Almost A Month: Oh My, How the Time Flies

A WET AND WACKY WEEK
This week was somewhat unusual for a number of reasons. First, I was feeling a bit under the weather with my stomach until about Thursday. But everything is much better now and I am excited to go out for some tapas on Saturday night with some friends from the church. Besides being under the weather, the weather itself changed quite a bit this week. It rained a few days and we have had some clouds over our lovely city. I will not complain, though, because the oppressive afternoon heat has given way to cooler days and a light breeze. Hooray for a change in seasons!

A TRIP TO THE MOVIES AND ALADDIN’S PANTS
I watched “Miran Quién Baila” (the Spanish version of “Dancing With the Stars”) and “La Anatomía de Gray” (Gray’s Anatomy) with Carmen earlier in the week and got a kick out of both programs. I will say, though, that I am rooting for the torero (bullfighter) to win. ¡Qué suave! On Wednesday evening, I went with some of the UD gals to see “Vicky, Christina, Barcelona” at the movie theater in the Neptuno Mall around the corner. It is a Woody Allen film with Penelope Cruz and Scarlett Johansen (and probably someone else who is already famous), set in Barcelona. The movie itself wasn’t incredible and it would never make it into my list of favorites, but it was really neat to see a park, street, building or museum I had been to during my three days in Barcelona. Also, it was a lot of fun trying to comprehend everything that was going on. I am really getting the hang of it!

After the movie, we walked around the mall a bit and went into one clothing store. I must first explain that fashions here in Spain can be unusual at times. The newest look: Aladdin pants. I am not kidding when I say that the pants Aladdin wore in the Disney cartoon do in fact appear daily on the streets of Granada. Apparently it’s the “hippy” look and very popular in Spain to wear baggy pants, where the fabric of the legs is joined somewhere at mid-calf. We all found this very amusing, and decided, “why not get a pair?” I was super shrewd and found a pair that had been sewn inside out. I bargained with the cashier and got a 20% discount on my pair of ridiculous hippy Aladdin pants. I was quite satisfied with myself for finally getting the opportunity to negotiate in a Spanish store. On Saturday morning, I am planning to go to the market with some friends. Hopefully there will be more bargaining there!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA CLAUS AND THE EASTER BUNNY AREN’T REAL?
Set the scene: A cloudy Thursday morning, ten students sitting eagerly in their seats, awaiting the day’s lesson in Spanish grammar. I was excited that we would be learning something besides verbs (especially those in the subjunctive) for the first time, and I whipped out my pretty green pen and notebook, ready to go. The lesson: PRONOUNS. I love pronouns! I loved them when I learned them in English in second grade and I loved them when I first learned them in Spanish as a high school freshman. It was going to be a piece of cake—or flan—or some other sweet treat.

What transpired in the next 90 minutes, however, was a mind-boggling-life-altering encounter with Spanish grammar. Sure, to you it sounds overly dramatic, but for me, it was traumatic. I discovered that throughout my entire Spanish-speaking career, I have been misguided, lied to, mind you, by every Spanish professor who has ever taught me. That’s right—the pronoun rules I learned years ago to refer to people in Spanish are INCORRECT. Surely my AP Spanish teacher knew what she was doing? And my professors at UD? No. It was as though we all learned that there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny for the first time, and we had been betrayed by those teachers we believed in most. I realized I can trust no one, except Monolo, my crazy, middle-aged professor here in Spain, to tell me when my Spanish grammar is wrong.

POLITICS AND CAULIFLOWER
After Monolo dropped the bomb in grammar class on Thursday morning, I knew it was going to be somewhat of a tumultuous day. Later that day during lunch, Carmen and I watched the news as we always do, listening closely in between bites and clarifying whatever I don’t understand. Starting at 14:30h, the first half hour is always the equivalent of an “Access Hollywood” or “Entertainment Tonight.” At 15:00h, the national and world news began. Of course, those of you who follow what is happening at home know about McCain suspending his election to return to Congress during the economic crisis. Personally (and we can agree to disagree if you do not stand in accordance), I think spending billions of dollars on an election and traveling from city to city promoting oneself is a waste of time and money. Voting and debating, on the other hand, to either allow or prevent government intervention in the economy seems like a more productive use of energy. Well, Carmen did not like what I had to say at all. When she suddenly started talking more quickly with her hands, I knew I was in for it. Carmen is very opinionated, and the fact that my Spanish is not quite at her level did not make the playing field any more even. What aggravated me most was that she kept telling me to “talk to my father” who could explain it better, because she understood what the news said and I probably missed something the newscaster said. Well, I HAD spoken with my father that morning and I was QUITE capable of understanding my own country’s politics, lest I be a Political Science major or something crazy like that. After we “discussed” our opinions back and forth in Spanish, I finally understood a common misconception that people outside the U.S. possess. Because of the War in Iraq and Spain’s involvement, Carmen hates President Bush with a passion, and believes that as the American president, he is all powerful. Why else would the world be in this war? She didn’t understand that Bush is also limited in a lot of ways by what Congress dictates, and thus McCain and Obama could in fact have some effect on what decisions are made concerning the economy if they returned to the Senate to discuss the issue. Finally she listened to me, only after I explained American checks and balances, but I was “un poco enfada” from talking politics.

Fortunately, the political news came on the TV after I finished my sweet desert of melon. I was still a bit on the defensive after our casual political chat, and I helped her clear the table after lunch. She then pointed to a bowl of cauliflower sitting on the kitchen counter and said asked if this was okay for dinner. I will admit my stomach was still not feeling quite fabulous, so I told her it might not be the best food for me. In response, she told me to take pills for my stomach and I would be fine. Otherwise, cauliflower is very expensive and I should have told her sooner that I didn’t eat it. I calmly told her I would eat it and it should be fine, but only to appease her. Lesson of the week: never talk politics with someone who can talk faster than you. It just makes for an uncomfortable stomach.

SALSA LESSONS PAID OFF
Well, I must say that the Ballroom Dane class I took last spring definitely is working to my benefit. Last night I went salsa dancing with people from the church and had a marvelous time! Just as the ladies struggle in the U.S with a death of male dancers, the problem also exists here in Spain. Thus, I “led” and taught several of the girls how to follow some basic salsa steps. Someone in the club was also teaching some salsa and merengue steps, so I picked up some of the latter. Hopefully I will have more chances to learn some more over the next few weeks!

SOMEONE KEEPS SINGING (QUITE POORLY INDEED)
There is a saying here in Spain that it rains after someone sings very badly. Over the last three weeks, it has rained several times, not too much, but more than is typical for the region. According to my one Spanish professor, the joke is on one of the UD girls. Apparently the night before every rainy day, one of the ladies croons in a bar or out on the street. Oh well. At least it doesn’t rain as much as it does in Delaware!

GRANADA: MY FIRST WEEKEND HOME
I am looking forward to my first weekend here in Granada without buses, hotels or traveling of any sort. I plan to go shopping, eat tapas and relax with friends. And I might have to do some studying somewhere in between all of that. I hope you all have a marvelous weekend and that everyone is well. I should be online somewhere around YOUR noon until about 2:00PM on Saturday if your want to drop by and chat.

All the best,
Diane

The Bus Went Over The Mountain (To See What It Could See)

FROM THE MOUNTAINS, TO THE VALLEYS, TO THE SEA WHITE WITH SALT
(GOD BLESSED SPAIN, TOO!)
On Friday morning, we left for our weekend excursion to Alpujarra, a region within the province of Granada (we left the city, but remained in the province). Our bus took us up mountains and made twists and turns, not for the faint of heart or those with a fear of heights. The views were magnificent and we stopped in two towns on the way up. The first town, Pampaneira, was one of the settlements of the moors when they were pushed out of Granada in 1492. All of the homes were painted white with chalk to prevent the infiltration of disease causing pests and to keep the house cooler in the summer. No vehicles, except for special tractors, can make it up the small streets, as the hills are too steep. Our next stop was to visit the highest pueblo in Spain, Trevelez. This town is where the ham in Spain is cured. Honestly, every other shop has meat hanging from the ceiling and on every street there were three or four meat factories. Once again, the height of the mountains and the houses on the hill were quite a sight. These mountain towns were also known for their 100 percent wool rugs and for the production of honey. I enjoyed my day up on the hills of Spain, but what goes up must always come down.

We drove down the side of the mountain, saw some valleys along the way, and finally reached Almuñecar, the city along the Mediterranean and our ultimate destination this weekend. Our hotel was right on the water and the weather was perfect. On Saturday morning, Jorge had a walk planned for the group that we could choose to take or not. Six of us girls opted to go while everyone else decided to go the beach. We walked around town learning a little history and taking some photos. As we were walking past the flower and fruit market, Jorge saw that the aquarium was open. Having never been there himself, he decided to take us inside! The others who picked the beach over the walk missed out! I do have to say, the most amusing part of the aquarium was watching Jorge poke star fish and sea tomatoes in their tanks even though there were sighs that clearly said “no toque,” or “don’t touch.” Rules apply differently for Jorge, I suppose. After that morning stroll, we went to the beach and spent the afternoon.

On Sunday, we packed our bags and started our journey home. But before going back to the city of Granada, we made one stop in Nerja, where we saw la Cueva de Nerja, or the Cave of Nerja. Thousands of years of dripping minerals and settling rocks made for quite a visit. I tried to take pictures, but we were prohibited from using flash photography; thus, some of my pictures on the no-flash setting are a bit blurry. We hopped back on the bus and arrived home by 13:30.

A WEEKEND WRAP-UP
The aforementioned account of the weekend merely mentions our itinerary. However, the weekend wasn’t all sunshine and buttercups. For the first time since I have been in Spain, I felt like I didn’t want to be where I was. I told myself at the beginning of the trip that I would never have time for homesickness or anything of the sort, that I know how to manage myself quite well in Spain because I love an adventure and I know the language. Still, pride comes before the fall. Beginning on Friday night, I felt like an “extranjero” not because I was in Spain, but because I was with Americans. I know that sounds funny, but I shall explain. I feel like an outsider more among “my own” than I do among the Spaniards mainly because my definition of a good time does not always coincide with that of the larger group. For me, pre-gaming has absolutely no appeal, neither does staying out until all hours of the night bar-hopping. I was at the point where I either wanted to be with my friends and family back home or with some Spanish-speakers, with whom I could at least practice my Spanish (which I still think is a pretty good reason to be studying in Spain). My eyes were wet when I went to bed because I was tired and frustrated; but I suppose a good cry had to happen sooner or later.

Now, please, don’t be feeling bad or anything or in any way think I am not enjoying my time in Spain. I think part of my irritability this weekend had to do with the fact that I had a stomach bug with a touch of a fever. From the end of last week until this morning, I wasn’t feeling very well at all, and on Saturday night, I finally couldn’t keep anything in my belly. When you feel lousy, it isn’t hard to want to be back at home, where your mom knows what to feed you and just how to take care of you. It’s funny—even though Carmen is my host “mom,” I never really considered that I would ever need to go to her when I felt sick, which I had to do after returning home yesterday. She insisted that I drink Manzanilla, essentially a tea similar to chamomile, to calm my stomach. Once again, I am getting my dose of humility! The silver lining: I wasn’t obliged to go with anyone anywhere on Saturday night and I got to sleep. I also slept quite a bit after returning from the weekend excursion.

One thing I never mentioned before is that I have been reading a Psalm each day, first in my English Bible and then in my Spanish Biblia. On Saturday when I felt the worst, I was reading Psalm 16.

“Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.”
Psalm 16:5-8

“Tú, Señor eres mi todo; tú me colmas de bendiciones; mi vida está en tus manos. Primoroso lugar me ha tocado en suerte; ¡hermosa es la herencia que me ha correspondido! Bendeciré al Señor, porque él me guía, y en lo intimo de mi ser me corrige por las noches. Siempre tengo presente al Señor; con él a mi derecha, nada me hará caer.”
Salmo 16:5-8

No matter how sick or uncomfortable with my surroundings, as I felt this weekend or may feel in the days to come, I know am exactly where I am supposed to be. Through all of this, God has a larger plan and a lesson for me; despite my discomfort, I have in fact been blessed. And, while I may not be “home” where I feel most comfortable, I have Someone with me who is the same in America and in Spain, and who will never leave me. That is pretty awesome, I must say!

“BLANCANIEVES Y LOS SIETE ENANITOS” y ORGULLO Y PREJUICIA
You will probably never guess how spent my Sunday evening. Carmen was not at home, so I decided to pass the time watching an old Disney classic—Snow White and the Seven Dwarves! Carmen has several cartoons and other children’s movies on VHS that her grandsons must have watched years ago. All I can say is that it was one of those natural thrills in life! First, I got to watch a Disney movie; second, everyone was whistling and singing while they worked en Español! The joy I felt was second only to a purchase I made last Thursday at Granada bookstore. I decided that in order to improve my Spanish comprehension, I would buy my favorite book of all time, of which I am very well versed—Pride and Prejudice! I think the lady in the bookstore must have thought I was crazy because I was so excited when she told me they carried the book. The UD ladies with whom I was shopping at first didn’t understand the thrill of it all, but those of you who know me well need no explanation. In reality, the little things in life make me most happy! Seriously, what can be better than watching seven little Spanish dwarves or reading about the greatest English romance entirely in Spanish? ¡Nada!

ES LA HORA DE SALIR
I must say, it is getting harder and harder to write this blog in English. There are definitely times when I cannot remember a word in English and I just want to write what I am thinking. Now if I were to do that, this would be an interesting Spanglish account of my adventures. So, I will stick to English for now and hopefully I will be able to keep my languages straight. I hope you all have a fabulous week and that you enjoy the first day of fall! Believe it or not, today has been nice day with a cool breeze; I suppose this is to make it easier for me to cope with the fact that I won’t be experiencing an American autumn anytime soon. Well, it is now time for me to stop stalling and to do some homework.

All my love,
Diane

La segunda semana, casi completada

THE “BEAUTIFUL SEA” AND A GRANADA IN GRANADA
With a second weekend down and another week of classes almost at an end, I have finally settled into somewhat of a schedule with classes, meals, Internet access and exploration of the city. It is so much easier to stay awake when I keep moving. I once again find the beauty of the15-minute power nap (which I adopted back in high school) even though siesta is two hours long here. Honestly, it is impossible to sleep after such a large lunch and of course, it is the best time of day to learn the crazy Spanish conjugations and conditional phrases I am assigned for homework. Why can’t Spanish teachers in the U.S. and professors here call verb tenses the same thing? Beats me! Still, I am learning despite the fact that Spanish grammar has been making my head spin this week!

I met Carmen’s grandsons last week over lunch. The older grandson (I believe his name is Pablo) was an art history major at the University of Granada who spent the last year studying in Florence. The other grandson is nine and prefers television to eating. Carmen picked up the spoon and put it in his mouth while his eyes were glued to the TV screen. She then threatened to turn off the “Simpsons” since he wouldn’t eat his bowl of a thick, white stew; he finally obeyed and lunch went on as usual. I did enjoy speaking to the older grandson because he spoke more slowly and clearly than Carmen. He probably knew what it was like to be constantly bombarded with a thick and quick accent after having studied abroad himself. When he visited again this Tuesday evening to take Carmen to a birthday party, we chatted for quite a bit while I ate my dinner.

Tonight (Wednesday), I finished working on a project due Thursday in my Spanish culture class. My partner and I are presenting one of the autonomous communities of Spain to the class. I spent a few hours on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in the library reading about Castilla-La Mancha, the land made famous by Cervantes and his beloved Don Quixote. There is quite a bit more to the region than windmills and the green plains known as “La Mancha.” For example, the region is famous for its cuisine, which is why we decided to buy “queso manchego” for the class to try during our presentation. Fortunately, we will be the first group to present and therefore will not have the project hanging over our heads for the rest of the first session.

Beyond classes, I have had the opportunity to walk around Granada with my friend Heather from sunny California who I met at the church. We spent an afternoon last week climbing hills and spotting incredible views of the city. We plan to take another walk soon; she will bring a canvas and pains while I will be less creative and bring my camera. Either way, we hope to capture the beauty of the landscape and architecture.

On Sunday, I took a crew of UD ladies on a trek to the Alhambra and up another hill to this spot we found last week. I realized as I was leading them that the route was a lot longer than I remembered, probably because Heather and I were chatting so much to pass the time. Nevertheless, when led the group up the cobblestone sidewalks, we came across the courtyard of a museum with a pomegranate tree. The Spanish word for pomegranate is “granada.” That’s right: the city was named after the fruit! We pulled two very small pomegranates from the tree and were finally able to say we ate a granada in Granada.

A BUS, A BEACH AND A BUSY WEEKEND
Last weekend, I did in fact make it to Marbella, a lovely beach city about three hours away from Granada. All fifteen of the UD crew took a bus Friday afternoon and arrived around 21:00 in the evening. We stayed in a pension (I believe it was one step up from a hostel) where we were fortunately able to lock our doors. Everyone went out together for a nice dinner and then returned to their rooms to get ready for an “exciting” evening. The guys led the group to an area by the port where all the night life was supposed to be located. There were plenty of places to go, but the average age of the population, comprised mostly of wealthy British and Australian tourists, was somewhere in the mid-forties to fifties. If that was not awkward enough, everyone’s definition of a “good time” was very different. All I will say is that I prefer to remember my evenings when I awake the next day. The other gals I was with generally felt the same way. I enjoyed my Coca-Cola and a little bit of dancing before I was all tuckered out.

The next morning—to make it easier for the folks who had a really, really “fun” time the night before—six of us girls walked to the bus station to buy the group’s tickets fro the trip home. We stopped in a lovely bread and pastry shop for breakfast and then headed to the beach! I must say, Marbella far surpasses Málaga in cleanliness and beauty. Some of the ladies, however, still managed to “forget” half of their swimwear. Spain appears to us Americans to be a very open country (case in point); however, out stereotypes of Spanish people and what I describe here is the direct result of the oppression under Franco until his death in 1975. Spain has gone from one extreme, where women had to wear dresses up to their necks, to the complete opposite, where one can go to any beach and see a lot more than a female’s neck! Oh, how human beings are creatures of extremes!

We returned safely on Saturday evening and about twelve of us decided to check out Granada’s annual rock concert located at the sports stadium. It was a long walk after such a busy day, but I got my second wind of energy just as we arrived and discovered the bands were between sets (a.k.a. no music was playing) and everyone else in the group was tired and ready to go. We walked (or dragged our heels) part of the way back before we hailed a taxi. I asked the taxi driver to call another driver so that all of us could get home. I tell you, speaking Spanish in Spain really is pretty convenient for negotiating rides! Pardon me for being facetious, but finally others have realized that if we speak to one another in English, the taxi drivers will rip us off (as one driver did in Marbella). Go figure!

The next morning, I went to church a little before 11:00 and didn’t return home until around 16:00. Some ladies made a marvelous lunch for the international students and I had the opportunity to speak with some of the students (in Spanish, of course) and with some of the members of the church. One young woman named April, who I originally thought was a Spaniard, is actually from California. She studied abroad here a few years ago and decided to return to Granada and teach English. I am amazed at how beautiful her Spanish is, and I can only hope to obtain the same level of proficiency. There are still three months yet, so I just need to be patient!

BACK TO THE BEACH AND AN ECOLOGICAL EXPEDITION
On Friday we do not have classes because Jorge is taking us all to the mountainous and coastal regions of Granada for a weekend excursion! From my understanding, we will be hiking and exploring on Friday and going to the beach on Saturday, all part of an ecological adventure. I will have my camera ready and a water bottle in hand for this exciting trip. Pictures will be posted early next week as soon as I am able.

AL FINAL
I just finished dinner (as always, delicious and very filling). The quantities are a bit more reasonable than they were before. I told Carmen on Monday how much I love everything she cooks—I used “me encanta mucho” to express that I do in fact enjoy her cooking—but that the portions are far too much for me. She told me not to worry, to take just what I wanted! Here, I thought I was being rude if I didn’t just eat everything she gave me! I can finally say that I don’t walk away from the table feeling like I want to double over. Still, I am developing what I like to call a “bread belly” from all the delicious bread, potatoes and rice I get at every meal. No wonder people in Spain are so happy and relaxed—they are so well fed!

Yes, the Spanish are so much more relaxed here. I MUST learn to walk more slowly and never again use my cell phone on the street. Basically that just screams “Hey, check me out—I’m American!” Although my one Spanish professor said I could pass for a Spaniard (thank you Cipriani Roman-nose and Stutzman olive-skin), I would prefer that my pace and actions follow suite as well.

I have found over the last few days that it seems people speak more slowly here than they did a week ago. To be honest, I doubt they have actually altered the speed of their tongues, but I believe I am finally getting the hang of what is said on the television, in the streets, and even in this very house! Carmen and I have had some really great conversations about religion, politics and money (all the things you’re not supposed to talk about). It is really quite fun to chatter away. I just need to be sure my ears are always as open as my mouth is.

Well, that is all for now—a whole week in review. If you want to hear more from me more often, drop me an e-mail. That is one means of communication that does not depend on time zones! I miss you all and hope that everyone is safe, happy and well-fed. If not, I could help you out a bit…

Love, the ever verbose Spanish student,
Diana

Home Is Where You Eat, Sleep and Watch Telenovelas

One week down and another fourteen to go! I can hardly believe I have been across the great Atlantic and in the land of bulls and castanets for eight days. I believe I am finally caught up on sleep and I am fueled, ready to go wherever the rest of the semester takes me. Honestly, I do not even know what I am doing this weekend, but I have heard the word “beach” thrown around by several people, so we will see if I will be lucky enough to get some sand in my shoes in a few days.

GRANADA 101
Granada is a beautiful city and is considered the cultural capital of Andalucía, one of the 17 autonomous communities in Spain. It was the last city to be reconquered by “los Reys Católicos” (the Catholic King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel) in 1492, the same year Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Granada is famous for La Alhambra, a Muslim palace with impressive gardens, intricate architecture and interesting culture. I saw it once two years ago, but I can hardly wait to see it again this semester with my art history class and also (possibly) with the Centro de Lenguas Modernas (my campus at the Universidad de Granada). Granada is a university city with five different campuses serving nearly 100,000 students from all around the city, country and even the world. Classes at the main campus do not begin until October, so things are still relatively slow and will pick up in the next three weeks. The city has no industry except for the university, so it is home to many banks, bars and shops targeting the college community. In addition, Granada showcases the Sierra Nevada Mountains on the horizon. It seems as though I am in a pretty perfect place to study and also soak up the culture surrounding southern Spain. It is quite different from Barcelona, a fast-paced “European” city. Granada, according to one of my professors, is more of an African city in its style and customs.

AM I STILL IN DELAWARE?
No matter where you go or what you see, I realize that we do live in a small world, just with a lot of time zones. Language, attire and customs are different here, of course, but essentially life goes on the same for folks here as it does in the United States. Over the last few days, I saw this over and over again.

For starters, it rained Wednesday morning in Granada. It NEVER rains, or should I say rarely, and unfortunately not often enough for the people who live here. I felt like I was back in Newark jumping puddles just without my blue-flowered rain boots. Furthermore, the slippery red-brick sidewalks at UD are comparable to the tile and slate sidewalks that make a rainy day a bit of a risk factor. Fortunately for me, Carmen told me to go back to my room and change my shoes from flip-flops to sneakers. I listened to my mom and the result was better traction!

Walking in the area around the Centro de Lenguas Modernas, I have run into quite a bit of construction. Here I thought I was safe from the renovations surrounding the Harrington Beach (or Turf) area and the construction on every other area of the UD campus. Ha! I think scaffolding and dusty pot holes follow me wherever I go, and I have to take a detour to school to avoid hopping the fence put up by the construction workers.

In addition, I think I hear just as much English as I do Spanish. We have not yet transitioned into 100 percent “Spanish” mode, but hopefully we will get there VERY soon. I want to practice so badly, but it is hard when we go to class, speak to the teacher in Spanish and then walk right out the door speaking once again as Americans do. We shall see, but I am eager for this change to occur sooner rather than later.
On Tuesday evening, I was watching the news (before setting down to watch other night-time dramas with Carmen), and I found it quite interesting that parents here were complaining that the backpacks their children carry are overloaded with school books. This is the SAME exact argument I constantly heard (and experienced) in elementary school and high school. Obviously spinal health is a transnational issue (or at least parents have the same concerns and desires for their children’s safety).

I also went to a group prayer meeting on Wednesday evening at the church. We sang, prayed and heard a short message from the pastor. While the world may change around me, there is one thing I know for sure: my God is constant and unchanging. His people everywhere have the same prayers of thanksgiving and suffering, and the same desire to serve Him. How awesome is that!

LESSONS FROM “LA PRIMERA SEMANA”
1. Waterproof watches are remarkable timekeeping devices. After one day in Barcelona, my watch from home died because water crept into the face of the watch after I washed my hands one too many times. I invested in a cheap watch for 8€ which met the same fate in even less time. That was two watches in three days! After I settled in Granada, I went to “El Corte Inglés,” the store that has everything from shampoo and eggs to Tommy Hilfiger clothing and purses. They also carry watches, believe it or not, and I asked the clerk to help me find something cheap or waterproof. She responded that she had something both cheap AND waterproof! Well, I bought a relatively inexpensive SWATCH watch with a one year guarantee. So, I will be coming home with a working watch.

2. Everything hangs on the line to dry. You worry about someone seeing your laundry and taking it out of the washer before you get to it when you do your wash at school, but how about putting it outside in the courtyard for all the neighbors to see? It is really not as bad as it sounds, and I am all for conserving the electricity that the dryer would use. However, it was a bit of a surprise when I pulled open my curtain last night and saw my jeans, shirts and other “undergarments.” Talk about a room with a view!

3. Never say no to more bread. I love bread, I really do, but eating about a half a loaf a day is a bit much for me. Carmen cuts three large slices of bread for me at every meal and it is quite filling. I was full after the lunch she fed me on Monday and didn’t even touch the bread basket. Nope. She insisted, even after I said it was “sufficiente.” Ergo, I take just one slice now at each sitting in order to avoid a forced feeding.

4. Don’t try walking around during siesta. I thought that I would pass the time after lunch on Tuesday by walking around el Parque de Frederico García Lorca. The park is beautiful, with various paths surrounding roses, trees and benches. The problem with siesta time is that it is very hot outside. Really, there is not much to do except read, nap, watch TV or do homework (when there is actually homework to do) between the hours of 13:00 and 17:00. Passing the time on a walk might get better in October when the weather cools down a bit, but for now, I plan to take it easy.

¡QUÉ SERÁ, SERÁ!
The first time I heard this phrase, I was listening to Doris Day sing in Alfred Hitchcock’s mystery thriller “The Man Who Knew Too Much.” But “qué sera, será” is exactly how I feel about this semester—“what will be, will be.” My schedule is pretty open and I can decide from day to day what I intend to do. Some people in my group have found the free time boring and wish they had a roommate. I have truly enjoyed finding things to do to occupy myself. I enjoy talking to Carmen and asking her random questions about politics, music and whether or not it is better to say “papa” or “patata.” I have also taken to watching “la tele” with Carmen to improve my comprehension. I can’t say I have gotten very far yet, but I imaging after seeing and listening to a few more Spanish soap operas, I will have a much better grasp on the different accents and colloquialisms. On Wednesday, I also went to the library at school and took out “Leyendas” by Gustavo Aldolfo Béquer. I read some of his work in my Spanish literature class last semester, so I am looking forward to sitting down with a good book (and a dictionary) and passing the time.

The next four weeks of classes before my fall break, will probably pass by rather quickly. My SPAN 406 (grammar) and SPAN 308 (culture) classes are very basic and I do not think I will have any problems. I will do my work, attend class and try to work at improving my Spanish and seeing all that I can see in the off hours. It all just takes initiative, and I am really trying to take it all in. I plan to look into Flamenco lessons (dancing and possibly guitar for beginners). It may all sound very ambitious, but it is always better to aim high and see where that takes you, right?

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. I have enjoyed hearing from some of you, on Skype, G-Mail chat, AIM, Facebook, and of course, comments left on the BLOG. I have free internet access every day between your 4:30 AM and 6:15 AM if you are ever awake! Otherwise, I can plan to go to the cybercafé if you tell me ahead of time when you are free.

Until next time, I remain yours truly,
Diana

Planes, Plans and Just Plain Perfect!

GETTING TO GRANADA (WITH CUBAN CIGARS AND A STOP AT THE BEACH)

Some people don’t like surprises. They get nervous when plans change or when the natural order of life is disturbed. Now, when I had to repack my bags before flying out of JFK, I was not a happy camper and fit somewhat into this category. However, I think the Spanish way of life is starting to calm down this five-foot-whirlwind-walker-pre-planner, and all for the better! It is a wonder how even the best-laid plans can float away with even a small breeze. Our breeze was not even a strong wind. What we experienced was a typhoon that changed every step during our trek to Granada.

First, the bus that picked us up from the hotel to take us to the airport was not nearly large enough for the luggage of 15 overloaded international travelers and one resident program director carrying a single suitcase and a tough-as-nails attitude. Jorge told me that he has been overseeing UD students for 20 years, and it is sure a good thing that he knows what he is doing. He was fit to be tied at this first glitch on our journey. We did fit on the bus, but we had to bring some of our bags on the seats with us (I was fortunate enough to sit in the shot-gun seat next to the driver). What a way to the airport!

Upon arriving at the airport, we checked our luggage and looked for our departure gate. The funny thing was that there was no such flight to Madrid from Barcelona like our boarding passes and tickets indicated. That’s right, our flight was headed to a much further destination—Havana. Of course, our plane had a connecting flight in Madrid, New York and Washington, D.C. before Cuba, but Jorge was extremely irritated that we could not fly directly from Barcelona to Granada. Furthermore, the plane took off over a half and hour later than the departure time. We were cutting it rather close.

Our plane landed in Madrid (unfortunately, I never got to meet Fidel Castro or Desi Arnez in Cuba like I had hoped), but the flight attendant directed half the group to the right and the other half straight ahead. I went straight with Jorge, but being with the man in charge made no difference. We all had to trek to the complete opposite side of the Madrid airport to terminal HJK (approximately 26 minutes from where we landed). Here’s where things started unraveling: we were split up into the two groups, security made several of us go through the checkpoint a second time because our computers were not in separate bin from our other items (no other airport during our entire trip required this), and we had to hustle up and down escalators, through long hallways and onto airport trains to make our flight. Then, somewhere about a hundred feet in front of us, like the first glimpse of a pool of water in a desert, we saw Gate K55 (one of the last in the ENTIRE terminal)! The water, glistening on the horizon, however, turned out to be a mirage. Despite the fact that our plane was sitting outside the gate and all 16 of us were standing there, we were not permitted to board because we had missed the last boarding call.

We missed the last flight from Madrid to Granada on Saturday, and I heard quite a slew of strong words from everyone around me. I think everyone had reached boiling point after all the issues surrounding the pre-trip and the current conditions: miscommunications with UD staff about our visas this summer, the sight of our plane still sitting at the gate, and the refusal of Iberia from letting us board even though it was their previous flight from Barcelona that was late and made it impossible for us to make the flight out of Madrid. People were hungry and worried about their luggage and whether or not it would arrive when and where we needed it.
Somehow, I was not at all bothered by our change of plans. Sure, it would have been nice to head straight to Granada, but I believe the peace of God was with me in that airport. I could have been upset that I forgot to pack a change of clothes in my carry-on bag. I might have been upset that the woman in the Barcelona airport never gave me my luggage receipts/tags when I checked my bags and my entire luggage could have been lost. I could have even complained that I was hungry, since I ate a very early breakfast. One of the guys in our group called me an optimist. Honestly, I needed to be calm amidst the sea of frustrated folks around me. And that, I must say, was the God’s hand at work.

Ultimately, Jorge, who was angered by the incompetence of UD and Iberia personnel alike, managed to get us on a flight to Málaga, where we then took a bus to Granada. That is how I made it once again to the Mediterranean, to the city where I lived and studied two years ago. For the first time during all my travels, I was assigned a window seat on the plane (hooray for breathtaking views)! Additionally, taking a bus provided the opportunity for me to take pictures en route. Plans may change, but I believe that plans made by human hands are prone to err. The plans made higher up are those so perfectly made!

UN BESO SANTO
I met Carmen, my host mother around 22:00 on Saturday evening. She welcomed me into her beautiful apartment where her first order of business was to feed me. A Spanish tortilla and a salad was enough to do the trick, and I must say that she is an excellent cook! I am certain that I will never go hungry in Granada. I have my own bedroom and bathroom since I am the only student staying with her this semester. It was so nice to finally unpack everything and have some space to call my own (besides two square suitcases zipped to the max). Indeed, I cannot help but smile—I do feel welcome and at home.

Carmen is probably in her mid-sixties and she loves to watch the television. From the news, to entertainment gossip channels and American dramas like NUMB3RS and JAG (dubbed in Spanish, of course), this woman is a character! I enjoy speaking with her, although because I speak well, she is under the impression that I can comprehend just as much as I talk. The rate at which the words come from her mouth can be overwhelming at times. She assured me, however, that after a week, I should be just fine.

The apartment is one block away from the cibercafé, one block from El Parque de Frederico García Lorca, a fifteen-minute walk from El Centro de Lenguas Modernas (where I will study this semester), and two blocks away from La Iglesia Evangélica (the church). Another UD student lives in the apartment building and most of my other friends live on neighboring streets. I am amazed at how perfectly everything came together.

On Sunday morning, I attended the church and I can finally say that I understand the command from 1 Peter—to greet one another with a “holy kiss.” I was welcomed into the church by more people than I can remember their names. In addition, there were more than a dozen international students there who I met today and hopefully will continue to get to know this semester. Imagine an InterVarsity large group, but spoken (and sung) entirely in Spanish and with even more enthusiasm!

I returned from church, ate an enormous lunch and went on a walk around the city with Lauren, the other student in my building. We took the long way around town and walked all the way to La Alhambra and La Alcazaba. We returned about two and a half hours later, exhausted, but glad to have seen the city. I climbed the five flights of stairs up to my apartment, had tea and cookies with my host mother, and took a quick nap before dinner.

This is by far the longest not I have written of my travels. There will be fewer unnecessary details later on, as soon as I am in a routine and have less to describe. Before I close, though, I just want to say how blessed I have been. I had a wonderful roommate in Barcelona, I made it safely to Granada, and my accommodations here are beyond what I could have imagined. God is very good and I am content.

Your happy traveler,
Diana (my name in España)

“Confia de todo corazón en el Señor y no en ti propia inteligencia. Ten presente al Señor en todo lo que hagas, y él te llevará por el camino recto.”
Proverbios 3:5-6

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Proverbs 3:5-6

Barcelona: Capital of Catalunya, Host of the 1992 Summer Olympics, and “Home” for the First Few Days in Spain

HERE WE GO, INTO THE WILD BLUE YONDER
On Tuesday at 13:30 (9:30 AM for all the folks in the U.S. EST time zone), our group arrived in the airport of Barcelona! We were met by Jorge, our resident director for the program and loaded out luggage onto the bus. Now before I proceed, I must make one important note in reference to my last posting. I tried my hardest to pack everything into one suitcase before I left home, but upon checking my bag at JFK, I learned that my suitcase was so far over, that I had to go off to the side and transfer some of my belongings into my carry-on bag and then check both suitcases. I was so overwhelmed by my foolishness and I was mortified as I threw things from one bag to the other right between the check-in desk and the security gate. Ultimately, I sent some books and shoes home with the mom who drove me to the airport. It was not the most enjoyable experience nor am I proud that I was “so well prepared,” but it was followed by a rushed but successful trip through the security checkpoint.

OVERCOMING THE LAG OF THE JET
We all pulled our luggage into the hotel and prepared to eat lunch. My roommate Rebecca and I, along with the four guys on the trip, walked around the major streets near the hotel and strolled down Las Ramblas, a long and entertaining road. Geared for tourists, there were vendors, restaurants, and most exciting of all, people dressed up as elaborate statues, complete with face paint, props and costumes. In the early evening, Jorge took the whole group down Las Ramblas until we arrived at the waterfront. There, we rode an elevator to the top of the 40m statue of Christopher Columbus and saw an amazing view of the city. Jorge bought us café to give us a bit of a boost and then he showed us how to take the Metro around the city. We returned to the hotel and a few hours later at 22:30, we went out to dinner (translation: 10:30 PM—my kind of meal time)!

WHAT IS ART?
Over the last two days, the group walked through town, rode on a tour bus through various parts of the city (with a headset giving a guided tour in 10 different languages) and visited several cultural destinations. On Thursday, we saw the Museu D’Història de Barcelona (History Museum of Barcelona), the Cathedral Gotica, and the Museu Picasso. On Friday, we boarded the tour bus and headed toward the Museu Nacional D’Art de Catalunya (National Art Museum of Catalunya) and the Museu Miró (Joan Miró Museum). We hopped back on the bus after more café and agua (water) from the museum shop and saw the waterfront, various statues and sculptures of the “modern” sort, and the Olympic Village from the 1992 Summer Olympic Games (finally I made it to an Olympic city)! In all of this though, I struggled with the various perceptions of art, from Picasso’s shift through impressionism to cubism and Miró’s passionate depiction of a black line across a 20-foot white canvas. Indeed, I was puzzled until I saw Sagrada Familia, the cathedral designed by Antonio Gaudí, with its height, intricate curves, swirls and sculptures. Following that architectural marvel was the Park Güell, also designed by Gaudí. I cannot express how extraordinary the brightly colored mosaics, columns and stone sculptures appeared against the park’s gardens. Indeed, I am satisfied with Barcelona’s cultural presentation in all its forms.


THE “NEAT, NEW, AND NOT SO NIFTY” OF SPAIN
The Neat
1. Think you can parallel park in the city? Try putting your SUV into one of the many Vespa spaces lining the streets. Not only do Spanish commuters drive smaller automobiles and motorcycles, but Barcelona has bicycle lanes right down the middle of every street for those oh so fuel-efficient two-wheelers.
2. Tapas and paella are phenomenal! The finger food or small dishes known as tapas provide a meal with multiple options. Paella, the famous Spanish rice dish, is filling and is also available in various varieties (seafood, chicken, you name it, they make it!)
3. There is very little traffic at 9 AM on the city streets. Surprisingly enough, the morning commute is not as crazy as it is in America. I personally attribute this to the fact that in Spain, everyone is a bit more relaxed and probably don’t rush to work at the crack of dawn.
The New
1. The architecture in northern Spain is breathtaking. Barcelona was primarily influenced by the Roman Empire up through the conquest by the Arabs around the 8th century. Finally everything I learned in Art History comes to life!
2. In Barcelona, they have two types of Spanish: Castilian (what we learn in Spanish class) and Catelán, which is influenced by France from the north.
The Not-So-Nifty
1. Spaniards in large cities like Barcelona assume that if you are American, you cannot speak Spanish. Thus, our Spanish-speaking is limited while in restaurants and other public arenas (translation: EVERYWHERE). Also, we don’t very often speak Spanish together in our group, except for talking to our tour guide and Jorge. This has me a little bummed out as I would love to practice more and it would be fun to really perfect the language while I am here! Several of us ladies have decided that once we are in Granada and everyone feels more comfortable with their host families, we will make sure that our conversation is entirely of the “Spanish” sort.
2. Garbage anywhere on any street smells like fish. I suppose that’s what you get when you are in a city with a port!
3. The Spanish like to smoke a great deal, and it is pretty much guaranteed that anywhere there are people, an ash tray is sure to be found.

OFF TO GRANADA
Tomorrow, we leave the hotel for Granada, where I will finally meet my host mother. I do not know what Internet access will be like once I arrive in my new home, so I will leave you all guessing about my next adventure. My apologies now for being so verbose in my updates, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you signed onto this blog. You are all in my thoughts and prayers as you start new jobs, take classes and enjoy being home, close to family and friends.

Hasta pronto,
Diane

Destination: Barcelona (via JFK and a Slew of Safety Regulations)

TUESDAY, September 2, 2008

For friends, family and former roommates or floormates, my desire to be prepared for ANY situation has been a source of great amusement. At school, I have supplied orange thread, a hammer, picnic blankets, cooking oil, and both real and artificial sweeteners all in the name of "What If Someone Needs It?" Well, the joke is now on me.

I made such a major effort to cut down on what I planned to take to Spain (believe it or not). I soon discovered my suitcase was a bit overweight (on the scale) and it was having trouble zipping up. I sat on it, stood on it, all to no avail. I nearly grabbed my two puppies to stick on top, but I just knew it was useless; they would be knocked off the top of a very buoyant piece of luggage. On Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights, I packed and unpacked this bag, trying so hard to make it fit. But even when I managed to shove everything in, it was over the 23kg weight limit (approx. 50.706 lb). Three time's the charm, right?

Essentially, my big red suitcase needed to go on a diet. Cutting calories would have been easy; deciding what to leave home--not so much. Out of necessity, I cut down my supply (and it was painful for someone like me) and switched suitcases, although I think overage charges will ultimately apply. I will still have the necessary bandaids as well as the needle and thread, but some of the all-occasion attire needed to go. I concluded that God must be trying to teach me that I really can't be prepared for everything and anything. In everything, He provides what I need when I need it, and just maybe He's asking me to trust Him a little more with the "what-if's."

So, beyond the luggage comes the actual traveling! I will be driving up with someone from my group to Manalapan, NJ where we will meet a third person. Her parents will then proceed to drive us to JFK, probably through rush hour traffic. The flight takes off at 9pm (EST) on the 2nd, and I am expected to arrive in Barcelona at 1:10pm (MAD) on the 3rd. I will spend three days in Barcelona getting over my jet lag and seeing the city, then I will be heading to Granada (with a brief layover in Madrid) on the 6th.

With all that said, and with my bags finally packed, I am ready to depart. The next time anyone hears from me, I will be across the Atlantic! Please keep the fifteen of us UD travelers leaving today in your prayers, that we make it onto the plane and arrive safe and sound.

Signing off,
Diane