Things I've learned on study abroad

First off, here is the promised facebook link for the Cabo de Gata album.

I wasn't really planning on posting today, but I finished my final paper for economics earlier than expected, and I have some time to kill. Anyways, I wanted to do this last year but never got around to it, and it still seems pretty relevant now. Things I've learned from study abroad. This list is going to be in no particular order, and might not be complete. If I think of something else tomorrow, I'll post it.

1. Weather is fickle. This seems basic, even stupid. But you haven't been miserable until you've stood in freezing weather or rain without the proper gear. Always pack your sunglasses, umbrella, and layers. Even if you think you they're unnecessary, there's always that freak rainstorm or hot day.

2. How to read a map. In the age of technology, less and less people know how to read a map, unless it is accompanied by a digital voice telling you to take a right in 500 yards. I can't even count all the times I've been lost in random cities and have only gotten out of that mess because of a map. They are priceless.

3. How to communicate. Obviously, my Spanish has gotten way better here in Spain, but I've also been to countries where I don't speak the language, or speak very little. You'd be surprised how far a smile and body language can get you. In Morocco for example, we didn't speak Arabic, but we were able to more or less communicate and play with a little kid through hand gestures and smiles. In Italy, I used my knowledge of Spanish to figure out what Christina's host mom was saying (most of the time). This, however, doesn't mean you shouldn't attempt to learn at least a few phrases in the language. They can really help if you are lost, hungry, or just need something.

4. Just roll with it. Sometimes your flight is delayed, sometimes a bathroom will just have a hole in the floor, with foot platforms on either side. Sometimes, you find some tentacles in your paella. So what? Why complain. You're alive and probably happy, and have probably had enough to eat in the past 24 hours. Things will work out in the end...

5. Always have a back up plan... or at least an idea of what to do when #4 doesn't work out so well.

6. Drink water when it's available and pee when you can. Sometimes, you're on that flight and although you just drank a whole mini can of soda, they won't be coming around with seconds for at least an hour. Should have hydrated in the airport! Expensive? Bring a reusable water bottle, drink it before security, and then refill it on the other side. Bring drink mix if you don't like fountain water. I think the bathroom part is self explanatory.

7. You won't like everyone, and not everyone will like you. Don't hurt yourself trying to be popular. Life isn't about have millions of friends, it's about have a few friends that love you and making the most of what you've got. There's no point wasting energy trying to make nice with every person you meet. However, don't be a jerk. That's not cool either. Be nice to new people; you could make a new friend.

8. Public transport and how to use it. Like maps, I don't even know how often I've used metros, buses, trains, etc. I literally could not even guess. They are one of the most useful tools ever. Why would you take a $50 taxi from the airport, when you could take the metro for $4? Why walk 45 minutes with a suitcase when you can take a 10 minute train?

9. Don't try to convert currency in your head every time you make a purchase. In fact, try to use ATMs that are part of a network, so you don't get charged. With my Bank of America debit card I can use Barclay's, Deutsch Bank, PNB, and many more without any fees. When  you use the ATM is the only time it's acceptable to convert. Taking out 150 pounds is roughly $250. If you have $1000 to spend on vacation, just remember that it converts to 600 pounds, and make sure you don't go over that. Freaking over one purchase? Think about it in terms of your available (local) currency. If it's worth it to you, get it.

10. Bring medication, so long as it's not illegal. Allergies, motion sickness, stomach problems, and headaches suck big time when you have plans. Bring something that you know you won't react badly to, and use it.

11. Always charge your camera. You don't want to be the loser in the Harry Potter Studio Tour who runs out of battery after Hagrid's Hut (Guilty). This has now happened to me at least twice. Also make sure you bring the right memory card. 1 GB might be too small for a 5 day trip to Morocco...

12. When you're traveling, comfort trumps fashion. Don't try to look like Victoria Beckham on a 7 hour flight. You'll hurt, and people will think you are... well... a word I don't want my grandparents to see if they read this. If you are one of those people who dresses up for a flight like a contestant on ANTM at the final elimination, please go to youtube and search 'Jenna Marbles bitches at the airport' She's a little explicit, but I think you'll understand why everyone's been giving you dirty looks.

13. Good shoes are priceless. I've had friends practically have stress fractures after vacations. Don't do something stupid and only pack flats. At the very least, pack comfy walking sneakers or real sneakers. Yeah, you'll stand out in a crowd of Italians, but you'll also be able to walk tomorrow. If sneakers aren't your thing, make sure you've got comfy boots or other walking shoes.

14. If someone offers you a free breakfast, take it. Unless (and even sometimes when) this breakfast is literally bread and juice, do it. You will save so much money if you don't eat a full English in a fancy cafe everyday. On that note, do try a full english at some point.

15. Try something new, whether it's enticing (deep fried mars bars) or disturbing (Haggus). You probably won't regret doing it, and might find something you really love.

16. You don't need a ton of stuff. This semester, I was determined to come over with just one suitcase. As it turned out, I didn't (everything fit, but my contact solution put it over the weight limit), but I still only brought the same amount of stuff as I would have with only one suitcase. I don't really think I have to explain in depth on this one. You just need (on a basic level, let's not forget the things I've already said) some clothes, food, shelter, and a way to communicate with your family and friends.

17. Always carry a pen. Also bandaids are a good idea

18. Check expiration dates, on both food and documents, such as visas (cough cough Casey Thomas). You don't want to end up with food poisoning 2 days before a trip, or stuck at immigration because the date on your visa was wrong.

19. Wear a watch. At some point, your cell phone will die, or you will at least get sick of digging it out of your purse. A watch is right there on your wrist!

20. See what's around you. You might walk right by an amazing opportunity or something beautiful.

21. Follow your gut. Whether you need to find home or you feel like the situation is sketchy, listen to your instincts. You have them for a reason.

22. Old people are often way cooler than young people. They also generally know more.

23. Do what makes you happy. I don't mean shoot someone if it makes you happy. If you want to sit and listen to Parliament, go ahead. Run up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? Be my guest. As long as you aren't hurting someone else or yourself, it's nearly always worth doing what you like.

Final trip of the year- Cabo de Gata

My time here in Granada is winding down; today is the first day of the last week of classes. This weekend was the last IES trip of the semester, a hiking trip to Cabo de Gata National Park. The hike was pretty tough; it was 9 (or maybe 11?) miles, in sunny 85+ degree heat...up, down, and around mountains, across beaches, all the way to the small beach town of San Jose. I probably drank about 3 and a half liters of water, plus some hydrating solution, and I was still dehydrated as anything by the time dinner rolled around. Oh, and on the ride there, we drove past Western movie sets... yes, like actual western cowboy movies. Apparently The Good, the Bad and the Ugly was filmed in Spain! How knew?

Anyway, it was gorgeous. The water was a gorgeous blue, and you could see straight down through it. The land is very arid, but there are cool palm bushes, agave plants, and cacti everywhere.
The beaches were gorgeous too, with rock cliffs providing a little shade. We even ate lunch on a beach where part of the third Indiana Jones movie was filmed! Seeing as we were on the beach, I also got to swim in the Mediterranean. The water was really cold at first, but was fine once you were in for a few minutes. I even saw two jellyfish! Luckily the water was clear enough that I saw them before they got too close. They were only about 7 or 8 inches long, but someone got stung, so I was careful not to touch them. 

On Saturday, we woke up and went down to the beach to gather for activities. Mine was snorkeling, and I was super excited for it. I'd never been before, unless you count using a snorkel in my grandmother's pool (which I don't). What I hadn't known when I signed up was that I would have to wear a wetsuit, because of the water temperature. It took about 20 minutes for all of us to actually get them on, and then we set off for the marina. 

After a fast and exciting boat ride, we were at the spot, near a quiet cove and a cave. We sat on the boat for a while, while the instructor/leader was getting ready. A few of us got seasick, but I was fine... until I put on the jacket of the wetsuit and zipped up the hood. This hood was super tight, and covered up to your chin to keep you warm. Now, I'm the kind of person who can't even wear turtlenecks because I feel like I'm being choked. I immediately felt panicky and sick, and unzipped it until I was jumping into the water. And suddenly, all of my excitement disappeared. Between the light snorkel breaths and the pressure on my neck and chess, I just freaked. I figured it would go away after a few minutes, but it didn't. By the time we got into the cove, I was ready to take off the jacket and throw it as far as I could. Luckily for me, my buddy and IES leader Lorena was feeling the same way about her wetsuit, so she told the instructor and he told us we could sit on the rocky beach and wait for the company's other boat (there was a scuba dive happening that was almost done) to come get us. We did, and as soon as I had that jacket off I felt much, much better. 

So that was how snorkeling went, or rather, didn't go. In any case, what I saw (some sea tomatoes, rocks, snails, other fish and stuff) was pretty cool, and I don't regret it, and if I ever get the chance to do it again (although without a wetsuit) I will definitely try it. The rest of the day, we lazed out on the beach and swam. That was it, the last trip of the semester. I'll post the pictures later

The 'study' in study abroad

Although I knew from the start that the IES Granada program had a heavier academic load than other programs, but I didn't know that it would be this much. Last spring in London I had so little work that I can remember and recite all of it point blank:

British Art and Architecture: 2 2000 word essays, a midterm, and a final
Drama: Lead one day of discussion, write 6 700 word essays reviewing the shows we saw
British Politics: 1500 word essay, quiz, midterm, final
EU Politics: 1500 word essay, quiz, midterm, final

See? That's it. I literally write more on Twitter. Anyways, this year it's a lot more. This week alone, aside from regular homework, I have a 10 page essay in Lorca, a 10 page essay in EU, a 2 page essay in Art and Architecture, part of my final due for Arab World and the West, and a 30 minute group presentation for Spanish. In addition to this, I have a trip this weekend, taking up two days of study time. And if that wasn't enough, finals start in a week and a half. Then I have to pack and go home.

I think my professors are focusing on the 'study' part a little too much...

Three weeks left!

I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad to be leaving Granada in three weeks. On one hand, I've had fun here and met some awesome people, but I also really want to go home and see everyone in NH. Anyways, here's what happened last week. 

Tuesday was Labor Day, so we had the day off from classes. I originally had wanted to go to the beach, but because of massive amounts of rain, instead I hung out at home, hung out with friends, and got some homework done. Thursday was the festival of Las Cruces (the crosses) and there were tons of crosses, decorated with flowers, scenery, and more flowers all over the city. I spent most of the afternoon at my host sister's school, Colegio Virgen de la Gracia, where they were having a sort of party. My host mom had done a lot of decorating for the cross, including painting the entire backdrop (which looked like one of the patios of the Alhambra) by herself. Sadly, I forgot my camera and didn't get a picture. There was lots of food and people having fun. I'm fairly certain at least 2 children under the age of 14 were drinking beer. 

My favorite part of the festival is that most of the girls (kids) and some of the boys dress up in flamenca, or sevillanas. It's basically adorable and made me want to buy a million of the dresses. 

The coolest thing, though, was the fact that men were riding horses down the streets of Granada. Two of them actually had women sitting side-saddle (style, they were actually behind the saddle) on the back of their horses, in their fancy, tight dresses. Props to those ladies... they are the bravest or craziest women I've ever seen

Italy promises

Once again, sorry about the delay. It's been a bit hectic here with assignments and class and other stuff. I've also been feeling ridiculously unmotivated due to about 3 days of gross cold rain.

So, here is the promised link to my facebook album from Italy

I also managed to upload the video to youtube, so now I can post it on here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxJ8Sp7ZXT4&feature=youtu.be

Le due amiche in Italia

Sorry for the delay in posting, but hey; if nothing else I'm predictable. I've been really busy in the past few weeks (I only have 5 weeks left in Granada) and have had a hard time finding time to post. So that's why this is roughly a week late.

This weekend was my first weekend in Granada (without plans or guests) since the weekend before Morocco, which was the 9-11 of March. Despite the fact that I was travel weary and never wanted to see a plane or bus again, I really did want to visit Christina in Italy, so I did. First off, let me say that my new favorite "budget" airline is Vueling. Yeah, they aren't as cheap as RyanAir, but they let you choose your seat (hello emergency exit/abundant leg space) and they are overall more pleasant. They also fly to decent airports, including the little teeny one in Granada.

Before I get to what we actually did, I would like to begin with a story. You may remember that last year on spring break, the girls and I went (among other places) to Rome, and wanted to see the Sistine chapel, but ended up walking the perimeter of an entire country before realizing that the ticket office (and hence entry) had already closed. The next day was Ash Wednesday, so the only way into the museum involved waiting for roughly four or so hours in line. Already planning to be back this spring, Christina and I promised each other that we would return and see the Sistine Chapel.

Fast forward to February. Christina and I figured out a weekend we were both free, and I booked my ticket to fly into Rome and out of Pisa (she's studying in Siena, which is roughly between the two). I made sure to get an early flight, because we had to make it to the museum. A month later, I received an email from Vueling, saying something my flight had changed:

Basically, this meant that instead of getting to the Vatican by around noon, I would only just be taking off from Barcelona. Fail. Things got even more tense when I got to Barcelona and saw that my flight was delayed by an hour. I called Christina, knowing she would worry whether I told her or not, and she said that we'd make it. I would just have to take a taxi from Fumicino airport (the closest one to the city center, thank God) to the Vatican. My flight landed just before 3, and I made it to the taxi about 10 minutes later. Once in the car, I asked the driver how long it took to get to St. Peter's Square (the closest he could get me) and he said 40 minutes, but changed his answer to 30 when he saw the look on my face. 

And here is where I once again give props to European drivers. Last year in London, homeboy got us to Heathrow in record time (though he probably broke every speed limit doing it), and this guy got me to the Vatican in 25 minutes. Well done, sir. He even asked me if I knew the area and offered directions. I declined, because I knew where I was going and just didn't have time for that. 

So I ran across St. Peter's square, freaking out some Asian tourists and I'm sure making a fool of myself. Finally, I made it to the corner where Christina and I had agreed to meet, and we made it to the museum with less than 10 minutes to spare. We got our tickets, got into the museum, and saw the Sistine Chapel. It was absolutely gorgeous and amazing and so so so worth all the stress it took to get there. 

At this point, I was going to embed a video from facebook. Blogger, however, has gone through some 'upgrades' and doesn't like that so much, so I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow to upload it to youtube and then to here, with the pictures (I hope).

Anyways, after all that excitement we needed a snack, and got some Nutella crepes (both with roughly half a jar of the spread) to eat on our way to the Metro, to get to the bus that would take us to Siena. That was all normal, until I saw a guy wearing an IC tshirt on the bus. I didn't recognize him from anything, and I didn't talk to him, but it was still funny to see. 

We got to Christina's host mom's (Paola) house around 9:30 and she had a delicious dinner waiting for us. I think it involved some salad, some pasta, bread, and meat or something. Really I was exhausted and forgot to journal about the entire trip (fail.) so I don't remember all that well. 

The next day we had a delicious breakfast of fried eggs (over easy, not deep fried in olive oil like Spain's), cereal, and tea and headed out into the rain so I could see Siena. Despite the rain, I really liked it. Siena is a medieval city, because at one point (when other cities like Florence were become Renaissance cities) there was a huge outbreak of the plague and almost everyone died, so they didn't have the manpower (or money, I assume) to update the city. That's fine with me, because it's gorgeous. 

We saw many things, including Piazza del campo, il Duomo, a panoramic view from tower, and the torture museum. Christina also showed me a view of the city's 'contrada'  fountains. Each contrada is an area of the city, represented by an animal. There are: la torre (represented by an elephant), eagle, dolphin (or fish?), unicorn, and a lot more I can't remember. I think there are 17 in all. Each year in the summer, there is a horse race where all of the contradas compete. The winner gets all the glory, and according to Christina's host mom, the contrada's fountain will run with wine instead of water. I'm not entirely sure about that last part, because I have to focus so hard to understand Italian that I sort of miss out on important things, like sarcasm. 

We met up with one of Christina's friends (Emily) to go to the torture museum, which had some of the most morbidly creative things I've ever seen in my entire life. I literally never would have thought of half of the things in there, much less have put them to use! Let's just say I'm glad that I live in the 21st century. Since that really worked up our appetites ok, not so much, but it was lunchtime) we went out for kebabs then bought some wine, cheese, and bread at the supermarket and headed to Emily's apartment to eat. I also met some of her other friends, including one who goes to Ithaca. They were all super nice, and I had lots of fun hanging out with them. 

Sunday morning we got up early, and Christina took the train with me halfway to Pisa, to help me find the train I would have to switch to. I was really sad to leave, but I had an amazing time in Italy, and hope I can get back to Siena sometime soon. 

Also, I will post photos of this trip later. I went to put up a link, and realized that I hadn't actually uploaded them to facebook yet. My internet is being painfully slow, so it may not be until tomorrow or the next day. Ciao!

And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his Cloak of Invisibility.

If you have ever read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, or seen the movie, you should recognize that quote... and you should be able to tell what this post is going to be about. That's right. The Harry Potter Studio Tour at WB Studios in Watford, England, where I got to go 2 days after the Grand Opening. Yes. I was one of the first people to ever see the tour, and I was (and still am, let's be honest) super excited about it.

If you don't know what the HP Studio Tour is, basically it's a tour of the part of WB Studios where the HP movies were filmed (for the most part... some scenes were also filmed in Scotland, London, and Oxford), which included sets, soundstages, props, costumes, and behind the scenes stuff.

When you first walk into the building, the HP soundtrack is playing and you see several props (school trunks and the Weasley's Ford Anglia) and cast pictures (Harry, Ron, and Hermione have 1 per year). There's the gift shop, which is a wonder in itself, and the queuing area for the tour. In that area in the cupboard under the stairs, which is actually a lot smaller than the movie makes it seem.

The tour itself began in a cinema, where you watch a short film about the making of HP, and the tour. I won't tell you exactly what happens next, but from there you go see the Great Hall (also smaller than it looks), the prop house, the back lot, and the creature shop. They even have Diagon Alley and a scale model of Hogwarts! All of these are tremendously cool, and you have almost unlimited time to walk around and see them. I got pictures of everything, which sadly ended in my camera dying in the midst of the creature shop.

In the first big part, they have a bunch of sets- Hagrid's hut, Dumbledore's office, the Gryffindor Common Room and boys' dormitory, the Ministry of Magic Atrium, Umbridge's ministry office, and many more. There's also an abundance of costumes and props. They're amazing. You think that just because they were in the movie, you know what they look like, but they've got way more detail in real life. The Yule Ball table set ups, for example. Also, I will note that Emma Watson may be the tiniest (and by that I mean skinniest) human alive. Her Yule Ball dress is tiny.

Moving on. In the middle of the tour, in case all the excitement was just too much for you, there's a break in the 'back lot' with a cafe. I will admit that I did drink the butterbeer. It was really good, sort of like cream soda but richer and butterier, and the foam was the best part. While I sipped it, I got to see the actual Knight Bus (it seriously is three stories), Number 4 Privet Drive, and the Potter Cottage, complete with hole blasted in the roof. There was also the giant chess set from HPSS, which was awesome.

When you went back inside (to a different lot) you were in the creature shop, where I almost died of fright when I saw the enormous hairy Acromantula hanging directly above my head. Seriously, the thing was easily ten feet across. *shivers* I also got to see Dobby (post knife wound :[) and Bathilda Bagshot, who is ridiculous creepy even when she's enclosed in a glass case, inanimate, and you know it's not real. They also had the actual moving Buckbeak and (nonmoving) Basilisk's and dragon's heads.

The creature shop dumped out into Diagon Alley. I wanted to take a thousand pictures of it, but my camera only pulled itself together for 2 pictures. It was amazing. All the shops were perfect, and they had Ollivander's and even the Weasley's shop.

The final stop within the tour itself was the model of Hogwarts. When I walked in and realized what I was looking at (go ahead, laugh) my heart actually stopped. It was spectacular. It was a perfect model of the castle, and the one they actually used for all sweeping shots of Hogwarts. I can't even describe how cool it was.

Wait, just kidding. That wasn't the last thing. There was also the wand shop, with boxes of wands they used in filming (although some of the wands were on display in the props area), with the actors' names on them. I could have looked around for hours... there were easily thousands of wand boxes in just that one room.

When I finally made it out, feeling like I could pass out from excitement, I wandered through the gift shop, looking for things I might want. And when I say that, I mean looking for stuff that I can afford, since in reality I wanted everything. I saw one couple drop over 400 pounds on stuff for their kids. In the end, I bought myself Tales of Beedle the Bard, a Time Turner necklace, and a Gryffindor hat.

So basically, you should go see this. It's amazing and wonderful and shows you so much stuff about the entire movie series. I would highly recommend it, as long as you bring no more cash than you intend to spend in the gift shop. You might get carried away...


Yup. That pretty much sums it up.

London photos

Whoops. Here's my album

I'm baaack: Semana Santa in London

That's right ladies and gentlemen, I just spent the last week (or so) in London! It was weird and wonderful and I loved it. I hadn't realized just how much I missed London until I got there. Landing in Stansted, an airport I'm very familiar with, was super surreal, and the first thing I did (before catch my easybus) was get a pret sandwich, a Cadbury egg, and some peach tea, since that's not sold in Spain. And before I continue, I will warn you that I probably have to break this trip up into several posts, at least 2 but possibly 3 or 4. probably 3. I've written 34 pages in my journal about it, so we'll just see where it goes.

Hokay, so. I finally got into the city of London, topped up my Oyster, and checked into my hostel, which was in the London Bridge area. Once I had done that, I walked around Westminster, Piccadilly, Leicester, and Trafalgar. I forgot how crowded it was up there and was starting to lose my sanity when I saw a sign: "Mamma Mia! Tickets available for tonight's show" and I remembered that I wanted to see the Lion King. After a quick stop in Chinatown for a meat bun (just as weird and delicious as I had remembered) I ventured to Covent Garden and found the Lyceum Theatre, where the Lion King is showing. They didn't have a sign outside, but I went to the box office and they had 2 tickets left for that night's performance. One was super cheap, but really far back, and the other was more expensive than any other ticket I've bought in London, but still cheaper than Broadway, and I snagged it. More on that in another post (that way you can skip it, Andrea!)

On Saturday morning I woke up, and my hostel room was full. (Don't worry mom, I booked an all girls' hostel). Three of the girls, all of whom were on vacation from Philly, seemed pretty cool, but I had plans for the  day and headed off. After breakfast, I took the tube to Gloucester Road, to get some chai at Caffe Nero, and check out the IC London Centre. Sadly, the ICLC was closed for the day, so I walked to my old neighborhood. It was really strange to see it again- there was a new dry cleaners' and nail shop, and there were little differences that I found strange. I even walked up Gunterstone Road to our corner,  and saw that the dead plant on our old windowsill had been removed, and there were no longer orange curtains.

After that it was too cold to stay outside, so I wandered through the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the Natural History Museum. I probably looked like a total fool, doing all the interactive things at the latter, but I had fun. By the time I was done there, it was getting on in the afternoon and I decided to go to Tesco, to buy some water, creme eggs for the ladies back in Ithaca, and some snacks, so I wouldn't end up going and buying a late lunch and dinner. At some point, the Philly girls came back to the hostel room and invited me to go to dinner with them. We went to a really cool place just around the corner from the hostel, and I had some sort of filo dough pocket with veggies inside. It was really good, and I enjoyed eating dinner at a normal time (this whole Spain eating schedule is killing me).

On Sunday, I woke up to a church procession outside the hostel, and realized that I had most definitely slept through breakfast. Luckily, the Philly girls were planning on doing the same things I wanted to do, and since I was alone and they didn't really know how to use the Tube, we decided to hang out all day. We walked along the river to Tower Bridge, and got a very late brunch in a restaurant on the south bank. I had Shepard's Pie, one of the girls had bangers and mash, and the other two had Sunday roast. All of it looked/smelled/tasted amazing, and was perfect to start a long day of exploring. We walked around the outside of the Tower (they had plans to see it Monday) and then made our way to Embankment, so they could see all the stuff I had done the day before.

While in Leicester Square I bought a ticket to see Wicked, and then we went to Cool Britannia, a giant souvenir store that I knew about from the year before. After they finished their shopping, we ate lunch in Covent Garden, where I had the most massive sandwich I've ever seen. You'd think that a chicken caesar salad sandwich would be smallish, or at least 'lighter' fare. Nope. It had 3 pieces of bread, loads of lettuce, and practically an entire wheel of cheese. Needless to say, after that lunch we decided to take the stairs at Covent Garden instead of the elevators. There are 193 stairs in all, and their ridiculous to walk down. Props to anyone who's ever gone up them.

The next stop was Hyde Park, to take in some sun and walk off lunch. There were tons of roller skaters and also animals. We saw swans, ducks, and even some squirrels that people were trying to feed. We kept walking until we got to Kensington Gardens, and took a look at Kensington Palace. It was gorgeous, but in an understated way. It had a yes-I-rule-you-but-I'm-not-a-snobby-rich-person feel to it, which was nice.

Monday I actually made it to breakfast, and went to the ICLC to see Sarah, Bill, and Claire and also make use of Internet for which I didn't have to pay. It was very nice to see them all, and I was able to get all the info for my next adventure... the Harry Potter Studio Tour. That's a post unto itself, though, so you'll have to wait for it. The tour took up all of my afternoon, but I got back in time for dinner and the showing of The Hunger Games. I had watched it online with Christina when she came to Granada, but it was awesome to see it on a big screen, with high quality audio and video. The movie, like most others, wasn't on the same level as the book, but it was still very good.

Tuesday morning I went back to the ICLC (Claire told me to come as often as I liked for the Internet), then met Lee, a girl I worked with 2 summers ago, for lunch. We went to a cute place in Covent Garden, called Cafe Rouge. It's actually a chain, but I was impressed enough with my steak baguette and French fries that I didn't care. After walking and talking for a while, we got on the subject of American candy, and how much I missed Reese's. She took me to a store that sold all American goodies. I bought some Reese's eggs and a Reese's bar (they didn't have plain cups), Barq's root beer, and chocolate covered pretzels. Like many other things, pretzels are missing from Spain.

Pretty soon Lee had to go, so I met my friend Becca, who is studying at the ICLC, to go get some Ben & Jerry's. Normally I would refuse to pay the exorbitant price of European B&J's, but it was Free Cone Day, so we gave in. I had, as usual, Cherry Garcia, and enjoyed every bite. It's too bad they can't have free cone day more than once a year...

That night I went and saw Wicked, then went out with the Philly girls, as it was their and my last night in London. Wednesday morning was momentous, as I met Ellie and Jen, who both worked at Camp Q with me,  for coffee and hangout time. Jen had to get back home early, but I went with Ellie to her house in Birchington (about an hour and a half train ride from London) and stayed there until Saturday. Her parents and grandma were super super nice, and it was really fun to stay there.

Before we did anything on Thursday, Ellie and I went to the bus stop to get Ellie's American cousin, Rhyan, from the bus stop. Rhyan is an au pair in Germany, and she had a 2 week break, so she was visiting her relatives then going to Dublin. The three of us went to Quex House, a stately home near Ellie's, which also houses a museum. The man who lived there in the late 19th century went on frequent hunting trips to Africa, and brought back his kills to be stuffed. There was even a suit (really like a safari outfit) he was wearing when a lion attacked him. It's all ripped up in the back, where the pinned him down. Apparently, He survived because a)the people he was with beat the lion off him fairly quickly, and b) a folded map or something in his pocket kept the lion's claws from piercing his heart.

Friday morning, we had hot cross buns (Andrea- these were way better than the ones you bought) for breakfast, which is apparently a Good Friday tradition. The cross, I found out, is made of a flour and water paste, not sugar as we who went abroad last year thought. They were delicious, and soon after eating them we  dropped Rhyan at the bus station and went to Canterbury, which is nearby.

Canterbury, I must say, was super cool. Ellie said it was the nearest 'big city' but it definitely had that small English village feel. We wandered around, got milkshakes (Ellie's was skittles flavored!! ) and saw the Cathedral. Normally, you have to pay to go inside, but we were wandering around when we saw a door, which was open and didn't say 'no entry' or anything like that, so we went in. Before we knew it, we were inside the actual cathedral. We even got to see the spot where St. Thomas was murdered while praying.

Friday night we went to the birthday party of Ellie's best friend's little sister, which was very fun. I got to meet all of her friends from home, and was almost convinced by one of them that he was Irish. I figured it out soon enough, but Ellie lovingly made fun of me for it until the moment I left on Saturday.

By noon on Saturday I was back in London, and had checked into a different hostel, this time in Bayswater. It was really weird and I will say that I was glad to only have to stay there one night. After walking around the city one more time (and I mean walking- I went on foot all the way from Bayswater to Westminster) and seeing Chicago, I was more or less ready to head home. I was in the hostel lobby, when a group of guys walked in. They were using the computers too, and one of them, after a few minutes of chatting with his friends in what I think was Finnish, asked me if I spoke English. I said yes, of course, and he asked me a couple of questions about what I was doing in London.

After a few exchanges, he smiled and said 'Wow! Your English is amazing!'  I honestly think I sat there with a blank look on my face, before I recovered from the shock of that statement and managed to say "Well, I'm from America". He replied that he and his friends thought I was from Spain, because they looked at the tag on my backpack and saw my Granada address. I pretty much logged off and headed upstairs right then. I mean, I'm sure my friends and I would totally pull something like that, but never in a million years would we admit it to the other person! Ugh. Creepy.

Sunday morning I packed up quickly, checked out, and got a full English and some orange juice at 'Waffle Palace' in Bayswater. I wasn't impressed, but it was better than eating toast in the hostel basement. After that just got on the bus, caught my flight, and came back to Spain. Just like that, Semana Santa was over. Now that I've been back to London, I want to visit it even more. Hopefully I can get back soon!

Also, I have to just say quickly that yesterday I had a class visit to Generalife, a part of the Alhambra, and I saw the background of my blog. The actual thing. Let me say, the picture does not do it justice.

Stay tuned for posts about shows and Harry Potter

F is for friends who do stuff together

So basically I'm feeling super lazy right now. I just wrote a huge post about Morocco, and I have at least 2 more to write before tomorrow night, plus do all my homework and pack to go visit Christina in Italy. I'm excited, despite the fact that I saw her about 2 and a half weeks ago when she visited me in Granada! Here's the lazy part. I'm linking you to her Italy blog instead of writing my own post. After all, we did both hang out together basically the entire time.

Morocco. Better late than never, right?

So I'm not really sure how to describe my trip to Morocco. It was amazing and awesome and fantastic, but hard to describe. The culture was incredibly different from that of the US and even Spain, but there were elements that were the same. I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to organize this post, chronologically or by topic, but I'm gonna just go with it. I may post the itinerary so you have general idea, but it may be easier to flow from topic to topic. Also, here is the link to my awesome facebook album! I may add more photos to this, or add another link, because there was one day when only 2 people were allowed to take pictures, and I wasn't one of them. But you'll see them eventually.

Ok, so. Morocco.

I apologize if this is less detailed than my normal posts... it's been a while and I haven't really had much time to write about Morocco. So here it goes.

Saturday morning we woke up to the phone in our hotel room ringing for our wake up call, ate a pretty legit breakfast in the hotel, and got back on the bus to drive to Tarifa, the main port for ferries from Spain to Morocco. In Tarifa we met our guide, Jess. She's a visual artist who has been living in Morocco for several years, but has lived in tons of places and is originally from Wales. She gave us a quick orientation on the ferry, and we chose our team name: Team Guay (guay is the Spanish word for cool). Soon enough we could see Morocco, and landed at the port in Tangier

After taking a walk through the market, learning a few Arabic words (llhumdullah is thank God, and shukran [or something like that] means thank you) we visited a women's center called Darna, or 'Our House'. Darna offers French and Arabic literacy classes, and many skills classes to help the women of Tangiers get jobs to support their families. We got our first glimpse of Moroccan hospitality, and were given copious amounts of tea and pastries while talking to a few girls about our age about life as a woman in Morocco. We ate lunch there, too; it was a salad and chicken tajin, which was delicious.

Since we were spending the night in Rabat, we left and got on our mini bus with Jess and Eva, our IES staff member, and hit the road. I was dozing a bit, and when I opened my eyes for a look around, I saw camels on a beach. Well that's cool, I thought. Then the bus slowed down, and I realized this was it. We were going to ride the camels. Despite the fact that Andrea and Casey were surprised that I actually got on an animal that big, I love animals (except weird ones like the Gibraltar monkeys... or snakes), and I've ridden horses and even elephants before without being scared. And camels are sort of like horses (much smaller than elephants), just taller and with weirder joints. When you get on the camel it's sitting down on the sand. The trainer tells you to hold on tight and lean back, then the camel lifts its butt all the way, straightens out its back legs, then stands up on it's front legs too. It's a little scary, and the way down was 10 times worse, but it was worth it. I was so high up, but not afraid of falling. The ride lasted far too little time, and before I knew it we were once again on our way to Rabat, the capital city.

As soon as we arrived in Rabat we were introduced to our host families, and taken home to rest and have a snack before being led on a tour of the Medina (old city) by our host moms. We had been told that at least one person, be it a parent or teenager, would speak pretty good English. Well, let's just say it's a good thing I took 3 semesters of French, because our host mom, although super sweet and hospitable, was not an English speaker. She gave us tea, cake, and bread for a snack, and after the walk she fed us more tea and also a strange pasta dish, which consisted of cut up angel hair with cinnamon and powdered sugar. Weird but delicious, and served, of course, with more bread.

Our host mom had 2 kids. One was 7, and I don't remember his name. The other, whose name was pronounced 'said' was 2 (I think...) and was attached to his dad's iPad, and watched Tom & Jerry and Justin Bieber the entire time we were there. We didn't get to meet our host dad, because he was in America, visiting Obama with the king of Morocco, for whom he is a bodyguard. No big deal.

Before I continue, I'm going to go completely out of chronological order and talk about Moroccan drivers. With the exception of our bus driver, who did his best to be safe and normal, Moroccans drive like actual crazy people. There were multiple times when we almost got hit by cars, saw people almost get hit by cars, or actually see someone get hit. Luckily, the latter only happened once. Back on track, now.

Breakfast was tea with bread, jam and little biscotti-like cookies. After breakfast, we visited another NGO, called Hope for Saleh (no idea how to spell it, pronounced 'sahlly'), which plans events for people in the shanty-town of Saleh, and teaches boys and girls how to read, write, cook, and gives them skills to get jobs. We talked about politics with a few of the employees, and eventually digressed to religion and modesty and how women dress in Morocco, and it got a little awkward when one of the Moroccan guys started saying that  men can't even resist women's eyes because they 'look into them and it's like you're lost in an ocean', so of course they should cover the rest of their body. We also visited some Roman ruins/early Arabic ruins.

That being done, we had lunch at our homestay (by the way, the homestay 'we' was myself and 2 IES girls, Kelsey and Nora), with our hostmom's niece Sarah. We ate couscous and bread and had sour milk. Yes, sour milk. Seriously. Not like, oops guess the milk is sour, but the let's-let-this-milk-go-sour-then-drink-it. It's a thing there, apparently. Definitely a taste I have not (and hope to never) acquire. We also tried on some Moroccan wedding dresses, which can be seen in my album (link at the beginning of the post).

My favorite part of the whole trip happened that night: the Hammam. A hammam is an Arab bath; I can't remember if I've posted about them before, because I've seen about 6 for Islamic Art, but basically it's a girls- or boys-only space with hot and cold water taps, where you clean yourself. Moroccans don't really have in-house showers, so they go to the hammam about once a week. This may sound gross, but you get so clean there that it really isn't; Moroccans may have surface dirt but their skin is clean. Anyways, our hostmom's niece, Sarah, was our hammam guide, and took us (me, Nora, Kelsey, Kassie, Bethine, and Clarissa) to the one she normally goes to.

Basically you get a scrubbing mitt and soap (we also brought shampoo and whatnot), go upstairs, and strip down to just your panties (hence no boys) and scrub for an hour or two. We helped each other scrub our backs, we got massages, and we came out cleaner than ever before. I don't exaggerate; not since the day I was born have I been that clean. I wish the US had hammams (authentic, not touristy ones) so I could repeat the experience. The best part was how casual it all was. When we walked in, there were maybe 3 women there, and one was completely naked but it wasn't a big deal. We didn't sit there judging each other for our bodies, or acting weirded out at the other people, we just cleaned ourselves and got over it. Before we went I was told that Moroccans are very comfortable and intimate within their own sex, and I really understood the extent of that after I went to the hammam.

Once we had removed the top 3-10 layers of skin, we got henna done. Henna is a plant that is ground up and mixed with water, then applied to the surface of the skin with a (blunt, they're not piercing the skin) syringe, to better control the flow of the paste. You leave it on for 2 hours to overnight, and once it comes off it leaves color where the paste was. This typically lasts a week to 10 days, but I will say that the last traces just faded from my pinky, and I got it done 3 weeks ago. This supposedly means that I will have good luck, because the longer it lasts the longer you will have good luck, and I guess it's working. I have had an awesome last few weeks.

Dinner was a spicy minestrone with tea and bread, and the next morning we headed off, eventually to Chefchaouen. We stopped first at the mausoleum that holds the current king's father, uncle, and grandfather, as well as a mosque that was never completed because a)there was an earthquake, partially destroying their work, and b)the king who financed it died.

Two hours later we stopped in Ouissan to have a tea break and go to the market to buy the salad, bread, and other staples for a picnic we were having with a rural family later that day. Kokaale and I volunteered to go with Jess to help carry the produce, and it was amazing. I apologize in advance for the non-structure of the next few sentences. Everything was so colorful. The smells. Spices in piles like mountains. Live chickens, clucking happily next to their dead and plucked brethren. Halves of beef hanging from the ceiling. Fresh. Delicous. The vendors would give us samples of their food, and we eventually made it out without letting our chins totally drop to the floor.

When we got to the family's farm, the girls (the boys played with the family's 6 year old) helped prepare lunch by cutting all sorts of veggies and things: tomatoes, carrots, peppers, avocados, cucumbers, strawberries, bread, and something else whose name escapes me. The family provided couscous. We had veggie sandwiches with soft cheese. They were delicious. The carrots were the sweetest I had ever tasted, the bread was delicious. I don't even have words for how good all of this was. Sincerely. Dessert was oranges, and they  were super sweet, but less tangy than in the US or Spain. Delicious nonetheless.

After lunch we hiked up a hill nearby, to see the Rif mountains (technically we were in them but it was a good view) and the family asked us to sing. We sang a few songs, including don't stop believing and a whole new world, and they were so happy. It was amazing to see how much they took pleasure in the simple things around them.

Of the whole day, the funniest thing was the 6 year old, who was a total ham. He posed for photos, with expertise that would have gotten him the title of Morocco's next top model, which was hilariously surprising. He flirted with all of the girls, and gave us flowers. So cute.

Eventually and unwillingly we left, and headed to Chefchaouen. Once there we did a lot of shopping (the exchange rate is excellent) and had dinner at a real restaurant. I had couscous, salad, and for dessert (which we didn't get to choose) there was a type of thin yogurt, flavored with honey, almond, cinnamon and maybe some other spices. It was super super delicious.

On our last morning in Morocco, we met in the hostel lobby at 7:30 and went on a hike(ish) up a hill to see the landscape at sunrise. It was breathtaking, and a really good way to start bringing the trip to an end. We had 1st breakfast at the top, which was drinkable yogurt, dried figs (omg still have those) and almonds. The almonds in Morocco, by the way, were some of the best I've ever eaten. Super buttery and sweet. Second breakfast (so what if we act like hobbits on vacation) was in the town square, and it was orange juice, tea, and some type of bread with honey, butter, and jam.

Sadly, we had to end our journey shortly after, saying goodbye to Jess and crossing the border into Ceuta, a Spanish protectorate (?) in Morocco, then taking the Ferry to La Linea, and coming home by bus. So ended the trip. It was one of the most amazing places I've been, with some of the nicest people who tried to make me eat more than my Spanish host mom does. If anyone is thinking about travelling, I would definitely suggest a trip to Morocco.

A Promise

So, I'm sitting here at IES, with nothing (Except a few Spanish exercises, psshhh) to do, and so I thought I should update about Morocco, and Semana Santa. Then I realized my journal, in which I have notes on both trips (including about 40 pages on Semana Santa), is sitting on my desk back in my homestay. Oops. So,  I promise that after my class visit to the Alhambra tonight I'm going to sit down and just write a novel on the past 3 weeks of my life.

Here's a preview of what will be included: camels, couscous, lots of tea, 3 West End shows, a studio tour, minor freakout, a cathedral, peanut butter candies and the English language.

Oops

So, I have to get up at 5:30 tomorrow morning to get in a taxi to get on a bus to get on a plane to get on another bus to get to London. Right now, it's 9:38. And I know I promised a Morocco post, but I'm just too tired and my legs hurt (yeah, I'm sitting down, but the pressure of my legs on my feet really hurts right now) so I'm going to be posting about Morocco as soon as I have free time after Semana Santa. Or during Semana Santa, if I can get Claire to let me use the computers at the ICLC.

In the meantime, here's a picture of my EU class. Our prof wanted a group picture with us, so without further ado...

Pre- Semana Santa Update

I know, I know. I'll post about Morocco too, but I wanted to write this while I remember. Also, if you haven't seen my last post about Gibraltar, read it. I'm posting them back to back, so you might not have seen it. Anyways, today is Wednesday, and in 2 days I'm starting my spring break! I'm going to London this year, no more galavanting across four countries and 8(?) cities like last year. However, I would like to mention that I'M GOING TO THE HARRY POTTER STUDIO TOUR and I'm SO EXCITED. I'm thinking I can get to the theme park in FL next year, but I don't know when I'll have this chance again, so I'm taking it while I can. I will also probably be seeing Wicked and The Lion Kind, since I haven't seen the first one yet and the latter, 7 years ago. I'm also going to see some familiar faces from camp, as well as the people of the ICLC. So don't be surprised when I disappear again for a week.

I promise to post about Morocco soon!

Gibraltar

Before I get to Morocco, I'm going to do a separate post about Gibraltar. Sorry I'm so behind, but I've been busy with midterms and life and a lack of motivation to blog.

A few Fridays ago, I got up early and got on the bus with about 40 other IES students, and we took the 3 hour trip to Gibraltar. Gibraltar is a British ... not colony, but sort of like that... in southern Spain

It's a mere 14 miles from Morocco, and you can see some of the mountains in Morocco, and according to legend, one of those mountains and the Rock of Gibraltar (Which is not, in fact, a rock. It's a mountain) are the pillars of Hercules, or something, which Hercules pushed apart to open the path to the end of the world. 

Anyway.

Despite its vicinity to Andalusia, Gibraltar is ridiculously like England. Their currency is the Gibraltar Pound (like the Scottish Pound, it is legal tender in England but is regarded as sketchy there), and everything is English. The signs are in English, the people speak English (although they also speak Andalusian Spanish), the phone booths are English, they even have Zebra (rhymes with Debra) crossings. I loved it, because it reminded me of last spring and whatnot. 

After crossing the border, we hopped on mini buses to take tours of the peninsula, including the Rock. We went to Europa Point, which I was told is the southernmost point of Europe, but I don't believe, because I've seen maps and Tarifa is definitely farther south.Our guide/driver, Robert, drove us through town, and through some tunnels in the Rock that were excavated quickly at the beginning of WWII. After Europa Point, we went up the Rock, from which there were some amazing views of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, as well as the Spanish Coast, and, of course, Morocco. 

The main attractions on the Rock that we went to were St. Michael's cave, which is the biggest cave in the Rock, and the apes. The cave is big enough to hold concerts in (although all the noise in such a confined and possible fragile space seems like a bad idea to me) and has some beautiful formations. And its gift shop had Cadbury Dairy Milk Caramel, so that helped. The apes were sort of terrifying but also wonderful. Some of them were adorable, moms grooming babies and babies grooming other babies, and others were sort of menacing. I think one hissed at us once, and they would just pop up on the wall right next to you out of nowhere. They were used to people, thought, and mostly really chill, so I actually got close enough to one to take a picture with it. A few brave monkeys even jumped on people's heads or into the vans. Thank God neither my head nor my van were involved in that, because I would have freaked out. 

The bus dropped us off near the main plaza... square?... where we had some free time. There was an optional hike up the Rock, but I was tired and really just wanted to find some Strongbow, so I opted out. I walked around the town a bit, bought cute postcards (seriously, one is adorable), bought some mini caramel eggs (oh how I've missed those), and had some Strongbow. We regrouped for dinner at a pub called The Clipper, where I got more Strongbow and some fish and chips. It was delicious.

The whole experience in Gibraltar was just beautiful, and made me miss London. Luckily I'll be there again in about 48 hours, for spring break. 

and here are some pictures, from other people's albums. The link to my Gibraltar/Morocco album is in the next post. 

delcious

these things are just everywhere

monkeys and me

view of the Rock from La Linea, the Spanish border town

me with Kassie and her very first Strongbow

Morocco Orientation

Did I say I wouldn't be posting for a while? Oops, oh well. My phone needs to charge for just a little longer, so I figured I would post (again) before bed. Hokay, so. Today was my orientation for my morocco trip, which is Friday. For those of you who don't know, Morocco is at the North West (top left) corner of Africa, just south of Spain:

see? I told you, it's right there on the top left

Now that we've got our geography lesson over with, here's basically what's going down. Today I got a bunch of facts, rules, suggestions, and words crammed into my poor little midterm-meltdown brain, which led me to take copious notes the entire time. In fact, I have 2 pages, plus the 2 sheets of paper (one with more notes) that Javier, the IES director gave us. 

The first day of the trip is in Gibraltar, the 'only place in Spain where people's first language is Spanglish.' Sounds like I'll fit in just fine. I can also apparently use the 29 quid I have leftover from last spring, or I can get the cool Gibraltar Pound, which is sort of like the Scottish pound: legal tender, only made in one place, and deemed sketchy by most Brits. I think I'll probably hit up an ATM, just so I can at least get a fiver to take home as a souvenir. There, we also get to climb the Rock of Gibraltar, which apparently has a lot of monkeys? 

Once in Morocco, we get to stay with host families (Dad if you're reading this, don't worry. They have never once had anything bad happen on one of these trips), go to a Hammam (Arab bath), get henna, eat our weight in couscous and oh, yeah, RIDE CAMELS. No big deal. I'm totally not excited to do that last one. 

During orientation, Javier clued us in on a few rules that we have to follow during our 4 days in Morocco

1. Don't take pictures of people, unless you get their permission first. They are offended by it, except kids. They like photos

2. Don't make physical contact with boys, unless you're shaking hands upon meeting or if they are pre-pubescent. 

3. Don't wear shoes on rugs

4. Eat, touch people, and give alms with you RIGHT hand. In Morocco, they don't (usually) have toilet paper; they have a 'dirty hand'

5. Giving a beggar your spare change is good and normal. 

6. You're going to eat from a communal dish, but only take what's in front of you. No stealing your neighbor's couscous. 

7. Don't talk about homosexuality

8. Don't question the king's authority, decisions, or lineage

9. Be very careful when talking about international politics, Western Sahara, or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

10. Dress like you live in Utah: no shoulders, chests, upper legs, or tight clothes

11. Leggings are NOT pants (oh, how I love this one)

12. Don't drink

13. Don't buy the weed in Chenchaouen. The dealer is probably working with the cops, and you'll spend the next 20 years of your life in a Moroccan prison. (yes, Javier actually said that out loud to us)

So that's pretty much it. I'm fairly certain this will actually be my last post until next Wednesday-ish. Next time you hear from me, I'll have been to Africa!

Malaga, Morocco, and Months

So last Friday, the watercolor class had a trip to Malaga, to visit the Picasso museum. Due to my unquestionable lack of artistic ability, I'm not in the class, but they had extra seats on the bus (for free!) so of course I went, with some friends. And although art is cool and everything, the beach is a lot cooler, so that's where I ended up. (also, a side note: is my English getting worse? Everything I'm writing sounds so dumb) We planned to be on teh beach all day, tanning and maybe swimming, but the weather had other ideas.

It had been warm and glorious for about an hour, when ominous, dark, clouds came rolling in from the mountains. We took this as our cue to take a coffee break, and we ended up just chilling near the beach for the rest of the day. It was still fun, though.

Not much has happened other than that; we had a game night on Thursday, at a bar with a bunch of board games, but that's really it. On Friday I'm going to Morocco (can cross another continent off my to-go list) with IES, which I'm super excited for. I have orientation for that tonight.

PS. I probably won't be updating a lot in the next month. This weekend/monday/tuesday is Morocco, then Christina is coming for the weekend, then a week later is Semana Santa (aka Spring Break: London Edition), and then a week later I'm going to Italy, too see Christina again. Oh, and some other cool cultural and historical stuff, like the Sistine Chapel. No big deal.

Cordoba, Fuentevaqueros, and Valderrubio

This weekend has been full of trips. On Friday, all of IES went to Cordoba and a nearby archaeological site, and this morning (Saturday) I went on a visit with my literature class, to the birthplace of Federico Garcia Lorca, as well as a town he lived in for four years. 

The site we visited yesterday is what's left of an old city from the period of the Omeya Caliphate. As a show of power, the first Caliph in Cordoba founded a new city, whose name I can't remember to save my own life. The city is about 8 kilometers from Cordoba, and the majority of wait remains pertained to the Alcazar, or palace, the gardens, and the mosque. It was pretty cool, as most of the walls remain, and you could more or less see the layout of the palace and the rooms within. Those moors certainly knew how to make the best use of space, because although it seemed small to me, it was actually an opulent royal palace.

Since this was just a day trip (no fancy hotels and long showers for us!), all we squeezed in to the Cordoba stop was a visit to the mosque-cathedral (I'll explain that in a moment), a visit to the synagogue, and a visit to Casa del Sefarad (which will also be explained). First stop was the cathedral-mosque. To clear things up right off the bat, it doesn't function as both a cathedral and a mosque. The next paragraph is going to be a super impressive history of the mosque, so if you're... one of the people who doesn't care about those things, cough cough... you can skip over to the one after.

The original structure was started in 785, by Abd al-Ramn I, who was the emir in Cordoba at the time (the Caliphate didn't begin until 929). All he built was the patio and the prayer room (that could be the totally wrong name, I'm doing my best to translate because my art history class is in spanish), and his son Hisan added the alminar, or tower, in 788. In 833 Abd al-Ramn II extended the naves in the prayer room towards the river. Nearly a century later, in 929, Abd al-Ramn III, amplified the patio, tore down and reconstructed the alminar, and reinforced the facade, which was beginning to lean into the patio. Al Hakam II extended the naves all the way to the river in 962, and finally Almanzor laterally extended both the prayer room and the patio in 988. And unless you really want to know more, that's all I'm writing about the history. If you want a really detailed description, I can do one with all the interior details and stuff.

Anyways, it was really really interesting to see the transition from mosque to cathedral, right in the middle of the building. It was amazing. I mean, here's a baroque cathedral smack dab in the middle of an 8th century mosque. Crazy. I'll post the link, once again.

This morning I got up early again for my literature class trip to Federico Garcia Lorca's birthplace. It was sort of cool, but mostly I just felt like I was intruding, even though everyone who ever lived in the house has died, because it was set up exactly as it was while the family lived there, with the original furnishings, textiles, and everything. They even had Lorca's younger sister, who was the longest surviving member of the family who had lived in the house, help with the restoration in order to make it perfect. The majority of the interesting-ness of both houses we saw was the connections to Lorca's works. For example, he used to listen to a neighbor yell at her husband and kids by standing over the well, which was connected to all the other wells on the block. This woman inspired a character in one of his plays, La Casa de Bernarda Alba.

So, basically, that's it. If you don't have facebook, check out my album from the weekend. :)

Salobreña, monte sin leña, mar sin pescao, niños maleducaos, curas pocos y locos

Yesterday was el Dia de Andalucia (festival of Andalusia), which means that we didn't have class! Yay! It was sort of annoying, because we had class Monday (and hence couldn't just take a long weekend to travel), but I still made the best of it. I headed to Salobreña, a beach town about an hour outside of Granada, with some of the girls from IES. 


My host mom had told me that Salobreña was the best beach to go to, and when she said that, my host sister said: Salobreña, monte sin leña, mar sin pescao, niños maleducaos, curas pocos y locos. Translation: mountain without trees, sea without fish, rude children, few and crazy priests. It sounds better when it rhymes. Anyways, it wasn't as crazy as all that, and I saw people fishing, so I guess there are fish. 


It wasn't super warm or sunny. The sky was sort of hazy, but that actually turned out to be for the best, because I could feel my face burning about 5 minutes after the sun came out. I put on sunscreen after that, so the only difference is that my seasonal freckles are slightly visible. 


Once again, I'm too lazy to upload all the photos to blogger, so here's the link to my facebook album. 

Food

Today marks the end of my fourth week in Spain! I can't believe that I've already been here for nearly a month; it's seriously flown by. One of the things I've wanted to do on here (since day one) is a post about food. In London, food was pretty much the same, because I bought what I wanted and prepared it in the way I was accustomed too.Here, not so much. I have food in the house for dinner, but lunch and breakfast are done the Spanish way. To make things easier, I'm gonna break it down by meal. 

Breakfast: Breakfast here generally consists of toast with jam (or nutella), chocolate milk or coffee, and fruit. Then, due to the glaring lack of protein in this meal, people generally have a coffee break around 11, and usually eat a pastry, too. I don't want to gain 100 pounds, so I bring a granola bar and some juice milk to IES with me. 

Juice milk, by the way, is something that I was told about by a former study abroad student, and have fallen in love with. It's just a mix of fruit juice (the best is peach) and skim milk, in a juice box, but it's delicious. Like a smoothie, but less cold and thick. 

Lunch: Lunch is the main meal here, and is eaten between 2 and 4. We eat at 2:30. It usually has more than one course, starting with soup or fruit salad, or both, then followed by the main meal and usually dessert. We've had about 10 different kinds of soup, from vegetable purees to chicken and rice to something I can only equate to motzah ball soup. The main course can be anything: pasta and chicken, something like a ratatouille with fried eggs (did I mention eggs aren't a breakfast food here?), croquetas, salad, clams, lasagna, twice baked potatoes, fish, you get the point. The strangest thing I've had for lunch was probably a type of fish that, although it was served in slices, still had scales and bones. Also, my paella had tentacles one day. Not even joking. Dessert can be anything: fruit, cookies, cake, custard, apple tart, whatever. My host mom really likes cooking, so we typically have something homemade. Today is was something like custard, but with a layer of cake on the outside, strawberries on the bottom, and a strawberry puree (that tasted like a whole fruit popsicle!) on top. It was so delicious that she and I both ate two pieces. We always have bread with lunch, and usually don't have drinks at the table, with the exception of my host dad, who drinks tinto de verano (a mix of red wine and lemon fanta). 

Dinner: Dinner varies, and I'm going to split it into two categories: home and tapas. 

     Home: I'm technically supposed to provide my own dinner, but my host mom pretty much always makes something and then says that there's extra (even though I know she makes it for me) and asks if I want it. This can be tortilla (Spanish version of an omelet), crepes, or pizza. Dinner in Spain is a very light meal, basically enough to ensure that you won't be trying to sleep on an empty stomach. When I make my own dinner, it's usually a bowl of cereal, a piece of fruit, pistachios, and juice. 

     Tapas: The tradition of tapas originated in Granada, and it is pretty much the only place where you can get them for free. There have been several cases of unhappiness when my friends and I have traveled outside of Granada, with IES, and had to actually pay for our food. How it works is you order a drink (alcoholic or otherwise) and, depending on the restaurant, you can choose your tapa or they just bring it to you. In most cases, you can pay to get an extra tapa, but why would you do that when you get them for free with a drink? Tapas I've had so far include: tortilla de patatas (potato omelet), fried rice, chicken wings, serrano ham, croquetas, manchego cheese, noodless, spring rolls, dumplings (yes, we frequent a Chinese tapas bar), bread with toppings ( I think it was meat?), and probably some other stuff in there. 

In the future, I'm probably going to post more about food, since it's something I'll be experiencing all semester. Until then, here are some pictures of what I've been eating. 

tortilla de patatas

my friend Danielle, and some croquetas

potatoes

juice milk. this stuff is legit

more potatoes? also Danielle

noodles and the world's best fried rice

the cake my host mom made

she wanted a picture after it was cut, too. Delicious. 

Las niñas buenas van al cielo, las malas a los Carnavales de Cádiz

Warning: this post may be a little... crazy. And probably a tad controversial. Please bear with me.

I saw that (the title of this post) on someone's sweatshirt yesterday. It translates to "Good girls go to heaven, bad ones go the the Carnaveles of Cádiz". Why am I telling you this? Well, yesterday (Saturday) was the start of one of the 2 weekends of Carnaval (I'm told it's like Mardi Gras, though I've never been to the latter) in Cádiz, a Spanish city on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. First, I would like to say that Cádiz is beautiful and I would love to go back during a less crazy time. 

This whole thing started a few weeks ago when a few of the girls at IES said they were going to Carnaval. Pretty soon, about half our program (myself included) had tickets for the same bus, which were actually a pretty good deal. 20 euro for a round trip. Normally, you'd have to pay 35 euro to get to Cádiz and back. Anyway, we knew we had to dress up. There was some debate over whether we should just dress crazy or have actual costumes. I went with my typical 'buy one or two things and make a costume out of it' approach. I ended up purchasing one of those skirt things that belly dancers wear (with all the jingly things) and a top as well. I knew exactly what I had in my wardrobe to go with this: leggings, a black skirt, a black tank top, and (for night time, so I didn't freeze) a stay-warm shirt, cardigan and jacket. 

My idea going into this was that it would be some sort of cultural festival, maybe with a parade or music. Well, I was half right. It was certainly a display of Spanish culture. We got to Cádiz around 6 pm, and decided to chill at the beach while it was still light outside. We played in the water and sand (legit, there are about 100 pictures of people jumping on the beach or in the water) then watched the sunset. We then heard some loud noises of the festive variety, so we walked in the direction  they were coming from. 

Was it a parade? Was it a band? No. It was a bunch of people with drums, and some guys dressed as matadors with a shopping cart bull. We followed the crowd and ended up in the plaza of the Cathedral, where we realized that, at this point, Carnaval was a giant botellon. Because of a delay in leaving Granada (there were so many people going to Cádiz that there was lots of confusion and it took twice as long to load the buses) we had missed all the parade-like festivities. 

For those of you who don't know, a botellon is sort of like a giant Spanish frat party: people get really drunk and stay out till all hours of the night, and following morning. We didn't know that it was just going to be this, but we rolled with it and decided to enjoy what we could. *disclaimer: yes, we were drinking,  but not nearly as much as the Spaniards (or many other attendees) and made sure that we were close enough to sobriety to be safe.* Pretty soon, I was bored. Yeah, it's fun to talk to your friends and other random Americans that always want to talk once they realize you're American too, but literally all most people were doing was drinking. 

You see, in the US, college parties (which is all I can really equate this too) have drinking games, and other stuff, like music/dancing to enjoy, as well as bathrooms and couches. Carnaval, on the other hand, was one giant mass of crazy, where people just stood there, talking to their friends and getting way too drunk. I can't even tell you how many ambulances I saw go by. There was no place to sit, as people throw their empties on the ground (gross) and some people would just go to a wall a pee (even grosser). Various times throughout the night, my friends and I walked back to the beach, where we (not even kidding) decided to sing some Disney songs to pass the time. Yes, it is an automatic requirement that college students regress to kindergarten levels of maturity. 

Eventually (around 5), we gave up trying to entertain ourselves, and sat on the stairs of the plaza for the buses until 6 am, when we were scheduled to be picked up. That went mostly fine, with the exception of some latecomers who had been lost. We got back to Granada by midmorning, and I was so happy to be back. Yes it was an experience, and I'm glad I went rather than asking myself what it would have been like, but I don't think I'd go back again. I value my sanity a little too much for that. 

Ronda y Sevilla

At IES Granada, as there were with the ICLC, there are several  fully subsidized trips to surrounding places in Andalucia. Our first was to the Alpujarra, and this weekend's was to Ronda and Sevilla, two cities within three hours of Granada.

In Ronda, we started at the historical Plaza de Toros (bullfighting ring), but didn't go in. Instead, we went to an overlook of the surrounding valley. The view was incredible. I'll post a link to the facebook album at the end of the post. Ronda was built near a very steep, impossible to scale, cliff in order to protect the city. Because of the height, you can see for miles. We were there on a nice, clear day, so it was particularly spectacular.

We then saw the Puente Viejo (old bridge), the support pillars of which apparently used to serve as a prison. If you ticked off your guards, they threw you out a window. Which is only, you know, slightly terrifying. Crossing the bridge, we made it to the old Arab Baths, which were not what I was expecting. Having been to the Roman Baths in England, I was thinking they'd be fairly open, with pools and airy spaces. I forgot to take into account the fact that the Roman Baths are heated naturally by hotspring, while the Arab Baths of Ronda were heated by fire. Therefore, they put a lot more effort into making sure as little heat as possible escaped from the heated rooms. Though there were skylights in the ceiling, for light and sanitation purposes, it was still dim and cave-like. I suppose the twilight would make it more relaxing.

After that, we went to La Casa del Rey Moro (House of the Moorish King), where we saw some pretty gardens and went down into Las Minas. Las minas literally translates as 'the mines'; these tunnels consisted of 194 steps down, through the interior of the cliff, that led to a river below. It was definitely work the burning muscles and absolute terror at walking down slippery wet steps in near darkness, because I don't think I've ever seen water that blue. Maybe in a movie, but never in real life. I personally don't have a ton of pictures (and no group shots) because my friends, took a ton, and told me I could use theirs. Once they're online, I'll post them.

After lunch (eaten picnic style at the lookout) we hopped back on the bus and went to Sevilla. Our first afternoon there consisted of a ton of free time, so my friends Danielle and Dave and I explored a little then got dinner. That night there was a flamenco performance, and it was amazing. I had been to one before, when I was in Barcelona in 2008 (was it really so long ago?), but to be honest I don't remember much of it. This one, however, was amazing. The guitarist, the singer, and the dancers. Everything. The guitar is so intricately played, and the singing is raw and emotional. My favorite part by far was the dancing. Not only was it technically amazing, but the passion in the woman's face really made it spectacular. I mean, you can usually tell the emotional color of a song or dance, but this just burst through. I'm not sure if I was more impressed by the speed at which she was able to move her feet without breaking the rhythm, or by how passionate she was about the dance.

Saturday was just as exciting as Friday. Our first stop was Los Reales Alcazares de Sevilla, or the Royal Palace. When the Spanish royal family is in town, that's where they stay. Because I did a project on Spanish castles this fall, I already knew a few things about the Alcazar, like who originally built it, the architectural style, and the history of some of the areas and their names. One patio in particular, El Patio de Las Doncellas, stands out in my mind. Its name refers to the legend that the Moorish kings demanded 100 virgins each year as a tribute from the Christian kings of the Iberian Peninsula. It, like the palace, is gorgeous. We walked around almost the entire palace, and even saw some peacocks after getting accidentally separated from our group, because our leader didn't give us time to take pictures.

We also saw the Cathedral, which was built after the destruction of the Mosque that was there originally. The only remaining part of the Mosque is La Giralda (the tower). We climbed to the top (thankfully there were ramps, not stairs), and could see the entire city. Within the cathedral itself, we saw the tomb of Christopher Columbus, although one other church claims to have his body.

Below are 3 photos (2 from the trip) that are from some of my friends, but you can look at my facebook album, too.

This isn't from Sevilla. It's from Wednesday, when Danielle, Alicia (pictured) and I got chocolate y churros. 

Dave and I practicing our mapping skills

Playing in the maze at the Alcazares