The End--Part 2

Home is a loosely defined term at best for me the last few years. If home is where the heart is, then I am decidedly divided, because the saying is too simplistic. If home is where your family is and where there are the most people who love you and have that love returned then my home is in New Mexico. Then again, if home is where you sleep the best, which I have come to think of as a barometer for the level of comfort associated with a place and the life you have there, then my home is in Ashland, Ohio; I sleep like the dead there because I crawl into bed exhausted and thoroughly satisfied with each day's work. So, tentatively, I am home. Maybe half home, maybe less.

I will not be able to relate all my thoughts on the Whole Experience here so I hope those of you who have enjoyed this will have questions if/when you see me. So as I take stock of the last three months here is what comes most forcefully to my mind:

• I would not trade the experience for anything. The group of friends I made and the experiences we had together were truly priceless. As is always the case most of the friendships will fade over time, but I truly feel in this case that several of mine will be lasting. I know most of you enjoyed getting to know Eddie vicariously and I find myself thanking God, to have been so blessed with such a roommate. He helped me to let go and try to enjoy myself, which is a part of my personality which needed coaxing out. When I would fret about financial concerns he always said "money is replaceable. The rest of this isn't". He kept saying it right up until we were both borderline or actually broke towards the end. Neither of us regret a dollar we spent, even if some of them went towards nonsense like overpriced drinks in clubs and cab fare for some girls we hardly even knew but who needed a ride home. To have saved or been miserly would have been doing Spain an injustice and I have Eddie to thank for pushing me in the right direction. I have him to thank for many, many other things as well.
• I had forgotten what schlubs Americans are. Within twenty minutes of stepping off the plane in Washington DC my eyes were assaulted by more sweat pants, tank tops, muffin tops and protruding beer bellies poking out of too-small t-shirts than I could comprehend. Say what you will about the Spanish work ethic (and I'd be among the loudest critics have no doubt), but the laziest and most carefree Spaniard would be mortified to have his belly poke out from under a t-shirt. He would never wear a simple t-shirt in public in the first place. Not even the children are so poorly dressed.
• I miss the food terribly. It seems odd because it was so simple. Nothing Reme prepared was exotic or extravagant. In fact, I miss the bread the most. I miss sitting down to a meal with a little basket of several fresh loaves sitting in the middle of the table. I miss the two most important words in Spanish: "A comer!" Reme's call to inform us lunch and dinner were ready. I especially the dislike the sheer excess of food in my own house. The way our society has moved away from preparing fresh food every day and towards pre-cooked, pre-packaged nastiness which Wal-Mart specializes in is a shame. More than that, there is ample evidence it is one of the key factors in our challenge with health and weight. 
• I have had one siesta since I got home several days ago and it was glorious. I lay on the couch trying to fight and keep my eyes open watching sportscenter, and then I thought, "what the hell am I fighting this for? It's 3 in the afternoon, prime siesta time." So I rolled over and passed out. Dad rolled me over at 5 and asked if I was going to sleep the rest of the day away. He meant it jokingly because I could have done just that and nobody could have stopped me, but just the words themselves were so American. What, you're sleeping? In the middle of the day? What's wrong with you?
• Despite the pace I put on I inevitably ran smack into the "Oh christ there's so much I haven't done yet" wall last week. For example, and this is one of the big ones, I never set foot inside Sevilla's cathedral. I walked past it a hundred times, and ran past it dozens. A lot of the time even if I was running I would slow down just to touch it, just to have my hands on a building hundreds of years old. For some reason I never got inside which would have been as difficult as walking downtown with the intention of entering at the right time of day. I clearly recall the Saturday morning the school visit was scheduled for; we were supposed to be there at 11 to meet Judy and go inside, but waking up at 10 after going to bed at 6 was an insurmountable task. And hey, the cathedral would be there. I could always go see it another day. Right? Right..........

I'll be back to Spain sooner or later. There is no doubt in my mind that I must return and commit myself to a complete immersion in Spanish for one, and to visiting the northern coast for two. I may have tired of Sevilla towards the end, grown weary of the lack of novelty and unnecessarily overburdened with my restlessness. Still, a little part of me will now always call Sevilla home. I slept just fine once the temperature dropped. As we were boarding the plane back from Rome only a month ago Eddie said "I'm so glad to be going home to Sevilla." All four of us stopped and thought about it for a second, and realized it fit. Sevilla had become home, if only for a brief time.

The End--Part 1

And so, as with all good things there must be a conclusion. It should not have been like this though. Eddie and Ellie and I spent two days in Granada and had an awesome time. I'll get some pictures up asap. We got back earlier tonight, Friday night, and after dinner Eddie started freaking out on his computer. Turns out his parents had originally booked him a ticket for Saturday the 10th. They were working on getting it all changed while we were in Granada so he could stay another two months; he was going to live with a different family and help teach their kids english, which is a path a lot of American students take. After dinner though his mom informed him they : 1. Never did manage to change the ticket. 2. Couldn't change it now, as it would cost 1000$ extra to move it back one week or eight regardless. 3. He needed to pack up and be ready to be on his 7:30 AM flight from Sevilla to Madrid.

He found this out at approximately 11:30, which meant he had exactly 8 hours to pack and say goodbye to the people he could say goodbye to. The list is woefully small. Ellie and I, as she was still awake. He's heading to meet one of his other really good friends halfway. She was in tears on the phone. I'm tired. There wasn't too much sleep to be had in Granada as we were having entirely too much fun. So maybe it's me being slightly exhausted but this is just too surreal. It was supposed to be me saying goodbye to Eddie a week from now and him staying on for a little longer. The silver lining is he's in Detroit which is a paltry three hour car ride from Ashland so I'll definitely be able to go see him at some point.

I'll be eating lunch alone for a week, for my last week. This can't be right.

Rome

I'll do my best not to gush. Rome was Rome. First of all, it's a devious city. I have never in my life been so lost in a city or in the mountains. We had three maps between us, one person who spoke Italian, and the first day we spent an hour completely turned around and wandering. In the end we were only ten minutes from our hotel and of course felt collectively silly for getting so mixed up. The streets are laid out with no purpose, no rhyme or rhythm, and what's even worse is how they are named. The same street can quite literally take a 15 degree jog to the left after two hundred yards and suddenly its a new street. It took me two full days of watching the sun go down to believe that was west. So in a sense, Rome beat me up. Never had that happen before.

I'll throw this out there and see how I feel about it after some reflection: Rome may be Rome, but I like Sevilla better. I know I have some bias and more experience and therefore more comfort with Sevilla. However the cab drivers at the airport screwed it up from the get go. We got in around 10 PM and the Ciampino airport is about 8 miles outside the city center, or a 15 minute train ride. We had the option of waiting for a 4 Euro bus ride to the city center or taking our chances with a taxi. The lines for the bus looked forever long so we opted for the taxi. It was a stupid decision for many reasons. Lets count the red flags: 

• every single cab driver looked like a murderer. 
• Nobody was taking cabs. Everyone was waiting for the bus
• The girl in our group who spoke Italian had a conversation with the guy and communicated to us that according to him, the area around our hotel was currently closed to car traffic so he would be taking us to a train station.

You get the idea. Our friend thought he meant the Termini station, which would have been 5 minutes from our hotel and not a problem. But no. He took three or four turns and dumped us outside the Ciampino station on the other side of the airport and demanded 20 euros for his services. Normally Eddie and I would have protested being screwed over so hard, especially since we had no idea how to utilize the train to get where we needed to be and it was now almost 11. But, you know, murderer and all. We paid. 

Long story short, it seemed a whole lot worse than it was. The train saved us money in the end, and coming back we had a much better understanding of the train and bus system so it only cost us 3.60 E a person. Public transport over here is just generally better. For example, in Rome one can purchase a train and bus ticket good for an hour. You can get on the tram system then get off and catch a bus then get back on the tram, or vice versa, or whatever you feel like as long as it is within the hour.

So the start of our adventure was a little rough but nothing awful. The hotel location was perfect and we got a great deal because we were staying four nights. The silver lining of the first evening was the little restaurant we found still open at midnight. The pizza was unbelievable. I have quite a few pictures of us with pizza because it was 1. delicious and 2. cheaper than pasta and 3. enough food in one serving. The food was amazing in general. One of the girls' dads we were with told her to take us out for dinner one night and put it on him. Brave of him. We took full advantage to say the least.

We walked for 5-6 hours a day for three days straight so we saw just about all of it. To the pictures.

I don't know who this guy was but the sinister nature of the Catholic Inquisition was palpable.

Fishbowl--handmade Italian pottery

These little water spigots are everywhere in the neighborhoods and side streets. The water is delicious.

This little plaza was tucked away in the warren near one of the street fairs. It looks almost Spanish, or at least very similar to neighborhoods in Granada. Beautiful.

View looking down from our hotel room. That fruit stand stays open until 3 in the morning. Very late by western standards, way too early for those accustomed to Spanish nightlife.

This church was just down the block and the bells going off at 8 AM calling the faithful to mass stopped being quaint after the first time.

Melanie was excited.

This was taken from the top of the Spanish Steps, which are beautiful and all the rest of it but what the hell were these guys doing? At first I thought 'Oh cool they must be actual professional racers doing a promo for something.' But no. Just regular Italian guys all dressed up in their matching outfits. It seems stereotypical but every single Italian guy around my age looked like a greased up peacock. It was ridiculous. They give the Spaniards a run for their money in the pride category.

Crowd around the Trevi fountain.

Pizza! The crust is much much thinner, crispy, flaky. The sauce is obviously better and the toppings more delicious.

Ah, bones. This was creepy and so so cool. I fail to understand who would take the time to sort through thousands of years of bones to collect all the same ones to put together mosaic-like conglomerations, but here we have just that.

The city is especially beautiful around the river as it is in full-on fall mode right now.

And all these are from around the Vatican. We didn't go inside unfortunately. Budgets were tight on the food front, much less museums etc. It's just an excuse to go back.


All in all, it was an amazing Thanksgiving weekend. It ended too quickly and despite our prolific pace we didn't do everything I would have liked to. I will have to go back eventually.

Granada is incredible

I half wish I had found a feasible study abroad program for me in Granada. It's just a little more my speed. Even the Spaniards refer to it as a college town, sort of. I don't know any college towns in America with palaces and churches and gardens over a thousand years old but that's beside the point. We toured the Alhambra first on Friday afternoon and honestly we were rushed through in about two hours which is sad. There was so much hype from our professors and even other Spaniards about the Alhambra in all it's splendor and we had no time to linger or to sit and contemplate. The palace and the gardens sit on about fifty square acres and we covered every inch of it in our two hours. Mira.

War has been a constant and intricate part of Granada's history. The topography makes the city a natural fortress, sitting above the plains with a reliable water supply. It was the last Muslim kingdom and stronghold; when the last Muslim ruler capitulated to the Catholic King and Queen, Ferdinand and Isabella, in January 1492 it signaled the end of the Christian "reconquest" of Spain.

This kid was just too cute and backlit by the sun and all.

When you look at the tile work in these pictures take note of the colors. The faded blue and green like this are original, in some cases almost a thousand years old. The newer pieces, or as the tour guide explained everything within reach, the lower levels, were done by the Christians after they took over the city.

This is the waiting area, a sort of open antechamber to the official reception rooms. Foreign dignitaries, ambassadors etc. would be kept waiting here for their audience with the Muslim sultan. It was a calculated political move--the longer one was kept, the longer he had to contemplate the beauty and grace of the tiles, and the novelty of a working fountain this high in the mountains. And there was nowhere to sit.

Eddie is a little dark.......

The reflections off the pool were particularly impressive.

Still dark.

 Central garden and fountain in the royal family's section of the palace.

This picture looks weird and I should ahve zoomed in a little more. This is just a big dome with the odd little crenelations you see in the other pictures.

Mad this picture didn't come out focused. The kid was precious once again.

That's better.

Do you know how to say pomegranate in Spanish? Granada. Now you know.

Even though it's mid-November the garden were immaculate, roses everywhere, among other flowers and massive trees.

I want to live here.

We stayed on the 5th floor of a decent Hostel. 5 people in a room made for not so much sleep--more on sleep in a minute. I've always heard it's overrated and couldn't understand how those people operated. Hooray for Europe opening my eyes.

Ellie was being a party pooper Saturday morning but this spot looks out over the city from one of the oldest neighborhoods.

Ohhhhhohohoho now this was the second best part of Granada. Like I said before it's much more of a college town and stuff was so much cheaper. Pictured above is a huge stack of chicken being slow-roasted in an Arab-Mediterranean kebab shop, which are all over the city. Eddie and I discovered this place about dinnertime Friday night. For 3.50E we could get a shawarma, which is basically a decent sized pita stuffed with this chicken, vegetables, cheese and a cooked egg. I can say without a shadow of a doubt it was the first time in my entire experience here I felt i got my money's worth where food was concerned. The only other time was maybe in Portugal when they had a bargain of a massive container of Nutella. So Eddie and I had 6 of these deals between us in a day and a half. They were delicious.

This is on the side of Granada's cathedral. I don't know why it's done like this, but I love it. I don't think I'm going to look up the story. I like not knowing.

Now the best part of the weekend was going out Friday night. The world is such a small place: my second week here in Sevilla I met a girl in a bar who is really good friends with one of my buddies back in Ohio. She said when we came to Granada to hit her up and we could go out. First of all she was awesome to hang out with. Secondly, Granada's bars have one of the sweetest deals ever. For any drink you purchase you get a free tapa. Tapas can range from some olives and crackers to basic sandwiches to a few pieces of cooked meat. A big group of us ordered ten beers at a bar and five minutes later two platters full of little sandwiches and french fries came out. Total cost: 22E. Do the math. It's a steal. Every bar follows this tradition to some degree or other. Awesome.

Now for the sleep bit. Dani, the mutual friend who studies in Granada, took us to an Irish/British bar that had SPORTSCENTER! on the tv. Eddie and I had had quite a bit to drink by the time we got there and we hugged each other when we saw it. People looked at us a little funny. It was so cool though. Anyways, Eddie has been complaining this afternoon about how tired he is. We both got 8 straight last night so I told him there's no reason for it. Then we sat down and thought about how much sleep we each actually had last week and this weekend. It's a little frightening:

Eddie Lipsey:

• Monday--8 hours (incredible)
• Tuesday--4 hours (normal)
• Wednesday--5 hours
• Thursday night/Friday morning--0 hours. Seriously. He was out with friends hanging at their apartment and made it home by 7:45 to be on the bus by 8:15
• Friday day--2 hours on the bus to Granada
• Friday night/Saturday morning--3 hours. He came back to the hostel from a club about 7 am.

My schedule is a little better but not much. The only reason we can function like this (if you had told me to get three hours of sleep and show up to class in Ashland I'd have just laughed at you) is because of the magical siesta. I'm no less lucid or productive in class here although the classes require less. I can sustain the energy knowing I can pass out for an hour or two after lunch then get up and go exercise and start it all over again.

All in all, a stellar weekend in every possible way. I have none of the complaints I had with Madrid. Thursday at 7:05 Eddie, Ellie, Melanie and I get on a Ryanair flight to Rome. The hotel is booked. Museum reservations made. I'm ready. I won't have two seconds to think about missing Thanksgiving at home for the second year in a row. Not that I don't love my family..........but, you know. Rome.