"¿Qué quieres comer para tu último almuerzo?"

"What do you want to eat for your last lunch?"

The wifi is down, as usual, so I'm sitting in the hall where the cable is. My new host mom Ana Maria poked her head out of the kitchen to ask what I want for lunch on Saturday, my last day here. Everything. Really what I want every day for the rest of my life is tortilla española, but that's not the point.

I don't want to go back and redo anything, and I'm grateful for that. I'm really happy with how my semester went. There were a few things I wanted to do but couldn't because of either time or money, but if I'd done those things, valuable or not, I wouldn't have done what I did, which is more valuable. That said, if I could change something, I wouldn't have gotten sick. Just as my cough was FINALLY going away I got hit by this dumb strep/cold thing and I've been out of commission all week. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last week, but it's better to have spent all semester running around outside and being inside the last week, than to have stayed inside all day, every day and suddenly realize it's my last week here. That's how some people are feeling right now.

One more exam, a goodbye party tomorrow night, and all the tapas I can squeeze into my mouth.

Me and my padre!
Don't be fooled, he's quite jolly normally.

El espectáculo de flamenco

The flamenco show

Yesterday was our much-anticipated flamenco show! I was really nervous but it ended up being a lot of fun. A whole semester of practicing turned into a routine that lasted about three minutes, but that's good because my friends in the audience didn't get bored. The padres were all invited, and our professors too, but mine arrived just after we finished. Things are wrapping up....

My class in the opening stomps

Don't worry, Mom! Here's one of me

La ciudad, le encanto

The city, she loves me

At least some of you I'm sure know the Red Hot Chili Peppers' song "Under the Bridge". It's about loving a city. I'm lucky, because I have two cities who love me. Granada's sunshiney plazas are holding my hands, the cathedral is laughing with me when a creeper is creeping. Sometimes when my human friends get a little bit too overwhelming, I can sit with Granada and she makes me feel better. It sounds silly, I know, but I'm not the first person to fall in love with a city.

I have a favorite nut vendor. His stall is right next to my favorite fruit vendor. Actually I think it's just different sides of the same stand. Anyway I went to the nut vendor today and surveyed his wares, but he didn't quite have what I wanted. He said, "Tell me everything you like," so I said salted peanuts, corn nuts, raisins, etc., and he started grabbing things and made me my own trail mix, a little salty and a little sweet. He only charged me two euro for the huge bag, when it should have been between 5 and 7. (I love you, New York, but you're not nearly as kind as Granada).

Today was the last day of classes. How weird is that? It doesn't feel like a semester has really gone by. Spain is still like Narnia to me. It's magic and strange, and time in the real world doesn't move when I'm here. Three weeks ago I was surprised to realize it wasn't still winter in the states. It doesn't at all feel like I just finished my junior year.

Padres nuevos

New padres

We call our Spanish host parents our padres to differentiate them from our real parents. But that's what they are: parents. Anabel left for Vienna yesterday. I miss her. I liked our routine. Her parents are here now and everything is different. It's hard to get used to, I don't know what is appropriate or anything like that. Also the food is different, I have to keep a smile on those adorable little faces.

My mom (my real mom) said I'm a stubborn eater. If I decided I don't like something, I won't eat it. Even if I'm hungry. Even if everyone else says it tastes delicious and it's starting to smell good. No matter what, I wouldn't eat it. Now I don't know whether I've just opened myself to more foods, or whether it's something about these cute little old Spanish people, but I've turned that stubbornness onto myself, for better or worse. So now, when she points to the blood sausage, I pick up a piece of black, spongy meat. And even though I'd rather let a spider crawl up my hand than eat it, I stick it in my mouth and chew. And I look right in her eyes and smile. (Don't ask me what it tasted like, I don't think my tongue touched it, and even if it had, I was concentrating too hard on not thinking about the ingredients).

There are only three weeks left. Two weeks of classes. I can do all the work I still need to do, I can be late for class because I have to stay in and eat breakfast. I hope the rain stops so I can enjoy the last of my time here. I hope the British Airways strike gets resolved before I have to fly back to New York, and that damn volcano shuts up. On the bright side, my cough is almost gone!

A todo el mundo le gusta London, pero no Paris. A algunos les gusta Paris.

Everybody likes London, but not everybody likes Paris.

I got back from Paris last night! I went with four other friends and we stayed in a hostel in Montemarte and had a great time. We saw lots and lots of things, had some frustrations of all sorts, and got glared at by French people in restaurants. Such fun!

On Friday we went to the Lourve. I've been waiting and waiting for years to go to the Lourve. I don't know how to say this, but honestly, I didn't like it. I guess the main problem was that it's just too big. Needless to say, there are some spectacular things in there, things that made me stop midstep and stare and forget to breathe. But between those things are miles of things I don't want to see but have to hike past.

More problems:
1) Many of the good things, like Ingres' Grande Odalisque and David's Oath of the Horatii, are not listed on the map and I found them completely by accident.
2) Of the things that are listed, the key to finding them is so confusing I spent more than half an hour wandering between two rooms looking for the Venus de Milo when in fact it is in another wing.
3) An entire wing of the Lourve is listed "Paintings."
4) Do not even talk to me about the nightmare of procuring tickets. Worse than you could imagine. Worse still, they ended up being free for some absurd reason only French people would know about.

And compare all this to the heaven-on-earth that is the Musée d'Orsay. We got in free by flashing our student visas (so satisfying) and grab the completely legible map and immediately discover that not only is Manet's Olympia there, so is Renoir's Moulin de la Galette. I was nearly in tears. We walked through room after room of paintings I've studied and written term papers about, favorite paintings that flitted through the screensaver on my old computer, paintings that started revolutions. Everything I could have wanted to see was there. More than once I was standing with one of my friends, telling (boring? I hope not) her about a painting that related to this one because of x y z and I turn my head and gasp, because there is the very painting I was talking about! And the two are together! The most exciting comparison for me was that Olympia was there, and so was the (well-painted but slightly boring and expected) painting that won the Salon the same year Olympia was submitted, and caused such a scandal. To see the two of them together, to see Olympia's fierceness and power next to the languid, silly Venus, was incredible.

I was surprised that all buildings in Paris are roughly the same sandy color. It adds to the elegance. In Granada, in my neighborhood, every building is a different color, citrusy and gemlike. For some reason even though I considered this comparison while in Paris, I didn't think to take any pictures. In fact, I didn't take very many pictures at all. Sorry. You know, I'll just have to go back.

On our last morning, we ventured into a tourist shop to get some knickknacks that say Paris on them, and were surprised to find... whole sections of the store devoted to I ♥ London merchandise. Why? We're chuckling about a plastic I ♥ London beer mug when the store owner comes up and tells us it's a very good beer mug.
-"But...we're in Paris," we point out.
-"Yes," he says, "but everybody likes London."
-"Well, that's true, I suppose. But doesn't everybody love Paris too?"
-"Yes, Paris is good. But everybody likes London. Not everybody likes Paris."
I can think of another city everybody likes best and I'm not about to let it get overshadowed by these low-buildinged villages, and this situation is obviously beyond sense, so I ask where the New York goodies are.
-"Ah. New York is very far away," says the guy, "But you are right. Everybody likes New York. I will show you my New York things." ...And starts leading me to the other side of the store.
-"No...that's okay... I really like Paris."

Liz, Alex, Michelle and me in front of some monument or whatever. :) Yay Paris!

(This is Amanda's picture. Thanks, Amanda!)

Hace mucho tiempo

It's been a while

Sorry everyone! Things have been moving so quickly with visits from my parents and trips and piles of projects, on top of being endlessly sick with a bad cough. Some summaries of the last few weeks:

Africa was amazing! I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that we were actually IN AFRICA. We rode camels along the other side of the Atlantic (I waved at you all!). We went to an Arab bath and had our skin rubbed off. Every meal I was sure was the best thing I'd ever eaten. We stayed with host families in Rabat, and our host mom dressed us up in all her fine robes...for an hour. We had lunch with a family in a village in the Rif mountains with the cutest little boy on the planet. It's only a matter of time before Angelina Jolie finds him. I spent the whole four days gazing around open-mouthed because everything was so beautiful and colorful and so different from anything I've seen before. I've thought things in Spain seemed third-world sometimes, like when I find the entire spine of a pig in the street, or the fact the Granada is crawling with stray cats and dogs, but seeing these things in Morocco, to a much greater degree, was really shocking to me. Kids were playing soccer with a dead rat, there was a cat giving birth under a shoe stand, and the highways were lined with donkeys and sheep and skinny horses. In America we always hear about how lucky we are to have shoes and running water and basic luxuries we take for granted. I believe(d) it, but I had sorted it to the file in my mind of things I know, logically, are true, but don't ever think about as reality. I don't know if that makes sense. And I wasn't even in a very poor or rural part of Africa. It's taken me a few weeks to process the experience and I think (I hope) I take it with me for a long time.

Amanda, Liz, and I in our host mom's gowns.
There are more than 120 of these pictures. Niiice.

Camels on the other side of the Atlantic!
Look at the baby one!

Just a few days after we got back home, my mommy arrived in Granada!! Despite the volcano, which had me worried for a little while. It was so nice to see her and share this city with her. We went to a great fondue place in the Albaicin and watched the sky darken around the Alhambra as the flood lights came up around the base. Moms are the best.

In the Alhambra

And then the next day my dad flew in and we wandered around Granada. We did little watercolors and ate more delicious food, and then off to Madrid for a weekend of art. Unfortunately we were both a little under the weather so we spent a lot of time in the hotel. I'm so glad I'm in Granada instead of Madrid. It was so nice to see him, I wish I got to spend more time with both my parents.

Statue of Don Quixote in Madrid

The whole time I've been coughing. I haven't been able to run because I'd have to stop every few feet, so I've been feeling so restless and antsy. I hope it goes away by the time I go to PARIS on Thursday!

As the end sneaks closer I'm finding myself so torn between wanting to go back to the states and wanting to stay in Granada forever. I'm trying to appreciate every second I have here, knowing I'll be in Lancaster all summer and all next year, missing Granada. I don't have to wish to be there because I will be, before I know it.

La fruta y otras adventuras

Fruit and other adventures

Every day I walk past a fruit stand on my way to class to buy plums or tangerines or strawberries or all three. The plums are my favorites, they're so juicy and sweet and warm from basking in the sun, mmm. The last few days none of my usual fruit stands has had a single plum! I've been late to class already twice this week (and it's Tuesday) because I had to check every fruit stand vaguely on my way. Well, it's better than eating chocolate pastries every day and being late because you can't walk any faster.

Amanda and I ate dinner at a sushi restaurant last night. Apparently the chef is actually Japanese and serves Japanese food, unlike the Chinese restaurant we've been going to where second-generation Chinese immigrants serve Spanish food with soy sauce. Anyway in the past we've gone to the sushi restaurant for tapas and didn't realize you have to sit in a different place (a different floor, even) for dinner, where you don't get tapas. So we're sitting in their basement, waiting for our tapas, when we finally ask the waitress and she says tapas are upstairs only so we left our table and went upstairs. There was a fuss and people were confused and it was challenging, to say the least, to communicate anything in Spanish when neither party really speaks Spanish. It was worth it for the food.

Early Thursday morning we leave for Morocco! We'll be traveling around in Rabat and the desert and getting henna and massages. I'm really excited to bust out my rudimentary Arabic skillz--"Hello. I like chicken shawarma and Fanta. Thank god!" This is how I will order food. In China you got free goodies from vendors when you made the effort to speak (read: maul) their language. I hope it will be the same in Morocco. Also I can't wait to eat things there. We have to be careful with water of course, but we can drink tea and eat couscous and all that, oh it's going to be so flavorful and delicious. Yum yum yum.

Looking over my calendar, there are only a few weeks left here. I still don't have concrete (or even hazy, for that matter) plans for the summer. I guess if I need to I can live in my apartment in Lancaster and volunteer at the museum on campus, babysitting and/or waitressing at night. What fun. It could be a lot worse though, at least I'll be with Chelsea and get to see most of my friends all the time, and have my own kitchen. Anabel said she'd give me some Spanish recipes, and I'm so excited to make cookies and soup again. I guess the only thing I can do is stay positive. It'll be a good summer either way!!

This entire entry has been about food. That will change right now: I'm FINE, by the way. Not that any of you know, but there was an earthquake in Granada on Monday. No one really felt it here, though apparently they felt it in Cádiz and Málaga, which is weird because they're to the west and the epicenter was a little to the east. There's some worry about aftershocks for the next week, but I will be in Morocco and, it being Spain, no one is particularly stressed about it. Anyway if you do hear about it, I'm fine. Everything is fine.

That's all then, next time I post I will have some African adventures to share and wonderful, colorful pictures of absolutely everything. Can't wait!

Viajes desde España

Trips from Spain

Last week was Semana Santa, the holy week before Easter. Granada is supposed to have one of the best celebrations in Europe, with parades every day and fantastic floats, but we don't have housing in Spain for that week (or class!) so everybody goes and travels around Europe. I went to London for my birthday and then met up with friends in Venice. There were some airport and hostel debacles, but I survived and didn't even have to spend the night in a street or airport, which at multiple points was a very real possibility.

London was wonderful. I stayed with Susie from camp and her fun roommates in their dilapidated Greenwich apartment. Mike flew over too! It was rainy and a bit cold and all money was spent on transportation, but it was so much fun just to walk around with people I miss terribly. And we had cake.

It also rained in Venice. I think the rain has been following me this year. But we had fun nonetheless, visited every church on the map, and explored the canals. We were two history majors and an art history major, so we nerded out and compared theories, and scoffed at tour guides and the like. Since going to Italy with my parents in 2001, I've really wanted to see inside of San Marco and the Doge's Palace and I FINALLY got to do it! Unfortunately both were under construction, so I'll have to go back in another ten years and see them in all their grandeur. Hopefully Venice won't have sunk by then. The walls of San Marco were already sagging. Anyway, arguably the best part of Venice was the pizzerias and gelaterias Mary recommended. We ate pizza on a dock over the lagoon. It was so nice to just sit and BE in Venice, to hear the water and the rapid Italian, smelling the dirty canals and all the incredible food around us. And the pizza itself was of course unbelievably delicious. Things you can't Google.

I'm back in Granada now and I missed it. I chose the two most expensive places I could have gone and it's so refreshing now to be back where things are cheap and free and still so tasty. And of course to see my friends again! Every weekend now until I go back to the states is booked. That's such a scary thought. I never want to leave....

Birthday cake in Susie's favorite pub in London!
You have to cross a rickety bridge over a marina to get there.

The balcony on San Marco with Alex and Michelle.

Pizza and wine on the lagoon! What could be better?

The colors in Venice were so beautiful. The canals are polluted but still so blue and inviting....

El fin de exámenes, y más importante, ¡GALLETAS!

The end of exams, and more importantly, COOKIES!

Good news all around! I had my last midterm today, which was easy for me only because it was for my major. I think that exam would have been really difficult for me if I hadn't already taken an Islamic art course. Tomorrow I have Arabic in the morning, and on Friday I fly to London for my birthday, and then I'm off to Venice! Now that I'm not studying and miserable I'm so excited for the next week.

My wonderful mommy sent me a package with treasures like peanut butter and chocolate chip cookie mix. I didn't realize just how American these things are. Anabel loves chocolate chip cookies but had never made them the right way, which of course involves eating a bit of the raw dough and then licking the bowl ("lamando el ból"). She was horrified at first when I stuck my finger into the dough, but she really liked it! She was so impressed by how easy American cooking is. I said we don't usually cook like that, it's for overworked moms and cooking with kids, but she was impressed that we even had the option. Also it was really nice to just hang out with her and have fun. Usually we're eating lunch and watching the news, and I was glad to finally bond a little bit more. Actually they should be just about ready now so I'm gonna go eat some fresh-baked, all-American gooey goodness. Love to you all!

Embrujo de la Alhambra

The magic of the Alhambra

Note: this is also the name of a delicious tea they sell here.

Yesterday for our visita de arte y arquitectura, we went to the Alhambra. More specifically, we went to the part of the Alhambra that is not open to tourists. The Alhambra is a 1000-year-old Islamic fortress, perfectly situated. It was never taken by force (the Muslims surrendered to Isabel and Ferdinand) because it was so ideally located and reinforced. However, much of it was destroyed by French bombs. It was rebuilt in the 1920s or so in what the architects of the time thought was the ultimate Islamic palace. It's romanticized and basically made-up. It's not old, it's not accurate, it's just not real. (It is, however, beautiful). BUT. The French didn't destroy everything. Some of the original building remains, but it's not open to the public.

I took about a hundred pictures, but close to zero notes because I spent the whole three hours gazing around with my mouth open. Some highlights:

This is the Alcazar, the old military compound. The right side had houses for generals and higher-ups, the left was storehouses and armories.

This is the oldest part of the Alhambra. It's over 1000 years old. It was the entrance to a palace that stood here before the Alhambra was built (though the original palace was also named Alhambra, which means Red Castle).

The original main path up the mountain. It was patrolled at all times. This door was for civilians and visitors; soldiers used a door in the back, which is still used. This one is being excavated. When it was occupied, the mountain was stripped of trees and bushes so no one could hide there.

Islamic ideas of paradise feel pretty similar to my own.

Some of the last remaining original Islamic paintings. In its prime the whole building was painted (cheaper than 3D decorations. Still gaudy, but less durable). Anyway in this teeny tiny tower on the lower floor are the only original wall paintings that have survived. And on the floor above...

...is my favorite room. The walls were covered in 17th century Christian paintings, mostly depicting the Battle of Tunis. There were also birds and flowers and putti and every beautiful thing. They haven't been restored or fussed with, so the paint's a bit faded and there's graffiti scratched in everywhere. But I didn't really mind, because the dates were years like 1908, 1843, 1786, 1708!! I tried to take lots of pictures but the room was too small for the amount of people in there (my class of 15 or so) and we couldn't use flash. This panel was my favorite because of the boats, of course, and the blue blue blue, but I also loved the birds and flowers. Ah! I never wanted to leave.

Alas, I had to, and now the sun is out and the weekend is here, and I'm on to other beautiful things.

Bib Rambla

Bib Rambla

Another beautiful day sunny Spain, so I decided to read for my independent study in Plaza Bib Rambla, which is near where I live and consequently near the cathedral. The plaza has been in use for nearly 1000 years as a bazaar and site for religious and social festivals. And I'm sitting there reading about it. Today it is a touristy place filled with cafes and restaurants and murky Arabic tourist shops with names like "La Medina" and "Espiritu de la Alhambra." It is also the home of the best churros y chocolate restaurant in Granada, and a nice place to sit in the sun if you don't mind solicitors, children, and pigeons. While I was reading, some hippies came near me and set up with their instruments and played Arabic music. The more things change....

Por fin, sol, y la empieza de una fin de semana loca

Finally, sun, and the start of a crazy weekend

Sun in Granada today! Blues skies and ice cream. I went for a run today, my first in a while because I slipped and hurt my knee a few days ago. It felt good to put weight on it again and feel (relatively) solid. I pass so many beautiful things on my runs and my walks to class. Actually the whole city is breathtakingly beautiful. After being in the rain for so long, I'm walking the same streets and I can look up for the first time, and I see statues and balconies and windows and rooftop gardens spilling down 19th century facades.

This weekend is packed. Tomorrow I'm going to a movie screening in the morning, straight to the mountain to go hiking, and from there going straight to my friend's roommate's birthday party. Saturday I'll be in Cordoba all day, and Sunday depending on the weather we might be going to the beach, followed by Club Granada's soccer match! (I don't care if they are the worst team in Spain, I'll support Granada no matter what).

¡TENEMOS PERRITO!

WE HAVE A PUPPY!

Today Anabel and I are puppysitting a French bulldog-looking puppy named Barton! He's very cute, but not very well trained. He bites everything. His special favorites: my boots, my sleeves, paper. Not nearly so favored: his pelota (ball). Furthermore, he doesn't understand my accent so I can't tell him to sit or be quiet or anything. But he's cute nonetheless. The best way to "play" with him seems to be to let him chew on the toe of my boot, which is what's happening now.

Barton loves me (as a snack)

What fun we have.

I went to mass today in the chapel of the cathedral, which is how I'm planning to do research there without paying. I wasn't very impressed with the chapel. The priest's microphone echoed too much and the recorded organ didn't help matters. The stained glass windows were scattered haphazardly and the colors they chose were too garish for the murky light. And the prayer candles were electric. Get it together, Spain. Next Sunday I'm planning to go to the main part of the cathedral, which is supposed to be a better (but longer) sermon. It'll be worth it to see the real interior.

More things. I came out of my room this morning to find Anabel watching Scooby Doo!!! So exciting. So we watched that for a while, after which came Bob Esponja (Spongebob!!) which was great. Spongebob is funnier in Spanish mostly because of the names. Bob Esponja, Patricio, Calamado....I couldn't catch Mr. Crab's equivalent. The theme song was in Spanish too! "Aaaaaa, ¿quien viva en piña abajo del mar? ¡Bob esponja!" The voices are also hilarious. Most Spanish dubs have really manly and excited voices (imagine a cheap, late-night ad in the states) and to hear the goofy, wobbly voices of Bob Esponja and Patricio was a surprise.

Dessert today was fresh, homemade magdalenas with blueberry jam, a fresh strawberry, and a pinch of brown sugar in a delicious little pile. Beat that.

La crema de cacahuete

Peanut butter

They don't really do peanut butter in Spain. They sell one kind at the marcadona (the big supermarket) but it's very small and four euro and my friend Alex, who bought it anyway, says it's dry and not very delicious at all. Anabel went to California a year or so ago and was amazed at how much peanut butter Americans eat. The woman she was staying with had kids who ate peanut butter in some form for every meal and then dessert. And for snack they ate it out of the jar with a spoon. She told me this incredulously, expecting me to be shocked and ashamed of my countrymen, but I can relate to this. Maybe not breakfast, but everything else. PBJ for lunch with a Reeses, then pasta with peanut sauce for dinner and for dessert, peanut butter chip cookies. Yum yum yum. She didn't try peanut butter in the states, but she tried and loved chocolate chip cookies, which you also can't find in Spain. Now that she said that I'm going to be craving them.

I eat a lot more vegetables here. At first it was because I didn't want to be rude to Anabel, but I've started to enjoy them more and even order them for tapas. Katie will be surprised, I willingly ordered, ate, and enjoyed a zucchini...twice. I haven't warmed to mushrooms yet (they're slimy in every country) but I've cautiously widened my food horizons to include tomatoes, potatoes, onions, zucchini, and squash. Only in certain situations of course. I still don't want a tomato on my sandwich.

I miss peanut butter, but Mike has promised to bring me a jar when he visits. I miss steak, but I miss steak at school anyway. I can get chocolate on or in pretty much anything I could imagine here, so that's not a problem either. The food here is above and beyond anything I had expected. I prefer the meal schedule here to my stateside meal schedule. Even when it's rainy and grey, I love Granada.

Primavera está aquí, con sol y viento

Spring is here, with sun and wind

That's right, it was 80° in Granada yesterday. I spent as much time outside as I could. The sky was so bright blue with clean fluffy clouds. Balloon vendors came out in droves with crazy shaped balloons (I especially want the unicorn-pegasus one, but Anabel said it was not normal in Spain for 20-yr-old girls to carry balloons. Which explains why they are the only vendors who don't approach me, but not why I want one so much). The heladerías opened too! Each ice cream flavor has its corresponding elaborately carved fruit. There was a chocolate picante flavor, with peppers on top. There was chocolate y naranja, with chocolate-drizzled oranges carved to look like flowers. I plan on tasting every one, except banana of course. Into the afternoon the wind from the Sierra Nevadas picked up and skirts went flying, to say the least.

Sarah from ALC 2008 is here! She's visiting from England for a week. She called me from Málaga and after we hung up I turned to Liz and said "God, she sounds so English!" We picked her up at her hostel and she said "God, you sound so American!" When I speak to English people in bars, I sometimes have more trouble understanding their accent than rapid Spanish. She's so impressed by how cheap Granada is. That's because it's the best place in the world. We're going to do every fun thing this week.

Monday is a regional holiday in Andalucía, the day they became an official region of Spain or something. No Spaniards seem to know. The actual holiday is Sunday, but Monday is a day off because otherwise we wouldn't get a day off. Oh, Spain. I wish the US worked like that. 4th of July on a weekend is the worst luck ever.

I have a bit of a snuffly cold but I feel fine. All is well because Anabel is making paella and Sarah is coming over in an hour. Today is only about 55° but we're going to spend it outside anyway. (Friends in the Northeast, just let that sink in for a moment... into the snow!)

"Y ahora tienes que bailar...no, ese fue un chiste"

"And now you have to dance... no, that was a joke."

A lot of news! This weekend we went to Carnaval in Cádiz. My friends and I dressed as a rainbow (arco iris) with one Native American, one gremlin creature, and one bellydancer. It would have been a great time except that it started pouring rain around midnight and we had nowhere to go until 6:30am, when our bus left. So we huddled under umbrellas in the freezing rain for two hours, wondering if we would ever be warm again.

(Here we are still dry).

I spoke today to the director of my program and the advisor for my independent study. I said it would probably more beneficial to study the evolution of the cathedral from a mosque to what it is today, and the political and social tensions that went into its design. As I'm talking about this (in Spanish, because she doesn't speak English) she whips out a 17th century map of Granada and suggests that I cover similar changes in the city as well. That might be too wide for me to study in one semester (and for only one credit). I'll be giving a presentation in Spanish to my art and architecture class, writing a paper (hopefully in English, but we'll see), and possibly giving a presentation next year at F&M as well. Daunting, but the good news is that I'm in control of what I study, which means I only look at the parts that truly interest me. I'm already so enamored with this cathedral that I'll welcome any excuse to talk about it.

En la Alhambra, sin camera

In the Alhambra, without a camera

Surprise! Today our profesora de arte y arquitectura islámica took us to the Alhambra. In the rain. I cleverly wore heels. We hiked up a steep alley, which led to an old stone door to the woods. There was a cobbled path lined with moss and designated stream areas on both sides. Up at the top of the hill was the beautiful Alhambra, where I will be doing much of my homework once it gets warm. The courtyards are free. Today we only visited the museum, which was small and crowded, but we have many more visits planned. And I will have to get into the habit of taking my camera with me wherever I go.

On the way back, Liz, Amanda and I ducked into a cafe to escape the rain and ease our (or only my) feet. By the time we left, the sun had come out! I don't think I've seen it in days! The residual water on the cathedral roof comes down out of gargoyles, like medieval waterfalls. The spice vendors were back, too! It's so nice to see you again, sunny Granada.

"Uno de los días más frío del año"

"One of the coldest days of the year"

Yeah, yeah. You have three feet of snow and no electricity or whatever. It's slushing here and the city has shut down. Anabel came home looking like she'd been in the Arctic, squealing about the snow. And I have to say, I don't like it. I can't do anything outside because it's so cold and wet and all I brought was a light abrigo (coat). Furthermore, I can barely even walk outside because the streets are so slick. I've been observing out the window and only three miserable people have been in sight in the last seven minutes. They are super bundled and have umbrellas. I'm glad I'm not going to Cadíz this weekend. When I go next weekend it's supposed to be almost 60! (Right now it's about 40.)

We just finished lunch. I'm not a big fish person but I eat and, for the most part, enjoy everything Anabel makes for me. We had salad with fish and bits of toast with fish and then she brought out a plate of raw tuna and cream cheese. I was about to draw the line, especially when she said it was our dessert.... I asked fearfully if it was fish and she said "What kind of fish looks like that?!" I explained about sushi and raw tuna...and she laughed at me. It was not tuna, it was a delicious mashed-up jammy kind of fruit that doesn't seem to have an English equivalent. And it wasn't cream cheese ("queso de philadelphia," they so amusingly call it), it was sweet cream. Crisis averted. Don't worry, I'll be coming home with a bagful of this mystery fruit.

El festival gitano en domingo y mis clases primeras

The gypsy festival on Sunday and my first classes

On Sunday morning, Liz, Pepe and I walked about an hour to Sacromonte, the ancient gypsy neighborhood, for the Festival of St Cecilia or something like that. We walked well into the hills, out of sight of the city and on the other side of the valley we could see doors on the mountainside that led to gypsy caves. There was loud flamenco music and professional flamenco dancers, paella, balloons, and free food. Always up for free food, especially what appeared to be gigantic green beans (but were not), we waited in an endless line until finally we arrived at the food tent. The first gypsy handed us a big paper bag with a handful of the huge beans inside. The second gypsy threw in a chunk of cod. Not wrapped, not cooked, just a hunk of salted fish. The third and final food tent gypsy tossed in a big loaf of gypsy bread, which is circular and salty and delicious.

Liz with the bread, me with the cod, and Alex with the fake green bean!

In the distance you can see the cathedral near my house, which I have come to think of as "my cathedral."

I tried to upload this picture a few days ago but for some reason I couldn't. This is a huge (~300') bridge in Ronda. We couldn't even see the bottom! The first bridge was but in eight months but fell after a few years, killing a bunch of people. The next one (this one) was built in the 18th century and took more than 30 years. They weren't taking any chances. The teensy window you see in the middle (actually quite large) is the window into the prison.

Yesterday was my first day of classes! Arabic is really difficult, but so far I can already say "I am Ferry. My country is America. My city is New York. I am a student. I am not married." I am putting together an independent study of Islamic tile patterns. My Islamic art and architecture professor here has offered to be my adviser. This will be really exciting if it works out!!

Algunos fotos de Sevilla y Ronda

Alex and Vicki descending the tower. It's a ramp, not stairs, so the Imam could ride his horse up there to make the call to prayer. I wouldn't.

The cathedral in Seville (like most other Spanish cathedrals, it used to be a mosque)

Royal gardens, filled with citrus trees.
I think it was about 15 degrees in Lancaster when I took this picture. :)

This is a Christian building. How you can tell: square doorways, Latin inscriptions

The main garden. Each wall has a different tile pattern.

It won't let me upload any more right now! I will do more later, but now I have to go to a festival in the gypsy neighborhood.

La guía española

The Spanish guide

Home sweet Granada! We went to Ronda and Seville this weekend and the lasting impression was that we are all SO HAPPY to be in Granada. For one thing, you have to pay for tapas in other cities. Seville was not as pretty (though the cathedral, the third largest in the world, was beautiful) and the men were much more forward, even by Spanish standards. And Ronda, also beautiful, was perched on a hill and it would be exhausting to get anywhere. I took about 100 pictures of old medieval and Arabic doors. Ronda is most famous for having the oldest extant bull ring in Spain and an epic bridge. We were split up into groups based on our Arabic art classes. Our professor doesn't speak English at all. So we took a tour of two cities and their monuments and understood the whole thing! We even got her jokes! Granted, she was speaking slowly, but I'm still feeling pretty proud of myself.

More stories and pictures to come, but I'm pressed for time now.

Miraculously my ipod survived six hours of bus rides. I slept. Coming into Granada I emerged from my nest of coats and right out my window was my old friend Orion! I told him to make sure that he says hey from me when he sees you tonight.

Pocas cosas raras

Some strange things

I think I've adjusted fairly well to a Spanish lifestyle. My friends have had trouble getting used to the eating schedule, but it's when I eat anyway: optional breakfast at 0900, snack at 1200, lunch at 1400, and dinner at 2200. I thought I would have problems finding food I like, but so far things are delicious! Even things Anabel makes for me, which I never would have tasted at home, I really enjoy! I tried chorizo at home and wasn't impressed, but here it's SO GOOD. I have a bocadillo (sandwich) of fancy French bread (1 euro for three!) with chorizo y queso every night before I go out. It takes a great deal of self control to walk past the panerías (bakeries for bread) and pastelerías (bakeries for croissants and neopolitanas and other delicious baked goods) both of which there are very, very many.

And I love the idea of siesta. Everything stops for an hour or so. It's just right for collecting thoughts, taking a break, bocadillos, everything. I'm going to keep having siesta when I go home.

Things I have not adjusted to yet:
- Figuring out what time it is when everything is in military time. Every night I think 2000 is 10pm but it's not. It's 8pm. Confusing, and pointless too because Spaniards say 8, not 2000.
- Outside my door is very bright, so every morning I forget to turn on the light in the staircase. By the time I get to the floor below me, it's too dark to see, so I have to feel around for the lightswitch, which, depending on what floor you're on, switches places with the doorbell. So most mornings I ring these peoples' doorbell and then run downstairs in the dark before they can open the door. I'm sorry, downstairs neighbors!
- Spaniards aren't polite. That's not to say they're not friendly or nice, but they don't waste words on "I'm sorry," "please," and "thank you" unless they really mean it. I can't stop saying any of those things. But they don't expect it and give me strange looks.
- They don't tip here. Awesome. This will be difficult when I go back to the states.
- English words are very cool here. Random English songs play all the time, everywhere. A few days ago I was in a bar eating breakfast, surrounded by children and other breakfasters, and 'Because I Got High' came on. Completely uncensored, which I hadn't ever heard before. And last night the bar we were in played John Lennon, old JLo, U2, various songs from the '50s, and Shakira, among other things that had nothing to do with each other.
- Oh yeah, people eat every meal in bars. Multipurpose.
- They LOVE Brad Pitt. LOVE. They don't care about Angie. Only Brad Pitt.
- Spaniards are very touchy-feely. Shop girls are always touching me as they point me to the dressing rooms.

I'm excited to get used to these things (but maybe not the music one). It's so much fun to live here and be familiar with such a beautiful little city. ¡Me encanta Granada!

¿Dónde está Pepe?

Where is Pepe?

The staggering ratio of boys to girls means that either all the boys stick together, or each group of girls gets one boy. Luckily we have Pepe. He speaks Spanish better than the rest of us, so he handles our expenses and makes sure no creepy Spanish men are absconding with us. In exchange, being in a group of nine American girls, he reaps the benefits of all the free things we get. For example, last night we got two free bottles of Spanish dessert wine. While we stand around in the street deciding where to go, Pepe (which isn't his real name, by the way) wanders off and we follow him and this is how we actually get places. Today we lost him.

Sometimes being here feels a little like going back in time. I walk through narrow streets, with a cathedral and spice vendors, and all the brightly colored houses with fancy white windows. I keep half-expecting a lady in a gown and Spanish headdress to peer out of one of them. The Spanish have clung to their traditional fashions. The nicer clothing stores sell matador-inspired chaquetas (jackets). There's a lot of lace and frills and polka dots. It's all very ornate, and super cheap because of the crisis. ("Creesees," they call it.)

My internet seems pretty solid now, so I can finally talk to you a bit on skype or facebook or lo que quieres.

PS. I TOOK THE PICTURE AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE!

Vida en Granada, un poco tarde

Life in Granada, a bit late

After much fussing and mumbling, I now have internet in certain rooms in the house. It's been frustrating because all my new friends have been talking with their parents and friends daily and I've already forgotten so many things I wanted to tell you!

My house is beautiful. It's right in the center of town where the buildings are old and romantic. The cathedral is right next to me! I can see it from the windows! The buildings come right up to it so it's really hard to see. Spice sellers and gypsies set up camp around it during the day when it's hot. I haven't had a chance to go inside yet, but I will! The streets in this part are narrow and windy and cobbled, opening into bright parks surrounded by little shops and tapas bars. There are palm trees everywhere. I've been taking pictures, I'll post some when I get internet in my room.

Midday it gets pretty hot, but in the mornings and at night it's freezing. We all had to buy gloves. The Granadinos are especially miserable because this is as cold as it gets here. Anabel showed me all the pictures she'd taken when it snowed this winter. There was a sprinkling of snow on the palm leaves. "Mira, hay pocito blanco!" ("Look, there's a bit of white!") I showed her the pictures Katie took of the snow on Shelter Island and she barely believed me. She lent me a fleece bathrobe and I have slippers and big blankets, but I still need to huddle by the heater after a shower before I can stop shivering. They have under-table heaters, which you put under the dining room table with a thick tablecloth to keep your legs warm. Anabel brings the tablecloth all the way up to her chin.

Yesterday with went hiking in Las Alpujarras, a national park in the Sierra Nevadas. From the top, we could see the Mediterranean in the distance. The trail went over mountains and through tiny villages with all-white buildings. It went right through the middle of one stone house that had an old water mill and solar panels. The guide told us it was 800 years old. We stopped for lunch on the steps of a cathedral in one of the larger towns in the taja, which is the Arabic word for a collection of teensy villages in a valley. This village had a cathedral and a bar, where we ordered hot chocolate and sat in the sun. (The hot chocolate here is so thick! It's like drinking pudding.) The whole way, someone's dog followed us. He seemed to know his way, but we all felt bad leaving him alone on the other side of the mountain.

One of the specialties of Granada is a drink called tinto de verano. It's red wine and Fanta. In most places it's only one euro and comes with a tapa. Another specialty is called el sacromonto (a barrio in the city where gypsies live...in caves...this is real. And sometimes they will come up to you in the street and offer a tour of their cave in exchange for a couple euro). Anyway, the tapa called el sacramonto is mashed up lamb brains and bull testiculos on a cracker. What scares me is that when you order a drink you don't get to choose your tapa, they give you "primero" or "segundo" depending on how many drinks you've had. I'll have to keep an eye out.

Nothing happens on Sunday except that the bells in the cathedral ring every half hour. Granadinos sleep until 2 every Sunday. Tonight we're going to get churros y chocolate in the Bib Rambla and then to a bar nearby that offers free salsa lessons. I really like the friends I've made so far and I hope I have some classes with them so we'll stay in touch. Buenas!

En Málaga, con castilas y lluvia

In Málaga, with castles and rain

The most important difference so far between Spain and America is that Spain is beautiful even when they sky is gray. Lancaster, dressed in gray, might just be the most depressing place on earth. In Málaga, gray isn't dreary; it's mysterious.

Our plane (there were about twenty of us on board) descended in total fog, until a tiny coastline appeared, followed by a modest cityscape, and then by rocky, uneven mountaintops. It looked like a little Japanese watercolor, a city floating in fog.

We had to get cell phones, which was an adventure in itself, followed by a joint effort at making them work. It's in short-hand Spanish. It took six of us half an hour, no joke, to save each others' numbers.

For our "group dinner" our leader Javier took all 65 of us (55 girls, 10 boys) on a brief walking tour of Málaga. We saw a cathedral hidden in twisting streets, which is named El Manco because one of its spires was never completed (a manco is someone with only one hand). He took us to a perfectly preserved Roman ampitheater and medieval fortress, both of which were closed for the night but we could see from the medieval cobbled steps. We passed 19th century apartments, 17th century churches, adorable little taperias. Forty-five minutes later, in the center of a maze of winding streets and alleys, Javier says, "Okay. Is early for dinner, but late for you. Try to find food. Hotel is that way." And he pointed to vaguely where we had come from, and walked away.

This was at 7:30. No restaurants were open. Many didn't even open until 11. Eight of us found a good, cheap taperia and ordered food we thought might be familiar. The best by far was the brie in cranberry sauce, the worst (though still edible) was the "hamburguesita," which we thought would be mini hamburgers but ended up being one small circle of ham on bread. It was really hard to order food, a lot harder than I had expected, even when the menu was in English. But it was only the first night, and we left full and happy, so things can only improve.

Javier had told us if we got lost to ask for el estación del tren or el río. We'd been so turned around in the winding narrow streets we walked in the wrong direction for ten minutes. We had to ask directions three different times. Eventually we found the río (which was a stupid río, hardly any water at all and a concrete island down the center) and followed it until we recognized our street.

Now I'm back in my hotel room, cleaned up and exhausted, but happy. I miss you all very much.