Winter Break

I am in a bit of shock. Stuart left this morning at 6 am to begin his month long journey on El Camino de Santiago, 720 km walk from Jean Pied de Port in France to Galicia Spain. I missed him the second he walked out the door. Now I am sitting at my desk slowly sipping a class of his dry vermouth, twirling my ice wondering how I am going to manage the next month and sequential 6 months without him. I’d go as far to say that I am forgivingly upset with him. He had the nerve to come all the way to Europe, stay a whole month and spoil me rotten. Now I am expected to go back to reality, work hard and finish my degree.

No more gallivanting through wine country or visiting the coast. No more romantic dinners or scenic views… just books! He’s lucky I like my studies, or else he would have a lot of explaining to do. His family is even to blame! We spent an unbelievable holiday with Chip, Nancy and Alex in which I saw more of Madrid than I had in the entire first semester.

Bottom line: I had too much fun this winter break and now I am worried about starting my second semester of Graduate school. Lucky for me all the diversion was also cultural and highly relevant to my work. I am so glad I stayed in Spain, saw Spain, and shared a Spanish vacation with my boyfriend and his wonderful family.  

 

Stu arrived shortly after finals on December 19^th. I opened my door to a scraggly version of my boyfriend covered in hives. Even after washing all of his belongings it took us three days to identify the culprit: a pair of Chinese cashmere lined gloves gifted to him from a friend in California. Once he was rested I dragged him all over Madrid showing him my favorite sites, including the view from the top to Ciculo de Bellas Artes and the lobster in Retiro Park where Lobster Cat lives. We ate tapas, indian food and explored the eccentric neighborhoods of Chueca and Malasaña. For the holidays we dined with my friends Paige, Kata and Jackson. On Christmas Eve we cooked together, an activity I missed sharing. Even when our mushrooms proved to be nurturing maggots, I pushed through and reminded myself how much I love cooking with Stu, even when things go horribly wrong, it is always fun.

For Christmas he gave me a beautiful necklace in the style of Art Nouveau. I was very impressed with his choice and will cherish it for many years to come. Rather than brag about the slide in writing, here is a photo of it:

My presents would come later, in Granada.

On the 27^th Nancy, Chip and Alex arrived. Originally we intended to start them off with a mild walk and a stunning panoramic before allowing them to nap off the jet lag. Instead, our excitement got the best of us and we dragged them 5 or 6 miles around Madrid and to a fancy cheese shop. To our credit there were many treats and stops along the way,( outrageous pastries from the shop in Puerta del Sol on the Corner of Av. Mayor) and the promised siesta was eventually granted.

Everyone awoke refreshed and we resumed the full force introduction to Madrid with tapas at Mercado San Miguel and a Flamenco show at Casa Patas. Cooincidently, Casa Patas was the same place where Chip and Nancy had gone on their last visit to Madrid. The show was light hearted and entertaining.

Over the next few days we visited the must see spots including the always fascinating museos de Reina Sofia and the Prado. No one starved, there was plenty of gelatos, tapas, wine and large lunches. For Stuarts birthday we had a once in a lifetime experience at the Terrace restaurant of el Casino on called Alcala. The menu was designed by famous chef Ferran Adria with a fantastic molecular approach to cooking; the “liquid ham croquet” sticks out in my mind. We got dressed up all fancy like and had the best time.

 On the 30^th the Chescheirs rented a car and we took a day trip to nearby Segovia. With the liquid ham still in my stomach I had a little difficulty with the windy scenic route, but enjoyed the views none the less. In Segovia we marveled at the aqueducts and visited the Cathedral and Alcazar. For lunch we had two traditional dishes, suckling baby piglet and suckling baby lamb, both were crispy with a strong taste of innocence.

We returned to Madrid to discover a very festive scene. Between Christmas and New Years no one works, instead they wear colorful wigs and dance through the streets. A faculty member at NYU had described the phenomenon earlier in the semester, but couldn’t explain the “why” half of the tradition. We stopped to listen to some very talented musicians playing to the happy crowds passing by. I was overcome with a strong desire to join them, but never went through with acquiring a wig. I would have chosen long purple and straight, maybe next year.  None of us were in shape to make it until midnight or eat the 12 mandatory grapes with each stroke of the bell.

Instead we decided to ring in the New Year smart. We spent 2 lovely hours at the Arab baths soaking in pools and relaxing our muscles in the Turkish steam room. For dinner we avoided the crowds and the 100 euros dinner menus; we ate Indian food in Lavapies, a popular watering hole for hungry and poor NYU scholars.  Over one meal Nancy observed that this holiday was our 3^rd New Year in a row in a different location, Africa, The West Coast and Spain. Hopefully it will be a tradition to continue.

On the first we woke up to say goodbye before returning to bed and sleeping the entire day. The visit with the Chescheirs is one for the books. Mission accomplished: by the end of the trip I was fat, happy and relaxed.

The morning of the second the alarm sounded and Stuart and I rushed out the door toward the bus station. We planned to travel for 10 days, starting with the first two day in Granada and with the last 8 up in the air. We arrived in Granada and visited the Alhambra, the palaces in its interior. I had been before, but somehow the snow on the Sierra Nevada made the place much more breathe taking.

For Stuart’s birthday I treated him to a wine tasting dinner at La Oliva, recommended by Nina, and another visit to the Arab baths. The meal was spectacular and the baths melted away all our cares.  Our host for dinner, Francisco is a charming elderly chef from Cordoba who runs tasting dinners out of his gourmet shop. He uses all local incredible ingredients. I peeked into kitech to discover he had been preforming magic making exquisite plates using only a camping style gas tank!

Madrid is wonderful and has so much to offer, but I am always presently happy to spend time in a medium size city, especially one as stunning as Granada. Language is a big factor in this, in Madrid people tend to be slightly impatient, or assume that their horrible English is better than my Spanish, without giving me the opportunity to try. Outside of Madrid I felt much more confident. For example the negative experience in the Sherry bar with Stuarts family would be far less likely outside the cluster of Madrid. Who knows, in the case of Granada it may have been the cats: sooooo many cats sunbathing without a care in the world.

With the remainder of our adventure unconfirmed we turned to our trusty Rick Steves guidebook. The logical option would be to stay in the South. But, I was without the proper paperwork to go to Morocco (thank you Spanish bureaucracy), and would prefer to return in the summer when nothing is off limits. Also, we read about Jerez: Rick highlighted two elements: sherry, which in general I find pretty gross and horses (Stu does not care for them… they kick!)

Flipping a few chapters ahead we came to Cataluña. Before I knew it we were on a night train to Barcelona, hopping in a rental car and building a fire in the woodstove of a tiny cottage in the middle of an organic olive farm. A lovely British couple, Alice and Simon rent out their property through my favorite lodgin site, Air B&B. Their 3 dogs Jack, Bobby and Boots greeted us every day at the gate, wagging their tails and chomping on olives. We went out exploring nearby towns everyday and came home at night to cook dinner and drink delicious! delicious! delicious! Cava.  Our hosts supplied us with olive oil, almonds and homemade jam. I could have stayed much longer.

On the first day driving out of Barcelona we drove to Pendes region, home of Cava. We stopped in the small town of Sant Sadurni d Anoia where the wonderful people at the tourist information center helped us plan our day. With the continuation of Spanish Christmasing not many wineries were open, but we were able to confirm a visit with Rovelletas.

We walked around the town stopping at a wine making store and a local bar which served delicious! Delicious! Delicious! Cava by the glass. Stuart picked up a bookon viticulture and I bought a few bottles to have during the week at the cottage. Catalunya is separate from Spain, they have their own history, identity, language and independent style. During the 20^th century the Modernistas constructed many incredible buildings, some of my favorite architecture comes from this time period. I marveled at the stain glass and stopped to wish I had a better camera to capture all the wonderful forms.

At the winery, which turned out to be a giant estate with 11 century ruins, 15^th century structures a chapel from the 1900s and an enormous 1km underground cellar with 6 wings of sparkling wine. The area is hurting economically, everything seems to be in disrepair. Our host drove all the way from Barcelona to open the winery and give Stuart and I a private tour. In the basement we noted the disturbing effects of the moisture and questionable housekeeping decisions of the estate. At the end we sampled two cavas, a grand reserve and a sparking dry rose.

The second day we headed to Priorat, famous for hearty red wines. Nestled between two rivers we wound our way up a mountain stopping at about 6 different medieval towns. Each were very quiet on account of the holidays, but we managed to find one wine shop open in Torroja de Porrera. The portly shop owner with bushy tufts sprouting from his ears told us all about his wines and the history of the village. According to him Toroja was unique in that the Moors built it above the level of the river, using wells to supply water for their mountainous fortress. We purchased two bottles of wine, which were excellent

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Over the next few days we hopped around to more medieval towns and coastal villages.  My favorite, Tortosta, was a surprise. We had stopped only to find an internet café and wound up spending the whole day walking around and staring at beautiful and empty buildings. At one point we had an entire castle to ourselves. I kept asking “how?” it all seemed impossible and too good to be true. The market, the bridge with large fish sunning themselves, the shell of a gothic church, a stain glass tour: all beautiful and all slightly in decay.

On the last day Simon recommended the town and castle of Miravet. We entered the name into our GPS and drove for 10 minutes before we were abruptly instructed to turn left and “board ferry”. To get to the town we had to take a rickety ferry across a stream, no motor, driven only by ropes the current and a ruder. Only in Spain!

 For dinner we tested out Simon and Alison’s paella pan. Stuart butchered and rabbit capturing the attention of the dog. We ushered them out of the house until we were finished cooking.

The dish turned out amazing, but in my engagement with the television watching Bollywood music videos I accidently swallowed a sizeable rabbit bone… At 10pm we heard a faint “woof” outside the door, the dogs reminded us of our promise and we gave them their rabbit treats.

Leaving was sad, but we were ready to get back to my apartment and wash our clothes. We drove back to Madrid passing through Turell. The rental was returned unscathed. At home we relaxed and had a curious dinner of Kraft Mac and Cheese paired with gin and tonics.

Our last week together went by way to fast. Stuart and finished the tv series of Game of Thrones and spent time enjoying Madrid. On Friday I introduced him to a few of my friends from NYU, and had him lead us in a very educational wine tasting with all the wines we had collected on our journeys. Like every time we travel, Stu and I have a great time. We were lucky to have such a great month together. Tomorrow morning will be a shock for both of us; I dive back into a full course load and Stuart completes the most difficult leg of his trek, equivalent to a Marathon!

Time for a Recap; Granada, Cordoba, Santander, and Seville

Looking up from my Spanish history books I was shocked to see that someone had torn two months off my calendar. How can it possibly be November?

I feel sick that I have not kept my blog current. As each day passes and I experience new and wondrous things I feel myself slipping behind my favorite project. Given in Switzerland I was free to gallivant and blog. Graduate school doesn’t lend the same freedoms. The program is exciting and fulfilling, it requires all of my attention.

Rather than attempt to record every detail from the last two months I will summarize and highlight select memories.

School- Love it. My days are filled with the history of Latin America and Spain. For Spain we dove into history post Visigoth Spain, in 711 when the first Muslim leader established Al Andaluz, jetting forward to the era of the Reconquista and into the times of los Reyes Catolicos. Up until the 1492 the history of Spain is formed by the interactions between the 3 major religions; Islam, Judaism and Christianity. Reading Menocal’s Joya del Mundo gave my trips to al Andaluz new meaning.

In the last two months I took several trips to through out Spain: Santander, Segovia and Seville. The most recent adventure led me to Granada and Cordoba with Jessie, Meghan, Marissa and Nina.

   

 Granada was the last Muslim territory before it fell to the Isabel y Ferdinand in 1492. After the first wave of the Reconquista the Arab kings were given permission to keep Granada as a Muslim territory. During the 13^th and 14^th century Granada experienced a flourishing of culture. This prosperity is reflected in La Alhambra built between 1238 and 1358.

The foreboding exterior of La Alhambra viewed from the Sacremonte produces a sense of awe only surpassed by the lavish palace of its interior. We spent nearly an entire day exploring the grounds. I could easily imagine La Alhambra in its prime; a paradise filled with fruit trees and lush patios.

Nina narrated from a Rick Steve’s guidebook downloaded onto her Kindle. As we moved from room to room she enlightened us with anecdotes and eccentric trivia. Perhaps the most moving section of the lesson, the fateful day when the city was defeated and Andalucía fell to the Christians. Imagine the Cross being erected over centuries arab culture and tradition.

                    

After conquering Granada the Catholic kings did some redecorating. We visited the palace of Carlos V, constructed in perfect Renaissance form. I noted the Hapsburg embellishments throughout the arab palace as well.

The Sultans main room, la Gran Salon de los Embajadores would later be used by the king and queen of Spain. Here under the decadent Moorish carved ceilings Christopher Columbus would present his plans to the queen of Spain requesting to travel to the Indies.

We spent two days in this magical city, wandering narrow cobble stone streets, drinking mint tea and avoiding the gypsies and their rosemary. (For anyone who has visited Granada you are familiar with the 50,000 gitanos there, perhaps like my friend Jessie you have been hypnotized by one and given them 20 euros.)  On our last night we splurged on a fancy dinner at a Carmen with spectacular nocturnal views of the Alhambra. I fell in love with Granada. I recommend everyone read Mencol’s work, and visit Al Andaluz following Rick Steve’s dinning recommendations.

Cordoba further solidified our loyalty to the great R.S. Based on his travel guide we ate at an amazing oxtail stew (rabo de torro) and salmorejo (creamy traditional soup) at Bodegas Campos. With stomachs full of traditional fare we headed to Cordobas mosque.

  

For this history lesson we will need to jump back in time, before La Alhambra. Abd ar Rahman I built a mosque in 784. Later his descendent Abd ar Rahman III completed a great expansion of the church in the 10^th century claiming himself as caliph, and Al Andaluz as a separate and powerful Muslim center. Here arab culture prospered immeasurably. Science, philosophy, poetry advanced with great speed.

The mosque interior is forest like, with hundreds of intricately carved pillars and arcs. The original beauty of the mosque is bastardized by the architecture from other periods, catholic embellishments from Gothic to Baroque. Some people feel disgusted walking into church after church after church in Europe. The extravagance the catholic esthetic is only made worse by seeing it hover over the skeleton of a lost culture.

To be fair the church’s pamphlet does point out that the mosque was originally built over a Visigoth church. During the reign of the Moors the Visigoths retreated to the north hiding in the cliffs and forests. Traveling to Santander I imagined Monty Python like characters lurking in the woods. Christian kings and knights plotting their reconquest…

I had gone to Santander to visit my friend Alicia one of my first weeks in Spain. We had met through a professor in Oregon. Once or twice a week we would get together for a glass of wine and to practice Spanish. I stayed with her family taking in the last week of warm weather. It was quite sublime swimming in the Ocean the last week of September. I spent most of my time studying for my first exam, but managed to take in the sights and history. Alicia and her friends gave me a crash course in Spanish complete with a list of vulgar words and expressions.

 

 

The first week of October NYU arranged a trip to Seville for the Graduate students. Our guide had her PhD in history focusing on the Arab Seville, she also speaks Arabic. I found her informative, but the focus was a little narrowed. We visited the Giralada, and the large fortress, we even toured the old Jewish quarter. All fascinating, but we completely ignored everything after the 15^th century…Only focusing on this time period fails to do Seville justice. Seville WAS THE PORT TO THE NEW WORLD.

 I felt frustrated that the topic was not covered at all. Upon returning I asked my Latin American history professor for more information. She suggested an “The Bonds of Patrimony” by James Fernandez, further provoking my curiosity.  I like the idea of Seville as a center of worldly encounters, and to think of how the New World existed in the imagination of Europeans.

In our studies of Spanish culture and history we have been asked to examine the various influences that make Spain what it is today. The Mosque of Cordoba, the Alhambra, the port of Seville and the Cliffs of Santander will haunt me for some time. I feel Spain only will continue to unveil its complexity.

 
Don’t let me be misunderstood; my trips have not entirely defined by scholarly analysis. I have also let myself be silly and hedonistic. In Granda and Cordoba especially: we ate and drank copious amounts and spoke in English. Living abroad has greatly altered our ability to communicate. We are somewhere in-between, on the one hand our Spanish slowly improves, on the other we are losing our English (both colloquial and official). After 5 days with the other NYU girls my journal now contains a long list of quotes in terrible English, either direct translations or confused idioms.

Library Card

Classes started this week. Everyone in the program seems excited to be back in school. I spent the week printing syllabi and gathering texts. Most of our readings are pdf samples from other works, which means I get to upload them onto a flash drive and print them at a Spanish shop equivalent to Kinkos. An ipad would have been a good investment. They sell them here, but they are more expensive,  the number is the same but the dollar sign is changed to a eruo. As consolation I allowed myself to buy all the traditional tools for success; bright colored folders and a new stapler.

Yesterday Jessie and I spent 4 or 5 hours familiarizing ourselves with the Spanish National Library (BNE).  We will be conducting individual research in this building throughout the year. For our research workshop the first assignment appeared simple enough; obtain official research card from library (carne), locate a book and a newspaper article that interests you, make a photocopies of several pages and properly list the information in MLA style. Then write a short blurb on the experience.

Piece of cake right? Wrong. We caught on quickly, see first-hand what people mean by “Spanish Bureaucracy”. I could picture my professor chuckling to himself as he thought of his lost grad students learning the ropes at the library. I will spare you the full details of the experience. In a nutshell the assignment took a full afternoon. When I described the day to my friend Nina she said it sounded more like an episode of Legends of the Hidden Temple than a library.

“You could start by running to the room of the three gargoyles. Push in the right tongue and a door might lead you down a staircase into the wall climb. Here, you must choose your next path. You could race up to the observatory, spin the sundial and pass into the room of the golden idols. Once there, push down on their faces to release the doors, that may take you below or lead you into the shrine of the silver monkey. Assemble the statue there and you may be headed for the torch room. If the elevator is up, you could jump into the elevator and descend into the mineshaft. You might climb up the ladder or plow through the stone wall. Find the key and it may unlock the tombs of the ancient kings, allowing you to climb into the spider’s lair. If you escape, you may have a chance to sit upon the throne of the Pretender. If the correct door is unlocked, you’ll be able to crawl into pit of despair and finally make you way through the cave of size, back to the temple gate. The choices are yours and yours alone. Good luck!”

After all was said and done we needed a glass of wine. The day was long but felt productive, we completed the assignment and now have a better idea of how to manejarnos en la biblioteca.

During the evenings the schools has been offering cultural experiences for the students. We have been out to see Spanish films. Last night was Fashion night; all the stores were open late with big discounts. In the streets there were performers and models, very lively. Afterwards a few of us went to a language exchange mixer where I met some very nice people from Argentina (the only ones who can understand my Castellano.)

There is always a lot going on at night, Madrid is a very social city. Everyone eats dinner around 10pm, even the prostitutes. On my way home last night as I passed the gran via metro stop I noticed girls of all shapes in sizes wearing tiny pleather clothing sit in dark entryways and feast on Chinese food I laughed and wanted a picture but I reckon everybody’s got to eat sometime.

Another Spanish-isms besides bureaucracy and late dinners is the beer. I stop for a coffee every morning and am shocked by how many gentlemen come in and order canas (small glasses of beer). It is 10 am, do you really need a beer before work?

All in all I love Spain. Wish I had more time to write about it!

Orientation Week

NYU in Madrid’s Orientation for grad students ended yesterday with a day-trip to Segovia.  Throughout the week we met with professors for a series of cultural lectures, tours and debates. The activities were a great way to get to know the city and each other.  Below is a rough outline:

Monday we met at a cultural center, the CaixaForum for a presentation on Stéphane Hessel’sbook  Los Indignados: and the 15M movement in Spain. Currently in Spain and across Europe unrest is building amongst the youth. Hard economic times with no sign of improvement have led to the mobilization of students voicing their concerns about their future and the future of EU governments. Hessel’s pamphlet has been in heavy circulation causing protests and organized rallies to pop up all over Europe.  Our Speaker Dra. Alicia Gómez Montano, works with the press and gave insight into the changes. She explained that the role of the press has changed, that these movements are taking place without the use of newspapers and television as a form of communication. Rather than relying on traditional outlets los indignados are using social networks like Facebook and Twitter.  It is an exciting time to be in the city and in Spain. We may see a lot of changes over the next year.

 

Tuesday we watched a film by Álex de la Iglesia called La Comunidad. The film takes place in Madrid in a rundown apartment building inhabited by some very peculiar individuals. The protagonist Julia is a real-estate agent assigned to showing a vacant apartment. The ceiling crumbles in from above, allowing Julia’s curiosity gets the best of her.  She finds herself alone in a dead man’s flat with 300 million pesetas. She quickly learns the dangers of having such thoughtful neighbors as the movie spirals into a gory blood bath. After the movie we discussed the film. De la Iglesia creates a community of castizo tenants representative of Spain and the difficulties of transitioning into the European Union.

Wednesday night the graduate students had a mixer with the faculty at the NYU campus in el Viso. There are 22 people in the program, split into two concentrations; 1. Linguistics and 2. Cultural Studies and Literature. Everyone in the program comes from different educational backgrounds and experiences. Most people have spent time abroad and studied Spanish in college. After meeting with several professors with doctorates in history I feel more comfortable with my undergraduate degree. I should be able to tie my previous studies into the cultural studies track. For this semester I enrolled in 3 history courses, a grammar and composition class and a research workshop.

Thursday morning the group met a Tirso de Molina for a guided tour of Lavapies.  Standing on calle de la Magdelena our guide Maria asked us to observe the wideness and cleanliness of the street. Pointing to a security camera she explained that we were on the edge of society and with one quick turn to the left we would be entering a poorer neighborhood,  lacking Bourgeois urban planning. Narrow streets lined with graffiti slope downwards into the traditionally poor neighborhood of Lavapies.  Looking around we noticed hodgepodge buildings and laundry hanging illegally from balconies. There were also a multitude of signs for Indian, Pakistani, Korean and Thai restaurants. In the US we are accustomed to seeing immigrant communities. But in Spain this is an entirely new phenomenon. Within the last 20-30 years Spain has experienced a massive influx of immigrants from all over Asia, India and the Americas.  In Madrid, Lavapies was historically the Jewish quarter of the city but is now inhabited by thousands of foreigners. Today the city’s population is about 1/3 non-Spanish.

This shift has created many social tensions. One example offered was the competition between Asian grocers and native Spanish businesses. In Spain most shops close midday for a siesta, allowing families to eat lunch together and rest before reopening for the evening. The immigrant vendors in contrast keep their shops open all day and all night, frustrating their traditional competitors. These are deep cultural differences that have sometimes led to violence and hostility.

Another issue which Lavapies faces is gentrification. There is a push to develop tourism and business throughout the entire city of Madrid. Maria explained there is a “cleaning” of neighborhoods like Lavapies. New theaters and restaurants attract a wealthier demographic and tourism while displacing poorer inhabitants who currently reside in the community. This cleanse does nothing to resolve serious social issues, there is no push towards education or social outreach to better the community. The “problems” like prostitutes, drug dealers and gypsies are simply pushed to the peripheral of the city.

The reaction by some in the community has been quite powerful. There has been regeneration from within the barrio itself. My favorite part of the tour exemplified this. La Tabacalera is a a massive old Tabaco Product factory located in Lavapies that the city one day hopes to restore. Remarkably the lack of municipal funding has not stopped anyone in the community from pushing forward with the project. La Tabacalera has become a center for art and live music. There are classes offered daily, exhibitions, and debates. I am quite intrigued with this place and plan to spend a healthy amount of time visiting.

Friday we spent the day in Segovia, in Castile Leon, 1 hour from Madrid. We split into smaller groups and were given tours of the historic city. Our guide/professor Paco was wonderful. In traditional Spanish fashion we stopped for a leisurely café con leche before beginning the trek around the city. Afterwards he led us on a very detailed journey through the city.

At first glance Segovia is a medieval city complete with castle and stone wall. But there is so much more, Segovia shows the span and intrigue of Spain’s history.  The perfectly preserved Aqueduct boasts of the city’s Roman origins. The architecture demonstrates a complex social and religious past. For a time Christians, Jews and Muslims coexisted with in the walls of Segovia. We visited a small catholic church which was previously a Synagogue built by Muslim stone masons.  

We passed one of the main prisons used during the Inquisition. The main Cathedral, dedicated the he Virgin Mary shows a later history with an interesting mix of Gothic, Romanesque, Rococo and Baroque designs. As Paco told us-it took centuries to construct the massive churches we see across Europe. We often see of mix showing changes in styles and a fluctuation of construction funds.

The tour ended with a breath taking view atop the Alcazar of Segovia, the main fortress of Castile where Isabella la Catholic was proclaimed queen. Her reign would lead to the unification of the country and the dominance of Christianity.

 

 

After the tour I ordered cochinillo (suckling pig) THE local dish to round out the experience and a bottle of wine from a nearby vineyard.  The meal made me think of Stuart- 3 things he loves-  wine, local dishes, and pork.

Orientation was incredible. Our tours were so informative I know this post has failed to do the justice. I am excited to start classes on Monday and continue to learn about this amazing place called España.

My first week in Madrid flew by. I spent half the time lost and the other half at home on my computer trying to locate the perfect flat.

I stayed at an apartment through a  website called Air B&B. Pepople rent out rooms in their home to earn a little extra money. All users are given ratings by other users based on their experiences with each other. My host, Arturo had a perfect rating and lived up to my expectations.

I had gone to 4 or 5 other apartments but was not completely sold on any of them. They were either located far from the city center or were shared with non-Spanish speakers. The whole world is currently seeking apartments in Madrid  so options are limited. This Friday I found a very nice flat in the city center for a relatively affordable price. Unfortunately none of my roommates are Spaniards, which made me hesitate signing the lease. But I can leave the flat with a month’s notice and have my deposit returned to me. So when the flat hunting scene clams down in the fall I might try and find something more authentic.

 

By day I was a classified reading guru, by night a bubbly socialite. Several people in the program decided to meet up for a potluck. Since that night I have surprised myself by staying out until 6 am at various bars. Call it a Spanish time warp if you like, but something happens at night. You can leave your house at 10 pm to relax in a plaza full of people. Glancing at your watch moments later you will note that the sun is about to rise.  -Without classes this week let everyone cut lose. It feels good to be making friends with people in the program, now we just need to add some Spanish folk into the mix!

This weekend I did make time for some art and cultura. I swung by La Reina Sofia to take another glance a Yayoi Kusama’s exhibition. I was unaware of her work before, but found her drug related psychedelic works quite fascinating. She is most remembered for her creation of surreal spaces and creating unique moods with lights dots and splattered paint. She was also known for her antiwar protests in NYC and creating wild happenings with NY’s hippie youth.

First Sunday in Madrid

Last night I caught up on sleep. My air-conditioned room made for ideal slumbering conditions.

This morning I woke up and had breakfast with my computer, browsing tourism sites looking for advice on my first day in the city. Madrid.com recommended I start in El Rastro. Ever Sunday there is a flea market full a quirky vendors.

I hoped on the subway, which is very clean and easy to navigate. I found my way to the market and wandered amongst the stalls snapping a few pictures along the way. People were selling everything; fans, hand painted pottery, shoes, pashmina scarfs,   I even saw fanny packs.

 

Yesterday my impression of Madrid reminded me of Buenos Aires. But today I saw winding streets centuries older. I walked most of old town popping my head into little tapas bars to see people bellied up to the bar for a quick bite to eat.

 

 

When it came time for my turn to eat I fulfilled Stuart’s request that I go to Casa del Abuelo. We had gone to this tapas bar the first time we were in Spain. Throughout the day I saw many things that reminded me of Stu, I even passed the hostel we stayed in back in 2008. I ordered a glass of house wine and some garlic shrimp. Being back there got me really excited for the year ahead.

 

 

My Spanish feels a little weak. But people don’t automatically assume I am American. The waiter from Abuelo’s asked “Italiana?”. The accent here is quite different, and I haven’t had to speak Spanish in a few months. I think school and moving in with Spanish roommates will help immensely.

 

After lunch I wandered down Paseo del Prado and hooked a right towards La Reina Sofia. I love this museum. They have an excellent collection of modern art and house Picasso’s Guernica. I found out the museum is free on Sundays, but closes early. I plan to go back next weekend in the morning so I can do a full tour.

I continued my walk, allowing myself to walk down random streets and get a little lost. I had a map in my pocket and knew I could find my way home at any point. I spent a good stretch of time in Retiro Park before heading back to my apartment.

Speaking of my apartment; Arturo’s place is great. I am so glad I went with Air B &B. Here are a few photos of the flat.

 

 

This afternoon I am doing some reading for school and starting my apartment hunt. My adventure today gave me a good feel for neighborhoods, I have some ideas where I’d like to dwell. Tomorrow I plan to see NYU’s campus and hopefully visit a few living options.

Travel Hell and Lifelines

Day 2 at the airport consisted of a lot of awkward napping, people watching and mindless zombie like window shopping. Having the shops and cafes open made the time pass much quicker. The free wifi was also a great tool. As I was still on standby it was unclear when I would be leaving for Madrid. By browsing travel sites I noticed that “my” flight was now available for sale. I felt a little sick to my stomach that they would attempt selling the seats before rewarding them to the standbys stranded in Limbo.

When I saw the post I marched right over to the Customer Service desk and demanded a ticket. I had no intention of backing down; I was getting on that plane! The woman behind the desk finally caved and gave me an official boarding pass.

Around noon I sat at a chain called Vino Vollo for a glass of wine and some cheese I spent some time listening to my audiobook and wrote a little bit about my experience.

Before long it was time to board. The flight was completely packed, but I didn’t mind. We took our seats and waited to leave the gate. An hour later the same Irish accent came over the announcer to let us know that our flight had been delayed AGAIN due to another wave of storms on the coast.

Another hour passed before they offered a solution of rerouting our flight southward to avoid the storms. This would require more fuel; we would have to wait for the necessary forms to be filed and the fuel truck to arrive. Moments later lightning struck near the grounds which added an additional 30 minutes on to our wait.

Eventually the truck arrived. We were fueled and ready to go, that is, until another plane in Taxi broke down behind us and blocked our path.

3 hours passed like they had the night before. With 60 minutes left on the clock before losing our flight again the captain proclaimed our departure. As the cart towing us to the run way pulled us out I felt a sense of relief. Until we found that the bar connecting the plane and tugcart were stuck…

I directed my attention to a book. When I looked up again we were taking off. I wonder how things could have been worse; I half expected the plane to burst into flames.

I woke up in Madrid. Customs were a breeze, but baggage claim took almost 2 hours. I was just happy that my entire luggage made the connection.

I wheeled myself towards the atms to sacar Euros. I was beyond ready to leave when I saw DENIED flash over the screen. I tried multiple atms and for various amounts, nothing. I planned to sue the money for a personal remis/shuttle. The clerk attempted to run my cards as well with no such luck.

I found myself without access to funds and a huge cart of luggage.  I knew I needed to get in touch with my family, and fast, before their flight left for Oregon. I was crying and had to beg people for change. Eventually I gathered enough to purchase 30 minutes of internet access. It was starting to feel like a game show, I needed lifelines immediately.

Luckily my parents were available and tried to call the bank, which was closed for the weekend. Before I timed out I scratched down my dad’s credit card # and rushed back to the desk. The clerk at the shuttle station was very helpful and was able to successful process the $20 shuttle fee.

Before long I was standing in Arturo’s air-conditioned apartment. I was so happy to be out of the airport. I showered and passed out for 4 hours.

When I woke I resumed my attempts to contact my bank. I was getting hungry, and cranky. It became clear that my bank wouldn’t be able to do much until Monday. I understand that they want to protect their customers from fraud abroad, but a little customer support on the weekends would be nice.

Looking through my wallet I noticed my debit card for my joint act with Stu. I called him through Skype, he came right to my rescue and put enough funds in my act to tide me over until Monday or Tuesday. I don’t know what I would of done without his help or the support of my family.

I was able to get some euros. After everything I am pretty wiped. But I know it will get better soon. I went for a walk and bought a baguette and cheese.  While walking the aisles I saw a few old friends.

    

On the way home I stopped for a glass of wine and to get a feel for my neighborhood. I’m still not sure where I am in the city, but I have some time to figure things out.  It started raining, which makes me feel better about going to bed early. I hope to get an early start tomorrow and do some exploring. Maybe I’ll have some coffee on the terrace and read a guide book to Madrid.

Here’s to hoping that the hard stuff is over. I’m glad I survived, and I want to thank everyone who helped me along the way!

Emotional Roller Coaster

http://babyboonebumpblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/quinn-annabelle-boone-august-18-2011.html

The entire summer seemed to be building up to one single moment. I stood in line waiting to board my flight to Spain worrying if Megan would have her baby before I left. Something about the 18^th felt special,  Grandpa James’ 5 year anniversary, it seemed as thoughhe was looking out for us letting the events of the day culminate in a dramatic cinema fashinon.

 With only a few minutes left I called Andrews cellphone, through the static I heard the screams of my infant niece, Quinn Annabelle Boone. My heart swelled to hear her belt her little lungs out and I burst into hysterical tears of joy.  Knowing that my sister and niece came back healthy is an indescribable feeling. It is hard to express how much I love someone I haven’t even met yet!

The past few months had been an emotional rollercoaster. We watched Megan’s belly and my two suitcases grow and grow and  GROW! When her due date passed it became even more suspenseful. On top of the baby and planning my year abroad, my family also had to face the inevitable loss of our loyal golden retriever, Crickett. Her white mask showed her 14 years of life. We watched her fade and eventually decided to put her to rest.

One Saturday we spent our last morning with Crickett by taking a boat ride and feeding her gourmet bread from the Patisserie.- She always was a carboholic. Saying goodbye wasn’t easy, but she went peacefully, just closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  Somehow it felt right to let her go and to end her suffering. We laid her to rest on the hill with our other animals. That evening we toasted to her life and talked about all the happy memories shared together at the lake.

With all that had come to pass this summer I found myself crying worse than the newborn as I boarded  my flight. I took my seat and waited for takeoff. The excitement of Spain mingled in with bitter-sweetly with a desire to hold my niece and stay at the lake forever. It was a deep mix of knowing I love where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going. I took a deep breath know that in the morning I would wake up in Madrid and starting a new adventure.

That is until the skies opened and a wild thunderstorm canceled my flight. The conditions were so severe that they could not get us of the plane. We sat on the Amtrak for 4 hours. When the rain finally ceased the captain reluctantly announced that our flights would need to be rebooked. The crew had exceeded their maximum legal shifts.

We were directed to a customer service line 300+ people long.  I was in disappointed, but also in shock. So much had been crammed into one day, I wasn’t quite sure how to process the situation. I waited for 3 hours in line for my turn to speak with a representative. All of the flights for the following day would not be until the evening, and were already overbooked.

I was placed on standby and was told I would probably have to wait until the following day. I accept that weather challenges travel and you have to go with the flow, but 48-72 hrs in an airport sounded terrible. I took my paper work and headed to a corner to curl up for the night. Earlier that day I had seen a girl my age wheeling an oversized koala bear on her luggage. At the time I thought she looked like an idiot, but at 3am without a bed I would have killed for a similar stuffed animal.

In the morning when the stores reopened I splurged a leopard print neck pillow.  I slept for a while before heading to Starbucks for a big coffee. At checkout I spotted a penny on the floor and snatched it up luck. This time round the CS desk they were able to give me an actual ticket. Tonight I leave on the same flight; hopefully that penny continues to do the trick.Remeber I still have to survive customs in Spain!

Paranoia and the Big Apple

The application process for student visas these days is quite involved. Mine required that I make a special trip to the Spanish Consulate in NYC to present myself and a stack of papers; including a FBI background check. For a few months I felt stressed wondering whether my student visa application would be lost, burnt, eaten, stolen, or REJECTED . Paranoia even had me sleeping with the documents under my pillow in a NYC hostel the night before my appointment.  I flew directly from Oregon to NYC for the presentation. My nerves were starting to get the best of me. Finally I reached the 30^th floor of a Midtown building where I was ushered in warmly by a clerk. She glanced at a few sheets and told me to have a nice time in Spain. With my main task complete I was free to explore and enjoy the city. I was 16 the last time I went to NYC. My dad’s company had organized a bus trip for its employees around the holidays for some shopping. We were let off on Broadway, stopped in Macy’s and had dinner in Little Italy. On this trip I had more time; I spent 6 days wandering and museum hopping.  I was on my own the first 3 days and walked endlessly, stopping here and there for a slice of pizza or to take a picture. I have always loved being a face in the crowd. Instantly I felt like I belonged. Sure people were wealthier and more fashionable than myself, but I felt a connection to individualist scene, people moving quickly, through huge crowds were somehow all in their own little worlds. I loved the shops, the art, the history. I stopped at quite a few landmarks; the MOMA for a little art fix. I spent a several hours roaming up in Central Park and down in Grenich Village. I felt excited to see NYU banners near Washington Square, although I have no idea where any of my department buildings were scattered. My parents met me near my hostel at Columbus Circle on the 3^rd day. We drove through the tunnel into Jersey to check out a used Volvo dealership. After a few hours looping around in circles on the Jersey Turnpike we arrived and purchased a new car. With Jersey behind us we took a bus back into the city and walked 65 blocks to Little Italy for dinner. Our family had always gone to the same place, La Mela’s on Mulberry Street. This time I suggested we try something new. Sophia’s was inferior but not a total waste of time. We ate and headed back to our hotel, exhausted from our Jersey adventure. The next day we woke up early and headed to Rockefeller Center for a trip to the top. The views were stunning. The elevators rocket up and down the building all day. Before long we were at the base of the building walking around the plaza. We spotted a nice wine bar called Morrel’s and stopped for a bottle outside.

Mom and I hadn’t had girl talk since December.  A few glasses in and we were gabbing up a storm. It felt so good to be back with my parents and to spend a small vacation together. I thought the city might overwhelm my parents, but they seemed to have a great time. We fit a lot into a few short days; the MET, Guggenheim, China Town, some swanky bars for happy hour.  I could see us going back again for another culture fillled adventure.

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Reflection on my time in Oregon

Now might be a good time to reflect on the past year and update readers about future plans.

March 2010 Stuart and I moved to Corvallis Oregon so he could complete some post graduate courses in OSU’s Fermentation Science Program. His dream of becoming a winemaker stemmed from our experiences in Argentina and previous travels abroad. We spent a considerable amount of time in the vineyards of Mendoza, Cafayte and some vines outside of Montevideo, Uruguay.

Corvallis, OR population 50,000 give or take was a decent place to live with a quirky downtown. The combination of wealthy granola eaters and tanning bed kissed college students made for an interesting mix. Bikes, organic produce, new age herbal medicines mingled with sweat pants skate boards and book bags.

On a sunny day the town and the country side were beautiful. Little mossed covered roofs dotted along the landscape, making it quite fairytale like. Unfortunately it rained 5 out of 7 days. The striking purples blues and greens of the Willamette Valley were hidden by a shroud of grey rain and dreary fog.  I suppose living in an apartment with only 3 windows didn’t help our vitamin D deficiencies.

Stuart settled quickly into the program, making friends and engaging in his studies. I put my mind to work on our flat and looked for a job.

By May I had found a job at a local wine shop that shall not be named.  During the first 80 days or so of my employment I was introduced to some mediocre overpriced wines and an unstable employer.

By July my position was terminated; anyone who talked to me around this time will know the whole story.  After the initial shock wore off, my mind was put at ease when I learned I was not the first employee to have a negative experience with this business. The owner has quite the reputation for being a monster. Moving forward I set my sights on a new job, any job

I spent the next 3 weeks looking, and eventually found a job as a bank teller in the next town over, Philomath, Oregon population 4,008.

I was happy to have a paycheck, but the job had little more to offer. Most mornings I found myself waking up saying “ick” before zipping up my company logo fleece and driving to work. With a boring routine and a dismal climate it became clear that I needed to find something stimulating outside of the workplace to keep myself sane.

Slightly disenchanted with the North West wine scene; Spanish, an area in which I had seen considerable growth during my time abroad was the obvious choice. I enrolled in classes through OSU and joined the Spanish Club. I also began volunteering at the Acorn Center,  a multicultural center which works with the local Latino Community.

Acron is the brain child of Ellen Ogle and is a center for advocacy. From translation services to English clases Acron Center fosters a sense of community. I found the work to be rewarding and exciting. I learned a lot about Latino interests in Corvallis and a little bit about myself; I truly enjoy teaching, especially teaching Spanish.

Teaching English presented an awkward challenge. Trying to explain and break down a tool that comes naturally is very difficult. Whereas Spanish, something I have approached as a student is much more enjoyable to dissect and teach. For a time I helped teach a Spanish glass to a group of older women who were retired and had plans to travel. The majority of my time was spent teaching English, which was a rewarding in the sense that it helped empower my students in their daily lives. Within the first few months the relevance of Spanish in America’s future became very evident.

With the encouragement of Stuart I decided to apply to graduate school. It has been a life dream to return to Spain. So I began looking at a few Spanish Universities with plans to go even if I were rejected from US universities.

I poured all of my effort into my application. After a few frightening interviews and a long….. silent… waiting period I received word.  The memory will be vivid in my mind for some time: it was raining on my 15 minute break from work. I crossed the main road to the McDonalds. I shook of the rain and flipped open my laptop for a quick WiFi indulgence.

In my inbox was a note from NYU. “Dear Ashley…. Congratulations!… Accepted to our Masters Program in Madrid”.

Since that day I have been making plans for my year abroad.  This included several months of prep for my student visa application.

I stayed in Oregon until the end of May.  The last few weekends we spent gathering with friends, gallivanting in Protlandia and on the other side of the Mountain visiting Andrew, Jackson, Megan and her baby bump.

Oregonians love Oregon, in the Willamette Valley I never fully understood why.    But for those who think I have been too harsh on Oregon  here is a list of things I will miss :

1.Stuart and I love Bend, where it is sunny and mountainous. I’ll miss the short drive over the pass to see the Boones. It was really nice living so close to my sister, especially as she prepared for her first baby.  I was happy we made it to Pull Peddle Paddle to see Andrew win.

2. The wonderful people we met through Stuart’s program. It is a real plus having friends in the fermentation business who also love to cook. I’ll really miss our dinners, wine tastings/tours.

3. My volunteer work and the Spanish Club- I love being involved

4. Portland- I love that weird quirky city.

5. Biking- I loved having a cruiser bike too get around town.

6. The coast- nothing like a weekend camping at the beach

My departure wasn’t sad or dramatic, I was ready to leave the rain!   It felt good to have everything packed up and organized. Our stay in Corvallis may have been temporary, but judging by the amount of stuff we acumilated it looked as though we had been their for years. Thankfully most things had come from the thrift store and were not valuable in the moniterary or sentimental sense. De hecho, we donated most things to the Acorn center.

I knew I would miss Stuart but our goodbye was tear free, in 20 days we would be meeting up North Carolina.  All of the upcoming adventures made it easier to leave. 2010 had been a formative year that motivated me to presue some big life goals. All in all I was grateful for the experiences I had, but I don’t see myself going back to stay