Córdoba

Guadalquivir River, looking at the Mezquita and Cátedral de Córdoba

Outside of la Mezquita
Inside la Mezquita
The Cathedral of Córdoba (right) inside of the Mezquita (left)
La Mezquita

Granada

Inside the Alhambra
The Alhambra
Alhambra
Granada
The Alhambra from Mirador San Nicolás

Nerja

Cueva de Nerja (Cave of Nerja)
Aqueducto de Águila (Roman ruin)
Beaches of Nerja
A view of the water....

Sevilla

Flamenco
Real Alcázar
Amphitheatre at las Ruinas de Itálica
Las Ruinas de Itálica
La Catedral de Sevilla

All good things must come to an end...

In search of Mexican food, I instead settled for a caramel flavored coffee beverage, and an egg and bacon sandwich. Being that Cuban is the more dominant food in the state of Florida, this was good enough I figured, as I finished up and headed to buy a Cosmopolitan magazine. Ahh. The good old United States of America. Not sure if it was me, or the language I had been used to hearing for the 5 months I was abroad, but the two times I approached a store counter in the airport, I mis-understood what the cashier asked me (in English), and had to ask them to clarify. Regardless, as I wandered through the Miami International Airport on my all-important mission to satisfy my appetite, I simply couldn´t wipe the smile off my face. I loved knowing how to interact with random people naturally without having to think or adapt to cultural situations. I was happy, fulfilled, and over-joyed to be heading home to surprise my father for Father´s Day. After all, he traveled over 5000 miles to visit me doing what I love, which goes without saying was waaaay out of his comfort zone (but something that he enjoyed), and certainly a first for him. In my eyes, there was no better way to return the love than to come home early and be with him and the rest of my family on Father´s Day, and with my friends for the rest of the summer.

I have a hard time processing what I have done the past five months although one thing that is certain, is that I left happy and having fulfilled a life long dream. To sum it up, I went to Spain on a mission: to live my dream of studying abroad, and to learn more Spanish. Leaving, I now realized that I´ve accomplished so much more, and have changed in so many little ways that make the experience one that has changed my life for the better forever. No, although I didn´t meet the man of my dreams as many had predicted and as I had secretly hoped, I have grown, and in fact, grown up even more. (Well….except for allowing my parents to spoil me during our travels together J hehehe).

In my eyes, life can´t get much better than pursuing a dream while taking a risk, learning, meeting new life long friends, re-affirming the love for the friends who mean the world to me at home, traveling with my best friend Karen in Italy and then with my parents for three weeks while ending the experience traveling solo and learning to appreciate myself and my own capabilities and self worth. Although very difficult at times to be away from home because of all of the exciting things happening in my absence, I am thankful that so many people close to my heart had such memorable changes in their lives since I left home in January.

One of my very best friends from college, Lisa Mispley-Fortier and her husband Craig, gave birth to their son Marcus the day before Easter, shortly after having lived through a memorable time in Lisa´s career, helping guide her Gonzaga Bulldogs to the Sweet 16 for the first time in school history. Another best friend Gib and her husband Adam, survived raising their adorable son during his first year of life, and I was able to be there in spirit and through Skype to watch my ¨first born nephew,¨ grow, and test his mother, with big blue eyes and a bright personality J. In other baby news, I´ll never forget the day, while studying for my last final with my ¨neska¨ Lisa Brown in my dirty piso on Calle Fuenterrabia, when my brother Skyped me and told me that he and Brandie were expecting a baby of their own in September. I never expected to come home counting down the days to meet my first blood niece or nephew, but I can tell you that this has already changed our family forever, as we all anxiously await the arrival of Baby White.

After being home for a month, my exhaustion has somewhat passed, and I am starting to remember little by little all of the places that I visited and the things that I saw. When my Mom left from Lisbon the first week of June, I set off on a journey of my own….to do a little solo traveling for the first (and probably) last time. After a teary goodbye at the Lisbon Airport, I returned to our hotel, re-packed my big backpack, and headed for the metro a few blocks away. I hopped on a bus that took me on an 8 hour ride to Faro, Portugal, where I transferred to another that took me back into España, where I arrived in Sevilla few hours later. Although I had been to Sevilla in February, this time I was determined to make good use of the spectacular weather, which was definitely sub par in February, as in, raining so much that I could hardly take pictures and returned to my room each night with wet socks. I wound my way from the bus station to the cathedral area, and checked into a hostal. I needed the four days in Sevilla to recuperate from the every-two days-new hotel that I had been living for the previous three weeks, and to truly embrace the Andalusian style of life while visiting the majority of places mentioned in the Spanish II textbook I use in my classroom. I spent an afternoon reading in the Parque María Luisa, another visiting the Real Alcázar Palace, and the last proudly figuring out the city bus system and taking one to the Ruinas de Itálica, or Roman ruins, a half hour bus ride outside of Sevilla. Evenings were consumed with the evening paseo, or walk, through the Barrio de Santa Cruz otherwise known as the former Jewish Quarter, a glass of Sangría, and on the final evening, a flamenco show. For having visited Sevilla for the third time, it´s vibrancy aids in the campaign for one of the most beautifully lit cities at night that I have ever visited.

From Sevilla my mission was simple: I wanted to lay on a beach. Given that I was already in the south, I headed for Spain´s infamous Costa del Sol. More specifically, I had chosen the resorty town of Nerja as per Ricky Boy Steve´s suggestions. Upon arrival however, I was confused as to whether I was on the coast of Spain, or in a geriatric community of England. There were so many English people in the town and running the stores and restaurants, that it was impossible to speak Spanish. However, I was fortunate to spend two glorious days on the small, slightly pebbly beaches of Nerja, soaking in the rays, listening to my IPOD, and catching up on some well needed pleasure reading. On a quest for exercise the second morning I was there, I walked several miles to the Cueva de Nerja, a cave discovered in the late 1950´s, that essentially put this small town on the map. En route, I stopped at the Roman Aqueducto del Águila, and of course the grocery store to buy a bottle of lemon flavored 7 UP ish sparkling water that I had become addicted to called Gaseosa, if I recall correctly. I also used this opportunity while staying in a hostal room by myself to tackle the chore of doing laundry in the bathroom sink, a task which I had previously mastered and perfected by substituting normal bar soap with detergent: frugal and functional.

The R & R of Nerja energized me for my final two stops in two of the most well known cities of Spain due in particular to two very historic sites: The Alhambra of Granada and the Mezquita of Córdoba. Staying in the heart of the historic center of Granada, I found it to be different from other towns I had previously visited. It is home to a marvelously restored and protected old town near the cathedral where I let myself essentially ¨get lost¨ because at some point through the wandering of the pedestrian/moped winding without-a-purpose streets, I would end up recognizing a landmark. My first evening took me atop the city to two ¨miradores,¨ or ¨lookouts.¨ One of them had an astonishing view of the extended city itself, and the other looked directly across at the awe inspiring Alhambra. Many, including tourists of all ages intertwined with locals, gathered to share the scenery. It is also told that even President Clinton brought his family to the Mirador de San Nicolás to share with them one of his favorite places in Europe from his traveling days during his college years.

Day two in Granada was a day I had been waiting for. The Alhambra, perhaps one of the most recognized names in historical monuments in all of Spain, awaited me. In fact, it is so frequented that an advance reservation online is recommended to lessen the waiting time. My window to enter the palace was at 3:30. It took about 45 minutes to hike the hill up to the Alhambra grounds, consisting of the Palace of Charles V, the Generalife gardens, and the Alcazaba fort. Originally destined to be a military fort constructed by the Moorish rulers during the mid 14^th century, some portions of the Alhambra were overtaken by Christian rulers during the Reconquista by the Catholic Monarchs in 1492. Infamous for being Spain´s most significant display of Islamic architecture and therefore a UNESCO World Heritage site, this intricacy of the art and architecture of this landmark leaves lasting impressions on all those who visit, including myself. I left the city almost unsure of how to process what I had seen, and trying hard to imagine people inhabiting the Alhambra and being fortunate to live within the walls of such an amazing place.

The last stop of the my solo adventure before heading back to Madrid to hop on a flight home was Córdoba, for no other reason but to visit the Mezquita, the images of which clutter every guidebook and textbook related to the Spanish language and/or history. I reserved a hostal that was none other than steps away from the enormous walls of the Mezquita. Although not much else drew me to the town, I did enjoy the Casco Histórico, or old part of town, which was home to a fabulous Andalusian meal consisting of the Córdoba version of Gazpacho, Salmorejo, a cold creamy vegetable type soup. Being that my one full day in Córdoba was a Sunday, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and visit the Mezquita by attending mass in the Catédral de Córdoba, or the cathedral that was constructed in the center of the Mosque during none other than the Reconquista. During the mass, I had to keep reminding myself of where I was, and with one glance to the left or right, it was simple to see the architectural beauty of both the Moorish and Christian influences. With my prayers being said, I left the Mezquita, bought an ice cream, and set on its steps to reflect upon the experiences I had been through. I was fulfilled. I had traveled for five weeks living out of a suitcase after living abroad for four, visited some of the most famous cathedrals, landmarks, and cities in Western Europe, traveled with family and friends, and accomplished something I´d always wanted to do. It was time to go home. It was time to return to my ¨other¨ life back home, and see the family and friends I love so much, and to begin to mentally prepare for my other love besides traveling: teaching.

Aventuras con mi madre

Lisbon Trolley
Lisbon, Portugal
Barcelona´s Parc Guell (Gaudí)
Lunch outside of the Sagrada Familia (Barcelona)
Barcelona´s beaches!
Monasterio de Yuso, San Millán de la Cogolla

After shipping Dad off from Bilbao, Mom and I set off to explore together. After the bus ride to and from the Bilbao airport, I was lucky enough to get back on ANOTHER bus, all before two o´clock in the afternoon in the same day, en route to Logroño, the capital of La Rioja, situated southeast of the Basque Country. As this was to be my first time in this region, I was excited for something new, although as I´ve learned, even visiting places several times, there is always something different to see. Somewhat off of the tourist path except for its production and therefore capital of the wine country in Spain, I had a different motive for visiting and fortunately was able to drag my Mom along for the ride.

In one of my classes in San Sebastián, we learned about two monasteries in San Millán de la Cogolla, about an hour and a half outside of Logroño. Although signs for monasteries litter the highways along the ¨route of the monasteries¨ in La Rioja, two in particular stand out in my mind as very important. San Millán de Yuso and San Millán de Suso attract a certain type of person from around the world, me being one of them. It was here that the first written word of Spanish and Basque were found, and they are therefore known as the ¨cradle of the Spanish and Basque languages.¨ Upon arrival in San Millán de la Cogolla, our first mission was food, which still remains one of the best surprises of our trip together. Being that there were only several restaurants in the small town, we entered the first, and ordered the menú del día. For ten euro, we were treated to a fabulous three course meal which we unfortunately had to scarf down, and hand the money to the confused waiter as we were running out the door to arrive on time for our tour of Suso. We spent the afternoon wandering through the monasteries surrounded by green rolling hills, gardens, and a peaceful silence that attributed to the special feeling that we were somewhere that unfortunately not many people are informed about.

Two nights in Logroño, and having visitied the monasteries called for a change in scenery and on to anther region…Cataluña! The Spanish bus system was once again lucky enough for us to grace it with our presence for the six hour bus ride to Barcelona. After a late night, getting lost in the maze streets near La Rambla, heading down a somewhat sketchy street in which I told my Mom to not talk, just look forward, and walk, we found our way to our hotel. La Sagrada Familia, Parc Guell, la Catedral de Barcelona, and the infamous Barcelona beaches, in addition to tapas (not pintxos) made for a full two days in Barcelona. To say the least, I think my Mom and I were both exhausted, but we trudged though and made the $44 dollar one way flight to Lisbon, where we stayed until her departure. My first trip to Portugal, the land of my Mom´s maternal grandparents, made for a great end of our trip together. Although we originally discussed visiting the Azore Islands, where her grandparents were from, we were glad that we opted to save that for another trip someday as the destination spot, instead of cramming into our two week stint. In Lisbon, we did the Rick Steve´s guided walking tour of the downtown area, took a San Francisco-ish trolley up to the Miradouro de Sao Jorge and then continued to Castelo de Sao Jorge, visited the Monasterio de San Jeronimo, the Coach Museum which is the home to horse drawn royal buggies from throughout the centuries reminiscent of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman style (am I dating myself here?) and amongst many other things, did a side trip to Sintra, where we visited a Disneylandish palace, and relished our last day together.

After being on my own now for a few days, I am able to reflect upon the amazing experiences that my parents and I shared together, and am so thankful for the sacrifice they made to share this with me. They are memories none of us will ever forget!

The Parentals in Europe, más fotos

Me and my town.....
Dad´s farewell from Spain!
María Cristina Statue in Amara San Sebastián, Spain
Do we really need a picture of us with coffee Mom? We were all pictured out....

The Parentals in Europe, más fotos

Mom and Dad holding their hats at the Wind Comb sculpture in San Sebastián
Sunset over San Sebastián
On the way to the cider house!!!
The Whites eating Pintxo´s in the Basque Country!
San Sebastián town hall

The Parentals in Europe, más fotos

American Cemetary at Colleville, Normandy, France
Dad and I on Utah Beach
Dad in a German bunker on Pointe du Hoc
Utah Beach
Sainte Mére Église

The Parentals in Europe

Bayeux Cathedral
Scenery in Bayeux
Mom and I at the Eiffel Tower
Dad and I at The Louvre
In front of Notre Dame Cathedral

Since school ending around the 14^th of May, I have officially started my summer vacation with a bang! I took an overnight bus ride from San Sebastián (11 hours) to Paris to meet my parents after not having seen them for about four months. We met at our hotel on the outskirts of Paris, with me anxiously arriving several hours before them. Once they stepped foot in the hotel, I could see the relief on their faces that they had finally arrived and were done with traveling for the time being. I was very excited for them to come, as this was both of their first trips to Europe. Funnily enough as we were taking our first picture together outside of our hotel, my Dad commented on the weeds growing by a tree, saying ¨Hmm… we have the same weeds at home.¨ Leave it to my father the rancher to notice the weeds in Paris. We used Rick Steve (travel book) as our guide here. We hit up the major hotspots such as the Eiffel Tower, where we took an unmentionable number of pictures much to my Father´s dismay, toured the Notre Dame Cathedral, and walked along the Champs Elysee, ending at the Arc de Triomph. The language barrier was difficult for us all in France, as none of us have any idea and we continually felt like we were being yelled at by French people; which is all part of the fun! We were there for two days before taking a two hour train to Bayeux. But wait, not before venturing through the Paris subway system with all of our luggage!! My father kindly reminded my mother on several occasions that she had overpacked J. One of my favorite images was my Dad on the Paris subway with his Steve Irwin hat on, and his Wranglers, keeping his composure. Not his typical environment, but he throroughly enjoyed himself, as did my Mom and I.

Convincing my Dad to go to Paris was easy because we let him choose wherever he wanted to go after that. Being a big WWII history buff, he has always been enthralled with the D-Day invasion of the Normandy Beaches. We arrived in the small town of Bayeux, and checked into a bed and breakfast, and explored the town on foot. We had some excellent crepes and galletes (crepes with real food, not dessert food on them), and sampled the local calvado drink, as well as cider. The cathedral, especially for the size of Bayeux, was astonishing, and rose above the rest of the buildings in the city. One of the most impressionable days of the trip thus far for me, was the day we did the WWII D Day tour. My Dad was more excited than a kid on Christmas, and seemingly knew just as much as our very knowledgeable tour guide, and certainly did not shy away from asking questions. There were seven of us on the tour, and we visited the town of Sainte Mére Église, the first town liberated by the Americans, Utah Beach, Pointe du Hoc, and Omaha Beach before ending the tour at the American Cemetary at Colleville. One additional stop we made along the way was in a small village (population 56) called Angoville which is known for two American medics that saved 81 American and German lives. It was the remarkable story of the two men, who at the ages of 19 and 21, one with one day of medical training, and the other with three weeks, who were able to not only survive the circumstances, but save lives. They made the church their makeshift hospital, and today, you can still see blood on the pews from the injuries sustained by the survivors in 1944. There is much more to the story, but this will be something that I will always remember, as often times the personal stories of the men who put their lives on the line are forgotten.

Leaving Bayeux, we took the train back to Paris, where we had to connect to the other train station. Thought we might have our first major meltdown at St. Lazare, as we had all of our luggage, and the metro cars were packed. We had to wait for about two cars at each stop to go by before there was room for us. Eventually, we shoved our way on, made it to the train station across town, and settled in for the overnight haul to Irún, España. We arrived early morning in Irún and took the local train to San Sebastián, where I felt like I was coming home, and eagerly anticipated showing my parents where I had been living. I first had wanted to show them towns around San Sebastián, but then realized that Donostia has so much to offer it wasn´t worth the effort to leave. Additionally, the weather was incredible, at about 80 degrees farenheit everyday we were there. I showed my parents the ropes of pintxos, visited my university and my apartment, took them to a cider house, swam in the Bay of Biscay (my Dad had to get his daily laps in), hiked Monte Urguall and Igueldo, played the role of tourist while hitting up all of the tourist shops for souveniers, and enjoyed the lasting memories that I had created over the semester in the town that I consider one of the finest in Europe. I enjoyed seeing my parents attempt to speak Spanish, and do a good job at it, and leave McDonalds each day puzzled as to why they got a free donut with their coffee (hint, there is a poster on the window that says coffee/donut 1 euro J). On Wednesday morning, I accompanied my father to the airport in Bilbao where once I paid for my two overweight bags that I was sending home with him (while he only had his duffle bag…Dads are great; they do anything for their daughters), I hopped back on the bus to Donostia to meet my Mom back in San Sebastián and begin our adventure together.

Mikel teaching Danny how to make cod.

The USACers
Bautista and Mikeli
More of Mondragón, or Arrasate (in Basque).

Endings and New Beginnings

Our feast at the gastronomical society
Mondragón (Arrasate), España
My classmates and teacher Natalia (2nd from left)
Mari-Mar, my 20th Century Spanish Teacher
Natalia and I

5/15/10

It is not AGUR, it is GERO ARTE. (It is not ¨goodbye¨, it is ¨ see you later.¨)

One of my favorite things in life to do is reflect when something is over, o sea, when another ¨chapter¨ comes to an end, which of course if just the beginning of something more. This past week, I have the opportunity to do just that. It has been a truly amazing period in my life, and now I´m ready for SUMMMMEERRR! (Sorry for those of you at home who still have a few weeks left….)

First things first. I am leaving for Paris this evening to meet my parents in the morning. I will be taking the bus from San Sebastián to Paris….11 hours. Thank you Spain for making me procrastinate and not buy my train ticket. One thing that I always realize when I travel, is how much my friends and family mean to me. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, in my opinion because it makes communication more difficult, and we are forced to express more sentimental things because words are all we have from this far away! I have always discovered this to be true throughout my travels, or moving away to go to school. I always return so thankful for all of the people in my life at home. I am estatic to see my parents, and hopefully open up their eyes and hearts to the world, as this is their first time in Europe. Although I had to threaten my Dad with ¨I will hold this against you if you don´t come, because you know this is what I love,¨ I secretly think he is excited to come over and hopefully disconnect from the stresses that work causes at home. Therefore, with this excitement, comes more great family news. On Tuesday, my Mom, the sneaky lady she is, emailed me and told me that I needed to test out Skype with my brother before they came over, so we had a way of getting in contact with him when they are here. So, he ended up calling me and told me to put the video on, ¨to make sure it works¨ and then he says, ¨Have you talked to Mom recently?¨ to which I reply, ¨Yeah, why?¨ He says, ¨Did she tell you that you are going to be an official aunt?¨ Congratulations Jeff and Brandie, you will be great parents again! J As for me, I can´t stop imagining what it will be like to hold my brother´s baby and watch him (My guess is boy) grow. This is truly a blessing for our family.

On to life in Spain….I finished my final exams on Thursday. The rush started on Sunday night, trying to finish a composition on the play, ¨Eloísa está debajo un almendro¨that I read to get graduate credits for my Spanish theatre class. After completing that, I survived Monday, a ¨normal¨ day of class, before taking part one of my Español Avanzado exam, an essay test, on Tuesday. Before class on Tuesday, I spent the morning hours studying for Wednesday´s tests, which continued after class on Tuesday. Wednesday, it was an early morning to ¨refresh¨ my memory before my Spanish Theatre and Seminario tests. Both of these tests required remembering/learning more information that the second half of Avanzado´s test on Thursday. I was a little bit stressed for my Seminario test especially, as it consisted of an oral, reading, writing, and grammar/expression ¨test¨ (what they call multiple choice). As it turns out, I was so excited from receiving the news about my brothers family, as well as receiving my first package from home, 2 CD´s and pictures of my unofficial nephew Eli, right before my first test, that I just did my best…and aced both of them J. Leaving class on Wedneday, I headed to my last day of ¨work¨ with the de la Fuente family. I had promised Helene that I would take her to ice cream on the last day, which we did after her English and Dance classes. The last few weeks, her and I had grown very close, and I was a little bummed to have to say goodbye to her and her family, as they have treated me very well this semester. Ana, Helene´s mother, invited me to stay with them whenever I want this summer, if I make my way back up to San Sebastián during my travels. I told her that I would glady take her up on the offer. I departed with a small gift in hand, typical Tolosa cigarillos (a type of Basque sweet), a handwritten note from Helene, and a seashell from her collection.

Saying goodbye, or ¨geroarte¨ to the de la Fuente family was just the beginning of having to do the same to all of the USAC friends I made over the semester, and to my amazing teachers and USAC office staff that fully supported each and every student. The hardest for me was to express in words to Mari Mar and Natalia what they have meant to me personally, and how much I realize the effort and love they put forth into their jobs. I hope that as a teacher I reflect in my daily efforts the passion I have for what I do at least half as much as they do. As Natalia put it, it wasn´t very ¨Basque¨ of her to tear up when saying ¨geroarte¨ to our class, as they typical Basque people easily hide their emotions. I can only hope that I can keep in contact with both of these amazing women for a long, long time.

Finals week ended on Thursday, and Friday, the first day of summer was without disappointment. Mikeli, a 22 year old Swedish student in several of my classes, and a talented singer, participating in the Orfeón Donostiarra, one of the most respected choirs in all of Spain, treated me and two other classmates to a fabulous day on Friday. Two of her fellow choir members, Bautista and Mikel, two older Basque men, and proud citizens of the town of Mondragón or Arrasate in Basque, a town about an hour driving from Donostia, organized a free visit to Mondragón Cooperación Cooperativa. Before the visit, I had never heard of the business concept, and to be honest, I am still in awe after the visit about how these businesses are organized. It a small nutshell, the organization of these companies in the small town of Arrasate have impacted the way that businesses around the world are run, in that the employees are the bosses of themselves, and is kind of a shared concept. We were met by the president of the Cooperativa, Mikel Lezamiz (he usually doesn´t do tours J) and started with an hour tour of a factory that makes washing machines. We saw how the self organization of the employees at each station, how they are responsible for knowing everyone´s jobs around them, correcting their own mistakes, making sure they are producing at the speed they should be, etc., as well as how every piece of a washing machine is made. This was followed by a powerpoint presentation of their business concepts, a tour of the downtown area of Arrasate, and then my favorite part of the day. Lunch. Bautista and Mikel, Mikeli´s friends, are members of a gastronomical society called Karkabal. In short, a gastronomical society is traditionally for men, a place for them to gather and cook in the kitchen, and eat all together. Women sometimes aren´t allowed in societies, and hardly ever in the kitchen. This is not sexist however, as the societies originated because Basque homes have traditionally been matriarchial throughout history, and men needed a place to have their ¨own space,¨hence these societies were created. Mikel and Bautista treated us at their own cost, to an amazing mean consisting of fresh seafood (anchovies, codfish, shrimp), followed by chuleta (steak), and finished up with pastries for dessert. The tradition is to reserve the sociedad, bring your own food, cook it up, enjoy, and then clean the space, note in the computer what you drank from the drink closet, and be done. As in Basque tradition, our lunch ended up being three hours long, as we enjoyed cooking, talking, a small concert put on by our Orfeón friends, and lasting memories. The men had no other reason to do this except to share their culture and generosity with three American strangers who have interest in their culture. It was, like many others, an amazing afternoon.