Andalucia

Cadiz Carnaval
The boat from Rota to Cadiz
Carnaval costumes; myelf, Paula, Dave, Miguel
An afternoon of Tapas in Malaga
Malaga cathedral

I haven’t written in a while, but the main reason behind that is probably because school has intensely heated up, I went on a five day vacation, and I somehow get to the end of each day wondering where it went. Bad organization of time? Certainly could be. Going to make it a point to try to start getting up earlier; 9:00 just doesn’t cut it, although it is very difficult due to living with four other people. One thing I’ve really come to learn/realize is that no, in fact, I do not function well without sleep. This includes my ability to speak a second (and third-Euskara) language. This needs to become my priority, but I can’t always control the noise decibel in my piso :(. Hmmmm…in the last fifteen days…..

Two weeks ago, I randomly made plans to visit a friend of a friend in Southern Spain. As I don’t have class on Fridays, and we were given Monday and Tuesday off of the following week due to Carnaval, I decided that I needed to treat myself to a vacation. So, after getting to know this friend-of-a-friend, Dave, through email, we decided to meet in Málaga. I know, I know, Mom, meeting someone I don’t know in a foreign country? My justifcation: better than traveling alone, and I trusted my friends from home J. Turns out, David’s grandmother lives in Southern Spain, in a town called Rota, which was just a short boat ride from Cádiz, where it just so happens that one of the most infamous Carnaval celebrations in Spain occurs each year. Perfect!

After class on Thursday, I booked it home, threw my way-over packed backpack on my back, and speed walked to the bus station, about fifteen minutes from my piso, in the part of Donosita called Amara. I boarded the bus, and immediately…..started doing homework. What’s wrong with teachers these days? Homework over vacation? A presentation, and two tests the day we get back? I just don’t understand teachers sometimes…………….:) Yet, I do. My bus ticket took me straight to the Bilbao Airport, dropped me off in front, and I checked my baggage into the Vueling Airline, and gave a half hearted attempt at doing more homework before boarding and sleeping the entire hour and half flight. Beautiful thing sleep is; and I can’t help but sleep in a moving vehicle, boat, plane, etc. It’s just innate I think.

I arrived at the Málaga Airport, hopped in a cab, and chatted up the driver on the way to Picasso’s Backpacker Hostal, the site where I would meet this mystery person that my mother was so dearly worried about. I immediately noticed the difference in the Andaluz accent from that of the Basque; something I’m not sure that I would have noticed before interestingly enough. Also, I found myself judging it; as if it weren’t as good as the Basque accent J. I guess I’m starting to look at things from the point of view that I am living here in the center of the Basque Country; turns out it’s a pretty great place. I arrived, and believe got overcharged by the oh-so-friendly cab driver, and checked into the hostal, awaiting Dave’s arrival.

After Dave arrived, we decided to get a bite to eat and get to know each other a little bit, as we’d be spending the next four days together. After a pretty early night, I was overjoyed to find that the top bunk that I had been so graciously left by the Canadian girl on the bottom, included an amazing down comforter. I am going to make an investment when I get home. If I ever go back to Málaga; I stay at this hostal. Sleeping in a room with three other strangers never was better. Got a great night’s sleep and ready for the next day’s adventures. The next day consisted of dodging the rain whenever possible. To do so, Dave and I visited the Cathedral, uhmm…wandered though it I mean, and snapped a few pictures. He got used to my excessive picture taking real quick. We then decided that yes, we did need to visit the Picasso museum, as this was his birthplace. However, as proved to be the theme of the weekend, we first got something to eat. We found a somewhat of a hole in the wall (we thought) until the server spoke English and so did every other person that came in. Oh well, we made it as Spanish as we could; ordering about five different raciones, splitting them, and chatting for about three hours. My favorite part of the meal? The snails J. Nothing like stabbing a snail with a toothpick, dragging it’s body out of its shell and then chewing it. Mmmmm. Really though, delicious!!!! The Picasso tour ended about an hour and a half later, when I decided I needed a nap. It was vacation, right? So, I napped before dinner (I told you we did some eating), and we found a place to eat near the hostal. Here…I had my first taste of Mexican food in a month-chips and guacamole! The night ended young; me with my earplugs and down comforter, snuggled away for a great nights sleep.

Saturday morning, as I fought with my gi-normous backpack that I didn’t need, and Dave diligently carted around his carry-on size rolling suitcase that I’m pretty sure included only two pairs of socks, a couple shirts and a lint brush, he demanded that we trade. I tried to refute, but he wasn’t having it. What a good friend. So, I rolled the suitcase with little in it, while he had thirty pounds on his back. We took a local bus to the airport where we had a rental car “awaiting us.” Or so we thought. Turns out, the reservation Dave had made somehow didn’t coincide with the company, and for sure we got overcharged, especially for the tiny little car that we ended up with. Regardless, we were on a mission to make it to Rota with enough time to catch the boat to Cadiz.

Turns out, our mission first was to find food; naturally. So, as we hit up the highway, we also hit up every closed restaurant at that time of the day. However, once we had pulled into a closed Burger King, we couldn’t get The King off the mind, and were set on fast food; however we could find it. Eventually about twenty minutes away, as we followed a two lane road through little beach towns, and fearing that we were lost, we came across and open Burger King. Shortly after, we found the highway. Only a slight detour though cute little towns. No big deal as we had our BK. It was good too..no lie, the chicken sandwich was legitimate.

After satisfying our hunger, we continued (without a map) to try to find the highway, which we eventually did, after driving through about five little resort towns that line the southern coast. Once we eventually made it to the highway, which didn’t included speed bumps and stop lights that we had been obeying for an hour, it was smooth sailing. The countryside was spectacularly green, and hilly, as one might imagine, with little white housed village dotting the landscape from time to time. We ended up passing though Cádiz, the site of the night’s future festivities, and ended up making it to Rota in just about three hours. Rota is a town of maybe 10,000 people maximum, which lays on the beach, and has a nice, quaint feel to it. We were welcomed to Dave’s Grandmother’s house with of course, lunch (snails again J). Homemade meals. I’ll take ‘em anytime I can. The house is a small three bedroom, open living room/dining room, and a tiny, tiny kitchen. Regardless, the whole family (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmother, etc. ect-people Dave didn’t even know) were very hospitable, and I enjoyed speaking with them. However, we were on a mission to find me a costume, buy boat tickets, and be in Cádiz..in about two hours. The first costume shop we went to, opened at five and people were hovering around outside for the last minute costume. As the doors opened, I went straight to the fitting room while Dave’s cousin and friend shoved costumes in for me to try…we were on a time schedule. What do I end up with? A jester costume? Yeah. Probably could have found something a little more attractive, but I was considering the warmth factor. We headed over to Cádiz on the ferry at 7:30, meeting some other people that they knew. I certainly loved seeing everyone’s costumes, as Carnaval is like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, the big hoo-rah before the Lenten season begins. Or, through an American’s eyes, a huge Halloween in February. Regardless, we arrived with the masses to Cádiz, and first stop. Food stand-what else? This turned out to be a major theme of the evening; fries, hamburgers, doughnuts…etc. things that I would never eat on a regular basis. However, as per one of my instructors, it is the time to splurge….so, well, that’s what we did. We meddled in different plazas throughout the city for about ten hours, finding people everywhere we turned to speak with, and then buy some more food. We stumbled into one of the main plazas where there was a concert, but it was difficult to hear due to the sheer quantity of people that had packed the plaza. Then, we got more food. The costumes were something to be noted, as was the custom. Most groups of friends dressed up in the same store bought costume. Therefore, looking over one shoulder, we would see a group of six chickens, over the other, a group of ten soldiers, behind us, wolves, etc. Regardless of the costume, everyone’s intent was the same. Fun. Ten hours later, however, everyone’s intent was: sleep. But..the boat. We pushed and shoved our way back to the boat to ensure we would make the first one. Heavy eyes and Julie don’t mix. My first thought of bed was about three hours before, and I just can’t get that out of my mind when I know what I want.

Therefore, the 4pm wakeup the next day was insane, but understandable seeing how we didn’t get to bed until 7:30am. I don’t know if I can hang with Spanish hours. We woke up to another lunch J, and the bus station to Sevilla.

We arrived in Sevilla on the 14^th, and Dave met up with another friend, so I was able to treat myself to a Valentine’s dinner of Mexican food. My justification was that there are no Mexican places in Donostia, so I have to enjoy it when the opportunity arises. Then came the banana split….. (still had one more day before Ash Wednesday). Made it back to the room to call it an early night. Dave headed back to Rome the next morning, and I was able to awake, refreshed, and explore once again, the BEAUTIFUL city of Sevilla. I had been there before, in the heart of summer, battling 100 degree weather, and now, I was there in the middle of the worst downpour supposedly they had in like 70 years. Therefore, it was a necessity to buy another umbrella from the man standing outside of Starbucks. For 3 euro, it served me well.

I spent the day dodging the rain, and enjoying time to myself, time to do whatever I wanted to do. I spend several hours in the cathedral, with the largest square footage in the world. I have always been amazed the this cathedral, and had no problem sitting in a pew, saying a few prayers, zoning out, and soaking in my surroundings. This cathedral not only is mentioned in the Spanish textbook that I use in my classroom back home, but also holds the tomb of Christopher Columbus, and is the site of la Torre Giralda (which Maribel and company visit in the textbook). Of course then, I hiked up the Torre Giralda, taking pictures along the way at every window, and arriving at the top to view the city from above. The whole time, I was thinking of my students at home, and how now, I will be able to tell them that I’ve been there and have pictures to prove it. Somehow, I always revert back to them, and all of the new things I will be able to share with them.

After a solo day, filled with a traditional fish lunch, and then allowing myself to get lost in the city, so I would have to ask someone directions (which a really nice lady did, and we walked and talked for about 20 minutes), I once again tucked in for the night. After a Starbucks visit (in which I finished some of the homework I needed to do for the next day), I headed to the airport. The taxista was another overwhelmingly friendly man, and we conversed for about twenty minutes, as we drove through the town, and he pointed out all of the new things that had been built in Sevilla for the World’s Fair in 1992.

Hours of travel made me thankful to return “home” to Donostia, sleep in my own bed, and dedicated myself to setting a routine.

FLOW

Since the trip, I have started, and been consumed by a translation project for the movie documentary “FLOW” (WATCH IT!!!!!). To get graduate credits in one of my classes, two other girls, along with our teacher, program coordinator, and myself, are working together to translate a school curriculum from English to Spanish that will enable teachers in Spanish to integrate this movie into their classrooms. My piece is approximately 50 pages, and our goal is to have it done before spring break….which is about a month away. Although very tedious and demanding, I find it fun in a sick kind of way because of the intriguing topic, and the “puzzle” of figuring out what sounds the best. Although I have been working solely on this project alone for at least four hours a day for the past week, in addition to other homework that seems to get done at the last minute, I have enjoyed jumping in head first and letting it consume me; although it has been consuming my social life.

OUT AND ABOUT

As alluded to, I have not been able to do a whole lot except for translate, eat, sleep, and go to class, however I’ve managed to do a few things. I’ve been out to pinxtos again, where my friend Lisa and I were on a mission to find the same pinxtos bar because we NEEDED to try the mushroom pinxto again. After a half hour of wandering in Gros, we came upon the restaurant, and let it melt in our mouths. This dish is amazing and inexplicable in words; a large mushroom, with a creamy and sweet white sauce, drizzled over foie. We also found ourselves at Aloña Berri, which is mentioned in the New York Times article, “36 Hours in San Sebastian.” We split three pinxtos here. It is difficult to explain the delicacy of pinxtos until you have experienced them for yourself. They aren’t about eating fast and feeling full. They are about taste, conversation, and pure enjoyment. The owner of the restaurant gave us his recommendations, and they were delicious. I am unable to tell you what exactly we ate now, but I can tell you that the owner, and his waiters were very proud of their establishment, and were eager to share their art with us. We shall return again.

INTERCAMBIOS

I now have three intercambios, aka insta friends J. I met with María, the original, again on Saturday, where after a coffee and conversation, we went to a local fish market. It is the little things like this that make me realize how much I take for granted at home. I’d been in this market before, but without her explanation of what was occurring here. She looks at the market as an art, as I’ve learned all Basques do with food, and explained the filleting of the fish, and pointed out how each booth was decorated in their own way, with the fish on display. It really was quite beautiful.

I meet with my second intercambio tomorrow. And, last week, I got an email with information for another one. A third? Why not. So, Ugaitz and I met on Monday at a small café near the Zurriola Beach. He is a 24 year old who has recently graduated, and is in the process of looking for a job, possibly in Madrid, or possibly in San Sebastián. Our time was spent entirely in Spanish, as he says that he has other friends with whom he can speak English. This was fabulous for me; also was the fact that he speaks entirely way too fast, yet I understood every word he said. Anyways, he was easy to talk to and a very nice guy.