beer) and they whipped out the nice china. We had carne con tomate (my favorite) with potatoes and salad and nice bread. For dessert, strawberries and whipped cream. Alejandro made it quite clear that he was happy to have another man in the house. Sam got along really well with Julia and the Chihuahua/rate Neco.
It was a very sad goodbye. I wrote a note and Rachel and I decided to leave them flowers. We wanted to give them something more, but we felt it would be more personal to get them something from our country. The waterworks were going, thankfully before snapping a few pictures with the family. It was very hard to leave, and they made me promise that I come back for my honeymoon and see them.
Sam and I made our way to a Hotel Alminar which was a great little hotel. We went out for tapas and my favorite place and got some gelato. Sam was exhausted after 19 hours total of travel, so we called it an early night. The next day we walked around the city, by the river and through Parque Maria Luisa, which is the most beautiful park in Seville. We got some more tapas and split a pizza from my favorite pizza place. Sam wanted to check out a discoteca, but unfortunately not much was poppin on Sunday night.
We got up early Monday morning for our flight to Barcelona. We took a cab to our hostel which was then after lovingly referred to as the “craphole.” It really wasn’t that bad, and everything was pretty clean, but I’m probably just trying to justify my own decision to book it. We went to “Los Caracoles” for dinner, which was a great restaurant recommended my fellow Seville-traveler, Nicky. As she promised the food was “unreal” and complete with a personal mariachi band. Sam wanted to go out late that night just to “minimize the time spent in that dungeon.” But the discoteca that was highly recommended to us by fellow union students was closed. So we went back to the “dungeon.”
We spent the next three nights in a four star hotel in Rome, which was a stark contrast from “Barcelona 4 Fun” hostel. Upon claiming our baggage, we went out to the curb to pick up a cab. A man with a clipboard who claimed to be the supervisor said he could get us a cab for a great price: 65 euros. He showed us the cab driver – a man in a leather jacket with no car nearby – and promised we wouldn’t find a better deal. When I whispered “I’m not sure about this” to Sam, he said “What do you think I am? A gypsy?” When I approached a cab driver who was actually in a marked taxi to give me a rate for downtown Rome, he claimed the flat rate was 40 Euros. Meanwhile the “non-gypsies” jogged briskly in the other direction.
We visited the coliseum, the pantheon, the Vatican and a host of other impressive works of architecture. Sam’s housemate challenged us to buy gelato at every third gelateria we passed, but in fear I wouldn’t even fit into my elastic waist pants on the flight home, we lessened the challenge to approximately every fifth gelateria. Italy was beautiful, and probably my favorite place so far.
Our last night was spent in Paris. It was a long travel day, but we made the most of our short time there by visiting the Louvre and going to café angelina – the café Rachel and I visited in our pre-Seville travels. After a cup of hot chocolate as thick as pudding, and a meringue topped with strands of chestnut paste that made me feel like I was eating a Sesame street character, we strolled around Paris a bit, went out for a traditional steak frite dinner and headed back.
Now I’m in the airport, and it is the first time I have seen rain all week. Charles de Gaulle loves searching me, and I have unloaded my bag a total of 5 times now. And now I suppose it’s time to go back to the real world, after 12 weeks I wouldn’t have spent any other way.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Crunch time
Post-Madrid time has been officially labeled “crunch time” as it marks the fact that we only have 2 weeks left. We have been trying to take full advantage of Sevilla. We went tapas hopping earlier this week. Spinach with garbanzos and a fried egg, fried shrimp, patatas bravas, tortilla española, goat cheese with raspberries and chicken wings were all tapas of choice. One of the places we went to has a very friendly owner who is so patient with us, because we are always adding items to out order and staying for hours. There are so many great things on the menu, and we have gone back several times since. They also have great dulce de leche, caramel apple, and chocolate crepes. Mmm!
Also, this week a favorite professor of ours from Union came to visit us. She is looking into alternative schools for the term abroad program and a few of us went out with her to “Horno” – a great Seville bakery. They serve a great palmero –which is a Spanish psaltery shaped like a soft pretzel and covered in chocolate or a sugary egg-cream frosting. Delicious!
This week also marks the end of our friendship with the heater. Even though the temperature has yet to rise, it is officially no longer “estufa” season according to our host mom. I am dreading the day I come home from class and it is no longer next to my bed to warm my feet. I will have to start resorting to placing my feet on my computer charger, which gets pretty warm after a long face-book or essay-writing session. We were also told that we should stop placing orange peels in the trash due to the mold the housekeeper has detected near the shower walls. The theory here is that the orange peels are getting moldy, and that the fungus is spreading to the shower walls. I can’t say I’m a subscriber to this theory – I may have blamed humidity/condensation before orange peel mold, but we’re here for only a few more days, so I’ll stop throwing my fruit peels in the trash.
I’ve also been slowly teaching the three year old English. She has already learned all of her colors in school (except black and white – is this a politically correct anti-racism thing?) and she knows a few words from Dora La Exploradora. I have added to her repertoire the numbers 1-8 and 10 (nine is always neglected), the phrases “hello” and “bye bye” and also “high five” and “I love you.” She is probably better at English than I am at Spanish. She was also singing a song and was frustrated that I didn’t know what song it was. After a long 10 minutes, I finally figured out that “goo maa hing” was “good morning.” The pronunciation is really funny. Also, the 22 year old in the house has studied british English, which I never really considered. But I was so surprised to hear how she pronounced “water” and a few other things. We also met a Seville native last night who lived in Dublin for a few years, and it was so funny to hear a Spanish man with a thick irish accent.
Anyway, I can’t believe there is only one week left! We have some final exams/papers to finish up and then it’s all over! Sam arrives on Saturday, and we’ll be traveling to Barcelona, Rome and Paris. He’s a little nervous for Saturday lunch with the family, but I have confidence that Basic Spanish 2 has been treating him well this trimester, and at the very least he’ll be able to say “Estoy supercontento” and “el nombre de mi perro es caballito” (the name of my dog is little horse), which should give off a decent impression. My host family is very excited to be preparing carne con tomate for him, and is also excited to take “romantic pictures of us on the terrace, hugging and kissing as if we were married.” The latter may be slightly awkward.
It will be a very bittersweet goodbye!
Hasta luego!
Also: we are going to Rayas tonight which is supposed to be the best icecream place in Seville. Interestingly enough, according to my host family, neither the oil of spain nor the icrecream of spain “se engordaria” (will fatten you).
Also, this week a favorite professor of ours from Union came to visit us. She is looking into alternative schools for the term abroad program and a few of us went out with her to “Horno” – a great Seville bakery. They serve a great palmero –which is a Spanish psaltery shaped like a soft pretzel and covered in chocolate or a sugary egg-cream frosting. Delicious!
This week also marks the end of our friendship with the heater. Even though the temperature has yet to rise, it is officially no longer “estufa” season according to our host mom. I am dreading the day I come home from class and it is no longer next to my bed to warm my feet. I will have to start resorting to placing my feet on my computer charger, which gets pretty warm after a long face-book or essay-writing session. We were also told that we should stop placing orange peels in the trash due to the mold the housekeeper has detected near the shower walls. The theory here is that the orange peels are getting moldy, and that the fungus is spreading to the shower walls. I can’t say I’m a subscriber to this theory – I may have blamed humidity/condensation before orange peel mold, but we’re here for only a few more days, so I’ll stop throwing my fruit peels in the trash.
I’ve also been slowly teaching the three year old English. She has already learned all of her colors in school (except black and white – is this a politically correct anti-racism thing?) and she knows a few words from Dora La Exploradora. I have added to her repertoire the numbers 1-8 and 10 (nine is always neglected), the phrases “hello” and “bye bye” and also “high five” and “I love you.” She is probably better at English than I am at Spanish. She was also singing a song and was frustrated that I didn’t know what song it was. After a long 10 minutes, I finally figured out that “goo maa hing” was “good morning.” The pronunciation is really funny. Also, the 22 year old in the house has studied british English, which I never really considered. But I was so surprised to hear how she pronounced “water” and a few other things. We also met a Seville native last night who lived in Dublin for a few years, and it was so funny to hear a Spanish man with a thick irish accent.
Anyway, I can’t believe there is only one week left! We have some final exams/papers to finish up and then it’s all over! Sam arrives on Saturday, and we’ll be traveling to Barcelona, Rome and Paris. He’s a little nervous for Saturday lunch with the family, but I have confidence that Basic Spanish 2 has been treating him well this trimester, and at the very least he’ll be able to say “Estoy supercontento” and “el nombre de mi perro es caballito” (the name of my dog is little horse), which should give off a decent impression. My host family is very excited to be preparing carne con tomate for him, and is also excited to take “romantic pictures of us on the terrace, hugging and kissing as if we were married.” The latter may be slightly awkward.
It will be a very bittersweet goodbye!
Hasta luego!
Also: we are going to Rayas tonight which is supposed to be the best icecream place in Seville. Interestingly enough, according to my host family, neither the oil of spain nor the icrecream of spain “se engordaria” (will fatten you).
Motos and Madrid
Hola!
I can hardly believe it is my last week in Seville. These past nine weeks have really flown by. There is still so much I want to do! I have yet to see a full flamenco dance show and go to the top of the Giralda tower.
Starting from where I left off last time I wrote, I went on a moto! The 18 year old daughter, Blanca, and I went shopping at a mall outside of Seville. We haven’t talked too much, so it was almost like an awkward first date. First, I couldn’t get my helmet on, so she had to put it on for me, then when we got on the moto I didn’t know where to put my hands…. Anyway, the moto was really fun to ride. It was a little scary at first, weaving in and out of the traffic, and especially on the highway. But she was a good driver, and even after the moto broke down on a busy street, after some quick 18-year-old-mechanic skills we were back on the highway within 8 minutes or so. It was cool to be able to talk to her and get to know her a little better, and it was so nice of her to take me.
We went for a long weekend to Madrid and Toledo, which was great. We took the Ave, which is a high speed train, direct from Sevilla to Madrid. Madrid is the New York City of Spain. It is very industrial and they don’t siesta there because most people commute a fair distance to work. Even though it was much less European than Toledo or Sevilla, it was still much prettier and elegant looking than NYC. Upon arriving to Madrid, a few of the girls in the group decided to tour Madrid on foot. We put on our running clothes and plowed through the crowded sidewalks. People in Spain don’t exercise, and when they do, they go to a gym, so we definitely drew a lot of attention to ourselves as obnoxious Americans - especially in a pack of 5. But we were able to see so much of Madrid! Plaza Mayor, some key churches and museums, and a nice park. We also visited the Prado Museum and saw some classic works of art. Frankly, I can’t take more than 15 minutes of pre-18th century religious works, but it was cool to see Goya’s works and learn the stories behind them.
At the hotel we were served a classy 3 course meal. It started off with a bowl that had about 3 tablespoons worth of chopped green unidentifiable vegetables in it. It was decorated elaborately with drizzles of a brown sauce that looked like, but did not taste like, Hershey’s syrup. We ate our green vegetables, of which only one was identifiable (asparagus), and then became extremely confused when the waiters came around to pour the broth into the bowls that were apparently for soup. In broken Spanish, we attempted to explain why there were no longer any vegetables to pour the broth over. FAIL. (Side note: while explaining this story to my host mom, I insisted on calling the bowl “plato ondulado” instead of “plato ondo.” “Plato ondulado” means “wavy plate.” FAIL.) Soup was followed by salmon covered in a light green sauce, served with an oven roasted tomato and oven roasted potatoes. Dessert was a bowl of eggnog with a husk cherry on the side. It was not technically eggnog, but I could not come up with one distinction between the two, minus the husk cherry.
The next day we went to Toledo. The town is exactly what you would picture a little European village to be like. The jewelry is beautiful. For lunch we went to a little restaurant and had gazpacho. I’m glad I tried it, but cold tomatoes and vinegar is not my thing. Dinner, on the other hand, was spaghetti, veal and chocolate tiramisu which was right up my alley. We also took some apples from the hotel dining area after dinner, which we later discovered to be display apples, covered in grease for shine purposes. At night we utilized the metro, checked out a couple of different bars (including an Irish bar where a BC student I swear I’ve never met recognized me and proved the connection in 7-degrees-of-separation-to-Ebram-Megally form). My friend Shelby also recognized a girl at the bar who had attended her 21st birthday party at home in Boston. Small world.
The following day was rainy and we visited the Thysson museum and did a little bit of exploring. We went out for Thai food that night (my first Thai experience). It was great! I tried some Pad Thai, Pork with peanut sauce, and a great fried rice. At night, we went to a 7 floor night club called Kapital. It was a little pricy, but I tried to justify it by figuring that it only cost 3 euros per floor.
In the morning we went to the Reina Sofia museum which had a lot of war art. We saw some Dali, which was cool. On the street, instead of greasy Italian sausages and frozen pretzels, the vendors sold fresh coconut halves, grilled corn on the cob, and grilled whole sweet potatoes. We went to Plaza Mayor and got some cheese sandwiches for 1 Euro and saw the street performers. Very fun.
It was a great weekend! I could definitely have spent more time in Madrid!
Hasta luego!
I can hardly believe it is my last week in Seville. These past nine weeks have really flown by. There is still so much I want to do! I have yet to see a full flamenco dance show and go to the top of the Giralda tower.
Starting from where I left off last time I wrote, I went on a moto! The 18 year old daughter, Blanca, and I went shopping at a mall outside of Seville. We haven’t talked too much, so it was almost like an awkward first date. First, I couldn’t get my helmet on, so she had to put it on for me, then when we got on the moto I didn’t know where to put my hands…. Anyway, the moto was really fun to ride. It was a little scary at first, weaving in and out of the traffic, and especially on the highway. But she was a good driver, and even after the moto broke down on a busy street, after some quick 18-year-old-mechanic skills we were back on the highway within 8 minutes or so. It was cool to be able to talk to her and get to know her a little better, and it was so nice of her to take me.
We went for a long weekend to Madrid and Toledo, which was great. We took the Ave, which is a high speed train, direct from Sevilla to Madrid. Madrid is the New York City of Spain. It is very industrial and they don’t siesta there because most people commute a fair distance to work. Even though it was much less European than Toledo or Sevilla, it was still much prettier and elegant looking than NYC. Upon arriving to Madrid, a few of the girls in the group decided to tour Madrid on foot. We put on our running clothes and plowed through the crowded sidewalks. People in Spain don’t exercise, and when they do, they go to a gym, so we definitely drew a lot of attention to ourselves as obnoxious Americans - especially in a pack of 5. But we were able to see so much of Madrid! Plaza Mayor, some key churches and museums, and a nice park. We also visited the Prado Museum and saw some classic works of art. Frankly, I can’t take more than 15 minutes of pre-18th century religious works, but it was cool to see Goya’s works and learn the stories behind them.
At the hotel we were served a classy 3 course meal. It started off with a bowl that had about 3 tablespoons worth of chopped green unidentifiable vegetables in it. It was decorated elaborately with drizzles of a brown sauce that looked like, but did not taste like, Hershey’s syrup. We ate our green vegetables, of which only one was identifiable (asparagus), and then became extremely confused when the waiters came around to pour the broth into the bowls that were apparently for soup. In broken Spanish, we attempted to explain why there were no longer any vegetables to pour the broth over. FAIL. (Side note: while explaining this story to my host mom, I insisted on calling the bowl “plato ondulado” instead of “plato ondo.” “Plato ondulado” means “wavy plate.” FAIL.) Soup was followed by salmon covered in a light green sauce, served with an oven roasted tomato and oven roasted potatoes. Dessert was a bowl of eggnog with a husk cherry on the side. It was not technically eggnog, but I could not come up with one distinction between the two, minus the husk cherry.
The next day we went to Toledo. The town is exactly what you would picture a little European village to be like. The jewelry is beautiful. For lunch we went to a little restaurant and had gazpacho. I’m glad I tried it, but cold tomatoes and vinegar is not my thing. Dinner, on the other hand, was spaghetti, veal and chocolate tiramisu which was right up my alley. We also took some apples from the hotel dining area after dinner, which we later discovered to be display apples, covered in grease for shine purposes. At night we utilized the metro, checked out a couple of different bars (including an Irish bar where a BC student I swear I’ve never met recognized me and proved the connection in 7-degrees-of-separation-to-Ebram-Megally form). My friend Shelby also recognized a girl at the bar who had attended her 21st birthday party at home in Boston. Small world.
The following day was rainy and we visited the Thysson museum and did a little bit of exploring. We went out for Thai food that night (my first Thai experience). It was great! I tried some Pad Thai, Pork with peanut sauce, and a great fried rice. At night, we went to a 7 floor night club called Kapital. It was a little pricy, but I tried to justify it by figuring that it only cost 3 euros per floor.
In the morning we went to the Reina Sofia museum which had a lot of war art. We saw some Dali, which was cool. On the street, instead of greasy Italian sausages and frozen pretzels, the vendors sold fresh coconut halves, grilled corn on the cob, and grilled whole sweet potatoes. We went to Plaza Mayor and got some cheese sandwiches for 1 Euro and saw the street performers. Very fun.
It was a great weekend! I could definitely have spent more time in Madrid!
Hasta luego!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
El Supermercado
They were playing J. Lo’s greatest hits CD in the grocery store today. I love this country. I also love going grocery shopping here because everything is so cheap and I feel like a true “resident” doing errands that real Spanish people to instead of just wearing Uggs, going into souvenir shops and getting tall chai lattes from Starbucks, which, unfortunately, I do more frequently. I bought green apples, butter for my chocolate chip cookies today, and a loaf of bread for the family. The supermarket also has a large meat department, in which giant pig legs are hanging from the ceiling, and a fish display with fish heads organized in an ornate design. The milk is all ultra-high-pasturized, which means it is not refrigerated, there are more kinds of marmalade than there are fruits, and there is cream cheese, although no one here has even seen or heard of a bagel (except in a few select Starbucks).
Anyway, my host mom gave me money for the bread, but I gave it back to her and said “it’s on me.” They acted like I had just taken the bill at Ruth's Chris Steak House (a loaf of sandwich bread costs $0.60). I was just like “Instead of me taking the money, let me make an extra sandwich sometime.” They laughed and said “thank you” but in all seriousness, the $0.60 was definitely worth the liberty of making myself a sandwich at the time of my choice.
Anyway, my host mom gave me money for the bread, but I gave it back to her and said “it’s on me.” They acted like I had just taken the bill at Ruth's Chris Steak House (a loaf of sandwich bread costs $0.60). I was just like “Instead of me taking the money, let me make an extra sandwich sometime.” They laughed and said “thank you” but in all seriousness, the $0.60 was definitely worth the liberty of making myself a sandwich at the time of my choice.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Isa....not "Lisa" from the Simpsons
Spanish people do not understand the letter "z." It is only pronounced in a select few words, and generally resembles more or an "s" sound. My host father has a particularly hard time with this, and decided to refer to me as the Spanish translation of my name, Isabel. For short, I am Isa. This is humorous, especially because of the complete lack of resemblance I have to the over-sized-basketball-jersey-wearing 4th grader I tutored in Schenectady, also named Isa.
Julia, the three year old, does her best to pronounce my name, but it generally comes out sounding Asian. She screams "Leeeeeeeee" which I now recognize as my name. She also makes the connection with my name and "Lisa from the Simpsons" and every time they say the name "Lisa" during the program, the little girl screams "Los nombres son iguales" (the names are the same) and throws her head back in a fit of laughter for about 2 minutes. Since Lisa is a frequent character, us watching the Simpsons usually just turns into us watching Julia belly laugh for 30 minutes.
Anyway, my host father suffered a pretty harsh case of meningitis about 5 years ago. He was in the hospital and in a coma for a good amount of time, and has lost a little bit of his memory. According to him, he's 80% back to normal. You probably wouldn't notice anything different unless you know, but he does speak slower than most Spaniards, and often forgets the names of things. I'll ask him what the name is for the eggplant we are eating, and he usually responds with "I forget what that's called, but what is this thing?" and then I'll say "Son guisantes" (those are peas). It's fine, though. I tell him we'll learn the Spanish language together and then he usually laughs and calls me a smart one.
Anyway, Alejandro is quite the musician, and played guitar and sang in flamenco bars back in the day. He is always singing in the house, and gives guitar lessons to his nephew on the weekends. He has forgotten a lot of songs and has had to re-train the muscles in his hands since the meningitis. Whenever Suzie (the Irish exchange student in our house) walks into a room, he bursts out into a Spanish song called "Susana." Not knowing any equivalent to sing upon my entrance, he usually just starts repeating the word "Ameeeerica" in a harmonic tone.
Today I was getting ready to go out for the afternoon, when Alejandro bursts into the room (he has never been in our room before, so we were a little taken back) and starts singing extremely loudly and dancing in our room. It was a song about putting your sombrero on at the beach, and the chorus included a shout out to a woman named Maria Isabel." We got a refrain two or three times, and Rachel and I clapped and said "Bravo" but were also so taken back by this man screaming and dancing around our room. We had no idea what spawned this. He supported himself against the wall for a breather, and eventually told us that he had spontaneously recovered memory of the song just 5 minutes ago, and knew he had to show it to us since it was "my song", as it contained the word "Isabel." This made a little more sense now, but it was still so surprising. Now I have a song for him to sing to me!
He is honestly a great guy, and we've gotten to know him the most, as we eat all our our meals with him, and only occasionally with our house mom. He is so kind, and always says that "they are very lucky to have gotten such nice Americans, but WE really won the lottery living with them." It's true, but its funny to hear him say that. He also tells us he will cry when we leave and that he will miss us. We reply with a "you too" comment, which actually makes no sense, since they aren't going to be leaving any time soon (think Brian Regan's 'you too' segment). But its the only thing we can think of to say.
He's a great guy! And is teaching me to cook like a true Sevillano!
Hasta luego
Julia, the three year old, does her best to pronounce my name, but it generally comes out sounding Asian. She screams "Leeeeeeeee" which I now recognize as my name. She also makes the connection with my name and "Lisa from the Simpsons" and every time they say the name "Lisa" during the program, the little girl screams "Los nombres son iguales" (the names are the same) and throws her head back in a fit of laughter for about 2 minutes. Since Lisa is a frequent character, us watching the Simpsons usually just turns into us watching Julia belly laugh for 30 minutes.
Anyway, my host father suffered a pretty harsh case of meningitis about 5 years ago. He was in the hospital and in a coma for a good amount of time, and has lost a little bit of his memory. According to him, he's 80% back to normal. You probably wouldn't notice anything different unless you know, but he does speak slower than most Spaniards, and often forgets the names of things. I'll ask him what the name is for the eggplant we are eating, and he usually responds with "I forget what that's called, but what is this thing?" and then I'll say "Son guisantes" (those are peas). It's fine, though. I tell him we'll learn the Spanish language together and then he usually laughs and calls me a smart one.
Anyway, Alejandro is quite the musician, and played guitar and sang in flamenco bars back in the day. He is always singing in the house, and gives guitar lessons to his nephew on the weekends. He has forgotten a lot of songs and has had to re-train the muscles in his hands since the meningitis. Whenever Suzie (the Irish exchange student in our house) walks into a room, he bursts out into a Spanish song called "Susana." Not knowing any equivalent to sing upon my entrance, he usually just starts repeating the word "Ameeeerica" in a harmonic tone.
Today I was getting ready to go out for the afternoon, when Alejandro bursts into the room (he has never been in our room before, so we were a little taken back) and starts singing extremely loudly and dancing in our room. It was a song about putting your sombrero on at the beach, and the chorus included a shout out to a woman named Maria Isabel." We got a refrain two or three times, and Rachel and I clapped and said "Bravo" but were also so taken back by this man screaming and dancing around our room. We had no idea what spawned this. He supported himself against the wall for a breather, and eventually told us that he had spontaneously recovered memory of the song just 5 minutes ago, and knew he had to show it to us since it was "my song", as it contained the word "Isabel." This made a little more sense now, but it was still so surprising. Now I have a song for him to sing to me!
He is honestly a great guy, and we've gotten to know him the most, as we eat all our our meals with him, and only occasionally with our house mom. He is so kind, and always says that "they are very lucky to have gotten such nice Americans, but WE really won the lottery living with them." It's true, but its funny to hear him say that. He also tells us he will cry when we leave and that he will miss us. We reply with a "you too" comment, which actually makes no sense, since they aren't going to be leaving any time soon (think Brian Regan's 'you too' segment). But its the only thing we can think of to say.
He's a great guy! And is teaching me to cook like a true Sevillano!
Hasta luego
Cadiz
Last weekend, we went to Cadiz for Carnaval. Carnaval is basically like a weekend of Halloween in a city 1.5 hours from Seville. Every one dresses up, and it's just a giant party. It was supposed to pour rain, but we decided to go anyway.
Rachel and I dressed in masks and matching shirts, and our amigas dressed as either ninjas or Hawaiin hula girls.
After an entertaining bus ride to Cadiz, we were dropped off at 9:30, to board the bus at 3. We heard it was best to stay until 7 or 8 in the morning and take a train, but we stuck with the 3AM bus ride. Carnaval is the 3rd biggest party in the world. Cadiz is almost an island, connected to the rest of the country by a small stretch of land. Regardless, we did not see the ocean. The streets were packed. Everyone was dressed in extremely elaborate costumes. There was no one (except us) who had a lackluster outfit. Many costumes were hand-sewn and were worn by large groups of people. They were all very creative. We saw a lot of cows and babies, gypsies, geishas and a group of 20 men dressed as sperm. Basically, the streets are so packed you can barely move, and everyone just drinks, in costume, on the street. There was a stage with a chorus singing songs that were religious parodies, but mainly, there were just potato chip stands, and crazy drunk people. Bars weren't even open, but instead, closed off their doors and sold food and drink counter-style from the door. It was crazy. It was fun, but after an hour, we were frozen and unamused by drunken ladybugs and crossdressers. We warmed up in Burger King, although we ironically ordered icecreams. We lingered for quite a while, having no desire to go back out into the streets. People were jammed into the building, with empty patches of floor occupied only by vomit. after an hour, we were kicked out of our table for staying too long. Getting kicked out of Burger King was an all-time low.
We re-entered the crowd, and huddled in a circle for warmth until the bus came an hour later to take us home. It wasn't the most pleasant bus ride home, as the girl across the aisle vomited in my direction just 10 minutes into the 90 minute trip. I experienced instant flash-backs to my freshman year dorm room.
All in all, a great experience....for an hour. I have never seen so may people in great costumes, but it was overwhelming to be amongst thousands of intoxicated people, especially when they were dressed as Spongebob square pants or transvestite nurses. The weather was a little tough, too, but that was to be expected.
Still, it was an experience, and I'm glad to say I've seen Cadiz at its prime!
Side note: Julia, the three year old daughter in my house, had dress up for Carnaval the following Monday at her school. She dressed up as a strawberry and was the cutest strawberry I have ever seen.
"Horrible Nesquik"
They say it never rains in Seville. It also never snows in Seville. And yet, for the past two weeks, we have barely seen our friend, the sun. The people here don't know what to do. They say they have never had a winter like this, that was this cold and rainy. My host father blames it on me, and whenever anyone makes a comment about the weather he says "the american girl brought it here with her!"
I haven't written in a while, but that's because the past two weeks have been very busy and also not a lot of interesting things have happened. It has been absolutely great, and I am DEFINITELY not ready to go home in 3 weeks, but not a whole lot has changed.
Rachel and I both caught the gastrointeritis plague, but were each out of school for just one day. Everyone has gotten it. Every member of my family here, except the dog. I won't go into details, because they aren't pretty, but after a few natural yogurts and soups, we were all fine.
Last Friday we went to Cordoba. We visited the mezquita mosque, which is unbelievably gorgeous. It has Christian and Muslim and Jewish roots, all from different time periods, rolled into a very pretty mosque. Other than that, there wasn't a whole lot to do in Cordoba. It was raining (as usual) and so we hung out in a tapas bar, where a few tried salmorejo (a puree of tomato and vinegar, served in a glass). It looks like a creamsicle smoothie, especially since you drink it like a smoothie, without any utensils. I passed on this specialty, not being too fond of tomatoes, but I heard it was good.
For Valentines day, I was lucky enough to have 12 roses delivered to my room, courtesy of my boyfriend Sam. I was a very happy girl. They are beautiful and are a great addition to our cozy little room. They don't celebrate El Dia de San Valentin here very much. The family was so taken back as to why I was getting such an elaborate and beautiful gift!
Also for Valentines day, the girls in my class picked names and got eachother a little something. It was really cute. I received some Lindt truffles and a spanish dessert recipe book from my friend Shelby, which was so thoughtful. It will be a great thing to try out back home. Hopefully my Spanish translations and metric conversions won't get in the way!
This weekend I had plans to go to Portugal. Two of my friends and I decided to rent a car (just 40 Euros!) and drive 3 hours to Lagos. It was supposed to pour buckets all weekend (surprise surprise but we didn't have much to lose). Yesterday morning we were all ready to go. We got to the airport (where the car rental place it), but couldn't find the rental place. After asking one of the other offices, we found out that the company wasn't located at the airport, and that we were supposed to wait under the green advertisement for life insurance if we were waiting for GoldCar. An hour later, the representative arrived, and we double checked the price, and the information and they took us in a van to the rental place. At the rental place, they sneakily added fees for gasoline, leaving the country, being under 21, eating a sandwich while in line at the office (not actually, but we wouldn't have been surprised), etc. So it would cost almost 4 times as much as we anticipated, we didn't have an actual plan of things to do in Lagos, and it was supposed to pour rain. In the end, we bagged the trip and pretended to be tourists in Seville for the day. There was still so much we wanted to do in Seville, that we had never taken the time to.
I was so flustered coming home from the airport, that my host dad got me strawberries and put them in a plastic bag so that I could "go for a walk, sit by the river, and relax while eating the finest, reddest and sweetest strawberries I will ever eat.") Magically, the sun was out, and it was one of the most beautiful days we have had. We ate lunch outside (carne con tomate, tuna and vegetable croquettes, french fries and a fried egg), we shopped and we got drinks by the river which we enjoyed with strawberries. For dinner, we ate the first pizza we'd had since 2009, and it was unbelievable. A great day.
When I got home, I had a chat with my host Dad, who casually described how great of a mother his wife was, and how she had helped her daughter with her exam this morning. He went on to describe how his 18 year old daughter had placed a tick-sized auditory device in her inner ear, and how her mother sat at the living room table, with 10 open books and notebooks in front of her, dictating the answers to the exam. He said "wasn't that so nice of my wife? What great teamwork. She will get a great grade and she can never get caught! Look how small it is!" The concept of cheating being morally unsound was never even touched upon. He was so proud that his family was living a "vida de lujo" (life of luxury) by achieving success using such advanced technology. I couldn't believe it. He was also so nice as to offer to lend me the device, for when I take my med school exams. I thanked him for this offer, but declined, explaining it was probably for the best that as a doctor, I know the answers to such exams. He gave me a confused look and shrugged his shoulders. I guess it's just a culture thing.
For dinner, I got to choose what we had (a first!). I chose tortilla espanola, so I could take notes on how to prepare this wonderful potato omlette. It is quite easy, with the only ingredients being egg and potatoes. It was scrumptious. It was served alongside slimy little silver fried fish with the heads still on, which I was unfortunately "way too full" to take any of.
Night life has been pretty standard, and generally entails conversations amongst my Union girlfriends and I. Usually we will make small talk with sevillanos for some of the time, which almost always includes a joke about how my name is "equal to that of the girl on the Simpsons." I then emphasize the "z" to distinguish "Liz" from "Lisa."
On one occassion, the conversation was about how this group of Spaniards did not like "chinos" (Chinese). The Spainiards are very open about raicism here. People are not at all ashamed to sound politically incorrect, and don't hesitate to say that they do not like a particular racial group. In this particular conversation, the fact that these boys were so open about disliking Chinese was surprising, but I did not become personally involved until they started noticing that my eyes are so small that they resemble those of the "chinos" especially when I smile. I thought I had grown out of this, when my Aunt Marion mentioned circa 2006 that she had thrown away our Christmas card, thinking she didn't know the family, since my eyes usually look "more Oriental" than they had in that photo.
Also, upon arriving at a discoteca last night, my roommate and I were instructed by the bouncer to stay about 15 feet back from the men in front of us in line, so we wouldn't be able to hear the conversation in front of us. The men in front of us were 2 Arabic men and one man with lighter skin. Although everyone else in line was able to enter, the Arabic men were turned away. Inside, there were no people of African descent. I couldn't believe that these attitudes were not only so prominent, but that they still compromise the rights of those with minority backgrounds. Even my host father, a great man, says that he respects anyone of any culture, except the Moros (Arabs) because they can't be trusted. The host families of my friends have made similar comments.
On a lighter note, I am making chocolate chip cookies for the family. They are not big on desserts, but they went nuts for the apple crisp and the brownies I made last week, and are now requesting that I make something at least once a week. I'm happy to do it! They really liked the brownies, especially since they had nothing else to do with the "horrible Nesquik" (aka unsweetened baking cocoa) their daughter had brought back from the Dominican Republic. "It tastes so bad mixed with milk" my mother told me. Last week was the first time that we had dessert with a meal. My host mother made an orange "bizcocho" (cake) which was delicious. I told her she would have to show me how to make it before I leave. I know how to make orange cake already, I just really want to have dessert again.
Hasta luego!
I haven't written in a while, but that's because the past two weeks have been very busy and also not a lot of interesting things have happened. It has been absolutely great, and I am DEFINITELY not ready to go home in 3 weeks, but not a whole lot has changed.
Rachel and I both caught the gastrointeritis plague, but were each out of school for just one day. Everyone has gotten it. Every member of my family here, except the dog. I won't go into details, because they aren't pretty, but after a few natural yogurts and soups, we were all fine.
Last Friday we went to Cordoba. We visited the mezquita mosque, which is unbelievably gorgeous. It has Christian and Muslim and Jewish roots, all from different time periods, rolled into a very pretty mosque. Other than that, there wasn't a whole lot to do in Cordoba. It was raining (as usual) and so we hung out in a tapas bar, where a few tried salmorejo (a puree of tomato and vinegar, served in a glass). It looks like a creamsicle smoothie, especially since you drink it like a smoothie, without any utensils. I passed on this specialty, not being too fond of tomatoes, but I heard it was good.
For Valentines day, I was lucky enough to have 12 roses delivered to my room, courtesy of my boyfriend Sam. I was a very happy girl. They are beautiful and are a great addition to our cozy little room. They don't celebrate El Dia de San Valentin here very much. The family was so taken back as to why I was getting such an elaborate and beautiful gift!
Also for Valentines day, the girls in my class picked names and got eachother a little something. It was really cute. I received some Lindt truffles and a spanish dessert recipe book from my friend Shelby, which was so thoughtful. It will be a great thing to try out back home. Hopefully my Spanish translations and metric conversions won't get in the way!
This weekend I had plans to go to Portugal. Two of my friends and I decided to rent a car (just 40 Euros!) and drive 3 hours to Lagos. It was supposed to pour buckets all weekend (surprise surprise but we didn't have much to lose). Yesterday morning we were all ready to go. We got to the airport (where the car rental place it), but couldn't find the rental place. After asking one of the other offices, we found out that the company wasn't located at the airport, and that we were supposed to wait under the green advertisement for life insurance if we were waiting for GoldCar. An hour later, the representative arrived, and we double checked the price, and the information and they took us in a van to the rental place. At the rental place, they sneakily added fees for gasoline, leaving the country, being under 21, eating a sandwich while in line at the office (not actually, but we wouldn't have been surprised), etc. So it would cost almost 4 times as much as we anticipated, we didn't have an actual plan of things to do in Lagos, and it was supposed to pour rain. In the end, we bagged the trip and pretended to be tourists in Seville for the day. There was still so much we wanted to do in Seville, that we had never taken the time to.
I was so flustered coming home from the airport, that my host dad got me strawberries and put them in a plastic bag so that I could "go for a walk, sit by the river, and relax while eating the finest, reddest and sweetest strawberries I will ever eat.") Magically, the sun was out, and it was one of the most beautiful days we have had. We ate lunch outside (carne con tomate, tuna and vegetable croquettes, french fries and a fried egg), we shopped and we got drinks by the river which we enjoyed with strawberries. For dinner, we ate the first pizza we'd had since 2009, and it was unbelievable. A great day.
When I got home, I had a chat with my host Dad, who casually described how great of a mother his wife was, and how she had helped her daughter with her exam this morning. He went on to describe how his 18 year old daughter had placed a tick-sized auditory device in her inner ear, and how her mother sat at the living room table, with 10 open books and notebooks in front of her, dictating the answers to the exam. He said "wasn't that so nice of my wife? What great teamwork. She will get a great grade and she can never get caught! Look how small it is!" The concept of cheating being morally unsound was never even touched upon. He was so proud that his family was living a "vida de lujo" (life of luxury) by achieving success using such advanced technology. I couldn't believe it. He was also so nice as to offer to lend me the device, for when I take my med school exams. I thanked him for this offer, but declined, explaining it was probably for the best that as a doctor, I know the answers to such exams. He gave me a confused look and shrugged his shoulders. I guess it's just a culture thing.
For dinner, I got to choose what we had (a first!). I chose tortilla espanola, so I could take notes on how to prepare this wonderful potato omlette. It is quite easy, with the only ingredients being egg and potatoes. It was scrumptious. It was served alongside slimy little silver fried fish with the heads still on, which I was unfortunately "way too full" to take any of.
Night life has been pretty standard, and generally entails conversations amongst my Union girlfriends and I. Usually we will make small talk with sevillanos for some of the time, which almost always includes a joke about how my name is "equal to that of the girl on the Simpsons." I then emphasize the "z" to distinguish "Liz" from "Lisa."
On one occassion, the conversation was about how this group of Spaniards did not like "chinos" (Chinese). The Spainiards are very open about raicism here. People are not at all ashamed to sound politically incorrect, and don't hesitate to say that they do not like a particular racial group. In this particular conversation, the fact that these boys were so open about disliking Chinese was surprising, but I did not become personally involved until they started noticing that my eyes are so small that they resemble those of the "chinos" especially when I smile. I thought I had grown out of this, when my Aunt Marion mentioned circa 2006 that she had thrown away our Christmas card, thinking she didn't know the family, since my eyes usually look "more Oriental" than they had in that photo.
Also, upon arriving at a discoteca last night, my roommate and I were instructed by the bouncer to stay about 15 feet back from the men in front of us in line, so we wouldn't be able to hear the conversation in front of us. The men in front of us were 2 Arabic men and one man with lighter skin. Although everyone else in line was able to enter, the Arabic men were turned away. Inside, there were no people of African descent. I couldn't believe that these attitudes were not only so prominent, but that they still compromise the rights of those with minority backgrounds. Even my host father, a great man, says that he respects anyone of any culture, except the Moros (Arabs) because they can't be trusted. The host families of my friends have made similar comments.
On a lighter note, I am making chocolate chip cookies for the family. They are not big on desserts, but they went nuts for the apple crisp and the brownies I made last week, and are now requesting that I make something at least once a week. I'm happy to do it! They really liked the brownies, especially since they had nothing else to do with the "horrible Nesquik" (aka unsweetened baking cocoa) their daughter had brought back from the Dominican Republic. "It tastes so bad mixed with milk" my mother told me. Last week was the first time that we had dessert with a meal. My host mother made an orange "bizcocho" (cake) which was delicious. I told her she would have to show me how to make it before I leave. I know how to make orange cake already, I just really want to have dessert again.
Hasta luego!
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