tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634778228028877402024-03-13T12:51:41.508-04:00From Appalachia to AndalucíaI've left my life in the Blue Ridge Mountains of the Old North State to take on
an endeavor of academics and adventure in Spain and beyond.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-66269098402711541102012-05-28T04:22:00.001-04:002012-05-28T04:22:16.416-04:00Days 123-125: And the trip begins!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Our trip has officially started and so far so great! Saturday morning we had a lovely breakfast with my friends Kelsey, Trevor, Jody, Chuck, Ally, and Rebecca to send us off in style, it's the hardiest breakfast I've had in a while and oh man was it good! Pancakes, eggs, strawberries, bacon, and mimosa's made for a great send off, we even made it to the airport early with all that extra energy only to find out that my friend Joni would be taking the same flight as us all the way to London Gatwick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> After a short flight from Sevilla to London we parted ways with Joni and hopped our trains all the way to Cookham, UK. A few connections and an hour later we found ourselves pulling up to the station in quiet little Cookham. We were welcomed on the platform by our hostesses for the weekend, the lovely Laura Wall and her oh-so-grown up daughter Addison; Steven and Barclay were back at the house cooking up some dinner. The Walls' have moved temporarily to England, but they're originally family friends from the hood in Greensboro, I think they're adapting quite well to life here in the UK as Laura and Steven both are pros at driving on the left hand side (something I still get confused with when crossing the street). Laura took us on a quick driving tour of all the little villages near by, some of which were so small that you'd zip by them if you weren't paying attention. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We spent the evening eating dinner together then we did a pub circuit to the local watering hole's: The Jolly Farmer and Uncle Tom's Cabin (not of <i>that</i> fame....). We tried a few pints of the local ales (which weren't too warm), and hung out with the locals who were having a fancy dress party (aka costume party) to celebrate a couple of birthdays. Rebecca and I were quite exhausted from traveling all day, so the quiet evening with Laura and Steven was absolutely perfect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The next morning after breakfast Addison took Rebecca and I on a hike up to the vista point that over looks the hills and towns below. Although the gray clouds looked threatening, we managed to escape the rain and we all took turns frolicking through the fields at the top of the hill (there is video evidence I promise....). After our hike Laura and the kids drove us to near-by Windsor to drop us off. <br /> Windsor is the town that houses Windsor Castle, a favorite resident of the Queen herself who just happened to be in residence at the time of our tour. We didn't see any sign of her, aside from the flag that marked that she was in, but she was kind enough to allow us on the property and so we weren't too offended that she didn't invite us in for tea. The Castle is enormous and incredibly lavish, almost overwhelmingly so. After touring the castle we walked around the town, took a stroll down the Long Walk, at some pasties, and before we knew it Steven was there to pick us up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The rest of Sunday we headed over to a smaller town called Marlow where we walked around, took the backstreets, and watched a match of cricket. That night we had another delicious meal cooked by Steven and were the cheering section for the kids. It was so great to be able to hang out with the entire Wall family, the two kids are growing up so fast and have already mastered the English accent (watch out Broadway, Addison is headed your way). I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity to experience quiet English countryside living with such fabulous family friends, I wish we could have stayed longer, Laura really knows how to show guests a good time! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> So I'll end this post with a much too brief thank-you to Laura, Steven, Addison, and Barclay for giving us the best start to our trip that we could have hoped for. Although our stay was short, you all really gave us some great insight into what your life is like there in Cookham, I feel so so so lucky to know you all!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"> Monday we said our good-byes and headed off by train to Kings Cross station where we would catch our EastCoast rail to Edinburgh. More to come about that, Scotland has been a real treat with visits in Edinburgh and, my favorite, the Isle of Skye. Also soon to come will be some photos, the computer here at the Castle Rock Hostel isn't liking my memory card so my plans to upload aren't going so well, check back soon for photos of the trip so far. We head to Prague this afternoon!</span>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0Cookham, Windsor and Maidenhead, UK51.558437 -0.70774151.538692999999995 -0.747223 51.578181 -0.66825899999999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-82679582927229806062012-05-18T06:42:00.002-04:002012-05-18T06:42:44.161-04:00Day 122: The Gear for the Trip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So this is what all is going on the trip:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And this is what it looks like when it's in my backpack:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For any of you gear nerds wondering what kind of pack that is, it's an Osprey Talon 44 (they better pay me for that advertisement), I have clothes for 4-5 days and plan on doing laundry in every new city, I have my dslr two lens kit, three pairs of shoes, toiletries, journal, maps, and sound recorder along with a few other knick knacks like playing cards, rain cover, etc. We'll see if I brought too much or not enough here in the next few days.....</span>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-59483136701176686322012-05-18T05:09:00.001-04:002012-05-18T05:13:34.934-04:00The final days of Sevilla <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rebecca has arrived as you might have seen from my last post, since that moment I've been busy with hanging out with her, planning the last bit of our trip, studying for finals, and trying to take in Sevilla as much as possible. The only trouble with the last one has been the suppressing heat wave that we've been enduring for the past week, the temperatures have soared unexpectedly, so much so that I have seen a rating of 47ºC on some of the thermometers (116ºF). We went from a pleasant spring to hot-hot-hot way too quickly for my liking, something that has required a severe and quick adaptation to the spanish way of siestas, and finally learning the bus system to avoid walking in the afternoon heat.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> On Thursday night Erin had a despedida (going away party) where we all had a chance to hang out, eat some tapas, drink some tinto, and enjoy each others' company for one of our last times here in Sevilla. I can't begin to explain how grateful I am for each and every person in this group that I've grown close to this semester, luckily I'll be seeing many of them on the other side of the pond and very soon.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Last Friday was the last time for me to hang out with Ramon, Manolo, Manuel, and the rest of the Sevilla bluegrass crowd that I mentioned in an earlier post. I was elated to be able to share that experience with Rebecca as well as with everyone who followed my wild goose chase to the bar which includes Kelsey, Trevor, Rose, Joni, Sabrina, Erin, Jennie, and Jenna. Both Rebecca and myself had the chance to hop up on stage to play with the Surrounders, we have video to prove it but lack the internet connection to allow the upload so here's some photos:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I had finals all this week and so Rebecca has taken to busking (playing in the streets) while I'm at school or studying as a means of entertainment (she's also been doing some touring too):</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This semester we've had the semi-tradition of eating Sunday dinners together, we being Sabrina, Joni, Sam, and Erin so on Monday night (thanks to finals), we had our last dinner together at Rose's apartment in Alameda, I fried up some hot-water cornbread, there was salad, a delicious swordfish filet that Rose cooked, tinto de verano, and a bunch of other yummy snacks. After eating way too much food, we all went to sit in the plaza Alameda de Hercules to enjoy the evening breeze and to play a little music. We managed to make a few new friends along the way: </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While things were cooking Rebecca and I went up on the roof to take in the <br />beauty that is Sevilla at night.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This entire group of bikers and skaters stopped just long enough to hear Rebecca sing Long Black Veil.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> I wish I had more time to write about what's been going on this past week, but since our flight for London leaves tomorrow afternoon, I'm a little pressed for time at the moment. I am so excited to have Rebecca here with me and to share Sevilla with her. We're about to embark on a truly unique adventure in just about 24 hours and I'm glad to have her by my side through all of these experiences. For now I'm just about packed up here in the Contreras household (my host family), lucky for me I will see them in June since Gumer is letting me keep my big suitcase, guitar, and banjo at the house while we're traveling for 3 weeks. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Today is our going away reception for my university, Universidad Pablo de Olavide, which is being held here in Sevilla at the local amusement park: <a href="http://www.islamagica.es/">Isla Mágica</a>. It's going to be a good evening full of rides, fun, and goodbyes', I'm hoping the heat will stay away long enough for us to be able to enjoy being outside. After that I'll have my final dinner with the whole family (Jenna leaves tomorrow at 4:30am-yikes!), do some final packing and attempt to sleep a little before my alarm goes off at 7:30am. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We're embarking in style as Trevor and Kelsey have come up with the genius idea of having a full blown breakfast to send everyone off, complete with mimosa's, pancakes, and eggs. The first place I stayed in Sevilla will be the last place I leave tomorrow (at least until I come back on June 11th).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> So here's the final paragraph, the one that's supposed to be filled with wistful wisdom talking about all that I've learned, the things I'll miss, my favorite places I won't be seeing....but c'mon now, there's no time! I've got a bag to pack, people to see, and a roller coaster to ride- no time for such sappiness! Check back here over the next few weeks for some bits and pieces of our adventure around Europe, for now here's a summary of what's to come in the next 26 days:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>May 19th</b>-London/Cookham, England and staying with the Walls!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>May 21st</b>- Edinburgh, Scotland</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>May 23rd</b>- Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland, for a Fiddle and Accordion Festival</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>May 26th</b>- Back to Edinburgh, going to a ceilidh (scottish country dance) on Saturday</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>May 28th</b>- Fly to Prague, Czech Republic, (there is talk of going to the gypsy music festival or the jazz festival)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>June 2nd</b>- Train to Berlin, Germany, staying with my friend Anna and hopefully getting to see Rose and Sabrina, as well as my friend Nora from high school.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>June 6th</b>- Fly to Barcelona, Spain</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>June 10th</b>- my little brother Jesse graduates from high school (an important date in general, although I won't be there but I definitely will be thinking about how proud I am of my not-so-little little brother)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>June 11th</b>- Fly to Sevilla, Spain, staying with my friend Asha, taking in the last few days of Sevilla and hoping that we don't melt.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>June 13th</b>- Fly home at 6:30am (0030 EST), I'll be back in Greensboro by 10:30pm EST</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All that in the next 26 days....whew.</span></div>
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-16238282077501484912012-05-11T04:27:00.001-04:002012-05-11T04:27:23.197-04:00Day 114: Rebecca Jones Has Arrived!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> That's right folks, she's here! Rebecca Jones made it here without a hitch and managed to come on the hottest day in Sevilla that I've seen yet. Day one and she's already a tapas eating pro, knows how to take a siesta, and even met my host parents! More updates to come as these last few days of my adventure in Sevilla draw to a close and as the almost 4 week adventure around Europe begins. ¡Hasta luego!</span>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-58705880178402425932012-05-09T17:33:00.003-04:002012-05-09T17:33:47.552-04:00Where has the time gone? As you might image, with that last post being almost a month late, I've been rather busy these past few weeks. I've had an amazing and BUSY past few weeks with having Gillie come visit me, 10 days with my Mom, Dad, and Mebane during Feria de Abril in Sevilla and traveling to Ronda, Estepona, and Gibraltar, I've been planning and booking for my 3.5 week backpacking trip, going to a festival to celebrate Pete Seegers' birthday (where I got to play on a small stage), preparing for Rebecca's arrival (WHICH IS TOMORROW), and wrapping up all of my school work.<br />
That being said, I'm not sure how much time this next week and a half is going to leave me for catching up on my blog, if I have time to post details I will, but if not I hope that quick summary will suffice. I wish I had more time to write about everything above, especially the week that my parents came, but I can't make any promises.<br />
Rebecca and I have everything booked as far as transportation and accommodation go for our trip that starts on May 19th, all that's left is showing her around Sevilla, taking some exams, sharing these last few days with my friends here, printing our boarding passes, packing our bags, and we're off.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-41619699164563660512012-05-09T13:21:00.000-04:002012-05-09T17:24:01.695-04:00Semana Santa Part Two: Roadtrippin' Portugal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erin and Sam...are we there yet?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thumbs up for the best driver this side of the Atlantic!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Our adventure began fairly early (9am) on Thursday of Semana Santa, we all met up (some of us later than others) and took the bus to the airport to pick up our sweet new rental, a 2007 Ford Fiesta. Fiesta we had indeed.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> We piled into the cute (and a bit small) manual drive, Rose was behind the wheel, I was riding shotgun, and Sam, Joni, & Erin sat in the cozy backseat. We set off without directions, just an urge for adventure, a full tank of gas, open road, and a general direction to head in (that is until Erin’s phone finally got service...then we MapQuest-ed it). </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Our destination: Lisbon, Portugal</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Our first stop was a cute little town called Faro. Really it was just an excuse to get out and stretch our legs, there wasn’t much to see, but it was a good break from the Fiesta. We saw a great street art mural, a little bit of the inter-coastal waterway, and grabbed some ice cream before hitting the road again. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These kids have a knack for finding playgrounds</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Two and half hours later we rolled into Lisbon. Although we got a little turned around (partly my fault and partly the fault of Portugal for having really confusing road signs), we eventually found the apartment where we’d be CouchSurfing. Pedro, our host for the weekend, was still at work so we took the opportunity to walk around the neighborhood and found ourselves in a really neat little park just up the hill. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> After playing on the playground and watching a great sunset we headed back to meet Pedro. Pedro was absolutely the greatest CouchSurfing host you could ever hope for. Not only is he sweet, welcoming, and excited to share his country with you, he also offered us one of the coolest apartments ever to stay in for the weekend. For free. All to ourselves. That’s right, thanks again to the amazing organization CouchSurfing, we got to meet this wonderful person and stayed in our own private top-floor penthouse. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the terrace</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging in the living room, check out that cool mood lighting.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78Z9GNzlMrPrdDVKYu7XsXfrZPmulk0ALeIm9bqqNLnlULzaTplQPG8IdCSAMq9ycIOxIEnk6Zcyqr2JEYF0x1aW4SRVVSUnUT5XhpNzfdTzWsGTv56DS0_BkqBMhmwmrfO9oyLkMK0Q/s1600/IMG_3250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78Z9GNzlMrPrdDVKYu7XsXfrZPmulk0ALeIm9bqqNLnlULzaTplQPG8IdCSAMq9ycIOxIEnk6Zcyqr2JEYF0x1aW4SRVVSUnUT5XhpNzfdTzWsGTv56DS0_BkqBMhmwmrfO9oyLkMK0Q/s320/IMG_3250.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bed hanging over Erin's and Rose's</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> That night we went to eat at a really delicious Nepalese restaurant and I had the first spicy food since moving to Spain, something I’ve really missed. We ate spicy masala, drank the local beer called Sagres, tried Portugese almond liqueur and almond brandy, and had a great time getting to know Pedro, and although the bill was a little more than we had intended, it was all worth it. That night we stayed in and I slept in a <i>very </i>comfortable Brazilian hammock, which reminded me of how much I miss hanging in my ENO hammock!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZ2eASl661EYmXOuty1KT5nlEkNL3OKnEA1tx1v9oNj-rFNHCiOaTA8vzqXdIDMhtIVdHaGvR_kQ9hgkV3K9vcwAlGVlvzHxyrRk1v0wLrn_ZbViYoDffRaZ1ng79uVTHb7Im6Ly3OSQ/s1600/IMG_3256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZ2eASl661EYmXOuty1KT5nlEkNL3OKnEA1tx1v9oNj-rFNHCiOaTA8vzqXdIDMhtIVdHaGvR_kQ9hgkV3K9vcwAlGVlvzHxyrRk1v0wLrn_ZbViYoDffRaZ1ng79uVTHb7Im6Ly3OSQ/s320/IMG_3256.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next day we started our Friday morning with a café and a fresh baked pastry from the bakery on the street below us, it was our morning ritual for our entire time in Portugal since they made some delicious, cheap, and fresh pastries. I tried a new one (or two) everyday!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pedro sitting with us on a wall over looking one of the beaches<br />in Cascais.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just sittin' on another wall in Cascais</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a little windy...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aren't they just precious? L-R Rose, Joni, Sam, & Erin</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just around the corner from the surf competition</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching the surf competition, friends in the foreground,<br />Cabo da Roca in the background, sky above, and sand below.<br />It's a good way to be!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Pedro, who aside from being a great host and a dental technician, spends some of his time working for a tour guide company called <a href="http://wehatetourismtours.com/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0225a3; text-decoration: underline;">We Hate Tourism Tours</span></a> (check out this awesome video of him: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKu6xurTAE8&feature=player_embedded"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0225a3; text-decoration: underline;">Costas</span></a>) which means he knows the best of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the best. He drove us to a beach town called Cascais where we walked around, sat on some walls enjoying the ocean view, ate the best mango and coconut gelato this side of Italy, and took in some sun. From there we sat on the beach and watched a surf competition before driving up to the most western point of continental Europe: Cabo da Roca. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joni on her perch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you squint really hard I swear you can see the US....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEige90kTS3ZCIwsYhHUfRePnOZAOkrBmZvALdWR5KXPSeBgsTjR-6a5f7ZbNLtrmtLx8zN-4DanuUbWZOboCnR3tAgf1Hsc9M2d0xOvHJyRbY9PnnR4oXFqdC4ph_ouJqFUtm1vbdqrWVo/s1600/IMG_3554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEige90kTS3ZCIwsYhHUfRePnOZAOkrBmZvALdWR5KXPSeBgsTjR-6a5f7ZbNLtrmtLx8zN-4DanuUbWZOboCnR3tAgf1Hsc9M2d0xOvHJyRbY9PnnR4oXFqdC4ph_ouJqFUtm1vbdqrWVo/s320/IMG_3554.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmm fresh roadside Pão com chouriço da praia...</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> My goodness was this a beautiful place to be, we got there just in time to see a rainbow arcing over the hills as the rain passed by us. We stayed in the beautiful spot atop the cliffs of Portugal until it was just about sunset, from there Pedro drove us through a really </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">cool town called Sintra before driving us down the scenic route on the way towards ‘home’, but not before stopping at a road-side choripan stand for a hot and fresh baked treat. Choripan, to describe it simply, is fresh bread stuffed with chorizo which is then baked in a wood-fire oven. A simple and delicious snack for the ride back to the penthouse. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJbJacbObpnYJwBkmOM18d3plz2td7qdzYq03zvGBdca2S-Apb8ga7vm6ztwxiJ3RGJLMVICbCVZCZR7Zw_trRME-k9E7lHJsmSt6GzozippDop5Q3fEr-MgjWOFm0jTJHG-BHNp-aro/s1600/IMG_3558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJbJacbObpnYJwBkmOM18d3plz2td7qdzYq03zvGBdca2S-Apb8ga7vm6ztwxiJ3RGJLMVICbCVZCZR7Zw_trRME-k9E7lHJsmSt6GzozippDop5Q3fEr-MgjWOFm0jTJHG-BHNp-aro/s320/IMG_3558.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MMMM, SOOO GOOD!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> That night we cooked our own dinner in Pedro’s parents’ apartment and hung around our sweet penthouse (see how I keep using that word? It’s to make sure you know how awesome it was...). Ah yes, our penthouse with it’s rooftop view, good friends, comfy furniture and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">really chic mood lighting. There we ate our dinner and drank our drinks for a bit while playing some card games. The chicas and Pedro had decided to go out, but seeing as it was very late, I decided it was in the best interest of the group for me to hang back (well that and I had my awesome Brazilian hammock to look forward to).</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next day we started our afternoon with another pastry stop in the bottom floor bakery before taking on Lisbon itself. We hopped in our Fiesta and headed towards town, riding around a few roundabouts before finally deciding on a place to park. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGLHV_ivDcoGkEITGIp04p6X3hgPypErrvOTt_vsw0I_chSm19HHffuUuzZgdw4Dtc7yFdRb-Aw041KjVPvD0nIfftxx5GcGt4_7HwihNtaDZvirOm7KrafvtqO7pliw-R5XR8J2mHj0/s1600/IMG_3132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGLHV_ivDcoGkEITGIp04p6X3hgPypErrvOTt_vsw0I_chSm19HHffuUuzZgdw4Dtc7yFdRb-Aw041KjVPvD0nIfftxx5GcGt4_7HwihNtaDZvirOm7KrafvtqO7pliw-R5XR8J2mHj0/s320/IMG_3132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fixer upper you might say</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0K1MDWVd8hRLy1gEQYqpTMB9XFvCyOmNS0yLZfI5LIHh9fpB6ivwxSCEV_IOZTZltqLR_j77ib-ZbjywYNamzy4nvDRUIefhBoxOvmQV7BZbR4q1Af5Anc0nM5XBzI6mmcp-FamQWpk/s1600/IMG_3576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0K1MDWVd8hRLy1gEQYqpTMB9XFvCyOmNS0yLZfI5LIHh9fpB6ivwxSCEV_IOZTZltqLR_j77ib-ZbjywYNamzy4nvDRUIefhBoxOvmQV7BZbR4q1Af5Anc0nM5XBzI6mmcp-FamQWpk/s320/IMG_3576.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking downtown isn't complete without some pigeon chasing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ephG3URjxGnruw7-WVzlxJsvvDPROqhFlaPNqSTFRrfBbt3YG0k-ygmNY0-cJDhHpvJE14jcQ7AInNo4OW9R48m7Fu4EtB64mLR-V8Km8LJF3cpB1PUkwTKN0bOOv9hs4TTCUelTZOo/s1600/IMG_3582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ephG3URjxGnruw7-WVzlxJsvvDPROqhFlaPNqSTFRrfBbt3YG0k-ygmNY0-cJDhHpvJE14jcQ7AInNo4OW9R48m7Fu4EtB64mLR-V8Km8LJF3cpB1PUkwTKN0bOOv9hs4TTCUelTZOo/s320/IMG_3582.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many politically charged pieces of street art.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUf79PWNTkOYKCNAHwxtQsSTY2X1wPT2XbJBlPGIUhsJnI6KQC5posZZsZGNaHNq-zGLBBjhKRaQg6DydAHXq62NeIixFFPe0nJyTh8CyOuOtmg_QD0FSPk5CJnMHev1ZpD6Y2mOBBtoI/s1600/IMG_3607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUf79PWNTkOYKCNAHwxtQsSTY2X1wPT2XbJBlPGIUhsJnI6KQC5posZZsZGNaHNq-zGLBBjhKRaQg6DydAHXq62NeIixFFPe0nJyTh8CyOuOtmg_QD0FSPk5CJnMHev1ZpD6Y2mOBBtoI/s320/IMG_3607.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The urban decay is quite prevalent throughout Lisbon,<br />their economy is one of the worst in the EU, second only to Greece.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1uucE7s4NTOKbiPZF0SwCIBO_FyXQqcS4R230h-HzaSl7DalDObHiunSgFT_ZbIvL6iEu7RugdwAi0yu7HlnJp2Bz680RfBJZNvNm-nYtM_Vu96g5d6i8EVK8CfE7bXF_MehRoGm0y0/s1600/IMG_3644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1uucE7s4NTOKbiPZF0SwCIBO_FyXQqcS4R230h-HzaSl7DalDObHiunSgFT_ZbIvL6iEu7RugdwAi0yu7HlnJp2Bz680RfBJZNvNm-nYtM_Vu96g5d6i8EVK8CfE7bXF_MehRoGm0y0/s320/IMG_3644.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Ginjha, a liqueur made from ginja berries.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> We walked around Lisbon for a few hours, we didn’t have an itinerary which means every corner was a surprise. I really enjoyed walking around Lisbon, once you get to the center it’s pretty easy to find the popular attractions. We managed to get a taste of the local liqueur A Ginjinha, made from sour cherries, while sitting by a fountain in front of the National Theatre D. Maria II. There we managed to see a really funny commercial being filmed in the middle of the plaza, they had a guy trying to give his lines to a camera while being suspended in the air, they ran into trouble as they lowered him because he would keep spinning around so they’d re-shoot it. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WMnJ8QQBQO_Y8mjOQwzkImLVQUOD4U0y-HJjsZqBWWJVNmmYJ3HbT73G2U4tC-iLyaC_o6ytIVKcAS9rWB8VvA8MxOO6IYaNtSBrWunmnKsPbGDINddKf86Feed7huaQ5j9o3Sq9Au4/s1600/IMG_3650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WMnJ8QQBQO_Y8mjOQwzkImLVQUOD4U0y-HJjsZqBWWJVNmmYJ3HbT73G2U4tC-iLyaC_o6ytIVKcAS9rWB8VvA8MxOO6IYaNtSBrWunmnKsPbGDINddKf86Feed7huaQ5j9o3Sq9Au4/s320/IMG_3650.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor guy...<br />(check out the elevator in the right corner)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> From there off we went to check out the Santa Justa Elevator, walk through the Triumphal arch that opened up to the Praça do Comercio, which then led to the seaside view of the orange suspension bridge called the 25th of April Bridge where we sat a minute to enjoy the sunset.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> To finish off our stroll around Lisbon we decided to seek out some piri-piri chicken, as per Erin’s suggestion. Oh what a great suggestion it was. Piri-piri chicken is barbecued chicken that is covered with a delightfully spicy sauce made from chili pepper, it isn’t too hot, but just enough. It’s a delicious and typical Portuguese fare. After dinner we headed back to the apartment for a relatively quiet night of cards and hanging out. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next morning we had our final pastry in our ‘regular spot’, by the last day the waitress had an idea of who we were and was really great about being patient with explaining the different types of pastries in Portuguese, something that I swear sounds more like russian than spanish. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rose writing some post cards after breakfast.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Before packing up the car and heading out we had to make our mark on the lovely penthouse. Pedro has been a couch surfer and host for quite some time and so he’s started the tradition of having each surfer make their mark on his wall with paint and sharpie. We made sure to not go without making our own unique mark over his door, a handprint arch that was made extra awesome by Joni, the artist of our group.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm acting as if I was falling off the roof...appropriate face I think</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> After we gathered everything and cleaned up, it was time to say goodbye to our new friend Pedro. Pedro, if you’re reading this, we’d like to say thank you so very much for being such an open and giving person. You really showed us a great time and I hope to one day return that favor if you ever make it to good ole NC. Obrigada!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiesta on the ferry!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNNBhIZaE2NY8ISvs3McNsHTAc8I01_amGXKbFpiSycSF93lE5Eifp1QxN9BgmLk8n3wi-sFG42SbAjG3j6tS31gVuRdhcpVS3AO2yXImM3jCUgGU0O5U8Vd4OftnBjzWMaoNSa_FqwDc/s1600/IMG_3968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNNBhIZaE2NY8ISvs3McNsHTAc8I01_amGXKbFpiSycSF93lE5Eifp1QxN9BgmLk8n3wi-sFG42SbAjG3j6tS31gVuRdhcpVS3AO2yXImM3jCUgGU0O5U8Vd4OftnBjzWMaoNSa_FqwDc/s320/IMG_3968.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Off we went back to Sevilla, but not before taking the long way along the coast for some quick beach hopping. Pedro also gives great directions to the best beaches in south Portugal. Although we didn’t have the best weather, we still made the most of the time we had on the beach and soaked up some sun, tried our hand at casting messages in a bottle into the ocean (unfruitful attempts, but fun nonetheless), and Joni and Rose even went for a (very quick) swim. We hopped back in the car and made our way back home at a leisurely pace. We got into Sevilla around midnight and dropped the car off at the airport. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Sam and I walked back together from the bus stop to our neighborhood of Los Remedios. We stopped in the OpenCor for a sandwich and chips and sat on the Puente de San Telmo to eat. The sandwich wasn’t anything special, it was the company and singing to Moulin Rouge that made it the perfect ending to a great trip.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These crazy kids got in the chilly water...I stuck my feet in</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Portugal was so much fun, it’s sad to think that it’s the last trip we’ll all be taking together since these are our final weeks here in Sevilla. Our time together has been short but really sweet, I’m really glad that Joni, Erin, and Rose live so close and I don’t doubt that there will be some more road-tripping when we all get back on US soil to see Sam and Sabrina. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Obrigada to Pedro and obrigada to my chicas for an amazing weekend!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quick pit stop on the side of the road to check out <br />the pretty sunset and spanish countryside</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joni Ray you are beautiful!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hooray for Rose!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our handprint arch over Pedro's door </td></tr>
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-30071704010115710922012-05-03T09:15:00.003-04:002012-05-03T09:15:56.422-04:00Video to go along with Semana Santa postFinally had some luck with the internet and have been able to upload the video that goes with the previous post on Semana Santa!<br />
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-48488775935888294652012-04-24T07:18:00.000-04:002012-04-24T07:18:09.984-04:00Semana Santa en Sevilla<i>My internet isn't cooperating with upload, so check back for the video that goes along with this post that features the saeta and more! </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> A few weeks ago was the first of two major spring festivals that Sevilla is famous for, one that draws people from all over the world and fills the streets with all types of tourists. The basic description of Semana Santa is that it’s the catholic holy week, I recommend skimming this wiki article for more background information: <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Week_in_Seville">Semana Santa en Sevilla</a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> This was our first of two spring breaks, the next one being the most famous of Sevilla’s festivals: Feria de Abril (ALSO MY PARENTS AND MEBANE ARE COMING SOON!). I spent the majority of the first part of the week doing what <i>could</i> be described simply as doing nothing, but in reality nothing always finds a way of being something. I managed to finish all of my homework, booked all of the necessary flights for my European excursion, ate dinner on the rooftop of Joni’s apartment with Sam and Joni, and I met up with Ramón (the banjo player from a few posts back) in Parque de los Principes to play a little bit and to trade lessons on Sunday.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What a wonderful experience that was, to have a bluegrass banjo lesson taught by a spanish musician while sitting outside under the sweet smelling orange blossoms called <i>azahares</i>. Afterwards we sat and had some beers and talked about music, which is where I saw my first group of people in Trajes de Nazarenos, since Sunday was the first day of Semana Santa.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A night processions of just nazarenos coming out of el Catedral</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeARqjauBiHDIKrEqL-v5FXEFiFuP2d44w7N1_oFN_TI8bLdkZH5YWVmaygjAHYFWW0hdz5fIsxQDATZra5V0ig_lwMw1pLrOdQLm8YFgPB-BIZ1W8Qcqo3T0vTDlTMVfkrhumcbyu2rg/s1600/IMG_2791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On top of all that good stuff my host mother had been cooking up a storm of delicious treats. Just to name a few: fresh torrijas with honey, gazpacho, bacalao paella, and arroz con leche, and one morning we had a custard roll kind of thing. The food was amazing! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empty seats after leaving the night procession</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ll skim over all of that to get to the nitty gritty of what this week is all about, which is the religious processions called <i>pasos. </i>The following description of my paso experience is not a normal one, not even the spanish get the opportunity to do what I did and I am so amazed, grateful, and humbled that I had such a wonderful experience. Most people experience observing pasos while packed in a crowd of hundreds and thousands of people, you get pushed around, snap a few photos, and it’s all a whirlwind. I, on the other hand, got to experience my first paso in a much more enjoyable way: from the view of a private balcony. But woah now, I’m getting ahead of myself, allow me to backtrack a little. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Here are a few key terms to keep in mind: </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQamC28QAPZMfxgjzAZ0dq4sK0yxVXeiyHfJM-Q44l-otEPDQBXw4CKdMwaTWIz0qu8kIt9kO3IZ4A1Wp_xJaTvlP5DjfMDsLvUHkevLNNlEzZv1S2KWq-X490zj0qZcaaNgDSNBjM1Q/s1600/IMG_2994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQamC28QAPZMfxgjzAZ0dq4sK0yxVXeiyHfJM-Q44l-otEPDQBXw4CKdMwaTWIz0qu8kIt9kO3IZ4A1Wp_xJaTvlP5DjfMDsLvUHkevLNNlEzZv1S2KWq-X490zj0qZcaaNgDSNBjM1Q/s320/IMG_2994.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Processions: </b>These are what the masses are trying to see. Some are silent but many are accompanied by a brass band and drums which lead the beginning of the procession. Then you have a large group of nazarenos and penitants (who carry the crosses), and a group of alcolytes precede the pasos with chandeleirs and incense. Then come the pasos, the crown jewels of the whole procession, followed by another band or choir, then more nazarenos. Each brotherhood puts on it’s own procession.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZNY7yXjJUrK7C7kAG9w408FOEwnjeJpBeJWLVwD_NWSWhzAzSSQ4jjoh2IU8R-jsqF-6zJNhXNXVG_W0mGMvKem5deOY0sNCAcBJWIfGqNyQC-TK1fNFFvFkkgekQnpHYD7uct3NfbA/s1600/IMG_2866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZNY7yXjJUrK7C7kAG9w408FOEwnjeJpBeJWLVwD_NWSWhzAzSSQ4jjoh2IU8R-jsqF-6zJNhXNXVG_W0mGMvKem5deOY0sNCAcBJWIfGqNyQC-TK1fNFFvFkkgekQnpHYD7uct3NfbA/s320/IMG_2866.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Pasos</b>: they are the intricately detailed images of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary that are carried by dozens of people called <i>costaleros </i>during each procession. They weigh up to 2 metric tons and are covered in fresh flowers, candles, gilded, and are worth quite a bit of money (which is why they don’t go out in the rain). Some even date back to the 16th century. Each brotherhood has it’s own specific images depicting different scenes and/or different Christ’s and Virgin Mary’s. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBCssjyhyphenhyphenZBmpLtf-dC7wf7CgMVyytm4edTMl-rW29aRcToasEwKcrM2adUXUKYqDi7oV5Yk82CRPrON7-BI8C150r0hOcaE9nRfiSM7RX1yR-FqCM6xVcKVd_FRGPMLWCeUc6jMmz-4/s1600/IMG_2961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBCssjyhyphenhyphenZBmpLtf-dC7wf7CgMVyytm4edTMl-rW29aRcToasEwKcrM2adUXUKYqDi7oV5Yk82CRPrON7-BI8C150r0hOcaE9nRfiSM7RX1yR-FqCM6xVcKVd_FRGPMLWCeUc6jMmz-4/s320/IMG_2961.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Nazarenos: </b>these are the people in the long robes with the pointed hoods called <i>capirotes, </i>they occasionally walk barefoot, carry candles or crosses. They were traditionally only men, but in recent years all ages of men and women have been participating. These outfits date back to the Middle Ages, they are worn so that the wearer may pay anonymous penitence for their sins. Each nazarenos’ outfit is specific to the brotherhood that is putting on the paso, each with it’s own coloring and insignia.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6dJ_V08ZesCEpyRYEeglR9vZKyOv0vpQ9b9adpR4ONdQLfYWXvBgVL3QCBZX1fe6oKIRsPfr9LvCgqzMe5y0VSw0IAWcVCLBJUAb8OLqTBnKbG0dLej1RulTxcOriFgoEPhrlRBCbdU/s1600/IMG_3037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6dJ_V08ZesCEpyRYEeglR9vZKyOv0vpQ9b9adpR4ONdQLfYWXvBgVL3QCBZX1fe6oKIRsPfr9LvCgqzMe5y0VSw0IAWcVCLBJUAb8OLqTBnKbG0dLej1RulTxcOriFgoEPhrlRBCbdU/s320/IMG_3037.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Saeta to the left of our balcony.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Saeta: </b>improvised flamenco-style song that is typically sung from a balcony as an offering of prayer to the pasos, they only appear in a few spots along certain pasos’ procession route, attendees usually have to plan out their route to able to see one. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxN58lrUL_oBBp5Tk75f7F-bsXnmN_w-ds3Y1Bmy-_rhdGFWw4Msgq5OrfD7QW_xi0OjC_dHfvRYzQppvh_uCukmFCmSPtuHO6k3CkhfcAztXM7NatOjQNCpMqtI80G5ir8uIvzR4KHE/s1600/IMG_2824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxN58lrUL_oBBp5Tk75f7F-bsXnmN_w-ds3Y1Bmy-_rhdGFWw4Msgq5OrfD7QW_xi0OjC_dHfvRYzQppvh_uCukmFCmSPtuHO6k3CkhfcAztXM7NatOjQNCpMqtI80G5ir8uIvzR4KHE/s320/IMG_2824.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting in the rain to see some of the pasos</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Since moving to Sevilla in January I had not seen a single day of rain up until this famed Semana Santa. Many of the processions were cancelled or cut short on account of the gloomy grey clouds and which brought sheets of rain. I was slightly worried that I would be leaving for Portugal without having the opportunity of seeing a full procession, and so Wednesday I woke up determined to find one. To start the day Rose, Joni, Erin and I met in Plaza Nueva to make a game plan. We managed to find some schedules of the locations and times of the processions for that day, and since they weren’t until later, we headed to a near-by church to check out some of the pasos that had already been paraded. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQJk26t55yVxv9nyLuLgo8NKYaAx0I1JWDtFLSiZfbYmhBR2ndp0Wo1GJkDiM3x8N9PzU1Cbmjm9kbeW_y13m6uV11fGVcMRiMET_PqxX-M1QAFkaOQZuFSaUjdgxdep768ZjNEaxAiI/s1600/IMG_2875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQJk26t55yVxv9nyLuLgo8NKYaAx0I1JWDtFLSiZfbYmhBR2ndp0Wo1GJkDiM3x8N9PzU1Cbmjm9kbeW_y13m6uV11fGVcMRiMET_PqxX-M1QAFkaOQZuFSaUjdgxdep768ZjNEaxAiI/s320/IMG_2875.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left paso: the Burrikita</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This church had the one of the pasos that leaves out the first day, the Burrikita, as well as 3 or 4 different Jesus and Virgin Mary scenes. I was surprised at how uncrowded it was, I was expecting to be pushing past some not so</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">happy elderly people, and over zealous backpackers. Surprisingly there weren’t all that many people and I actually was able to quietly walk around and take in all the intricacy of the images and the cathedral. Afterwards, we went off to find some torrijas and coffee at the bakery across form the cathedral, and then we walked in for the last 15 minutes of open time before the cathedral closed, there wasn’t as much to see in the section that we went into, but to say that I got to be in the cathedral during Semana Santa is kind of cool. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwmOAFmPchqUge-5hwVQ-zJpAZReDvkTg-I07oXaYNeMCSVOrDPTh0Owzn3oR4zHUextowXNwH_3BQIA85Wxx2ESRRdYFsmPTPN2DLIOZIzgVKwncJm4pT-hClgCIKAY_HeXhpVkaeWc/s1600/IMG_2921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwmOAFmPchqUge-5hwVQ-zJpAZReDvkTg-I07oXaYNeMCSVOrDPTh0Owzn3oR4zHUextowXNwH_3BQIA85Wxx2ESRRdYFsmPTPN2DLIOZIzgVKwncJm4pT-hClgCIKAY_HeXhpVkaeWc/s320/IMG_2921.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being served torrijas!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Erin had been invited to what we assumed was an open gathering for international students, the kind where you just drop in to say hello and grab a snack before going to find a paso. Rose and Joni decided to part ways after the cathedral to get ready for our trip to Portugal the next day (more on that soon!). Erin and I met up with another friend of ours, and we started walking towards the general direction of the luncheon event. It had finally turned out to be a nice day, after a few days of dark clouds, and so it was great to see some sun and blue sky. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRucOIA7wyU1CdFo71ItNGFcXjV1Cd-X8o8q1OZ3dFV3utul6NYW77lHKgz_6EnQxuHp1eBPRMc36F2u4QYnqLHCOIgdBpinMQKzt-TJ0YcdfdvhhiMOgiRwlTDJtXsIucf7FiXpOa14/s1600/IMG_2942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRucOIA7wyU1CdFo71ItNGFcXjV1Cd-X8o8q1OZ3dFV3utul6NYW77lHKgz_6EnQxuHp1eBPRMc36F2u4QYnqLHCOIgdBpinMQKzt-TJ0YcdfdvhhiMOgiRwlTDJtXsIucf7FiXpOa14/s320/IMG_2942.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orange tree leaves frame el Catedral on our first sunny day of the week</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRucOIA7wyU1CdFo71ItNGFcXjV1Cd-X8o8q1OZ3dFV3utul6NYW77lHKgz_6EnQxuHp1eBPRMc36F2u4QYnqLHCOIgdBpinMQKzt-TJ0YcdfdvhhiMOgiRwlTDJtXsIucf7FiXpOa14/s1600/IMG_2942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18px;"></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRucOIA7wyU1CdFo71ItNGFcXjV1Cd-X8o8q1OZ3dFV3utul6NYW77lHKgz_6EnQxuHp1eBPRMc36F2u4QYnqLHCOIgdBpinMQKzt-TJ0YcdfdvhhiMOgiRwlTDJtXsIucf7FiXpOa14/s1600/IMG_2942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjOL1EEVDBGxSiWjW5MsZlgB7R8D4dhgIHtexLZeArY2WnCXc9Pbtjib5YXOClUquIndTRR0Rq2-zJKeZHWaKI5FrYRhmF43wliZVnOiI_lOJtzOyryutxf7FW7_VCcG1Nq29fOd4FUg/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjOL1EEVDBGxSiWjW5MsZlgB7R8D4dhgIHtexLZeArY2WnCXc9Pbtjib5YXOClUquIndTRR0Rq2-zJKeZHWaKI5FrYRhmF43wliZVnOiI_lOJtzOyryutxf7FW7_VCcG1Nq29fOd4FUg/s320/IMG_2980.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjOL1EEVDBGxSiWjW5MsZlgB7R8D4dhgIHtexLZeArY2WnCXc9Pbtjib5YXOClUquIndTRR0Rq2-zJKeZHWaKI5FrYRhmF43wliZVnOiI_lOJtzOyryutxf7FW7_VCcG1Nq29fOd4FUg/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As we were approaching our destination we heard the drums, the ones that precede each procession. We immediately decided to forget about finding the luncheon and instead concentrate on finding where the procession was. Not only did we stumble upon the beginning of the procession, but the drums also lead us to our original destination: the CIEE house. The house was right on the processions’ route and we were greeted at the door by the woman who had invited Erin (and through Erin we were </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">invited): Maria Teresa. Although they had originally met on tragic terms, this truly was a great way to find themselves together again. She invited us in, gave us a tour, offered refreshments, and showed us to the best seat in the house- a balcony overlooking the street. Turns out this wasn’t a student luncheon at all, just a private gathering that we had been really fortunate to be invited to. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77VreHr0AAzIaXEP0FV6c31z49GT0EGmCgvEa3yWgCYqo4BaMY_JkdMQEnPY6-IQc9vvwZT5tU5o7QuU6HpL_GjwDsqUgWjvysjF61PYce1WrW9H9edIRl96JRWnhyphenhyphenIOqonbOegqvtTM/s1600/IMG_2992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77VreHr0AAzIaXEP0FV6c31z49GT0EGmCgvEa3yWgCYqo4BaMY_JkdMQEnPY6-IQc9vvwZT5tU5o7QuU6HpL_GjwDsqUgWjvysjF61PYce1WrW9H9edIRl96JRWnhyphenhyphenIOqonbOegqvtTM/s320/IMG_2992.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq08jS0krbOQkLJyWmPH7yVWRVF4P0ebXDjD_qcv88FNEpdd2mED4iddIIkZHXY7BtaDIhq7fh9lEoZrIz-pp4Y58Ml_iu7522RkJ2ULhxxd7oBdo5P5m4gfuMo1gCRdSS_6pyj6XDdQA/s1600/IMG_2972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq08jS0krbOQkLJyWmPH7yVWRVF4P0ebXDjD_qcv88FNEpdd2mED4iddIIkZHXY7BtaDIhq7fh9lEoZrIz-pp4Y58Ml_iu7522RkJ2ULhxxd7oBdo5P5m4gfuMo1gCRdSS_6pyj6XDdQA/s320/IMG_2972.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not only were we going to be able to experience a procession from the comfort of a balcony, while enjoying delicious snacks and wine, we were also INCREDIBLY lucky to be able to have a front row seat to the man who would be singing saetas because he was </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">going to sing from the balcony next to ours. She even introduced us all to this very smiley and warm flamenco singer who sang with such passion and grace. We had a few hours to wait until the pasos reached us, the procession that we saw was a combination of the brotherhoods of San Bernado and El Buen Fin which means there were well over 2,450 penitants and nazarenos escorting the pasos. We sat back and enjoyed the view, did some socializing, some eating, and some drinking.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2iNHVcDJL9vGLi5FJ2bb2OlQdmO3stfGUIB4kvX5_fxDlhslrvTDNVjFgxmb-NtGiKd8vmke6C5G9qod8CM4w4Xkzk7M3_uIGveu_3FiBoCe8ZRsuDMHJGgu4i_GF8n-cz6_8TKgXvE/s1600/IMG_3010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2iNHVcDJL9vGLi5FJ2bb2OlQdmO3stfGUIB4kvX5_fxDlhslrvTDNVjFgxmb-NtGiKd8vmke6C5G9qod8CM4w4Xkzk7M3_uIGveu_3FiBoCe8ZRsuDMHJGgu4i_GF8n-cz6_8TKgXvE/s320/IMG_3010.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Before too long we heard the drums that accompany the first paso: the image of Christ on the cross atop a gilded base with blood red carnations at his feet. The emotions of the crowd are quite evident through this all, they go from a murmuring excitement as the drums approach, the closer it gets the more silence begins to sweep through, the shushes begin right as you’re over taken by the booming of the brass instruments and drums. The acolytes are right before the image, they swing their incense which creates a mysterious smoke from which emerges the image. The horns come to their climax and then finish their song, and the paso stops at the base of the balcony. The crowd is left with a looming silence as they wait for the saeta to begin his prayer, his dramatic song fills the air: (excuse my inability to focus my camera, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my camera)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iUI3A6tMJu8uRIebuh2gs7Z6RvYn1pIrpL8-Eob026WHgCndm9PPhYiWxiq3bKkusmnLWKpbk9DDcalYvOvZD07kl0HOzwf8y58RzXII17zBm9nKYdfpZtP6cadOghnis0fA20_GPaE/s1600/IMG_3030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iUI3A6tMJu8uRIebuh2gs7Z6RvYn1pIrpL8-Eob026WHgCndm9PPhYiWxiq3bKkusmnLWKpbk9DDcalYvOvZD07kl0HOzwf8y58RzXII17zBm9nKYdfpZtP6cadOghnis0fA20_GPaE/s320/IMG_3030.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I had goosebumps. I have them now as I write this, as I remember that truely <i>awesome </i>moment. Minutes pass, but it feels longer than that, in that moment you are transformed into sacred time where you aren’t aware of time or place, but instead are captivated by music, by voice, by silence, by the human emotions around you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Before you’re ready, the song is over. Two loud clicks of a staff and the paso is lifted and bounced, moved by the unseeable <i>costaleros</i> beneath the paso that give you the impression that it moves on it’s own. With two clicks, the crowd cheers and the trumpets blare. You are brought out of that sacred time quickly, abruptly. So much so that snapping yourself back into reality is like waking up from a dream. You question what that was, if that was reality, and ultimately I was struck with the overwhelming feeling of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">humility. Because at that moment it hit me: this is not normal. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHg5wuDAHrjzFQiqVrN7EtyT6E7YNuTmXRW91mgevywVT-r1nNd6Ro0yDDyFoo8nvRVQyGcr41jzMAsPFeYBeIniMT7NIra6vsd_77BgtrPTk4t4mbDnNeM6g73Iq6vmMK9rc7RN7EW4/s1600/IMG_3025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> To stand on a balcony, surrounded by friends, enjoying the hospitality of a stranger who invites you to their food and drink. To stand 6 feet away from a saeta singer, to watch from above and see what most people only are allowed to see from below. To be in a moment and to recognize how pivotal it is, to live in a moment and recognize that it will be a something you’ll remember forever, and how only you and the people with you in that moment will be the only one’s to ever actually understand how amazing it was is indescribable. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee; font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHg5wuDAHrjzFQiqVrN7EtyT6E7YNuTmXRW91mgevywVT-r1nNd6Ro0yDDyFoo8nvRVQyGcr41jzMAsPFeYBeIniMT7NIra6vsd_77BgtrPTk4t4mbDnNeM6g73Iq6vmMK9rc7RN7EW4/s1600/IMG_3025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHg5wuDAHrjzFQiqVrN7EtyT6E7YNuTmXRW91mgevywVT-r1nNd6Ro0yDDyFoo8nvRVQyGcr41jzMAsPFeYBeIniMT7NIra6vsd_77BgtrPTk4t4mbDnNeM6g73Iq6vmMK9rc7RN7EW4/s320/IMG_3025.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHg5wuDAHrjzFQiqVrN7EtyT6E7YNuTmXRW91mgevywVT-r1nNd6Ro0yDDyFoo8nvRVQyGcr41jzMAsPFeYBeIniMT7NIra6vsd_77BgtrPTk4t4mbDnNeM6g73Iq6vmMK9rc7RN7EW4/s1600/IMG_3025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> We were able to enjoy ourselves as the rest of the procession continued, and again the saeta sang a second song to the paso bearing the image of the Virgin Mary. I decided to watch the Virgin pass from below, from the perspective of the masses, which turned out for the best because this paso had a canopy. I watched as she passed and again, like the first paso, stopped just below our balcony. From that perspective I watched fathers point out to their children, men in suits walk up and place bouquets of gorgeous flowers at her feet, as women placed delicate roses between the intricate details of the candelabras. And again, after the horns stopped, he sang his saeta.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1OfOVxDco9tLHShq0uvuRHB2xqd0AhttoBABjAoRI1XjRo1BDlf9pFRgrYB_4gBzmxfGWcgdXFR8O4l613czU86dbP71rc1M_DRfCUUF_DhmeKc6Oue827AMc5VA3obV1VASjYixzec/s1600/IMG_3049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1OfOVxDco9tLHShq0uvuRHB2xqd0AhttoBABjAoRI1XjRo1BDlf9pFRgrYB_4gBzmxfGWcgdXFR8O4l613czU86dbP71rc1M_DRfCUUF_DhmeKc6Oue827AMc5VA3obV1VASjYixzec/s320/IMG_3049.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After this unbelievable event I headed back to my casa to do some more homework and pack before heading to Portugal, I was on cloud-nine the whole walk home and was surprised again by an unexpected Easter card and letter from Carolyn Jones. Inside the card read:</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">“<i>I’m sure you had an unforgettable Easter!”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i>Mrs. Jones you are <i>very </i>correct, unforgettable is the best way to describe it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">This post is only the beginning of my Easter week experience, I still have to tell you all about our road trip to Portugal. Check back soon, it was awesome!</span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-48542373726548649772012-04-19T14:18:00.002-04:002012-04-19T14:18:41.561-04:00La Esperanza de Triana<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A pre-Semana Santa procession to prepare the barrio for the week ahead! The next blog is coming very soon, here's a taste of the ceremonial and sacred week that is Semana Santa en Sevilla</i></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">La Esperanza de Triana</span></b></div>
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-22694686458927787172012-03-29T09:21:00.000-04:002012-03-29T12:26:09.111-04:00Day 60-62: Whirlwind Weekend Part 2: Bye bye hair, hello Brussels again!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Here’s Part 2 of my trip to see Gillie in France via traveling through Belgium: A big change. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9Uri0bpc9jXr6M836-EfCW_bU2mup0bEOOcKXQuhVRnflk5gguJOP9P7wTR8rJNSn0LyjcR-Ukt_2USqj_ho4l-oSeAU9HmPnsSzKX-ab2M3_65uIyPq-wRZIn8wI3b6h04c9BT65u4/s1600/IMG_2479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9Uri0bpc9jXr6M836-EfCW_bU2mup0bEOOcKXQuhVRnflk5gguJOP9P7wTR8rJNSn0LyjcR-Ukt_2USqj_ho4l-oSeAU9HmPnsSzKX-ab2M3_65uIyPq-wRZIn8wI3b6h04c9BT65u4/s320/IMG_2479.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlTBLaDQ0zQtxCl6q5-9pmGyutTHytj-sp0Ivkidi2ERBks2gRJNy0NJTyrsD9GIMITsAQY2qBxKn7Vk8g59HuCRUyjC7YAa3Z1LpiHwen7aeARl35nXcbINnGTjHYwNzWBKf_j_lK63g/s1600/IMG_2471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlTBLaDQ0zQtxCl6q5-9pmGyutTHytj-sp0Ivkidi2ERBks2gRJNy0NJTyrsD9GIMITsAQY2qBxKn7Vk8g59HuCRUyjC7YAa3Z1LpiHwen7aeARl35nXcbINnGTjHYwNzWBKf_j_lK63g/s320/IMG_2471.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I’ve been wanting to cut my hair for a while now. Having as much hair as I do makes upkeep while traveling a real task, and plus, with the promise of a really hot summer coming up, I knew something had to change. The real question became not <i>if</i> I was going to cut my hair, but <i>where</i>. The spanish don’t exactly have my hair type, and so I was concerned about getting anything done to my voluptuous mane in Spain, plus what’s the fun of actually being able to communicate with your hair stylist? I decided that my trip to Lille was the perfect time for this major haircut. So with the appointment set, Gillie as my translator, and a few pictures in hand, we headed to Hexagon Coiffure on Saturday morning. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSoG8bLrmJByY8JNaKPIOcw2fIcIl0bk230MrYUc51askEVSm_GqyLjmnLNvvFrfS841VzxhtUt24grRKykvWBUJfZ6_dimotsdJuenXpOIWMHCP0wXvZfz9QwWvQUg8t2D7tUxVFpeA/s1600/IMG_2488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSoG8bLrmJByY8JNaKPIOcw2fIcIl0bk230MrYUc51askEVSm_GqyLjmnLNvvFrfS841VzxhtUt24grRKykvWBUJfZ6_dimotsdJuenXpOIWMHCP0wXvZfz9QwWvQUg8t2D7tUxVFpeA/s320/IMG_2488.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I was nervous, which was noted by the hairstylist. Much of the nerves were coming from the fact that I couldn’t understand what was being said and that I didn’t have my glasses on. A great comfort during all of this was knowing that Gillie was there as my translator. Of all the people in the world to have by my side during something like this, Gillie would have been my first choice, hands down (which is why I did it); she helped keep me calm and documented the whole event. After over an hour of cutting, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">shaping, blowdrying, and trimming I put on my glasses to see the final product. In the end she cut over 12-inches off, and do I love it!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We celebrated afterwards with a fresh pastry from the bakery across the street and made a stop at an open-air market to grab some rhum gofres. We sat in Lille’s Grand Place enjoying our treats and marveling at what a wonderful job the hairstylist did with my hair!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> That night was St. Patty’s day so we went to her friend Olie’s for dinner and a party where green, of course, was a requirement for entrance. Quite a few people came and I ended up chatting in both english and spanish. I really enjoyed that crowd of people, Olie and her boyfriend were amazing hosts. Afterwards we went over to another party, this one was being thrown by some Irish & English students, some of whom were painted green and wearing irish flags. We met some interesting people, I even ran into a girl from Portland, and I met Gillie’s mentor Fahim. Parties with international students are always interesting events. It’s like taking a trip around the world, you hear all kinds of languages, you meet people from a variety of backgrounds who are from a whole slew of different countries. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next day we went to a crowded open air market to check out the sights, smells, sounds, and fares of that culturally rich area. After that, we attempted to go to a zoo but ended up finding an art museum instead where I got to see a Picasso piece, beautiful sculptures, and some gigantic paintings.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFjHoIPqU3kirDK57M4EfU8xLuXnq2cbwwv_ljYWiE4cQKloCELqI3UfWlMx0_MIkYY6tPLntoSp_SL-H5TnZA7vVEzj1LAU3lZnj0-zmgc8dyuzXxTFamQ2PkvPk4ieNjFTgjxah9AE/s1600/IMG_2453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFjHoIPqU3kirDK57M4EfU8xLuXnq2cbwwv_ljYWiE4cQKloCELqI3UfWlMx0_MIkYY6tPLntoSp_SL-H5TnZA7vVEzj1LAU3lZnj0-zmgc8dyuzXxTFamQ2PkvPk4ieNjFTgjxah9AE/s320/IMG_2453.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Here’s where I’ll be a little honest with my French experience, I wasn’t too impressed by some of the people we met in public. It may be that I’m just used to the general open and welcoming nature of the spanish, but overall I found the people a little standoffish. Understand this, we met some great people, but we also found our share of brusque French people that actually did fall into the category of the typical “rude French” person. The overall experience was a good one, but keep in mind that if you go to France that you may have a similar experience, so just be prepared! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> That night we stayed in and cooked one last delicious meal together, another fun activity that I have been missing since I don’t cook ever here in Spain. We watched another movie since we had to get up at 6:00 so that I could make it to my ride share back to Brussels. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to take off for my very long day of travel, goodbye Villeneuve d'Ascq!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next day was full of travel which it was exhausting and stressful, to say the least. I had to take a metro to catch my ride share that took me to Brussels. After some walking around the southern part of the city, I took a bus to the center. I had just enough time to duck into some chocolate shops, enjoy some freshly fried & delicious Belgian Frites, and snag some more photos of the Grand Place before I headed to Brussels Central. I bought my ticket for a train that would take me to another station in Charleroi, so that I could hop a bus to the airport. It was at this point, as I was waiting for the train, that I realized that I had underestimated how long it would take me to do all this. So, on top of juggling numerous modes of transport, I was now concerned that I may arrive just in time to watch my plane take off.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH8FgsfXjqZrX26p9JObQik_DAlXhXGrp7pBp5GEnf0kUQvYJtwP92ca2l6sxG3xKBktBGoDbyDcaTg738BTCVZ4i7rU3tW7BLKbh4XNIu95G3yDMB-q29cNEizra8OBWYgnj9f80TjpM/s1600/IMG_2641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH8FgsfXjqZrX26p9JObQik_DAlXhXGrp7pBp5GEnf0kUQvYJtwP92ca2l6sxG3xKBktBGoDbyDcaTg738BTCVZ4i7rU3tW7BLKbh4XNIu95G3yDMB-q29cNEizra8OBWYgnj9f80TjpM/s320/IMG_2641.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Luckily, because the bus/train combo was faster than what the man at the counter had told me, I arrived at the airport in time to get my visa stamped, go through security, and find my gate with plenty of time to spare. After 2.5 hours of flying (aka sleeping), I was finally back in Sevilla. The only thing between me and a hot meal at my casa was another bus ride to Prado and a twenty minute walk. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> It was during this walk that I realized how much at ease I’ve come to be here in Sevilla. I felt those same waves of comfort that I feel when I head back to Greensboro after being at away for a while. I walked up the stairs to the apartment. Gumersinda was there, Paco too, dinner was just about to be served and she greeted me with a big hug, dos besos, and a smile. I was only gone for six days, but it was enough time away for me to realize how much I truly enjoy living in this city. This isn’t my home, but I do feel <i>at</i> home here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> That walk was an interesting experience, one that allowed me to reflect on my feelings of comfort and to reflect on what that term home actually means. Being so far away helps you realize what you love the most about you’re real home. Distance makes you realize what you’re missing the most, and through those feelings you learn. I am changing here. Already I can tell I’m going to be a different person when I get back and that I’ve only been here for two months means I still have a lot more growing and learning to do. Something I am also painfully aware of is that I’m not the only one who’s changing, that while I’m in Spain, you all across the pond are having your own experiences. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> They say that coming home is the hardest part of your experience abroad, reverse culture shock and adapting to all those changes; realizing that your ideal of home is just that: an ideal. You have to learn to adapt to that, you have to re-learn what <i>home </i>has become. Home is a term that, like many of the terms used to inspire an idea of stagnancy and permanence, in all actuality is constantly changing and redefining itself. Tradition, history, and culture are living terms that all rely on real and complex human beings in order to allow those terms to exist. This means that the terms are actually being impacted by the people responsible for continuing them; people mixed with the factor of time mean that they’re changing too. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I guess that what I’m trying to say, to conclude a much too long blog post, is that I have found comfort here in Spain, I love it here, and am enjoying myself. Traveling abroad has already, in just two months, made me realize that there’s nothing like coming back to the familiar. There’s nothing like returning to the people you love and know. Nothing like walking the streets, that were once so unfamiliar and strange, and realizing that they seem much less foreign and even offer a bit of comfort. Like knowing that while you were gone, people kept living their life. They kept living their lives, but they were also glad to greet you again, and to welcome you back after a long journey away. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Home. Four letters, but loaded with meaning. </span></div>
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com1Lille, France50.62925 3.05725650.5889605 2.978292 50.6695395 3.1362200000000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-69758623664290960402012-03-29T09:16:00.001-04:002012-03-29T09:21:36.289-04:00Days 57-59: Whirlwind Weekend Part 1: Brussels and (Gi)Lill(i)e<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>I’m splitting this post up to make it more reader-friendly, this is Part 1: Brussels and (Gi)Lill(i)e</i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After a long week of playing catch-up with school work and other odds and ends that piled up from being out of town for 6 days, I’m finally getting the chance to sit down to tell you about my first trip out of Spain! Not only was I getting to visit two new countries, but my main reason for going was to FINALLY see one of my best friends, and my room mate from last semester, Gillie! We saw each other nearly everyday for a semester, and to go from that to not seeing each other for almost 4 months was odd. This trip marked some important firsts as far as my traveling experiences go: first RyanAir flight, getting from point A to B in a country where I can’t speak the language, using a French ride share system, and my first CouchSurfing experience. Of course there were many more firsts, but these were the major ones that had me feeling a little stressed before going. Oh yes, I guess there is another major event to tell you about: getting over a foot of my hair cut-off!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Gillie is studying abroad at a university in Villneuve d’Ascq, a small town just outside of Lille, Fr</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">ance. The cheapest way to get from Sevilla to that part of France was to book a RyanAir flight that goes to Charleroi Airport in Belgium. Since my flight was getting in so late (21:30), getting to Lille from Charleroi wasn’t an option on the day of my arrival (Wednesday), so I looked into finding a place to stay the night through the website <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.couchsurfing.org</span></a>. (If you’ve never heard of this project you should read up on it, it’s a fascinating idea that connects people all over the world who don’t mind hosting travelers <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/about.html"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">http://www.couchsurfing.org/about.html</span></a>) I lucked out in finding a really great person who lives in Brussels, Julie, who was willing to host me for that night. The next task would be getting from Charleroi to the Brussels Central station before the last bus of the night.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So how was my first RyanAir experience? Well I was terrified of getting charged with erroneous fees that these budget airlines are so well know for, so I read up on the do’s and don’t’s of using these companies. Technically my travel backpack isn’t within their strict baggage requirements, but I decided to risk it anyway. I would rather know now, before I go off on my month long excursion around Europe, what exactly I’m going to be charged for. My baggage worries were quelled when I met two Spanish travelers waiting for the same flight to Charleroi, Maria and Rafa. They both were sporting backpacks like mine, except that they had even more things stuffed in them, so I asked them about their experiences on RyanAir and the luggage they were carrying. Rafa, who’s done extensive travel using budget airlines, assured me that they never (or rarely) check backpacks and that he’s never had any trouble while carrying one. Sure enough he was right, the lady at the counter didn’t even measure our packs and we three got on to the flight with no problem.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I spent much of the flight chatting with my new friends who were also going to be going to Brussels Central that evening, they invited me to tag along so that we could find our way together. When we arrived in Belgium we caught the bus to Brussels Midi from the airport, and walked our way to Brussels Central (which turned out to be a bit longer than anticipated, I’ll use the tram next time!). We managed to unintentionally find our way to the famous Brussels Grand Place (conveniently located next to Brussels Central), which was almost deserted at that time of night. If you find yourself in Brussels I’d recommend that you go here at night, seeing all of the centuries-old Gothic and Flemish architecture lit-up without having to deal with the crowds is quite nice. It was a brief moment of peace and quiet after a long day of travel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I managed, again by some stroke of luck, to catch the last bus of the night that took me to Julie’s neighborhood. I arrived much later than I anticipated, it was 00:30 when I finally rang the doorbell at her apartment, but Julie was still waiting up for me and welcomed me at the door. We sat in her living room and got to know each other, she’s a teacher at a primary school who hails from the south of Beligum, she’s been involved with the CouchSurfing project for a little over a year and was an absolutely wonderful host. She offered me a yummy Belgian abbey beer (meaning was brewed by monks), called Grimbergen, let me try some Belgian Easter chocolate, and had my bed ready for me. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0pDJuOBuCowiQuQORoim44SGDWEG1C4dUap6evm9KynO_sp_Yz1zDSXx1sBQZEWEhnAvqQzYOS5MpXgc8Obg10BUfr-YAr6UcVrqu3m1WVtGgMbVJONFMwy3-VGLJqWv57OIbS2B79A/s1600/IMG_2335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0pDJuOBuCowiQuQORoim44SGDWEG1C4dUap6evm9KynO_sp_Yz1zDSXx1sBQZEWEhnAvqQzYOS5MpXgc8Obg10BUfr-YAr6UcVrqu3m1WVtGgMbVJONFMwy3-VGLJqWv57OIbS2B79A/s320/IMG_2335.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the morning light on the buildings from one side of the apartment.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The next morning I was up at 7:00 since Julie had to leave early to teach. I watched the sunrise from her top floor apartment as I ate a bowl of Golden Grahams. Since my ride-share didn’t leave til 11:30, I had the morning to walk around the Center and see some sights:</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter chocolate.....yes that's chocolate. Despite it's cuteness, I wouldn't be able to restrain myself from devouring those cute little chocolate duckies.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hôtel de Ville (Town Hall) tower in Grand Place</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maison du Roi (House of the King) also in Grand Place</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think it looks like he's shooting that poor bird...</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">My stop in Brussels was short, but a good one. The people were friendly, there was lots to see, and plenty of food and drink to try. I hope to come back some day to tour this little country a bit more. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Since this part of the world (aka Northern France/Beligium) is fairly expensive, I did some research on alternative (and safe) ways of transportation. Gillie recommended I give the French ride share website <a href="http://www.covoiturage.fr/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.covoiturage.fr</span></a> a try. I don’t speak French, the most I can say is “Hello, my name is Josie, I don’t speak French, goodbye”, but I managed to find a ride to and from Brussels & Lille for 7 euro each way. The drivers and passengers all spoke varying degrees of english, so it was interesting finding ways to communicate. On the way to Lille I spoke mostly in spanish with a French student named Nolween, who offered to show me the way to where Gillie would be meeting me. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvCXzG72f3FbO3pFkpaP8LfOm4zD6ulP7iAkhuY0af5U08ljGMkLc73ujizFLRU22BwS_KK-TMKtQ-HnNEvpVbb-UnoM90gtn0TyBT1DpeQFDtNdgBFjx-fJgvNIYhgPGyaBbHJWjgBc/s1600/IMG_2373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvCXzG72f3FbO3pFkpaP8LfOm4zD6ulP7iAkhuY0af5U08ljGMkLc73ujizFLRU22BwS_KK-TMKtQ-HnNEvpVbb-UnoM90gtn0TyBT1DpeQFDtNdgBFjx-fJgvNIYhgPGyaBbHJWjgBc/s320/IMG_2373.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I arrived in Lille and, with Nolween as my guide, walked toward the meeting point. Before I had even made it across the street I heard my name being called and looked up to see Gillie’s smiling face running through the crowd towards me. From that point on I couldn’t stop smiling. The semester before this one Gillie and I had talked about being able to see each other in Europe, and here we were actually doing it; we had found each other in the north of France, on a abnormally sunny day, after four months of being apart. We have been trying to keep in touch, despite our shoddy internet connections, but we still had a lot of catching up to do, so we headed to a restaurant with outdoor seating to enjoy some fresh French cuisine and to enjoy the sunny day together. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArgy2XhPT3aoHKauKw1UYeyJ9UFx_1gdQJq61DTV5XBs3hSXdvmPrHqZuIKYcxxasxUOkbvrNbX8-OQtfIorE8dY0civmMUFE0RL3kLGviET5o5rmpzU3_FNhGO1rSoRInb3Sjiupyog/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArgy2XhPT3aoHKauKw1UYeyJ9UFx_1gdQJq61DTV5XBs3hSXdvmPrHqZuIKYcxxasxUOkbvrNbX8-OQtfIorE8dY0civmMUFE0RL3kLGviET5o5rmpzU3_FNhGO1rSoRInb3Sjiupyog/s320/IMG_2377.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Gillie in case you have forgotten....that is mango)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-x2V0NF5IatQeAHbUew38Hijh7c7hQkWiSZB8YHsZlGA-CR-SJ8x-lH8-lsr3GauIbV9aE6kcXFU1bXlZWW3Nf2ijFjnwi-ocGRIi-AcA3xhvg_GARfKioWSdPpF0Zd__n8CTqOwxZUA/s1600/IMG_2376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-x2V0NF5IatQeAHbUew38Hijh7c7hQkWiSZB8YHsZlGA-CR-SJ8x-lH8-lsr3GauIbV9aE6kcXFU1bXlZWW3Nf2ijFjnwi-ocGRIi-AcA3xhvg_GARfKioWSdPpF0Zd__n8CTqOwxZUA/s320/IMG_2376.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my dish, yes that's goat cheese</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGn9ZQFTumZ5XmkMCvCH2YvmWepZWhW8NngUIgBH_SAfZNSc-U4FQJM9kbT1JVxY3QzvOqaOL2rrMh6WiRt2UtLEOBMYRadOJwMctK-Az7m6HTxAb4C3zRFxvYJlSGzj4yqf5vPl7RsbQ/s1600/IMG_2386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGn9ZQFTumZ5XmkMCvCH2YvmWepZWhW8NngUIgBH_SAfZNSc-U4FQJM9kbT1JVxY3QzvOqaOL2rrMh6WiRt2UtLEOBMYRadOJwMctK-Az7m6HTxAb4C3zRFxvYJlSGzj4yqf5vPl7RsbQ/s320/IMG_2386.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After lunch we made our way via metro to Villeneuve d’Ascq where Gillie lives, works, and goes to school. We went to the international café where she works and we made plans with some of her new friends to get bubble tea with them later that day. I enjoyed a delicious espresso prepared by my own personal barista, Gillie, and took a moment to read a bit while she worked. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTkY2XPrgVs3fjjS_Ma2YPJrKMk8RbH0W_ccU4iTR-SMrBlgTYmNXtp-jKq5cnmKzDQlgH5KOv7sg0bQx426clAdmqxwR7UJ9DYNBdpHJCDO9-HPn3ny960ztk_mnZM4W1gD0IS5dleE/s1600/IMG_2391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTkY2XPrgVs3fjjS_Ma2YPJrKMk8RbH0W_ccU4iTR-SMrBlgTYmNXtp-jKq5cnmKzDQlgH5KOv7sg0bQx426clAdmqxwR7UJ9DYNBdpHJCDO9-HPn3ny960ztk_mnZM4W1gD0IS5dleE/s320/IMG_2391.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rose bubble tea, refreshing & delicious, and the perfect excuse for an adorable photo opportunity</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We made our way back into Lille to get bubble tea, go grocery shopping, run some errands, and see the sights. I had been traveling for what seemed 24 hours straight so that night we stayed in and had a lovely quiet evening. We cooked dinner, drank Chi ‘ti beer (typical of the area), watched a movie, and enjoyed being room mates again. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The next morning we slept in and had a breakfast of (two) pain au chocolat (commonly (and incorrectly) referred to as chocolate croissants) and blood-orange juice; two of my favorite buys from our shopping trip the day before. We eventually got motivated enough to get dressed and head back into Lille to run some errands, the main one being to arrange a hair appointment for me.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">While in the center I bought a brown sugar crepe from a street vendor. The guy who made it for me made it look too easy as he spread the delicate mix on the hot plate, skillfully flipped it, topped it with brown sugar, rolled it up, and handed it to me on a paper plate. The sugar proceeded to caramelize from the heat of the crepe. Yes, it was delicious, almost too sweet, but realllly good. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRlJ0e9EhlSh8d0UtKbeW5sX_vl5dWghVTNXdrg1qkVoPw2MlzvFQQJezOrqogvBerGTLaKDWOUnGp-_VujgDZgfqSxqbqjlA4xI9a_aZTYbTAf6fh5egZxzJzsDVN2b20p7pEiqYRRI/s1600/IMG_2395.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRlJ0e9EhlSh8d0UtKbeW5sX_vl5dWghVTNXdrg1qkVoPw2MlzvFQQJezOrqogvBerGTLaKDWOUnGp-_VujgDZgfqSxqbqjlA4xI9a_aZTYbTAf6fh5egZxzJzsDVN2b20p7pEiqYRRI/s320/IMG_2395.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We eventually found our way to the hair salon and I managed to snag the last open spot for the next day at 11am. Afterwards we stopped in the Eglise du Sacré-Coeur (Notre-Dame du Pentecote). It was chilly inside, so much so that I could see my breath. As we walked around the nearly empty church you could hear the pigeons cooing from the bell tower; this place was impressive. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">(More photos at the end of this post) </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMjZjw8lqc_Bx9dRgB5gikOTgzNu-Mn52KPWdPPzHyTV91keBCJfZe59vpCgRdX2MUfYlxUwTLHZ4W9ELtjbcZUHZiopJRgW3ONlas2CsjJg9SwEDDAG5hlO-H-xuelYlgRGiIVrMJt4/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMjZjw8lqc_Bx9dRgB5gikOTgzNu-Mn52KPWdPPzHyTV91keBCJfZe59vpCgRdX2MUfYlxUwTLHZ4W9ELtjbcZUHZiopJRgW3ONlas2CsjJg9SwEDDAG5hlO-H-xuelYlgRGiIVrMJt4/s320/IMG_2415.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the cathedral as we walked to it.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">That night we met up with some of her friends and went to Guapa Bar where they played really fun music, i.e. remixes of James Brown and Michael Jackson. After some dancing I found myself incredibly exhausted despite it being early (2am), so we ran to catch the night bus back to Villeneuve. </span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Check back for Part 2, it'll be up soon!</span></i></div>
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-51711163032246156662012-03-27T13:45:00.001-04:002012-03-27T13:45:24.833-04:00Calling All International Connections!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Y0TSY1loy7RCM7DddfJ3RMSrZguKTCkZBXT-h7kbXhA51QoNSoBjSyEQTRRb7EGGqevfTKRBBkKogMFmi-_Xf8ssVhKnwWHbkZrmlOBCwBbQ87iQI0i9eONV2rkCqGQoq82lkn6fPkU/s1600/298867_1812725569049_1567321757_32180309_1964887824_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Y0TSY1loy7RCM7DddfJ3RMSrZguKTCkZBXT-h7kbXhA51QoNSoBjSyEQTRRb7EGGqevfTKRBBkKogMFmi-_Xf8ssVhKnwWHbkZrmlOBCwBbQ87iQI0i9eONV2rkCqGQoq82lkn6fPkU/s320/298867_1812725569049_1567321757_32180309_1964887824_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rebecca and I are to be reunited again soon!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">ALRIGHT ATTENTION PLEASE!!!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> My best friend Rebecca Jones </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">and I have our trip for this summer just nearly set up, aside from booking flights, trains, hostels, etc.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We'll be in:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">May 19th til May 23rd: (fly) Cookham/London, England</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">May 23rd- May 29th: (train) Edinburgh, Scotland</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">May 29th-June 1st/2nd: (fly) Prague, Czech Republic</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">June 2nd- June 6th: (train) Berlin, Germany</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">June 6th-June 11th: (fly) Barcelona, Spain</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">June 11th-June 13th: (fly) Sevilla, Spain</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">June 13th: (fly) Comin' Home!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Here's the dealio: do you have experience with the locations? Want to offer advice? Do you happen to know people that would show us around and/or want to offer us a couch to crash on? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">If so send me an email or write it in a comment, I'd love to hear all about it! This is a whirlwind trip for sure, I'm aware that all that travel is a little crazy....but I think it's totally do-able!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Also another request (I know, I'm needy!): Is there something that'd you'd like hear more about or that I have yet to write on? If so let me know in the comments, I've just reached 1700 views and I'd love to hear what my "public" wants to read!</span>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-11536752644009402402012-03-25T20:22:00.004-04:002012-03-26T07:58:36.996-04:00Banjoing in Granada<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My friend Erin took some video of me playing Angeline the Baker on top of the caves in Granada, check out the Alhambra in the background! It was an amazing day, so glad to have some footage of it too. Read the previous posts for more info on what all is going on here and why I'm in Granada.<br />
[This goes out to the Scowlgirls, wish ya'll could be here]Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com2Granada, Spain37.1764874 -3.597929137.0752744 -3.7558576 37.2777004 -3.4400006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-51905981574883658352012-03-13T15:50:00.002-04:002012-03-26T07:59:10.455-04:00Days 43-46: A 21st Birthday Celebration in Granada<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> There is so much to write about when it comes to this last weekend; eating tapas and kebabs, hosteling for the first time, skiing in the Sierra Nevada's, staying in a cave, playing banjo in and on said cave, visiting the Alhambra, staying out too late, and the best of it being that I got to share all of these experiences with some really amazing ladies. Oh and did I mention that it was also my birthday? That’s right, Ms. Josie Hoggard is officially 21 years old! This past weekend was the best way anyone could ever hope to celebrate a birthday, and I’m so grateful to have had the chance to spend it in Granada with such exceptional people. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Thursday, March 1st, 2012</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My birthday weekend started on Thursday. After class Sam and I met at the bus station and rode three hours to Granada, a picturesque city at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, with gypsy-style stores lining the maze of cobblestoned streets, and famous for it’s crown jewel: the Alhambra (more on that later). The bus ride itself is worth the ticket, but then to have this amazing city waiting for you seals the deal as one of the best weekend trips from Sevilla. Once you get out of the city of Sevilla everything is so open, there are fields of olive trees, and large tracts of green grass. The bus left just as the sun was setting; there was a rain storm racing along side of us towards the large mountains in the distance, and the resulting mixture of dark clouds and setting sun was gorgeous, I could tell right then that it was going to be a great weekend.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking back to the hostel</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUZAELFr1oFqigT_QSlWfEOjeG7L3WFKSpq9E0-EI1BzP-bUPpmmgrMQ3GdY1JkwSM_70Pvt-k7MW6641aJQV63dLYNzY_xW7kGFIxt_LmLWuTo4nLka7NWXc1szBz8jh3w8nb0aM2SY/s1600/IMG_1781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When we got into town we checked into the Oasis hostel (I would definitely recommend this place, free breakfast, free drink upon check-in, great staff, free coffee and tea all day, free internet access, and overall just a well-kept place all for 15€ a night). We dropped our stuff off on our bunks and made our way to a really delicious tapas bar called Babel. Granada is known for following the tradition of giving you a free tapas with the purchase of a drink, I wish more places would do this. The food at Babel was delicious and different from your normal spanish tapas, it was a hip little place that offered a variety of ethnically influenced dishes. My favorite tapa was actually one that Sam ordered, it was pulpo frito (fried octopus) with two different cotton-candied colored sauces on the side, yum!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After dinner we headed back to the hostel to meet up with the rest of our group who took the later bus, by about 23:30 we were all there and ready to go out. The chicas that would make up the cast of so-called cave princesses would be: Sabrina (University of Florida), Sam (University of Texas), Rose (Appalachian!), Erin (Appalachian!), and Joni (Appalachian!). These lovely ladies made my birthday weekend the best I could have ever hoped for, (I would like to take a minute to say thank you to everyone of you 5 for being who you are. You all are such wonderful people and I’m so glad that we’ve become friends. I can’t wait to see what the rest of our time here has to offer us, I’m so glad to be able to share this adventure with ya’ll.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Friday, March 2nd, 2012</b> (Happy Birthday to me!)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We went out to a bar but since Joni and I were getting up early to go skiing the next day, she and I headed back to the hostel to get some much needed sleep to prepare for a day of skiing. I got up at about 7:30 to grab breakfast, pack my stuff, and to check out. I got to have a conversation over breakfast with a very nice Argentinian family while enjoying a crêpe, cereal, and coffee. Joni and I left a little later than we had hoped (story of my life it seems). We had yet to buy our tickets to the ski mountain and weren’t sure how full the bus would be, so we were a little nervous as we made our way to the station. By some kind of birthday luck we managed to snag the last two tickets for the bus and hopped on the jam-packed coach. We sat up front and got to enjoy this amazing view:</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Once Joni and I got up there, rented our equipment, and bought our lift passes, we went to go find some hot mulled wine; something that Joni had had on her previous visit skiing here. We found a little stand with a younger Hungarian woman selling 2€ wine, and we sat to enjoy our delicious drink and to watch the snow that had just started falling up on the mountain. Joni struck up a conversation with the Hungarian woman, who turned out to be fluent in hungarian, spanish and english, and was a really nice person. She even gave me some yummy cocoa balls covered in caramel <i>por gratis </i>(for free) as a birthday present. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI1eHDDJClConP4K9KGyqw6KFCB6vo4723dBgt3pUpvbiZlWujHcEOS-lrpB9tY_WgocK286a24fKPq4c9PLnwadRUfqPdkAhAdO49VcM3RzTyRXyJhGbJj5KjvhYzq8BMSsa1tIM5bA/s1600/IMG_1844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI1eHDDJClConP4K9KGyqw6KFCB6vo4723dBgt3pUpvbiZlWujHcEOS-lrpB9tY_WgocK286a24fKPq4c9PLnwadRUfqPdkAhAdO49VcM3RzTyRXyJhGbJj5KjvhYzq8BMSsa1tIM5bA/s320/IMG_1844.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_VGZCGOccznAiJ5smQy4ywbw3pfk5GvAgJ8clELozThIBYOf0sLbnmrCb8KDhyQO1DpbjpbujVvahPViaF3YE34wTsTFu75cIH7of0mM1PpM8jz8kAnhAxhME6XMXTrTAWHwfMRFuJk/s1600/IMG_1850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After wine we went and gathered up all of our equipment and rode the gondola to start our first run of the day. The snow was coming down pretty good which gave us some fresh powder, but as far as visibility goes there wasn’t much we could see since we were using dinged up rental goggles. The skiing was great but intense since there wasn’t much definition between the snow, the space in front of you, and the mountainside. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday Girl (me) ready for some skiing!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">By about half-way through the day things started to clear up and I got to experience the best skiing of my life; it wasn’t terribly crowded, the sky was clear, and I had warmed up enough to be comfortable on the slopes. The runs are much longer up there, much different from North Carolina skiing, and I definitely got a work out. It was so nice to be skiing on something other than the ice-packed hills in Boone, there was actually the much sought after fresh and fluffy powder! Joni was a wonderful skiing partner, I had a great time hanging out with her on the slopes all day and she was a wonderful tour guide.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful ski partner, Joni!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I was totally exhausted when 16:30 (closing time) rolled around. After returning our gear we grabbed some hot chocolate before making our way to the bus. We, again, snagged the last two seats. Joni was so sweet to offer me the best seat on the bus, I got to sit directly next to the bus driver; a front-row seat to one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever witnessed. I had planned to nap the whole way down, but with a view like that there was no way I could fall asleep. The gray-purple snow storm clouds had cleared away enough to let the sun shine over the city of Granada, there was a pinkish-golden light cast over the white walled towns as we whizzed by them on our way down the mountain. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBS2_h3mrY4GKpkneAjoO2YAoDRNDNIR4m2qTwGA7s50nit3ivyYMlWNbeizU0tf31sXDgVKKOidYvlev_SWLW0tg7YtTVgv_8nW6AQJZinLf1DNpJ9AK9yh9bWBboZTAWLRD482EEpGc/s1600/IMG_1848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We met everyone at the hostel so that they could show us the way to where we would be staying the rest of the weekend: in a cave. Now don’t think we’re some crazy hippies going up on a mountain and staying in some hole in a wall, no this was no rinky-dink caveman cave. This was a Granada cave. But first we had to muster the strength and will to climb up to said Granada cave, no easy feat after skiing all day, one that would have been much worse if I had had to tote my banjo and clothes too (another example of how wonderful these ladies are, Rose had carried all my stuff up for me earlier that day).</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We trudged up the mountain for quite a bit, we eventually made it to the top and, oh man, was it worth the hike! The Alhambra was in view the entire way up, we turned the corner to find a white-walled compound of the caves called Las Cuevas Abánicos; our home for the rest of the weekend. The cave offered a patio with roof access, kitchen, full bathroom, two bedroom coves, and a sitting area. Here, I even took some video:</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After setting my stuff down and taking a look around I was told that there was one more birthday surprise for me and my chicas gave me an envelope addressed to “Josie Pants”. Inside was the 50€ I had paid to stay in the cave along some sweet drawings and a note stating:</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>“Josie’s Cave Ticket! First of all happy 21st birthday. This is a ticket for a free stay <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>in a real, authentic Granada cave. You can bring friends, invite people, play your <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>banjo, call dibs on a bedroom, get to shower first (or last- whatever you want!). <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Redeemable March 2nd-3rd, 2012” </i>. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Signed by Sam, Rose, Sabrina, Erin, and Joni. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">That’s right, on top of already getting to spend my birthday with them, they paid for my portion of the cave. Have I mentioned how grateful I am for them yet?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We hung out in the cave and I played banjo, as expected, the acoustics were quite lovely. After a bit of chatting we decided a nap-time would serve us well since we were going to DJ party that night that wasn’t supposed to get going til about 3am. We woke up from our naps at 22:00 to the smells of spaghetti that Erin and Sabrina had made for us.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Once we ate dinner we turned on some music and got ready to go out to hear DJ Hype. That night (well morning really) was an interesting experience, one that was definitely appropriate of a 21st birthday celebration, and one that, for the interest of time’s sake, I will spare you the details. Know this, we had a lot of fun and my girls are the best, and in true spanish style we stayed out til about 6:30, and we’re in bed by 7:30am. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Saturday, March 3rd, 2012</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Everyone slept in the next morning. We rolled out of bed by noon and fixed eggs-in-a-basket topped with gouda, and brewed some much-needed coffee. Sabrina, Erin, and I were headed to tour La Alhambra that day and would need all the help we could get to make it up there and actually enjoy the experience. Sam, Rose, and Joni had all been to Granada before, so they decided to spend the day sun-bathing on the roof of the cave. With the steep incline to the top of La Alhambra waiting for me I can’t say that I wasn’t envious of them, I hadn’t had much sleep and skiing the day before had my legs feeling like noodles. Somehow we managed to get ourselves to the top and make it to our tour on time, it was crowded but that didn’t take away from the view or from marveling at the lavish palaces.</span></span><br />
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Check out the etchings!!</div>
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Me doin' some marvelin'</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water features, this was on the side of a staircase, one of hundreds</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sabrina, myself, and Erin, posing on the bridge/terrace in the pa</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When it comes to the Alhambra I could spend hours describing the intricate etchings on the walls, the way the sun hits off of the thousands of water features, the carefully groomed gardens, and the panoramic view of the seemingly endless earth visible from atop the 2nd century fort, but despite all that I would never fully be able to capture the magnificence that comes with actually being at the Alhambra. It lives up to it’s hype 100% and it is a total must see. I will not bore you with feeble words, instead I’ll leave you my photos and tell you that if you’re ever in the area you have to make your way up that hill, it’s worth it.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One example of the exquisite mosaics found all over the Alhambra</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erin & Sabrina walking through the palace</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Archways leading to a courtyard</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">There were many cats to be found on the grounds, they make use of the spring fed water features<br />
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View from the Torre de la Vela</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking the other way on the Torre, the Sierra Nevada Mountains</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well groomed jardines (gardens)</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We toured the grounds for about 4 hours, skipping lunch so that we could take in as much as we could with the time we were given. By the end of all of our walking wwe were hungry and ready for a nap; we just had to hike back up to the cave first. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View as we walked back to the cave! Check out the Alhambra & that sunset!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When we got back we devoured the rest of the food in the cave and took a brief siesta, we decided that the best plans for us would be to go out for tapas and have a quiet last night in the cave. And that’s what we did. Sam showed us to a really good tapas bar on the other side of town and we passed by the very impressive cathedral on the way. After eating quite a few tapas we walked back to the cave, listened to music, and went to bed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Sunday, March 4th, 2012</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our roof.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Rose and I had intended to get up and watch the sunrise from our cave roof but somehow I managed to turn off my alarm without waking up. We woke up, instead, at 10:00. So as to not waste the morning inside waiting for everyone to get up, we made some tea and sat on the roof. I played banjo while looking out over the gorgeous view which may sound quite cliché or kitschy, but it was incredibly epic to actually do.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The usual: playing banjo on top of a cave.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Mirador</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Once everyone was up we headed into town to get some breakfast and coffee at a restaurant at the foot of the Alhambra. After shopping around town we rushed back up to the cave to pack up and move out, we were sad to leave our lovely princess cave! Joni walked Sabrina to the bus stop since she was scheduled for the earlier one, and so With all of our stuff in tow we set off to go find one of the better Miradors (Lookouts) to take in the Alhambra, Sierra Nevada’s, and surrounding valley. We did our best to make our way through the maze of hilly, cobblestoned streets, eventually we found ourselves in the right place, so we paused to take in the view. I took the opportunity to play the banjo some more and to take a breather, my calves were on fire!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmmm, kebab</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Eventually we met Joni near the cathedral to have one last kebab before catching the bus home. The kebabs in Granada are well priced and absolutely delicious, I’m afraid to guess how many I could devour if I were hungry enough. After lunch we headed to the bus station and arrived just in time to snag the whole last row on the bus to Sevilla. We spent the next three hours chatting, enjoying the scenery, and taking much-needed naps. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Truly a happy birthday</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When I got to my casa I still had a few birthday surprises waiting for me; I had a table full of birthday cards from family and friends to open, tons of Facebook birthday wishes and messages, and Gumer had bought me an ice-cream birthday cake to share with my new French roommates after our dinner. Overall this past week has been the best celebration of my 21st birthday I could have ever hoped for. Coming home to extra surprises was the cherry on top of a really sweet weekend. I am so grateful for everyone in my life, from the bottom of my heart thank you for being such wonderful and supportive people, words will never be able to express how much each of you mean to me. I could feel the love coming from all over the world, thank you!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>What's up next with me? Visiting one of my best friends, Gillie! Headed to Brussels, Belgium and then to Lille, France on Wednesday, March 13th. Check back for that post, it's gonna be an adventure for sure!</i></span></span></div>
</div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com3Granada, Spain37.1764874 -3.597929137.0752744 -3.7558576 37.2777004 -3.4400006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-61665454685347594612012-02-24T13:08:00.000-05:002012-02-24T13:08:18.324-05:00Days 29-31: Continued....Becoming a Street Performer and a Visit to the Market<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">(Saturday 02/19/2012-Sunday 02/20/2012)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The next day Erin and I met up in the morning to go to the Flamenco museum, which was a bit pricey but a good experience. It’s informative, has interactive exhibits, and some pretty interesting art, I recommend it if you have some free time here. Plus, if you pay a little extra you can return in the evening to see a live Flamenco show, however, Erin and I both had plans so we decided to pass on that offer. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I have softball practice every Saturday afternoon, playing this sport is not only a way for me to get some physical exercise but I’m also getting spanish exercise since I’m the only English speaker on the team. At a later time I’ll do a separate post all about the team, for now I’ll tell you that it’s made up of women of all ages, I think we range in age from 12 to 40-something, and we’re called the Sevilla Angeles. We practice on Wednesday’s and Saturdays and play games on Sundays, I’ve got my second scrimmage with them this weekend.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I had to leave practice early to make the train in time to get out to Dos Hermanas for my free jazz lesson and concert, but as usual I was running late. If you’ve ever tried to meet up with me before, you’ve probably noticed that I tend to run about 10-15 minutes late just about every time, not that I do it on purpose, it just how I am. Here that’s called ‘spanish-time’, being exactly on time isn’t all that big of a concern here, because realistically what does ten minutes of lateness ever actually do for your schedule? It’s another wonderful part of the culture that I adore, it makes me a lot less stressed out and it’s nice to not have to jog to make-up for my tardiness. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Well, the trouble is, that while most of it’s citizens run on this ‘spanish-time’, the trains do not. I showed up and bought my ticket just in time to watch my train pull off from the other side of the station. It would be another hour until the next train which meant that I would show up in time for the concert, but have missed the lesson. I sat down and ate my bocadillo that my host mother had packed me for dinner (sandwich with ham and cheese, and an apple), and contemplated what I should do. After mulling over my options I decided to just call it a night, I’d get back home much earlier than planned, but I didn’t mind the opportunity crawl into bed early since I would be getting up early the next day to meet Erin. I finished my sandwich, picked up my banjo, and hopped the metro back home, satisfied with calling it an early night, but still bummed to have missed the opportunity to play banjo with other people. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">As I walked the steps up the metro stop near my house I was contemplating if it was too late to play banjo in my room back at the apartment, when this wonderful and terrifying thought popped in my head: go play banjo on the street. I am slowly learning to not get nervous when playing in front of people, but I still get shaky when I perform around more than about 4 people. As my own personal challenge, I had written in my (afore mentioned) ‘to-do in Spain book’ that I wanted to play banjo on the streets of Sevilla. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I had an internal struggle at this point, there was one part of me that absolutely did not want to do this, it tried to convince the other, more adventurous part of me, that I could always do it ‘some other time’. The adventurer part in me brought up a point that the fear part couldn’t counter: if I didn’t do it now, when I was already out, banjo in hand, with nothing to do on a Saturday night, then when the heck would I do it?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">With that, I walked to the pedestrian street near my house called Calle Asuncion, a favorite spot for families to go walking, and that only had mild traffic at 9 o’clock at night; it wasn’t bustling, but it also wasn’t deserted. I sat my case down, got out my banjo (something that I’m fairly certain the majority of people of Calle Asuncion had never seen or heard in person), and began to tune up. Although my hands were shaking a bit, I started out with a tune called Old Joe Clark. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The first couple of rounds of it were, well a mess, but eventually I began to get comfortable and actually enjoy myself. After getting over my initial nervousness I couldn’t do anything but smile, I <i>was playing banjo on the streets in Spain. </i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I had been playing for about ten minutes when my first ‘patron’ stopped by. I had noticed a little girl, about 4 or 5 years old, point at me to her mom when they walked by. On their way back down the street the little girl was a few steps ahead of her mom and had a nervous look on her face. She had her little hand balled up and kept looking between me and her mom, who was standing behind encouraging her, as she continued to venture closer. Finally, with one last look up at me, she courageously tossed a few coins into my case and hurried back to her mom. I did my best to give her a big smile and to say gracias while not losing my place in the song; multi-tasking while playing isn’t a skill I’ve mastered just yet, but I managed to do so with mild success.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So now not only was I playing banjo, outside, on the streets of Spain, but I was also getting PAID to do it. Over the next hour I continued to have people toss coins in my case, as well as I had a few conversations with people who were quite curious about the banjo, and why I was in Spain with it. At about 10:15pm I decided to call it a night, I figured an hour of playing was enough for this first time, and I walked home with change in my pocket and still unable to stop smiling. The experience was priceless, but to have made 8.70€ on top of it, well it’s icing on the best darn cake I’ve eaten in a while. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I’ll be doing this again sometime soon, I’m working up the courage to play in el Centro where there tends to be a lot more people, something that I’m still not quite mentally prepared for, but I’m working on it!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The next day I awoke early to meet Erin to go to the open-air market that happens every Sunday. I was running late, as usual, but this time it was because my host mother had made me hot and fresh churros and chocolate for breakfast. No one in their right mind would pass that up, plus I didn’t want to be rude so I stuck around and chatted with Gumer over these deliciously sweet treats. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDSCAqIcCIvCRVLGD7MCq8q0NLASq7sfd4hwVwUqcxiFC9_DMq-OLFe_ipYCB3GM0a3F2YZxHwLqWgV6t5JhG-AHTsVHGiDemDHXru0pQ3ZIyPe6gIuyF9t4n0hyqtFe5YygR2zO9En8/s1600/IMG_1745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDSCAqIcCIvCRVLGD7MCq8q0NLASq7sfd4hwVwUqcxiFC9_DMq-OLFe_ipYCB3GM0a3F2YZxHwLqWgV6t5JhG-AHTsVHGiDemDHXru0pQ3ZIyPe6gIuyF9t4n0hyqtFe5YygR2zO9En8/s320/IMG_1745.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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(Click to enlarge the photos!)</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I eventually made it Erin’s apartment and we walked to the market, a much welcomed long walk that helped me burn off the heavier-than-usual breakfast that I had just indulged in. The market has a hundred different booths offering all types of clothing, fruits, vegetables, bread, shoes, housewares, and even live animals. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>It's officially strawberry season!!</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucfZM3lQnBFRTfQQXF237k9wLDkH6-iN9sxNTgzCg2QRCVz6K7NSFfV_-GuH2WWuZB_wJ-PUeHGVYELeT9hPAgNlK61_rniq43pqu8Dm7AQmmRTGjOPippzrFY4ChTNUG4fkxg0shgqE/s1600/IMG_1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucfZM3lQnBFRTfQQXF237k9wLDkH6-iN9sxNTgzCg2QRCVz6K7NSFfV_-GuH2WWuZB_wJ-PUeHGVYELeT9hPAgNlK61_rniq43pqu8Dm7AQmmRTGjOPippzrFY4ChTNUG4fkxg0shgqE/s320/IMG_1754.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3CQoMviduljOibVatptHkBjUUkqbJPrHl0Wo4T_46yY54OS46z9fPWQS-XEbObnkAl8bw3Oeinb8_1ePtDu-MVzwK3OJNvF7VLPxle7YEAzMZGskX0hNESKgy90bXfifyWT-RC69Zsc/s1600/IMG_1770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">On my two visits I’ve managed to purchase a pair of house slippers, a purse, a ridiculous t-shirt, a coin-purse, and a jacket all for less than 20€. The best thing, in my opinion, about this market is the 1 euro fresh pastry truck, something that if you keep your eye out for will provide you with the best deal that you can find there. Even after starting my morning with a full plate of churros and a large mug of hot-chocolate, I couldn’t manage the self-control required to turn one of these down. Erin and I split a gigantic vanilla cake-like pastry covered in a chocolate icing with a lemon glaze filling, after which we sat in the sun and enjoyed a cup of café con leche (expresso and milk), before I walked myself home. A sweet ending to another sweet weekend here in Sevilla!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">This past weekend marked my one month anniversary of being in Spain, I love it here but I’m missing home too. Midterms coming up soon, but first a big weekend because: I’m turning 21 on March 2nd!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-63875029199071245142012-02-24T11:54:00.000-05:002012-02-24T13:07:43.997-05:00Days 29-31: Itálica and Brazilian Food (Yes, I'm still in Spain)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVR7z-8hpHyX1_8EebwfygD78G4luxWD29mMvAekpy7bWBSgNzzEVKkwbQaQ_ABWuyniAnusw64AF3kTHFapWQG8ZjZYKxetuAdjYT8C8DMWkb5oBgfZvmjDtuh4Hip0_sJHw0Z5XzjQ/s1600/IMG_1586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVR7z-8hpHyX1_8EebwfygD78G4luxWD29mMvAekpy7bWBSgNzzEVKkwbQaQ_ABWuyniAnusw64AF3kTHFapWQG8ZjZYKxetuAdjYT8C8DMWkb5oBgfZvmjDtuh4Hip0_sJHw0Z5XzjQ/s320/IMG_1586.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><i>Olive trees on the grounds of Itálica</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">(Thursday 02/17/2012-Sunday 02/18/2012)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">To be honest, I think that everyday I spend here deserves a blog post. There is always something new to be experienced or strange anecdotes to tell about, but I find that the most interesting things of all seem to happen on the weekend. This is especially nice because I get to enjoy a three and a half day weekend <i>every week. </i>That’s right,<i> no Friday classes</i>, which is a first in my entire 15 years of schooling. This past weekend was no exception to the awesomeness-occurring-on-the-weekend rule. What I originally thought would be a ‘boring’ weekend found a way to turn into one of nice surprises, apparently there’s no such thing as a boring weekend in Spain.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thursday night a handful of the usual suspects (Rose, Erin, Anna, Sabrina, Joni, Jessy) and I met up for tapas and decided to go check out an open jazz jam in las Alamedas. It was in a low-key bar and not too crowded, we grabbed some drinks before the second set started and sat back to enjoy the music. At around midnight the session began to wind down, I got the chance to talk to the bass player before we left and we got to talking about music. It came up that I play a little banjo and happened to have one with me, which he got really excited about. He told me about a bigger concert in a town near Sevilla called Dos Hermanas going on Saturday evening, and if I came before it there would be a jazz combo lesson that I could attend for free. Plans for the weekend were still up in the air so I told him I’d do my best to make it, if not this weekend then definitely another time. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Ruins of a very fancy Roman home, some very rich people lived here.</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">A replica of a statue of the emperor Trajan, the original has been moved to a museum.</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Still not sure why they were dressed up, but dozens of adorable spanish children were running around in Roman costumes, can't say that I didn't envy them a little. </i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The little Roman in the middle looks so stoic here.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The next day UPO had planned a day trip for the international students to the nearby Itálica ruins. Itálica was a Roman town established in 206 BC, (for more information on this here’s the wikipedia link: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%C3%A1lica"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Itálica</span></a>). It was built for wounded Roman soldiers harmed during the Battle of Illipa, and it is best known for being the birthplace of the emperor Trajan. It’s difficult to capture this place on camera because visually it is ‘just a pile of rocks’, being there makes it much more impressive. You get this incredible feeling of the grandeur that once existed there, being surrounded by the ruins of a once-great empire that I’ve been reading about since about 4th grade. Roman history is so much more captivating when you’re standing on the same ground of the ancient peoples, it also helps having a passionate and knowledgable tour guide like we did.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic;">Rose, Jessy, and Chuck roamin' around the Roman ruins.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFDj5BNErwIdf9-tGvOiUN4OMW5lbmEIiP48x6IhtG7pVGsC3Jx-rBXPCNM67HugaS8yNl7dmruXvacdudtdxaBs1lEi1q556GLAJ9NXEq-QZeyCh3it4fsLeWFCAd9U4LlZS6CTZQEw/s1600/IMG_1587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"></span></i></a><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The most impressive of the ruins is the amphitheater which is still fairly well intact. In it’s hay-day it would seat 25,000 people who gathered to watch fights of all kinds: gladiator vs. gladiator, beast vs. gladiator, & beast vs. beast. The pit in the middle of the amphitheater was where the large animals were kept, they would rise out of the earth on a pulley system and be presented to the awaiting crowd. Interesting tidbit about fights with these ‘beasts’: they could, quite often, be very dull to attend. If the lions didn’t want to fight, well then 25,000 people would sit there and watch a lion enjoy lounging about in the sun. It had never occurred to me that a beast fight would be anything but enthralling, but it does makes total sense, I mean, have <i>you </i>ever been successful in making a cat do something that it didn’t want to do?</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The halls inside the amphitheater, this is where the gladiators waited to go out to fight.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><i>View from inside the amphitheater looking out, standing where the gladiators stood before their fight is a surreal feeling. You can see the animal pit in the middle-ground.</i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5wIemic7NcWfiDf3UTfpAUgMT7OaiKoHp-7JqcwIn9S-dzgwmGdjHhgev-k3rbjO4si8q_NwslTrRou3Pn3tCgpXkhBPmqxRU412S1uk-chyDzuS_Izoe3rnm3gJyj05EqfFMCWJEoI/s1600/IMG_1615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5wIemic7NcWfiDf3UTfpAUgMT7OaiKoHp-7JqcwIn9S-dzgwmGdjHhgev-k3rbjO4si8q_NwslTrRou3Pn3tCgpXkhBPmqxRU412S1uk-chyDzuS_Izoe3rnm3gJyj05EqfFMCWJEoI/s320/IMG_1615.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the amphitheater from the hillside.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKmk94DR0Po5fsUmCMpm6-Gm67KKdD_k2ZHKPTwZEZxZ_iu2oBrD_Ad8E7Z3dAlPbQ2jwzfaL_EFq8pFnqtBp1CWM85jophaWn-0OiabFoiLG0ual5xPu70rVTLPUtpDNLy64BkhH-Bk/s1600/IMG_1693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: small; white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After touring the grounds for a bit, Rose, Jessy, Chuck, and I walked around the surrounding town to idle away some time before meeting up with Anna, Joni, and Erin at the Brazillian restaurant (the real reason for coming out to Itálica). We tried to make it to the monastery at the edge of town before it closed at 2 but, alas, we got distracted by a see-saw. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> We made it to the restaurant where the chicas had already grabbed us a table outside in the sun. In case you’ve never heard of these types of Brazillian restaurants, well let me tell you.....they are <i>amazing. </i>You have access to an all you can eat salad bar, rice and beans, pasta, and they come around with <i>eight </i>different varieties of meat, all of which have been cooked over an open fire on a skewer. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Notice Erin in the left hand corner, we had worked up an appetite from so much walking.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>She may look weary of her ability to finish all that was brought before her, but in the end we were all successful in trying all of the 8 meats.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> I don’t really get access to very many fresh vegetables here, we are served the occasional chopped up head of iceberg lettuce at my host, and so I was most excited about the salad bar. While it didn’t really offer your typical salad fare (aka fresh spinach plus vegetable toppings, which is what I’ve been craving), they did have a few different non-cooked vegetable dishes which I filled my plate up with on my first visit. The meats come out in rounds so you have plenty of time to work on your salad plate while waiting. Even with ‘splurging’ on a fresh mango juice I spent just 12€, which is the most that I’ve spent on a meal here and it was definitely worth it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Another fun fact: this time last year I was vegan which means no meat, no cheese, milk, butter, or any animal by-product whatsoever, talk about a turn-around. </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Check the next post for days 30 & 31!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></i></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-39843695532681715002012-02-13T08:44:00.002-05:002012-02-13T08:44:56.706-05:00The (Not-so) Typical Spanish Experience<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I’ve been very fortunate since my arrival to have been given the opportunity to experience things that I can’t imagine a lot of spanish people get to experience, let alone an exchange student from the US. From authentic japanese food cooked by my room-mate Azusa, going to a flamenco fashion exposition and runway show, listening to my host-father play flamenco guitar, and my favorite experience yet, going to a country-swing/bluegrass night at a <i>very </i>authentic spanish bar.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As I’ve mentioned before in one of my blogs, we had a room mate from Tokyo, Japan for a 2-week period while she went to an intensive spanish school. Azusa has since left to do more traveling before returning back home, but before she left she fixed an authentic japanese dinner for us. I don’t remember the name of the dish, but it involved chicken and a sauce made out of soy sauce, sake, onion, and it was pretty good! The best part of that experience was watching my host mother, Gumersinda, and Azusa work together in the kitchen to make the meal. Despite some slight language barriers they cooked and laughed and in the end made a delicious meal that Jenna, Azusa, Gumer, and I all sat down to enjoy together. Picture this: two americans, a japanese exchange student, and an Andalusian host-mother gathered around the table sharing a meal of authentic japanese food in Spain.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The next evening I was sitting at my desk in my room when Gumer came around the corner with a big smile on her face, which with her is always a sign that something great is about to happen. She went on to explain that her daughter, María Dolores (Lolo), had given her some extra passes to get into the SIMOF (Salon Internacional de la Moda Flamenca {translation: International Flamenco Fashion Fair}), where her designs were being put on display, and she wanted to know if I wanted to go. Unfortunately I was busy so I said no. Of course I’m only joking! I would have to be crazy to pass that kind of offer up, so I quickly got dressed, and Azusa, Gumer, and I headed out to the street where Paco was waiting in the car. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The car ride, always nerve racking experience in Spain, was an especially white-knuckle ride with half-deaf Paco behind the wheel. He and Gumer shouted back and forth debating the best way to get there, eventually we had to stop and ask directions. We ultimately made it to the fair, it was held at a giant open arena much like the exposition areas at the Greensboro Coliseum (local reference for my NC readers). There were dozens of booths featuring all of different fashions typical of flamenco world: shoes, hair combs, fans, jewelry, shawls, and, of course <i>lots </i>of dresses.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlscLvajArFj5bGQzwFL38Kww1H7cqwRTt4lrKoISveeoJHX0nSgVtG-4brKCWad6cqoov47xfFbbQeqpSFHBpGaMEq5gNZsd3KBua9xaSSK1gIaHueM-zgtSf2Im6wbQrI8fwKyecmM/s1600/IMG_0989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlscLvajArFj5bGQzwFL38Kww1H7cqwRTt4lrKoISveeoJHX0nSgVtG-4brKCWad6cqoov47xfFbbQeqpSFHBpGaMEq5gNZsd3KBua9xaSSK1gIaHueM-zgtSf2Im6wbQrI8fwKyecmM/s320/IMG_0989.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lolo with the owners of the shoe company<br />
that chose her designs, she made that shoe!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Mercedes (the host sister that lives with us), her boyfriend Alejandro, and a few of their cousins were there with Lolo, who was all smiles. The fact that she had made it to this showcase is a very big deal, she was very excited and you could tell how proud everyone was of her. </span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">She didn’t have enough tickets to get Azusa and I into the runway show so we wandered around the different booths while everyone went in to watch the catwalk. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTFbuzbXxs2QYKtFjTNoAp3HTXaQpzSnsKNAEtBsOkwiH8TRO27qunfhM3txhctAaBuI8UOpydheiavPzQZxgDPDkatZczL_K25WQz9sHcXzKrK_wKAThd9Ko3uJaVdwxvKjWVa55b0w/s1600/IMG_0929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTFbuzbXxs2QYKtFjTNoAp3HTXaQpzSnsKNAEtBsOkwiH8TRO27qunfhM3txhctAaBuI8UOpydheiavPzQZxgDPDkatZczL_K25WQz9sHcXzKrK_wKAThd9Ko3uJaVdwxvKjWVa55b0w/s320/IMG_0929.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my favorite dress booth in the exhibition center.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I had circled the booths a few times when out popped Gumer from behind the door, again with a big grin on her face. She preceded to sneak me in for the tail in of the show. We walked right through the VIP entrance and I got to watch the final presentation of the dresses on stage. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNf6LPKFS3K6lN2I-jT2A717m53eMCf891Az0MzviI3EIkn0UKSkZeOpJpZGYPzU6hhEHzdZhenO9bbHhmQPThYk8aVgVosiiZoj9lB3EqXPtyEekobzKBZriTma2KoMO7BZ3D-LWlbQ/s1600/IMG_1011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNf6LPKFS3K6lN2I-jT2A717m53eMCf891Az0MzviI3EIkn0UKSkZeOpJpZGYPzU6hhEHzdZhenO9bbHhmQPThYk8aVgVosiiZoj9lB3EqXPtyEekobzKBZriTma2KoMO7BZ3D-LWlbQ/s320/IMG_1011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins, Mercedez (brown jacket), Alejandro, Lolo, and her boyfriend</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I now understand the draw of such shows; I was surrounded by glamorous people (some of which are famous here in Spain, but none of which I knew), I was seeing the latest fashions before anyone else, and upon leaving the show we were given free stuff (eye-liner and nail polish). Six months ago if you would have told me that I would be going to a runway show at any point in my life I would have chuckled, let’s just say they aren’t really my kind of thing. Not only did I go to one, I went to a <i>flamenco </i>runway show, was snuck in by my adorable host mother, and actually enjoyed it! The flash-bulbs of cameras, the live music, the fabulous dresses, and serious models marked another surreal experience for me, again it was like something out of a movie (well okay, maybe Project Runway). </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Everyday we eat our meals in the living/dining room, and everyday I notice a guitar case peeking out from behind the door. Gumer had mentioned that Paco used to play flamenco guitar, and since losing his hearing he hadn’t played much in 10 years, but she said that if I asked he might just play for me. Yesterday my curiosity finally got the best of me and so after he served us lunch I asked if I could see his guitar. His son had mentioned that it was a very special and expensive guitar, and I used that as an excuse to see if he would show it to me. He shuffled into the living room, pulled the it from the corner it sat in, and placed it on the table. He opened the worn case to reveal the very beautiful instrument inside it. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxnxVU30Y80oq2HzQmsSA08hCi4smKJv420q2IwgxEx5jUzDqk6mFaTjaD_5NaVOI9RCe0D5SV8_8g9N0qIXgfsXtSXcSIWnBs_ADaRCan_IyVfT_83Did_7-HWO_pxddZN75U8vznw0/s1600/IMG_1407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxnxVU30Y80oq2HzQmsSA08hCi4smKJv420q2IwgxEx5jUzDqk6mFaTjaD_5NaVOI9RCe0D5SV8_8g9N0qIXgfsXtSXcSIWnBs_ADaRCan_IyVfT_83Did_7-HWO_pxddZN75U8vznw0/s320/IMG_1407.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">He explained that the guitar had been given to him many years ago. It had been passed around between many musicians throughout the years and, while a little dinged up from use, it had history and a great sound. Being a musician and losing your hearing must be devastatingly frustrating but despite that, and despite not having his nails grown to the proper length, I sat down across from Paco and he played for me. While the guitar was slightly out of tune, and Paco out of practice, his ability was evident. He told me how he had played in many flamenco bars throughout the years, that the guitar had played music for dancers all over Sevilla. He smiled as he pointed out that the guitar was at least twice as old as I. It was a very special experience for me and I think Paco enjoyed the attention too, he says he’ll try and grow his nails back out and play for me again sometime.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Before I left North Carolina I had emailed around to see if I could find anyone who played ‘banjo-music’ in Spain, not really expecting to find anything. Sure enough though I was directed to a man named Ramón, a Sevillano and Scruggs-style banjo player. He plays with a group of people under the band name of Blue Mountain for their bluegrass band, and the Surrounders for their country-swing band. Ramón told me about their up coming concert and invited me to come check it out. Erin and I met up before and enjoyed a lovely dinner, then we walked to the Albaceria Casa Tono where the show was. The place was packed with locals, I think we were the only Americans there, but the music coming from the bar was most definitely not Spanish. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The first sounds that I could hear were the twangy slides of a lap-steel guitar. We made our way through the crowd which revealed a stage of four musicians surrounded by a plethora of instruments: Dobro, acoustic guitar, drum-set, stand-up bass, lap-steel, mandolin, fiddle, and a banjo. We had successfully found, in my opinion, the most unusual musical experience to be had in Spain. Erin and I posted up right next to the stage area, we had a front-row seat to one of the only bluegrass shows to be found in this part of the world. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire night. They played and sang a variety of country-swing and bluegrass classics. My American-ness was noted by Ramón (the banjo player) when I began to sing along to Man of Constant Sorrow, he turned and gave me a huge smile. In between sets I finally got to talk with him in person. He is most definitely Andalusian because his spanish accent was thick and difficult to understand, especially in the crowded bar but nonetheless, we had a nice conversation.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">His love of bluegrass started when he was 18, someone had given him a cd of the Kentucky Colonels and from that moment there was no turning back-he was hooked. A few years down the road he found a banjo, began learning Scruggs-style, and convinced his friend to learn fiddle. Since then they have played all over Spain, Europe, and have even made a couple of appearances at IBMA in Nashville. Ramón, quite humbly might I add, told me that he’s played on stage next to Sam Bush. His bass player, originally from Sevilla, lived in California for quite a while, has spent time in the Asheville area, and speaks impeccable English. The man on the fiddle, who’s name I have yet to catch, used to play rock and roll, but has taken it upon himself to learn bluegrass-style mandolin, Dobro, steel-guitar, and lead-vocals. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Our friend Sabrina arrived just as they were getting back on stage; she had her friend with her too which raised the American count up to 4. When the second set started the crowd was very excited, they were loving the music and quite a few people got up to dance. As Sabrina pointed out, when the band was playing it was like being in the US, it wasn’t until they began speaking in spanish to introduce the next song that we realized that we were actually in a bar 4000 miles from home. Below is some video to serve as proof that this actually happened, something that I still have a hard time believing. (I’m still learning with my new camera so some of the video gets cut off)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">They play once a month in Sevilla and so there are still quite a few of their shows to go to. Ramón has invited me to come play with he and a few other people at a local park once it warms up enough to play outside, I’ll be sure to write about that when it happens. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Bluegrass in Spain. Who-da thunk it?</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-29360669718397690922012-02-07T16:00:00.000-05:002012-02-07T16:00:28.674-05:00Day 16 & 18: New Friends and Day Trip to Ronda<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Sur lo Hace Su Gente, translation: The People Make the South<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">There are some really great people that have found themselves to be students at UPO and I’m glad to say that we’re all getting along just fine. Walking around our little international student corner of the campus means that I run into many of the same people everyday. We have an eclectic mix of students at UPO, there are a lot of Americans (including fellow Mountaineers), but there are also students from Norway, France, Germany, England, Croatia, Florida, Canada, and numerous other countries.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Schneider Weisse- yum.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">students (as well as a handful of lovely, non-App students) got together this past Thursday at the Cerveceria Internacional to try out beers from around the world. Prices were a bit high, but in the end they were worth it. Cruzcampo (the local beer) isn’t much to speak of as far as taste goes (blasphemy- i know!), and so I have been looking for a place to enjoy a decent beer. Despite the cost, the cerveceria is a great place for any of you beer lovers out there who might find yourself in Sevilla. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good friends, good times<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I enjoyed a wonderful wheat ale from Germany to start out the night, it wasn’t too heavy and it had this amazing citrus taste to it; the size/taste to price ratio definitely worked out in my favor. After a stop at another bar I decided to call it a night fairly early (because 2:00am is early here....). There are many more nights to be shared with these people, I’m glad to find myself surrounded by such a great crowd.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many great views to be seen in Ronda<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Saturday marked my first day trip from Sevilla. About 15 of us met at the bus stop at 10am to take the direct route to Ronda. The ticket cost 22 euro round-trip and the town is only 2 hours away, a trip that I HIGHLY recommend. Ronda is in a more elevated region, something that I hear is really nice when you’re trying to escape the summer heat, but it’s a negative thing in the winter. Taking pictures without gloves on was a torturous experience. It was cold but the views, museums, and company made the day totally worth losing feeling in my toes and fingers.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top of the bridge<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The five of us broke off from the main group early on in our trip, it consisted of myself, Erin (ASU), Joni (ASU), Sabrina (Florida), and Anna (Germany), we started our day with a cup of café and a map. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top: View of the bridge during hike, Bottom: like I said...<br />a not-so-well beaten path (Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Huddled around the cafetería table we chose our top two museum choices, proposed sights to see, and sketched a rough itinerary that would have us back to the bus stop in time for our departure at 7:00pm. Joni was our tour guide first, she had noticed on the map (or heard of,</span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">or something...still not sure how we found it) a little trail that led down to the bottom of the beautiful old bridge that Ronda tends to be known for. We followed a not-so-well beaten path that wound down a rocky cliff side to a seemingly-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">abandoned watermill kind of place at the foot of the bridge. Though weary at first of the very sketchy location, our curiosity paid off in the end as these adventures tend to do. For the adventurous, this is a hike that is well worth it.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Left: Water wheel and gears, not too sure what the place was for, but it was interesting and probably the perfect setting for a horror film. Right: The view at the very end of the trail/mill, worth the hike, check out the beautiful blue water! </span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">(Click to enlarge)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> After our hike back up the hillside we found our way to art museum called Museo Joaquín Peinado, a showcase of the Ronda-born artist Joaquín Peinado, an early 20th century cubism painter and friend of Picasso. Not only was the art lovely, it was also a great chance to escape the bitter cold. While the museum wasn’t exactly toasty, it was definitely warmer than the windy cliff side that we had just climbed up.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erin checking out some of Joaquín Peinado's works<br />(Click the flickr link on the left for more photos of our trip)<br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I have started a list, one that is being added on to everyday, of things that I want to do in Spain, and after lunch I had my first chance to mark something off: go to a tasting of Spanish wine. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The Centro Interpretación del Vino de Ronda where for 4 euro we could tour the museum and have a tasting of wines from Ronda. </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top: Sabrina, Erin, and Anna taste the wine, <br />Middle: Wine cask Bottom: the dangers of the smell room<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> This little museum wasn’t extremely exciting, if you’re a wine drinker this isn't the best place for a true wine tasting, but we had a great time anyways (and plus the wine comes out of <i>fountains </i>that stick out from the wall.....). The 'museum' wasn't much to speak of, there were a few examples of the ways wine has been stored, as well as a little room full of the different “scents of wine”. (Careful with that room though, not all the smells were good, the bad ones can sneak up on you without warning). The museum was freezing though, when we reached the point where we couldn’t feel our toes and fingers we decided to march on. Anna led us this time with promises of a tetería that she had heard of in her guide book.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8PpQogT1zNDlQElJ_KYOTdkPKDyPsaUOIRfFbM8ApNIGx4o2m_6KCrpc1d3Uf_pxTTbpuFhRSG99Fa6M7TabjhJcw6YWXl0Pm44dydf-4lo_MzvXd6rP-uAwcismjZnvnYO2ubucpXk/s1600/IMG_1325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8PpQogT1zNDlQElJ_KYOTdkPKDyPsaUOIRfFbM8ApNIGx4o2m_6KCrpc1d3Uf_pxTTbpuFhRSG99Fa6M7TabjhJcw6YWXl0Pm44dydf-4lo_MzvXd6rP-uAwcismjZnvnYO2ubucpXk/s320/IMG_1325.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> She took us to the tea house by way of the Arch de Philipe V, a beautiful stone arch built in 1742 that frames the picturesque white buildings on the other side, a view that not even the cold could keep us from appreciating. We all stopped for photos and to take in the panorama, then hurried on our way to the tetería. This little tea shop was the perfect finale to a wonderful day, we chose a table next to the <i>very </i>hot gas stove and enjoyed coffee, tea, and crêpes. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Ronda was absolutely gorgeous, it is touristy but the views of the surrounding mountains, high bridges, cobbled streets, and blue sky make this a day trip that I would highly recommend to anyone that has the time. If you find yourself with some extra time, good company, a map, and willingness to lose the feeling in your toes, head over to Ronda- a town that is wonderful even in the freezing cold.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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(Left: Sunset makes this place look deceptively warm. Don't be fooled. Right: Fun times with great people, pictured: Me, Erin, Sabrina, Joni, Anna)</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">If you find yourself with some free time and want more information on the wonderful town that is Ronda please read this story by Leigh Ann Henion, a former professor of mine and an amazingly talented writer/photographer: <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/03/20/AR2009032001650.html"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/03/20/AR2009032001650.html</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">For more of her work visit www.leighannhenion.com</span></span></div>
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</div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-45381703944341726322012-02-06T02:18:00.000-05:002012-02-06T02:21:13.849-05:00Day 13: And Scool Begins!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">This week was my first full week of classes here in Spain at the Universidad Pablo de Olavide, I’m only taking 12 hours this semester but all of them are in spanish. Universidad Pablo de Olavide (UPO) is a university located outside of the city limits, I take the metro everyday and I really love that. Public transportation can be such a learning experience even in the United States, you get to see the local dress, learn some of the more colloquial phrases, and meet all kinds of people. Sevilla has a very nice and economical public transportation featuring buses, trams, and the metro. It’s also a semi-major hub for buses and trains that will take you wherever you’d want to go within Spain and beyond. The metro system here is still very new and clean, it’s a single line so it’s direct and simple to use, and there is a stop very close to my house that takes me to straight to school in about 15 minutes. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The school itself is nothing special really, it’s a place for studies and there isn’t much of an on-campus life. Unfortunately, the international students are kind of sequestered in a few class rooms found in the upper part of the library. We have yet to meet any spanish students since we’re exiled into our own corner, but once their exams are over I’m sure we’ll have more opportunities to run into the regular students.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I have 3 classes on Mondays and Wednesdays starting at 9am lasting til 1:30pm. My day starts with a class called Fonética y Fonología (Phonetics and Phonology) with a professor named Manuel Mejías, it’s a fairly cut-and-dry kind of class, we study the accentuation, pronuciation, and intonation of letters/words, it’s the study of the basic building blocks of a language. Next class is Pragmáticas y Comunicación (Pragmatics and Communications) and this one will probably be my favorite when things are all said and done, if not for the subject matter then definitely for the professor. Enrique, my professor, is a very excited and flamboyant spaniard, there isn’t a moment that he isn’t moving around and he loves interacting with his students. He also loves country music, s’mores, and is always telling jokes. The subject matter of the class, pragmatics, is almost as interesting as Enrique, it’s a field study found within linguists that studies how context contributes to meaning, and how extra-lingual aspects contribute language, . My other class on those days is Lectura y Redacción (Reading and Writing) and we’ll be doing just as the name describes, we’ve been assigned novel that seems fairly easy and short, but I hope it will prove to be interesting. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">On Tuesdays and Thursdays I only have one class, but I have a feeling that it will be to be my most challenging one. It’s a class called Relaciones Políticos entre los Estados Unidos y América Latina (Political Relations between the U.S. and Latin America), so far it’s extremely interesting. The real challenge will be that I have to learn an entirely new spanish vocabulary of complex words used in political and historical studies in order to come across as coherent and to build a semi-intelligent/well-informed argument. The professor is very well informed and enthusiastic about the subject, he’s spent time all over latin america. His thick accent, which is a strange mixture of andalusian and caribbean spanish, through me for a loop the first class.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I have a nice school schedule, I have classes in the morning and I get to be home in time for lunch. After lunch, I usually either take advantage of the time-honored tradition of siesta or I do one of my new favorite activities: getting lost in the city. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Walking is by far my favorite means of getting around, not only is it free, but I get to really experience the city; the sights, the sounds, the smells. Siesta hours are the perfect time to go walking because the streets are fairly quiet, but there is still enough of the city out and about to keep me entertained. I’ve attached some photos of some of my excursions. Last week I stuck to the small back-streets found within el Centro, starting behind el Catedral, but my first week I took my time winding the streets of Los Remedios (my neighborhood) and Triana (very old section of town, neighbor of my neighborhood). These tiny streets are laid out in a very old-fashioned way with no real grid system, more a maze of unmarked road that criss-crosses and folds back on itself. A maze that can be quite disorienting when you aren’t getting lost for fun, but one that keeps my feet moving and allows my mind to wander rather than it having to focus on getting from point A to B. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Here is where I should interject that Sevilla is a very safe city. All of my wandering goes on in populated areas during daylight hours, and I promise that I keep my wits about me at all times (despite my wandering mind). My host mother, a seasoned host of many years, says that her students have never run into any trouble during their stay here aside from a few disappearing purses at clubs and maybe the occasional pickpocket. (Also an important interjection: she did caution us to remain weary and aware no matter how comfortable we get, wise advice that should be heeded by everyone, no matter your location in the world).</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"></span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-81687143148208738772012-01-28T09:17:00.000-05:002012-01-28T09:17:58.121-05:00Day 4: Home Sweet Home<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Well, what a week it has been! It feels like I’ve been here longer than that, I already am getting quite comfortable with my host family and feel oriented when I walk around the city. Last Saturday my lovely friend (and tour guide, and translator, and amazing person) Sara and her friend picked me up at Kelsey and Trevor’s apartment to drive me over to the home-stay where I will be living until May. The drive was quick and a learning experience of it’s own. The drivers here have to be a little crazy to maneuver around the city efficiently and I found myself picking up on a few new colloquial phrases to use in times of stress.....in the end we made it safely and I was left to move in and to become acquainted with my hosts and roommate.</span></span></div>
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<i>Map of Sevilla. Sticking with the saying....home is where the heart is: Los Remedios</i></div>
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<i>One of the bigger roads near my house</i></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The apartment is on a small road in the neighborhood called Los Remedios; a (relatively) quiet family neighborhood. It is a prime location: just far enough away to avoid all of the traffic noise, but still close enough to the center that I can walk just about anywhere. I was definitely nervous before arriving to this strange new place, something that was made worse by the fact that I was greeted by my host father Paco. Paco is in his upper-sixties, short (about 5’5”), speaks only spanish, and is fairly deaf despite having hearing aids. The fact that he is partially deaf (and that I didn’t realize this until day 2) made my welcome less than ideal, he seemed to interrupt whatever I was saying and used lots of hand gestures while shouting cryptic Andalusian spanish at me during my brisk tour around the apartment. Thank goodness my roommate Jenna was there and just as confused as I was, it’s comforting to not be alone during culture exchanges like that one. After the tour Paco left Jenna and I to unpack our things and to get settled into our room.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Jenna McAuliffe is a junior English major at Richmond University in Virginia and hails from a town near Boston, MA, she’s been here for a few weeks taking an intensive spanish course. I anticipate that this semester we’ll not only be sharing a room, but also other interesting experiences that come with moving to a foreign country. While unpacking we realized that Paco had made us both worried; we hoped that the arrival of our host mother would quell any nerves that our host father had instilled in us, otherwise this could turn out to be a looong semester.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When Gumersinda arrived my nerves were not only quelled, but completely vanquished. Gumersinda is about 60 years old, she has a warm smile, laughs a lot, and loves this city. She’s from a smaller town near Sevilla and, along with Paco, has raised 6 children and has 2 grandchildren. Oh and did I mention that she can cook? Part of our home-stay contract includes 3 meals a day, something that could have made the semester rough if I were paired with someone who didn’t serve palatable meals. Fortunately for me she’s got cooking skills (but while they may be good, my mom (Jinni) still gets the award for being best cook ever). The eating schedule here is a bit different than that at home, we eat breakfast at around 9am and it’s very light (usually toast and coffee), then lunch at 3pm which is the largest meal of the day, and dinner at 9pm or sometimes later which is usually the amount of a typical american lunch portion. I tend to keep busy so I don’t get too hungry during the day, and if I do I just see it as the perfect excuse to try out a new tapas bar. At some point I’m going to do an entire blog post dedicated to the food system here.....</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Since I get up fairly early in the morning I’ve had the opportunity to sit and chat with Gumer over breakfast. I’m getting accustomed to her accent and she’s very good about helping to explain anything that I don’t understand. The other night I came to the conclusion that it is some kind of fate that has brought us together. Jenna and I were with Gumer on Facebook looking at pictures of her family when a photo of her in a blonde wig and bright clothes came up. We asked her who she was dressed as and, with a big grin, she explained that she dressed up as Lady Gaga for New Years Eve! Her family had had a big party that night and so she surprised them by dressing up. She had her son blast Gaga while shining a spotlight on her for her grand entrance, she said the entire family was in stitches, as was Jenna and I while she told us about it. This woman loves life and making people happy, that night we all danced around to Alejandro (her favorite Lady Gaga song) before Jenna and I got ready to go out. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">There are two other people living with us right now, her daughter Mercedes who is about 30ish, as well as a student from Tokyo, Japan. Azusa is 18, speaks english and a little spanish, and is here for two weeks at a private college taking intensive language courses. She’s pretty brave to come all this way by herself without knowing the language, she’s been working very hard since she arrived and her spanish has already improved by leaps and bounds.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The apartment isn’t lush but it isn’t terrible either. Aside from it being dark and cold it’s starting to feel like home. It’s currently ‘winter’ here which means it’s about 55º to 65º during the days and upper 30‘s at night, conditions that don’t warrant having heat in the house since the season only lasts for 2 months, but ones that make showering miserable and my feet very cold. Because of this I’ve caught a cold since my arrival and I’m hoping that’ll go away soon, I’m doing my best to rest up and keep warm. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No one in the house speaks English (well okay, Jenna, Azusa, and I do but we try not to....), I can tell that my comprehension is improving and my spoken spanish a little too. I now comprehend about 90% of the spanish on television, 85% of what Gumer says, however I still find myself getting lost when it comes to communicating with Paco. Jenna and I have taken it upon ourselves to win Paco over during our stay; we’ve already made good progress since we’ve learned to speak up when we talk with him. While he still can be grumpy on occasion, he now cracks jokes around us and we’ve had success in making him smile and laugh, he can be quite the character sometimes. He cooks us lunch on the week days when Gumer is at work, his meals are pretty good but usually include lots of french fries, I’ll be needing to find some salad here soon. </span></span></div>
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<i>If Gumersinda leaves earlier in the morning she sets our our breakfast for us, she even labels our thermos' and this particular morning she left us little chocolates :-)</i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Overall I’m getting settled in, classes are going well and I’m meeting lots of new people. I walk a lot everyday and like to go get lost in the city during my free time, there is something new to be discovered around every corner. I’m looking forward to the warmer days that will come with spring, but for now I’ll be keeping my wool socks on 24/7. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I have finally received the mailing address for my casa and will post it on my facebook, if you would like it just email me and I’ll get it to you, I love writing and receiving letters!</span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-71060260781309083082012-01-24T17:07:00.002-05:002012-01-24T17:12:35.704-05:00Day 2: The best tour guide in the city!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>My tour guide: Sara Caballero!</i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Sara met me at 10am to start out my first full day of Sevilla, she had warned me the previous day that I should wear my walking shoes because we would be doing a lot of that. The first stop of the day was La Plaza de España, one of her favorite places which has now become one of mine. The grandeur of the plaza is beyond anything that I could ever hope to share via photos, it’s something you must experience to truly understand. The Spanish have an incredible knack for detail; each little stone on the ground is laid just so, every painting is intricate, and you can’t walk through a park without realizing the great care that was taken in planting even the smallest of shrubs. It doesn’t matter what time you visit this city, it’s always at it’s best and ready to impress.</span></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">(Top left: Walking through a park on the way to la plaza. Top right: La Plaza de España. </span>Bottom: Me walking through La Plaza de España)</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We walked along some of the parks near the plaza and made our way to la Giralda (the cathedral Santa María), it’s gorgeous and I hope to go in some time next week and climb the tower, I hear the view is worth the hike up the stairs. Sevilla has street performers and vendors everywhere, especially near the center of the city. It’s a great place to snag a deal on a cute scarf or to see some odd performers, I’ll take pictures of some of these guys at some point because they’re fairly ridiculous.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Walking around town, one of the many long streets lined with </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>lots of mopeds and beautiful architecture.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I love the way of life here, it is bustling and alive until the latest of hours, but no one is in a hurry. Sara and I walked as much as we wanted and when we found a place to sit we just chatted and watched people until we felt like leaving. People do things at their leisure, which is a practice that also goes for people who provide services too. If you want a coffee or to refill your phone minutes sometimes you just have to wait until the vendor is done with their conversation. I can appreciate a lifestyle that is as laid back as this, it’s a beautiful trait to find in a city.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Sara took me to one of her favorite tapas restaurant for some lunch, a place called Taberna Coloniales. We shared a plate of queso al Raquefort (it’s like sweet blue cheese with jam on top of toasted bread, SO good!), and I ordered a dish called Solomillo al Whiskey, tenderloin in a whiskey sauce that is heavy on the garlic. It was delicious, as is everything that I’ve had here so far. To make the meal that much more perfect I enjoyed my first glass of tinto de verano (red wine with soda in it), it was much needed refreshment after walking all morning. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>(Top: Las Setas from the ground, not too sure why they're there but the view is amazing so I'm not complaining!. Bottom: Proof of the beautiful view, what a great city!)</i></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Our next stop after lunch was Las Setas (translation: The Mushrooms) or Las Parasols (I’ve heard both names), which is a giant modern structure that offers an amazing panoramic view of the entire city. When you’re walking around the city it doesn’t seem that Sevilla is all that big, but that is a deception that is quite evident when you’re sitting on top of this structure, this city is huge! Right now is the perfect time for visiting all of the tourist spots, it’s not very crowded and it’s still cool enough that walking all day doesn’t leave you sweaty. Sara tells me that by June it’ll be so hot that being on top of las Setas would be impossibly miserable, and that by August you’ll melt with temperatures reaching 120ºF at it’s worst.</span></span><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">The River and el Puente de Triana (the bridge of Triana leading to that neighborhood), </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">it's the oldest in the city and is also known as el Puente Isabel II, but it's usually referred to as the former.</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Walking back to Trevor and Kelsey's with Sara from the river side, I get to walk by </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><i>el Torre de Oro every day! This city is VERY pedestrian and bike friendly.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To wrap up the day we strolled by the river Gualdaquevivir where we sat for a good while enjoying the sun, watching kayakers, and talking. Sara is such a great person, she speaks wonderful english and is very patient with my spanish. She loves this city and, although she’ll say otherwise, she was the best tour guide I could have ever wished for. She’ll be leaving in a month to go to school in Germany so I’m hoping to see her as much as possible before that.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">That night I had dinner with Trevor and Kelsey in the apartment while we waited for some of their friends from the 2 week intensive course to come over. Quite a few people came, about 15 or so, and I finally got to meet my roommate Jenna! We all sat around playing Kings Cup, eating yummy little sandwiches that Kelsey made (she is quite the hostess), and just having a good time. At around midnight most of the group went out to some of the clubs in town but Kelsey and I decided to hang back. Walking all day had worn me out and I was looking forward to sleeping in the next day, plus I would be moving in with my host family and didn’t want to be too exhausted. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>This is Sara, isn't she just precious?! This is during our walk, </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><i>she was such a wonderful tour guide.</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Overall this was one of the most perfect first days that I could have wished for, one that was full of new sights, sounds, food, and friends. I think the world of this city already and the people found within it, I can’t wait to see what other discoveries and adventures are to be had here, I’ll be sure to keep you up to date on them as they come!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">¡Hasta luego!</span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-72418722344862881832012-01-22T07:21:00.001-05:002012-01-22T07:24:03.214-05:00Day 1: 25 Hours of Travel and Some Friendly Faces<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I’m officially in Sevilla and it’s absolutely amazing here! I don’t know if the culture shock just hasn’t hit yet or what, but I already find myself feeling comfortable. My day of travel started Wednesday at 11am, my parents dropped me off in Greensboro and we said our goodbyes, they’ll be visiting in April so I’m going to do my best to prepare the city for their arrival! From there all of my flights were fairly simple, I had a layover in Miami where I first began using my spanish a bit, but walking into the terminal for my flight to Madrid was like stepping into Europe. The terminal was a mix of dozens of languages and people of all nationalities. I sat and had my last phone conversation with Rebecca (my phone is shut off until June), and after that it was a quick wait until I hopped on for my red-eye to Madrid. My layover in Madrid (for 7 hours) wasn’t too bad, I found a (not) nice and (un)comfortable bench to nap on while I waited. </span></span></div>
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<i> Waiting in Greensboro for my first flight....so exciting!</i><br />
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<i>Oh hello Madrid airport! 7 hours here....</i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The flight to Sevilla was quick and easy, I slept the entire way which was definitely necessary, it helped correct the jet lag and I was feeling refreshed when I stepped off the plane. I arrived at 5:30pm on Thursday and went to baggage claim only to find out that my (very large) bag was still in Miami. Luckily, I had packed three days of clothes, toiletries, and my camera in my carry-on so I had no problem with them promising to deliver my luggage to my friends’ apartment the next day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not having that luggage turned out to be for the best since I would be taking the bus and walking to Kelsey and Trevors’ apartment in Nervión. Having someone familiar on the other side of customs was a very comforting feeling which helped me avoid feeling overwhelmed. When the doors opened I was greeted by Sara Caballero, a Sevillano who welcomed me with a big smile and a much needed hug. Sara is a friend that I made while at ASU who was on exchange there last semester. She’s back home for a bit and is currently finishing up her semester at UPO; oh and what a gift she has been to have around! We rode the bus and she walked me to the door of the apartment where I would be staying for my first two days. I would have surely gotten lost if it weren’t for her, especially since we had to walk a bit after we got off the bus; a walk that was difficult enough with a banjo and a loaded backpack, something that would have been near impossible with my luggage. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sara left me to get settled in with Trevor and Kelsey, I’d be seeing her the next day, plus she had exams to study for. Kelsey Fuller is a friend from ASU as well, she hails from Florida and is a sociology major (i think). We had a spanish class together last semester and she worked as a Night Star in my dorm, you can find her blog <a href="http://kelseymclean-abraodabroad.blogspot.com/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">here</span></a>. She was gracious enough to invite me to stay at their apartment for my first few days in Sevilla. Trevor Brown is her boyfriend who attends school at University of Florida, both of them are here for the semester attending UPO (Universidad Pablo de Olavide), they arrived two weeks early for an intensive preparatory spanish course and so they already know their way around. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Surprisingly I wasn’t too exhausted but I was definitely hungry; it was about 6:30pm which in Sevilla is the perfect time for some tapas. Tapas are a quintessential Spanish tradition, it’s the umbrella name to describe a wide variety of small portioned fares. It can be anything from seafood, jamón íberico (SO good), cheese plates, and much, much more. I’ll be talking about these a lot throughout my blog, they are delicious, cheap, and necessary since the meals are so spread out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They showed me to one of their favorite places, La Flamecaría, for delicious fried shrimp and sangría. The tapas bar was close to the center of the city and only a short walk from the apartment so afterwards we went walking to take in the sights and sounds of the city at night. We saw the cathedral and did a quick circle around the neighborhood; it may have been 10 at night but the city was still bustling! Shops were open, people sat in the streets enjoying tapas and tinto, and cars whizzed by. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the way back we stopped at a place for churros and chocolate. Churros are fried bread that you dip in chocolate that is similar to a thick hot chocolate, it’s a late night favorite here. After sitting in the café for a bit we walked back to the apartment and watched a little tv. It wasn’t long before I was ready to head to bed, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I can’t believe I’m here, it’s like I’m in a movie, when I find myself walking the streets I sometimes just have to laugh at how unreal everything is. How can I be this lucky to live in such an unspeakably interesting and amazing place? If you’ve never been abroad it isn’t too late. Go out and see the world because it is amazing and impossible to experience through the word of others. Don’t always trust that map they show you either; the world is so much bigger than that, and dang is the food and drink amazing!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m so lucky to know Sara, Kelsey, and Trevor. Their hospitality is what has made me feel so comfortable in such a short amount of time and for that I will always be grateful, I hope to repay the favor some day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-54869704664667036202012-01-16T13:52:00.000-05:002012-01-16T15:43:55.355-05:00Preparing for Departure<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I’m hoping to make blogging a habit, I’ve never tried to do this before but I suppose that moving to Spain for 6 months is reason enough to begin. Plus I come from a bloodline of well known bloggers (well, okay, maybe just my dad, not a bloodline, but blood for sure). For those of you out of the loop I’ll be spending January 18th til June 13th in Europe on a study abroad through Appalachian State University. I will be going to Universidad Pablo de Olavide in Seville, Spain (see map) as part of a bilateral exchange through my university, and I will be living in an apartment with a host family in a neighborhood called Los Remedios. While there I’ll be taking language, political relations, and culture courses, but most importantly I’ll be living it up in the motherland of the language I love.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>^Seville is in the southwestern corner</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After classes end in May I’ll be embarking (hopefully) with my best friend Rebecca on a 4 week backpacking trip around Europe, if all goes as planned she’ll be flying over to meet me in Spain and from there the fun will begin. Our itinerary is still wide open but we’re looking into visiting Barcelona, some part of Germany, Lille, France where my dear friend/roommate/amazing person Gillie is studying abroad (check out her blog- <a href="http://www.pardonmyfrenchsvp.wordpress.com/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.pardonmyfrenchsvp.wordpress.com</span></a>), Paris, London, Wales, and Scotland. This is a huge list so it may be trimmed down, especially depending on flight/train costs and if we can find places to stay. Anywho....</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>These past few days in Greensboro have been filled with visiting, food, and packing. In just 5 days I’ve ventured to Raleigh, Winston Salem, shared lots of food, and have seen dozens of people whom I hold dear. My going away shindig Friday was wonderful, I have such a solid support system of friends, neighbors, and family here in Greensboro and parties like that help me be reminded of just how lucky I am. There was lots of socializing, sangria, and music, I hope everyone had as much fun as I did! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My flight leaves this Wednesday at 1:30pm out of Greensboro, I’m looking at a 21 hour travel day at the end of which i will have reached my destination by Thursday at 4:50pm (Sevilla time). I’ll no doubt be tired and disoriented, but I’ll be in Spain which means I will have reached the beginning of an adventure that will surely change my life. I still have a little packing to do, people to see, and some of the hardest goodbye’s are yet to come, but for the most part things are wrapped up for me here. As of today all of my stuff fits into a giant suitcase, a backpack, and a banjo case, but the most important parts of my life will be staying here. Six months may not seem all that long, but at the same time it feels like a lifetime, especially since I’m only 20 years old. Things here will change while I’m gone and so will I, I think being aware of that now will help the transition back. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m going to miss so many people while abroad, I hope that this blog will help people keep up with me on my travels, but I also don’t want to lose track of where you all are. If you have free time please email me up an update or write me a letter, I’ll be posting my address soon and I promise to write back! Also feel free to message me any travel suggestions for while I’m there and also if you know of anyone that wouldn’t mind hosting a couple of college students during our month of backpacking. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Here’s to the future, to nights filled with dancing, music, delicious food, sipping sangria, new friends, and lots of adventure. And here’s also to true friendship and love, two ties that cannot be severed or forgotten because of time and distance, but instead will remain with me no matter where I go.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I’ll leave this post with a quote sent to me by my best friend:</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>"The purpose of life is to live it,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>To taste experience to the utmost,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>To reach out eagerly and without fear</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>For newer and richer experience."</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>-Eleanor Roosevelt</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>My going away party, I got to see some great people!</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going to miss this a terrible amount, these are superb people and I'm proud to call them my friends, </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">keep it classy ya'll.</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From left to right: Trevor, Me, Rebecca, Paula, Lou, and Holly</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Photo cred on this one goes to Lou Murrey</span></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com4Greensboro, NC, USA36.0726354 -79.791975435.867292400000004 -80.107832399999992 36.2779784 -79.4761184tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463477822802887740.post-32184632282006083882011-11-21T21:00:00.000-05:002011-11-21T21:00:09.157-05:00It's Officially OfficialI feel it is appropriate that my first post be to announce that I have officially purchased my flight to Sevilla, Spain for January 18th, 2012, I'll be returning June 14th.<br />
That is 147 days of travel outside of the United States, this will mark the longest time period and the furthest that I've ever been away from home.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">147 days:</span><br />
<ul style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-top: 0px;"><li>12,700,800 seconds</li>
<li>211,680 minutes</li>
<li>3528 hours</li>
<li>21 weeks</li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;">Whew.</span></span></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474612487196062553noreply@blogger.com4