La vida en el botxo

Summer fun with Couchsurfers (July-August)

2011-12-11T14:30:00.000-06:00

For the remainder of July, I lived with Bryan. Meanwhile, Bryan and his roommate hosted a series of Couchsurfers. The first ones were Mara, from Argentina, and David, from Germany. We played many a fun game of mau, and Mara and I shared mate, my beloved drink from Argentina. Later came Pablo from the Canary Islands. After him came Alexandra, a British English teacher living in Granada. While she was in town, Couchsurfing Bilbao organized a dinner in a txoko, I was excited to be able to visit a real, live txoko, because you usually have to be a member or have connections to get to enter these closed Basque gastronomic societies. In this case, there was Pakistani guy whose goal was to cook in as many countries as he could, and a CSer who is a member of the txoko opened up the place for the event. Since the places where people live in Bilbao are pretty small, txokos are really the only place where you can get a large group of people together for a meal.

Soon after Alexandra came Kate, an American like us. The Friday that she arrived, I was walking near Plaza Moyúa, and I saw a couple guys who looked very lost, so I asked where they wanted to go. Upon learning that we were heading in the same direction, we walked and talked. Before parting ways, I offered to show them around the city later that night, and they accepted. Later, I was looking on Couchsurfing, and there was a French girl who was looking for people to hang out with that night. So, that night, Bryan, Kate, and I met these two Americas, Jeff and Andrew, and the French girl, Helene, and we had some drinks and pintxos. The six of us then planned to get back together in the morning to go to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, followed by the beach at Bakio. It turned out to be one of the best whims ever. Bryan gives me a hard time for being a human snowball, but so far it's been really rewarding. I always tell him that my sister Monica is worse than I am.

Between Couchsurfing events, I spent my time looking for places to live and people to give English lessons to. Unfortunately, no one was interested in English lessons in the summer. In August, most unessential businesses go on vacation, for the whole month! There were plenty of people looking for renters, but before visiting them, I talked with my friends Iban (from Álava) and Adrian (from Romania), and we decided that we'd look for a place to rent together. For me, this was ideal. I didn't want another experience of living without community like I had the year before. In the meantime, my friend Jessica, a fellow auxiliar, offered for me to rent her room while she was in the States because otherwise she'd be out a full month's rent. So, in August, I lived in Jessica's apartment and continued my search for more permanent housing, but it was difficult since all the real estate agencies were closed.

Since I still didn't have work, I continued to check Couchsurfing for travelers in need of guides and to meet people from all around the world at the weekly CS meetings. One day, I met up with Juan Carlos, from Guatemala, and Juan José, from Colombia, and we climbed Artxanda. Also, while I was looking for apartments, I met another Guatemalan, Stef, also a Couchsurfer. When I came to check out the apartment, she invited me to stay for a game of poker with her and some friends. She's one of the friendliest people I've ever met, with a knack for bringing people together, and I ended up coming back several more Fridays.

On another occasion, I saw a message from Nico, from Belgium. He was looking for people to hang out with in Bilbao, and he wanted to go hiking. We met one afternoon for drinks and pintxos. I remembered that there is a group called "sigue al burro" (follow the donkey) that goes hiking somewhere every Sunday, and this week they were going to Monte Candina in nearby Cantabria between Laredo and Castro-Urdiales. I told Nico about it and then decided to go myself. It also occurred to me that Alberto would be interested in going, so I invited him, too, and he brought his brother, Gabri. "Sigue el burro" was a fairly large group, over 15 Basque hikers. We made it to the top of the mountain and took in some amazing views of the Cantabrian coast, then we went to a place called "ojos del diablo" (Devil's eyes), a rock formation in the mountain with two large holes. Unfortunately, we hadn't brought our swimsuits with us, so the four of us decided to split away from the larger group to return to our car and then meet the others at the beach. We lost the trail and mistakenly went down the hillside of Hades. We'd run out of water, and it was hot. There were flies that kep biting us, and the descent was fairly steep and so overgrown with thorns that after over 30 minutes of trying to go downhill, we decided to backtrack (uptrack?) and find another way down. Eventually we did, and I'd never been more pleased to jump into the ocean, despite the salt water burning my scrapes.

Alberto, Nico, and I met up again for an excursion to the French Basque Country. First we went to Château Abbadia, near Hendaye, which is a cool little castle covered in stone statues of animals. Where is Aslan when you need him?

Then we went to our principal destination, Biarritz, a beautiful French coastal city. It was too cold to take a dip, so we just strolled around. Unfortunately, I think I unwittingly left my camera in the car when we were there, but I found the following pics on Nico's Facebook:

After seeing the main part of Biarritz, Alberto took us to a nearby peaceful lake, and we whiled away the hours. On the way back to Bilbao, Alberto took us to a small Basque village called Sare (or Sara in Basque). The town was having some sort of fair, and there was a flea market, music, cider, and talos. The picture on the left is in an old Basque cemetary. I thought it was really cool that so many of the headstones had a lauburu, symbol of Basque-itude.

Another day, I met up with Alberto to see a parade, or so I thought. When I arrived at the metro stop, Alberto found me and took me into the parade, and I became a part of his parents' cuadrilla. I quickly learned their little dance, which resembled the dance I learned for The Wizard of Oz. I realized that was the reason Alberto wanted me to come, because I had recently taught it to him. So I danced down the hill with Alberto's parents while everyone watching the parade wondered what a guiri (foreigner) was doing in it. Later Alberto showed me the rest of the fiesta de San Roque in Portugalete, which was a nice precursor to the madness in Bilbao that I would experience later. There were an awkward rock band of men in thongs and people partying everywhere. We watched a cucaña competition in which young men had to grab a flag that was at the end of a greased pole before slipping into the river below. There was also a medieval market and a falconry show. Below is the jarrilla, icon of the fiestas of Portu. Apparently the doll has a different profession each year, and per custom, when the fiesta is over, they burn her.

On another occasion, Iban was participating in a tortilla (Spanish omelette) competition in Amurrio, and he invited me along. I arrived just as they were giving away awards, and Iban and his friends received some, but not as high as he would have liked. The photo top right is not a tortilla but bacalao al pil-pil, the signature dish of the Basque Country. There were also prizes for it. Afterward, I met Iban's friends, and we gorged ourselves on tortilla before playing a very confusing card game using a Spanish deck of cards.

The weekend after that, Couchsurfers in San Sebastian organized a hike in the cliffs of Jaizkibel, near the city of Hondarribia. About halfway through the hike, we stopped to swim and have lunch, though swimming was difficult due to the sharp rocks and urchins (or in Spanish "hedgehogs of the sea"). I met a lot of new people and had a great time. After the hike we had a snack in Hondarribia before finally heading home.

When I arrived from the hike, Aste Nagusia was already underway in Bilbao. Aste Nagusia, Basque for "big week," boasts Spain's longest party, nine days of free concerts, parades, bullfights, and Basque cultural events like rural sports, gastronomy, and dancing. A park that overlooks the city is converted for the week into a carnival similar to the state fair, complete with rides, junk food, games, and a circus. And an area along the river is lined with txosnas, stands that sell drinks and sometimes have live music. The most incredible thing was the volume of people. I don't know where they all came from or where they slept, but there they were. On two separate days, I saw a parade of giants.

On another day, I went to a bullfight with Bryan and Juan Jose. I didn't understand exactly how the bullfighters were being ranked, so I can't explain how it works, but there seemed to be a ton of tradition involved, like a culture within a culture, much like in any sport, I suppose. I was impressed that there were so many dedicated spectators, despite changing cultural trends. The skill of the bullfighters was incredible, and I was mesmerized just as Hemingway must have been.

Each night of Aste Nagusia, there is a fireworks show, and I watched every single one. Before seeing these fireworks, I had never really noticed the art involved in setting them off. Some of these shows are competitions, so they are taken very seriously. They don't just set them off randomly, but every explosion is timed and positioned where they want it. I had also never been so close to the fireworks show before, but in certain areas of the city, you could not only see, hear, and smell them, but also feel the vibrations.

After the fireworks is when the real party is kindled each night, so afterwards, I usually got together with friends and enjoyed a concert or two. My favorite concert was an extremely talented Irish group that performed right next to the Guggenheim museum. Above in the middle, I'm with friends Juan Jose, Ozlem (from Turkey), and Noemi (from Bilbao). On one of the most memorable nights of the week, I taught them the hokie pokie. On the right, though she's hard to see, is Marijaia, symbol of Aste Nagusia. At the end of the fiestas, she is rowed down the river and burned in front of city hall.

Pamplona, Huesca, and Bayonne (July)

2011-12-06T13:54:00.005-06:00

I had mentioned to Alberto that I was interested in going to San Fermines, that is, the fiesta in Pamplona famous for the "running of the bulls" AKA the encierro. They release the bulls in the morning, so that means to see it, you have to either party in Pamplona all night, or what we did: wake up far before the butt crack of dawn and drive into the city filled with partied-out crazies, the very morning after I arrived in Bilbao. If it weren't for Grandma, I couldn't have done it.

When we arrived, there were tons of people who were lined up along the street waiting to see the encierro. As you can see, everyone dresses in white and red, unless, of course your white turns to pink because of a wine fight the night before. Because of all the people, it was nearly impossible to see the angriest bulls at the beginning, but later I saw some milder ones, as well as the aftermath of the former. I was still wearing my boot-cast of course, so we had to take it slow. Spaniards don't use boot casts, so everyone gave me strange looks as if I were "robocop" or something. So many people come to Pamplona for this fiesta that there was no place for them, and many people turned the public areas into their own personal living room, bedroom, and bathroom.

After the encierro, Alberto and I walked around the city, including the plaza de toros (bullring). As the morning went on, the fiesteros (partiers) collapsed where they could, and families populated the streets. There was a parade of people wearing giant costumes, Basque rural sports, and Basque dancing. Pamplona, by the way, is the capital of Navarra, an autonomous region of Spain that is historically Basque, and it's still claimed by Basque nationalists.

There were also a couple of guys making music by beating pieces of wood, called txalaparta. I was impressed:

After getting our fill of Pamplona, we headed toward Jaca, a town in the Pyrenees in the province of Huesca (autonomous community: Aragon). On the way there, we stopped at some cliffs where there used to be a train track, but now there are just places to walk and vultures. We also found a watering hole that Alberto had been to before with other friends.

Finally, we arrived in Jaca and settled into our lodging for the trip. Alberto's friend owns a flat there and lets him stay there whenever. The next morning, we went to Estación Canfranc, a derelict train station near the French border. Click the link for historical information.

There was a slight breeze that caused the old structures to creak, which made the place feel alive. If we'd been there at night, it would have been really creepy.

From Canfranc, we then drove to the nearby ski resort of Candanchú. Of course, there wasn't much action there in the summer, but there were some cool views.

Next, we headed for a monastery. On the way we stopped at a little town called Santa Cruz de la Serós, famous for its First Romanesque churches. We chatted with the church's caretaker for un ratito (a bit), and then we stopped for a drink at this cool fountain.

Next, we made our way up a hill by car to get to the Monasterio San Juan de la Peña. We turned some heads because normally you're supposed to park at the bottom and hike up, but my boot-cast gave us an excuse to not make the pilgrimage. Alberto kept reminding me to slow down and not look so capable. The monastery is built into the bottom of a tall cliff. Legend has it that a saint fell from the top, yet God saved his life, so he dedicated the place to Him; the monastery became one of the most important in Aragon in the Middle Ages.

Unfortunately, we didn't get to go inside because it was closed, but I managed to get the shot above left through a barred peephole. From the monastery, we returned to Jaca to relax for the remainder of the day. The next morning, we were back on the road. After driving a couple hours, we stretched our legs at another water hole that Alberto knew about. This one had a view of some ruins of a medieval bridge. Our next stop was the Mallos de Riglos, which are these giant rock formations hovering above a little town.

We strolled around that little town for a while before heading to our principle destination, the Castillo de Loarre, the best-preserved Romanesque fortress in the Europe and a filming site of Kingdom of Heaven.

It's not hard to imagine why this site was chosen for the fortress.

After exploring the castle, we had a simple but very good lunch (lomo, if I remember correctly) in a nearby town, and then we drove around the capital city of the province, Huesca. Since it was a Sunday, the city seemed deserted.

Then we went back to the Pyrenees, stopping at another ski resort called Panticosa (I chuckled, of course, because it sounds like "pantyhose") where Alberto told me about all the amazing hiking we could have done if I hadn't screwed up my ankle. The following is picture of a nearby view.

Afterwards, we went to the ventas (sales) on the border of Spain and France, where Alberto stocked up on some lemon cookies that he's obsessed with.

And that sums up our second full day in Aragón. The next morning we cleaned up the flat and headed for France, driving through the Pyrenees, and making several stops for photos along the way. We drove and drove until we reached a beach to the north of Bayonne.

This entire suburb was so beach-y. Everyone was wearing swimsuits even if they weren't near the beach, and there were surf shops galore. On top of all that, everything was very French. We looked around for a while to try to find some good deals on clothes. There wasn't much to be found. As the afternoon went on, we headed for Bayonne itself, where we walked around and basked in the utter Frenchness of it all. We also dined on crepes. What else?

About a week before I had been at a creperie in Missouri with Val, and we ordered an orange suzette crepe, so I had to order the same thing here to compare. They were extremely different, though I wouldn't say that one was better than the other. In France, my crepe came with rum en flambe.

Sleepily, we drove all the way back to Bilbao that night, but I don't remember if I ended up at Bryan's house that night or the next day.

3 weeks in OK, 5 months ago

2011-11-22T16:51:00.000-06:00

I was planning on skipping over Oklahoma in my blogging, but I got to typing and just couldn't.

What I left off of the end of the last post is that on my way to the Bilbao airport to catch my flight to Oklahoma, I broke my ankle! I was going down the stairs in Bryan's apartment building, and I was in too much of a hurry and carrying too many things to worry about hitting the light switch. Big mistake. I fell, and more worried about the wine bottles in my suitcase breaking, I didn't think fast enough to fall in a more graceful position. My ankle was smashed into the corner of one of the steps. I had left my keys upstairs where everyone was sleeping, and I had a flight to catch, so I figured I'd just duke out the pain.

Worst. Travel. Experience. Ever.

Twenty-four long hours of travel on three different planes. Twice, I had to get off the plane, wait for and recheck my baggage, and then wait several hours for the next segment of my flight. All with a throbbing leg on which I hobbled as little as possible. When I got to Dallas, I called Mom to give her an update and make sure there'd be someone to pick me up in OKC. When I arrived in OKC, Monica, Meredith, Mom, and Malory (too many M's!) were waiting for me. Seeing my pain, they found me a wheel chair and we had several giggles as they took turns wheeling me through the airport.

pushed by my niece, Malory

It was great to be home, but it sucked to be in pain. I thought I'd wait a few days to see if it was only a bad sprain, but when it didn't seem to be improving, we went to the doctor for an x-ray. There was a hairline fracture on the cuboid bone, and they assigned me to wear a walking boot-cast for 4 weeks. The boot, though bulky, kept me from moving the ankle, so it was actually a lot easier to walk with it, but it was still a little difficult to get around.

I was able to spend quality time with my whole family. The younguns were bigger and knew more words. Malory was just as sassy as ever. I bought a new and less grabbable camera, so I was able to document some. Mark was also in town, so it was cool to see him again and hear about life as a 14-year-old.


Me with all my nieces and nephews: (L2R) Mark, Ashlyn, Weston, Malory, and Presley

I got to see a lot of Mom and Meredith. At some point, Cambria, Kendra, and Lacey from OBU, drove to Moore to visit me, and it was great to catch up. I also saw several friends from church who I'd missed. Mere got to show me off to her work buddies, and we went to the Mont with Becca. I'm sure there's much more, but after all, this was five months ago.

The highlight of the trip was spending the 4th of July with my family in Springfield, MO, where Val and Jamie live. We went out for creps, saw the "Guggenheim of Springfield" AKA the Bass Pro Shop, chased chickens, tracked down a watering hole, lit up fireworks, and many other shenanigans. On the night of the 4th, we went to watch the fireworks, and we made complete fools out of ourselves, on purpose, which is the best way to make a fool out of oneself, by oo-ing and aw-ing at each firework, among several other utterances.

Malory in the top middle, then L2R Monica, Meredith, and Valerie

The four of us agree that there's no one who makes us laugh more than each other.

Soon after the 4th, it was time to head back to Spain. This time, I had a walking boot-cast to help me out. I didn't have to recheck my baggage a single time, and I slept the entire trip from Chicago to Frankfurt, waking just in time for breakfast, thanks to two little presents from the best grandma ever.

Best. Travel. Experience. Ever.

My friend Alberto picked me up at the airport, and I ended up spending the night with him since I couldn't get into Bryan's house. More about adventures with Alberto in the next post.

Mediterranean Tour with Connor

2011-10-24T18:31:00.001-05:00

Sorry, no pictures in this one, just long, boring text. You'll find out why toward the end.

This will be the first of a few posts trying to get up to date. All summer I was moving around a lot and didn't have a permanant place to live. It all started on a whim the last day of April. I had to decide whether I would stay where I was living or leave it to chance, trusting that I’d find a place in due time. I decided to risk it. May was my last month in that apartment. Connor came to visit the last week of May and stayed with Bryan. By the end of the month, I was, too.

June 1 will go down as one of the most stressful days of my life. We hadn’t communicated well enough, I guess, and we ended up leaving Bryan’s later that we expected, but it wasn’t a big deal because we still had plenty of extra time …or so we thought. We missed the first bus to Santander, but it would be no problem to take the second bus. That bus was stuck in traffic and arrived thirty minutes late. We arrived at the airport 20 minutes before our flight was scheduled to leave. This might not have been a problem, but we had to check Connor’s giant back, and Ryanair makes a simple process ten times as complicated. We reached the front of the line and after calling the luggage-packers the woman told us, “Sorry, you’ve missed your flight.” NOOOO! After all that planning, I had no idea what I’d do next. Thankfully, one of us decided that we should go to the gate anyway. We ran through the terminal and the kind flight attendants at the gate were able to check Connor’s back for us, and we made our flight!

I was so relieved when I sat down in the plane that I struck up a friendly conversation with the Italian woman next to me. She had a fear of flying and shared her Bach Flower Remedy with me. I found out from google later what it was exactly, basically a placebo mixed with brandy.

We arrived that afternoon to Pisa, conveniently walked from the airport to our hostel, and checked in. It was probably one of the nicest hostels I’ve ever been to. Along with a ton of other services, it included a full kitchen so that you could make your own meals.

Afterward, we went to the touristy part of Pisa, the “mall” as they call it. We didn’t go up the tower (too expensive and too long of a line), but we did go into the cathedral and the baptistery. The baptistery offered a really pretty view of the cathedral and while inside, a man who appeared to be an ordinary guard started belting out a tune to demonstrate the acoustic qualities of the building. I was impressed. His one voice turned into what sounded like an entire men’s choir. I had to look around to make sure no one else was singing.

The next morning we took the train to La Spezia, a nearby city with less tourists. There I had my first focaccia, and I took advantage of the wealth of cappuccinos. We walked to the ocean and back, taking in the Italian atmosphere, before hopping back on the train to get to the first city of the cinqua terre (“the five lands”).

Despite all of the tourism, Riomaggiore was really pretty. From there we took the “walk of love” to the the second land, Manarola. This city I remember most for its incredible view of the brightly colored buildings at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking the ocean. Though they have similar views, this city’s was easily the best and most memorable. I don’t remember anything interesting being in the third city, Corniglia. The fourth, Vernazza, is known for its shopping opportunities (shopportunities? J), but I will always remember it for the licorice gelato that I tried. Yum. In the final city, Monterosso al Mare, we bought some more foccacia as a late lunch, and then we chilled on the beach. I hadn’t brought any trunks, so I bought some, and then Connor and I took a dip.

As the sun was setting we realized we still had a lot of time left in the day, so we took the train another city over, to Sestre Levante. I very possibly enjoyed this down-to-earth Italian city more than the overly-toured cinqua terre. We walked along the beach and port there for a while and then found a place to have dinner. As the sun was setting over the ocean, I had a romantic pizza dinner in Italy with my two buds. On our way back to the train station we stopped for gelato. I got the “frutti di bosco” flavor, and it was the best I’d ever had.

The next day we decided on a whim to go to Lucca in the morning. Connor thought it was really boring, but I really liked the feeling of the city. The main part of it was surrounded by a medieval wall. Nearly everyone there had a bike, and it seemed to be a city with a character all its own. I was glad we went, if for no other reason, to let Bryan see a place he’d never been before.

After Lucca, we trained it to Viareggio, a coastal town near Pisa. We walked to the beach, then looked for something to eat to bring with us. After walking in the sand forever, we realized that we were never going to reach a public beach. So we plopped down at one of the private areas and payed a little bit to use their facilities. We chilled there on the beach for a while and swam before getting rained on.

Train back to Pisa, then we took another train to Rome. I don’t exactly remember how it all went down, but we accidently ended up on the first class train and didn’t have to pay for it. It was really nice. All three of us were able to lie down 180º in a private coach.

We arrived late in the evening to Rome, but fortunately my and Connor’s hostel was nearby. Unfortunately, it was overpriced, overcrowded, and had very few services. Connor and I found an overpriced kebab for dinner.

We squeezed nearly all the sights into Saturday: P. della Republica, P. Venezia, the Roman forum, the Colosseum, P. Popolo, P. Spagna, Fontagna di Trevi, Castello San Angelo, Basilica S. Pedro. We had lunch at Sugu, my favorite restaurant from my last visit. I had fresh pasta, but I didn’t like it nearly as much as the gnocci. That night we made another pasta dinner in the hostel with Bryan before he had to leave, followed by a game of Fluxx.

The next morning, Connor and I went inside the Colosseum. One of the best decisions we made was buying the ROMA Pass, which allowed us to not only take all the public transportation without paying but also skip the line when entering the Coliseum. Afterward, we went the catacombs of San Callisto. The catacombs never disappoint.

That afternoon we met with our first Couchsurfing host of the trip. His name was Andrew, and he was a post-graduate student from Colorado. He’d been living in Italy a while, so he knew Italian very well and was familiar with the local haunts of Rome. After getting settled into to his amazing apartment, we went out for bruschetta, pizza, and beer at a restaurant east of Termini, followed by gelato, of course. This time I chose the cinnamon, another excellent choice.

On Monday, Connor and I packed some lunches and headed to the Vatican museum. We spent several hours exploring all the galleries. Finally, in the courtyard area of the museum, we sat at a table and gobbled up the sandwiches we’d prepared. Then I let Connor take the reins. He wanted to get some souvenirs, so we tracked down the Disney store and the Hard Rock Café. For dinner that night, Andrew took as to a restaurant famous for its artichokes. Yum. We also got various pastas that were simple yet satisfying. Then we went to yet another gelato place. At this one, I finally found my favorite flavor that I hadn’t been able to find since I left Buenos Aires. I forget the Italian word, but in Spanish it’s called sambayon.

The next morning we successfully made it to the airport and out of Rome to the Spanish city of Valencia. From my first jaunt through the city, I loved it and could see myself living there. We walked around the central part of the city for a while, and then I let Connor experience the Spanish “menu del día”. He ordered some sort of pork dish that begins with an “o” and he wouldn’t stop talking about how much he enjoyed it. Our Couchsurfing host wouldn’t be able to meet us until later, so we decided to go to the famous aquarium. When we arrived, we only had an hour to see the whole place and it started pouring down, so it was a faced-paced trip through the exhibits, and when we went outside, we nearly became fish ourselves. It was, however, an incredible museum, the best I’ve been to. There were several parts that you could walk through or crawl into, and you’d be completely surrounded by water and fish.

After that we finally met Pablo. It was his first time to host a Couchsurfer, and he was really enthusiastic. There was an interesting dynamic because Pablo didn’t speak English, and Connor didn’t speak Spanish, so I had to, or got to, go back and forth, and play translator from time-to-time. I enjoyed having the power to tone down anything embarrassing or inappropriate that Connor said. After talking a while, Pablo took us to a really fancy restaurant on the beach, where we had an authentic Valencian paella, complete with rabbit meat. As starters, we also had some little clams that were pretty good.

The next day, Connor and I wondered around the City of Arts and Sciences to look at the other buildings, and then we went to the beach, where we got rained out for the third time on Connor’s trip. We went back to the city and explored the Lonja and the Central Market. Later, we met up with Pablo and a few of his friends. He wanted to show us off to his coworkers and prove that we were normal, since many people are skeptical of the kind of people who travel via Couchsurfing. All of us went to the neighborhood called “horchata”, where the famous drink originated, and we drank the drink, made of chufas, translated into English as “tiger nuts.” Between these and fartons, a sweet bread stick that you dip in the horchata, Connor and I had many a giggle. For dinner, Connor and I made Pablo some quesadillas and guacamole. Pablo seemed to be especially impressed with how easy it was to make guacamole, and he planned to make it again in the future.

On Thursday morning, too soon, Connor and I left Valencia by bus, arriving in Madrid five hours later. We crammed a lot into our first day here as well. We saw the Puerta del Sol, Plaza Nueva, el Palacio Real, and more as I played tour guide to Connor and some girls we met in the metro. I think they were Russian. As we were looking for a place to have lunch, we ran into a professional tour guide, and we spent the rest of the afternoon following her. At first she showed all the same stuff I had just showed, but with more detail, of course. She showed us La Latina, the suicide bridge, the cathedral, the palacio, puerta del sol, and the tour finally ended in the barrio called Letras, which was filled with all sorts of names that I recognized from my Spanish literature classes. Then Connor and I went to the Prado museum, where I got to see all the Goyas that I missed last time. After the museum, we strolled through Retiro Park, ending at the Puerta de Alcalá, so that I could look at the bullet holes.

Finally, we went back to the bus station to get our luggage, and from the bus station we went to our last Couchsurfer’s house. On the way, the unthinkable happened. As I boarded our final metro train, a man started shouting at me. Before I knew what had happened, the metro doors were closing, and I no longer had my camera. This was the camera I’d bought after my last one was stolen in the Buenos Aires metro. Ugh. Duped twice. I was really angry and disappointed in the world the rest of the day, but I tried to remain pleasant. After all, it could have been worse.

Emilio and his girlfriend Paloma were really cool. Our first night there, Emilio was already making us spaghetti.

The next morning, I filed a report at the police station, more as a formality than anything else. Then Connor and I went on a mini food tour. We had napolitanas, bocadillos de calamaris, and chocolate con churros. We also went to the Plaza de España, and the Templo de Debod, where Connor and I relaxed on a park bench and played Word Scramble on his iPhone. Out of ideas, we went back to Emilio’s apartment and had a siesta before dinner. Emilio and Paloma, took us to Lavapies for tapas en lavapies. First we had a giant Galician sandwich and Galician wine, followed by patatas bravas and real sangria. We joined the two to a concert that one of their friends was in. It’s interesting to note that English is the language of rock, so even Spaniard rockers still use English lyrics, even if their audience has no idea what they’re saying.

The next day, a Saturday, I accompanied Connor to the airport and then I took a bus back to Bilbao. I stayed at Bryan’s for a few more days before coming to Oklahoma. I spent the remainder of June and the beginning of July with my family before returning to Spain for more adventures.

May Weekend Excursions

2011-06-28T01:09:00.002-05:00

May, may, may. After two weeks of vacation, most of May felt like nonstop work, and I looked forward to every weekend. The first of three excursions was with Adrian, Ainara, and Alberto. In the morning we visited the magnificent caves of Pozalagua. These caves are famous for their unique stalactites and crystal formations. It's one of only two locations in the world that has stalactites that grow every which way, resembling roots. There are several theories as to how these form, but they've practically stumped geologists. Since I wasn't allowed to take photos, you should definitely click on the link above to check out the awesomeness. When we emerged from the caves, we gazed on some nearby stunning views.

Spelunking buddies

Then, we had lunch in a beautiful location next to a small hermitage with rolling hills all around us. I brought PB&J, and we all shared some of our food. I hadn't slept much the night before, so I was especially thankful for Adrian's Pepsi with extra caffeine. After lunch we journeyed to the cave of Covalanas. Unlike the previous cave, this one is known for its prehistoric cave paintings.

There's so much more I could say about this long Saturday of exploration, but I'll keep it short. Afterward, we strolled for a while along the beach of Laredo before having a pizza dinner at Alberto's brother's crazy cool flat. Adrian said it well when he said that it felt like several days in one.

Another Saturday, I met a group of Couchsurfing friends at a metro stop, and we went to the beach of Gorliz, where there's a picnicking spot. I brought my famous chocolate chip cookies. (Thanks to Mom for bringing me chocolate chips and brown sugar!) We played some Frisbee --until people started using it as a plate-- and some other game similar to croquet but where you through the balls. Master chef Iban took the picnic as an opportunity to perfect his 12-egg Spanish omelet. For your enjoyment, I've recorded the crucial moment:

CS buds: Adrian, Mikel, Ute, Alexandra, Itxaso, and Pilar

After lunch some of us decided to take our first dip of the year ...in the ocean!!! The water was frigid as all get out, but riding the waves was still really fun. I can't wait to go back when it's warmer. I managed to leave in time to arrive casually late to Kata's last pintxo poteo, basically going out on the town for some fancy snacks. One highlight of the night was hilariously linking elbows and owning the sidewalks for change, making the bilbaínos move for us. The next day, Kata, Bryan, Esmeralda, and I wandered around Vitoria, capital city of País Vasco.

Kata & Esme in one of Vitoria's most important plazas.

For lunch we split a few raciones. One of my favorites is chipirones: fried baby squid. I must admit, before popping the little sucker in my mouth, I feel a twinge of sympathy for its mother.

Thanks to Kata for her hand modeling.

And the last weekend of May was when Connor came to visit. The two of us joined Alberto and Adrian to the famed "source of the Nervión." The Nervión is the river that runs through Bilbao, and its source was this incredible area of very high, steep cliffs.

Pose inspired by Bryan

Around the same area there was some amazing wildlife: an enormous, brightly colored snail and thousands of tadpoles congregating in a single water hole. I appreciated the fact that Alberto didn't know the Spanish word for "tadpole" because he was raised using the Basque word: "sapaburu" which means "toad head."

We chose a nearby area to have the lunch we'd brought with us, and then we went to the town of Alberto's childhood. From the town, we walked onto a large field toward a hermitage. On the way, a herd of skeptical cows stared us down. From the hermitage, we slowly hiked up a nearby mountain ridge. It was exhausting, but rewarding when we finally made it to the top.

Not sure if this one follows the "Rule of 9" but Connor and I like it.

These peaks are called the Peaks of the Three Kings. We managed to make it back to the car before the fog came in and made us lose our way.

Alberto thinking he can pull off my sweet cap and Adrian

May was also a month of goodbyes. Namely, Kata returned to North Carolina and won't be coming back for a second year of teaching, along with Jessica N., Ally, Pinky, Claire, and several other fellow auxiliares who were like substitute family for those long 9 months. I also made May my last month in my apartment, so when I return in July I'll be looking for a new place. Finally, I finished teaching at IES Unamuno. My high-school kids were mostly really sweet. The best of them gave me a merendola, complete with an array of chips, tortilla de patata, and bizcotxo. One class, encouraged by their teacher, even sang "Oklahoma!" to me, singing "OklaThomas" instead. The worst of them refused to participate in a game, so after some unsuccessful goading, I decided I didn't have to put up with their crap, and I just left. I'm looking forward to teaching adults come October.

"Tre' gallega' y un va'co"

2011-05-31T13:41:00.001-05:00

Over a month ago, I went to Andalucía, and I'm finally updating you on my adventures.

Saturday before Semana Santa (Holy Week), I flew from Santander to Málaga, and arrived in the middle of the night. This was a disaster as Málaga has no public transportation at this time. Outside the airport, I stood in front of the taxis and approached an old couple who agreed to split one with me. However, when I got to my hostel, there was no one there to check me in, even though I'd previously told them when I'd arrive. So that I wouldn't have to sleep on a bench in the bus station, I found a cheap(ish) hotel and stayed there for the night before meeting the girls the next morning. The girls I traveled with the rest of the week were Andrea, who studied Spanish with me at OBU; Kelsey, her roommate; and Sarit, who went to college with Kelsey. All three of them are English assistants like me, but they are teaching in Galicia.

Granada

Granada has easily become my favorite Andalusian city. The girls were really chill, and our hostel was comfortable enough, albeit a little out-of-the-way. We spent our first day simply strolling around the various neighborhoods. Granada is known for the Alhambra, a historic Moorish fortress. We'd tried to reserve tickets to get inside, but they were sold out over a month in advance. However, they're required to sell a few hundred at the door each morning. The guidebooks suggested arriving at 7:30am. Foreseeing that it wouldn't be that easy, I left the girls to sleep in, and got in line at 6:20. There were already around 70 people in front of me. Within a quarter of an hour or so, the line doubled, and by 8:00, there were thousands, but only the first 300 of us got tickets. The girls met me in line later, and were extremely thankful.

We spent the whole afternoon in the Alhambra. I must say that although the Palace was spectacular, my favorite part was the Generalife gardens. Later that evening, we saw a flamenco show in the gypsy barrio Sacramonte along with dozens of middle-aged Russians. I'd always expected flamenco to be smooth and flowy, but it was completely different: fast-paced, intense, and loud.

Throughout the week, I saw a mogollón of processions. The processions include the capuchinos (the ones who resemble KKK members; they go by several other names as well), pasos (floats of Mary or Jesus carried on the shoulders of several men), and sometimes penitents (carrying crosses) and/or veiled women. Over the course of the week the Jesus pasos play out the various scenes of Passion week. The processions are a big deal in Andalucía. In each city, there were several processions happening day and night. and we were bound to run into them if we wanted to or not. The capuchinos wear different colors, depending on the cofradía (religious brotherhood) they belong to.

Another thing I must mention about Granada is the amazing tapas. Throughout our stay we took advantage of this free food that comes with a drink. In Bilbao, we probably would have paid five times as much for all we ate.

Córdoba
Though we only spent a day here, I enjoyed Córdoba as well. When we arrived, the Mezquita was closed, so we explored the rest of the city, including a synagogue and Plaza de los Capuchinos.

A highlight of Andalucía was discovering new foods and drinks that they don't have up north. Below I show fino (a kind of sherry), olives that I actually liked because they didn't taste so olivey, and salmorejo (a cold, tomato-based soup, served thicker than gazpacho).

The next morning we saw the famous mosque-turned-cathedral, la Mezquita. Inside was an incredible blend of Christian and Muslim language, architecture, religion, and art.

Sevilla
I have less to say about Sevilla because comparatively, we didn't see much of the city. We spent our first day there reminiscing with some people that Sarit and Kelsey knew from their university.

We watched another procession, and then we met up with our Couchsurfing host, who lived a good twenty minutes outside of the city by car. He was a great guy who showed us good times, despite the rain that ruined our plans for seeing the rest of Sevilla. We did, however, see the really cool Plaza de España, which artistically recognizes each of the provinces of Spain.

Ronda
From Sevilla, we headed back to Málaga so the girls could catch their flight, but I still had another day to kill. I got ripped off by the same hostel as before and checked into another hotel. I spent most of the evening exploring the city of Málaga by night. I walked to the beach and then tried to track down some processions before having a drink with a girl from Couchsurfing. Needless to say, Málaga doesn't even deserve its own bold paragraph heading in this post.

The next morning, the day of my flight, I could either take a bus to and from the white hill town of Ronda or stay in miserable Málaga. I chose the former, and it was one of the best decisions of my life. The city was beautiful and had amazing views. And, this being my first time to do a solo excursion, I felt uncontainable and free to follow every whim. Whimsically, I found a trail that led to the bottom of the gargantuan gorge, and followed it deep below the gradually growing flurry of touristic traffic above. I only spent three hours in Ronda, but I don't regret a minute of it.

And there we have it. I spent the rest of the day traveling back to Bilbao and enjoyed a peaceful second week of vacations.

March Momness

2011-04-16T08:13:00.001-05:00

Before I start out on a new adventure in Andalucía, I'll quickly catch you up-to-date. I hope you don't mind the brevity.

Madrid
Mom arrived in Madrid and I met her there. Though I'd been living in Spain over five months, this was my first time to explore the city as well. In three days we managed to see all the main tourist attractions and eat all the main touristy foods.

Attractions we visited: Plaza mayor, Puerto del sol, Palacio real, museos Prado y Reina Sofía, el Parque Retiro, and several others I'm sure.

El oso y el madroño, symbol of Madrid

Retiro Park

Mom with a Joán Miró statue in the Reina Sofía museum

Spanish treats: napolitanas (chocolate-filled pastries), churros con chocolate, squid sandwiches, turron ice cream, sangria, and paella. However, my favorite meal was of course the Indian food on Calle Lavapies.

Toledo
One of the most famous medieval cities of Spain, especially known for its blending of Islam, Jewish, and Christian culture. Highlights were looking at the city itself and its incredibly ornate cathedral.

Since we came during the week of Carnaval, we stumbled upon an annual festivity that I'd never heard of: the burial, or wake, of the sardine. After a parade through the city, they blow the fish up with fireworks. This festival marks the end of the carnality of Carnaval before Lent begins. How a sardine came to represent the flesh? Who knows...

San Sebastián - Donostia
We took a day trip out to the capital of Guipuzkoa, called San Sebastián (in Spanish) or Donostia (in Basque). This city is known for its gastronomic culture and incredible beach. Mom and I had our fill of pintxos and were taunted by the beautiful beach that was still too cold to enjoy.

Bilbao - Bilbo
Back in my hometown I was able to show Mom the awesome place I've been living. It was like a grown-up version of Open House. The pictures below show some of our adventures. I took Mom up the funicular to Artxanda where we enjoyed a view, cider, and apple pie. Mom also had at least one tortilla española, and several more pintxos, including my favorite mushroom pintxo found on the classy street of Somera. I introduced Mom to kalimotxo as well, one of the region's most popular beverages.

Another day we went to Portugalete and walked along the ports to the world's first hanging bridge. From there we made our way to Sopelana's beaches, which was much further from the metro stop than I'd anticipated. I'm still apologizing to Mom for that trek.

Finally, Mom got to experience Bilbao's #1 attraction, the Guggenheim museum. Luckily the audio guides were free that day, and they were pleasantly informative of the artwork.

Near Bermeo

A weekend or two after Mom left, Kata, Bryan, and I accompanied Roberto, Bryan's flatmate, to his country home for a cookout. On the way, we played some tennis (or just bounced tennis balls off walls with rackets), traversed a marsh, and glanced at the Painted Forest of OMA (which glanced back).

San Juan de Gaztelugatxe

Our most recent excursion was to a beautiful old hermitage. You can read more about our misadventures on Kata's blog. Fortunately, my experience wasn't quite as miserable as hers.

Classes are going well. Private lessons are keeping me busy and giving me valuable teaching experience, while lessons at the school are teaching me how to improvise and entertain a hostile audience. The last four lessons I've done have been more interactive and fun for everyone, and I'll have to think of four more to match their fun level. They've included Mad Libs; team Scattergories played by throwing around a hamburger dog toy; Telephone using nursery rhymes and a little bit of racing; and Big Booty, a rhythm game which I modified and renamed Chunky Monkey, to teach animal sounds.

Ocean, Mountains, and Free Health Care

2011-03-01T18:26:00.000-06:00

What do they all have in common? They're not in Oklahoma.

I can't believe I haven't blogged since the Italy trip. It's been nearly two months, but I'll try to sum up my adventures and comment on some new things that have taken place.

Mostly, Bilbao has been rainy, but on those amazing weekends that was not, I took advantage of those precious hours. One weekend, Kata, Bryan, and I took a train the coastal cities of Bermeo and Mundaka. It was a relaxing day of sunshine and photography.

Café con leche in Bermeo

The Mundakan coast

A highlight of this trip was the rabas, fried squid, that we ate. Sorry, no photo.

A weekend or two later, I went with a group of Couchsurfers to Sopelana beach, just to the north of Bilbao. From there, we walked the day away along the coast to Getxo. As usual for a Couchsurfing event, I met a lot of new people from several places.

Sopelana

The whole group near the Getxo coast

And after another week or two, I hiked with three other guys from Couchsurfing, Mikel, Ricardo, and Simone, from a town called Otxandio, up the legendary mountain Anboto, and back down again to the city of Durango. This mountain is central in Basque folklore as the home of the goddess Mari. It was a pretty scary climb. At one point there were only a few meters of land to cross on with sharp drops on either side. One mindless step could have been fatal. I found out only afterward that several people have died from falling from Anboto, and no one who has fallen has ever survived. I'm glad I didn't hear that before I did it.

Gazing at the view from the peak of Mt. Anboto

The next weekend (or so) I came down with a sudden illness. I went to sleep on Friday night because of it and awoke Saturday morning with a fever and convinced that it was Thursday. So, I called my supervisor and told him I wouldn't be coming to work. Hearing my crazy talk, he said he would accompany me to the health clinic. Now I don't know all the ins-and-outs of the health care debate in the States, but here at least I've never had better service at the doctor. I didn't have to wait nearly as long as I have in the past at a doctor's office. I told them my symptoms, and they took x-rays, and a blood test, pumped something in my blood to temporarily lower my temperature, gave me the prescription, and I was on my way! And all I had to pay for were the inexpensive prescriptions: a fever reducer and an antibiotic.

Other changes since January:

Before Christmas, I had too much free time during the week and was starting to get bored. All that has changed. First, I've started working out in a nearby gym with Bryan, which gives me a little something extra to do most days. Having someone to go with who knows what he's doing makes it infinitely less dreadful, and I've been enjoying it more than I expected.

I also lost some clients from last fall, and I started looking for more. To date, I now have a total of 6 private students, mostly adults at an intermediate level of English, which gives me 8 hours of work every week, along with 1 other client who I'll see every week or two, due to his schedule as a nurse. The others are two girls from church, the man who lives above me (a music teacher), a young female scientist, and a mature retired secretary. Needless to say, I like these students much more than the ones at my school. However, even work at the school is going better, as I learn what things keep the students engaged and adapt to the various levels of ability and interest.

I've also met a ton of new people within and outside of Couchsurfing. When I came home from Italy, there was a strange Japanese girl in my apartment. Turns out she started living there while I was gone, and one of the other girls moved out. Her name is Yuki, and she's very outgoing and knows and has introduced me to a lot of the other international students here. I also met a Romanian through Facebook, who I invited to weekly language exchange at the Irish bar here. Another weekly language exchange group through Couchsurfing has also cropped up, and I've been taking advantage of that, too.

So, I'm enjoying Spain more than ever, and I'm looking forward to Mom's visit to Spain next week while I'm off work. Cross your fingers that we get good weather.

Romesienaflorencepisabolognaveniceveronamilan

2011-01-14T10:00:00.001-06:00

Yep, that's where I went, and it happened so fast that they really are starting to blur together in my mind. Luckily I have pictures to remind me what happened where. But there are several things that my camera could not capture, either because no photos were allowed to be taken, it would have been inappropriate to take a photo, or it happened within my inner dialogue.

Bilbao

On the morning before leaving Bilbao, there was a fair going on called Santo Tomás. I couldn't pass up visiting a fair bearing my own name, so I went, and it was very Basque, including all the goods I saw on market day in Gernika. Talos, sidra, and txakoli were all also being sold. I bought a talo de lomo, but was very disappointed in it.

Basque men making talos

After the fair, we flew to Rome. Travel was a little difficult because a few days before we left, the arch of my left foot started hurting really bad when I was walking. My one heavy bag didn't help. So, I took every opportunity to sit, hoping that it would heal on its own. It did gradually stop hurting, but not until after a week into the trip. Many thanks to my patient friends and Tylenol.

Rome

I was in charge of finding accommodations for this trip, and I learned many lessons. Our first priority was price, so I found the cheapest places to stay in each city. I was optimistic about taking advantage of CouchSurfing and meeting native Italians while staying in their homes. Finding hosts willing to host four people was very difficult, but I found them in Rome and Florence. Unfortunately in Rome, the metro line that led to our host's apartment was down for maintenance, so arriving there from the city center meant nearly an hour's journey involving two metro lines, a bus, and a little bit of walking. Yes, it was near the beach, but it was cold, cloudy, rainy the whole time. Our host, Fabrizio, was nice, but quiet. He seemed like he had had so many guests, that we were just other passing faces. If we tried to start a conversation, he wouldn't let it get very far. On the upside, we had a key to his apt. and could come and go as we pleased. A big downside was that his apt. was pretty small, and we all crammed onto his hideaway bed, doable the first night with three people, but nearly impossible the next night with four people. Fabrizio lived as if he did not have guests. He really didn't even have dishes for us to use. There were only enough for him, and though they were in the cupboard, they were not clean. And one night, we came back from a day of tourism to find him nonchalantly sitting at the table in his tighty-whities and a t-shirt. Fabrizio is also a Buddhist and meditates in a small closet of a room for an hour every morning. One house rule is that we could not kill any living thing while we were in his house. While Fabrizio wasn't home on Christmas Eve, I was on my computer when an annoying fruit fly started buzzing around my head. I clapped it in my hands, and after a millisecond of triumphant satisfaction, I gasped and looked up at Bryan in horrified guilt. Then we broke into laughter. Primarily because of transportation limitations on Christmas, we cut our stay short with him and spent our last night in Rome in a hostel.

I didn't know what all there was to see in Rome, but I had just finished reading the portion of The Count of Monte Cristo that is set in Rome, so I was excited about visiting the famous places that the book mentioned. Of course, it mentioned the Colosseum. I walked past it every day, and I'd planned on going inside, but on Christmas Eve it closed early I couldn't. Piazza del Popolo was another important part of the story, and an impressive plaza. I could imagine all the scenes I had read taking place there. Piazza di Spagna (the Spanish steps) and Castel San Angelo are also briefly mentioned, and I visited those on Christmas day. Lastly, I didn't want to leave Rome without seeing the catacombs. There are in fact several catacombs in Rome, but only a few are open to the public. Alexander Dumas helped me narrow down my choices to the catacombs of San Sebastian, where the Viscount Morcerf was held captive by Luigi Vampa. We reached these by taking a bus down the Appian Way, which is apparently the road the Apostle Paul took to enter Rome (Acts 28:15). We took an informative tour of the 'combs. I learned many things about the Christians in Rome under Diocletian. It was basically a grid of tunnels in which dead Christians were buried in the walls because their families wanted to preserve their bodies but avoid religious persecution. I don't remember the numbers --they were high and in the metric system-- but there are miles and miles of these tunnels, and the ones we visited had several layers.

I must also mention other Roman tourist sites that I visited, such as the Pantheon, the Trevi fountain (Yes, I did throw a coin in), and the circus maximus. As my foot was in possibly the most pain of the trip, I visited St. Peter's Basilica and its respective plaza. The Basilica itself is the largest church in the world. I almost wished that I were Catholic so that I could appreciate it more as something nearly divine. I also went under the church and saw the graves of deceased popes including the traditional burial site of Saint Peter. Later, I went to the Vatican Museum, which was incredible. Rooms after rooms of statues, paintings, tapestries, and gardens. I enjoyed many interesting statues that made me wonder what the sculptor was thinking.

There was so much art that by the end of it I was all art-ed out. In the courtyard of the pine cone, Sergio and I helped a group of policemen take their picture. As a reward, they gave us both Santa hats. My hat became the only way that my friends could pick me out in a crowd, so even if I took it off, they'd ask me to put it back on, which I didn't mind of course. One of the things I couldn't take a picture of was the famous Sistine Chapel, but the light was so dim in the chapel that I wouldn't have been able to get a decent one if I tried. The intricacy was incredible but I couldn't fully appreciate it without knowledge of the structure and characters, time to look for them all, and binoculars.

Rome gave me my first impression of Italy as whole. I had my first Italian pizza, cappuccino, and gelato there. On Christmas day, I had the best pasta dish of the trip in a restaurant called Sugo near Piazza Navona. The dish is called gnocchi, which is potato-stuffed pasta. The thing that made it extraordinary was the sauce. The restaurant had great food, good service, and was decently priced; everything a tourist could ask for. If I find myself in Rome again, I will make a point to return.

bad English = great restaurant!

Christmas evening, Bryan and I stopped by a small cafe/bar. He had set his things down at a counter on the wall for a few seconds as we ordered. When he looked back, his brand new iPhone 4 was gone! There was a couple who was in the bar shortly while we were there, and somehow they had taken it undetected. We raced back to our hostel, where we were able to track the thieves on Bryan's computer. Bryan tried to go after them, but they turned the phone off and we could no longer track it. We were planning on using the phone as our GPS in the rest of our travels, and the robbery put a damper on Christmas. Meanwhile, I got to know our hostel roommate better. He was from the United States and had been living in Rome for three months, looking for a woman who he said was his soul mate but brainwashed into captivity by the Church. Brad was a hippie like I've never met before, and also very Catholic, yet he also harbored several conspiracy theories against the Church. The next morning, we rented our car and drove up the boot to our next city.

Siena

Unfortunately, we made it to Siena as the sun was going down, and we were expected in Florence by our next CSing host, so we could only spend a few hours there. It was much colder than Rome had been, but we saw some of the main sights that surround the main plaza of the city. I will always associate Siena with the best pizza that I've had in my life: Italian sausage and mushroom, from just a normal pizza store, but it was freshly made and incredible.

Florence

In Florence, our CS host, Leonardo, was the complete opposite of Fabrizio. First, if Leonardo wasn't in his apartment, we couldn't be either. That meant getting up earlier so he could get to work on time. Fabrizio also wanted us to have dinner together every night to participate in a cultural meal exchange. Our first night, he served us a two course meal of noodles followed by a lamb stew. Leo seemed to say everything with a smile, and he said a lot, even though he made a lot of mistakes. Our second night Bryan and I made chili, and Leo was shocked that we would prepare a one course meal. The third night, some Chinese girls who arrived later made Chinese dumplings and Saraí and Sergio made burritos. Each morning with Leo, he served us a slice of a giant muffin called panetonne and tea. We learned through conversation that his wife had died recently and since then, he had been coping by hosting CSers nonstop. Our first morning with Leo, he gave us a tour of Fiesole, a part of Florence. He showed us an Etruscan wall, a view, a church, and a typical Tuscan garden, though I hardly remember any of his commentary. Our sleeping arrangements were much more comfortable at Leo's, and he was incredibly helpful. He even let us borrow an old GPS, which we used until Bryan replaced his iPhone.

After the tour, we had more independence. We were able to park in Piazza Michelangelo and from there walk to all the most important places of Florence, including the Ponte Vecchio, the most important plazas, and the duomo (cathedral). The next day I visited the Uffizi Museum. The line was at least a kilometer long, so I paid a few extra euros to set an appointment to enter. Inside there were works by Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and many many other famous artists.

Pisa

We knew beforehand that we didn't want to spend a whole day at Pisa, so we drove there, stopped a few hours to see the tower and its surrounding areas, and then went to Bologna. After seeing so many cathedrals in these cities, I noticed how each would have a bell tower and a baptistery, sometimes as separate buildings from the main cathedral. So I thought it was interesting the the famous leaning tower is simply the bell tower, an adjunct, to the cathedral of Pisa. The cathedral and baptistery are just as intricate as the leaning tower, yet don't share in its renown. I was shocked by the amount of tourists who happened to be there on the same day that we chose to come, and of course they all posed the way one does when you go to the tower.

Bologna

In Bologna I had arranged lodging at a hostel that we agreed felt like it used to be a school or a prison. We all had our own bed there which seemed to be quite a luxury. Unfortunately, what with the tilt of the earth during winter, by the time we went to the center of Bologna, it was already getting dark. However, I got a good feel for the city. I was dazzled by its portici (plural for portico). Bryan told us that he'd heard that you could walk from one end of the city to the other without getting wet because of all these covered walkways. I don't know why Bilbao didn't think of that. I might bet money that it rains more in Bilbao than in Bologna. We began with Europe's oldest university, and then we walked to the two towers, very slender and tall. They leaned quite a bit, and the shorter of the two had been shortened so that it didn't collapse. We also walked through the main plaza of Bologna. Later that night, we drove to the top of a hill where there was an eerie castle. We drove several kilometers, and yet there was a portico along the road the whole way there!

Venice

Our Venice lodging was in a lowest-stars-possible hotel in Mestre. When we made it to the island I was immediately assaulted with souvenirs and salesmen who tried to force the Venice experience on me. Instead of naturally experiencing what the city is all about, these vendors gave it away like an annoying person blurts out the twist in a psychological thriller at the beginning of the movie. I continued to be shocked by the quantity of tourists. It seemed to me that Venice was not the powerful city it once was, but instead a massive tourism machine in which each tourist group tries to pretend that the others are not there.

That said, the environment and beauty of the city is incredible, and I tried to imagine that I was there a century or two ago. All the merchandise in the stores were displayed very nicely, including some bizarre-looking treats. We saw the most important and famous bridges of Venice and the area surrounding Saint Mark's square. My favorite part of Venice was the Peggy Guggenheim Museum. It is not overwhelmingly big like the Louvre, but it contained a small collection of the kind of modern art that I enjoy most, including Dali, Kandinsky, Bacon, and Rothko to name a few. Outside the museum was a mind-trip mirror-glass thing that I loved.

The New Year's celebration was a bit of a let-down. It was very cold, and the entertainment was not entertaining. I had more fun talking to the Australian couple to my left and playing with a South American girl whose family was to my right. After the countdown the fireworks began, but I didn't get to see any of them due to the flood of people. Another highlight of Venice was a bar that I discovered that served hot wine. The first time we went there weren't very many people, and the lady working there let us sit without paying even though we just got one drink. There was also a charming little bird who lived in a pot that hung from the ceiling and entertained us by flying from table to table and looking at us skeptically.

Verona

On new year's day we arrived in Verona at the place we thought we'd stay. It turned out that the manager of that place had overbooked his rooms. So, he sent us to a friend's bed and breakfast that was nicer than where we would have stayed, but we didn't have to pay a higher price. After all our traveling, this B&B felt like luxury. We had a great pizza dinner that night at a pizza place within walking distance. During the day, we saw the city's main plazas and churches, along with the alleged home of Juliet Capulet, the worlds 3rd largest ancient arena, and the medieval Castelvecchio (old castle) with its interesting bridge. We also drove up a hill to watch the sun set over the city from the sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes.

After our first day there we decided to linger the next day, which allowed Bryan and I to visit an archaeological museum which was an ancient Roman theater and contained many interesting ruins and incredible views of the city.

Milan

Milan's low-budget hotel was decent, but cold at night. Everything in Milan is much more spread out than in any of the other cities we visited. Hence, we took advantage of the subway system. Milan is most famous for its duomo and fashion. We explored the main plaza where the duomo is, and went in the enormous Galeria Vittorio Emanuele II, with expensive things bearing names I've never cared about.

We wanted to see Da Vinci's Last Supper, but in the end we decided it wasn't worth the effort and money required to do so. The church next to the famous painting, though, displayed three corpses in glass coffins that was very creepy. The central corpse was the body of St. Ambrose, patron saint of Milan. The next day, we saw the Castello Sforzesco, along with the two main Milanese parks, and a famous arch. Later, Sergio, Bryan, and I took a tour of the stadium of A. C. Milan, famous Italian soccer team. Soccer isn't exactly something I follow, but the visit was worth it to see the interesting architecture of the stadium and the enthusiasm on the faces of Bryan and Sergio. And the next time I meet an A. C. Milan fan, I'll get to make him/her jealous!

That night we went to the Navigli canal district of Milan to get a taste of authentic Milan. This area was a pleasant escape from the world of tourism, and we found an amazing bar with a cheap but good all-you-can eat buffet. On our last day Bryan and I met a Russian girl named Elena on our way the monumental cemetery. After exploring the cemetery, we went inside and on top of the duomo. The inside reminded me of Moria, from LOTR. There were 247 steps up a narrow tower to the top of the duomo, but the incredible view and sunset was worth it.

Then, we went into the famous Scala theater and museum in which pictures were not allowed. It was interesting to see a theater with so much history, and the auditorium was beautiful. I could imagine all the families of the Milanese aristocracy entering their expensive boxes only to gossip about the other families throughout the program. That night we returned to our now favorite bar in Milan for dinner, and spent the rest of the night chatting with Elena.

Bilbao

Now I have just completed my first week back in Bilbao, and it is incredible how familiar and homey everything feels after spending two weeks in a constantly changing and unfamiliar environment. Also, after not understanding Italian for two weeks, I feel extra confident in my Spanish comprehension. I'm very optimistic about the semester as well. I have older students, and I plan to be more communicative with the professors I'm working with.

I'll be in Rome for Christmas. You can count on me.

2010-12-20T11:31:00.000-06:00

The beginning of December brought Christmas to Bilbao, or at least Christmas lights. This is Plaza Indautxu again, which I pass almost every day. Beautiful lights are up all over the city, which is making up for the cold weather. Though, when I say "cold," I'm sure it's worse in Oklahoma. The difference is that in OK, we just stay inside when it's cold, but here you can't do that very easily.

They didn't have a Thanksgiving break at the end of November, but we did get a 5-day weekend (called a puente) at the beginning of December. I spent a lot of quality time with Bryan, Ben, and Pinky. After hanging out in the Casco Viejo one night, we decided to take day trips to the coast. Our first stop? Lekeitio.

Lekeitio is a small coastal town with a nice beach. Of course it was too cold to really swim, but we walked through the frigid water with bare feet, except Ben, that is. At first I was dying to get to that island. It was more difficult than it looks. By the time we got to the point where you could cross, the tide had risen so much that you had to get completely soaked, and we hadn't brought clothes to change into.

Meanwhile there was a beautiful rainbow, and we took a few friendship photos. We also had a nice, long, tranquilo lunch. I had paella and bacalao. After lunch we strolled all the way down the coast to a lighthouse. The next day, we returned to Lekeitio prepared to explore the mysterious island.

Then we took a bus to Ondarroa, which is the city where Ben works, located on the border of Vizcaya and Guipuzcoa (if that means anything to you). It's another coastal city, but less beach-y and more port-y. Nevertheless we had another great day of exploration. After a lunch of stuffed peppers and cream cake, we walked down the coast, and I stepped foot into Guipuzcoa for the first time. Now I can say that I've been to all 3 provinces of the Basque Country.

After all the excitement, I came down with a low fever and a sinus infection on Tuesday night. So I stayed in bed and took it easy until I had to work the following week. Hot liquids are amazing.

This final week was my last week of teaching this semester, so I decided to teach Christmas vocabulary. In my lower-level classes, I taught my students to sing "The 12 Days of Christmas." You might be thinking, "That's the longest song ever." But in reality it went really fast. I put the kids in 12 groups, and they had to stand when it was their day and do a motion. Needless to say, the geese a-laying and the maids a-milking were my instant favorites. In at least two classes, the goose a-laying was a boy who would stand on his turn and triumphantly raise his hand palm-up to display the egg he'd laid. The maids would simply giggle as they mimed squeezing udders.

In the upper-level classes, we played a game that I played with friends back home called "Naked." I think it's called that just to get you interested. The class was divided into two teams and they took turns. One person from the group had 30 seconds to get their team to say as many Christmas words as they could that they drew from my hat. But they could only describe the words, and if they spoke Spanish, their turn ended, even if it were words like "A ver..." "'Spera..." or "joder." Other auxiliares will know how difficult that was for them. They got really competitive and seemed to enjoy it.

Wednesday night Jessica, Kelly, Bryan, and I went ice skating in an outdoors skating rink in Deusto. After getting the right size of skate, I was surprised at how well I could ice skate since this was only the fourth time in my life. I even got backwards skating down pretty well.

The next evening Jessica, Pinky, Ben, and I went to Bryan's and we made egg nog, something foreign the the Europeans. I had never made it fresh, and I loved it! We enjoyed it with the bourbon balls that Val send me.

That night, I must have stepped on my foot wrong somehow because it started to hurt when I walked. For the next several days I've had a limp and tried not to put too much pressure on it, and I believe it's healing.

Yesterday after our church's Bible study, Bryan, Saraí, and I made egg nog again and then went to my house where they helped me open presents from home. I didn't want to open them alone, but I can't take them to Italy. My uncle Mike had sent me a blanket, an Oklahoma mug, and a battery-powered game of Catchphrase. Of course, we played the game long into the night. Thanks for the gifts, Uncle Mike!

Tomorrow, I leave for Italy where I'll be for fifteen days. I can't wait.

I do miss everybody back home though, and I wish you all a merry Christmas!

Noviembre nuboso (Cloudy November)

2010-12-03T10:25:00.001-06:00

It's been nearly a month since my last update! I've been focusing more on working and things like that. Plus, I haven't been on any big exciting trips. The beauty of Laguardia is hard to follow. Also, nearly the entire month it has been raining here, hence the alliterative title. So, I'll do my best to mention the highlights of the last month. I'll depend on my pics to jog my memory. One Friday, I was tired of sitting around my piso. And it occurred to me that I hadn't been to the ocean yet even though I live really close. So, I took the metro (I almost called it the subte just now, what it's called in Buenos Aires) to Plentzia. I was planning on a relaxing morning in which I could chill in a café, but it took much longer to get to the ocean than I expected, so I rushed around quickly to make it back to Bilbao in time for my private English lessons with the two girls from my church, Anne and Andrea.

This was only our second class, and I was substantially late. Lessons with the two girls are much more enjoyable than my classes at the school. However, I am starting at the beginning with them, and I still find myself stopping a lot to explain British/American English differences.

The next day I went shopping to Portugalete and and Barakaldo (suburbs of Bilbao) with Bryan, Saraí, and several friends of Saraí.

One of several misspelled shirts at a discount clothing store. Why don't Spaniards wear their own language?

The next week, I decided that I needed more things to fill up my work week, so I contacted some people who were interested in hiring me for private lessons. I agreed to meet them every Tuesday at their workplace. The time and location, right after my classes and less than 5 minutes away from my school, is perfect. There are 3 and sometimes 4 of them, and they work at the País Vasco headquarters of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). The only thing I knew about Jesuits, of course, is that they killed a lot of protestants in the counter-reformation. However, I've met them twice so far, and to my knowledge they don't have any intentions of murder just yet. In fact, they are excellent students with a high level of English. They also want to learn idioms and phrasal verbs.

The next day, I called the uncle of one of my students. The student had given me a slip of paper with his phone number on it and said he was interested in doing intercambio. I met up with him, not knowing what to expect, and it turned out that he is a priest. We spoke in Spanish for a while and then arranged to meet for 2 hours every Wednesday before my Spanish lessons with Adrian, 1 hour of Spanish and 1 hour of English. Iñigo (the priest) is fun to converse with, and he's impressed by my interest in theology, seeing as how very few in Spain are. We got to talking about C. S. Lewis, and he has since lent me The Screwtape Letters in Spanish, and we're going to use it as a point of future conversation.

This next picture took place on a dreary wet Sunday. I got invited to go to the Sunday flower market and met up with Ally, Claire, Jessica C., and Pinky. On the way, we got caught up watching a Brazilian drum line at a fair trade fair. We made it to the market later, then perused a chino where I found some coveted brown sugar, then went for coffee at one of the most Americanized coffee shops in Bilbao, located in Plaza Nueva.

The following week was the week of Thanksgiving, so in all of my classes, I told the story of Thanksgiving, explaining in every class that these pilgrims aren't the ones on the camino de Santiago and that these arándanos aren't blue but red (Spanish has one word for both blueberries and cranberries). There was plenty of confusion, but some classes were into it. In my 3rd cycle classes, I had them put on a skit, which resulted in some good laughs. One class made a turkey out of paper wads and markers, while in another class, the tallest student decided to become the turkey. I wished I'd had my camera.

On the day of, I didn't do much, but I did go to Dubliners for a little intercambio. I also had a hamburger from a place near my house. It was pretty good for being so cheap.

On Saturday morning, I woke up around nine and started cooking around ten. I didn't finish until around 3:30. I started with the chocolate chip cookies, for which I had to cut up a few bars of semi-sweet chocolate. I also only had one baking sheet, so it took quite a while to bake all the dough. Then, I worked on the broccoli rice casserole, which had more steps than I expected. I boiled the rice, chopped up all the vegetables, grated all the cheese, and made my own cream of mushroom soup from scratch. The turkey was low maintenance. I just glazed butter over it and popped it in the oven. Then, Erika came over and I helped her make sweet potato casserole. Luckily I knew how to mash potatoes.

Not bad for nearly 5 hours of work, I'd say. It all tasted really good, too. And I just finished off the last of 4 kilos of turkey breast today. Everyone else brought something for the feast, and we had a great time. I was thankful to celebrate the holiday with them. Many were auxiliares I don't see very often, so it was nice to get to hear from them, too.

Here we are, minus Amanda, who arrived late. Later on, some of the other girls and Bryce came over with dessert and we enjoyed company with full stomachs.

On this most recent weekend, I went up the Artxanda again with Kata, Jessica C., and Pinky. It was cold but not raining, and it was a peaceful walk. It was cool to see snow on the mountain tops, and we discovered that we could see the ocean from Artxanda, too, rendering my Plentzia journey even more pointless.

Unfortunately, on the day we celebrated Thanksgiving, Bryan came down with a crazy virus. He had a high fever and is only now recovering. While he was MIA, I made myself useful and worked on changing things in my room that I'd been thinking about. I rearranged it and fixed all the squeaky doors.

I'm happy that I can make better use of my lamp because Kata lent me The Count of Monte Cristo, and I've begun reading that as well. With this arrangement, I can also make better use of my numerous cubby holes. And, I bought more winter clothing and a heater for my room to supplement the puny one I already have. I also have spent a lot of time looking for accommodation in Italy. No easy task since we're going during Christmas. I made a budget, too, and discovered that I've been spending less than I expected I would.

Right now, I'm off to my lessons with the girls and looking forward to taking advantage of my 6-day weekend!

La alegría de Laguardia (The Joy of Laguardia)

2010-11-09T11:55:00.003-06:00

Last Saturday, I, Kata, Jessica C., and Ally met up in Bilbao and took a bus to the walled city of Laguardia. As we rode through Álava province of the Basque Country, the scenery suddenly changed from green pine tree nurseries to red-orange rows of vineyards. I was in wine country for the first time in my life, and when I saw how the vines hung over what looked like fencing, I laughed because it reminded me of how it looks when you grow grapes on Farmville. Yes, I may be from Oklahoma, but most of the crops I'm used to seeing are corn, hay, and maybe some cotton.

After realizing what I was seeing, I got really excited, and I couldn't stop reacting -vocally. You can ask Ally who was sitting next to me. I kept saying "Wow!" and "It's so pretty!" I tried to mix up the two phrases so that I wouldn't repeat the same thing too much, but the more beautiful fields of red I saw, the more I would forget adjectives and interjections to do them justice. I think everyone else had seen grape vines before and weren't as impressed as I was. I reminded the girls also that even seeing mountains was still a new experience for me, so the combination of these two novelties blew me away.

Eventually we made it to Laguardia and walked around outside the city walls for a few minutes before going to our scheduled tour of a bodega and wine-tasting. Bilbao doesn't have very many trees, and the ones in my neighborhood that did were sadly de-robed a few weeks ago. Jessica and Kata took advantage of the leaves to play in them.

Then we found our way into the walled city. Behind the wall we discovered narrow streets, even narrower than those of Bilbao or Vitoria's Cascos Viejos.

Ally, Kata, and Jessica

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, we went to the bodega, which is named El Fabulista, after a famous fabulist (writer a fables) who grew up in Laguardia. After buying our reserved tickets, we listened to the tour guide as she explained the history of the bodega. Apparently centuries ago during wartime, underground wine presses were built all over Laguardia. Most of them were no longer in use due to flooding, but this one still is and one of only two that are open to the public. The underground concept worked well for the storing of the wine as well, since the temperatures underground remain constant year-round. When I stepped inside the bodega and inhaled, I thought that I might get tipsy; it smelled like I'd stepped into a wine bottle. We listened as she explained the wine-making process.

I was annoyed by light reflecting of dust particles in the air in pictures I was trying to take, but I realized that the light was actually reflecting off of fruit flies. Of course they would be here.

Then we went down, down, down into the depths of the bodega. It was surprisingly not too claustrophobic despite the size of our group. Soon we came to a large chamber where two glasses of wine were set up for us to taste. One was a younger wine, and the other was more mature. The tour guide explained how they differed in smell, color (tested by how the light shines through it, below), thickness (by how slow it drips on the side of the glass), and taste. When she asked the group what fruits we smelled in the wine, one wiseguy said, "Grapes," and we all laughed.

I liked them both, "like how parents love two different children," I explained when asked which I preferred.

The tour ended abruptly after the wine-tasting, and the four of us went for some lunch at an Irish pub. We bought and shared four different raciones, appetizer-sized portions of various foods. It was starting to get cold after dinner, so the girls went in search of sunlight, and finally found some. After catching some rays, we decided to spice up the mid-day lull with some coffee. "My two favorite drinks in one day," I noted. We didn't have much time after coffee, but I was determined to see some vines up-close-and-personal. So, we walked downhill. I thought that surely we'd be met with some barbed wire or other fencing, but in fact, you could walk right up to the vineyard sin problema (without a problem).

The vineyard was more amazing than I'd imagined. When frolicking down the rows of vine you would sink delicately into the loamy soil. Like Ofelia in Pan's Labyrinth, we couldn't resist trying at least one round, juicy grape.

I had thought that wine grapes were usually more bitter, but these were very sweet. Too soon, we walked up the hill to catch our bus, and we waited, and waited, but it didn't come. We left three hours after we expected and killed time by going to another small bodega for yet another glass of wine with some bread.

We finally made it to Bilbao, and I went to Casco Viejo where I met up with friends who were celebrating the birthday of one of Saraí's roommates. They had quite a large group, and I met several people and spoke a lot of Spanish. Later we went to Mozart, the place with salsa lessons that I'd been to before. I was too tired to dance, though, so I chatted with the wallflowers.

Today I went back to work. All last week I had done activities that were too difficult for most of my students. I decided to figure out something more level-specific to each cycle. Luckily Helena, one of the teachers I work with the most, emailed me with some suggestions yesterday about things she would like to see me do this week in her classes. Finally! Some direction! Apparently the professors had a department meeting and are going to give me a little more direction like I've been wanting. This week I took her suggestions and developed them into activities for all the classes of the same level. For example, the first cycle students need practice with "have got," so I had them draw a family tree, and talk about how many siblings they "have got."

It feels a little ridiculous teaching English here at times because the student's curriculum is in British English. Thus for simple possessive statements, they learn to say "I have got three sisters," instead of the more simple "I have three sisters." Those poor kids. The perfect tense is so unnecessary here, even illogical. Also, today, I spelled "neighbor" on the chalkboard, and one of my students accused his teacher of being wrong because he had taught that it was spelled with a "u." I find I have to stop more than you might expect to explain the differences between British and American English, for words like "mum" and "trainers" for example. A couple weeks ago one of my students even asked me what "dog bollocks" meant, and I didn't know until I asked my British friend. Today in one of my upper-level classes I also cracked down on the ridiculous-yet-common "See you!" as a goodbye, which not even the British say. I explained that if you don't follow it up with "tomorrow" or "later" you have to say it like the Spanish for chair: "silla!"

My class of horror remains horrific, even with a very dumbed-down exercise. I asked their teacher what disciplinary methods she's tried, and she said she'd tried all of them. Getting them to simply remain in their seats would be progress. Students here have interesting school supplies. I had noticed before that they all use grid-lined notebooks, but today I realized that they also all had white-out pens or white-out tape, which they love to use at any opportunity, almost as an excuse to be productive. What ever happened to old fashioned pencils and erasers? They have those, too, but only the most astute students have realized their value. If I were in charge, there would be severe consequences for getting out of your seat for any reason. If I were in charge, I would confiscate all the white out.

Dos semanas de diversión (A Fortnight of Fun)

2010-11-02T17:27:00.001-05:00

This update begins two Tuesdays ago. I was going to blog but ended up just ranting on Facebook, where I posted the following message:

My first three classes were great, only minor behavior problems that were solved by getting their attention or in one case having a girl sit in front of the class by herself. In my fourth class, they were out of control from the beginning. I tried to introduce myself, then do my activity, then go over their homework , but nothing worked. They continued to shout across the room, toss paper and pens across the room, get out of their seats for any reason. I might be hoarse tomorrow from trying to shout over them. Even the students who were interested in learning about me simply have not learned how a classroom operates and instead of raising a hand would shout or come up to the front of the class to ask me something. At any rate, it’s literally not in my job description to have to deal with that. I left the room, fully composed mind you, and got their teacher, then talked to the principal who is going to talk to my advisor, and hopefully I will start working alongside the teachers like I’m supposed to instead of in place of them.

Sure enough, my classes on Wednesday and Thursday were better. The teachers stayed in the classroom with me and helped answer questions and translate when necessary. I've also learned the levels of my classes much better. One problem of being alone my first couple of days is that I didn't know how little English they actually knew. So, instead of telling me that they didn't understand, they preferred to just act up.

On Wednesday night, I went to a Spanish lesson offered through Couchsurfing at Adrian's house, where I had been before. So, I figured I could get to know other people, and I'll take an opportunity to speak Spanish and not spend the whole day cooped up in my piso (apartment). I invited Bryan, and he came, too, making it me, him, and a Turkish girl named Ozlem. Adrian is starting with the basics. We talked about letters and numbers, but in doing so we had some interesting conversation and learned some things that our Spanish books might have skipped over.

Thursday's fun activity was Ben's birthday party. Ben is another auxiliar from Cambridge, and his sister was here on "holiday" to visit him. Most of my other auxiliar friends came, too, and a couple of the girls gave him lemon cupcakes that tasted amazing.

I spent Friday night with Bryan and Saraí at Saraí's apartment at what was supposed to be a music rehearsal for the coming Sunday. However, Esmeralda, a crucial part of the worship team, couldn't make it, so after talking music for a while, the conversation turned to Italy and Bryan's ganas to return.

Whoa! Too much new information! Things to know to have a good grasp of the previous paragraph:

Saraí (pronounced "saw raw EE") and Esmeralda (i.e. Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame) are both students from Mexico who live here and lead worship at church.
Bryan has Italian heritage, has visited Italy twice, and is now quite possibly addicted.
Ganas are what you have in Spanish when you feel like doing something and what you don't have when you don't feel like doing it. For example, I didn't have the ganas to blog today, but I decided that I should. Hopefully if you're following this blog and don't know Spanish, you'll pick up on the most useful Spanish phrases and start using them yourself!

So, during our "rehearsal," we found cheap plane tickets to Rome and decided to fly there for Christmas. We'd fill in other details later.

Saturday for lunch the three of us met up once again and ate at Peggy Sue's, a quaint 1960's American Diner, complete with burgers, fries, and shakes.

That afternoon was the Saturday Bible Study, after which I met up with a guy I met through Couchsurfing who was looking for some intercambio, language exchange. There was a concert going on in Casco Viejo, and we got some drinks and pintxos while alternating speaking in English and Spanish. He was with three of his friends from Durango, and they were all enthusiastic about testing their English skills. Later, they and I met up with Saraí and Bryan, we all talked for a little outside of the Corte Inglés, and then I went with Saraí and Bryan to Bryan's piso where we watched The Social Network.

Bryan's piso, by the way, is an entrepiso, meaning "between floors." It has a low ceiling, but it's not nearly as low as those in Being John Malkovich. Nevertheless, being there makes one feel like a giant. Bryan got incredibly lucky and was connected with his landlord through the school where he's working. He's paying half what rent would normally cost in exchange for giving him English lessons.

We were going to go our separate ways after the movie, but then I got a call from Jessica Chandras, another auxiliar, looking for a good time in Casco Viejo. So, we went to the nearest metro stop to head over, and it was backed up by several minutes. Eventually we arrived and had Doner Kebab with Jessica and Pinky (Remember? Irish Debbie). Doner Kebabs are the fast food of Spain where you can get kebabs and gyros for really cheap. Apparently they're all over Europe, but this was my first experience in one. I got plain old chicken and rice, but it was pretty good.

Sunday I spent most of the day thinking about what I would talk about at church, since I was asked the week before to "share" something. So, I shared in Spanish about the dichotomy of fear and love, and the role it has played in my life. I got some good feedback afterward from those there who speak English, but I was worried that my Spanish didn't make any sense. Luckily, a litter later I was told that it did. It still surprises me when this language actually "works."

Monday I went with auxiliar friends to Gernika (You might call it Guernica) in the heartland of the Basque Country for its final market day in October. There were stalls of merchandise up and down the street, and at least half of them were cheese --all kinds of cheese you can imagine, except American and cheddar, of course. I'm not a big cheese fan, but I still sampled quite a few Eucharist-sized bits of it.

Hitler used Gernika for practicing "blitzkrieg" before attacking England. He chose to do so on a market day when there would be the most people out and about. Several innocent Basque people died that day, and the brutality is permanently depicted in Picasso's famous work.

Me and Pinky in front of a copy of Picasso's "Guernica"; The original is in Madrid.

Gernika, therefore, is like a hub of Basque culture, and the people there are very proud of their "Basquitude" (as Kata says). Historically the most hardcore Basque people want autonomy for the Basque lands, which gave rise to the famous Basque terrorist group ETA and caused tension between the Basque Country and Franco. Basque leaders used to meet here and make decisions under a special tree, which now symbolizes Gernika, peace, and autonomy. The original tree has since died and its trunk is on display, but one of its saplings lives on, furthering its father's legacy.

The Original

The Sapling

The Symbol

Basques are also known for their cidra, or cider, which must be poured at a distanced to make it more bubbly. A native passed as we were practicing pouring it and shouted, "Más alto!" (Higher!)

And then my weekend was over. I made final preparations for classes that night and dove into lessons the next morning. That week I was finished with giving introductory material about myself, so I talked about Halloween. I had them fill in the blanks in a handout about trick-or-treat and carving pumpkins, and I taught them various Halloween words that we used to play BINGO. Most of the classes went well. When I returned to the class that I walked out of, and found that they had a lot of learning issues. Giving directions as clearly as possible as many times as possible seems to be the key, but no matter how many times I do, someone still doesn't understand. I managed to coax several classes into participation by using candy as incentive.

Tuesday night, Bryan and I returned to Adrian's piso for another Spanish lesson over nationalities. Then we stretched our brains by playing Scattergories, basically.

Wednesday after work, I made chili, using a recipe that Elizabeth, another auxiliar, posted on her blog. It took nearly all night because I cooked the black beans the slow way. Saraí and Bryan came over to enjoy some of it, but my kitchen quickly got crowded on the one night I had people over, so we took it to-go, and ate it at Saraí's piso.

I stayed up too late on Wednesday night and was tired all day on Thursday until after my siesta. I did, however, meet up with Saraí and Bryan for lunch at a little bar near the Arenal (place name). After the siesta, I returned to Dubliners, the bar where they have weekly intercambio. I met several English-speaking expats there, but spent most of the time talking in Spanish with a guy named Diego, who apparently reads my blog now.

Friday I went shopping with Tony's secretary, Aingeru (yeah, I know, Basque names are weird). The previous week, I mentioned to Tony that I needed to buy some shoes, but that I didn't want to get ripped off by paying too much or paying too little for poor quality. He said that Aingeru would know more about where to get good deals than he would, so he and I met up for lunch. We went to an amazing all-you-can-eat buffet, and afterward, he showed me the best shoe store to go to, along with four clothes stores with affordable prices. By the end of the afternoon, I'd bought shoes and a jacket.

That evening, we met up at the church for worship rehearsal, and afterward, Bryan, Saraí, and I were starving. I suggested we go to the free cooking class that I went to before. We did and ate free delicious Mexican "tacos" (more like burritos) and hot dogs.

Saturday brought another Bible Study, followed by a trip to Casco Viejo, where Saraí and I met the former auxiliar of Bryan's school and some of her friends and pintxoed it up.

Sunday I had lunch, or "meal," soon after I woke up. I met Bryan at the meetin' spot and then we went to Tony's portal. From there we walked to a nearby mall's food court which included a Burger King and McDonalds among other things. I opted for other things, mostly because they were less expensive. The whole church went out to eat because there was a couple visiting from Reynosa, Mexico and a family visiting from Asturias (another part of Spain).

After our long lunch, we had church. Worship was awesome, led by our budding worship team. In addition to Tony's preaching, we heard testimonies from Ulises (from Reynosa, Mexico) and from Gisela (from Asturias) and her daughter Luana, and it was touching to hear all the things that God has done in their lives. It was also a workout for my ears, because I heard within a short period of time the three major extremes of Spanish accents: Spanish, Mexican, and Rioplatense, spoken around Buenos Aires. Gisela was raised near Buenos Aires, and it was refreshing to hear a "familiar" Spanish accent.

After church, Bryan and I worked on ideas for classes while Bryan borrowed my washing machine. Then we met up with the other auxiliares in Casco Viejo for Jessica Norris's birthday. They were all dressed up for Halloween, but I was lame and didn't plan ahead, so I had no costume. They eventually went to the Erasmus Halloween party, but I wasn't feeling it, so I went home.

Yesterday was a day of planning and chilling. Bryan and I also went to Tony's for dinner. Mª Luz makes incredible food, and I shocked Aitor and Anne with how much I ate.

That brings me to today, Tuesday, the beginning of my work week. I planned several activities to choose from for my various classes of various levels. On Tuesdays, my last class is the bad class --the one I walked out of (It will forever have that label). The class went by slowly. They were somewhat better behaved, but it´s possible that they were just quieter. Their level of English is so low that I have to bring it down for them more than any other class, translating just about everything. And even then, I get a million questions. The first activity was to simply ask your partner what he/she did this weekend, and then tell me. When I asked one boy to tell me what he what his partner did, he said "No quiero." (I don't want to.) I reminded him that the whole class was doing it and it was not difficult, and eventually he said something very basic, like "He went to ______," or "He celebrated Halloween." As I was leaving the room, one kid was on the ground and other kids were play-kicking him; another boy was sobbing because someone had hit his head. The kids in that class just hit each other to make a point, and I have no idea what to do for anything to change. I feel really sorry for the kids who want to learn in that class. They're all getting shortchanged.

And I've been chilling and blogging the rest of the day, except for a few hours just now when Jessica C. texted me. I met up with her, Claire, and Pinky for a lovely evening together, topped off with Doner Kabab for dinner.

¡Un finde impresionante! (One incredible weekend!)

2010-10-18T18:48:00.002-05:00

Friday I got a text from Iban, one of the friends from Couchsurfing that I met on Monday before going to Oktoberfest. He invited me to a free Basque cooking workshop but said they were meeting up before hand for drinks and pintxos at a bar called Txindoki.

Ivan lives in Vitoria but visits Bilbao often to see his friends. From the way he carries himself and interacts with others, he reminds me a lot of my brother-in-law Jamie. He, though still in his late 20s or 30s, I think is retired due to back problems, so he doesn't work. Instead he has a good time and travels often. He wants to learn English and French, and he loves to cook. For some reason, he's taken an interest in me and wants to introduce me to the authentic País Vasco. In talking with him this weekend, I've learned a ton about the País Vasco and about the colloquial language here. However, I never know if the words he's teaching me are considered vulgar by others. I guess I'll find out...

So I went to the bar in Deusto. All together there were four people I had met Monday (Iban, Abi, Rocio, and Anasomething). Anasomething's sister Giselia and Giselia's boyfriend Jon also came, making us three Spaniards, three Argentines, and me. After we all had a drink and a pintxo at that bar, we all paid together and walked to another bar (in true Basque form) and spent a few minutes there getting a drink and a pintxo. This activity (barhopping) is called txikiteo, and the group of people you do it with is called your cuadrilla. The word can also just be any group of friends that you regularly hang out with, but here, this is what "hanging out" usually is. People don't go to each other's houses or (more accurately) apartments; that's family territory. Friend territory is in the bars and streets.

This is Giselia, surrounded by an array of pintxos.

Rocío left us after the txikiteo, and we went to one of the buildings at the University of Deusto where the cooking workshop was. The only people who showed up for it were us six, so three of us learned the entree and the other three learned the dessert, and then we switched. The dessert is called goxua, and it's kind of like a tiramisu, made with nata (whipped cream), bizcotxo (a sweet bread), and natillas (a vanilla custard) topped with caramel.

Abi eating the goxua.

The entree is called talo, which is like fajita, but in the tortilla we just wrapped some cooked onion and choice of meat: cerdo (pork), sausage, or morcilla (blood sausage made with rice).

The cooking instructor thinks I'm doing a horrible job.

The room we were in, by the way, looked like a kid's playroom or nursery, hence all the board games if you saw them in my Facebook album. Since there were so few of us, we had our fill of everything. On our way out, we saw another workshop going on downstairs: an art workshop featuring "water papel."

After that we parted ways, but Iban told me that tomorrow the Guggenheim Museum would be free to enter and that they were going. So, the next morning, I arose and went. The "Goog" is guarded by a giant dog sculpture covered in flowers and named "Puppy." Every time I hear a native talking about it, I crack a smile, because they pronounce it "poopy" shamelessly.

The first floor had large works that you had to walk through in order to experience. One consisted of columns of vertical marquees, and another was made of wood. Everyone I've talked to has mixed feelings about the works in the Goog. The descriptions of the works are filled with flowery language, which seem like they're trying to prove that the work is indeed art. At any rate, the museum did leave me wondering what made the cut. The giant abstract works were certainly more interesting than some of the Dutch still lifes, that's for sure.

The second floor was closed. I'm pretty sure they're installing a new exhibit. The third floor was divided up into categories of Dutch works such as still lifes, historical pieces, etc., which I liked. I especially liked the painters who tried to capture the non-flowery parts of life. One painter in particular spent his career perfecting the the facial expression of disgust. After experiencing the Goog, I said "hasta luego" to Iban and Abi, my tour guides, and went home for a break before going to the Saturday Bible study.

After the Bible study, I met back up with Iban and Abi. They were heading over to Adrian's house to hang out and have some pizza. I stayed at Adrian's for quite some time and met French Julie and a couple guys with Basque names I can't remember. We watched some fútbol (soccer), and talked. While there, I was trying to hear from the other auxiliares who said they were getting together tonight. Also, I was trying to help out Bryce who was in Bilbao for the night and looking for a good time. Bryce came to Adrian's, and then at 11 we left and met Pinky (Irish Debbie, long story how she got the nickname) and had some drinks before meeting the rest of the group at the metro stop. We all went to a club called Fever. Things with English names here sell better apparently. I made it home around 5am.

Irish Debbie "Pinky" and Australian Steph

The next thing I knew i was getting a call at around 10am from Abi to tell me she was buying a ticket for me. We had arranged to meet up around 11am, but I really didn't know what I was getting myself into, just that we were going to some mountain with a funny name. I got ready as fast as I could, but not very fast, and I wasn't going to make it to where I needed to be by 11. I only had a vague idea of where I was meeting them. I alternated sprinting and speed walking down the streets of Bilbao to get there, and when I arrived, there was a huge crowd on the bridge and all along the side of the river. I called Abi to figure out where they were, and they were in the crowd. I finally caught up with them and learned what was going on. It was the first annual Martxa Popular public hike up the nearby peak called Artxanda.

What started in confusion turned into the best day of my life in Spain thus far. I was part of crowd of 4,500 bilbaínos, joined with them to raise money for a charity, despite the off-and-on rain. I walked through parts of Bilbao I hadn't seen yet and saw amazing views of the city.

Throughout the hike I talked with Iban, Abi, Giselia, Jon, and Giselia's dad Luis, learning more about Bilbao, Spain, Spanish, and each of them individually. I hadn't spoken English all day, and some time in the middle of the hike, I forgot that I was an English speaker trying to remember how to say things in Spanish; I was just talking with friends with little concern about correct grammar and conjugation.

Jon, Luis, Iban, Abi y yo

We continued talking as we waited for over an hour in a long line to receive our pintxos and gift that came with our ticket purchase. Afterward, I went home and had a siesta before meeting up with Bryan at Plaza Moyúa before church at 6pm. Bryan is another auxiliar who just arrived on Friday. I invited him to church via Facebook, and he was pretty excited about checking it out.

After I got my all-too-necessary coffee, we went to church where Bryan met everyone. He, as I was, was immediately loved on and plugged in. He's going to lead worship next Sunday. Bryan can play the guitar, and they're stoked about having him. He's also stoked about having been plugged in so quickly. I was also asked to plan a skit for the four kids to do around Christmas time. It's funny because I woke up one day this week and realized how much I missed theater and wished I could get involved with it again. I was also asked to give a brief statement on Sunday about anything I want. I think they take turns doing so, and it's already my turn. We'll see what I can come up with for both of these things. One thing's for sure: this church is not one who will let its members stand idly by. Three weeks ago, there was only one person in her 20s who went to the church. Now there are 5 of us, and she is really pumped about being able to spend time together. God has big things in store for this little church that loves Him, and it will be fun to see it all pan out. Sunday also happened to be Anne's 12th birthday.

Anne with her birthday dessert called brazo de gitano (gypsy's arm) as Andrea looks on

Today (Monday) I did domestic things like cook, clean, and do laundry before meeting up with Bryan to go to the men's prayer meeting. This group of guys is really uplifting. When I came home I cooked up the bulgogi (Korean food) that was marinating while I was gone, and now I'm up way too late. I have to get up early for my second round of chaos!

Does anyone's first day of work ever go as planned?

2010-10-14T19:13:00.001-05:00

My first day teaching was a disaster!

It's been a while since my last update, mostly because I haven't felt like I've done anything very noteworthy. A big part of it had just been trying to get used to everything. I'm proud to say that I no longer need a map to get to the most important places, and I can even explore alternate routes to places without fear of getting lost. I'll try to sum up the highlights of the last 11 days. If you only want to read about my first day of work, skip to the paragraph that starts with "Today."

Last Tuesday, I went to Vitoria, the capital city of País Vasco. I got up early and took a bus there with little knowledge of exactly where I was going. So, I walked all around Vitoria, soaking in the oldness of it all. The Casco Viejo of Vitoria was a lot like that of Bilbao, with narrow streets between tall buildings, but Vitoria had what seemed like older cobblestone. Though I wasn't surrounded by hills like in Bilbao, it wasn't Oklahoma flat, and it was interesting to see escalators built into the road right alongside cobblestone stairs and ramps.

Eventually, I got tired of my photo-taking walk and I headed for the orientation, which seemed more like an orientation for the teachers than for the teaching assistants. I learned that most auxiliares had gotten a ride from their teachers, and that my school wasn't nearly as involved as most others. The reception was an hour's worth of non-stop Spanish, and not having had my morning cup of joe, it was difficult to stay focused. Despite my effort, they didn't provide us with any useful information there. The only thing good about it was that they served us free wine and pintxos afterward. I also got to meet more auxiliares from various parts of País Vasco, some of whom I hung out with a little longer in Vitoria.

photo compliments of Claire

The next morning, we all went to Barakaldo, which is like a suburb of Bilbao to the north (its Edmond, if you will) via metro. I couldn't find the people I was meeting, so I called them and learned that they were already on the platform, and I had maybe a minute to get down there from the surface. I raced down the stairs and escalators and made it just as everyone was getting on the train.

In Barakaldo over the next couple of days, we went to various workshops where they quickly presented to us as many classroom activities as they could fit into only 4 hours of presentation. One thing about Spain so far is that it seems like they're very serious about breaks. As soon as any meeting starts, I am immediately told when the break will be. I guess it's to be expected from the country that invented the siesta.

While I'm on that topic, that has been strange to get used to. People work from 8/9am-2pm. They don't eat lunch here until everything closes down (except restaurants) from 2-4 every day. Thus, for the past few days, I've made myself a pretty substantial breakfast. Then everybody goes back to work and everything (except banks) reopens from 4-7/8, which requires them to have dinner right before they go to bed. This is a big oversimplification of how different the daily schedule feels here.

I can walk through Plaza Indautxu at various times of the day, and each time it will have a different kind of people with a different feel: professional businessmen on their way to work in the morning; moms, babies, and retired people out shopping during the day; entire families enjoying each other at lunch; kids playing soccer after school in the afternoon; old couples doing a paseo (the Spanish customary evening stroll) in the evening, and groups of teens with kalimotxo (mixture of cheap red wine and coke) after about 10pm.

Back to Barakaldo: very informative, and mostly useful, though I had little idea of what my school's expectations of me would be. I was shocked when one of the classroom conversation topics they advocated was a sex column that was graphic enough to get a teacher fired in the States.

After orientation on Wednesday, everybody and their dogs went to IKEA, since the one in Barakaldo is the only one in the region. I had never been to any IKEA before, though everyone talks like it's the best thing in the world. I didn't have the best experience. All I wanted to buy were sheets, but I bought two sets of bottom sheets because they were mis-racked, and I still don't know why they don't sell them in sets. I returned the more expensive one with little difficulty, though, and they gave me a coupon for a free coffee for my mistake.

On Friday, I had dinner with the Ochoa family, which was entirely various kinds of meat, until Mariluz brought the bread. I just thought it was interesting, but I don't think they thought anything of it. She and I are the only ones who like salad. Tony calls salad "sheep food." It was nice to get a good meal after a week of cereal and pintxos. I was still trying to figure out the grocery store and what all I could make with what they had.

The last two Saturday and Sunday evenings, I have gone to the church that Tony leads. On Saturday, there's a bible study over John, and on Thursday there's a service in which Tony is going through Romans. They don't have a building but meet in a classroom that is in the building where Tony works. Even though I've never seen more than 15 of us together in that room, I love their fellowship, and they have such an authentic love for God and concern for others. Also, without this church I would have little to no connection to any native bilbaínos.

Last weekend, I also learned why Bilbao has more umbrella holders than trash cans. Luckily I bought a really good umbrella from a chino (discount stores with all your daily needs, always run by Chinese people). I'm sure I'll be using that word in future blog posts.

Sunday after church (which is in the evening, remember), I met some friends at a bar for salsa night. No, not Picante Sauce but dancing. Another auxiliar from Wisconsin had some salsa experience and wanted to try it out. I and my Irish friend Debbie and my British friend Ben mostly just watched until two more auxiliares came who I hadn't met: Steph from Australia, and Kelly from Belgium. Kelly knew how to dance. She taught me a couple moves and made me feel really comfortable not knowing what I was doing. We plan to return tomorrow night for free salsa lessons.

Monday I planned to meet up with couchsurfers (www.couchsurfing.org), but they weren't where I thought they'd be, so I wandered around for a little while with Irish Debbie until we ran into other auxiliares, one of whom had the phone number of the guy who leads a lot of couchsurfing events in Bilbao. Communication was difficult over the phone, but I eventually made it to his house where we hung out and talked before going to Oktoberfest in Deusto, which is the college-y part of Bilbao (its Norman, if you will). Oktoberfest was lame at first because the music was so loud that I couldn't communicate and didn't think it was worth it. For some reason, though, I decided to stay, and I met a lot of young native bilbaín@s along with two girls from Buenos Aires. So I ended up speaking a lot of Spanish and having a really good time, especially when they switched to techno music after the Germans were done playing.

Tuesday evening I watched Pilgrim's Progress at church. It was dubbed in Spanish, but thankfully they provided me with English subtitles. It was interesting to see English lip movements that matched the words I read while hearing Spanish. I had never read or seen Pilgrim's Progress, though I had heard about it, and it was pretty good. It's a rather complex allegory of the Christian life, and it left a lot of contemplation to be done afterward. I'm surprised that I don't remember hearing about it in my Western Civ class.

I thought that I'd be working on Wednesday, but I was met with more orientation. My advisor, Javier, gave me a schedule and we ironed out some other details. He also bought me a café con leche, so I can't complain. I will be working with 12 different classes each week, which means I see each group of kids only once each week. This also means that potentially, I only need to have one set of activities planned for each week. I also observed two of Javier's classes. I found it interesting that his 15-16 yr. old students who he taught in English were more capable than his 17-18 yr. old students who he taught in Spanish.

Today (or yesterday, since it's after midnight here) I had my first teaching experience here in Spain. It was awful. Javier had told me that I would be left alone to teach the students, so I prepared a couple activities for the three hour-long classes. This required getting to school early to print something off and make copies. Such a simple task took much longer than expected, and I was only able to make copies for the first activity. I had no idea how many students to expect, so I guessed. When I got to the classroom the teacher said something to the effect of "Good luck working with the animals," and she took off, glad for a break. There were nearly thirty students in the first cycle of ESO (12-13 years old). I ran short a few copies of the activity, of course, and made some students share. It turned out that I didn't even need the second activity because there were enough students to draw out the first one. The students were really rude and loud throughout the whole activity. When I asked them to be quiet so I could hear what a student was saying, they would all shout at each other to be quiet and become even louder. Halfway through class, some older students came to class apparently from the nurse's office to tell me that I needed to bring my students down so they could all get some vaccine. Learning that they'd all be getting a shot, any control I may have had vanished as they screeched in terror. Trying to figure out what was going on, I walked down the hall to talk to an adult, followed by noisy kids. One by one teachers came out of classrooms to tell them (us?) to be quiet. At the end of the hall, the nurse told me that the kids were supposed to come down in prearranged groups of some sort. I did my best to gather them back up, but they remained out-of-control for the rest of the hour. A student from the classroom next door came in to ask me to make them be quiet because they were taking a test. One of my students told me after he left that this was payback for his class banging on the wall the last time they had a test. I don't know how an auxiliar who didn't speak any Spanish could have survived here.

My second class was with about 20 students from the second cycle (a year older than the first class). When the teacher came, she hadn't been expecting me and had already prepared a lesson for the day that was very important for their upcoming test. So, she went along with her plans, and occasionally used me to read something off. Luckily, she wants to work with me in the future to do something in her class that relates better the material they're working with. The students were pretty disrespectful and resistant to learning the whole time, but nowhere near as bad as the younger students.

My third class had about 15 third-cycle students of my adviser. I had them all to myself and felt prepared to deal with such a small group. They behaved extraordinarily well, and they participated well. However, since there were so few of them and since they behaved and participated so well, we finished the activity so fast that I had 30 minutes to kill with nothing prepared. So, I tried to start conversation after conversation, picking things out of thin air to ask them. I'm grateful that even when the class slowed, they remained participative and respectful. We did speak a lot of English and we did learn a lot about each other, so the hour was not unproductive. I learned among other things that one of my students (who looks like the lead actor in Sky High) wants to be a professional bullfighter, and he practices every day. Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullfighting (or Hemingway) for more info on how cool that is. I also asked them what they knew about the United States, and these were the only things they gave me, in order of what they thought of first:

It's big.
They eat a lot of bad food.
They're all really fat.

I'm not too bummed about my first day because I really didn't know what to expect, but now I have a better understanding of what awaits me next Tuesday.

After school I got a few groceries, then went to an Irish Pub called Dubliners where they have intercambio language exchange every week, and I got to meet a few new people there.

I look forward to planning some trips outside of Bilbao and seeing some things in Bilbao I haven't seen yet ...like the inside of "the Goog."

Home Dulce Home

2010-10-03T09:55:00.002-05:00

This new chapter in my life began with the longest day of my life. I woke up at 7:00 am, finished packing, and left for the airport. I said my goodbyes and went through security. I made it into the last available seat on the flight to Dallas. I know this because I overheard an AA worker tell the girl on the standby list whose name was right after mine that she'd have to wait.

I flew to Dallas from 10:35 to 11:35, and as soon as I got to Dallas, I began praying that I'd make it onto my flight to Madrid. If I didn't make it on this one, I'd have to wait 24 hours for the next flight and arrive to Madrid in the middle of a general strike. Bob, Raliegh's dad who is giving me the hook-up on flying standby, called when I got to Dallas to inform me that the chances of getting on it didn't look very good. The flight was overbooked by 2 revenue passengers and there were a couple people ahead of me on the standby list. He kept saying, "It's not pretty." So, after eating and napping for several hours, I heard one of the AA workers at the gate call my name. She gave me a ticket, and suddenly my concerns melted away.

Right after that, I saw a guy waving at me. I pointed to myself with a quizzical look to make sure that it was me he wanted, and he nodded. I walked over and met two of the people who were in my program. We hung out with each other for the rest of the trip and gradually met more of us. There were at least seven of us on the flight in the program, but no one else was going to the Basque Country. The flight was delayed by about an hour because they had to change planes, but I was just glad to be getting on the flight.

We finally boarded, and I sat down next to a quiet man, who I soon learned did not know English. So, of course I struck up a Spanish conversation with him. His name was Joaquín and he was a professional dancer returning home to Cádiz from Santa Barbara. I managed to find his website a few minutes ago: http://www.joaquingrilo.com/

The flight lasted for what felt like forever, and I couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried. Joaquín got really upset because the sound on the flight wasn't working, so I let him watch a movie on my laptop. Eventually, day came along with Madrid and new adventures.

After getting my baggage, I found the bus that goes to the bus station. On this bus I met a family of Chinese tourists who spoke English but no Spanish. After I bought my bus ticket without a problem, I got to play translator for them. Then I found a payphone to tell Tony when I'd arrive in Bilbao.

As I waited for my bus (less than an hour), I started talking to three spunky Australian girls. They watched by bags while I bought a "pintxo" and a water. It felt good to be able to do so much with my Spanish.The bus trip to Bilbao was awful. The man next to me had horrible BO that I smelled for 5 hours. And, I still couldn't sleep. The countryside was pretty, though. Not flat like OK, and I think they were harvesting sunflowers.

When I finally arrived at the Bilbao bus station, I saw Tony after waiting a couple of minutes. He led me to his car where I met his daughter and learned to do the double cheek kiss when saying hello or goodbye to women. I'd get more practice with this later. We dropped Anne off at the conservatorio for her piano lessons and then Tony took me to a nice hostel where he'd already booked me three nights. Meanwhile, in the car, he gave me a phone that he had already bought and charged. I wouldn't have to go through that hassle and could already start making and receiving calls. He left me at the hostel to shower and settle, and then he returned. We picked Anne up and then went to their house for dinner. We finally dined at around 10:00, which is a fairly normal time for dinner here.

Tony had already found me a room, but it was not yet available because the girl who lived there before me hadn't moved out. So, I ended up staying only 2 nights in the hostel, and on Friday I moved into the hostel.

But, back to the dinner. It went well. It was good to meet the family, and they didn't expect the gifts that I brought for them. We ate pumpkin soup and squid and the other things that you can see the pictures. Around the dinner table, I was reminded how little Spanish I know, as I kept asking them to repeat themselves. For some reason, I can understand Tony pretty well, but not so much his wife María Luz and kids Aitor and Anne.

After dinner, Tony dropped me off at the hostel, and I slept for 11 hours. Thus, I missed breakfast in the hostel, but I only had to wait a couple hours until lunch. Tony had me come over for lunch and dinner all week for authentic Basque foods as I transition.

There were several people in my program who were staying in the hostel, and I got to meet them. Most of them were freaking out about finding a place to live, and I felt extremely fortunate that I could think about other things.

I walked over to Tony's house using handy maps that they had in the hostel. I walked the wrong way at first but this allowed me to see a pretty part of town that I later took pictures of.

To get to Tony's after I figured out where I was, I walked along the beautiful river that was filled with visible fish. I was soaking in the newness. It was kind of like the riverwalk in Tulsa, except that it was in Spain, and therefore a lot cooler. As I was walking through the city I noticed some similarities to Buenos Aires, like their weird hair styles, man purses, and listening to English music, but there's a different aura here in Bilbao. The people seem more relaxed and less desperate to make it financially. The city is cleaner, more organized, and more artistic. Unfortunately for you, I'm not in a big rush to take a lot of photos since I'll be here so long. I've been focusing more on getting settled and learning how to live here.

Kata Cox, whom I had met on Facebook, joined the Ochoas and me for dinner on Wednesday night. At the hostel that night I couldn't sleep a wink, even though there was no one else in the room.

The next morning, I had to wake up extra early to go the the comisario (police station) to get an appointment to get my Foreigner Identification Card. Luckily, the delay that Spain is known for didn't affect me much. I was fortunate to be with other auxiliares (people in my program) who were in my shoes. Somehow trying to figure it all out is made so much easier when others are with you. We were in a long line waiting for 2 hours or so to get in the building, but it didn't seem so bad, especially not after I got my coffee, which was just as strong and marvelous as Argentine coffee.

After that, I went to Tony's for lunch, and after eating, I moved into my new place, met the landlady, signed the contract, had a tour of the flat, and unpacked. I'm kind of off by myself in a corner of the flat; it's really cozy and has everything I need.

After I unpacked, I decided to take a stroll around my neighborhood and the city. At first I was soaking it in, but then I gradually began to realize how different and new everything was. Simple things like when to push and pull doors is a new challenge. Using elevators and intercoms, communicating with doormen, knowing where to buy what. There's no Wal-mart here. I went into a supermarket and didn't recognize anything. They don't refridgerate milk and keep it in liter-size boxes. There was no fruit. For that I had to go to a fruit store. And there was a whole wall full of different brands of white asparagus!

Eventually, I got tired of walking around aimlessly, and I decided to see if I could go to the Ochoas' early. Tony was still at the conservatorio, so I called the landline, and Aitor answered. I had a hard time understanding him. I got to the building and entered the number to ring them. The door opened for me. I went by memory to the elevator, but I was trying to follow directions that Tony had given me. I could have sworn they lived on the seventh floor, but it was only the third, so I knocked on the door that I thought was theirs, and some lady just shouted at me without opening the door. I went down to leave the building and I couldn't get out. I don't know if all I had to do was push and I was pulling or what, but at the time it was frustrating. I went back up the elevator to try it again, but was met with the same lady, so I decided to give up and just walk back to my flat. Somehow the door opened on my second try.

I'm glad I went home because I got to meet two of my flatmates, Sergio and Itxiar, who were very nice and helpful but still spoke extremely fast. Since then, I haven't really seen anyone who I live with. Apparently they pretty much keep to themselves. When I returned to the Ochoas' for dinner, I learned that my disappearance had caused quite a stir, and I felt really bad about it. They couldn't believe that I had gotten lost after having been there 4 times already!

Friday morning, I went back to the comisario with all my stuff they requested, and I didn't have to wait long at all. By the time I left I had my Foreigner Identification Number (just as useful as a card), and with it I opened a bank account. Soon after that I met Javier Elias at the school where I'm working, and she showed me around and introduced me to the other teachers. They were fascinated to hear that I was from Oklahoma, and they wanted to hear more about the Wild West. One teacher asked, "Are there ranches there?" and "Does everyone carry a gun?" The English professors seemed to enjoy practicing their English with a native speaker, too. I found out that the Australian auxiliar at my school last year was 60 years old, and he didn't speak Spanish and wasn't very involved. The teachers seemed relieved upon meeting me. I also learned that I'm only working 3 days a week, Tuesday through Thursday from 8:30 to 12:30, which is what I hoped for and will give me lots of free time. Afterward, I went to the bank again, to get a seal to return to my school so I can get paid. While there, I decided to play with the ATM machine. They have ATM machines there both to withdraw and to deposit cash. An old Spanish lady in front of me was trying to use the one to deposit money, but she couldn't figure it out. After she gave up and got in line to talk to a human, I fiddled around with it while she watched, and finally figured it out. I felt pretty accomplished. I looked back at the old lady, and she gave me a congratulatory look.

After lunch at Tony's I went home and took a siesta because I was pretty tired. They're only supposed to be 30 minutes or so, but that wasn't enough for me. Eventually I got up and started getting ready to go out to dinner with the other auxiliares, but when I tried to leave my flat, I had been locked in! I lifted the latch and turned the key, but no matter what i did, the door wouldn't open! I called the landlady, and she called her husband who was downstairs where they live. He came up with his key to show me how to unlock it. In doing so, he came in the apartment, shut the door behind him, lifted the latch and turned the key, but the door wouldn't open for him either. So, I was locked in my flat with a middle-aged Basque man for 30 minutes while we waited on his wife to get there. In the meantime, he complained about everything under the sun, telling me that 100% of Spaniards are complete idiots, including his wife, who was taking too long. It was also their prime minister Zapatero's fault some how. I just thought that it was really funny.

Me being late didn't do any harm to my dinner plans. I went to Plaza Nueva and had pintxos and wine with the other auxiliaries until 2am. It was nice to meet them.

Thus Saturday, I slept really late, and soon after waking went to Tony's for lunch, followed by their Saturday bible study, followed by a meal. It was fun getting to meet the people there. There was Mexican girl and a Peruvian guy there which surprised me, but which is pretty representative of all of the immigration that Bilbao has had over the last decade.

Even though I slept late, I got tired early and went to sleep and woke up fairly late on Sunday. This morning I tried to do some shopping only to find that most things are closed on Sunday other than restaurants. I did, however buy 4 nectarines for only €0.63 at the fruit store. Now I'm off to get some coffee, walk around, and go to church at 6:00pm.

Looks like my intentions of short blogging aren't too successful, but once there are less things to tell, maybe I'll get better at it.

This last photo is on the way to church:

Pensamientos iniciales (initial thoughts)

2010-08-17T00:24:00.002-05:00

In this post I will consider my intentions for blogging, what I want to accomplish from it, and how I want to do it differently from before.

The last time I blogged was last summer in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Looking back, I'm glad that I kept a written record of what I did, yet I was also motivated by an academic requirement to record. I occasionally felt burdened by a need to creatively record my travels and to update everyone at home with what I was doing. That trip was only 2 months long. This trip will be 8-9 months. Thus, the exciting parts of my traveling will be more spread out. That said, I plan to write posts less often. Though they will be written less often, I hope to keep them brief, writing only the most intriguing details that pictures can't capture and uploading only the most eye-catching of those that can.

Writing briefer and less often will help me focus on absorbing language and culture without reverting back to English. It will also be easier for you to follow along because it will be more visual (provided I figure out how to easily embed photos), and there will be no tauntingly long posts.

Less work for everyone! Sounds like a plan...