Looking back: Frankfurt and Madrid

Before I begin this "looking back" of sorts, I have a brief story.

Tonight I went to help out at my old high school as a referee in a dodgeball tournament. This is about the last thing I'd ever imagine myself doing on a Thursday night, but it turned out to be quite an experience. It was the first time I had come into contact with high school kids in a long time. Having recently returned from Spain, the night truly put the changes in my life into perspective. I looked back on how trivial my four years in high school now appeared, how all the complaints I had and problems I faced then were nothing compared to the challenges I've met over the last few months.

I saw these kids so naive and hoped that some day they too would see the world through different eyes. I'm not trying to be elitist here, but nothing from high school compares even remotely with the kind of soul searching and cultural learning that I had in Spain. I saw that I had come so far, yet like these kids, still have a ways to go. I could appreciate even more the opportunities I've had in college, as well as the opportunities that lie ahead.

Speaking of opportunities, I thoroughly enjoyed the time I had in Madrid. While Frankfurt had some interesting sights, there wasn't much to do. In Madrid, I saw the palace where General Francisco Franco lived. After studying his life and his regime for three months, it was incredibly fulfilling to see it all in real life. I found myself clinging to every detail that the tour guide told us and imagining what we learned about in class happening right in front of me, in the exact room where it happened. It's just one of the beauties of studying abroad, learning about the culture, society and politics in class, and then going out and seeing it, even living it.

So here is the second round of photos. Below are two videos of Frankfurt, one of the skyscrapers at night (don't bother with sound) and the other of a flea market the next day. Enjoy.

Home sweet home

I’ve been back in the U.S. for several days now, and I can honestly say I’m a different person. I have new perspectives on society, how people live their lives, cultural differences and much more. The reverse cultural shock hasn’t left me yet. Driving is quite an experience, especially in a brand new car. It’s the simple things in life that I’m still getting used to, like menus in dollars, big screen TVs, and everybody always on the run. In some ways I prefer the life in Spain, with big lunches and a siesta in afternoon.

But it’s good to be back. I feel refreshed, like I have more energy here than I’ve had in a long time. I’m learning how to cook, taking my diet seriously, and just trying to get more out of every day. Seeing all of my extended family this past weekend was a treat, but surreal in many ways. Much of what I’ve been through is hard to put into words, but most importantly I’m a better person because of my experiences. There are many questions that I have yet to answer and a long road lies ahead, but I know I’ll get there sooner or later.

Below are two videos from the Hofbraühaus, a brewery in Munich. A band plays and a group of drunk Germans sing their own song. Fun times. The first round of photos is here.

Bittersweet Symphony

This is not goodbye. Though I leave Spain in just a short while, the people I've met, the places I've seen, and the discoveries I've made will remain with me forever. I am incredibly grateful for the experience I've had, and I eagerly await the opportunities that lie ahead of me upon returning home.

This will be my last post from Spain, with just a few more to follow when I get back in the states. It's difficult to leave everything, but this is simply the path to another adventure. It's been the ride of my life, and leaving is bittersweet.

The photo is of Myriam and I in our apartment. Thanks for sticking with Tirando Cobre.

A December to remember

I'll keep this brief, as I need to get back to tying up loose threads here like writing papers, studying for finals (still!) and that oh so wonderful word: packing. But for now, here are three photos from the three cities I visited during my latest adventure: the first from Munich, the second from Frankfurt and the third from Madrid.

The last week

I was walking to school today, wearing a light jacket and listening to music on a warm, sunny day that felt like it was straight out of September. It was just beautiful walking around Seville, taking the path that I take every day, over the bridge, past the fountains, and on the side of the cathedral. And I got emotional again. I realized this will be my home for just this week, this final week. It is hard to imagine that the end is near, and while I cannot wait to see family and friends, I don't want to leave. I've already started exchanging contact information with a few close friends here. I've met some incredible people, seen some breathtaking sights and had experiences I could never have imagined were possible. Studying abroad really does change lives. It changed mine.

And so I will begin to wrap things up here on Tirando Cobre. I know you're dying to hear more about Germany, see photos and everything. I don't have Internet at home at the moment, so it might have to wait until the weekend. But outside of Dachau, other highlights were a spectacular square in Munich, a view of the skyscrapers at night in Frankfurt, and palaces in Madrid, as well as the musical "Beauty and the Beast" in Spanish.

I'm not sure when I'll check in again, definitely at least once before the end of the week. I'll have some "looking back" type posts from home. For now it's back to studying for finals and tying up loose ends. See you soon.

Live from Munich Part II: Never forget

Today I saw the concentration camp Dachau. At first, I was frustrated by the huge groups of young German students, joking around on the bus ride and making it difficult to see certain signs at the memorial site. But then I read, and I listened. I read about the fences watched by the S.S. and how prisoners would go into forbidden territory just to end their suffering. I listened to descriptions of experiments that tortured the innocent victims at the camps. I saw a reconstruction of a barracks.

Pretty soon, I broke down into tears. It was just too much to handle. I couldn't walk through the crematorium or even look at signs that talked about some of the horrifying things that went on there. It is one thing to sit and read about it in the comfort of a classroom or watch "Schindler's List" in a cozy living room. But it's something entirely different to hear and read about what happened while standing in the exact location where it happened just 60 or so years ago. It's an experience for which I will be forever grateful, and it is one that I will never forget.

This is the one wish of survivors, most of whom have spoken somewhere or written a book about their experiences. These innocent people went through horrors that most people can't begin to fathom, and yet they still found the strength to share their stories. In today's world of questionable wars, ongoing genocide and hunger in developing countries, it is essential that we too never forget. Instead of sitting in front of the television, or concerning ourselves with the latest celebrity gossip, we too must share the story with our children and grandchildren, so there will never be another Dachau, and there will never be another Holocaust. Never again. Never forget.

Live from Munich

My friend Alicia and I have arrived in Munich, Germany. After a six-hour bus ride to Madrid in the early morning, a flight to Frankfurt in the afternoon, and six hours by train to our final destination, we are finally here. Tomorrow we are headed off to see the concentration camp, Dachau, just a short ride outside the city, as well as some other sights and sounds of Munich. Friday and Saturday will be Frankfurt, then Saturday night and Sunday in Madrid. Thus far, it is not too touristy here, and everything is written in German, but we have been getting around without much problem. For now, the hour is getting late, and so I hope to check in again soon. Until then.

An aBRIDGEd version

Marathon Day 4, Location 4: Prague

You guessed milestone No. 1. Today is my 21st birthday, and I just want to say thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. It's exciting to celebrate in Spain. I had my last day of work and last day of classes, which is sad because having the opportunity to take classes in a foreign country is something I truly relish. Otherwise, I'm packing for Germany and had the most amazing dinner with a great friend. Italian food. Mmm.

As for milestone No. 2, this is Tirando Cobre's 50th post. I knew it was coming and timed it exactly with my birthday, and multimedia from PRAGUE! So here it is, finally. I'll try to post more photos when I get back to the states, or at least work on some captions. The three videos below in order come from a morning on Charles Bridge, the view from a tower in St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague Castle, and the changing of the guard ceremony at the castle. I made both photo collages myself.

That's about it, next check-in might be from Germany, so we'll just have to wait and see. Enjoy ...

Pigeon love

Marathon Day 3, Location 3: Italy

Lesson learned: Animals like to be fed. Though monkeys are much cooler than pigeons, these crazy creatures go insane on me in this video. I'm sure I'll hear about this one for the rest of my life (I can already hear you laughing). But I enjoyed the experience, and my two friends snickering in the background did as well. The video is from Venice. The city is almost like a wonder of the world, because there are practically no streets, just canals and the main river to get around. There's no place like it on Earth. Photos are here.

So Venice is my second favorite city in the world. I wonder what city tomorrow will bring ...

Monkeying around

Marathon Day 2, Location 2: Gibraltar

So about that "experience with monkeys."

Saturday I went with my study abroad program to see Gibraltar. Home to a giant rock, a naval base and some wild primates, the British territory is about a three-hour bus ride from Seville, and it's just south of Spain's border.

In addition to hanging out with the monkeys, we enjoyed talking to locals. People there are impressively bilingual in Spanish and English. They speak Spanish as well as Spaniards and English as well as the British. (There's something about British English that just cracks me up.) Generally, locals spoke English to us, and it's interesting that all of the signs and menus are in English. Again, Gibraltar is a part of England, so the currency is pounds. But it's so expensive there that people will often cross over into Spain to go shopping, sometimes for a Christmas tree!

And then you have the monkeys. They're actually pretty friendly if you feed them, though they do get attached to us (figuratively and literally) rather quickly. Monkeys swiped at a few people who tried to touch them and bit one person (nothing major). You have to offer food and let the animal come to you. Some people got a little too close to the babies, which infuriated their very protective parents. Otherwise, a good time was had by all, monkeys included.

Enjoy the video below and see more photos here.

Long live Seville

After riding a camel in the Sahara desert, sailing through Venice, walking Charles Bride in Prague, and surviving an "experience with monkeys," I'm still amazed walking around Seville, especially passing by the city's cathedral every day. I had some free time during the past few days to explore a little bit. Here's a quick recap.

• It's fun to eat out in Seville. Myriam always makes great (and big!) meals, so there's rarely a need to leave the house, but sometimes it's worth it to venture out a little. Thursday I went to an Italian restaurant in what used to be the Jewish quarter. The staff was incredibly friendly, there was a great atmosphere, and it's Italian food, so I couldn't go wrong. The next day I went out to Thai food, which was slightly disappointing. I'm spoiled with Thai food in Philadelphia, and while this was good, it just wasn't the same.
  

• I've been wearing a Seville Football Club scarf the past few days, and I can't even tell you how many comments I got about it. People are just wild about that team. I think I'd compare it to Boston with the Red Sox. It's awesome. The club unites the city.
  

• Though I missed Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen's concert recently in Madrid, I checked out a wonderful symphony orchestra performance Friday night. While the theater wasn't quite as elegant as the one in Prague, the show was significantly better. For nearly 2 1/2 hours, a pianist, harpists, violinists and a plethora of other musicians led a packed house through four extensive pieces. Some were more traditional classical music while others were more modernized and featured a soloist on piano. The musicianship is incredible, with complex tempo changes and diverse movements (sections of songs).
  

• This photo shows the bridge coming out of Nervion (my section of the city), and you can see La Giralda, the tower from the cathedral in the background. This post marks the beginning of a marathon on Tirando Cobre. In four days (today included), you'll see four posts detailing my experiences in four different cities in essentially four different countries. With multimedia and some short stories, I hope to mark TWO important milestones. Think about it.
  

A night in Barcelona

Lately I've been feeling a bit of culture shock. Imagine sitting down to lunch with your family while watching the afternoon news. An inside look on a film about prostitution comes on, and all of a sudden you're looking at lengthy shots of frontal nudity. Yep, that's Europe for you.

After traveling to Morocco, Italy and the Czech Republic this month, heading back into Spain on Saturday was an interesting change. We got into the airport starving in Barcelona, and I picked up a ham and cheese sandwich, which I would never do in the states. There's just something about the ham in Europe. I had an incredibly satisfying ham and cheese sandwich in Milan. But back to Barcelona.

The airport offers a free shuttle to the train station, and the metro is cheap, quick and easy. By the time we got out into the city center, it was dark again. In the three days I was away, I only saw the sun twice. Once was on the plane from Prague back to Spain, and the other time was the short bus ride to the train station in Barcelona. But the lack of sun in Prague fit the city so well. From the statues lining Charles Bridge to the medieval torture devices underground in Prague Castle, everything is dark, sinister and gloomy.

You'll see Prague soon. For now, see Barcelona at night.

Back from Barcelona

I'm back in Seville. Back to juggling multiple tasks: organizing photos, planning my next trip, writing papers and figuring out next semester. I will say that this weekend was among the most memorable I've had in my life. In Barcelona, we walked up through a park and saw spectacular views of the city all lit up. We walked through a cathedral that had an open air section in the middle, and we saw some of Spanish architect Antonio Gaudi's famous work. While I wish we had had another day there, we got a glimpse into the essence of Barcelona, and the extra time in Prague was well worth it.

You've read the stories. See the sights. Here is some video of people dancing in front of Barcelona's cathedral Saturday night. From Prague, photos and video are coming, but until then ...

Live from Prague Part II

First, I would like to wish you a belated Happy Thanksgiving! I feasted on sandwiches my housemother prepared for me, but I ate them in Prague, where Thanksgiving doesn't really exist. About Prague ...

I'm just wrapping up day two here, which started watching the "sunrise" over Charles Bridge and ended while relaxing to classical music performed by a live orchestra. The bridge is like Prague itself, even better than it's made out to be. Bookended by towers and churches, the historic bridge is lined with 30 exquisite statues, each with political, religious, or historical significance (often all three). And with very few people crossing early in the morning, we spent an hour strolling through, snapping photos and soaking in the history and views of the castle and other highlights of Lesser Town.

The castle was next. Probably the largest medieval castle in the world, Prague Castle now houses the president of the Czech Republic. We saw San Vito Cathedral, the royal palace, Golden Lane, St. George Basilica and more. A breathtaking view met us 287 steps up in the cathedral, and the Story of Prague taught us the city's history, including burial methods for the royal family, stories of martyrs and timelines dating back thousands of years.

We capped off the festivities with a beautiful orchestral performance covering the likes of Mozart and Vivaldi. In the 400-seat magnificent concert hall, the show was soothing and the perfect break from walking all day, from 6:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m.

In the coming week, I'll have videos and photos to post. Tomorrow we finish off Prague and head to Barcelona for the evening. After two days in Prague, Barcelona feels like an afterthought, but we'll enjoy it just the same.

Live from Prague

The Tirando Cobre team has officially landed in Prague! It's just after 6 a.m., and my crew and I are headed out to Charles Bridge and the Prague Castle, the two biggest sights here. Yesterday we walked around New Town and Old Town, saw the astronomical clock and a cathedral lit up at night. There's something around every corner here, and we've been easily walking through the city. It's mostly pedestrian areas, so few cars are a nice change from pretty much everywhere except Venice.

Before I go, yesterday we also walked around the Jewish neighborhood and wandered into a handful of synagogues. The history from the Holocaust haunts the area: The names of 80,000 persecuted Jews line the walls of Pinkas Synagogue, while a chilling cemetary houses 300 years of Jews.

That's all for now, I'll check in again soon.

Venice in Seville

It hardly ever rains in Seville. But when it rains, it pours.

Yesterday, a torrential downpour hit Seville on and off from the wee hours of the morning to the late hours of the night. I could have used one of those water taxis I took throughout Venice (photo at right). In Seville, a man stood up to his knees in water right outside where I work. Later in the day, the area around my house was nearly inaccessible, as streets were flooded and sidewalks were reduced to a few inches wide.

Not to mention transportation: I could have gotten to school faster on a camel yesterday than taking the bus. When a few inches of rain fall in Seville, it's like the sky is falling.

Meanwhile, the day has finally come. It's less than 24 hours away (the time of post is right!). Tomorrow, I'm there.

Prague.

Arrivederci, Italia!

Ever since my parents brought me back a gondola from Venice, I had been dying to visit Italy. Now that I've gone and said goodbye (arrivederci), I'm dying to return.

People say there's nothing to see in Milan, and that couldn't be farther from the truth. We stood in awe of the breathtaking La Scalla opera house, and then walked through the third largest cathedral in the world (Seville has the second largest). We saw a castle where the duke of Italy lived before it was taken over by French and Spanish troops. The tour ended with a visit to Leonardo da Vinci's famous painting, "The Last Supper," which is not actually on the wall of a church but still impressive.

Saturday was Venice, pictured above, and I fell in love at first sight. There's no place like it in the world, with hotels and palaces that sit on the water. Most of the streets are canals, and so there are no cars or motorcycles. My mom and I now have another special bond, and it is a love for Venice.

Keep an eye on the growing column of photos on the left side of the blog. I'll change the top photo whenever I add pictures.

I hope to get more photos and details up soon, but there's not much time to reflect. I am off to PRAGUE on Thursday. I've been reading books and looking online for what to do. I really enjoy learning about the city and planning the trip.

Morocco, Venice, Prague. It doesn't get much better than this.

Off to the fashion capital

Me? Going to the fashion capital of the world, Milan (Italy)? It sounds a little crazy to me, too. But bright and early (rally time is 5:30 a.m., probably 11:30 p.m. your time!) tomorrow I am headed out to Italy. It's the country I've been dying to go see for quite some time. Friday afternoon and evening is Milan, with a tour that includes the Duomo (cathedral), "The Last Supper (Da Vinci's famous painting) and the operahouse. Saturday is Venice ("The City of Water"), which is supposed to be among the most beautiful cities in the world.

I'm still sitting on more pictures and experiences from Morocco. At the moment, the most notable tidbit is that the trip has left me with a two-week stomach virus. I'm hoping I can still enjoy the deliciousness that is Italian food, but I'm not worried.

Internet at home is on the fritz again, so I'm not sure when you'll hear from me next. Until then.

Ballin'

A couple of weeks ago, my roommate and I went to a soccer game.

Buying tickets was easy. I walked two blocks straight out the front door of my apartment to the stadium's ticket window two days before the game. Five minutes later, I had a pair of tickets in my hand.

Sunday was game day. It wasn't exactly like a Philadelphia Eagles game, but the stadium, Estadio Ramon Sanchez-Pizquan, held the same fanatic party atmosphere. Fans stood outside talking, singing, drinking and getting amped for the big game. Inside the party was only bigger. In Philadelphia, everybody sings the Eagles fight song after the Birds score. In Seville, fans chant and sing nearly nonstop during the 90-minute match.

The game itself was great, especially from third-row seats. A friend told me it was the best effort he'd seen from the team all season. I actually prefer soccer to a handful of American sports. There may be few goals (actually three on this night), but the action doesn't stop for 90 minutes, which is much more time than the major American sports. Though the clock keeps rolling for goal celebrations and fouls, lost time is added back at the end. By the way, soccer players are terrible actors. Americans think basketball players are bad, but soccer players will just randomly fall and ask for a foul on the opposing team.

Everything is simple. The scoreboard only shows score and time, there's no special halftime entertainment or crab fries sold on the concourse. Fans are just there for the game.

You can find photos here from the team's 3-0 victory, while I've posted a video below. Listen closely to the crowd.

5,000 words

A picture is worth 1,000 words. More to come.

From one crazy world to the next

I am back in Seville. I had an amazing time in Morocco, and I have hundreds of photos from the trip that I will eventually get around to posting. For now, I am without Internet at home and incredibly busy, so check back late this week or this weekend.

Josh the night owl

I'm not going to even bother telling you how late it actually is here. Let's just say that Morocco is only a few hours away. I can't wait to get away from worrying about exams, internships and grade-point averages, but mostly I'm excited to go to Morocco. Riding camels and traveling through the desert are just some of the perks.

I was hoping to post more, but I have some summer internship work to put to sleep before I hit the sack myself. One of my November resolutions is to make time to blog. I have stories about soccer games, crossing the sidewalk and family reunions, which will likely take the backseat after Morocco, Italy and Prague.

Oh, and just because you post anonymously doesn't mean I don't know who you are. Choose your words wisely.

But for now, I am off to Africa through November 5. Happy Halloween!

Ch-ch-ch-ch Changes

After about two months of blogging, I thought it was about time for a change.

You may have noticed the column of photos along the side, which I added to spiff things up a bit and show some shots you may not have already seen. I'll be updating pictures periodically as I travel around Europe throughout November. I also loosened up the comment restraints, so now you can comment without worrying about an account. Random side note: This photo comes from the castle in Trujillo.

This evening, I'm headed out to a soccer game and soon to Morocco for the first five days of November. But I'm not really looking forward to leaving at 5:45 a.m. Thursday, which is actually only 11:45 p.m. Wednesday for you if you're on the East Coast.

Look for at least one more post between now and then. Stay classy.

Josh vs. Man, Josh vs. Rabbit

First possibly stunning fact: You haven't seen anything from my new camera yet. That said, this action shot comes from last weekend's trip to Merida, Caceres and Trujillo, more specifically the Roman ruins of Merida. Battle No. 1: My esteemed colleague Ethan and I waged an epic struggle where gladiators and animals fought each other to the death hundreds of years ago. By the end of our vicious fight, I had the 20,000 proud (actually just a professor) asking for Ethan's death. I was victorious. Moving on.

What you're about to read next may shock you. It might not, depending on how attached you are to rabbits. If you happen to be particularly fond of those furry creatures, you might want to stop here.

Second possibly stunning fact: Last week, I had an exquisite meal. That's right, your worst fears are true. Battle No. 2: I ate rabbit. Before you start accusing me of being a terrible person, you should know that ... I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and don't feel a tiny bit bad about it! OK, that's not entirely true. Let me back up.

In Spain, people eat rabbit. It's not exactly a delicacy, but it's not a common fix for the munchies either. Keep in mind that this is the same country that kills bulls for sport. So, one day my housemother asks me if I'd be interested in eating rabbit for lunch one day. I was a little apprehensive, but my roommate and house brother Carlos were ready to take on the task. Despite playing with his food (in bad taste with rabbit at the table), Carlos was highly disappointed. I was not. Rabbit has a similar taste to chicken, just a little stronger, and it is best served with potatoes. Mmm.

To summarize: Josh 2, Man/Rabbit 0.

A tale of three cities

As it turned out, I actually went to three cities this weekend: Merida, Caceres and Trujillo. Offered by The Center for Cross-Cultural Study, the free trip included visits to a tremendous castle (not pictured at right), a medieval quarter, the birthplace of Francisco Pizarro (conquerer of Peru), a convent for nuns, Roman ruins and more.

I feel like each trip gets better and better, though it's easy to say that with Morocco up next. This weekend, I got the chance to talk to people that I had barely seen since the first day in Spain, see some incredible sights, and learn a little bit about what the life of a nun is like. It's kind of random, but there's something new every day. And don't worry, photos are coming.

Leaving the nest

Something tells me that you've been waiting for this picture.

Finally, here is my living space in my apartment in Spain. It's not much, but considering the fact that generally I have a nice apartment, I have a great housemother (whose son hooked me up with Internet), and well, I'm in Spain, all is good.

Tomorrow I am headed to Merida, bright and early. At the end of the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s, General Francisco Franco had this ingenious plan to take his troops through Merida to get from Seville to Madrid. Ultimately, it helped him win the war.

Check back late Saturday or Sunday for more on Merida. For now, enjoy the cathedral, which amazes me every time I see it. (This photo is my new desktop wallpaper.)

Headed to paradise city

November might just be the best month of my life. We'll ignore the fact that I have to write a handful of lengthy papers by the time the month is over.

When I signed up for a school-affiliated trip to Morocco (first weekend in November), I was excited. When I said, "Hey, let's go to Venice," found somebody to go with AND booked the flight (third weekend in November), I was even more excited. But the latest plan I've made may surpass them both.

I was planning a trip to Barcelona with some friends, and one person was spitting out other travel ideas like sunflower seed shells. "Let's go to Rome, Paris, Africa, EGYPT!" she said. And then it hit me.

After credit card problems, failing Internet and a slew of other small issues, I have booked a flight to Prague. During the last weekend in November, three friends and I are flying first to Barcelona, then straight to Prague for two nights (48 hours) and finally back to Barcelona for an evening before an early morning flight to Seville. Confused? Here is the abridged version: I'm going to Prague. Last night I got so emotional about it that my friend couldn't tell if my emotion came from happiness or sorrow. I can't wait for Venice, but words cannot describe how stoked I am for Prague. Prague!

Weekend wrap-up with the 'rents

After traveling a week in Spain, my parents returned to Seville to spend some time with me last weekend (Oct. 5 to 7). Despite me getting sick again, we had a great time with flamenco, the beach and some of the most food I've had all semester.

Now I've had plenty of good food here, but I had been longing for flamenco and quality beach time. Flamenco originated in southern Spain and displays some of the most passionate dance performances. The performers we saw included a guitarist, singer and two dancers. Naturally the guitarist was my favorite. He played a Latin-style guitar, and the musicianship was incredible. The speed that his fingers scurried up and down the guitar neck, and the rapid rhythm and time changes as well as the complexity of his sound were equally impressive. The singer mixed wailing, hand-clapping and foot-stomping, while the dancers produced their own take on the genre.

The first dancer was a woman who was so immersed in the performance that her face contorted in almost discomforting expressions. She never smiled and her emotion poured through her performance. The man that followed was more of the happy-go-lucky type. Though maybe not as professional, his immense agility and suave style captivated a packed house. Another contrast between the men and women in general was their dress. The men were dressed in simplistic black and/or white, while the women wore elegant orange dresses. This contrast added an extra spark, and overall I enjoyed the hour-long performance.

The next day, we headed south on a road trip to the beach in Cadiz. The experience was a bit of a blur because I was fighting a cold. We had a nice lunch of about every fried food you could name (unintentionally). That night, after walking about 45 minutes or so, we settled in at a great restaurant in Triana across the river with a gorgeous view of the cathedral. We had some big dishes of fish, beef, salad and shrimp. Small, simplistic portions are much more common than elegant dishes in Spain, so this was a treat.

We said our goodbyes.

Seville's No. 2 Attraction

Next to the cathedral (figuratively and literally), the Real Alcazar is Seville's biggest attraction. More or less a mini Alhambra, the Alcazar is the royal palace of Seville, where Spanish kings lived, and others married, as early as the 14th century. See photos here.

Backtracking just a bit, last night I checked out "Eastern Promises," the latest film from Viggo Mortensen and director David Cronenberg (responsible for 2005's "A History of Violence"). Critics are salivating over it, and rightfully so. It may be more brutal than a bullfight, but it's well done. The film deals with the Russian mafia, so if you're into mafia, you'll probably like it.

That said, the movie-going experience was slightly different from the day before (after all this was a Friday night instead of a weekday afternoon). Tickets were twice as expensive, a man sat next to me explaining everything to his wife, and we had assigned seats. Yes, assigned seats. Rows and seats were numbered, and the tickets corresponded. A little unnecessary I think and difficult if two friends try to buy tickets separately and sit together.

While I'm on the subject of the movies, Myriam showed my roommate and I her movies. She's into a wide variety of genres, including American films dubbed in Spanish as well as actual Spanish films. She had everything from "American Beauty" to "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre." She's awesome.

And finally, an update on Italy. The flight is booked. The "hotel" is booked. Friday, November 16, to Sunday, November 18, two friends and I will be in Italy. Friday is Milan to see the Duomo (cathedral) and Leonardo da Vinci's famous painting, "The Last Supper." We'll spend all day Saturday in Venice, then head back to the Milan airport for an early morning flight back to Seville on Sunday. I can't wait.

One promise left unfilled. Check back tomorrow.

Spanish on the silver screen

After hearing horror stories of friends having to pay 15 pounds ($30) for a ticket to the movies in London, I wondered how my first experience at the movies in Spain would go.

A friend offered to go see "Hairspray" at a plaza just down the street from my apartment. However, someone told us that all of the music was in English, which of course, with a musical, means that the majority of the film would be in English. We made the last-minute change to "Ratatouille" and were not disappointed. Tickets were 4.60 euros, which is about $6.50. Not bad for a Thursday afternoon.

I would recommend the film to anyone, especially "Chef Jeff." It's about a rat with a passion for the kitchen who helps a kid cook at a top restaurant. It's animated, funny and intellectual. A character must decide between helping out a kid and living with his family. Nevermind that this is a rat, it's still a nice story. Nevermind that the film claims France has the best food (clearly Italy). But with American films, Spain has people who always dub the voices of famous actors. The Spanish version usually comes out a few months after the American version.

I couldn't understand every word, and after watching the trailer on YouTube, I realized I missed out many of the jokes. I still enjoyed the film and got more experience listening to people talk rapid Spanish. However, it was nice to hear people speak Spanish well, as opposed to people in Seville dropping every other consonant.

Also, there were only a couple of previews and a short animated film before the actual movie. The short film featured two aliens trying to transport a boy from his bed to the spaceship. This one poor little alien-in-training sat in front of a board of hundreds of switches, trying to figure out the right combination to bring the boy to the ship. He struggled mightily, as the kid ended up flying around the room banging into everything (while still managing to sleep!). It was funny, you just had to be there.

"In a Little While"

"In a little while
Surely you'll be mine
In a little while I'll be there
In a little while this hurt will hurt no more
I'll be home love"

- U2

Check back Thursday for the first of several postings that will include an update on Italy, photos from a palace in Seville and a recap of "the morning after" a second weekend with my parents.

Rome around the world

It looks like I won't make it to Rome this semester, so I'm glad I got to see the Roman ruins of Italica just outside of Seville. (That said, Italy still looks like a go to Milan and Venice.) This shot was taken in the arena where animals, gladiators and other men fought to the death. More photos from Italica are here. Meanwhile, here are some other notes from the past week in Spain.

I was watching TV during lunch a few days ago, and I saw a man killed in a bullring and another man lying dead on the street after a motorcycle accident. The report then showed motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic and riding on the white lines between lanes. People think New Jersey drivers are crazy, but some of these motorcycle drivers are out of control. But like I said before, there is much more viewer discretion in the U.S. For me, TV news is too extreme, because I think of the kids and the victim's families watching.

I learned some other Spanish culture tidbits in class. In Spain, it is free to get a sex change and to go to the doctor for whatever reason (coverage comes from social security). And at The Center for Cross-Cultural Studies (where I take my classes here), students and professors used to smoke in class. I'm glad I'm here now.

Myriam's daughter came over for lunch today. Carlos was making hummus and found a half-dead cockroach in the kitchen. Myriam started screaming and went nuts. Carlos sprayed the kitchen and the smell drifted to the living room, where we eat. The smell was too strong, and we had to close the doors to the living room, which I didn't even know existed until now. And I was worried about mosquitoes (which are still eating me alive and are also the name for smaller motorcycles here. Fitting, I think.). In fact, Carlos was running around his room spraying last night after he had unsuccessfully tried to kill a mosquito.

Last semester, I lived in the basement of the Garden Apartments at Ithaca College. After hosting a fair share of creepy crawlers, I figured a house in Spain would be insect-free. So much for that.

Don't Stop Believin'

Unfortunately, the first playoff game for the Philadelphia Phillies has ended in a 4-2 loss. However, it is only one loss, and tomorrow is a new game and a new opportunity. For Phillies fans having a tough time stomaching the defeat, here's a video to lift your spirits. Credit goes out to The Zo Zone for picking this up. Jason, this one's for you.

Grab bag

Here's a crazy post in the middle of another crazy week.

• Having mom and dad around is even better than I expected. We found a couple of great bars to eat tapas (hors d'oeuvre type dishes) and knocked out most of the big tourist sites in one weekend. We had a few drinks at the Hotel Alfonso XIII on Saturday and saw the cathedral on Sunday (photo at right). My dad ate five or six meals on the plane to Madrid and the train to Seville combined, but now I may be eating more than he is. Hard to believe, isn't it?
  

• It barely rained my first month in Spain. Most days were simply blue sky and hot sun. Since my parents arrived Saturday, every day has rained, been cold, been cloudy, or all three for at least a few hours. I walked home through the pouring rain tonight. Way to go, mom and dad. Otherwise, my parents are touring Spain this week (with the new camera). They went to Cordoba and are in Granada today.
  

• The buses are becoming harder and harder to predict. Monday morning, the driver of one of my buses (I take about six buses every day) let so many people on that nobody could get off for their stop. Today, the driver only let people on at the bus station and wouldn't let anybody from other stops get on the bus. Any guesses for tomorrow?
  

• Philadelphia can finally enjoy October baseball as the Fightin' Phils prepare to square off against the Colorado Rockies. After saving grounds crew from the tarp in Colorado in July, I'm predicting the good karma will help the team win this series. I'll be watching on MLB.com. If you are a Phillies fan, this should make you laugh. For now, enjoy the greatest 6 minutes the Phillies have had in at least 14 years.
  

Lightning Crashes

For the first time since 1993, the Philadelphia Phillies have made the playoffs. I can only imagine the celebrations in the Philadelphia region. Phillies fans should enjoy this day, one that will remembered in Philadelphia sports history for a long time.

As for me, it's late and I have a long week ahead of me. I have photos from the cathedral, palaces, squares and all sorts of adventures with the family. This one is from La Plaza de España. More photos and stories are on the way.

Are you a Communist?

That's a rhetorical question, but it wasn't when my professor asked it in class. He cocked his head to one side, looked at a student up front and briskly asked, "Are you a Communist?"

This professor is quite a character. If he were a dwarf, he'd be Grumpy. If I were to compare him to a real person, I would compare him to Michael Serino, advisor of The Ithacan, the student newspaper at Ithaca College.

My professor refers to George W. Bush as "Georgie," talks about eating rabbits, calls a small group of people "four cats" and thinks everything is lousy. Otherwise, he's great. I have him for a class called "The Franco Era" (Spain around the 1930s to 1950s) and a Spanish society course.

Speaking of classes, the girl to guy ratio is interesting. Out of 14 students in my society class, I'm the only one with a Y chromosome. Out of nine students in my literature class, the same is true. My Spanish classes at Ithaca College were about the same, but it is nice. The girls here are much cooler than the guys for whatever reason.

Another plus is that I've found somebody crazy enough to go to Italy with me. That's right, yours truly is planning a trip to Italy around the end of October. If I can pull this off, I'd be very impressed. Stay tuned.

Many positives in this post. My housemother gave me an adapter that fights mosquitoes. I know it sounds crazy, but after being eaten alive for a month (mosquitoes love me), it's refreshing to wake up and see the mosquito bites going away instead of multiplying. Finally, we don't have actual books, just photocopies. We go to a Kinko's kind of place and watch as our "books" are photocopied and bound. The biggest upside is the price. It cost me a mere 25 euros for the majority of my books. Accountants, add 20, multiply by 10 and you'll get the price I usually pay for books.

Tomorrow I'm off to explore Seville, as there are no classes on Fridays from here on out. Saturday the parents are coming, the parents are coming! Watch out, Spain!

Meanwhile, the newest poll is up. I don't think the question will surprise you. And the photo above was taken in Cordoba. More on that adventure to come.

Night at the Museum(s)

I saw that movie with my brother Jason when it came out. Hey, it’s Ben Stiller, so I didn’t think it would be all that bad. Boy was I wrong. Now I have to admit that I’m all about guilty pleasures. However, this film had about as much substance as those fluff sandwiches you secretly hoped your mom would pack you for lunch.

On Friday night, six major museums in Seville opened their doors for a “The Long Night of the Museums.” Not the snappiest name, but oh well. As for the event itself, it was great in theory but not so much in reality. Most museums had lines snaking around streets, where you could wait for more than an hour just to walk through.

We went to an art museum first and saw beautiful paintings and sculptures. After I was yelled at for using flash (not the last time I would be reprimanded for photography this weekend), we wandered around and left a short while after. Everything was beautiful, but we had no idea what any of it meant. People working there thought it would be more useful to yell at us than tell us a little something about the artwork. It happens. My photos are here.

After a nice half hour walk around the city, we stopped at what appeared to be a Spanish fast food place. I say Spanish because there is quite a bit of American fast food (McDonald's and Burger King especially) all over Spain. It appeared to be fast because most of the food was made right in front of us, and many of the main dishes came with French fries. I went for the more traditional Spanish cuisine in a vegetable paella (a rice dish), for which I waited nearly a half hour. Still, it was definitely worth it.

Later that night, I found my drink. It’s red wine with Fanta, and it’s fruity and delicious. Unfortunately I won’t get it nearly as good in the states, but for now it will do.

I'll be there for you

Friday night, somebody else pointed out that I look like the character Ross Geller (David Schwimmer) from the TV series "Friends." This is probably the 50th person that has mentioned this to me.

On “Friends,” Ross is a hopeless romantic who gets divorced multiple times. He gets high in college and blames it on his best friend. He dresses up as the holiday armadillo to get his son excited about Hanukah. He gets stuck in jeans that are too tight, and he has a bad experience at a tanning salon.

More importantly, he’s intelligent and a trustworthy friend. He always tries to do the right thing and would do anything for his friends and his sister Monica.

That’s where our connection is made. On that note, I would like to say a tremendous thank you for keeping up with Tirando Cobre, especially to parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents for all of your comments, love and support.

I don't think anybody is suggesting I look like the holiday armadillo, but you never know.

Thunderstruck

Here are a few extra tidbits swirling around my mind today. Meanwhile, check out the view from my bedroom window.

• A wild thunderstorm raged through Seville last night. Though it rarely rains here, when it rains, it pours. Around midnight, a storm unleashed a fury of thunder and lightning right outside my window. I'm fascinated by thunderstorms (especially after the film "Twister"). In Seville, however, people don't exactly know how to react. My housemother started screaming at her son (who could barely walk). Traffic lights were still out at 8 a.m. today. Imagine the chaos. People say New Jersey drivers are insane, but there aren't even words to describe certain people here. People here also like to park their cars on the sidewalk.

• When businesses shut down in the afternoon, the streets are absolutely dead. There's no such thing as returning to work early to get a head start on the afternoon's work. Yesterday I learned that getting to work 25 minutes early means standing in the hot sun for almost 40 minutes. At least I learned my lesson.
  

• I met my exchange student, Fabian, today, at a nearby mall for coffee. Now, I don't drink coffee, but he suggested a cappuccino that seemed to be mostly chocolate. It turns out that it was (and I'm guessing) 60 percent whipped cream, 35 percent chocolate and 5 percent coffee. Naturally, I liked it, but I felt sick almost immediately afterward. I'm better now. As for Fabian, he's in his late '20s, and he's a down to earth and friendly guy. It'll be fun to practice Spanish with him and help him with his English.
  

• The Philadelphia Phillies are in the thick of a division and wild card race. With nine games to play, the team needs to be perfect in order to make the playoffs for the first time since 1993. Regardless of whether or not the team makes it, this has been one of the most exciting summers for baseball in Philadelphia in my memory. For even the casual fan, now is the time to watch. Earlier I watched the Phillies' big comeback from last night at MLB.com.

All good things come to those who wait

I haven't been slacking off or avoiding this blog. Honestly, this is the first time all week that I actually have some time to myself. With four hours of classes, three hours at my internship, three hours of transportation, an exam to study for or a paper to write every day, it can be difficult to find spare time.

That said, we just finished the intensive period of one class for four hours a day five days a week. Still, I learned more in three weeks than I did in any semester class at Ithaca College. The whole "immersion" helped a bit, but it was a usage class. We learned phrases and sayings that we could use immediately after class at home, on the bus, or anywhere really. For example, we learned how to say someone is "down to earth" and "I have to sleep on it."

Tomorrow I am off to Cordoba to see a synagogue, a church and a mosque. Monday we begin the class schedule that we'll follow for the rest of the semester. For now, here are some photos from Granada. I hope to post more from Cordoba some time on Sunday, but no guarantees.

Finally, this Saturday night, Dougystyle and special guest Pretty Penny bring you a countdown of the top 55 alternative rock songs from the '80s. Tune into Alternagold from 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. Eastern time every Saturday night only on VIC Radio!

The wait continues

This photo was taken outside the Alhambra with a few friends.

Patience is a virtue.

Granada

Saturday was one of the best days I've had in recent memory, and I had an incredible time in Granada.

This is me at the entrance to the Alhambra overlooking the city. I only have 10 photos because of technical difficulties, but I will post them and a full recap some time this week. Ta.

Almost forgot

Don't believe everything you read in this blog.

Anything I type is true, but the dates and times of these posts are pretty much random. For instance, the last post I wrote on the bull fight was actually posted on Wednesday I believe, but the blog says it was Monday. Times are also completely off. I'm going to try to figure out how to fix it, but don't hold your breath.

About the bull fight: Something like that would never fly in the United States. It's accepted here because everything is more extreme. For example, television news is much more graphic in Spain than it is in the United States. A few days ago, one story showed video of a man setting himself on fire. I think about families eating lunch and watching the 3 p.m. news. I can imagine little kids glued to the television and seeing this. It just feels a little bit too much to me. Maybe Spaniards have thicker stomachs than Americans, but it's just a different culture, it's a different world.

Apples and honey

First and foremost, I would like to wish all Jewish people reading this a belated happy and healthy new year. I didn't make it to a synagogue, and honestly I was too busy with classes and work (more on that later).

A few days ago, I was talking to my housemother, Myriam, and happened to mention that the Jewish New Year was coming up. She asked me if there were any special foods prepared for the holiday, and I eventually managed to say apples and honey in Spanish.

The next day, we had lunch with my roommate, Ben; Myriam's son Carlos (who lives with us); and Myriam's daughter. Myriam (whose name is in fact Jewish) brought out a plate of apples and a container of honey with lunch. My eyes lit up.

After soaking in Spanish culture for two weeks, it was nice to share a piece of my own culture with my house family. I had some trouble explaining the significance of dipping apples in honey, but I think they got the idea.

As for Carlos, he's been home the entire week. Last weekend, he went out with his girlfriend, had a few drinks and then tried to dance. He hurt his ankle and wound up in a cast. Thankfully, there was no major damage, and he's going to try to get out on the street this evening for the first time in about a week.

He talks to us like it's nothing, but Myriam was, well, not exactly thrilled when she found out. Still, the relationship between them is really great. I came home last night, and they were sitting in Myriam's room hanging out and watching television. I do think once kids get through the rocky teenage years and make it through college they learn to appreciate their parents more.

As for me, it's been a long week. I started an internship at a magazine company on Wednesday doing regular intern work. I've been typing up letters, writing introductions to stories, trying to transcribe interviews (that didn't work so well). So far so good, it's tough to gauge how the people there feel about my work, because they talk super fast in Spanish.

I'll be up bright and early tomorrow morning for a two-day trip to Granada. Details and photos to come. For now, the photo above is of my street.

Raging Bulls

The first bull comes out of the gate, and my friends and I immediately think it's a bit small. Though these bulls aren't as buff as the ones at the bigger bull fights, they can still take someone out with ease. The bull runs around the ring, as it thinks it might be free. But the games begin. Men with colorful banners lead the bull in a wild cat-and-mouse chase around the ring. As they try to tire him out, they use techniques to control the bull's path.

Horns sound and more people come out to induce the first contact with the bull. Men on horses wait for the bull to come close enough to striking distance. The bull approaches as the man tries to stab the bull in the back (literally and figuratively). In this stage, the horses are blindfolded so they'll hold their ground against the raging bulls. While they´re given a fair amount of physical protection, the bulls will often try to knock the horses over. It´s interesting to compare the power of the bulls with the raw strength of the horses. For the horses to withstand so much pressure from the bull and not move is incredible.

Once the bull is stabbed, the horses exit and the next stage begins. Three valiant men attempt to thrust a pair of rods where the bull was stabbed. It's almost like a dance. After a step forward and a quick fake, the man makes his move. He lunges at the bull and hurls the rods into the bull´s back before running for cover. Once the six rods are in place, the bull fighter comes out.

The fighter walks out to the center of the field and raises his (or her) cap to acknowledge the crowd. This lone fighter faces the bull and goes to work. Once the action begins again, it can range from invigorating moments to repetitious and seemingly redundant periods. However, this is the art of the bull fight. Now that the bull is weaker, the fighter must seize control and maintain it the entire time to be successful. Fighters have their own styles. Some use elegant dance-like moves, while others choose simplicity. An agile fighter may spark the crowd´s interest, but the end result matters most.

As fighters gain more and more confidence in their control over the bull, some may turn their backs on the animal. It comes off as a llittle arrogant, but it shows the comfort of the fighter, who will eventually sheathe his sword. It could take 10 minutes or more before fighters feel ready to kill. The final stage is most important, because if the fighter isn´t perfect in every way, the bull will suffer. The fighter must thrust the sword completely into the bull´s back to minimize suffering. Sometimes the thrust will not be clean and the sword will pop out. The fighter must then sheathe another sword to finish the job. Other times, the thrust is perfect, but the bull is too strong to go down, and the fighter must try again. However, when the fighter cannot provide a clean, swift death, it shows the ineptitude of the fighter and the crowd will boo or whistle in disapproval.

Once the bull dies, horses drag it around the field and out of the stadium.

At this particular fight, we saw a little bit of everything. We saw a female fighter, which is about as rare as rain in Seville. The three fighters were all young and inexperienced and made mistakes that added to the bulls´suffering. Some of the bulls were too weak to make it halfway through the stages, and had to be forced off the ground at certain points.

My thoughts? It was on my to-do list, and I´m glad I went. Some of it was very difficult to watch, especially in the bull´s final moments and the "parade" of it around the stadium after its death. In general, I´m against killing animals, especially for sport. But there was something entertaining, and I can easily see why it´s such an important part of Spanish culture. I´d like to see a bigger one, maybe in Madrid or Barcelona, with more experienced fighters who have mastered their craft. Watching the bulls suffer was difficult, especially in light of the ineptitude of the fighters. I enjoyed the experience, but I am still at ends about how I feel.

I leave it in your hands now. I´d love to hear what you think, so post comments if you´d like.

Calm before the storm

I hope you've seen the photos from the bull fight I went to Sunday night. If not, check them out in the preceding post. And in case you were wondering about the poll, the answer is "100 seagulls, where will they go?" The paper I wrote is along the lines of Alfred Hitchcock's 1963 thriller, "The Birds." This comes from the times seagulls have attacked yours truly just for eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. For those not familiar with the film, swarms of birds attack people in California. Now, without further ado ...

Sunday afternoon, we bought tickets, which ranged from about 10 to 50 euros (approximately $13 to $60). Ours were 11 euros, so we thought we'd be up in the rafters.

The fight was scheduled for 7 p.m., so we took the bus into town about an hour before. Outside the stadium, vendors were selling Coke cans for 2 euros, as well as other drinks and snacks that are sold at American sporting events.

The first challenge was figuring out where to go. In the states, you have a section, a row and a seat, so it's relatively straightforward. In Spain, the ticket shows a door (gate), section, row and number. In American stadiums, everything is logical and marked clearly.

Anyway, we entered the stadium and immediately noticed how close we were to the field. The place is set up with a lower section and an upper section. We were in the lower section, which is only a few feet away from the actual field. So we asked an usher where our seats were, and he motioned toward the section right in front of us. The section number wasn't marked anywhere we could see it, but the usher said we were in the right place. There were no seats, only spaces marked with numbers along brick rows. We noticed other numbers, but they didn't seem to correspond to sections or rows.

In the lower section, there are three rows, then a walkway, then the rest of the section, so it took us a moment to figure out that we were essentially in the sixth row. But the rows weren't even marked. Confusing? Believe me, I know.

Now I'm pretty thin and was sitting next to a friend who isn't much bigger than I am. Even we were cramped. In our section, everybody was packed in, while other sections were nearly empty. It has something to do with the way tickets are sold.

Once we settled in (with reasonable comfort), we flipped through the program. A friend noticed that a female would be one of three people fighting the bulls, which is really rare. We wondered how the crowd would react to her, and how she would do with two male fighters. Also, all three fighters were barely older than 20. This was a small-scale bull fight, with smaller bulls and younger fighters, but we knew it would still be intense.

Camera crews, foreigners and Seville natives alike gathered for the event. At 7 p.m., music from a live band in the upper level signaled the beginning of the procession.

A diverse group came out onto the field. Men on horses joined others wearing jewels and holding red banners. They took the customary stroll around the field and prepared for the first bull to come out.

To be continued ...

Bull Fight

This evening I went to my first bull fight. I will post comments about it tomorrow, but for now here are photos. These pictures are not for everybody. For some people, they will be too graphic and violent to view. But this is Spanish culture.
Photos from the bull fight

When Nature Calls

I am through week one of classes, and so far so good. If you're still wondering which topic I chose for my paper, look at the title of this post.

At the moment, I'm listening to Porcupine Tree and thinking about nature in general, but more specifically, the water. Last weekend the program took a trip to the beach. A few friends and I started throwing around a frisbee, and a 10-year-old Spanish boy named Juan joined us. We didn't talk much to him, but we tried to teach him different frisbee throws. After playing for an hour or so, he actually got pretty good. His biggest asset was that he had no fear. He wasn't intimidated by five or six Americans who were twice his age. He just wanted to have a good time.

Meanwhile, my roommate, Ben, and I have been taking advantage of the pool right outside our apartment. With all the little kids jumping in and running around, it can get a bit crazy. Just like Juan, the kiddies have no fear. They're not afraid to run around the pool, or push a complete stranger into the water.

Ben and I are trying to enjoy the pool as much as possible now because it closes in the middle of September for the school year. In Spain (or at least Seville), students have to take a test on everything they learned the year before. This happens right before classes start, so basically they're "supposed" to study for it all summer. I think this defeats the purpose of summer.

Anyway, it's Friday and I'm excited about the weekend. Tomorrow may be the beach in Cadiz (one of the nicest beaches in Spain), and next weekend could be the Alahambra in Granada or a soccer game. FC Sevilla is the big team around here, and people go nuts when there's a game. It's a little crazier than Philadelphia for an Eagles game, if you can believe it. Trying to get tickets is even harder, but I'm going to give it a shot.

I'm trying to stay away from American sports, TV, the English language, and even American music! They get "The Simpsons" in Spanish here, and I imagine I could find a sports bar to watch a football game on Sunday. My rooommate is a Cowboys fan, so it would be great to get to a bar for an Eagles vs. Cowboys game. We shall see.

I took some more photos, and I should have another album up early next week. It will probably include some shots 0f my apartment and the neighborhood, but for now, this is a shot of the fountains on a main street called Avenida de la Constitución in the middle of town.

One final thought. If you're into '90s rock and will be around/awake around the hours of 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. EST Saturday night, check out Alternagold on VIC Radio.

Have a great weekend!

Alfred Hitchcock

For the first time, I feel like I'm at school. I have a paper to write and an oral presentation to prepare for tomorrow. Until the week of September 24, I only have two classes, but one is 3.5 hours a day, five days a week. This is called the "intensive" period.

Tomorrow, I have a meeting with the director of The Center for Cross-Cultural Study (the study abroad program) to find out how my internship is going to work. I hope to post some information on that and a handful of other things by the end of the week.

Thank you for all of the comments. I am responding to e-mails, so feel free to contact me there as well.

For now, I leave you with a poll for you to guess the topic I chose for my essay. The professor gave us four abstract topics to take in any direction we wanted. Use the title of this post to help you figure out which one I picked.

You have until Monday morning. Good luck.

Photos are up

My first photo album is online. The shots were taken Saturday at a group trip outside of Seville.
http://ithaca.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2054876&l=7475f&id=13807611

Breaking it down

The apartment
I live in an apartment complex with a pool. I went for a swim today with Ben, my American roommate. Kids were playing with beach balls while. The little ones had these life jackets that were just precious. I can only describe them as cylindrical inflatables on their backs. Inside the apartment, there is enough space for the four of us: the housemother, her 28-year-old son Carlos, Ben and I. The mother, Myriam, I think is about 60 years old. She’s fantastic. There aren’t many rules beyond using as little electricity and water as possible (not overusing the fan, turning off lights when leaving the room, taking short showers). We can stay out as late as we want. In fact, she went out for a while last night. We have to speak to her in Spanish, but of course, we want to, and she’s pretty easy to understand. We see Carlos for lunch, but not much more than that. He has a girlfriend and leaves for work early during the week. He works with computers and, more specifically, the Internet. He tried to configure Internet for us at home, but no luck.

The room
I live in a room smaller than my double at Ithaca freshman year. Still, it’s enough for myself and Ben and our stuff, which is more or less anything I could fit into two oversized suitcases and two carry-on bags. There’s no air conditioning, and so we sleep ontop of the beds. The fan helps, and we’ve adapted.

The food
I’m eating more than usual. Myriam offered us breakfast at 12:30 p.m., but with a big lunch in a couple of hours, we waited. There are three solid meals. Breakfast is usually toast and croissants with a chocolate spread or fruit jam. Lunch is around 2:30 p.m., when all of the shops are closed for a few hours for “siesta,” which is basically a rest period. More on that another time. Lunch is two plates. Today it was salad and then chicken with rice. I don’t know what everything is, but I’m giving everything a shot and I’ve liked almost everything we’ve had to eat here. This is easily one of the perks of living in a home, not having to go out or pay for meals every day. We had sandwiches and kiwi for dinner tonight. Basically, an American dinner is a Spanish lunch and vice versa.

Spanish
The language barrier is not that bad. Ben and I talk Spanish almost all the time, which helps us both practice understanding and expressing ourselves. I understand Myriam and Carlos pretty well, but the average person on the street is much more difficult. People in the south of Spain (Seville included) speak a broken Spanish. They drop the consonants at the end of words, use a “th” sound for “d,” “c” and some other sounds. They cut off the beginning of some words, but it really doesn’t make it much more difficult to understand. It’s the speed and the vocabulary that are the most challenging. Speaking is another story. I’ve learned that my Spanish can get me pretty far. I’m thinking in Spanish when I’m not doing something in English, so that’s a definite positive.

It’s getting late and I need to be up early for the first day of classes tomorrow. I will post when I can, so check back later this week. Bedtime.