Hasta Pronto, Sevilla

Almost four months after arriving in Sevilla, I can name the specific peak of my cultural Spanish experience: the weekend that my host family took me to the beach. My family has a small home surrounded by the ocean in a town near Huelva, a couple of hours from Sevilla. 20 minutes into the drive, one brother was carsick, another had lice, and the third had come down with laryngitis. My nuclear family is a bit hectic, so I felt right at home. We all spent the weekend playing and fighting and eating more kinds of seafood than I knew existed (think four kinds of mollusks, five kinds of shellfish, and three kinds of fish at one lunch, followed by entirely different varieties at the next meal, and repeated over a period of 48 hours. There was not a vegetable - or even jamón - in sight) while spending time in very close quarters in their gorgeous seaside apartment. The weekend at the beach felt utterly Spanish and familial and left me feeling like I'd somehow figured out a piece of Spanish culture.

I left Sevilla this past week, in a bit of disbelief at leaving another city where I've found a home. I was much relieved to be over and done with final exams (recall that finals were challenging, to say the least,) and to just enjoy my remaining days in Spain. Everything Christmas was happening; 90 first graders stopped by my house on their nativity tour to see the table-sized nativity in the playroom (my host mom is a strong woman). 

How on earth can I summarize an entire semester of new experiences in one final blog post? I'll leave this post short and sweet, unable to capture everything I feel in regards to this time; it was a cool four months of experiences, moments, language, and reflection. In the midst of learning to use Spanish in an academic context, traveling to many cities, befriending a professional soccer player, eating my way through Europe, and finding and exploring a home in Sevilla, I learned about my own values and priorities. I return to Carleton College extremely excited and ready to surround myself with friends and studies (and sub-zero weather). I am filled up with gratitude for the people, places, and opportunities of this semester. And I'm especially thankful for my host family. I don't doubt that I'll be back.

We forgot to take a family photo until 11pm; Ale was asleep

Last week I said long goodbyes to my friends, both Spanish and American, and my host family threw a lovely departure dinner for me and my nuclear family (who came to visit at the end of my program). What a treat to be able to share beautiful Sevilla with my family. The next morning my family loaded up our rental car with olives, sweets, salmorejo, and Spanish tortillas, and hit the road for Portugal. 

Found a Rhythm

The reason that I decided to study abroad in the first place was because I wanted to try to create a student life for myself in another country. And here I am now, after more than three months in Sevilla, realizing that I've developed my own rhythm despite the crazy schedule.

I wake up usually around 9am, and either go for a run or do some studying. I fix some breakfast (a tostada: toasted bread with olive oil and tomato, plus coffee and maybe an orange). Then I head to my sociology class taught through my program. After class, I study for a bit or run errands until lunch time. I eat a big lunch with my host family (around 3pm) and then grab a bicycle to head to my Psychology class (the times change throughout the week for this class - 3pm, 4pm, 5pm, 7pm - so no two days are alike). After class I head to the gym or I grab another bike to head straight over to the Biology campus. I really like the department's library, so I study for a bit before my 7pm Biology class. Then I bike home for a light dinner with the family around 10pm. Afterwards maybe I'll hang with friends or study or head to sleep. That's the gist of how my weekdays work. Recently lots of studying and much less socializing. Some days there's an extra class or two tossed into the mix, or I tutor a girl in English, or I'll even do something exciting. And yes, I do spend more time commuting to my Universidad de Sevilla classes than I actually spend in class.

As monotonous as the above paragraph sounds, it's all mine. Those are the bones of my schedule. Sprinkled in are pastries, nights out with friends, walks to explore, and lots of family time. On the last night of classes each week (usually Thursday night, unless there's a holiday) I usually go out to dinner with three of my friends. And it is all so normal now.

I've learned how to bike with speed down winding cobblestone streets, and the old, colorful buildings are just how my life looks. I don't eat as much ice cream as when I first arrived, since it's so much colder, but I've found my favorite cookie shop and have been trying out various churro places. I know the distances between the landmarks on my river runs. I've even figured out the directions of the one-way streets.

And then there's my new host family (I switched families about a month ago). I live in a house with two parents, three boys (ages 6, 11, and 13) and approximately five birds. There's loads going on in the house always, and while it often feels like there's no pattern and I'm always kept on my toes, somehow that has made all the difference in helping me find my feet and establish myself. I'm now comfortable at home and with a family, and that's how I know that I've found a rhythm that is right.

Here's an illustration of my newfound family life. I play Playmobile with Ale, the 6-year-old, on the floor of the play room, and listen to Evaristo, the 11-year-old, describe video games (that I do not understand) in excruciating detail for minutes on end. I set the table and help out with household chores, while discussing politics and gastronomy with my host parents, Noemi and Evaristo. I wake up each morning to shouts of getting everyone fed and out the door, and once I'm up I inevitably find that Juan, the 13-year-old has accidentally locked me out of our shared bathroom. Dinner is consumed on the couch, while we chat, yell, and watch television until almost 11pm every night. I eat jamon pretty much every day, usually in more than one form, and I've tried more shellfish than I've ever seen in my life. There's always someone racing around the house, whether the boys are chasing one another or Noemi is cleaning up after them. And through it all, the five birds are always there, doing their thing in their cages, and I'm making coffee and trying to fit in the study hours.

So that, right now, is Eliza in Sevilla.

Misc. Thoughts

In the past week the reality of my two Universidad de Sevilla classes has hit me: in less than a month I will be taking two finals, each covering all of the material from the entire course, and each worth my entire grade for the semester. This means that literally anything covered in the term is fair game for the test, and in my Psychology class, the test will consist of 50 true/false questions, and incorrect answers count as a grade reduction. In my Biology class, the final exam is accompanied by a lab exam in which I will be asked to identify the parts of various microscopic plant tissues. While this might sound like a very doable task, it's currently feeling like a monstrosity and I genuinely am crossing my fingers that I will be able to pull off a passing grade.

So I've spent the week studying. A lot. And will just keep right on studying for the next month. I haven't studied so far in advance for a test since I took the ACT in 2013. I imagine that this might be what it feels like to prepare for the MCAT?

This post is just a series of random thoughts and observations from the last while in Sevilla.

- Christmas is here. The entire city center has been decorated with massive light displays. Unfortunately they won't be turned on until December 8, almost two weeks from now. All of the Christmas sweets are also appearing. And Jingle Bells was playing in a coffee shop the other day.

- Black Friday is also here, and I hated it. The streets were so clogged with people that I couldn't bike or even walk my bike. I ended up just standing in the middle of the pedestrian shopping street, immobile. So many people. In the US I do my Black Friday shopping exclusively on the internet.

- The weather finally turned cool a few weeks ago! Mornings are chilly, and afternoons are in the 70s. It's nice. My runs are so much more doable.

- Our program took us to an Irish pub for an American Thanksgiving dinner. It was very Irish, and I was a little underwhelmed. My host family, though, prepared a special holiday meal for me, in honor of Thanksgiving (jumbo shrimp, very fancy jamón, cheese, crackers, sparkling wine) and it was so very kind.

- I've been eating even more pork, and learning even more about ham than I mentioned in my last post. Imagine a some sort of roasted cut of pork, stuffed with ham, accompanied by delicious mushrooms sprinkled with ham bits. And broccoli salad with ham. And also roasted trout stuffed with ham. It's a new way of life!

- I now have people who I talk to regularly in both of my university classes, which is very exciting. In my psychology class my friends are the two boys from my presentation group. Our presentations last week went swimmingly. Even better, I think I made a really funny joke because the two of them were laughing with me (and usually they're laughing at me)!

- I moved host families several weeks ago and this one's a riot and I love them. Yesterday I sat on the floor and played Playmobile with the 6-year-old before I remembered that I had to study.

- I officially have a favorite ice cream place. It's called Bolas.

- This morning I needed to buy soap and suddenly realized that I had no idea where in the city I might find that. Most stores here are not like stores at home (Target!) in the sense that you can't go to one place and pick up grapes, toilet paper, sunglasses, and nail polish all in one go (consumerism at its most convenient.) That wasn't an issue for me until today, when I couldn't imagine what kind of store might carry soap. Lucky for me, my friends are good at shopping and directed me to the supermarket.

- I've been doing quite a bit of traveling: Italy, Belgium (ate almost exclusively fries, chocolate, beer, and waffles), Morocco, and this weekend Barcelona. This girl loves to travel, and also loves Sevilla; some days feeling conflicted.

I can't believe that I have less than a month left in this city.

Jamón (and my lacking knowledge of meat)

Shortly after arriving in Sevilla, someone asked me what top three words I had previously associated with Spain. The first one I could come up with was jamón, or ham, and two months into my time here, it's still the first word that comes to mind. Part of that is because there is just so very much jamón in this country, in every form; the other part is that jamón presents a distinct phase in my own eating habits.

By my observations, cured Spanish ham (jamón serrano) seems to be most popular. It's also not something that I had ever tried in my life before arriving. In the markets, entire left legs of pig hang from hooks, and vendors slice thin strips for customers. These same legs also dangle in restaurants and bars. I've heard that it's not uncommon for families to buy a whole leg and keep eating at it in their kitchen for extended periods of time, but I have yet to see that for myself. Besides the cured ham, chopped up pieces of ham come in all sizes and types and are added to everything, from pasta to vegetables to eggs to soups. There is just so much ham. 

The very special pork is the jamón ibérico, ham from Iberian pigs. My understanding is that these pigs somehow have more desirable meat and are very flavorful, and only live in the Iberian peninsula.  So jamón ibérico is an even bigger deal than jamón serrano; as far as I can tell it comes in all of the same forms, but is always more pricey.

Here's the thing. I grew up not eating meat almost at all. I wasn't vegetarian and my family wasn't vegetarian (although, Dad, you're maybe vegan now?), but we just didn't eat much meat. We'd eat fish once or twice a week, chicken maybe every other week, and beef a few times a year. We're Jewish, and as good reform Jews, we pick and choose which religious laws to follow - so we never bought or cooked or ate pork at all in our home. Due to this relatively meat-free background, I was never exposed to an abundance of forms of animal protein. 

Ham aside, in Spain the other significant turf protein seems to be ternera. Which I think is baby cow, so I guess it's called veal. For some reason Spaniards are way more into ternera than into regular beef, to the extent that ternera is frequently consumed in place of beef (or at least where I imagine regular beef would normally be found - imagine very soft hamburgers, meatballs, etc.) Veal is another meat new to me.

Because I didn't spend much time around meat while growing up, I don't know how to identify meat at all. My knowledge is simply too lacking. This means that when served meat in Spain, I often have no idea what sort of animal I might be eating (usually ham, veal, chicken, or a combination of the above), and to this I have become quite accustomed. For me a huge part of travel is the food (!!) and so in coming to Spain, I knew that I'd be eating all sorts of meat and I decided that I would eat pork. This is what I'd done while living in Honduras and in Mexico, but in neither of those locations was pork such a dietary staple, and in neither of those situations was every meal prepared for me. So I'm really turning over new leaves here.

Being exposed to meat has opened new doors for me. Since arriving in Spain I have fully embraced pork as part of the cultural experience, not just eating it when served to me, but trying it whenever the opportunity arises and never turning it down. I have had red pork, black pork, light pork, brown pork; hot pork, cold pork, thin pork, thick pork. I do feel, though, that my lack of knowledge about meat has set me back quite a bit in understanding what I'm eating. Because I can't identify meat, once I learn that I'm eating pork, that's all the information I can manage. I'm not equipped to appreciate each cut of pork, the differences between its varied forms, and the specific flavors. Instead, here I am consuming blindly - which I don't mind, but it does mean that I can't actually write about Spanish pork in much detail. I can quickly explain the difference between jamón serrano and jamón ibérico (one pig has black toes, the other doesn't), but I certainly can't taste the difference.

I was in Italy over our fall break with Camila, a friend from my program. Camila loves jamón. As we ate our way through Rome and Naples, my eyes were opened to a whole new world of food. In my previous life absent of pork, any time I saw pork on a menu, I wrote off the dish and looked for something else. I usually avoided meat altogether. But that was never the case in sharing dishes with Camila; my eyes were opened to the world of meat. We ate pasta carbonara with crispy bacon in it, and pizzas with salami or prosciutto or sausage or all three. It's really a whole new ball game out here, and I'm not quite sure what to do with my newfound knowledge of protein in gastronomy.

Final thought: haven't yet decided how I feel about jamón and pork in general. For now it's certainly not bad, and I guess it's quite the thrill to discover what new and unanticipated foods jamón has been snuck into. 

Granada and La Alhambra

Last weekend I visited Granada with two friends from my program in Sevilla, Rebecca and Camila. One of my friends from Carleton is currently studying in Granada, and the entire Carleton Madrid program was also visiting Granada, so I planned our visit to be able to meet up with everyone. Just like the previous weekend in Valencia, it was so fun to see friends from home.

Granada is a few hours from Sevilla by bus, also in the Andalucía region of Spain, and is such a cool city. Unlike Sevilla, Granada has elevation and hills, with clear views of snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains. Granada was the last Arab city in the region to be conquered by the Catholic Monarchs, and as such, retains significant Arab influence, in the form of food and art and culture. And Granada somehow seems to be more laid-back and colorful than Sevilla, with loads of street art and political graffiti (Sevilla doesn't feel very politically involved). I was really, really into the city's vibes.

I must mention the free tapas. In Granada, with every drink ordered, a free tapa (small plate of food) arrives. It's a little bit like magic. In Sevilla if you order a drink maybe you'll get some olives or something, but Granada is a whole different story. Over the course of the weekend we got chicken curry, bread with tomato spread and cheese, stuffed olives, falafel, and couscous. All with the purchase of a glass of wine or a beer. Like I said, magic.

When my friends and I first started planning our trip to Granada, my host dad told me that we absolutely had to go to La Alhambra. Not knowing anything about it and having only seen a few photos, I responded something along the lines of, "I mean we've already been to the Alcazar in Sevilla, isn't it the same thing?" My host father was visibly astonished and the entire family couldn't believe what I'd said; a very passionate and convincing discussion ensued.

Ultimately, we knew that we'd have to visit La Alhambra (a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and apparently one of the most popular tourist stops in Europe). Unfortunately, when we tried to prebook our tickets a few weeks in advance, everything was already sold out. I read online that same day tickets could be purchased if we showed up to wait in line at 6:30am, fingers crossed that they wouldn't run out. So that became our game plan for getting into La Alhambra.

Our first afternoon in Granada was spent exploring with my friend Caroline, who showed us around the city where she lives. Great food, including the best churros we've had in Spain (went back the next day). We met up with my other Carleton friends at night (Saul, Sylvie, Dallas; see previous post). At 2:30am I set my alarm for 5:55am.

Still somewhat asleep, we trekked the 20 minutes up the steep hill to la Alhambra in the pitch-black dark of the morning. It was really more of a trail than a road, with zero illumination. Very creepy. When we arrived at the top of the hill, a security guard with a flashlight explained to us that since October 1, it was no longer possible to queue in the morning for same-day tickets. Tickets had to be purchased online, and the last rush tickets had been sold an hour before. We were crushed. Once the guard realized that we spoke Spanish, he told us that the new trick was to start refreshing the ticket webpage every minute, after midnight, until we obtained tickets. So we walked back to the Airbnb, climbed into our beds, and slept for another three hours.

When we finally woke up we made a lovely egg brunch (I cooked so much kale!) and re-evaluated our day. We spent the entire day walking around Granada, seeking out street art, and enjoying the beautiful views. I loved it. We even found a tiny Colombian take-away restaurant, which was joyful for everyone involved. Most definitely could have seen myself studying in Granada.

After a dinner of free tapas with Carleton friends, Rebecca, Camila, and I spent an intense hour trying to purchase tickets to La Alhambra while walking across Granada. We gave up and resigned ourselves to missing the world-renowned Arab palace. We were only finally successful with one last attempt, once we were at the discoteca dancing ourselves silly.

Sunday morning we rolled out of bed, made more eggs, and climbed back up the hill to the Alhambra. The entire journey there was surreal, since due to the chain of events, none of us could believe that we were actually going to visit. The Alhambra was beautiful. An ancient Arab royal palace and fortress, on a hill overlooking the city, with extensive palatial gardens. Unbelievably intricate decoration and tile work. Columns, fountains, flowers, and colors. It was expanded by different Islamic rulers throughout time, each addition following the theme of paradise. (Fun fact, La Alhambra was occupied by squatters after centuries of neglect, before being rediscovered and converted to present-day World Heritage Site.) I can't at all describe it, so please look at the photos and know that it was at least 12x better than I could capture. I highly recommend. Once we'd filled up on beauty, we hiked back down into town and boarded a bus back to Sevilla.

    

Valencia, last-minute

Okay, so I've got a little bit of catching up to do. I wasn't going to blog about my trip to Valencia, but all of a sudden I decided that I want to. So here we are.

A few weeks ago my friends and I had a trip planned to Barcelona. Then things started going crazy with politics (and attempts at independence) in Cataluña, and we slowly started feeling much less confident in our trip. We were warned of strikes, military intervention, and protests, and were finally prohibited by our program from going. So we cancelled the trip, and I spent the week frantically trying to figure out what else I could do for our long weekend. Long story short, lots of plans came and went and nothing was shaking out for me. Finally, I contacted my close friend Saul who is studying in Madrid with a Carleton program. He told me that he and two friends were going to Valencia for the weekend, and that they had room for one more in their Airbnb. I checked train tickets, and after the usual (lengthy and complicated) purchasing hassle, I had tickets to Valencia for two nights. 

My trip to Valencia was on the AVE train – the high-speed, long-distance train in Spain (also the longest high speed rail network in Europe!) – and the ride took about three hours. The train home was not aboard the AVE train. The train home took eight hours. But I'll circle back to that part.

I had a lovely time on the AVE, writing blog posts and doing work on my laptop and listening to music. I ate a potato sandwich from my host mom.  **Side note: who knew I would ever be at a point in my life where I'd be excited for a potato sandwich?! Well here I am. It's actually made of sliced Spanish tortilla (a very typical, very dense, very simple, frittata-esque potato and egg dish) on two slices of crusty white bread.**  I arrived in Valencia around 10pm, where Saul and (my new friends!) Sylvie and Dallas met me at the train station. 

My weekend in Valencia was surreal in how much I enjoyed it. It was incredibly fun, and I can only describe the weekend as joyful. I have so missed Carleton people. I laughed more than I had in a while, and as I sit here typing this post I'm grinning from ear to ear at the memories.

On Friday we cooked eggs for breakfast! This was such a happy change from peanut butter toast every single morning. In Spain they don't do big breakfasts, and most people eat some variation of bread and coffee each day; I've missed the massive quantity of eggs that I normally consume daily. We put spinach in the eggs, and also enjoyed brie and chorizo and bread. We spent much of the day at the beach. Lucky for me, Saul and Dallas both play frisbee, so we played some lovely Mediterranean Sea frisbee for a long while. Only my belly button got sunburnt (still not sure how that happened.)

Mercat Central de Valencia.

Paella (the famous Spanish rice dish, full of varied seafood and meat) originates from Valencia, so we absolutely had to get paella for our late lunch. All I will say about this is that it was potentially worth going all the way to Valencia simply for paella. (I'm clearly still thinking about that lunch.)

Planning to cook dinner, we arrived at the grocery store 19 minutes before closing, with little plan of what we would prepare. We split up to race around the store and somehow decided that we'd make homemade pizza and salad. In our rush we did accidentally double up on some of the ingredients and forget others, but we found oregano in our Airbnb and everything was so yummy.

Palm trees and cool architecture.

Saturday morning we made more eggs, this time with all of the leftover pizza toppings – mushrooms, spinach, ham, and goat cheese. I was over the moon at eggs for breakfast two days in a row. Pretty soon I had to head out to the train station. On the walk I stopped at the Mercat Central, Valencia's massive indoor food market in a cool domed building. It was absolutely popping on a Saturday morning, and I do love me a good market.

All in all, I didn't actually see too much of Valencia. And normally that would be a bummer for me, but the weekend truly couldn't have been any better. Walking around I saw some of the principal parts of the city, but more than that I saw my friends and had a heart-filling weekend, which was exactly what I needed. 

When I got on the not-AVE train back to Seville, I realized what made it not the AVE. Instead of outlets and trashcans for each passenger, the seats were not in great shape and the cleanliness simply wasn't up to par with the AVE. The real kicker was that the seats were facing backwards for the entire train ride, because I guess the train didn't turn around between arriving from Sevilla and departing for Sevilla; I watched Spain pass backwards outside my window for eight hours. 

Tierra, trágame!

During my intensive Spanish class (the first few weeks of being in Sevilla), I learned an expression: Tierra, trágame! It's what people say when something so mortifying, so terrible happens that they want to vanish into the earth. It's like saying "Earth, open up and swallow me whole, right here, right now."

The pictures included in this post were chosen very carefully, to suit the mood. They are from a town called Ronda (which was, in fact, absolutely lovely.)

I'm pretty sure that my Biology professor gets a kick out of the fact that I'm in her class. I think she told me that she taught at a university in Texas for a bit. I'm the only student whose name she knows, because I am the single foreigner. The other day in class she asked a question, and students were all shouting out answers. After approximately eight incorrect answers, she said, "Eliza, do you know the answer?" I didn't even know what the question was, because class frequently flies over my head.

I want to be clear that I do really like this professor, and even though I don't understand most of what she says, I think she's an excellent teacher.

On Monday, our professor came into the classroom and announced that she would be giving the lecture in English, just as she'd promised me (I had told her to please not do that, that it was not at all necessary). Everyone groaned heavily. I wanted to duck underneath my desk and hide for a while.

There were probably 20 additional students in the classroom on Monday, because it turns out that they'd waited until a few weeks into the semester to start showing up to our class. I've heard that this is pretty common here. So, for several students, Monday was their class.

I don't think anybody really believed that my professor would give the lecture in English. We were all wrong; she was digging the chance to practice her English.

Ten minutes into the lecture a student raised his hand to ask why she was doing this. The professor explained that Eliza has to attend class every day in Spanish, and that for the visitor's sake (apparently that's me, but I thought I was a normal student?) she would lecture today in English. She went on about how this wouldn't be a problem for anyone, because the students must meet a level of English fluency before they can enroll at the university, so everyone should be able to keep up.

The student asked if this was an every day thing, and the professor explained that it was just for the day, but might happen again. She pointed out that she'd told me that she would do this for me (ugh).

No one in the room, myself included, had signed up for this. People were not into it. I was squirming in my seat.

The professor resumed lecturing. Students started packing up their things and leaving.

Tierra, trágame.

After about fifteen students had left the classroom, the professor paused her teaching. Reverting to Spanish, she asked how could it be that the students couldn't even stand one lecture in English? She went on that English is the language of science, that all of the articles and texts in Biology are in English. The students were supposed to know English, and in later years, would have to take courses in English.

So there I sat. Wanting more than anything for class to be over, and sure that no longer would I have any chance of having friends in that class.

Oh well, if nothing else, my professor seems to like me.

On Tuesday, I wiped out in the mud (surprise, it rained for the first time today) riding my Sevici bicycle (see previous post about Sevici challenges) to my Psychology class. I was covered in mud, and used the toilet paper in a Pizza Hut bathroom to clean up as best I could before class. But I was still covered in mud. And due to the events of the previous day, I decided that I couldn't show up to my Biology class that muddy - I had already lost a few too many points with my peers. So after Psychology, I went all the way home to shower before my Biology class. It turns out that I made the right move, because several students talked to me today!

The Sevilla Bike Experience

Before arriving in Sevilla, Spanish Studies Abroad recommended Sevici, the city's bike rental program. Growing up biking around the Twin Cities, I realized the value of being able to commute by bicycle. After looking into Sevici and the accessibility of the bike docking stations, as well as the tentative locations of my classes, I sat down in my Cape Town apartment and purchased a long-term Sevici subscription.

When I got to Sevilla, I saw Sevici bike stations everywhere, and quickly felt great about my membership. I also noticed bike lanes throughout the very flat city, and decided that purchasing the subscription had been a fantastic choice. To be clear, it was, and still is, a great decision. But one month later, I have a daily love-hate relationship with Sevici.

This blog post is entirely about biking in Sevilla. If you want to read a real blog about real biking (across the United States), check out my brother's blog -- it's stellar.

My local Sevici bike station, half a block from our apartment.

My Sevici membership card didn't arrive until a few weeks into my stay. As such, my inaugural bike ride was to attend my first ever Universidad de Sevilla class (Psychology). The bike ride was the most stressful part of that afternoon. To start, the Sevici bikes are quite cumbersome, to say the least. They are heavy. They are tippy and hard to maneuver. When I first got on the bike I felt as though I'd forgotten how to ride a bicycle.

The next factor was the roads. Most of the roads in the city center are cobblestone. If you've never biked on a cobblestone road, that's probably a good thing. It's sketchy. And to add to the challenge of biking on cobblestones, most of the roads appear to be one-ways, and I have yet to figure out which way each road runs. What I think I may have found, though, is that usually roughly six parallel roads run in the same direction (which seems quite counterintuitive and I don't understand in the slightest), making things frustrating when I'm trying to go in the opposite direction.

The next component is the bike lanes. Yes, they run through convenient parts of the city, but mostly through very popular areas. This means that in touristy areas, I'm constantly dinging my little bicycle bell at dozens of pedestrians wandering through my lane. Not to mention the pedestrians that stand in the bike lane to take photos. So it's a constant game of dodging oblivious people and the (very slow) tram that parallels the bike lane. This is what turns a 15-minute ride on Google maps into a 25-minute experience. (And, confession: it is what has made the bike commuter in me hate pedestrians.)

One of many cobblestone roads.

Finally, the heat is a major element of the Sevici adventure. When I arrived in Spain at the beginning of September, I heard that by October temperatures would drop from the high 90s, cooling off for the winter. I'm still waiting for that drop. This means that after every bicycle ride, no matter the time of day or the length of the journey, I always arrive dripping sweat.

Since my first Sevici ride to Psychology class three weeks ago, I've used countless bicycles. My absurd class schedule places me in three different parts of the city for twelve total class periods each week, and unfortunately for me, many of these classes just so happen to coincide with the hottest and sunniest hours of each day. For the first time in my life my backpack has developed sweat stains.

The other thing that I've learned about Sevici is that sometimes the stations run out of bikes. This happens quite frequently, actually, especially at common commuting hours and especially by the Biology campus. Also, stations are frequently full of bikes. Given that Sevici only allows 30 minutes of bike rental before charging a euro, this can be somewhat anxiety-provoking, when returning a bike and trying to arrive somewhere on time. And lastly, sometimes the bikes are broken. 

One very memorable early-morning Sevici ride consisted of renting the only bike available at the station near my house, to find that the seat was broken, and its height could not be raised. So I biked to the next closest station, but found no bikes. With my knees at chest level, I biked eight minutes to another bike station, returned the broken bike, and was timed out from taking a new bike for five minutes. I got a bike, this one with a faulty gear shift, rode it to the bus stop where I was to meet my program for a day trip, and discovered that all of the bike docks in the area were full. Unamused, I biked back several blocks, finally found a station with space for my bike, and ran to the bus stop. My friends got a kick out of the ordeal.

So that's my essay on the hate components of my love-hate relationship with Sevici. To keep the love short: it's much easier to bike to each of my classes, criss-crossing the city, than it is to walk. And it's much cheaper than taking the bus or the metro (side note: the metro runs more slowly than I bike). The bikes really are everywhere in the city, and Sevilla is flat. It also means that I can very easily meet friends who live in other parts of the city, especially when I'm not up for that 45-minute walk. And I guess the heavy and awkward bike lends itself to a bit of a workout, albeit with intense sweat. But overall, being able to hop on a bike is a game-changer.

So would I recommend Sevici? Yes. But I just have to say that it's harder than it looks. Mom and Dad, when you come to visit I'm not sure I'll let you bike; don't want any broken body parts. Jeremy, you can try it out.

The Extranjera

This past week was my first week of classes at the Universidad de Sevilla. Through Spanish Studies Abroad, I have the option to enroll as a foreign student and take whichever university classes I'd like. That's one of the main reasons I chose this program, and after months of logistical uncertainty, I'm currently enrolled in Cell Biology and Psychology of Personality and Human Diversity. I should mention that few students in my program take classes at the local university, and most of those who do take classes established specifically for foreign students. What I'm trying to say is that I'm the only foreign student in either of my two classes.

While I had hoped that it wouldn't be incredibly obvious and apparent to my peers that I am not a Spanish student, I also knew that it wouldn't be a secret. This post is about how it has since become very, very well known that I am a foreigner, an extranjera.

Because the university is so big (Wikipedia tells me 80,000 students,) it is spread throughout the city. This means that the Psychology department and the Biology department are on entirely different campuses, and so between those two classes and my classes at the Spanish Studies Abroad center, I'm all over Sevilla. I joined Sevici, the city bike share program, and have been learning how to bike in this city. But that alone probably warrants an entire blog post. Basically, I show up extremely sweaty and frazzled to all of my classes (which isn't helping me to blend in).

On Monday I arrived at the Biology campus, only to find that it was deserted and that classes actually wouldn't start until Tuesday. Oh well. On Tuesday the professor took attendance, and when she got to the one name she couldn't pronounce, she asked where I was from. I replied "Estados Unidos," and turned a nice shade of red, while everyone swiveled to look at me. So that was my first extranjera reveal. The next day a student cheerfully approached me and introduced herself, speaking English. She told me that if I ever had questions or needed help with anything I should let her know. She immediately asked for my phone number, sent me a message with her own number, offered to share her notes with me, introduced me to her friends, and invited me to go out with a group of students the next night. She even followed up later on. Even though I know it's definitely not the case, it was almost as though someone had paid her to be my friend. But it was so sweet of her and I definitely need friends, so I'm certainly not complaining.

During the seminar section of my Psychology class, we spent the entire hour discussing the group presentations for the term. With five minutes remaining, the professor announced that we needed to tell him our groups and our topics. All hour I had dreaded the moment that I knew was coming, when I would have to find a group in a class of students that all already knew one another. As students began to shout out names to the professor, a boy asked me whether or not I had a group, and did I want to be in a group with him and his friend. I replied with a massive "yes please!" and what I imagine was all-too-evident relief. Only after we had agreed to be in a group did I tell him that I was a foreign student and that this is my first time taking classes in Spain. (Or in Spanish, ever, for that matter, but I certainly didn't tell him that.) I hope he wasn't too bummed when he realized what he'd just signed up for.

During another Psychology class, my professor was explaining how to complete the online personality tests. He looked at me and asked me whether or not I was an extranjera. I replied "sí!" after which he asked whether or not my ID number has numbers in it, and, confused as usual, I told him that I did not know. Once again, lots of whispers at the public reveal of my extranjera identity. Later discussing grief therapy, the same professor asked if I was from the US. Again, I said "sí!" and when I didn't know the famous psychologist that he so appreciated, he appeared quite let down.

So now all of my classmates know that I'm the extranjera, and an American extranjera at that; oh well, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Class right now is really hard, and the Andalusian accent is crazy to me. Despite my desperate concentration, most of what the professors say goes straight over my head. I'm holding out hope that it'll get easier, though. On the bright side, they don't give homework here. On the less bright side, the entire grade rests on the final exam. Cross your fingers for me please!

So here are two photos of me in places where I felt more comfortable than I currently do in class! The first is at the top of the fortress in Trujillo (see previous post for more info), and the second is with friends in the bathtub of an ancient Arab bath house in Ronda.

Many Little Trips

Since arriving in Sevilla, I've been to all sorts of historical sites (so many that they are beginning to look blend together). So, here is a brief compilation of these places, all of them very old. If you have any interest in more information than I will provide, I recommend Wikipedia.

Itálica. The first ancient Roman city in Spain. Game of Thrones (a very popular American TV series, that I've never seen) was filmed here. There is a massive amphitheater, one of biggest of the Roman empire, where gladiators used to do their thing. It was cool, and I would have liked more time to explore.

Real Alcazar de Sevilla. This is the royal palace that has changed hands over the centuries, and to this day includes architecture and design elements from both Muslim and Christian rule. So much tile work, and all in various period-specific styles, as the palace was continually expanded and redecorated. Very, very beautiful and unlike anything I'd ever seen; I thoroughly enjoyed our visit. The royal gardens behind the palace are massive and full of cool plants and peacocks, and it would make a lovely picnic ground except for the fact that you have to pay to enter. Fun fact: this is the oldest royal palace in Europe that is still in use. And Game of Thrones was also filmed here.

Catedral y Giralda. The Cathedral is the biggest Gothic cathedral in the world (do I know what Gothic means? Not entirely sure, but I think it's a style of decoration). It was built in the location of a mosque that was destroyed, but for the Giralda, the super tall tower. 

**Side note: that's how all the churches work here - they were built on top of mosques. Which were sometimes built on top of old churches. And one time we saw one that was a church built on a mosque built on a church built on a mosque.** 

The cathedral was very pretty, and even housed the remains of the lower half of Christopher Columbus' body. The Giralda is a tower that contains 34 ramps that wrap around in a square, and reaches a height of 17 stories; for centuries it was the tallest tower in ofSpain. We were quite sweaty by the time we reached the top, but the views of all of Sevilla from the bell tower were so cool.

Plaza de España. A really cool, massive plaza built for the 1929 Iberoamerican Exposition (not sure what that was about). It's a half circle, has a fountain in the middle, and even has a little river with rental row boats. It's beautifully decorated, with tiled alcoves representing each province of Spain. The buildings are now used for the government, I think. I visited with a friend, and unfortunately there are no signs providing any information at all.

Teatro Romano de Cádiz. When my friends and I spent the day in Cádiz, a beach town a few hours from Sevilla, we stumbled upon a Roman theater that was under excavation. We saw a sign announcing emergency works at the Roman theater, and were so confused as to where the ancient theater was and why it was an emergency, but later realized that the ruins were right next to us and that the emergency was to prevent the collapse of the buildings that been constructed on top of the ruins.

Catedral de Cádiz. Another cathedral. This one had a crypt, which was very humid and a bit eerie. Also the most recent burial in the crypt was from 2013. And we climbed the very tall bell tower.

Random Arab castle. Our program took us on a day trip to a park for hiking, and we stopped at an Arab castle on a hill, serving as fortification. I was a touch underwhelmed, and am still not sure where we were.

Ruinas Romanas de Mérida. Our program brought us on an overnight trip this weekend, and our first stop was to see Roman ruins in Merida. We saw the amphitheater and the theater. The amphitheater was smaller than Itálica (see above) and the theater was larger than Cádiz (also above), though this theater has been restored and is currently a functional outdoor theater. Game of Thrones might have been filmed here. We also visited the national museum of Roman ruins, where we learned that the statues don't have heads so that the Roman empire could easily swap new marble heads onto toga-clad marble bodies whenever  the king changed.

Ciudad vieja de Cáceres. Also this weekend, we went to the medieval city in Cáceres. It was really old and pretty, and full of massive palaces and churches and such. What somewhat affected the medieval mood was the fake Oktoberfest celebration that was occurring in the main plaza of the historic city center, full of beer and music. Also, lots of towers on the palaces were flat on top, because some queen would chop the tops off the towers of the families that were disloyal to the king. Very cool space though, really liked it. Game of Thrones was filmed here (you may be noticing a trend).

Trujillo. Our last stop this weekend was in the birthplace of Francisco Pizarro (the conqueror of Peru - yikes!). We walked around, saw his father's house, and also saw a convent that is completely closed off to the world. The monks (and maybe nuns, too?) make candies in the convent, and then people ring the bell and speak through the wall, and the monks place candies on a revolving shelf to sell them. We also visited a very cool Arab fortification castle on the hill overlooking the whole surrounding area. The views were great, and the walk on top of the castle walls was fun. We even went down into the old well area, where the water now appears to be quite stagnant. And yep, Game of Thrones was filmed in this castle.

So there's my not-so-short, but fairly vague summary. Lots of trips, lots of history. I'm starting to think that maybe I should watch Game of Thrones.

History and jogging (and ice cream)

My mom told me that I should write a blog post about trying to buy train tickets for a day at the beach. And while I don't think I'm going to write an entire post about it, here's a somewhat shortened version of the story. My friends and I spent an extended period of time looking into the best way to get to Cadiz, for a day trip to a cool beach city, and ultimately decided that we'd take the train. After class we tried buying tickets through the national train website, but the site wasn't working. So we each downloaded a third party ticket app and bought our train tickets. We then found out that if we purchased our tickets through the train company directly, we could save 20%, so we cancelled our original tickets. We also wanted to make sure we could sit together, so I spent the next two hours on both my computer and my phone trying to purchase these four train tickets, with sites crashing left and right, oftentimes when I entered my credit card information. It was a bit stressful. Finally, I gave up and walked the 35 minutes to the train station, stood in line for 10 minutes, and after two minutes at the counter, had all four of our tickets in my hand. I later looked up information about the train website and found out that in general no one is able to successfully purchase train tickets. Moral of the story: walk to the train station, buy tickets.

In other news, classes are happening and life is happening. I've eaten more ice cream in the last week than I have in months, purely because it's  literally anywhere and everywhere. And it's delicious; flavors thus far have included almond, kinder bueno, coffee, hazelnut, and chocolate mousse.

A pretty typical plaza, that just seems to announce "history."

I am quickly realizing how little I knew and understood about Europe before coming here, in the sense that I really know nothing about the history or politics of any piece of the continent. More than anything, I'm learning that history is on every corner; Spanish culture has so many centuries on the United States, and I'm starting to see what that looks like. Many buildings in the city center (where I live) have big plaques, announcing whichever historically famous person died in that building. This weekend at the beach in Cadiz we came upon an ancient Roman theater that is currently being excavated from under more contemporary construction. In a different town, before beginning a hike, our program brought us to a random Arab fortification castle on a hill. Last week I visited the royal palaces, and was blown away by the beauty of the tiled decoration that represented centuries of varied artistic style. Also in Cadiz, we visited the cathedral and its crypt, and walked to another random castle. Oh, and many of the streets here are still cobblestone. So basically there is a lot to take in. Maybe I'll write a blog post soon about all the little trips that I've done to places around Sevilla.

In terms of more current events, this morning Gillian, my wonderful roommate, and I found massive potted trees on the commercial pedestrian street that we walk on our way to school each day. This street is located in the city center, and is extremely popular among both tourists and locals; it's also a few blocks from where we live. The concrete-potted plants were spaced at intervals along the middle of the road. Gillian pointed out to me that perhaps they have been installed as obstacles against terrorism, and I think she's right.

The river, after my run. (Path sort of visible along the water.)

The weather is starting to cool down now (80s during the day). Since arriving here, I've been going on runs in the evening along the Guadalquivir river, and the cooler weather has made it unbelievably more bearable than it was last week. I'm much less smothered by the heat. Cooler weather also means more people on the beautiful pedestrian path that runs along the river bank. So though my runs have become easier climate-wise, they now consist of dodging bicyclists, walkers, families, joggers, dogs, dog poop, and random children. It keeps me on my toes.


P.S. Gillian and I discovered the "Gourmet Experience" floor of the biggest department store in town, and were amazed to find a product labeled "Minnesota maple-flavored syrup." It left us puzzled.

Beautiful! Hot!

I've spent the past six days attempting to relocate my Spanish, while sweating my way around Sevilla. While much of my Spanish is coming back, it can't yet compare with the fast-paced, heavily accented Andalusian Spanish that surrounds me. After being politely called out by a 17-year-old Spanish boy seated next to me on my first flight to Madrid, I've stopped saying mande? the Mexican slang used to ask someone to repeat something missed, and instead I have become quite okay with only understanding key points of conversations with Spaniards. All said, it's quite lovely to be speaking Spanish once again.

I tend to travel without many expectations of a place, and as such, am generally at least pleasantly surprised by whatever I may find. Sevilla is absolutely beautiful, to an extent that (having never really traveled in Europe) I could not have imagined. I live in the city center where the streets twist and turn, because, as I understand it, the Arab architects built tiny streets and close buildings to maximize shade in the Mediterranean heat. This means that no street goes in the direction that I anticipate, and I constantly end up in new places. I wouldn't say that I feel lost, but I also wouldn't say that I know where I'm going. 

Cafes and tapas bars line every street, and ice cream is sold on every block. I've been doing quite a bit of wandering and window shopping, and I love being able to explore this new city. It's hot, though, like Honduras hot with constant sweat, and temperatures in the 90s or 100s. The only fix has been the siesta time in the afternoon, during the hottest part of each day, when people rest at home for a few hours. One afternoon we had a class at 5pm (people usually don't leave their houses again until 5pm at the earliest,) and no one realized that the air conditioning in the classroom wasn't turned on; I thought I was going to faint. Other than that the heat is manageable and I definitely prefer extreme heat to extreme cold, so it's working out alright.

So far things feel good. I walked 15 miles yesterday, just exploring different parts of the city. Upon my return home for lunch, a wedding across from our apartment was just concluding, and the bride and groom emerged from the church to cheers and rose petals thrown by exquisitely dressed Spaniards. I'm trying to take it all in and get a sense of this place, and with all the walking I'm discovering sore muscles that I didn't know existed. I feel so lucky to spend the next few months here.

When my friends from home message me to ask about Spain, I've taken to responding simply: Beautiful! Hot! because I don't think I can yet express this city in any other way.

In Cape Town, Beginning to Think About Sevilla

I wrote this post a few weeks ago, while applying to be one of the Spanish Studies Abroad student bloggers, so some of it may be old news. Also, the photos that I've included are from my current adventures in South Africa. 






Cape Town is beautiful and full of life, and I’m enjoying each day here, while I intern at a community health clinic. While I’ve lived abroad in many countries, Cape Town is the first time that I’ve lived in the center of a big city, with adventures easily accessible at almost any moment. I’m loving exploring the city after work, hiking in the mountains on weekends, and cooking dinner at night with my roommates. The cafes and markets nearby are lovely, and the concept of creating a home for myself in a new city has overwhelmed me with excitement for the chance to do it again in an entirely different city in the fall. How truly lucky I am to adventure in two beautiful cities on two separate continents, where each will be my home for several months.

This past week my Spanish study visa was finally approved! After two long months of waiting, during which I obtained an emergency second duplicate passport to allow me to travel to South Africa, it would be an understatement to say that I’m relieved that my passport is in the hands of my parents. I’ve now been in Cape Town for four weeks, and it feels incomprehensible that had I not googled “emergency second passport” I would just now be arriving in this country.

At the health clinic in Cape Town I spend days observing medical professionals or working on patient education projects. It’s learning by observation; very different from academic learning, and the knowledge feels quite tangible. I’m nevertheless looking forward to classes in Sevilla, where I anticipate that academics will be engaging and quite unlike the learning environment that I’m used to in the United States (not to mention that classes will be in Spanish.)

This past week I spent 25 minutes composing an email in Spanish. I needed to contact someone from Spanish Studies Abroad, and I knew that the time had come for me to write in my second language. The challenge, however, is that I’ve never used Spanish in any sort of academic environment, which makes me a bit nervous for classes in Spain. I spent my lunch break at the clinic composing a message, carefully thinking over each sentence, and hoping that the grammar would end up alright. Because I learned Spanish by immersion, and never formally learned any grammar rules, I rely entirely on intuition when I speak or write in the language. I finally sent the email off, fingers crossed. I promptly received a response, which opened with a compliment about my writing Spanish; while it was a relief to be complimented, I’m wary of how much effort went into such a short email! I remain nervous, but slightly more confident that I’ll be able to manage my University of Sevilla classes.

My excitement for my semester in Sevilla is only matched by my excitement for the rest of my time in Cape Town. For now, I’m living each day as it comes, exploring what I can before I turn my sights to a new place of adventure.