Spain 5

The coolest thing yet happened to me on Wednesday. I was walking to the second Wednesday intercambio at Portland, listening to my ipod, when "All Around the World" came on, by Oasis. That wasn't the cool thing though. The cool thing was when the cathedral's bell tower started tolling not only in time to the music, but in perfect harmony with it. It felt like a commercial, I'm not kidding. Anyway I was pretty thrilled, and it kind of made my night.
The intercambio went really well; I met this guy who's a professor and lives in a suburb not too far away with a castle. He invited me and some friends to visit the castle sometime and get paella, so hopefully we'll do that sometime.
Classes this week were pretty good. I learned a little about El Cid, the kind of Joan of Arc of Spain, minus the Saint part, as well as when to use Ser and Estar, the preterit perfect tense, and the different autonomous provinces of Spain. I typically have fairly straightforward and simple homework in all of my classes, but thanks to it being in Spanish it's rather more time-consuming than one would guess. Reading has become a much slower task as I am forced to look up every other word in the dictionary and then reread each sentence several times to make sure I understood it properly. It's rough not knowing more than four verb tenses as well...
Thursday was fairly uneventful except for finally finding the bouldering in the park. It's not huge, but there were a couple of fairly intense looking climbers there and I vowed to return sometime on my own with my climbing shoes and hopefully get a good workout in, as well as meet some Spanish climbers. I have yet to make good friends with any Valencia natives, minus a few people I've met at the intercambios and my host family.
Anyway this blog was intended to cover some major adventures of this weekend, but thanks to catching a cold the adventures have been pretty tame. I started feeling sick Thursday night, which was OK since I don't have class Friday and could sleep in. Unfortunately the extra sleep did not dispel the onset of my cold and I woke up with a runny nose and feeling extra sore. Luckily a shower and breakfast at least made me vaguely presentable, and at 11:45am I walked to the CAC where I had lunch in the park with Ken, then met the rest of the ISA group.
Our first stop, the IMAX theater. I'm telling you, this one certainly rivals that at the Smithsonian, and even a drippy nose didn't hinder the awesomeness of the show. We watched a movie on climbing in the Alps, which was intensely amazing. I couldn't tell at the end if I was terrified or thrilled of the thought of one day climbing such an intense mountain as the Eiger. Probably terirified. At least Max and Isaac weren't there to get any ideas. No, don't look it up, it was all ice climbing. The Alps are nowhere near Mallorca, and way more expensive, ok?
After the IMAX, we went to the aquarium, which is still part of the CAC (aptly named the City of Arts and Sciences, since the massive complex has many buildings, one of which is still under construction). The aquarium was pretty neat, although not as big as the one in Baltimore. It's close though, spread out nicely, well organized, and does have some pretty amazing exhibits. I especially liked the whales, the seals, the birds, and the tunnels underneath some of the tanks. We walked in tunnels surrounded on all sides by schools and schools of brightly colored fish and sharks. The ones above looked like they were flying through the air the water was so clear and the glass so clean. The dolphin show was no extra cost and really good as well, although being outdoors I was a little chilly. The day had started hot and, even sick, I was warm in leggings, dress, and jacket. Unfortunately the weather turned darker and windier and colder, such that by 5pm I was definitely ready to depart the aquarium and find a cafe.
That we did (Ken, Dotty, Madeline, and I), and I treated my poor sick self to hot coffee and a slice of double chocolate cake. Hey, I've walked like three miles a day at least since I arrived here, so I think I deserved it.
I found a pharmacy in the shopping center and payed an atrocious twenty three euros for a decongestant and contacts solution. Both are necessities though so I tried not to cry too much on the inside. There's at least four or five nights out, or three paella dinners, or the price of my plane ticket to Mallorca...
I took the bus home although I was only a few blocks away since it was cold and I was sick. It felt so nice to be inside I changed into the warmest clothes I have and curled up on the couch to read for at least an hour. One hot dinner later I was rested enough to talk with Alba and Italo's daughter-in-law, who was over as her husband and two other guys practiced music with Italo.
My host dad and his son, along with two others, play in a band, almost entirely Latino/Mexican music, and they have a gig tonight, so Friday practice was necessary. I loved listening, both since they're really good and because I like latino music, something I hadn't really known. Alba's daughter-in-law (whose name I can't remember) promised to teach me some salsa sometime, and perhaps flamenco! I'm pretty excited about that. She's really nice and not much older than me, somewhere in her mid-twenties. I only wish I didn't have to go out at 3am to find a club where I can dance... FYI, the bars here tend to close around 3am, which is when the discotecas open, and you can finally find a place to dance, if they're not all too crowded and you happen to have any money.
Anyway at 9:15 I ran across the street to the locutorio to e-mail my first ever newspaper article to the UMBC Retriever's Foreign Desk. I wrote it late Thursday night and I'm pretty sure it's fairly dull, but hopefully by the time I write my next one I will have had some real adventures. I only stayed about half an hour editing and then e-mailing the article, in the meantime catching up with the two friends who happened to be awake with nothing to do at 9:30am on a Friday morning. Thank you Sarah and Victor, you make me feel loved!
The short five minute walk home was punctuated by lightning and thunder, though no rain. The sky was a fairly unsettling shade of pink for nighttime, probably the reflection of lights from the city on low clouds. It was actually more comforting than anything to feel oncoming rain. This city is too dry and I think rain would dampen the smell of car exhaust and wash the fairly clean streets cleaner, as well as provide some well earned respite to the water-starved trees that line the roads.
I fell asleep with minimal difficulty just past 11, but slept poorly thanks to infinite Spanish conjugations running through my mind and of course my ever dripping nose. Tana came in sometime past 5 and I woke up briefly. Oh the life of the healthy.... I slept in until 12, an event unprecedented in at least this past year, as far as I can recall. A hot shower and a hot chocolate later I felt almost ready to join the land of the living. I struggled through two assignments before giving in to my inability to concentrate on Spanish and resigned myself to an afternoon in bed, staying warm. I was slightly guiltily excited about the rain, since it meant the weekend's excursion outside the city was probably postponed, and I would be able to go see Roman ruins with my friends another time.
Tomorrow, Sunday, if I feel better, I might go check out one of the city's myriad museums. Apparently most of them are free on Sundays, and I'm all about free activities!
Sorry there won't be any pictures for a while. I will try and get those of my friends here posted on Facebook. Until next time, happy traveling!

Spain 4

First: I really need to work on my titles. Any ideas?
Also: I am now officially writing for the UMBC Retriever Foreign Desk, submitting articles every three weeks (I hope). Any particular stories you would like to hear? Or any other suggestions? They might bear remarking similarity to my blog, beware...

Now... Some reflections of the past couple of days.

Life is all about patterns, I've found. Patterns aren't simply what you do everyday, although that too, is part of a pattern. Adjusting your schedule is easy; eating lunch at a different time, waking up earlier or later, spending ten hours a week in class or thirty. But patterns run deeper than that, and changing them can be much harder than simply adjusting a schedule.
Each person that has ever touched or continuously touches your life is part of a pattern. Your parents, your brothers and sisters, your friends, even your dog, cat, or guinea pig, your professors, your sandwich maker, your ex. Each person fits into your life in a particular way, and provides something different, whether it be support, companionship, an open ear, mentorship, or anything else. And each person brings out different aspects of your personality: your humor, your tenderness, your enthusiasm, your passion, your love, your stubbornness, and from time to time your anger. In general we seek out the people that bring out the best in ourselves, but no matter someone's impact on us, they help create who we are simply by being in our lives, and making us realize more about ourselves as we discover more about each other.
The most important patterns in life are the footprints of all those people (and animals) who mold us, one way or another, into the person we are day to day.
The hardest part about leaving home isn't being away in a strange place, or having to learn a new language, or being unable to communicate with people, or missing friends and family, although all of those also require some adjustment. The hardest part is entirely abandoning all former patterns, and adopting new ones.
Happiness and sorrow blend as old waves of patterns crash into new shores, leaving you somewhere tossed in the middle. For a while you are simply and repeatedly beaten by those waves until you can find the courage to get up, face adversity, and feel the sand beneath your toes. And when you finally take those first steps into new patterns, and allow people to touch your life, you will find something new and precious as a perfect sand dollar. And in that moment, you will feel nothing except for being intensely alive and free.
Some people never reach that point, for the sole reason of being too afraid to come ashore at all, and they remain bobbing on the surface or trying to dive back down to old patterns despite the pull of the tide. Leaving behind old patterns, as I've said, is the hardest part, and for good reason. Who can tell if the ocean will be quite the same when you return, or more importantly, if you will be the same person and still able to live in the ocean upon your return? Will your friends forget you, fill your pattern in their lives? I can't say with surety that any of these will not be true. However, I can say that new patterns enrich life, and rarely take the place of old patterns, but instead enhance the best qualities you possess, allowing you to grow not apart from people back home, but more complete. And when you return, when I return, I will not be less, not be replaced, not lack those patterns I held so recently. I will be more, I will be stronger, I will know how to get what I want, or how to live without knowing exactly what I want, and how to become who I want to be. I will step back in where I left off, not the same, but still embracing those old patterns again, finding a way to meld both the old and the new, and with the same love and passion in my heart.
I hope upon my return I can still say the same, and have accomplished all of this, or at least some portion. Right now I'm still feeling the lap of water on my back.

When I first decided to study abroad, I only had a couple of things in mind. First, I knew I would regret not doing it while I had the chance, and I can't stand regrets. Second, I didn't know if I could do it, if I could really find the audacity to live fully without anything I'd ever depended on. I've traveled before, but that was vacation, and never longer than a month. But studying abroad isn't a vacation, it's living in an entirely different place, making a new life for a short while. As someone interested in the Peace Corps, in living in other countries for months at a time, and traveling, I had to know if this was something I could do and would enjoy. If it wasn't, then I would have to seriously alter my self image and life plans, which made me all the more determined.
But no matter my determination, crashing waves pounded homesickness and the love of people I couldn't stand to leave behind deep into my core, shaking my heart until it was raw and all previous vows were forgotten. Luckily with time the waves become less insistent, and slowly I begin to make plans, allow myself to leave some things behind and let my host family and new friends in. Hopefully it will only keep getting easier, and I can finally learn to let go without forgetting, without erasing footprints, and allow myself to find what I'm looking for.

Sorry for the lack of any other updates. Really right now I'm trying to focus on learning Spanish, and the adventures have yet to come, most likely on weekends.

Spain 3

So a little note about Spanish, specifically in Spain.
Vs (the letter) are pronounced as Bs. All of them. Cs, when followed by the vowels E or I, are pronounced as TH (theta). So are all Zs. The ends of almost all words are dropped off. Therefore, Valencia is actually pronounced Ba-len-thee-a, with the stress on the second syllable. Foreigners in Valencia are recognized by speaking with a lisp, replacing all S-sounds with TH, rather than just the Cs. Another note of Spanish: Vale (pronounced Bah-le) means ok. It follows every sentence, kind of lie the Canadian "Eh."

To those of you studying humanities, or who have every studied humanities: WHAT'S THE DEAL? There are no problems. There is very little to figure out on your own. It's kind of like... fun? Classes shouldn't be that way. It feels too... relaxed. I'm really glad I have the major I do, because honestly, I couldn't take four years of this. It is a nice break though. Let me sum it up for you:
Culture: Starting with the origin of people in Spain, the Roman empire, the invasion of the Moors, etc... Onwards to the role of Spain in the EU. It's a lesson in history, geography, economics, and culture, taught by an entertaining and sympathetic professor. We have one project, individual or in a group that has a paper and a presentation. It is on ANY aspect of Spanish culture that we find interesting. I'm working with my friend Dotty on Flamenco dancing, it's history, etc... Should be fun. Maybe our presentation could be a demonstration?
Conversation: Verbs. It's all about verbs. Verb-tenses, verb-uses, reflexive verbs, etc... We speak lots in class, and later have a presentation (in Spanish) on WHATEVER WE WANT. Really, anything goes. I might talk about rock climbing, or travel, or whatever. Honestly though, what's with this freedom?
Composition: I love this professor. He's 29, loves to talk, and that is no exaggeration. He's really friendly and chill, and his class is all about everything grammatical in Spanish that ISN'T verbs. So mostly connections, links in sentences, and learning how to write well. Also learning what good writing is. I feel at home here, despite the language barrier.
Literature: Slightly disappointing. I was hoping for all modern fiction and non-fiction, but this starts with the origin of the Spanish language, and we're reading the first epic poems translated from old to modern Spanish. After that there will be much poetry, theater, and the odd book perhaps.
Something new: I have homework. I think I haven't had homework, like real homework, since highschool. This is obviously not counting essays, reading, studying, and lab reports, but those aren't really homework. That might take some getting used to. On the other hand, the thought of sitting on a bench in the park surrounded by palm trees, fountains, joggers, and a cool breeze makes the thought of homework much more appetizing. Also apparently libraries have free internet? Who knew?!

I'm really jealous there's an advanced class available called Cervantes that's all about Don Quixote. I would love to take it, except that my level of Spanish is nowhere NEAR that good. Hopefully soon though.

On to updates on life in general... The first week of classes was, in a word, short. Since Monday was the meeting and walking around town, I only had Tuesday and Wednesday classes, then Thursday was a national holiday (The Day of San Vicente), so there were no classes, and of course for me, no classes Friday either. I've been in Valencia less than a week but already the days kind of blur together. I know one day after class (I think Wednesday) I walked back home with two friends through the park, which was really nice. I remember at some point doing some shopping for necessities (conditioner, toothpaste, etc...). Thursday was perhaps the most boring day in history. Since it was a national holiday, everything was closed, and I mean everything. Not only that, but it was a grey, cloudy, windy, and chilly day out no good for even walking in the park. I think I stayed in until about 3pm, then finally met Ken in the old town to walk, eat, and mostly vent. For some reason it was a bad day for just about everyone so it did consist of a lot of venting. On the other hand, we realized we could climb the tower in the cathedral, so we did. Perhaps not the wisest choice, because after a week of walking, climbing 207 steep stone spiral stairs (try saying that ten times fast) wreaked havoc on my poor aching legs. The view made it all worthwhile though. The sun had just set and the sky was a zillion shades of blue and pink. You could see the entire city spread out before you, surrounded by mountains in the distance and blending perfectly into the sky, the sea. The City of Arts and Sciences, the futuristic museum complex you'll recognize from any pictures of Valencia, was obvious in the distance, and the plaza below was awash with warm lights. The sight was both awe-inspiring and intimidating; the city is much larger than I had imagined, and standing above it all looking down made me feel immeasurably miniscule and unimportant.
Thus followed a discussion at the top of the tower of how cool it would be to be spiderman and jump off the top.
Thursday was starting to look up, but not for long, thanks to my lovely karma, which happens to make sure bad days will remain bad days and good days will sometimes become bad days. After all that walking all I wanted to do at 8pm was just go home, have some hot dinner, maybe read or watch TV, and then go to sleep. Silly me, though, happened to get on the right bus in the wrong direction, which, contrary to my belief, did not simply go in a short circle around the old town but rather rode out a half hour into the suburbs of Valencia. I realized after about ten minutes this was definitely not right, and would have descended to catch a taxi home, except it was dark, the roads were tiny, and there were no taxis in sight. Not to mention I was still beset by an exhaustion unequal to any since climbing that mountain (what was it called again Erica?) while sick. Anyway, I was in luck because the bus did eventually turn around after the last stop and rather than going out of service returned to the city center and eventually down my street. This was a great relief, although I was disappointed I'd missed dinner with my roommate and most of my host family's soap opera. I guess technically it's a TV show because yesterday was the last show, and it ended, which I'm pretty sure soap operas never do.

Friday was definitely an improvement on the previous day. I didn't have class, but got up early (by Valencian standards) at 9:15 am anyway since my roommate had class. I had a leisurely breakfast, read my book for a while, and around 1:30 left for the ISA office to catch up on e-mails, and maybe watch LOST before a scavenger hunt organized by ISA at 4pm. While LOST didn't happen, I did get to send some e-mails I'd written the day before, and say hello to at least one person who was awake at 8am and online (thank you Victor for that).
At 4pm the scavenger hunt began... We were divided into two teams of about ten or so, and had to go around the old town and find out things about Valencia by asking people on the street and counting things in buildings, etc... It was pretty fun, and afterwards the directors all took us to a cafe for horchata, which is a Valencian drink. It's milk-based, cold, and sweet, with spices I couldn't identify flavoring it. It's consumed with light fluffy-sweet bread sticks, more like unsweetened donuts than anything, that you dip in the horchata. I loved the drink, but for some reason was best, once again, by homesickness. It really does come at the most random times and without barely any trigger. Weird.
Afterwards I meandered home (about a twenty minute walk from the old town), went across the street to call home since no one was at my place, and talked to my Mom for close to an hour. Once again, this managed to alleviate rather than worsen my homesickness. Dinner followed back home, and then I relaxed for a while before going back out to the old town to meet some friends for a drink.
Unfortunately, our plans did not work out quite as we'd hoped. After (again) all that walking, all I wanted to do was find a cute out-of-the-way bar, sit down at a quiet table, and have a glass of Sangria while in the company of some pretty cool people. Well Andrew and I walked together and arrived at the meeting place at the designated time. We soon received a call from Ken, who had repeated my error from the day before, and was somewhere in the middle of some suburb with no clue how to get back or really what direction to walk in. He had the unfortunate luck of his bus actually going out of service once it reached its far away destination. Dotty, too, was somehow lost, thanks to her taxi driver not actually dropping her off in the correct location. Go figure. So anyway Andrew and I walked around the cathedral and talked for close to forty minutes before anyone joined us, and then we walked some more waiting for Leigh to join. By the time we were all together it was close to midnight, and I was pretty sick of walking, and getting a little tired. Every place we passed seemed to be closing, despite Valencia's reputation for crazy night life that lasts until 7am. Convinced we were simply in the wrong place we kept walking and eventually found one bar that was open and sat down. Again, karma. They had no sangria (what the hell?) so I had some water instead, which I forgot they bring you in a bottle and charge you a euro fifty for. We meandered a little while later back to the center plaza (or one of them) and sat down on some benches, having been kicked out of the closing bar. It was starting to get pretty cold, so soon after, around 1:30, we all went out separate ways to head home. I got a text message about ten minutes later from Ken, who apparently passed the life of the city, which was, unfortunately, about ten minutes north of where we were. So Valencia does stay up until 7am, but only if you're in the right part of town. Oh well.

Saturday (today) we're planning on going to the beach, and hopefully it won't be too windy. Apparently cyclones are kind of a big deal here; they're pretty much just wind storms bad enough to cancel school and occasionally knock down walls. With any luck it will be nice and not too cold, and worthwhile frisbee weather.

Now more notes on the city of Valencia:
It smells. I guess this is perhaps not a surprise to many of you, who actually know things about cities, and are aware that hundreds of thousands of people living close proximation do tend to generate large quantities of waste, resulting, sometimes, in a particular odor.
Secondly, there is dog poo everywhere. I mean really, do not stray off the sidewalk, because you will, and I say this with complete sincerity, step in dog shit. So beware, I've warned you, and it's now up to you.
Besides that, this city is really pretty sweet. It's got some really pretty parts, and nowhere is it slummy or gross or really dangerous. It's not pretty everywhere, but the parts that aren't pretty are also not hideous, and easy to get used to. Not having internet easily and when I want it kind of a problem, but I'm getting used to it. Besides that, I really wish my ipod's battery life was longer than an hour, and that I didn't have such poor circulation. Also I can't wait until the massive blister on the bottom of my foot becomes a callous, or goes away.
Until next time, enjoy the pics and check out the rest on facebook. I'll try to put up captions this time.

PS: So I went to the beach today and broke my camera when it fell out of my pocket from the top of a tall jungle gym I was climbing. These might be your last pictures for a while...

Spain 2

I do believe I left you all in Toledo, a mere two days ago, and yet I have many updates. Well, not that many, but enough to merit another posting perhaps. Tomorrow I will have been here, in Valencia a week. I am currently writing from my new "home" which sadly does not have internet (there are three protected wireless networks I have yet to learn how to hack into...). Anyway the point is I will have to post this later when I find some blagosphere, and I do not remember exactly what I said in my last posting, so I might repeat some things.
Toledo = gorgeous, you must go there if you are in Spain. Enough said.
Now moving on...

We left for Valencia Sunday morning around 10:30 or a little later, driving in two large buses for many hours (thanks in part to our drivers getting lost) and arrived in the city before dark, around 4pm. We met our host families outside of the soccer stadium, since it's close to the university, the ISA office, and it's where we would be meeting the following morning. Nervousness and excitement competed about equally in almost all; what with our families looking for us, and us looking for them, and us also looking for all our luggage and trying to find it, the scene was not just a little hectic. Now to the part you've all been waiting for... My host family.

First Impressions:
Scared. There are two tiny Spanish-speaking (actually Columbian) people approaching me. One is wearing more makeup than I've seen since backstage Grease, along with tall boots, tight jeans, and braces. The other, still not more than 5'5'', sports a mustache to make most men envious, large glasses, and a leather jacket akin to that of Max and Andrew's. That car can't possibly hold all this stuff but wait, yes, they are going to squeeze it all in. Are you kidding, this thing has two doors? Is there a trunk here somewhere? Well, cozy is an understatement, but thankfully the house is only a fifteen minute drive away. But seriously, you could fit two of these little red two-doors in my car, which isn't that big to begin with... What have I gotten myself into?

Upon Reflection and Introductions:
My host family speaks excellent Spanish, slower and clearer than most Spaniards, thanks to being from Columbia. They've picked up the odd word or two of English from hosting many students from the States, as well as elsewhere. My host "dad" used to be a professor of Spanish in Columbia, and has impeccable grammar. He is not shy about correcting me, and is keen to answer all questions, of which I am very grateful. He is fairly soft-spoken and very friendly. He plays guitar and bass, and works outside the city in a suburb about 20km away where he, I think, composes music. I like him a lot. My host "mom" is an amazing cook, and keeps an impeccably tidy house. I say tidy for two reasons: the obvious is that, of course, this place is spick and span; the other comes from the sailor's use of the term. To tidy means to stow everything away onboard a ship, and I must say my room does not feel unlike a cabin, but I guess I'll get to that later. Alba, as my host mom is called, is extremely friendly and talkative, and very used to students in her house. She does our laundry once a week, and cooks all our meals. She doesn't care when we come in at night so long as we're fairly quiet, and encourages us to watch TV and ask questions to better learn the language. Both host parents remind me in some ways of mine, especially my mom. They tend to interrupt you speaking, which is simply a European custom and one I'm fairly used to. Actually, that, really, is the only resemblance, but I'm sure I'll think of some others later.

My Homestay:
I live on Dr. Waksman avenue, a few blocks south of the old part of town (the pretty part), and about forty five minutes walk (several miles?) from the University/ISA office. There are a couple of small parks nearby, and the avenue is split by a wide median with trees and greenery. There are palm trees everywhere. And orange trees. With, believe it or not in January, ripe oranges. I like in a tall apartment building that is fairly modern. Our apartment is on the seventh floor of fourteen, although luckily we're on a corner and the living room has a good view over the roof of the neighboring building of blue skies and, well, more city. When you walk in (the door's knob is in the center of the door, and doesn't turn, you use the key only), you're in a narrow hallway extending to the living room. On the left are three doors to three rooms, one of which (the second) is our own. The other rooms, as ours, are tiny, with a bunkbed in each, a TV, a dresser, a closet, and two nightstands. The curtains are pretty. The sheets match. Besides us, during Fallas, and in fact the whole month of March, our host family also hosts other students visiting from all over Europe, so for one month I will have at least four to six house-mates. Interesting. I got the top bunk, which is what I wanted, and Tana got the bottom, which is what she wanted, so thank goodness for small blessings. I guess we also have clean sheets, lots of blankets, free food, laundry, and TV, so there are plenty of things to be thankful for. The living room is also the dining room, which is actually only a small square table under the window with the view. There's one sofa and two comfy chairs, small by US standards but adequate and comfortable. Across lays a shelf with books and pictures and a giant flat screen TV. The corridor turns left at the living room, passing two bathrooms (one mine and Tana's to share) and ends at the kitchen, which is more narrow even than mine at home. There are other rooms next to the living room where I'm assuming Alba and Italo sleep, but I'm really not sure.
The weather here is amazing so far, somewhere in the 60's. On the other hand it's apparently been unusually warm, and will get colder in February. Somehow I have a feeling that colder is somewhere along the lines of the 50's instead of the 60's though... We'll just have to see.

The city:
Think DC cross Miami. I've never been to Miami but this is kind of what I would think of Miami as being like. There are some tall buildings, but they're shorter in the old part of town, and not imposing like in NY thanks to wide avenues and lots of trees. Most of the trees are palms, but there are plenty others that I couldn't identify. A few years ago, maybe a decade or so, the river that runs through the city flooded and nearly destroyed parts of the old town. The solution: divert the river! In it's place now lies an amazing park, winding through the city North to South, ending at the Museum of Arts and Sciences, the modern and fantastic building one sees in any pictures of Valencia. This city is a fantastic mixture of old and new, although it is, of course, still a city, and takes some getting used to. There are lots of cars, but not as much as in DC, and the streets aren't as crowded as NY. The parks are everywhere and the bus system is excellent. A monthly bus ticket is somewhere around 40 euros, and at 1.25 euros a trip, it's totally worth it for taking the bus twice a day to and from the university.

Monday, today, we met the ISA directors at 9:30 am at the stadium, where we were then shown the ISA office and the University. The University professors and directors showed us a welcome powerpoint and spoke for a while, then we took placement tests to give them an idea of everyone's level. Afterwards we returned to the ISA office, I walked around town, saw a park, came home for lunch around 2:30pm, then went back to the ISA office to e-mail and such before a 5 o'clock meeting on bus tickets. Afterwards, a couple new friends Ken and Andrew decided to come with me to walk around the park and the old town, so we found a plaza to sit in and chat for a while, then walked, then repeated, Andrew, it turns out, lives a block away from me, so we meandered back to our neighborhood together around 8:30. Dinner followed (again, delicious) and then to the Internet/phone place across the street to call my parents for the first time since arrival. Instead of making me feel more homesick, as I'd predicted, it was great to talk to them, and made them feel closer rather than farther away. Back home by 11-ish and then updates! More in the following week about classes, weekends, and Valencia! Enjoy!

PS: Class schedule = amazing... or boring?...
MTWTh: 9:30-11:15 and 11:45-1:15
Yup, that's it. Free Fridays!
Also sorry for no photos for now... next time!

Spain 1

Well guys... I've arrived in Spain. I am still alive. I have yet to arrive in Valencia (tomorrow) since we spent two days in Madrid and two in Toledo. I guess I should start from the beginning.

The Flight:
Seemingly ideal. I was sleepy when I arrived, didn't wait too long, and had two open seats next to mine, so I could stretch out comfortably.Unfortunately, after an hour's rest, I was no longer tired, and spent the rest of the flight trying and failing to sleep. Also Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants II is not so uplifting. Homesickness began early. My second flight, London to Madrid, yielded more sleep, and ended swiftly.

Arrival in Madrid and Day 1:
I realized in the airport, for the first time, believe it or not, that I am currently in a country where I don't speak the language. This has never happened before. I got asked questions twice and could only mumble confusedly and wear a fairly befuddled expression. I met one of the ISA directors in the airport and a couple of other people getting picked up. We took a bus to the hotel. My roommate had not arrived yet so I settled in and proceeded to mope in homesickness for a couple of hours (although the shower helped greatly) until I forced myself out of my room. We had a meeting where they three directors spoke almost entirely in Spanish. I think they were warning us about safety and health things, but I'm not really sure. We then took a panoramic bus tour of the city, but I was so exhausted I slept through most of it. I found a couple of people who didn't want to go out, and we went to a grocery store and got bread and cheese and churizo to share back in the hotel. I love spending 3 instead of 15 euros on dinner... I finally went back to my room, met my roommate who had arrived late, and too lazy to dig through my luggage to find PJ's, slept in a T-shirt.

Day 2:
Wake-up call around 8, meet at 9 after breakfast. There are 48 people in the ISA Valencia group, and we're the only ones together since all the other ISA travelers to other cities arrive on different days (Anna, for example). About 40 of the ISA students are girls, just to give you some perspective. We first visited the Prado museum, where, exhausted and jet-lagged, I proceeded to lose my breakfast in a mildly comfortable bathroom. Luckily I felt better afterwards, although I skipped lunch. We walked around Madrid for a while for lunch, then toured the Museo Reina Sofia. Not only was I feeling better, but I could actually mostly understand the guide this time, (everything, as expected, is in Spanish). The museum was also modern art, and held the oh-so-famous Guernica. It is as impressive as they say, and one of the few works of art that lives up to its reputation, at least so I've found.
The evening was spent getting Tapas with six people I've found who are pretty cool. Tapas are more filling than you would expect and cheaper than ordering a proper meal at a restaurant. I tried calling home at a payphone with a phonecard I bought, but no one answered. Stupid time difference... (6 hours later here, if you must know). Sleep came much easier the second night than the first, although exhaustion has not stopped at all.

Day 3:
Wake up at 7:30, meet at 8:15 after a hasty breakfast. Getting everyone's luggage in the bottom of two huge buses takes forty minutes. I sit next to Leigh on our way to El Escorial, about forty five minutes outside of Madrid. It boasts a cute town and an amazing palace, where we have another tour. It's the first sunny day since I arrived, and warmer than in Madrid, but not by much. The weather is just below freezing, but warmer in the sun, and never really windy.
The tour guides have so far all been funny and fairly easy to understand. Most speak in Spanish and English, though mostly Spanish. Everyone here seems to understand more than I do, but hopefully not for long. We had lunch in Escorial, then back to the bus for a fifteen minute drive to Franco's tomb, which you can imagine is a controversial place. What you can't imagine though, is the eerie and almost majestic church carved deep into a mountainside that wields a cross out the top as high as the Washington monument (or close), nor the amazing view. We only stayed briefly before returning to the bus and riding another two hours to Toledo. I slept the whole way, gratefully, although the exhaustion holds sway still with all the walking we've been doing.
We had another meeting in the hotel in Toledo about Spanish customs, common phrases, and what we can and can't do with our host families or at their houses. After the meeting I managed to get directions to another grocery store from the guy at the front desk of the hotel, and went to buy more bread, cheese, ham, fruit, and cookies for dinner with a few people. I've already kind of found a group (ish) that's very cool. Leigh, Ken, Andrew, Elizabeth, Anna, and the two Texans (Macy and Jessica). We came back to my room, since my roommate went out to Toledo for dinner, and chatted about lots of things... Mostly where we're from, our majors, why we're studying, and then other random things. I bought overpriced wireless internet later and wrote home, then slept at around 1am. Since dinner here is at around 9-11pm, bedtime is rarely before 12, and more likely close to 1 or 2am. Flashback to freshman year...

Day 4:
Another fairly sunny day... I'm glad to be out of the city and unable to hear traffic from my window. I don't know if I could ever really get used to the sounds of sirens and roads right outside my room. I know I'm living in the city in Valencia, but I hope at least an apartment is more soundproof than a hotel room.
A panoramic bus tour of Toledo is followed by a long walking tour of the old part of town. It's on a hill, a palace at the highest point and the fourth largest cathedral in Europe in the very center of the city. Most of the buildings are ancient, everything is made of stone, and the streets are tiny. The roads are all cobblestone, laundry hangs out of every window, and the views are fantastic. You never know where you could end up in the winding, narrow alleyways of the town. Toledo has also, for centuries, been a haven for Muslims, Jews, and Christians, so the architecture is a mosaic of different influences.
After the tour and a couple of hours for lunch the bus took us back to the hotel, where I am currently relaxing in my room before a meeting in a half hour about our host families. After that probably dinner, perhaps in Toledo, and sleep. Tomorrow morning we leave for Valencia, meet our host families, and settle in. Until the next time... Here are some photos!

One time I went on a cool trip and then I wrote about it around once every few weeks for the benefit of my friends back home!

Here is a picture of the fun things I did:

Yay isn't this great!