Avispa en mi Coronilla

Italy Part 2

2008-11-10T08:28:00.000-08:00

Day 3- still in Florence

In front of the Duomo in Florence.

A me sized car. (it's being plugged in to charge)

I supported the arts and gave this guy a Euro so I could take a picture. Too bad it's only chalk.

Mommy, for you!

Inside the Duomo in Florence. Not a very impressive picture, but there is a 24 hour clock! And you can probably imagine it was pretty inside.

To make up for the last picture being a little less than spectacular, feast your eyes on this one! Blackberry and Mango gellato, TOGETHER!

A view of Florence from the other side of the bridge.
From here we walked to the right a little, up a big hill, where we had intentions to find a church with singing Monks. After sitting in one church for awhile, we realized that what we thought were monks warming up in another room was probably a CD being played. So we moved on to another church, and found the singing Monks. Amazing.

A view of Florence from the hilltop while looking for the singing Monks.

Fall Colors! Haven't seen too many of these in Sevilla, so it was good for the eyes.

The real statue of David used to be here, but now in his place is a bronze replica. And Oh what a replica it is!

A view of the city. That's the Duomo sticking up in the middle.

Day Four- Florence to Chinque Terra
by train

Liza guarding our little equipaje (our luggage). Could this road really be the right way to get to our hostel? After about 30 yards it got even more weedy, windy, narrow, and uphill. We gave up the goose chase for the hostel and settled on a hotel by the sea, where we could hear the waves lapping up on the shore all night!

Beginig our hike from town number 1- Monterosso.

St. Francis of Asisi

One the trail. There were vineyards on the hills, and the hills rolled right down into the ocean.

How quaint! A bridge!

Meara and Liza and a really cool stone wall.

Cat bums. There was a sign that said something to the effects of ¨please feed us! No one loves us!¨But don´t worry. They looked pretty fat and happy. One of the cats even had a cat sized tend, which you can see in the background.

Arriving in town number 2- Vernazza.

Be warned, there´s a ferocious PUG!

After scarfing pizza and our second gellato of the day, we leave Vernazza, and we´re on to Corniglia.

I thought about my geology course I took this summer. If you want to know why, ask me in person.

Taking a path through an olive grove. These trees have nets underneath to catch the olives when the ripen and fall off the treed.

Sign for Corniglia!

Path going through someone´s back yard, with a great patch of fall leaves.

We can see Corniglia off in the distance!

Another group of cats bumming at yet another set of picnic tables.

Rad hiking hair!

Town 3- Corniglia!

Railroad tracks runnig through the towns, much of the tracks laid in underground tunnels.

Day 4- Cinque Terre to Milan by railroad

The Duomo in Milan. I couldn't take pictures inside, but there were mummified Popes (yes, plural) in glass tombs.
The other incredible part about the Duomo was the stained glass that told the most incredible visual stories.

Flower booth in the rain!

Pictures from Italy, Day 1 and 2

2008-11-07T04:13:00.000-08:00

Day 1- Sevilla to Pisa by Airplane

Pisa to Florence by Train

From the back of the bus in Pisa. The very first picture I took in Italy!

Crossing the bridge in Pisa.

The tower... it's LEANING!!!

Thank goodness Chelsea came by. It might have toppled otherwise!

Pretty great souvenirs...

Before I broke down and bought sexy Italian boots, this was the sad state of my feet.

First train ticket... going from Pisa to Florence. Didn't realize that Florence is called Firenze in Italian... important detail to know when your train stop is the city name.

Meal number 1 in Italy. This is my room mate Meara looking ferociously hungry. And our pizza was, indeed, heart shaped.

Day 2- Exploring Florence
First thing is first, we saw the David. The verdict- No man will ever compare.

We couldn't take pictures inside the museum, so I found this one on the internet.

Then, on to exploring the city. There was an outdoor statue mall.

Death to Centaur by Club!

Death to Mythological character by other mythological character!!!

My first Italian Gellato... fig flavored and heavenly! I will give you a little education on Gellato. First thing is first, you can order a cup or cone. But it's not given to you by scoops, you can choose 2 or 3 or even more flavors... whatever fits inside your cup! And, the flavors are amazing. The flavor you order actually tastes like it's supposed to, because they use real, fresh ingredients. A little hint... when you're trying to choose which gellateria to go to, take a look at the banana flavor as a judge of how good the shop is. If the banana flavor is grey, it's good, and made with fresh bananas. If it's bright yellow (think school bus or caution sign), it comes from a mix, and you don't want it.

Florence! This bridge behind me is pretty darn old. I like the last time it was rebuilt was in the 1300s, but don't quote my numbers as the gospel truth. On the bridge are a ton of expensive jewelry shops, where I lusted after the awesome cameos.

On the bridge with my friend Liza.

Just in case you can't see, it says "Real Python skin!"

Lunch...! Pizza with arugula on top.

And really cheesy yummy gnocchi.

Next, we went to the Uffizi, where once again I couldn't take pictures. But here is a pictures I found on the internet of The Birth of Venus, a famous painting by Botticelli, and one of the many great pieces I saw here.

On he roof of the Uffizi.

"No private university." Interestingly enough, I just gave a presentation 2 days before in one of my classes about the privitazation of Universities in the European Union. I've seen protests in the streets of Sevilla, and aparently it's protested here in Italy, too.

Dinner at Mama Mia's.

Day 3- still in Florence

In front of the Duomo. Please note my awesome Italian boots.

The Duomo, from another angle.

Summer in the City

2008-10-22T01:05:00.000-07:00

I spend almost four hours every day in transit to and from the center of the city for my classes. However, it´s so easy to turn this lemon into lemonade- one of my favorite past times is people watching. (Which is indeed one of the greatest perks about living in the city)
In all big cities including Sevilla, inevitably you are going to run into strange people, see strange things, and always, ALWAYS have something to laugh about. Which is exactly what I had to do when I gave an account to Meara of all of the characters I had encountered. Here are just a few-

1. Mr. Sweats
Mr. Sweats was an older man with disheveled and sweaty dark grey hair and he carried a pretty large gut. If I have ever seen anyone take an outfit seriously, this guy did. We were on the bus riding into the city, and I noticed him when we came to the last stop and got out. He was ahead of me at the cross walk, sprinting across all 8 lanes of traffic while there was still pleanty of time. But he´s no middle distancer, and he slowed directly after the cross walk. I rounded the corner and passed him on my way to the tranvía. Then, when the tranvía was at the last stop, Mr. Sweats got up and jumped to the door, reaching around the lady in line to push the button for the door to open, when I noticed he not only had on some serious sweats, but also new sqeaky shoes, of which he immediatly put into good use sprinting to who knows where.

2. Mr. Body Odor
One incredibly early morning I was taking bus 5 into the center of town and ended up downwind of this big bear of a man who had apparently just gotten off a hard day at work and was drenched in sweat. (He smelled pretty ripe and I had no way of escaping the smell in stuffy slow bus number). So of course when he got off at his stop, I was able to breathe easy for the first time in at least 2 miles. Whew!

Well, weeks later, which was yesterday, I ended up on the bus for my afternoon commute to class and ended up holding the handle bar right next to the same man (this time he smelled much better). He read the paper for awhile, holding it just inches from his big coke bottle glasses, and then began to doze. His balding head with a lovely ring of cotton ball hair dropped and jerked as he slept, and we were approaching his stop. Oh my goodness, I though. What if we pass his stop, and he sleeps through it? He would probably be disappointed to sit on the crowded bus while it drove in circles. Perhaps I should tap him on the shoulder and let him know his stop is coming up.

But wait... think about it Chelsea... What if I woke him and told his stop was coming up? That might be wierd. What are the odds that a complete stranger knows which bus stop is YOURS? Would that wierd you out in the slightest? It would wierd me out.
Right about that time the bust abruptly halted in traffic, waking him, and the dillema was solved. So this bear of a man sleepily gets up and smiles apologetically at some lady whom he bumps into, and then as he passes me he accidentaly whops me on the head because he´s so big and the bus is so crowded. ¨Esta bien¨I say, as Mr. Sleepy Head (formally Mr. Body Odor) exits the bus.

3. I heard a rooster on the way to the bus stop.
I kid you not. I live in the 4th largest city in Spain, and in my neighborhood on the way to the bus stop, I heard a rooster crow. The nearest blad of grass is at least a half a mile from my house, and yet, there it was, 315 in the afternoon, rooster crowing steadily from who knows where (was he hanging out on someone´s roof?) My suspicions that it was some Spanish man giving me a hard time was eliminated because it is not humanly possible to make a noise this loud and steady repeately without faltering just a little. Perhaps he was hanging out, waiting to be somenoe´s dinner, but who knows. I´m sure he knows just as well as I do why he is a rooster living in the city.

2008-10-14T01:15:00.000-07:00

So I didn´t actually go to Morocco this weekend, but I will still come away with the knowledge that I have been closer to Africa than I ever had in my life! That´s still somewhat satisfying. Friday morning I woke up at 5 am to shower, left the house by 545 and made an almost hour long trek through the still dark city with my luggage and two of my friends to the river(the city bus I need to take wasn´t running yet). Several times I felt like stopping and napping right there on the sidewalk with my backpack as a pillow, but I resisted. (the sidewalk was a little dirty) We boarded our charter bus by the river where I immediately fell into a time warp of dozing and drooling untill we arrived (I don´t know... 2 or 3 hours/days later?) at the ferry station in Algeciers. Here we waited as ferry after ferry was cancelled (never cancelled more than 5 minutes before scheduled departure) due to inclement weather. We forraged our way through incredible wind to wine in dine in a local hotel, and then returned to await a charter bus from Sevilla to come pick us up. All in all, it was about an 8 and half hour ordeal of sitting in the ferry station, not including our time warp trip to and from Sevilla, but spirits were high and there were pleanty of incredibly hyper and attention starved children in the ferry station to keep things entertaining. Would have been the perfect day to learn how to play RISK. Somewhere around hour 7 I decided that we had been in the ferry station long enough that we could begin a microeconomy, bargaining with other foreigners, this jacket for that candy, that really cute baby for this novel. However, we were forced to leave our new home before the economy was ever really launched into anything. And so, the little country inside the ferry station that could have been never was. And I spent the rest of the weekend in Sevilla.

Saturday morning I awoke at 8 to a yellow sky. It was such a strange color that I couldn´t help but imagine a tornado suddenly dropping down our of the sky, ripping all of the unripe oranges off the trees and all of the clothes off the lines, and bending all of the television antenas in our lovely little neighborhood (so maybe I imagined a pretty tame tornado?), but thankfully it didn´t happen. It just spit rain and blew things around. However, at lunch I was watching the news and saw that 2 boats had tried to leave Algeciers (the port I know so well) and ended up wrecking, so I was happy we didn´t try again for Morocco on this day. The news was filled with floods and rain, and there was another ship that got blown up agaist a cliff and spilled oil in Cádiz. Needless to say, I spent the morning safely reading and resting, and then ventured out to shop once it was nice.

Sunday, I met up with some friends for dinner and a movie, and happened upon a parade of the Virgin Mary of Pilar (to whom I owe thanks for not having class the following day). We saw flags hanging in the neighborhood and asked our host mother what they were for. She told us they were to celebrate the Virgin Mary of Pilar, of whom they would parade a statue of that evening, and so we scoped out church in which she resides and waited for her to appear. We waited with a crowd of people outside of the church, and finally different brotherhoods within the church paraded out. The first was a band playing beautifully haunting music and then people carrying large candle sticks and finally an incredibly large float of the virgin covered in flowers and candles.

I saw Mama Mía with some friends. My favorite part of the entire ordeal was hearing my room mate guffaw from 3 seats down in sheer enjoyment, and my next favortie thing was Pierce Brosnan´s fatal attempt to sing. All in all it was an incredibly silly movie, and once I got past the initial shock, it was really enjoyable.

Afterwards, after having been through terrible withdrawl symptoms from lack of Indian food, I fueled my addiction by eating at a restaurant with the most exquisit smells and tastes I could have asked for. There were spicy, salty, sweet, and hot flavors all in the same meal, which was a pleasant change from the fairly mild flavors of Spanish cuisine. Every once in awhile i just need a good torch to the mouth and a kick in the gut, and that is exactly what I got at this now beloved little Indian restaurant. (needless to say, I´m returing soon)

Chocolate y Churros

2008-10-08T01:49:00.001-07:00

I have four things on my agenda to tell you all (my lovely, dedicated readers) about. The first subject on my mind is a seroius topic that deserves everyone´s undivided attention- I just had my first cup of hot Spanish chocolate. Muy importante, ¿no? Please imagine with me for just a moment (just humor me, I´m all the way in Spain, okay?)... are you ready... a cup of hot chocolate that is so thick it can be eaten with a spoon, with the consistency somewhere between hot cocoa and pudding. ¡Wowee! My blood sugar is still reeling from this Spanish delight (my insides are trembling a little), and I didn´t even touch the packet of sugar that came with it. Just when you think that this story couldn´t get any better, or have a happier ending, I´m going to tell you to hold all assumptions and listen up. Next time I go take chocolate I can ask for churros to go with it. Ladies and gentlemen, please hold on to your seats, because churros are sticks of friend dough that you can actually dip into the chocolate. Okay, now you can be jealous that this is at my disposal to order any time I want during business hours. And now, all I ask from anyone is to please hold judgement if I get happily fat here in Spain. (if you do this, you might receive some chocolate y churros in the mail!)

Okay, on to subject number two. I went on a trip this past weekend, and am planning to upload pictures and tell you all about it another day, in another post. Allrighty, on to topic three!

Yesterday, Meara and I went adventuring around the city in between classes. We decided to visit the Plaza de Espana, and it was pretty cool and big.

Four, I´m going to AFRICA this weekend!

An introduction to my house, and Happy Birthday Cara!

2008-10-02T12:24:00.000-07:00

This picture is for my wonderful, beautiful sister who just turned 23. I ride bus number 23... eerie coincidence or no?

This is Rosario and me on the roof of our house. Rosario is probably one of the most precious people in the whole world, and I happen to be lucky enough to have her as my host mother. She is an amazing cook, amazing host, and so sweet. She calles Meara and I her niñas, and every once in a while she will just give me a big hug and call me her muñeca (her doll).

¡Que Guapa! She is such a model.

I think this bathroom is one of the most wonderful bathrooms in the whole world. I love the tiles on the wall, the tiles on the floor, the great little fixtures (besides the shower head), and yes, I am standing in the shower.

We have a bidet! (In Spanish, bidet). Have yet to try it out.

Some appliance designer needs his/her license revoked. This shower head hangs at a 45 degree angle pointing itself towards the wall. Last Friday when I was showering, the shower head flew off the little holder (not uncommon, usually hits me in the back of the head) but on this particular day it took a kamikaze dive of death past the shower curtain and onto the floor, and the hose was writhing in delight as it gushed water all over the floor. Thank goodness it wasn't a carpeted bathroom.

Peanut Butter and chocolate are the ruling parties, but that's not what my story is about

2008-10-01T11:36:00.001-07:00

So, I have a short little story for you. Last week I had some time to kill and was in the center of town, so I decided to take a walk, go exploring, and get a little lost (but not too lost, you see). It was a beautiful day, and the 6 o'clock sun was keeping the stones on the buildings warm. I was wandering through the narrow streets, enjoying the fact that it's not uncommon to see men in the coolest business suits ever whizzing down the street on their scooters. I was enjoying the moment, marveling in the fact that I am in Spain, and oh look at the little balconies 3 stories up. What would it be like to live on a little cobblestone street in Spain? Could life get any better than this? My mind was savoring the moment like a piece of chocolate dipped in crunchy peanut butter (by the way, in the history of all super heroes and side kicks, pb and chocolate win, case closed).

Interrupting my thoughts, to the right of me was this innocuous little ... splat. hmmm. A sunny weather splat. Upon closer observation, I saw that the cause of the splat was this foamy white ball of spittle, and the perpetrator none other than a 7 year old punk on the third story balcony. And then... he spat again, this little punk! I think he was aiming for me! I looked up at him, and he ran inside, so I must have shown him who the boss clearly was. Hopefully. But Perhaps not. Next time I decide to wander through the streets, I will be armed with vocabulary enough to set this kid straight, or else a water gun! :()

Herederos

2008-10-01T08:15:00.000-07:00

The past few tuesday nights have been filled with drama, sex, passion, money, drugs, baby thefts, and much more. How, you may ask, did my life become so crazy? Because I have been watching the greatest tv series in the history of man kind. Herederos. I don´t think I could have even fathomed what the word drama meant before this show quietly creft into my life and wrapped its fingers around my neck. Now I am hooked, my next breath depending on when I get my next 2 hour fix. If you want the sweet and condensed version, here it goes.

Imagine filthy rich family presided over by matriarchical mother, whose sister is actually her daughter and didn´t know it who has another sister whom we thought was really her daughter but stolen, but it turns out her sister is really her sister and she had a baby at one time, but someone has the baby held ransom for money, and her husband is in on it somehow because he has an office and people are always coming in, and so we think he´s coniving, and the lovable bull fighter- restaurant owner son-brother who has lost all his bulls and his restaurant in the latest episode, and he loves this girl that his friend ended up sleeping with, and another friend that hid drugs in his restaurant, and that´s why the restaurant burned down, because the police were coming to raid and the chef found the drugs and burned the place down because he didn´t have time to do anything else. And said sister who is actually the sister and not the daughter works in the fashion industry and has aids and her boyfriend has it to, and she has crazy dizzy spells and hasn´t told her family. And then there are more characters and more plots which i won´t go into. So imagine this crazy plot and times the complicatedness by 10 because it is all in Spanish, and the equation equals Herederos.

the Current Events of my life

2008-09-30T02:07:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was rainy and perfect for relaxing. We had plans to go to Cádiz, the oldest city in Europe which also happens to be a beautiful costal town with a beach, but we have postponed our plans to another, more sunny time. My room mate, I, and some friends met up for some rainy day shopping and then we went to the movies and saw Los Girasoles Ciegos (The Blind Sunflowers), a sad but very beautiful tragedy of a family during the Franco era.

Monday I started my new classes, and so far have enjoyed them. There is a festival of nations in town, and Meara (the room mate I´m always writing about) and I went to walk around and look at the booths which sold goods from each nations that was represented. There were a few booths that had witch statues and giant butterflies and magical things. I debated which nation this could have been, but then decided that it was probably a booth from another realm instead.

Last night after my class, I went to sit on a bench in front of this big beautiful fountain in the city, and I watched the pigeons and the mischevious little old men. Cities are prime people watching places, and I have to say that between Meara and I, we have seen some pretty strange things. Yesterday she saw a couple on a street corner go from 1st to 3rd base, what with the traffic driving by and people everywhere! Once we saw a woman in a big dress shirt with a belt cinched around the watse. She must have taken it from her husbands closet. It actually made for a really cute dress, but then the wind blew and the last few 6 inches of the shirt didn´t button, blowing open to reveal her crotch.

Anyhow, last night was a night of triumphs, and when you are functioning in another lanuage, I feel like even the smallest of accomplishments can be celebrated. Like buying stamps and asking the lady behind the counter a question and actually understanding the answer. This was exciting for me. And then my intercambio (my speaking exchange partner) called and we had an entire conversation in Spanish. And then I came home and chatted with my host mother for a little while, and the conversation was actually a realy, functioning conversation.

During dinner, my room mate was trying to expain a recipe for an Apple Crisp to our host mother, and we had no idea what the world for oat meal was. I found oats in the dictionary and then clapped my hands together and went ¨pbbbttt¨ to signify flat, and she looked at me and said rolled oats! It was amazing, my host mother! I laughed out loud right then and there at the rediculousness of my gestuer, and how she just knew. She has been hosting foreigners for more than 20 years now, so I guess she´s pretty used to lame dinnertable conversations about how the carrots are funny here, or whatever the heck her guests have the vocabulary to say. Or when they like the food, then the tortilla is good, the salad is good, everything is good, good, good! What is good is to learn more descriptors. Thank goodness my room mate is a good spanish speaker. She can carry on a really decent conversations with our host mother, and then I join in and am improving.

Allright, time to go see more of the world and less of this computer screen. Love you all, my friends!

Corrida de Torros

2008-09-30T01:12:00.000-07:00

Beautiful architecture inside the Plaza de Torros

Three toreros, or matadors, each parading out with their entourage

Warming up

Waiting for the torro, or bull. Each corrida, or bullfight, has three parts. When the bull first comes into the ring, the matador and his bandarillos gauge the bull with their magenta and gold capes.

Then the bandarillos lead the bull to the picador, who is the one on the horse.

The bull charges the picador, who carries a lance and stabs the bull in the back. This weakens its back and shoulder muscels. The horse wears big protective padding which will not allow the bulls horns to penetrate. The horses also have blinders on and are given tranquilizers, so they are surprisingly calm despite being pushed around by a big bull.

Next, three sets of banderillas are places in the bulls back, further weakening the muscles. This is usually done by the banderillos. I personally think it is one of the most athletic parts of the corrida, because the banderillo runs at the bull, sticks them in and jumps out of the way as the bull is charging him.

Another banderillo at work.

Next comes the part that most people think of when they imagine bull fighting. In this part, the matador uses a muleta, or red cape to draw the bull in a series of passes. The more consecutive passes, the more excited the crowd gets.

This is Pepe. He was the best matador of the evening, and was really able to work the bull.

To kill the bull, the matador stabs the bull in the back with a sword. After he killed the bull, the crowd waved white handkercheif to let the judges know that they thought he had done terrifically.

Pepe is holding the bulls ear, his prize for fighting so well.

About the bull fights

2008-09-28T08:51:00.000-07:00

Hello, everyone! It has been wonderful to hear from you, my family and friends, that you have indeed, been keeping up with my blog. I truly wish that each one of you could be here with me to experience what I am experiencing, and since that is really unfeasible, this is the next best thing. Anyhow, I will catch you up the latest happenings here in Sevilla.

Here I am at the Plaza de Toros in Sevilla.

Corridas, or Bullfighting
First and foremost, I would like to tell you all about my first experience with bullfighting. The Corridas, or bullfights, are the iconic cultural embodiment of Spain. And the touristy shops certainly sell their share of stuffed animal bulls and shot glasses with cartoon bulls, and t-shirts and whatnot. But when you really get down to the actual meat of it (had to say it) it’s really intriguing. To be honest, I had never really given the subject much thought until this summer when I read The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway. The book describes a bullfight, but to be honest, what I mainly got out of the book was how darn stylish it is to gallivant around Europe with a pickled liver and an intense cigarette habit, rambling from bar to bar ostentatiously spending some unknown inheritance on whisky and wine, expensive hotels and weekend trips to other countries. So Ernest didn’t help me much.

The Controversy
Bullfighting is wee bit of a controversial topic to some people. To kill 6 animals in the span of 2 hours for cultural/entertainment/celebratory purposes might seem a little grotesque. However, I think that it is important to see the big picture. I was lucky enough to attend a seminar given by an incredibly interesting American expatriate with an incredible story and a brain full of bull fighting knowledge. I will try my best to give the condensed version here:

Our Speaker
Our speaker was a high school Spanish teacher from California who would yearly take a group of students to Sevilla for a summer study program. When she about my age, she actually had done a study abroad program herself and had seen the running of the bulls in Pamplona, and really hated it. She was horrified at it and really had no desire to see a bull fight after her first experience. When she was older and became a teacher, she would yearly take students to Spain, and there was a shop she loved to go into. It was the shop of an artist, and she started collecting prints by the artist, and really fell in love with his work. After a few years, she finally got a chance to meet the artist, who turns out to be not only an artist, but also a torero, or bullfighter, from the United States, who lived in Spain. Well, wouldn’t you know that they meet, fall in love, and get married. And, through him, she was able to appreciate bull fighting. Her husband was a great bull fighter, a great man, and a wonderful husband, but has since passed away. And now, as a way to keep his memory alive, she has coauthored a book about her husband and also gives seminars to help people understand the history and culture behind bullfighting. And I was one of the lucky people who had the privilege to hear her insight before going to the corridas my first time.

Why it's not so sad
She explained to us that the bullfight is not actually a fight. The word in Spanish is corrida, which translated, does not mean fight. It is actually more of a drama of life. The bull dies, yes, but then its meat is used to help sustain life, and every part of the bull is, indeed, used after it is killed.

So having said that, there are still more reasons not to feel sad at the bull fight. First of all, the bulls have an incredibly good life. Better than most livestock that we raise to eat in the US. (If you think bull fighting is a grotesque violation of animal rights, you should research where your bacon or frozen chicken breast came from, and then seriously re-consider which battle is worth the fight) Second of all, the bull spends no longer than 15 minutes in the bull ring. And it is not a bad 15 minutes, at that. The bull is doing what it naturally does, which is to charge after moving objects. And it gets a lot of satisfaction out of charging the horses, which you’ll see pictures of below. Thirdly, they don’t feel much pain. They have so much adrenaline going, and also, they have such thick hides that they really can’t feel when they are pierced with the banderillas and such. Fourth, it is a fair fight. The toreros, or bullfighters, are risking their lives, and because of this I feel they are a little more justified in their actions.

Thanks for reading... now on to the pictures

These are all of the matadors, picadors, and peons parading out.

More pictures to come!

¡Mas Picturas!

2008-09-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

In Córdoba we visited three places. A palace, a synagogue, and a mosque. These first two pictures are from the palace gardens.

A beautiful courtyard in front of the Mosque in Córdoba.

At an amazing Mosque in Córdoba.

In an ancient Roman Bath. But not bathing.

These were sky lights in the ceiling of the bath house. Our teacher told us that the bath houses were closed later in their history because the Catholic church thought that they were sinful. And so, something was build over the skylights, and now light bulbs light the way.

In the palace patio gardens of Córdoba. Our teacher said that the walkway was raised about 2 feet higher than the trees so that people were able to pick fruit straight from the tree. The Arabs believed that God wanted us to enjoy nature and the beautiful things in the world that He gave us. I like this idea, and so I think I might one day have an orchard with a board walk.

At the palace gardens in Córdoba.

I went with the school on a day trip to Córdoba, and the drive was lovely. I finally got to see the country side. There are olive groves everywhere, and not much else besides scrubby plants and dirt. The olive trees are in these amazing rows and they are all so old and twisted and gnarled and bent over like little old men lined up in rows.

Observation... there are clouds in Europe as well as the US.

More countryside.

Okay, Daddy Bear. This one is for you. Remember how you printed out that big huge list of tapas restuarants in Sevilla? Well, Friday, Sept. 19 was day one of Septembertapafest. Or perhaps falltapafest... why does it only need to last one month? I even tried the noodles like the website recommended, and they were splendidly oiley and garlicy! And then some slow roasted ham, or jamón as they say here.

This is what the restaurant looked like. I don´t know what everyone does here when it rains, butI guess that´s the beauty of living somewhere it only rains about 20 or so inches a year.

The street names are posted on the sides of buildings here. This one `Puerta de la Carne´ literally translated, means `meat door´. Needless to say, I laugh almost every time I pass it.

Touring the Real Alcázar, a palace in Sevilla. A mix of architecture, beginnings with the Moors which as you can see had an Islamic influence, and later other parts were added on to the palace with more Christian gothic design. Like the tiles below (I think).

Probably not the coolest things about this palace, but hey, I love all the tiles!!!

The Gardens in the back of the Real Alcazar, the palace in Sevilla.

There are Orange Trees Planted all over the city, and they are all green right now. I imagine that when they get ripe my nose will go to pieces because it will be so happy. When we first arrived, we foreigners debated about whether they were limes, and about whether we could just pick and eat them. I guess I will just wait and see what everyone else does. (if no one else picks any, I will probably wait till no one is looking)

This is Calle Harinas, where my school is located. It is on the right, a few doors down.

This is a gigantic lady. I am picking her nose.

One of my most favorite things about Spain is the amazing tiles everywhere. They wonderfully detailed and in many rooms tiles cover the entire wall and the floor with outrageously decadent patterns. Sometimes they are more simple. This is a sign that hangs outside of my school, the Center for Cross Cultural Studies.

I forgot to put this picture up with my last post. It was taken in Portugal, where I swam out to this gigantic coquina rock, which is made of up the calcite shells of little sea creatures compacted over time fused into amazing sedimentary rocks. It makes for a mean surface to fall on! Thank goodness I didn´t fall. This is me jumping.

This is a really low quality picture taken from inside my school building on the second floor. In front of you is the banister looking down to the first floor patio, and the door on the very left is where my Clasé de Gramatica is every day.

A couple of Pictures from Galavanting through Portugal and a few other things

2008-09-19T03:54:00.000-07:00

A peach pit at the beach. (doesn´t that have a nice ring?) I seem to find lots here. And, by way, the fruit here is fantastic.

The door to my lovely home! (notice the doorknob resides in the midle of the door)

At what used to be considered the end of the world before beleifs of a flat world were debunked. Also, one of the most fantastic things I have ever seen. Imagine tall creme colored, jagged cliffs dropping directly into the cold Atlantic. Now imagine a working lighthouse backdropped by the most exquisite sunset you have ever seen. Then times it all by 125, and you have the beauty of this evening.

Swordfish in Portual... ¡un regalo del mar!

My wonderful room mate and I, enjoying the beautiful Sevilla.

On the stairs down to the beach.

I am about to find out how cold the water is.

If I were a Portuguese pirate, this would be my ship.

Bocadilla y dedos del piel... un dia perfecta a la playa, or en portuguese, praia.

Beach umbrella suburbia.

A few pictures for you.

2008-09-16T08:24:00.001-07:00

Some pretty flowers near the coast.

One of the most dynamic advertisements I have seen in a long time.

2008-09-16T08:16:00.000-07:00

Friday, September 12, 2008

Hola todos! It is Friday, and I have the satisfaction of having accomplished one week of classes. My mind is swimming with thoughts about what I should tell you. It has only been one week, and it was so filled to the brim, that I don’t know where to begin.

I will begin with today. Today I had to turn in a 230 word description of my topic of choice. The past few days have been so hot that I decided to describe the autumn. It really must have been a love letter, because I think I lured autumn to Sevilla. The day started crisply, and during a 30 minute class break, I went to a café near my school for hot café con leche. Beautiful. The cafes on our cobble stone street have tables and chairs that spill out into the street, and the mopeds whiz by while I drink my coffee. My class is on the second story of our building. Our room has two French doors that open onto the two smallest balconies I have ever seen, only big enough to stand facing forward and peep out onto the street below or the buildings directly across. During class I hear horses pulling carriages clomp down the narrow cobblestone street.

The building itself had a big interior patio with a fountain. All of the hallways above wrap around so you can look down below. We also have an exterior patio, in which I have a dance class.

In this class we are learning the Sevillano, a traditional dance with hints of flamenco that the locals break out during Feria de Abril, a week long fair in the spring. Our teacher said that it can either be danced by two women, and is very elegant and beautiful, or else a man and woman can dance it together, and then it is very sensual.

And I have also found out that during the fall there is a flamenco festival here in Sevilla that only occurs every two years. I am excited for this since I won’t be able to enjoy the festivities that occur in the spring with Semana Santa and Feria de Abril.

As far as every day routines here in Sevilla, I am adjusting just dandily. I remember to throw my TP in the trash can (don’t flush it!!!), I am careful about not leaving lights on, and I am doing just fine without air conditioning, though it can be a little warm. (I’ll admit I have considered riding the tram back and forth through town just to cool off, but have yet to resort to this). I take my allotted 8 minute showers, exactly. (I time myself with a clock). I am used to eating lunch at 3 and dinner at 10. And I know my route and bus numbers by heart from home to school, gradually exploring more and more outside of my little route each day.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Today some friends and I traveled to the Centro Andaluz de Arte Contemporaneo. It was an old Monastery that was converted into an Art museum, and after some exploring, we found rooms with old frescoes on the walls, and also rooms with white marble crypts in them. I’m not sure if tombs are the right word, but they were big marble boxes, and on top of each one there were three statues of people lying down with their arms crossed and eyes closed. I don’t know if mortal remains were enclosed inside. Anyhow, we went to see 2 international photography exhibits. One was called “On the Human Being” and was a collection of numerous artists. My favorite pictures were a set of 100 black and white photographs lined up side by side on the wall. Each one had a person in ascending order from the age of 0-100, and it was so neat to see the progression of life.

This morning classes were cut short for the first of a series of three trips. This morning my group visited Italica, which are ruins of a Roman colony in Spain. I had a hard time understanding all of the history that our teacher guided us through. However, there was an arena in which I gathered thousands of people could have been slaughtered in one day. (probably only that many on a real party day) That was my first time getting to experience ruins like this, and it was amazing to walk down a road which held so much history.

Still in Spain!

2008-09-09T07:04:00.000-07:00

Friday, September 5th

We took a walking tour through the city to our school, which is pretty close to the center of town. The school is a three story building squeezed into a narrow street called Calle Harinas. It is an older building and is completely charming, with a court yard and decorative tiles up the walls and all over the floor.I was entirely charmed by my surroundings until it was time to take the Spanish placement test to assess our skills, and I am afraid the grammar was a little brutal on my poor rusty little brain. Not to mention I realized when the time was up that there were 2 pages I left entirely blank on accident! Oh well... I suppose everyone has to start somewhere, and I hope someone who graded my paper secretly got a laugh at something ridiculous that I unknowingly wrote.

Then it was on to our houses. My room mate and I took a taxi to our house and arrived laden with suitcases. Our taxi driver pointed out a big barbed wire fence that enclosed a Franco Era prison.

Our family consists of a host mother, my room mate and me. I admit that I understood barely anything for the first 2 or three meals we ate together, but Saturday night I actually spoke to her and joined in the conversation some, so already I feel as though I am improving little by little. My room mate speaks spanish fairly well, and so she does the majority of the talking to our mother, and then I join in when I can.

Saturday, September 6th.

Today we went to the Christopher Columbus museum and watched a video that none of my friends or I understood about Christopher Columbus discovering the new world. Except for the part when the actor repeatedly screamed "Land... Land... Land... Land!!!" Then we went outside and saw three wooden ships that were replicas of the nina, the pinta, and the santa maria. They were full sized ships floating in a big pond. The pond was surrounded by grass huts with replicas of naked people with bowl cuts standing around holding spears and cooking fish.

This is me cooking with the natives.

Among other things... please note the fantastic bowl cuts.

Then we toured a monastery that was filled to the brim with artifacts and paintings of Christopher Columbus and all his pals. I saw Cortez's sword in a glass case as well. It was really neat, and the paintings were so large and beautiful, but I wish i had understood more of the tour. Then we went to the beach where it was a little rainy and cloudy and hijacked shells.

Sunday, September 7th

Today we finally unpacked our bags and got to relax. It was really wonderful. Tonight my room mate and I along with Sophie and her room mate went walking in our barrio, which is a nieghborhood. Our is called Nervion. We passed by a bunch of really beautiful apartments and also by a sand park. It looked really nasty and we couldn´t figure out what it could possibly be for except a place for peopel to take their animals to go to the bathroom.

Then we passed a huge wall with graffiti of a guy with worms coming out of his eye sockets... I´ll have to post a picture later.

We went to an little Chinese shop that was like the dollar store but better... and worse at the same time. Lets just say there were these scary gnome statues with lights built into them. And I bought a foam lilly pad with frogs on it for the beginnings of a hat for a haloween costume.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Now that I am NOT in the United States, I have finally heard that song that has caused such a stir. We were in a copy shop buying a photocopied book which I suppose is legal because our teacher told us to go there. Anyhow, ¨I kissed a girl and i liked it¨was playing on the radio and i think my life was better before that song ever had the possibility of replaying itself in my head.

Class was wonderful. I actually understood the things my teacher was saying and i made a list of the things i didn´t understand. And now it is really hot in the computer room and I can write no more... I´ll have to finish catching everyone up later.

P.S. Madonna is coming to Sevilla soon!

Estoy en Espana!!!

2008-09-07T08:01:00.001-07:00

Hola, todos! Bienvanidos y welcome to my blog. This is my first blog, and I look forward to keeping in touch with everyone as I study in Sevilla this semester. So far I have been here 3 days, and so I will catch everyone up with a synopsis of the events leading up to my arrival in Sevilla.

Before Wednesday- pack, pack, pack, say goodbyes, pack.

Wednesday morning 12:00 am
I am double checking my passports and double checking the dates my visa is valid. Good from 1-9-08 until 1-12-08. Wait a second... something fishy. A three day visa that is valid for days that had passed before i even applied for the thing. Just kidding, I think. In Spain it is Day-Month-Year, and so my visa is valid until December 1st. Check. Wait, not check. I'm here until December 17th. Okay... a problem? Perhaps... but as they say "'tis better to have traveled and to be deported than to never have traveled at all." So first thing is first, consult dear Mommy and make sure I shouldn't freak out. After waking her up from sound sleep, she says the verdict is no, and so on with my trip.

Wednesday afternoon 2:00 pm
I said a teary goodbye to mommy and am now walking on nasty tile in my bare feet through the metal detector at the local airport. (I wonder how much microscopic dog crap and vomit linger beneath my toes? Well, at least I get to shower in 30 hours.)

Knoxville to Washington
airline hostess have the coolest dresses... should I change careers?

Washington to Frankfurt
sit next to really awesome older couple named Joy and Jimmy (i think). Jimmy likes to make jokes and they both like to laugh. Frankfurt airport is a labyrinth of dirty people, broken elevators, and my arm pits stink. I follow Joy and Jimmy to our connecting flight, and probably would have been utterly confused otherwise.

Frankfurt to Barcelona
opened my spanish grammar book and pretended to study. My seat mate didn't speak English and so I considered practicing my German with her, but decided against it because I only know how to ask her if she speaks English.
We flew parallel with the coast and it was beautiful.

Barcelona airport.
Talked with 3 Sweedish college students on holiday. They are friends with Jack Daniels from Tennessee, and I like Ikea, so the world is not so big, I don't guess.
I asked them their thoughts on Ikea, and was informed that now instead of picking up girls in discos, this Sweedish decoration and home furniture store is where they go, and it's "the shit."

Barcelona to ... where the heck am I?
So, getting into a Spanair airplane was not quite the death trap I thought it might be, considering their recent fiasco with over 150 deaths in Madrid. My only complaint is that their intercom system sucks, which is certainly the lesser of two evils.
During the flight the voice warbled in unintelligible Spanish and English, saying something about the airport esta cerrado... closed? Couldn't be. My spanish comprehension skills must be terrible. Alas, they were reaffirmed when we turned a full circle in the middle of our flight and landed in Jerez, a tiny airport in the middle of a bunch of dirt farms. We waited for 2 1/2 hours not being entirely sure what was going on, and finally a bus came to take us to Sevilla.

David Brooks Conclusion

2008-04-14T17:40:00.000-07:00

David Brooks was a very interesting, witty and fun speaker. He had some great insight, and some different and refreshing viewpoints. I have to admit that I thought coming from New York as such a well known columnist, I expected someone a little more stuck up, but he seems like a very positive, down to earth and intelligent guy. All in all, a great speaker. I hope to someday read his books for more insight into his thoughts.

2008-04-10T14:37:00.003-07:00

How does he account for the hatred toward hilary Clinton?

Goes back to 60s, people see her as a feminist liberal.

See does see politics as war. There are enemies and you have to fight those people. In her disciplined way she made an effort to reach out to republicans, and now they think highly of her.

2008-04-10T14:37:00.001-07:00

He says if he is on TV he will shoot his mouth off but somehow still feels print is more responsible.

2008-04-10T14:36:00.002-07:00

How he deals with criticism?

For the first six months he had to learn how to deal with being hated on a large scale, with thousands of emails basically saying he sucks. Now he doesn’t mind being hated. He says it’s part of the sport of discussion, and makes an analogy to sports talk radio.

2008-04-10T14:36:00.001-07:00

Would McCain just be a follow up to Bush's foreign policy?
Brooks responds that McCain's strength is foreign policy, and that he's given a very different speach on foreign policy. Brooks says that McCain would have been better for the job than Bush in Iraq.

2008-04-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

On McCain.

He says that McCain is a fun man to be with.
He says McCain "just can't control himself" because he's so honest, and mentions that McCain's honesty even flows over into his opinions of others. He tells a humorous story that once he was in an elevator with McCain, and some one walked out and McCain pointed to the man and called him “fing ahole.”
Among McCain's flaws, he says that he is disorganized, and lives like a fighter pilot flying by the seat of his pants.

2008-04-10T14:25:00.001-07:00

On the protests in China.

He says that in China, those who make the top 1 percent of SAT scores are able to go to college. The top 1 percent of those work in government jobs. Brooks used to report on Russian politics, and says that the Chinese regime is very different because the government is comprised of very intelligent people, and not thugs. But on the protests, it's good to give the government a hard time.

2008-04-10T13:58:00.000-07:00

Brooks fields a question about his opinions on the ethics of blogging verses traditional journalism.
He says that the line is increasingly fuzzy between blogging and traditional journalism. Now blogging is a part of the American conversation that just happens online.

People put more effort on books, and therefore readers remember more about books. The medium determines how long the information will stay around and how much people remember.

2008-04-10T13:50:00.000-07:00

On American Culture

Are american’s really corrupted by all the material wealth they have? He says no. He says that suburbanization is not a shallow, materialistic thing. He says those people go to church and behave in very holistic ways. They have low divorce rates. College students are very busy and work hard. He talks about the incredible level of community service by college students. He says that our generation has grown up as one of the most supervised, and has spent a lot of time in structured adult activities. He remains a Walt Disney optimist about American culture. And says that he finds our generation very unsarcastic, willing to volunteer, and talks about how so many college students go to Africa to volunteer.

2008-04-10T13:33:00.000-07:00

David Brooks starts out lightly, showing an easy going personality. About journalism, he says, "It's a complicated profession. If you're thinking about going in to it, all i can say is- Suckers!”

2008-04-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

David Brooks, op-ed columnist for the New York Times, is here at Berry College today speaking as a part of the Gloria Shatto Lecture Series. Right now we are in the Science Building for a question and answer session, and tonight he will be speaking in the College Chapel at 7:30 pm.

Bienvendia and Welcome!

2008-04-07T06:42:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Avispa en mi Coronilla, a blog of thoughts from my head to yours.