Spain 8 and 9

Spain 8

So after a pretty intense weekend in Barcelona, this week has been fairly tame. Monday was spent in class, walking, then doing homework, and then looking up tickets on the internet and talking to the few people online. I found out that night my roommate was leaving. She said it was because she didn't feel safe in the neighborhood, because people said things to her in the street. She had mentioned it before, but I had no idea that she would leave, I just thought it would pass. Tuesday after class and lunch Rosario, one of our directors, came by with Tana to pick up her stuff and to drive her to her new host family. Alba and Italo spend the whole day cleaning for Rosario's visit, despite the fact that the apartment was spic and span to begin with. Tuesday night I went back to the locutorio to get online and figure out more travel things. Organizing travel takes so much more planning than I really care to put into it most of the time.
Wednesday was better. I realized that I like having a little extra space, and I'm more comfortable talking with my host parents than I was talking to my roommate. Not to mention now when people visit they have a place to stay, since my host parents don't mind, and enjoy having students. I brought my lunch with me Wednesday, and we had a picnic lunch outside, laying on the grass and enjoying the 60 degree weather and the sunshine warming our faces.
After lunch I changed and went to the park, leaving my stuff in the ISA office, to boulder for a while. It wasn't a bad workout, but I was sad I didn't run into the other climbers I'd met before. It was gorgeous weather though, and nice to be doing something slightly more active than walking.
Anyway at 5:30 we had a meeting in the ISA office, so I returned to hear about this month's activities (soccer game at the stadium, a couple of museum visits I don't think I can make).
That evening after the meeting Leigh and Megan decided they were going to Morocco, and asked if I wanted to come for three days. I rather spontaneously said sure, and we proceeded to buy tickets. So, yea, I'm going to Casablanca. I don't know anything about Casablanca, except that it's even bigger than Barcelona. Oh well. I hope they speak French. Or English. Or Spanish. Any one of those would be fine. Hm...
Anyway at 8pm there was an intercambio, so after grabbing a quick dinner with some friends, we headed over to the Diabolito, a large and largely smoke-free bar. I actually was super lucky, because I not only got to know another really cool girl in ISA, Quinn, but also met a Valencian student of Tourism. He's currently getting his Masters in Tourism, which I didn't even know you could do, and is pretty excited about sharing information on Valencia, its history, its customs, its culture, etc... We planned to meet up on Sunday with Quinn and walk around the old town and see some things and practice Spanish. I'm pretty excited about that.
Thursday I explained to my teachers I would be missing next week's class thanks to my trip to Casablanca, and they seemed pretty cool with it. Besides that, I walked home for lunch, did some homework, walked back to the ISA office to Skype home, ran into the slackline climbing guy in the park, finally exchanged numbers and learned his name (Gustavo), then later walked home. I think I probably walked somewhere upwards of seven miles that day. Anyway I got home and Italo, my host dad, was practicing bass. He's really good, and invited me to play some with him, so I did. It was pretty awesome, and hopefully we'll have another jam session sometime. Salsa music is really starting to grow on me, I really have to go dancing sometime soon. At least it's really similar to swing dancing.
I spent the evening relaxing, writing, reading, and eating another amazing dinner. Man, Alba really knows how to cook. We need to spend a day cooking together sometime soon. I will come back to the states knowing how to cook Paella at the very least.
Today, Friday, I slept in and read in bed until a little after 10 (ok that's late for me, alright?) and then successfully sewed two buttons and a rip in my jeans with slightly mismatched thread. Italo gave me a DVD to copy, except I can't quite figure out how to do it since it won't open in itunes, so I'll have to work on that. That's about all for this week. Next post, I promise, will be slightly more exciting.


Spain 9

This past weekend certainly passed quickly. Friday afternoon I met Leigh and Andrew to walk into the city center and meet Ken. We all hung out around the cathedral for a while before heading to the museum we wanted to see. Unfortunately it was closed for the siesta, so we would have to find something to occupy our attention for the afternoon. Since Ken and I needed to get tickets to Alicante, we decided to all go down to the train station, since it was only about ten minutes away and the Plaza de Torros, right next by, is also worth seeing.
Anyway after purchasing our tickets we realized that in the Plaza de Torros was a pretty sweet Medieval Market, here just for the weekend. Think Renaissance festival, but in a small circular arena designed for bullfights. It looks like a miniature Roman gladiator ring. I managed to not spend all my money at the market, although everything was tempting, and we walked around for a good forty minutes or so. Anyway afterwards we decided to head back up towards the cathedral to meet Dotty. We stopped and got some gelato, since there are gelato places everywhere and it's very much of the delicious.
While waiting for Dotty, and since it was absolutely gorgeous outside, we decided to climb the Torres de Serrano, one of the giant stone gate towers that used to be part of the wall surrounding the Medieval-age city. While the wall is no longer in existence, two of the gate towers remain, the Torres de Serrano being one of them. It is many stories high and has turrets. It's of tan stone, and rather than looking imposing is rather magnificent, and actually the favorite part of the city for many Valencians. We climbed it in stages, taking a zillion and several pictures on the way up. Both Leigh and Andrew had the courage to jump the tiny gate to climb up the small rickety iron staircase to the flag pole at the very top, but I kept my feet firmly on the stone. They also seemed to be fine standing between the turrets, mere inches away from an unpleasant death, but Ken and I nearly had heart attacks taking pictures.
It was probably close to six o'clock or so when we made our way down, just starting to hit dusk, and we meandered back to the Plaza de la Reina behind the Cathedral where the museum was. We put our names down for a tour at 7pm, since the museum only does tours. In the meantime we decided to visit the basilica next to the cathedral and the museum, which, believe it or not, was hosting a mass. So as to not interrupt, we sat down in the back and rested for a while. If I paid attention I could give or take understand what the mass was about, but the dull drone of the priest's voice could not hold my attention when the marble pillars and high domed ceiling loomed magnificently over me. The ceiling was painted in sweet pastels, depicting angels and men and clouds and in the very center, a radiant white dove. The alter was bordered by tan, black, and rose marble, and the whole congregation's voices echoed as they sang, "Halleluja, halleluja."
We had to leave before the mass was over, but I'll definitely have to go back for a full one. The organ is an amazing instrument. Besides one couple, we were the only people at the tour of the museum, whose name I forget. The museum is entirely underground and shows the remains of the Roman, then second Roman, then Moorish cities that once stood where modern Valencia now stands.
Valentia was first founded by the Romans in 138 BC, its name meaning valiant, under the Republic. However, a mere 65 or so years later the city was burned to the ground during the civil war that heralded the end of the Republic and the beginning of the Empire (someone please check my dates here). Anyway the new Empire very soon later rebuilt the city, so there are two layers of Roman buildings to decipher in the ruins in the museum. Some roads were very clear, as was the foundation of the original bathhouse and permanent market. At least two original pillars that surrounded the main square of the Roman city remain, those that faced the main public building. I don't remember any of the names so Mark or Sarah, please help me out. Valentia as a Roman city was pretty much like every other Roman city, in any case.
Eventually, however, Valentia was taken over by the Moors, who renamed the city Balensiya, and used the stones from many Roman buildings to make other buildings, yet again one layer up. As Terry Pratchett commented on Ankh-Morpork, Valencia is indeed built mainly on... Valencia. Thanks to the river's fairly regular floods that deposited sediment throughout the city, the remains of walls and roads are still apparently if you dig deep enough. The museum would show more, except the excavation was limited since apparently digging under the cathedral and other medieval churches is prohibited. Anyway, the Moors happily ruled Valencia for some 500 years before getting kicked out by the Christians, who tore down the mosque and built the current Cathedral in its place. Actually, the cathedral was built over a great span of time, which is why it boasts Romanesque, Baroque, and Gothic architecture, inside and outside. Also did I mention it's home to the Holy Grail? Yea, go figure.
Anyway the tour was very interesting, and I once again witnessed (and touched!) objects that were around before Jesus walked the earth. Neat! It must have been around 8 pm that I made my way back home for dinner and to hang out with my host family. I'm pretty sure I chilled that evening, or went out to the locutorio to call home...
Saturday proved to be a gorgeous sunny day, despite a negative forecast, which was perfect since Ken and I were taking a day trip to Xativa (pronounced Ha-tee-va). It's a town about 100km south of Valencia, or about 45 minutes by train. I discovered a new walk into the city much faster than my previous route, which also has a used bookstore and a store that, as advertised, sells natural plants (the curious part was the giant Marajuana leaf hung as its symbol). The train station, a mere hundred or so years old, is, as I said, right next to the Plaza de Torros and a little south of the center of the city. It's pretty amazing, and buying tickets is both fast and simple, and really, quite cheap. Round trip: 6.50 euros.
Ken and I arrived in Xativa before noon, and walking out of the train station there realized we had no idea where we were. Luckily Xativa is tiny and cute, and after walking through fairly narrow and interesting streets for about two minutes, saw signs indicating the tourist information office, where we found maps and a schedule for all interesting things to see. We set off for the Basilica, since it was one of the few things open and the lady at the desk said it was amazing. She was not wrong. The Basilica itself was almost as big as Valencia's cathedral, and had a cute little museum with old Bishops' robes, paintings, relics, and a giant gold crown roughly the size and shape of a very large pumpkin. The true gem of the Basilica though was its tower, which rose well above the height of any other building in the city, and gave absolutely magnificent views of the mountains all around and the castle ruins just opposite. Climbing up, though, I swore the stairs would never end. The heights were terrifying, as was the thought of any of the many bells actually ringing. At the very top of the tower was a statue of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus, with which I tried to get a picture. The mountains surrounded us and the town lay before us, cliffs and the giant castle on one of the mountaintops the only things higher than we were. I was glad I convinced Ken to come to the top, who, thanks to claustrophobia and a fear of heights that rivals even my own, at first refused to enter the cramped spiral staircase to the very point of the tower.
We came back down and decided then to head to the castle at the top of the mountain. With our bocadillos (french bread sandwiches) and mandarinas in our backpacks we set off, the warm sun soon causing us to seek shade beneath the trees along the road that wound up the mountain. We stopped by a cave to eat and rest before finally reaching the castle entrance. It was so nice to walk outside of a city and to hear birds and feel a cool breeze that smelt of flowers and not car exhaust. I was wearing my sneakers too, which is guaranteed to make it a good day. The castle, which really is barely ruins, was still fantastic. The turrets and walls still stand, and a couple of rooms are still standing, but mostly the castle seemed like a fortification rather than a habitation. We clambered over rocks and through gardens, up to the tallest point where a flag still flies, and took pictures of views and flowers and rock. We spoke in Spanish and laughed for several minutes at a few little girls singing a chant to taunt a boy. I felt pretty bad for the boy, but knowing little boys, I'm fairly certain at some point or another in his life he might have deserved it.
It was past four when we headed back down from the castle, and I called and woke Max up to wish him a Happy Valentine's Day, whereupon Ken mocked me mercilessly for my apparent Max-voice. We tried to visit another church that said it was open, but apparently wasn't, and then decided that we could both go for a break from the walking. We stopped at a cafe and got Horchata with the sweet breadstick things that go with it to dip in. A nice old man saw me struggling to fish bread dropped into the tall narrow glass and smiling, gave me a spoon. I thanked him, completely embarrassed from having been witnessed as horchata dripped a little down my chin.
Nothing that a little shopping couldn't cure! On our way back down to the train station we stopped in a few little stores, where I found the world's sexiest and awesomest leather jacket. I would have bought it if it had been forty or fifty euros less, but as it is, I will remember it always... I almost fell asleep on the train ride home, watching the sun set over the hills and the sky slowly darken, but I managed to keep myself awake through the ride and subsequent walk home. I ate dinner with the two highschool Italian girls who are staying here this week, and we managed to communicate well in broken Spanish and English. They're pretty cool, and were very excited when they found out I liked Red Hot Chili Peppers and had seen a Broadway musical. Their giddiness made me feel at once glad not to be 17 anymore, and also old. I went to sleep fairly early and content at a day well spent.
Sunday was unfortunately drizzly and cold outside, but once again morning light found me walking to the train station, this time to meet Toni (Antonio), the guy I'd met at the intercambio, Quinn, and Allison, two other ISA girls. Toni, a native of Valencia and a student at the University getting his Masters in Tourism, seemed perfectly happy to show me, Quinn, and Allison secrets of the city. We walked down streets I thought I knew, only to discover old churches and the original University, which now holds changing exhibitions. We witnessed several snippets of different masses and the oldest church in Valencia, which is not actually the Cathedral. The churches are all cathedral-esque, only smaller, and markedly different. One is entirely white, another entirely painted, and one dark with elaborate blue and white decorations on all the walls. The oldest has a cute garden outside and while seemingly plain was the most crowded and certainly interesting. We visited the cathedral (again, for me, but it never gets old) and then took a tour in Castelleno of the Museum of San Vicente, the patron saint of Valencia. Unfortunately I got little out of the tour except that Vicente was horribly tortured for a very long time, then his body was tossed in the river, and three days later his family went to find his remains and buried them. He developed a very strong following and some hundred years later some monks found out where he was buried and decided to find his remains. Apparently they only got his arm, and God knows what happened to the rest of him, but it is indeed the same arm that now rests in a glass case in the cathedral, decrepit and shriveled. The museum itself is also underground and houses remains of the original church built to honor San Vicente, which was torn down and over which was built a Moorish bathhouse when they took over. At least I'm fairly certain that's what the tour said, although really I can't be sure...
We eventually made it back to the Plaza de la Ajuntament, the main square of the city, and had a leisurely lunch. On our way back to the train station we visited the Plaza de Torros since the Medieval Market was still going on. I once again managed to keep my wallet closed, although I discovered a far more tempting area of the market I'd missed on friday: the food. There were crepes, as well as any kind of chorizo (type of sausage) you can imagine, and sizzling meats on grills and cakes and pies of any description, and cheeses of all sizes, and candied apples and more. I did try samples of several chorizos, including duck, bull, and I think deer. They were all delicious.
I returned home in the afternoon to rest and then Skype home. Unfortunately the wifi at the locutorio was not really working properly, so I got on the computer an lo and behold, Andrew was online, just the person I needed to consult with on computer issues! He managed to direct me such that I could open the Linksys page, since the internet was available, just not letting me connect. The wifi was also entirely unprotected, which meant I could have added a password had I any desire to and use it as my own personal internet. Unfortunately there was no Reset button, and in my zeal to capture a screen shot to send to Andrew, I accidently entered a command that would, instead, make my MAC talk to me. Continuously. It took me quite some time to figure out how to make it stop, and by then I was pretty fed up with trying and failing to get the internet to work, while I was meanwhile using a computer older I am with a keyboard whose spacebar refused to work. Anyway, I decided to leave without having fixed the internet problem, and went to call Max, which was nice.
I spent the evening in with my host family, watching part of a movie and then finishing my book and going to bed early in order to get up for class today. I intended to go back to the ISA office after lunch to finally get on Skype but sadly, the ISA office has no electricity today and also doesn't have internet. Sometimes, Valencia really might as well be back in the Middle Ages for the way technology works from time to time. Anyway, three days until I'm in Casablanca!!

Sorry about the two posts in one guys, I guess I forgot to post last week's... Spain 8 was written last Friday early, and Spain 9 today, Monday.