Tapas, Traveling, and Tranquility

Lingering

Wed, 21 Dec 2011 00:44:46 +0100

Back in August, I essentially dived into a pool and began swimming. I saw so many new sights, smelled the scents of delicious food cooking or over-cologned passersby, and made my way through Spain. I was so taken by the new and different beauty of the country, and especially the customs. One of the first things I noticed was how social everyone seemed to be and how the plaza café was a cornerstone of the lifestyle here in Spain.

Noticing all of this is something that so often happens when you go to a new place. You tend to pick out the small things that normally go unnoticed, also noticing the big ones too. I suppose that’s the beauty of traveling to a different country on vacation, because you immerse yourself in something quite different from home. The same thing happens when you study abroad, but with the added time, those small things that you noticed at first slowly recede and, after a while, become unnoticed just the same. It’s not a bad thing, it just shows that you have become a part of the lifestyle and that place became a home.

A home this is. Granada is a big part of my life now. So many experiences and memories were forged on the streets of this mid-sized city in the mountains, and so many friendships were made. I am preparing to leave Granada for what will likely be the last time. I would love to return at some point, but that time probably will not happen for many years to come. What’s important, though, is that I have grown. Obviously not physically, but intellectually. My entire life I have enjoyed traveling to new places, crafting new experiences and relationships and Granada stands as the best of those experiences.

In many ways, I would say that studying abroad is like the first semester of college. You arrive and are out of your element, in a new environment and with new responsibilities. There may be friends from high school, so you flock together and share the majority of your experiences together while navigating the complexities of this new place. With time you make new amazing friends, figure out the drinking culture and reach some sense of moderation that will influence your lifestyle and decisions while having a blast and the time of your life. Shortly thereafter, you realize that this new place has become routine. You know all the nooks and crannies, you have a super secret territory in the library for studying and have a regular group of friends. Then the time comes to leave and while you’re sad, you look back with fondness at all that you have accomplished, you smile at the funny moments and joke about the embarrassing ones. As pictures are viewed, you chuckle at who you were all that time ago, and you map out in your mind how you have grown personally. Then you leave, maintaining ties and connections while going about whatever trail in life is meant for you, while always reflecting back to a time and a place that was special and that will never be replicated again.

This is how I feel as the hours wind down and I prepare to go to bed one last time in my apartment. Spain was a new experience for me, and one that I relish with the hungry zest of someone in a hot dog eating competition. Like them, I soaked everything up and consumed all that I could of my time here in Granada and abroad. Unlike the hot dog competitor, I could actually taste what I was experiencing, and could thus appreciate it all the more. My time here was not a competition by any means, but it was an experience that many people witnessed and can share.

So many of us students came together for these past few months and I made tons of new friends, many of whom I may never see again, but the memories will live on. At some point, my trail may converge with that of any of my new friends, and I’m sure we will get together and remember all of the experiences we shared in Spain, for the memories will come surging back. They always do.

What makes these memories and these moments of reminiscence so special, is they can never be replicated. I could very well study abroad again and go to a new country, learn the language, and submit myself to a new set of experiences, but it would not be the same. The people, the places, the experiences and the culture make an experience what it is meant to be and that is what forges the memories, making them so unique.

Despite the differences in experiences, all good things must come to an end. Time never stops chugging on, and life will pick up tomorrow with the regularity of the rising sun. It may be a new day with new possibilities, but the memories of yesterday will still be there, lingering.

Memories are what make up life. We live our lives as best we can, while looking back on the formative experiences that guided us along our treks and remember as our hearts glow with happiness or sadness, laughter or anger. My time here in Granada was each of these, and for that I am thankful. I will miss the amazing friends that I have made here, and the fond times that I have had, but there will not be a single moment that I will regret or frown upon.

Many years from now, I very well may have a family of my own. At some point, I’m sure one of my kids will ask me if I ever studied abroad and I can tell you right now, that I will chuckle, smile, remember those still lingering memories, and smile some more with the most profound sense of elation in my heart.

The Final Friday

Sat, 17 Dec 2011 13:14:00 +0100

I stepped down that last step on the porch, quickly glanced left and then right, zipping up my forest green North Face jacket as I did so. I adjusted my backpack and started walking as the heavy metal door slammed behind me. I watched my breath slowly turning into a white mist in front of me as I eased into my walking rhythm.

Cars were moving by, filled with people driving to work and school. I was weaving my

way through the pedestrian crowds near my plaza and on the street at 8am. The sun was not up yet, with only a small sliver of light streaked across the sky. I passed the group of students that always look like they only had two hours of sleep, the preppy girls dressed to the nines and the one nerdy kid with the overloaded backpack that always frantically, exasperatedly sprints down the street as though he will be late for school. I passed the chain-smoking, beer guzzling bakery owner as he stood outside enjoying a morning coffee and a pack of cigarettes with a buddy. I saw the same group of three businessmen, all dressed up in their suits and ties, that I see every day as they make their way to work.

As I kept walking through my normal morning route, sights like these passed my eyes like advertisements on a TV screen. They’re there with that sense of regularity that so often accompanies routine, but hardly acknowledged.

Eventually I cut through the plaza that smells like bird droppings, making my way around the fountain and glancing up at the tall trees that were just now losing their leaves, noticing a bird or two here and there. Before I could look forward again, I stepped onto that old cobble-stoned road that was set back in the 17th century, that looked like something right out of Boston, and then made my way onto the Arabic cobble-stoned road that was laid out in the 14th century, (Instead of bricks, they would place down small stones about the size of a plastic silly putty case and fill the extra space with a mortar-type mixture) that softly massaged my feet as I pattered along.

When I emerged from the mass of buildings, I looked back and saw the tip of the Cathedral of Granada, which was beginning to be built in the 16th century, as the sun slowly peeped over the buildings with a ray that looked like someone spilled orange juice on the sky. I turned back and saw, down the long avenue, the snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains looming over the city like a kid leaning over their siblings’ shoulder on Christmas day. I then looked the other way, and saw the old Arabic quarter of Granada, the Albaicín, with all the gorgeous white houses decorated with flower pots and plants, houses that were still there after hundreds of years. Finally, I looked ahead of me, and saw the Alhambra in all it’s majesty upon that bluff, with the slightest hint of sunshine finally touching the tips of its walls and towers.

At last I made it to school, making my way past the various fountains, shops, cafés, and down that narrow alleyway to the Center for Modern Languages. As I sat down in my chair, I realized something: today is the last day I will be getting up at 7:30 and making this, what has been, daily trek to school. It’s quite possibly the last time I will see the sun peeping over the buildings, seeing those teenagers or the well-to-do businessmen by my building, or witness the baker’s first cigarette of the day.

I will miss walking down those old cobble-stoned streets that have a knack of massaging your feet after walking for hours, seeing the old buildings and cathedrals, glancing up at the intimidating mountains as they somehow, strangely, comfort me at the same time. Lastly, this is the last time I will see the sun hit the walls of the Alhambra, pushing away the cold darkness of night and beginning a new day.

After four months of this routine, the time has come to bid my farewells. While I could attempt to take pictures, I don’t want to be creepy. What’s more, I know quite well that for many years to come, I will remember all of those sights that I just shared. The sights that began my day, and often finished it, too.

When I go back to Wisconsin in less than three weeks, I won’t see old buildings quite like this. Instead I’ll see a different kind of barren, freezing, tundra-like beauty surrounding my lovely city and also my campus. Wisconsin is a world away with it’s own sense of beauty and history. While there are no snow-capped mountains, everything will (ideally) be laden with snow. Instead of seeing row upon row of olive groves out in the countryside, I’ll see endless rolling hills of farms, clusters of trees and silos. Each place is different in this world of ours, and they all have that magical beauty for itself. I’d often found myself relating certain sights or customs that I experienced here to other places I had visited, but it’s all still so different. There is no other place in the world that is beautiful in the same way that Spain is.

Nor is there any place exactly like Milwaukee, Lawrence or Wisconsin as a whole. All the same, when I go home, I know I will find myself looking for the chain-smoking, smoke-laden baker as I make my way to class in the morning, or I will look for those same businessmen as they gossip amongst themselves on their way to work. I will look for the ancient buildings, or look down for the cobblestones. I’ll glance around for a glimpse of the mountains or the Alhambra, and I will listen for the sounds of a city coming to life with the breaking dawn. While I won’t see any of that, or what I will see will be similar but also quite different, there will be another beauty to witness, other people to see and a way of life that will unhesitatingly forge on ahead. At last, I’ll be home.

Anticipation & Gratitude

Sat, 10 Dec 2011 14:07:07 +0100

I’ve spent the last few days trying to figure out what else I have left to do here in Granada. I’ve made list upon list and scribbled through countless pages of my tiny pocket-sized moleskin that I keep with me everywhere I go. Conscious of time flying by and my eventual departure nearing with each minute, I’m scrambling to make sure I’ve fulfilled all that I want to do.

A week from yesterday (Friday), I will have finished all but one of my exams. A week from today, Saturday, my Mom and my sister Natalie will be here in Granada. A few days later my other sister Angela will arrive and shortly thereafter we will all leave Granada. When we leave, so will most of the Americans that I’ve been studying with will all semester, as they plan to go up to Madrid to catch their flights back home. Meanwhile I will travel to a few other cities here in Andalucía and on into Portugal over Christmas, finishing in Madrid. All told, I have about a week and a half left here before my program is formally over.

Knowing this, I feel quite bittersweet. I’ve been here in Spain for quite a long time and as a consequence, much has happened. I’ve seen so much, shared many a laugh and had a great time. I’ve also had my share of challenges, too. The language barrier is a lot bigger than most people think, and with that so are a lot of the cultural norms that I’ve encountered, too.

Of course, I am looking forward to my return to the States- to see my family (unfortunately my Dad won’t be able to join us on our Christmas travels), my friends, my dogs, and to return to my more serious studies. In addition to my lists of things to do before I go home, I also have several things that I’ve not been able to replicate here, which I’m eager to resume back home (such as playing euchre with some of my greatest friends and kicking their asses. Kidding! Although it sometimes does happen…) and also things that I want to share with people about Spain. I want to have tapas parties, to teach people how to make sangria or tinto de verano, to use some of the Spanish colloquialisms that I’ve used, and many other things.

So much learning has happened and there is so much that I’m incredibly grateful for. I like to think that, as a writer, I have a pretty solid command of the English language but I still struggle at times to find a set of words that could even remotely portray the profound sense of gratitude that I feel for this opportunity. The chance to put yourself in an entirely new culture, to expose yourself to new and often challenging experiences while also trusting that you will learn something is truly special. It’s an opportunity that does not go ignored in this world, and it’s an opportunity that should be taken advantage of.

While I’m certainly feeling ready to go home, but reluctant to leave the lifestyle I have picked up here, time does not stop. Looking back through my photos, I realize in a tangible way how much I’ve done and seen. When flipping through my journal to find the end of my last entry, my fingers brush through page upon page on which I’ve scribbled my thoughts and anecdotes, those little particles of memories that I will look back at many years from now. A lot has happened, and for this I’m content.

I have a week and a half left, and there is still plenty of time to embrace my experience here in Granada before I leave with my family. Tons of time to share final laughs with friends, rolling eyes at corny statements, having a beer and watching a soccer match while soaking up this place and time. I wrote an earlier entry at the end of October about the sands of time and how the best way to adjust to time’s continuity is to reach down and pick up a handful of sand, for it’s those grains of sand that will remain with you for a lifetime. (I know it’s corny, but it’s true!)

I’m happy to say that right now, I can feel that little handful of sand in my pocket, and it’s a lot more sand than I would’ve anticipated.

Football!

Sun, 04 Dec 2011 13:05:54 +0100

Yesterday, I wore a red shirt. Not because of the coming holidays and my choice to do Christmas shopping for much of the day, but because the Wisconsin Badgers were going to play a very important game that night. As I hope all of you know, the Badgers played one of their biggest rivals (given Ohio State and Minnesota on cold streaks not unlike the Wisconsin winter) this season- Michigan State. The outcome of the game would decide who goes to the Rose Bowl.

There’s something beautiful about rivalries in the world of sports, if you ask me. Nowadays, rivals are forged from top-ranked teams with the best players, the most money, and ultimately better teamwork and playing styles. In the Big Ten, the Badgers are highly regarded for each of these reasons. Michigan State as well (although the Badgers are obviously better!). In the NFL, the same thing goes for the Packers who are undefeated for obvious reasons. What’s more, each rivalry has a bit of history to it as well. Badgers and Minnesota play for the Paul Bunyan Axe every year, Packers and Vikings are neighbors that hate each other. Packers and Bears fight because the packers are the ones that pack freshly killed bears meat and sell it. (Not really, but you get the point.) Each rivalry has a story behind all of the prestige of the program and so often that story gets forgotten at times.

Here in Spain, the biggest sport is football. Obviously not American football, but what we Americans call soccer (henceforth referred to as football). Definitely the best sport in the world. While that statement may provoke some disagreement from some of you, you cannot dispute the fact that football is definitely the most watched sport in the world. Each of the major games are anticipated, viewed and analyzed in a manner fraught with passion and dedication not unlike that of the Superbowl for American football. Yeah, it’s pretty intense!

Accompanying this is one HUGE rivalry, arguably the biggest global football rivalry- that of Real Madrid and FC Barcelona. Madrid and Barcelona are the two biggest cities in Spain, and the teams are those with the most money, the best players, arguably the most diehard fans (although that goes for most teams), and the largest global followings. The matches between FC Barcelona and Real Madrid, called El Clásico, is a match that happens at least twice a year in the Spanish league calendar (sometimes more). It’s intense and it is fraught with historical and especially political significance that is far more relevant and pertinent than the rivalries I was referring to earlier in American football.

The city of Barcelona is part of the region called Catalan, a northern territory that prides itself on it’s own unique version of Spanish, with people that tend to be proud, self-centered and like money too much. While I cannot attest to any of these statements and hence cannot verify much fact, there is something true about Catalan nationalism and identity given the language. As a result, FC Barcelona has come to represent this Catalan nationalism and many cultural characteristics of the region.

On the other hand, Real Madrid tends to represent Spanish nationalism, and the unification of the country as a whole despite different versions of language and culture in the various states. It is a more centric team within the country and thus has a greater following. Here in Granada (and in much of the country), there are far more Real Madrid fans than FC Barcelona. The reasons in a traditional sense are more often than not political (with regards to identity) as opposed to technical (meaning players, style, coaching, team ethics, etc.)

However, with time, the true politics begin to be lost (ie What’s the true reason for the intense rivalry between the Bears and Packers?), and are replaced by more modern beliefs regarding the success of a team. These beliefs pertain to money and prestige. Some of the world’s best players play for these two teams- Messi (FCB), Ronaldo (RM), Xavi (FCB), Casillas (RM), Fábregas (FCB) to name only a small few- and some of the best private coaches in Europe lead the teams. Since the players are top-notch, the style of play is high-caliber and incredibly intense. It is not unlike watching a quality Packers vs Bears or, in the case of last night, Badgers vs Michigan State.

The same goes for America. Some of the best professional players are with the Packers. The Badgers have two players that can make strong cases for the Heisman trophy. Many of the top teams in the country share the strongest players, best coaches, lots and lots of money, and huge fan bases. There’s a culture that revels in the glory of sports and a great rivalry. Families and friends get together to watch games, or talk about the results the day after. The news follows team successes and losses, players and coaches and the politics. Before, I thought this was a pretty American thing but it definitely is not. All of the same things happen in Spain.

The biggest thing that I’ve noticed in drawing this comparison was how so many people come together and unite under the success of their favorite teams. The last Packer game I went to several years ago, I ended up screaming and giving high-fives to the hunting gear-clad, sausage chewing, Miller Lite drinking fans around me that I didn’t even know. Last night as I watched FC Barcelona play, I was cheering and giving high-fives to other Spaniards that support the team as well, even if I’d not spoken to them at all. Regardless, we were all there, sharing in the experience.

While I don’t go to UW-Madison, I grew up supporting the Badgers. I bleed red. I bleed green for the Packers, too. Since I’m not from Spain and didn’t grow up watching Spanish football, I can’t claim allegiance to FC Barcelona in the same way. However, I can appreciate the rivalry between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona, and share in the enthusiasm of watching my favorite team win. As the Badgers head to the Rose Bowl, the Packers make a strong case for another Superbowl run, and FC Barcelona gets closer to yet another league championship match against Real Madrid, I cannot help but revel in the beauty if a good, strong rivalry. The kind of rivalry that excites and unites the world around me, and leads us all to cheer or jeer together across language barriers and backgrounds. While the politics aren’t as apparent anymore, there is still nothing like a good, old rivalry to make a sport so much more fun to follow.

Happy Holidays!

Wed, 23 Nov 2011 19:03:52 +0100

Here in Granada, the streets have been decorated with light fixtures in the shapes of bells and snowflakes. Some homes even put up lights in their street-facing windows, and the shops that I pass to/from school have become noticeably busier. Yup, it’s holiday season again!

This is my favorite time of year as I’m usually back at Lawrence, working hard and stressing about finals (with my friends, some of whom are pictured at right), pushing myself to the very edge of my motivation to get things done. When all has been finished, there’s nothing better than coming home and being able to celebrate Thanksgiving within a day or two, to be greeted with all of those fantastic hugs, smiles and my Dad’s ridiculous and eye-roll (with a simultaneous chuckle) provoking sense of humor. Not to mention the food, of course.

While I no doubt miss being home for the holidays, I’m curious to see what it’s like to be in Spain for them. After one of my classes today, my favorite professor stopped me on my way out and said (in Spanish, of course): “Happy Turkey Day tomorrow, Jared! I hope you’ll be able to chat with your family for a bit even though we have classes all day.” It was a nice comment that caught me off-guard, but I was glad that she could appreciate the meaning of the day. She then asked what I would miss most and I said “Well a lot of things. But my Grandma Gallagher (pictured in front and center in the picture above) makes some AMAZING pies. My Grandma Marchant (pictured below in the lower right) makes some pretty fantastic dishes as well” (Notice how I didn’t list anything specific because all of the food they prepare, and that of my entire family, is truly excellent). My professor smiled and said that she wishes her Grandmothers and families could cook as well as it seems mine can. :)

Spain doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving of course, but given the number of international students (many of whom are American), it’s no secret that Thanksgiving is a big deal. Given this, many people tend to go out of their way to wish us a happy holiday, and my program has planned a nice dinner for all of us to attend. Nonetheless, no matter how intrigued or excited I may be to experience the holiday season in Spain, there is still that pang that wishes I could join in some of the holiday festivities with those that I care about.

So while I cannot be there in person to join my family at the table or give those plethora of hugs to various family members (although I am, indeed, Google video chatting with my family tomorrow), I’ll give my thanks via this blog.

I think it’s no surprise that the biggest thing I’m (and many of my fellow study abroaders are) thankful for this year is support. I would not be able to come to Spain without the willingness, trust, love and support that my parents provide. What’s more, I’m thankful for my amazing sisters who continuously impress me with all that they do and who are the ones that helped ignite that flame to travel and explore new places. I’m thankful for my exemplary extended family and all of my truly fantastic friends. All of whom have been so supportive by sending random emails to say “hello”, by reading my blog and responding, by commenting on pictures, or chatting with me via facebook from time to time. Lastly, I’m thankful for my boss at Lawrence Today, Sheree Rogers, for letting me do this blog, giving me advice, and supporting me along the way. The same goes to Laura Zuege for promoting the blog as a way to generate excitement for studying abroad and also giving me great feedback. Two amazing women that support me so much in such a unique way, for which I’m very thankful!

So, THANK YOU everyone!!!

Thank you all for your marvelous love and support and I wish ALL of you a happy holiday season! I’m so glad for the opportunity to be here in Spain and it makes me happy to be able to share these experiences with all of you even from multiple time zones away. Since I cannot be there to give you all a hug and express my thanks, I hope these words will suffice as will this picture that looks somewhat like I’m about to give a fantastic bear hug to someone:

(if it doesn’t, just pretend)

Enjoy your electronically-given bear hug dear readers! And thanks for reading thus far. Have a happy Thanksgiving and see all of you in 2012!

Fitting In

Sat, 19 Nov 2011 11:27:11 +0100

A few weeks ago, I went to one of my favorite wine and tapas places for an evening with friends. The wine was fabulous as usual and the accompanying tapas was exceptional. It was time well spent, and when we were ready to leave, I went and asked for the bill from the bartender.

When he came back from the cash register, he told me the price in Spanish, but I hadn’t heard him completely since the place was just starting to get packed, so I asked him to repeat himself and I leaned further so I could hear him better. Instead of repeating what he had just said in Spanish, he tried to use some broken English. I didn’t really appreciate this, although I knew he meant well. We figured out the correct price, paid the bill and left.

Conversely, the other day on my way home for lunch, I cut through a popular shopping area and weaved my way through the throngs of families that were doing shopping over their lunchtime breaks. At one point, a middle-aged Spanish woman came up to me and asked where a certain church was (in Spanish) and what was the best way to get there. I responded in kind and she happily made her way. I later was confronted by a young woman that was polling the political climate due to the upcoming elections. She asked me questions about what I thought about the candidates and their policies as well as where I saw Spain going in the coming years. I wasn’t exactly expecting these questions, but I responded in the best way I could, and I know she was appreciative of my attempt to answer her questions.

While I can completely understand the first story where the bartender was well-meaning and genuinely wanted things to be clear, I obviously find so much more value in the second two. There is no doubt that I stand out as an American student, or at least an International student (I’ve had people ask me where I’m from in France or Germany). My skin color is different, my accent is noticeable and the way I dress is, while nice and appropriate to the culture, still a little different.

I’m finding, though, that people are accepting me as a member of the community here in Granada, regardless of my Americanism, politics, skin color or accent. If not, the woman looking for the church would’ve walked up to any of the other of hundreds of people making their way through the streets. Likewise, the pollster would’ve avoided me and sought out the opinion of an actual Spaniard. I suppose that Granada being a large university town with many international students, people like me tend to become a part of the lifestyle here. While I may certainly be treated differently- like in the story about the bartender- or people may speak to me more slowly than they would to others, I’m still a member of the community.

Before I came to Spain, and after I got here, I was curious to see how people would treat me. On my previous vacations to foreign countries, the locals mostly left me alone and rarely engaged me. Here in Granada, now that I actually live here and know the city quite well, the people treat me as one of their own despite the obvious national difference.

Occasionally I still get spoken to in English, or asked about things in America but at the same time, it’s pretty nice to have someone come up to me and ask me what I thought about upcoming elections or where certain buildings are, all in Spanish. I guess I could say that while I’ve considered Granada a new home in many ways, I had not had an experience that truly made it feel like Granada was my home until those two women thought to ask me a question as opposed to someone else. So I suppose that, even in a small way, Granada is that much more of a home to me than it was back in September.

My Diversion

Mon, 14 Nov 2011 17:30:25 +0100

Until this past weekend, I hadn’t had the opportunity to visit the mountains of Spain, something I had been longing to do since before I arrived. For those of you who know me well, you might know that I’m an Eagle Scout and also an avid outdoorsman. While I love being all awesome and cosmopolitan, I often find my escape in mountains and the outdoors. Although, given my hectic school schedules, I rarely have time to delve into that crucial part of my life.

This past weekend, however, I definitely found my getaway. My program (ISA) organized a trip to Las Alpujarras, a region in the Sierra Nevada mountains that’s actually a national park. We twisted and turned our way on a giant coach bus through the mountain range, often looking out the window to see no road below us (which I loved!). With that view came incredible vistas of high ridges, snow-capped peaks, white pueblos and trees that were changing colors kind of like Wisconsin in mid-October.

Every so often, we would see or drive through a small pueblo (village) of white homes and cute little stores with a lot of local artistry and food. If any of you have had the privilege of visiting Door County, think of that except without a lake and instead located in the mountains. So beautiful!

The program took us on a hike for six hours through the mountains, stopping at the top of a peak for lunch accompanied by beautiful views. As I sat there munching on my sandwich and listening to my friends chat, I couldn’t help but marvel at the vast terrain and all the beautiful sights provided by the hike. I realized how much I truly missed the outdoors after having lived in a large city for the past few months.

Back at Lawrence, I always have views of a river when I study or eat and I pass through gorgeous green space when going to/from class (except it’s super white and sometimes gray in the winter, obviously). My university lifestyle at home is absorbed with the outdoors, whereas here I walk amidst buildings on a daily basis, with hardly a glimpse of expansive green space. I can deal with that, as it’s not unpleasant or bothersome to me. However, this trip certainly led me to realize the importance of the outdoors and how it’s nice to get away every once in a while; to go to a place that has no cars, loud noises or pollution is, in a way, a sort of refuge that rejuvenates.

Starting class on Monday wasn’t terribly exciting, as per usual, but I certainly felt well-rested and relaxed. After a week of midterms, a weekend trip to the mountains was just what I needed! And the best thing of all? They were only a 1.5 hour drive away.

Click here for photos! If you so desire…

Journey to a Whole New World

Sat, 05 Nov 2011 15:26:16 +0100

This past Thursday (November 3rd) at about 1am, I arrived home from one of the most amazing trips I’ve ever taken. Each year, ISA (the program that I am studying with) organizes a six-day trip to Morocco for its participants, for which we pay extra. And I gotta tell ya, it was worth it.

My trip consisted of the following:

Ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar
Visit to one of the oldest cities, and Morocco’s first Imperial city, Fez
Shopping in Fez’s famous Medina (market)- a vast array of some 9,500 narrow, winding alleyways
Visiting Fez’s ceramics district, it’s oldest university (from the 9th century) and the Royal Palace gates
Seeing a belly dancing show
Traveling into the Sahara desert via Jeep 4x4s
Camping in tents among sand dunes for two nights
Seeing the sun rise over the sand dunes and the brilliant stars in the middle of the night
Riding camels through the sand dunes
Visiting a typical desert village
Climbing sand dune ‘mountains’ with friends to fill up empty water bottles with sand from the top
Eating spicy food for once (Spain spices their food with olive oil.)
Drinking lots of mint tea

Needless to say, all of this was truly amazing. My favorite experience was walking with three other buddies of mine through the sand dunes. We had an afternoon free to explore the desert on our own, so we grabbed our empty water bottles and walked for about two miles to a giant sand ‘mountain’ and climbed to the top. It was maybe 700 feet high and the view was absolutely breathtaking. We filled our water bottles up with sand from the top of that mountain, and just sat there, taking in the sights and having great conversations as the sun slowly began to set. Interestingly enough, the day we climbed that sand dune was Halloween Day. What an awesome way to spend the holiday, eh?

No matter how amazing the views were, how awesome the gifts I purchased are, or how memorable the experiences, one of the things that will inevitably stand out to me the most from Morocco is the state of living. It’s something unmistakable and unvarnished that leaves visitors with a sense of “whoa.”

The cities had lots of litter, there were hardly any traffic lights, the homes were run-down and the cars were beaten up. Make no mistake, there were plenty of nice cars around and comfortable homes. Even so, the simple way of life and the evidence of minimal materialism or wealth stands out like a bright light in the middle of the night.

As a result, I often found myself wondering what effect all of this was having on tourists. Morocco benefits greatly from tourism, as it’s a popular entry point for those hoping to visit more than one country in Africa, since there is such an overlap with Europe and many languages are spoken in Morocco. When I was sitting on one of our three coach buses, passing through these cities, I couldn’t help but look around the bus at my friends and watch them look out the window at such a different way of life. What were they thinking? Feeling? What will they do with this experience when they go home?

What we saw was a culture that was very different from our own, and people that were incredibly content with how they were living. There was no desperation for lavish accessories or the newest style of anything. This isn’t to say that Americans are desperate for lavish things, which may or may not be true, but rather that there is a stark contrast between America and Morocco in terms of evidence of wealth, expense and the way we live our lives. Bearing this in mind, will we (as tourists) become more aware and careful of our decisions or purchases from now on? Or will we simply make a mental note of the contrast in living, remember to tell people about it, and then go home and continue to live life as we have before?

I don’t have any answers or ideas, nor should I at this point. I guess theimportant thing is that I was there, that I saw a place and a group of people living a lifestyle different from my own and that I was aware of the difference. I believe it’s trips like these that make for a ‘global education’ that will somehow, someday impact my way of life and the decisions that I make. Maybe I’ll start changing next week, when I go home, or a year from now. Who knows? This is the benefit of travel and although the sights weren’t always so pretty, I like to think that my thinking has expanded in a new, unique way and I couldn’t be happier with that.

To look at my pictures from Morocco, click here!

Sands of Time

Wed, 26 Oct 2011 22:22:01 +0200

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said:

“In three words I can sum up life: It goes on.”

I have this quirk that is all about time. One of my favorite accessories is my watch, which I usually wear on a daily basis and boy do I like wearing it! I feel so strange without it- I can deal, but it´s definitely something that is a part of me. I’m one of those people that firmly believes in being prompt and timely, as it shows seriousness and professionalism. As a result, I usually get to my classes with a few minutes to spare, so by the time the professor comes in, I’ve got my notebook out and am ready to begin.

Yet one thing I don’t normally think about, is how quickly time slips through our fingers. It’s almost like standing in an ocean or a lake and reaching down, picking up a handful of sand, and feeling all of those tiny grains slip through your fingers as you try to bring the sand to the surface, leaving only a tiny mountain in the palm of your hand. It all happens so quickly and effortlessly while you sit there and marvel, staring at each little piece- the white, brown, clear, black, or tan ones- and wondering where they all came from, but also, where did they all go?

I’ve been contemplating this notion for the past few days as I look through my agenda and notice the day of the month while I look to the coming weeks and see what I have before me. Currently, I’m getting prepared to head to Morocco for five days with my program, an optional excursion for which I paid extra for… all the way back in July. I changed some money into the local currency a few weeks ago through my program, thinking “oh it’s still a while off but I’ll get this done now so I don’t forget”, an easily dismissed thought as though I had all the time in the world until my trip. And yet, here I am, typing this blog and staring at my packed bags whenever I’m at a loss for words.

While it has only been three weeks since I changed my money, it seems so long ago that I was at home, setting up times to meet up with friends and family, running errands and relaxing with my dogs while gradually packing. Even longer, it seems like so much has passed before my eyes since I landed in Madrid on that day way back in August (the 28th) and began my adventures here in Spain. I’m now almost halfway through my time in this amazing country, and so much has occurred. I’ve met so many fantastic people, explored a new city and allowed it to become my home, traveled to Paris and different parts of Spain and taken classes that keep me intrigued and on the tips of my toes.

Essentially, I’ve climbed through dunes of sand, with each particle representing a memory- a joke, a smile, a laugh, a time or a place. Whether it’s a sad memory, a challenge or one filled with excitement is no matter. They’re all particles, making a shape. I have my photos to recall all of these, and the strength of my mind’s eye. I could tell you exactly what I was wearing when I got off the airplane in Madrid, the first piece of tapas I had and with whom, and the first people I met (including what they were wearing and what we talked about). Of course, I may not remember these details in a year, or many years from now, but I will certainly recall the roller coaster ride of fun, the friends I made, the walls that I’ve climbed and the challenges that I’ve endured.

And still, time presses on. The dune that I’ve climbed through thus far will grow in these coming weeks, but eventually it will recede, too. The rivers of time will come swooshing down, and sooner than I think, I’ll be on a plane bound for the States. It always happens, and it always will. Time never stops for anyone or anything, always leaving you in it’s wake, marveling at the particles left behind. The most we can do, and what I fully intend to do, is to keep having fun, pushing my boundaries and crafting new experiences to chronicle in my journal, my photo albums, or to archive in my mind. All while reaching down and picking up a handful of sand, and putting that little mountain in my pocket to be held on to for years to come so that one day, many years from now, I can find a little piece of sand somewhere, and remember a joke, a smile, a challenge or a laugh.

Colors, Collages and Community

Fri, 21 Oct 2011 22:04:16 +0200

Being in Spain and going to such a large school like the University of Granada is a great experience. Coming from a small school in the Midwest, I’m not used to the large crowds, walking 20 minutes to and from school, or the vast expanse of a university. It’s a way of life foreign to me like the language here, but it’s also something I’ve grown accustomed to enjoy over all these weeks.

Granada, a city of some 240,000 people and a University of roughly 80,000 (5,000 of which are international students), is quite the transition from my school of some 1,500. Here, I’ve blended into the system like a poorly painted watercolor; the colors are still discernible, yet the details are lost. In a sense, I’ve become a name, a face and a number.

My name appears on attendance lists like an item on a shopping list, something to be checked off. You know it was on the list, and in the cart, you see it and you acknowledge it, remembering it was there. And with that name, comes a number– a statistic, money, a percentage. To a university of 80,000, no one of authority knows me except for my professors, and even they struggle to remember my name, much less pronounce it (to some, I’m called “Miguel” or “Paco”) for the time being. For now, I am a numerical value and a name that exists in the vast expanse of technology, meant to be referred to later this year to examine trends and make decisions.

Finally, I’m a face. Imagine those artistically designed pictures of famous people (such as Abraham Lincoln) that are actually collages of thousands of people’s faces. You don’t realize it at first until you look much closer later on. I am one of those thousands of faces that makes up the University of Granada. I blend in, yet I stand out, too. People may see me, but they may not know my name, who I am, or where I am from other than perhaps that I am American.

Over the past few weeks I’ve gotten to know the other faces of that collage, people in my program that come from all over the United States, and other international students, too. We all share the notion of blending in, and we are our own little microcosm of students, enjoying the opportunities presented to us. Yet at the same time, something is different.

Back at Lawrence, I (and any other student) am much more than any of these. Of course I exist on paper and I am a number, but I hold so much more value in the community. I’m not just another face in the crowd, a part of a collage. I am a person that is involved in the community, working with other students and administration to sustain the success of the university, to improve the place we fondly call home. And that’s true not just for me, but for every student there. At Lawrence I can walk to class and pass roughly 15-20 people that I am well acquainted with, all of whom will smile, wave or call out my name and stop to chat, with me doing the same. Here in Granada, I will see maybe 2 or 3 people I know on my way to school.

The academics at Granada are interesting (more on that later) and certainly teach me a lot. Yet in a different manner than what I am used to. Here, we go to class, have discussions and explore concepts. Then we do homework that’s either reading a short story or doing some worksheet problems. It’s easy work that certainly is retained, but it’s nothing compared to Lawrence, as this homework only takes one hour to finish…. not four. The student experience at Lawrence essentially compensates for the highly concentrated and prolonged stress, hard work and nerdiness that inevitably prevails. We all endure 10 weeks of rigorous coursework, a struggle that persists for the whole year, backdropped by a dark abyss of changing, temperamental weather patterns. Yet the best thing of all is we’re all in it together. We all understand each other. When I’m stressed, 1,499 other people are stressed, too.

Yes, we’re all faces in a crowd, but this time the faces stand out, and they’re familiar. What you’re looking at is a family. A family of intellectuals, nerds, individuals, artists, musicians, writers, scientists, academics and friends. For what it’s worth, the University of Granada is a fantastic place with fantastic education, life-changing experiences and so many opportunities and I relish the experience with a hunger not unlike that which accompanies staring at Grandma’s apple pie on Thanksgiving Day. But when it comes down to it, the University has absolutely nothing on the feeling of community that is so easily found at Lawrence.

Socializing– the College Way

Fri, 14 Oct 2011 21:30:41 +0200

As I’ve mentioned many a time before, Spaniards love to be social and spend time together, whether it’s meeting for walks, tapas and drinks, or simply sharing a bench in the park. This is true not only for old people, but for college students too. Since I live with 5 other guys, I’ve been able to witness firsthand how my two spanish flatmates– José and Miguel– conduct themselves and interact with the world around them.

I sat down with José the other day and asked him what Spanish college students, and him, do with their free time or on the weekends. Of course, I knew the answer having been living here in Granada for about six weeks, but I still wanted to see what he’d say.

His answer? “We drink. And then we go to the clubs. During the day, we go for beer and tapas and chat.” For those of you that don’t know, Granada is the number one college town in Spain. It’s no surprise with roughly 80,000 students and a BUNCH of clubs that open at midnight and stay open until 7am (hence the famed siesta). Among other things, of course.

Given all the students, I asked José if binge drinking is popular and he said no. “In Spain, we social drink. We get together and spend time together at a bar or restaurant. We order our drinks and get our free tapas. Sometimes we have just one round, sometimes more. But we take our time. Always. And if we end up tipsy or drunk, then that’s how it is, but if we need to stop, we do. No matter what, we socialize as that’s more important than having a hangover the next day. Sure we might drink a little heavier after a stressful week or on a Friday, but not as often to be sure.”

I asked him why he had this opinion and José credited the widely known European approach to alcohol- that of tasting your parents’ drinks at dinner as a younger kid, gradually working up to having your own cup while witnessing a positive, responsible example of safe consumption of alcohol.

I find this particularly intriguing, while not terribly surprising at the same time. Spaniards are inherently social, thriving on their time with others that they care deeply about. In America, we work long hours and submit ourselves to stressful lifestyles, often getting less sleep, eating poorly and not exercising. While I have no facts to support this, I do think that all of the stress I’ve mentioned contributes to an intense drinking lifestyle in America as compared to that of Spain.

Of course, many college students (myself included!) are very responsible when it comes to drinking, even if they are underage. My friends and I back at Lawrence also social drink, rarely if ever doing shots, but always putting our time together without the demand of work much higher than that of getting drunk. Yet at the same time it’s unnerving that America has this stereotype of binge drinking and an uninspiring quality of life (in some respects). It is my hope that, with this rapidly expanding world where we can learn so much from other countries by travel, media or literature, and the ability to study abroad becomes increasingly accessible, that America will pick up a few things along the way.

A Brief Sojourn

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 22:41:05 +0200

Anyone that has traveled anywhere- whether it’s a long weekend trip to some destination or a longer vacation to some dreamy place will all tell you that there’s nothing like coming home. Yes, you go and have an (ideally) amazing time away, but it’s nice to put your house key in the lock, open the door, turn on the lights, drop your bags, emit a huge sigh and relax. Home. It’s nice.

That’s just a brief snippet of how I feel today, as I write this piece. At the end of last week, I finished a month long intensive language program that consisted of four hours of Spanish class every day. I then had a vacation until this Thursday, and three of my Lawrence friends and I decided to take a trip to PARIS!

I have to say, I fell in love. Cliché as it may sound, being the city of love and lights, Paris was truly an amazing place. Unfortunately I was only there for three days and nights, but that provided ample time to do as much as possible! A brief review:

Louvre museum (Got in free! It’s always free on the first Sunday each month!)
Arc du Triumphe and Avenue des Champs Elysees
Notre Dame (Climbed to the top for some great views)
Eiffel Tower (Didn’t climb to the top, but Notre Dame was better anyway. My friends and I had a cheese, bread and wine lunch picnic next to the tower. So awesome!)
Shakespeare & Co. (Famous English language book store. I bought Allen Ginsberg’s Howl and got it stamped! Yay English major nerdiness!)
Sauntered along the Seine
Ate French food including (but not limited to) French onion soup, brie cheese, bordeaux wine, cotes du rhone wine, baguettes, crepes with chocolate.

As you can see, I did A LOT of stuff in Paris! I really enjoyed French culture, the people, streets, sights, smells, colors and architecture. I kept daydreaming about different stories and also thinking of people I know who would LOVE this city as much (if not more) than I do right now. It was an amazing experience and even though it was expensive, I do not regret a single cent that I spent.

The interesting thing, though, was I would observe French customs and compare them to those of Spain, as opposed to America. Example: In Paris, many of the cafés will set the chairs outside next to each other and facing out, so the patrons are side by side and looking towards the street as they sip their coffee or whatever. My thought was: “Well in Spain, we crowd around a table and lean in close so as to hear everything and also engage in conversation.” The thing that stood out to me was how I made this comparison to Spain as opposed to my own American lifestyle, as also used the word “we”. To me this suggests that Spain and Granada have definitely become a sort of home for me, a place where I feel comfortable and knowledgeable.

Along with being comfortable, I am a natural navigator and I took the reigns (with some assistance from my good friend Tom) in terms of negotiating travel throughout Paris- which metro lines to take, how to get to point B from point A, etc. It was stressful and exhausting, filled with crankiness and abrupt tones when none of us knew where to go. All of it was the result of us not knowing French (although many people knew English, or were incredibly helpful and made their directions clear to us), not knowing where to go, and being caught in that state of being between awe/wonder and also excitement for the next place. Of course, we found our way and survived, but it was a fun experience to saunter along the streets and under the lights, smelling the smells and soaking up the city as much as we could.

Like I said, Paris was definitely worth every penny that I spent. I long to return and my fascination with French culture, literature, cuisine and film has been reinvigorated with new passion. I’m almost tempted to take up a third language (French, of course) but we’ll see! Several people told me that I look very French and my last name is, well, Belgian (but my ancestors hail from the French speaking region!). So who knows. It’s easy to fall in love with Paris and having been there for a whirlwind tour, I definitely will try to go back to Paris and also explore more of France down the road.

While the whole experience was truly unforgettable and filled with memories that will hold a special berth in my heart and mind for many years to come, there was still something about coming back home to Granada. When I got to Spain, I immediately felt like I knew what I was doing and where I was going. When I got home, that sigh of relief rippled through my whole being, instantly putting me at peace. Yes, there is definitely something about coming home, a “new” home at that.

Click here for more photos!

The Past Month(ish) In a Nutshell

Thu, 29 Sep 2011 19:11:00 +0200

Many of you have been reading this blog (for which I thank you!) and have gotten snippets of what I’ve been doing with my free time and the kinds of experiences that I’ve been having since I’ve been in Spain. I’ve been here for about a month now, and I’ve yet to talk about my schooling experiences. So here goes!

The nutshell:

Arrival in Granada followed by placement exam to gauge language proficiency. (I got a 5 out of 9, which is “intermediate”, about what I expected).
Placement into a class of 12 international students, all at the same level.
Class every day, M-F for 4 hours in the morning.
2 profesoras (female teachers)- they each took a 2 hour session, with a break between sessions.
Minor homework requirements (usually parts of worksheets)
Final exam at the end of the month (today!) where we get the chance to kick some butt.

Overall this past month was a good experience. I learned a lot, had a lot of fun in class, and made some great friends, which puts me in a good spot going into the regular semester which starts next week Thursday. (More on that next week, of course).

The biggest thing I was wondering about before coming to Spain was the teaching style. I knew my class this month would be small, very much like at Lawrence. I’m not sure what I was expecting in terms of teaching, but I have to say my experience hasn’t been too different from that of America. Basically the teacher talks about the concepts, explaining them through written examples and figures on the board, or exercises from the internet/youtube. Followed by class discussion and practice exercises. I know that I was expecting some cold shoulders from the teachers for some reason, but both of my profesoras were wonderful and loved getting to know all of us. Many a day we would joke around and have a good time while also learning, which was definitely a relief.

The surprise for me was having worksheets again. I haven’t had worksheets since I had substitute teachers in high school (which was rare enough) and that was new for me. There’s nothing wrong with worksheets, but for me they’ve always been associated with ‘busy work’ and not actual learning. Of course, they helped and were good tools for studying, but it’s not something I’m used to.

Overall, the Spanish classroom experience is not a far cry from back home, which is comforting. However, I’m curious to see how things change (if at all) when I start the regular semester. Stay tuned….

The Alhambra

Fri, 23 Sep 2011 19:51:28 +0200

As you can tell from my earlier posts, Granada is a gorgeous European city, filled with plazas, little shops, great restaurants, tapas, wine and amazing people. Art is everywhere and there’s this happy and content attitude amongst all the people here. Among all of this great ambience and such passion for life is structural beauty. Many of the buildings are gorgeous, the cathedrals are magnificent and the plazas are a great reprieve from the daily grind.

However, one place stands out far from the rest and that’s the Alhambra, which sits atop one of the mountains, right here in Granada. If you didn’t know, Granada was the capital of the Moorish Kingdom that spanned throughout the Iberian Peninsula back in the 14th century, before the Christians swooped in and pushed the Moors out. The Alhambra is the royal palace and let me tell you, it’s truly something to behold.

After climbing up a huge hill and sweating something fierce in the Granadian warmth, the sights that the Alhambra offered were truly astounding. The Alhambra is a sprawling estate complete with some of the most gorgeous gardens I’ve ever seen. When I walked through these gardens, I kept thinking “this is what the Garden of Eden must be like”, which is ironic given the Moorish history of the gardens, but they were that stunning I was baffled. There was so much green, so many flowers, and so many fountains. The thing that left the greatest impact on me is this: the Generalife (the gardens) has fountains that are supplied by the natural flow of water coming to the city from the surrounding Sierra Nevada mountains. There’s one particular fountain that still retains it’s original tube system from the 14th century, and it operates without pumps. It’s AWESOME! A true engineering marvel that was completed in the 14th century. And to think that today we use computers and calculators to do something that the Moors were able to do without the need for these technologies. I’m astounded. I love it.

After the gardens, we moved our way through the different aspects of the palace itself. Going through all of the rooms, the outdoor theatre (which has the BEST acoustics I’ve ever heard) and seeing all of the vistas of the city. All of the rooms had intricate designs on the wall, mosaic in the floor, arabic phrases carved into friezes and great views of the city. It was truly a place to visit.

As I made my way through the visit, sort of listening to our guide talk (she was speaking in Spanish- all of which I understood) but mostly taking in the gorgeous views and observing the place for myself, I kept thinking (in my oh so English Major way) what it must’ve been like to live in the palace, or even to visit it as a member of court. What decisions were made while looking out these windows, what arguments were had at these romantic fountains, what joy was expressed at the door? I ended my visit standing at the highest poing in the palace, upon a bastion in the wall protecting the palace, looking out over the city and to the mountains. SO COOL!

History is fascinating to me, and I love to soak in the detail of a new place while inferring about it’s past. I’m glad there’s such an appreciation for places like the Alhambra, because without it, I feel like we would lose a beautiful point of reference.

To look at more pictures, click here!

Vibrant Whisperings

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 22:43:40 +0200

I’ve always had this belief that the arts breathe life into who we are as people. The reason being that art, as a form of expression and creativity, allows us to ask new questions and explore who we are as people. The ‘we’ being the individual artist, a group of people that share a similar belief, or society as a whole, to name a few.

For me, my art has always been writing and stories. I retain this bubbling sense of energy and excitement from reading and writing, it reenergizes me and gives me yet another voice to use for expression, education, exploration or simply staying occupied. It’s something that keeps me rolling, and is my way to relax amidst the stress of being a college student. I like to believe that this is true for all of us- we all have something that makes us tick and tock like a well-made watch. And for many of us, I believe it’s art in the general sense.

In my time here in Granada (and Spain in general) I’ve noticed that art is EVERYWHERE. Not only is Spain home to Calatrava, Gaudí, Picasso and a plethora of other world-renowned artists, it is also a place that breathes art. Obviously art comes in many different forms- architecture, food, paint, writing, theatre, dance…. and so much more. Spain, as any other place in the world, has all of these. Yet something that I’ve not failed to notice in my meanderings around town is graffiti and street art.

The thing about the art I’ve seen around the city is there’s this pervading sense of an inner voice, yearning to be heard over the grinds of society. A voice that is tiny but mighty, one that at times may be ignored or overlooked or simply lost in a sea of background sound. To me, it’s the voice of the people (cliche as all of this may sound), and the art I see around town reflects the hopes and dreams, the questions, or the annoyances of these people. Or so I like to think.

Granada is filled with vibrant whisperings of this voice, leaping out from the endless expanse of the city, and catching the new eye unawares. As I wander around the city, past the art that I see every day on my way to school, and stumble upon new pieces of art splayed across walls, written in a quick hand, or carefully painted with a penchant for detail, I find myself wondering if the artwork does anything to provoke any sort of change. Of course, it does something for the individual(s), but does it help anything else?

I asked my Spanish flatmate José what he thought about all of the graffiti and artwork around the city. His response was answer enough: “I’m used to it. It’s everywhere and I’ve been around it my whole life.” Which leads me to ask a new question: How do we evaluate art and on what basis do we allow ourselves to extract some level of inspiration that leads to action? Or, rather, has art simply become a method of expression that leads only to aesthetic pleasure and intellectual stimuli, as opposed to a medium that comments upon who we are as people and eventually leading to change? (Loaded question, I know.)

For a view of my pictures from Spain, including an album of street art, click here!

Vacationing...?

Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:30:03 +0200

Over these past 20 years, I’ve had the fortune to travel with my family, and also independently. Each trip is special in it’s own way and I’ve grown to love exploring a new place and culture in another part of this huge (yet increasingly small) planet of ours. However, it’s one thing to travel somewhere for a vacation, and an entirely different experience to go there and actually live there.

I’ve been here about two weeks now, and it still has not ‘sunk in’ that I’m here for four months and not a few weeks. I have a regular routine that revolves around class and homework (right now it’s 4 hours of class each morning), meals with my flatmates, and time with friends. Essentially, I’ve transplanted my Lawrence lifestyle into that of Granada. The only difference is I now use Spanish as often as I can, eat Spanish food, and wander around a big city as opposed to the tiny Lawrence campus.

Granada is a large place, about 300,000 people live here, and the university is spread throughout the entire city. It’s all walkable as well and each morning I walk for about 30 minutes to get to class. Since I’m walking everywhere, I see so much more of the city which is exciting and opens up tons of new doors for me. And this is where the ‘vacation’ mode comes into play.

Back at Lawrence, I work hard and spend time with friends amidst my various campus commitments, but rarely do I venture into Appleton. There isn’t a need to, as everything that I would want (other than a wide selection of groceries, restaurants and other necessities) is right on campus. Here in Granada, I don’t have much homework right now, but I have lots of time to explore the city and take in the sights along with the company of good friends. With all this free time, I feel this compelling urge to do as much as I can and see as much as possible, almost as though I were vacationing somewhere and only had two weeks to learn about the place.

I feel like this is a common thing with students when they study abroad, too. When I first arrived in Madrid, my friend Tony couldn’t get over the fact that “We’re in Spain!!” And, quite frankly, neither could I! We definitely felt as though we were on vacation, and sometimes we still do. I guess, with more time and the advent of my five classes will bring a fresh change and an end to this ‘vacation’ of sorts and it will finally sink in that yes, I am here.

Chilling in the Plaza

Mon, 05 Sep 2011 15:35:00 +0200

The thing about Spain is, as far as I’m aware, they’re the least productive 1st world country. Quite frankly, I’m not surprised. People here are pretty lazy, but in a good way. [Sidenote: there has been some disagreement with these first two statements. I want to be clear that I am aware that Spain is still quite industrious, although they’re regarded even by Spaniards as among the least productive. Further, my use of the word ‘lazy’ is not a perfect fit for the state that I wish to describe, yet I struggle to find a more accurate depiction.] Here, people eat small breakfasts in the morning (basically a piece of toast, an apple and a cup of coffee), followed by a big lunch at about 2:30 (by which time you’re dying to eat anything at all), and then a small dinner at 9. After lunch, many places close down and people go home to sleep for an hour or so and rest during the famed “siesta” (or nap). Unlike the ever-productive America, Spaniards know how to moderate their stress and find ways to relax.

One such way to relax, other than the siesta, is to meet friends for drinks at a tapas bar or plaza. They calmly sit back in their chairs, dressed nicely and slowly nursing their Tinto de Verano (summer red wine), beer or sangria as they snack on healthy portions of food like fish, ham, sausage, cheese and olives. The emphasis is placed not so much on the food, but the exchange between friends, lovers, family or coworkers as a way to play a more active role in each others’ lives. They’re not preoccupied with getting back to work on time, or any other concern, merely with spending time together.

In America, we work long days, come home and do nothing. Some people watch tv, others sit on the computer, and still others do some form of work (cleaning, organizing, etc) or exercise as our way to cope. Rarely do we go out with friends during the week, only on the weekends. And still, America is one of the most stressed-out nations, which is a contributing factor to binge drinking’s popularity in colleges, weekends are a whirlwind of events, and Americans generally tend to overeat. Why can’t we just take a little more time off work, meet with friends old and new, and just talk over a beer on a Tuesday afternoon? If we did, I think our lives would be a little bit happier and satisfying than they already may be.

This past week...in a nutshell

Mon, 05 Sep 2011 14:35:10 +0200

For the past week, I’ve been on the road for much of the time- leaving me sporadic internet availability, hence the lack of a blog update recently. So… to make my family happy I’m gonna give a brief overview of what I’ve been doing since I arrived in Spain!

Days 1&2– Madrid

Madrid is, obviously, a very beautiful city. But it’s also SUPER HUGE. As in, 5 million-ish people huge. Our hotel was in a downtown part of the city, very close to el Museo Reina Sofía, where we got to see some Picasso and Goya. The most awesome part was we got to see Guernica! Unfortunately I couldn’t take pictures, but it was definitely something to behold. We later moved on and went to the Palacio Real (Royal Palace) which was incredibly amazing, as so many important things happened there over hundreds of years. It was a gorgeous palace (alas, no pictures of the inside) that basically fits all of my wildest dreams of what it would be like to be a king. AWESOME! Other than those two places, we had a tour of the city by bus, and lots of free time to walk around (I saw la Plaza Mayor y Puerta del Sol) and sample tapas with some drinks. I plan on going back for another visit at some point soon!

Day 3– Toledo

While Madrid was pretty awesome, I actually liked Toledo so much more. The city was gorgeous with beautiful stone buildings in the hills, filled with small cobblestone streets that are lined with tiny stores and restaurants. It’s a peaceful little place filled with so much history and one of Spain’s oldest cathedrals. We didn’t do a whole lot, except go for a 3 hour walking tour that featured some of the local cathedrals. It was fun!

Day 4– Granada

After Toledo, we came to Granada! That was last Wednesday afternoon. Since I’ve gotten here, I’ve gone walking throughout different neighborhoods in the city, in the midst of going to meetings for my program. Granada is a beautiful city surrounded by mountains and olive trees. There is so much art/graffiti and there are many wonderful people. The food is deliciously Mediterranean and typical Spanish, which makes the tapas really good! And with that, the tapas comes free when you buy a drink at a pub! At first I was worried that since Granada is pretty small, that I’d run out of things to do. Yet all the while, there’s definitely more to do and I look forward to more explorations!

I started classes last Friday, and that’s also really good. My program has a one month intensive language course, where I go to class every day for the month of September for 4 hours. The classes are small (10 people in mine, much like LU!) and are taught by 2 professors (2 hrs each). Essentially it’s Spanish classes in America where you review and learn a lot more about the language. It’s going well so far! At the end of the month, the regular semester begins and I’ll switch into 5 different classes which I’m excited about. So that’s my time in Spain thus far! Stay close for more updates…

Also, I’ve posted more pictures!

A Smattering of First Impressions

Sat, 03 Sep 2011 20:31:28 +0200

Leading up to last Saturday, I was really worried about Hurricane Irene blocking my way to Madrid, and thankfully this was not the case. The airport in Charlotte was running as usual, with the only cancellations being flights to NYC and Jersey. While I left on time, I would’ve loved to have seen the clouds from the plane, but there was nothing in sight for me.

Walking out of the Madrid airport after an overnight flight, the heat coats you as though you’re stepping into a warm bath, and it’s comforting as it reminds you of home. But unlike a bath or Wisconsin’s weather, this heat doesn’t have any humidity or make you feel like your skin clings to your clothes. While I like to say I’m a guy that enjoys a nice sweater and great fall weather, I gotta say Spain is already sticking with me! :)

Our first few days were spent in Madrid and Toledo- two beautiful cities. Madrid is SO huge, and I only got to see a small portion of it, but I enjoyed it. I had my first tapas (salmon on bread with a cream cheese sauce) and my first legal beer there. Tapas are wonderful for the great taste, small portions and availability literally everywhere. Although everything is very expensive, I hope to visit again someday!

Toledo was equally as awesome, although more so I think. It’s a beautiful city in the hills, with ancient stone walls and buildings. Home to one of Spain’s oldest cathedrals that took roughly 500 years to build. Wooo boy is it gorgeous!

The countryside between Madrid, Toledo & Granada smacks of something of the American Southwest- lots of sand, stone and bushes of different sorts. One thing was new to me though, and that’s the endless sprawl of olive trees, and these olive trees know no bounds as they are EVERYWHERE! Stretching for miles in every direction as far as the eye can see, covering mountains and surrounding houses. No wonder everything is cooked in olive oil! And hey, I’m not gonna complain.

So, needless to say, Spain is going well so far! I’m settling in in Granada, and will publish another blog again soon that will hopefully feature a few more thoughts and experiences. I hope you enjoy the blog thus far!

Leaving on a Jet Plane!

Fri, 26 Aug 2011 00:49:22 +0200

In what seems like no time at all (this Saturday, in fact!) I’ll be boarding a big ol’ plane in Chicago with my friends Tony and Kelsi, bound for Charlotte, North Carolina. Unfortunately Hurricane Irene is planning a date with the East Coast and we’re not sure how that’ll affect our flight, but we’re hoping it’s just a short delay… In any case, by 6:30am on Sunday we’ll be in Madrid, Spain!

I’ll be in Spain through the end of December, studying at the Universidad de Granada. It’s a HUGE university about the size of UW-Madison, and I’ll be studying at their Centro de Lenguas Modernas (Modern Languages Center) with other international students throughout my time there. All of the classes will be taught in Spanish and I’m SO excited! I’m going to live in what’s called a Residencia, which is basically a house with 3 apartments in it. The host mother and her 16 year old son live in one apartment where they cook meals for the entire house and do laundry. The other apartments are filled with women and men students respectively. I’ll mostly be with Spanish natives and a sprinkling of international students, which will be great.

When I get to Madrid, I’ll have a city tour and orientation stuff, followed by a stop in Toledo on our way down to Granada a few days after I arrive. Should be pretty nifty! While my Spanish isn’t bad and I can hold a pretty decent conversation, there is still much to be learned and improved upon, which leaves me slightly anxious and nervous. Despite these feelings, I’m really looking forward to diving into the experience and the culture like the most perfect olympic divers. It’ll be a challenge but I look forward to it!

In the mean time, I’ll keep updating this blog as much as I can. Ideally I’ll stay away from ‘travel log’ type entries and instead focus on some of the bigger questions that might arise from my experiences. I aim to broaden my perspective of the world (not that it’s by any means narrow) and really map the effects a semester abroad can have.

I hope you all enjoy my blog and I look forward to hearing from you! You can leave comments here, follow me on facebook or email me. Chau!