The Amber Chronicles

2009-02-03T19:26:00.000-08:00

That's a Wrap!

2008-12-20T15:58:00.000-08:00

I just realized that I never wrote a final blog, and for that matter, I left it on kind of a sad note since I was sad to leave England and my flatmates. Well, you will be glad to know that I have lightened up considerably!

Coming home surprised me since I expected it to feel totally weird and unusual, and it did not. It was so amazing to see the family and Roxie and sleep in my own bed for the first time in MONTHS! Other things such as seeing my friends and working for Roger felt strange at first, but is feeling better and better. So all in all, I am SO happy to be back and am loving spending the holidays at home.

I have been able to stay in touch with my flatmates thanks to the miracles of the world wide web, so that has been nice. We are all on winter holiday at this point so it does not feel strange to be apart from them. I really have not thought much about the "whole experience" in Europe, but every day little things come to me like "Oh, that reminds me of that crazy Italian guy" or "The chocolate in England tasted much better than this shit." Sometimes I say these things out loud, an sometimes I just think it to myself.

So anyway, thanks to everyone who kept up with this blog! I realize it was kind of sporadic, but it was always great to hear your comments and know you were able to share this journey with me. And who knows? Maybe I'll keep another blog someday on a future adventure!

A Blog About Nothing

2008-12-10T06:03:00.000-08:00

I've been sitting before a blank screen trying to think of some words of wisdom to sum up my time here, or even the past couple of days, but I've got nothing. And while I know a blog saying that I've got nothing to say is a pretty pointless concept, I felt like it says everything in its own way.

Everything I could say about the past two weeks would be completely cliche: Yes, I am a mixed bag... Excited to come home, but sad to leave. Really, I just have to laugh at myself because all along I've been thinking Oh, I go home mid-December, and won't that be nice and I am so excited about this and this... So I basically thought I was ready to leave. But now, since it has been two weeks since Amsterdam, my body clock is saying that it's time to travel again... And I am itching to do so! Except I leave tomorrow night so crap about that. Crap.

I guess I will be traveling, though, since I will be taking a 4-hour coach ride to 4-hours of waiting in the airport to a 10-hour flight to Dallas and 5 more to Portland. And if you want to think about it in a "coming home to a different place" sort of way, I suppose I am traveling back to my old life. Which at this point seems so surreal I can't even imagine it.

I guess I'm just down because I am now immersed in the process of packing up my room and the whole "saying goodbye" ritual, which I just hate. What I should focus on is who I will be saying hello two in a few days, and that is the light at the end of the tunnel.

Amster-Damn, that is one fiiiiine city!

2008-12-03T12:32:00.000-08:00

So awoke last Saturday to the sound of my phone buzzing. "Hellloooo?" "Amber. Where are you? It is 5:10, and the cab is here." Oh shit. We were supposed to meet at 5:00am. In an instant my drowsy, sleepy body experienced a rush of adrenaline and that horrible feeling that anyone who has overslept feels. This never happens to me, I repeat NEVER happens to me, and of course, it had to happen on the worst of all possible mornings.

I literally threw on some clothes and booked it in the freezing cold pre-sunrise morning to where Laura and Kelly were waiting in the cab. After we take off, the cabbie proceeds to tell me that "you really shouldn't be late for these sort of things, ya know." For lack of a better expression, !?!!!?!?!?!?!!!!

But by the sheer luck of happenstance (and the fact that the Norwich airport is literally the smallest airport I have been to in my life-only 4 gates!) we made our flight with relative ease. Sleeping on the plane was impossible since we barely reached cruising altitude before the pilot announced our short descent into Amsterdam airport, and we were there.

First Impressions:
-Amsterdam is freezing cold.
-Amsterdam has a very efficient public transportation.
-Amsterdam is very unaccommodating to tourists, especially students. There were no discounted prices for students at any of the museums, and the hostels were insanely expensive such that an entire flat was cheaper than a bunk in a 16-bed dorm. We went with the flat. I guess when you consider the large majority of students who go there just to party, it makes a little more sense.
-Amsterdam is a very easy place to travel because everyone speaks English.

We spent the majority of the first day just wandering the streets and canals and getting a sense of the city. Despite the cold, there were heaps of people out shopping and going to the museums. I loved the houses and shops that lined the canals, and could spend forever wandering around them.

After wandering til we could wander no more, we visited the Van Gogh Museum, which rated the top of our compiled "must see" lists. It was a visual feast. Van Gogh is now my favorite painter. I cannot say this for every museum and famous artwork I have seen here, but staring at the originals of Sunflowers, Irises, the Apartment beat the reproductions to the ground. No contest. The thickness of the paint and vivid colors left my eyes swimming in oranges, yellows, and blues as we left for the grey world and muted tones of the Amsterdam outside. Starry Night was not there, to my great dismay. My guess is that it is in the MOMA in New York, since they somehow have managed to snag the best of every collection.

After that, we were quite tired, having (theoretically, in my case) awoken at 4:00 am, so we headed over to our hotel. I should mention that the reason we got a hotel over a hostel was that the hostels jack up their prices to nearly double on the weekends, and often require a minimum of four nights stay. Well, we just couldn't do that. So we paid an equal amount of money for a triple room in Hotel Washington. The kindly man at reception informed us that we were on the top apartment, and swung open a door to LITERALLY THE TALLEST FLIGHT OF STAIRS IN AN APARTMENT. And there were three of them! The man laughed cruelly and swung the door shut as we looked ahead to the stairway to delicious, restful heaven.

Our suite had a kitchen complete with dishware and dining table, living room with a piano, a balcony with a view, and a bedroom they somehow managed to squeeze three beds into with about a 2 inches of space in between. Each bed got increasingly smaller, making us feel like the three bears. I got to be the Mama Bear, since Kelly is only 5 ft on a good day. Yay, for not being the shortest one all the time! It was wonderful to have such a comfortable place to go back to (despite the monstrous stairs) and I thought it would be totally cute as a first apartment.

The next day we did a Canal Cruise, which was a great way to see the city from the water; spent a good while in the History of Amsterdam Museum, which none of us were really that interested in but we needed to kill time before; the Anne Frank House. This was the highlight of the second day. It was very personal and to-the-point. Instead of housing a million artifacts that could have theoretically belonged to the 8 people hiding in the secret annex, the house kept it very real, only displaying her personal affects. As there are not many, the rooms were rather bare, at the most containing a video, a quote, and an artifact.

I liked particularly liked this because 1) It was quite refreshing after the Museum of Amsterdam that is absolutely jam-packed with random, unnecessary artifacts, and 2) It seemed to be more about the absences than a roomful of stuff. Also, it made the experience very real. This was a real family that lived in hiding, forced to tiptoe all day and use the bathroom as seldom as possible, and worst of all, stay indoors 24-7. I can't even imagine such an existence, but I consider it a good thing that Anne Frank is able to put a face to the millions of deaths. So often I think there is a tendency to distance oneself from that event (which was really not that long ago), but Anne Frank keeps it in today's conscious.

So there is the obligatory digression to the Haulocaust (every tour of Europe should have one, I think), and the deepest rumination this post will get! Don't worry! After the Anne Frank house, we were well-content to go back to the airport and wait to come home. We had a great time in Amsterdam, but all three of us were ready to come back to Norwich. Partly this was due to the fact that we each have a massive amount of essays due in the next twelve days, but also we were just ready to get home.

Which brings me to another point: I can't believe I come home in 9 days. I don't think it will hit me until I'm actually on the plane. I have mixed feelings about this: sometimes I am SOOO UNBELIEVABLY EXCITED to get off the plane and be in beautiful, wonderful Portland (I've got a thing for that city, if you can't tell), and other times, like most of this week, I actually get quite sad at the thought of leaving my flatmates, especially a particular few who I have grown rather close with in the past few weeks. I will miss them!

One of the things that has surprised me during the past five months is how close you can feel to random people, and then completely move on and forget about each other. At certain times, I felt very close with other travellers or friends from Spain, and it was just understood that we would move on and perhaps never see each other again. I have made stronger friendships here (seeing as how I have been here much longer), and know that should I ever happen to return to England, or visit Berlin or Sidney or (god-fearing) St. Louis, Missouri, I would have people to stay with. That is a comfort, but it certainly feels weird leaving these friendships in a manner of days.

Even though it is so close, it still seems so far considering the two essays I have due next week, along with last dinners, concerts, parties, and local sight-seeing with friends. Would you believe it that I still haven't been to the Norwich castle or our most famous visual arts centre?! I guess what they say about never being a tourist in your own city is true... Ok. Time to end this long diatribe. Pictures of Amsterdam will come when I upload them from my camera, and I make no promises of when that will be!

The day snow came to UEA...

2008-11-26T09:12:00.001-08:00

I know what you're thinking: "Two posts in one day? She must be done with her work!" But sadly, that would be the wrong assumption to make. Something more along the lines of "She can't read another novel or string sentences together to form logical thought to save her life!" would be closer to the truth. And since I updated about the weekend before last, I might as well just tell you about last weekend as well... Since we're on a weekend theme here.

Last weekend it snowed at UEA.

This in and of itself is not the most earth-shattering news to hit the world. I mean, it IS winter, and we ARE in England. A snowfall was bound to occur at some point. But what I am interested in is people's response to this otherwise unextroardinary (I guess that would be just "ordinary"..?) event.

To be fair, while I love my flatmates to death, they are not the most mature crayons in the box. (Case in point: last night's dinner table discussion: "Why do men like boobs?") So while I may be examining not most representative group in the population, I believe some of these conclusions can be universally-applied.

Saturday morning, we awoke to a fresh blanket of snow. Correction. We awoke to Ellie screaming and banging on the doors that it had snowed. Even more alarming was how everyone, rather than rolling over and going back to sleep like normal college students, actually got out of bed before noon and began jumping about and screaming in various states of excitement.

And where was I in all of this? Why you better believe I was jumping and screaming right with them! At its best, Portland gets an average of one snowfall per year, and half of the time its the kind that disappears the moment it hits the pavement. So while unlike my Indian and Australian friends I have experienced many a snowfall with all of the delights and activities contained therein, it is still rare enough to elicit excitement.

Most interesting was how it magically turned my "homework weekend" into a "blow off homework and play in the snow weekend." What can I say? My gumption to edit my Jane Austen paper fell away with each falling snowflake. Instead, we walked, we sledged (English word for "sled") on the single hill in East Angia (one of 5 in England and 12 in the greater UK region), we made a double-sided snowman that could simultaneously stare into our kitchen and at the outside world at once... We even partook in an epic snow battle between Norfolk and Suffolk Terrace that involved two sides of about fifty residents threateningly lobbing snowballs at each other before charging with battle cries in Lord of the Rings manner. And in the evenings (evening being 3:30 in the afternoon when it got dark) we would stumble home, frozen and soaked, to hot chocolate and movies in our Christmas-lit kitchen. Basically, it reminded me of the best snowfalls of my childhood.

So call it what you will. A type of precipitation in the form of crystalline water ice, or the means of regressing an entire body of University students to 10-year-olds, snow is wonderful, and will always be a welcome weather in my forecast. And its most untimely disappearance by Monday reminded everyone that yes indeed, the semestre ends in three weeks, and no, unfortunately those papers will not write themselves! So, dear snow, until the next weekend when stressed-out students need reminding that other things exist than...well...being stressed-out students, so long!

Belated Post on Edinburrrrrr-ahhhhh!

2008-11-26T08:11:00.000-08:00

I would like to formally apologize for my pitiful presence in the blog world lately. I guess when you spend all day trying to convince your professors that you are brilliant, you run out of steam to do it on the internet. At this point, I cannot be bothered to do a full post on Edinburgh, so I will tell the story in photos. Like a picture book! I apologize. This is the most my mind can summon at this point.
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This is our giddy happiness to finally have arrived in Edinburgh after a grueling 10-hour HOT coach ride. From left to right, we have Bisma, Vania, Emily, Huong, Laura, me, and Johnny. This was supposed to be a "girl's photo" but Johnny jumped in at the last minute. When he found out our scheme, he said "What? This is sexistic!" That is why I am cackling.

We were all quite giddy the first night in Edinburgh. Even though everything was dark, the lights were a perfect teaser and excited us for the next day's explorations. Later, my friend Laura would buy a street artist's painting of Edinburgh at night because it reminded her of that first fun night.

This is a street off of the Royal Mile. To get the flavor.

Laura and I had a delicious lunch at this "literary" restaurant where J.K. Rowling among others wrote while nursing a cup o' joe. We sat there for a long time trying to harness some of that divine inspiration for our papers... not sure it worked...

Edinburgh castle behind us.

This is a view of "modern" side of the city with the loch behind. The loch is called the "Firth of Forth" which was hilarious to hear Johnny try to pronounce.

William Wallace was there! To remind us that they will never have OUR FREEEEDOM!!!!

A view of Arthur's Seat from the Castle. The others hiked this the next day while Laura and I were being nerds in the Museum of Scotland. I kind of regret not going because it sounded amazing.

The Castle again.

We saw these guys! Adorable little chessmen that are among the oldest artifacts in Scotland. Their little faces were so cute!

On Saturday we went to a night club. Which I have determined are the same everywhere.

Happy Amber. ALBEIT COLD AMBER!

So there you have it folks. They say a picture's worth a thousand words, so I hope these images are a suitable replacement for the vivid imagery and charming description of my regular posts. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Save me some pie!....not joking.

"What should Amber do with her life?": A Poll

2008-11-19T09:08:00.000-08:00

Please cast your vote with letters A through F.

A. Do Teach for America for two years.

B. Teach English in a foreign (preferably Spanish-speaking) country for a year.

C. Work for a publishing company until I decide I hate it and earn $ to go to grad school.

D. Find an a rare job working with special collections or book preservation. Perhaps pursue that in grad school.

E. Find a job anywhere where I can read and/or write.

F. Other:________________________
(write in)

Thank you for voting!

The Invite

2008-11-19T02:07:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long absences. The excuse is a happy one: I have been spending more time living my life than writing about it... Also, school papers make me never want to see a keyboard again. Hopefully, I will post a blog and pictures from my AMAZING trip to Edinburgh last weekend, but until then I thought I would share the invite to the Thanksgiving I will be attending next Thursday.

Traditional Thanksgiving Feast

Are you an American missing home? Or a British or international student who always wondered what all the fuss is about? If so, why not come and immerse yourself in the festivities!

Enjoy a traditional all-you-can-eat Thanksgiving feast with turkey, a vegetarian option, and all the trimmings. And afterwards the Union Pub will be showing the American Football game between the Dallas Cowboys and the Seattle Seahawks in the Blue Bar.

The dinner will be £16 and you can eat as much as you can and there is no admission to watch the American Football. Arrive for dinner at 18.30 to get a seat and have a drink before dinner which will start at 19.00.One drink will be included with dinner and will be either a soft drink, one bottle of Budweiser or a glass of American wine. You will be able to purchase more drinks at the bar in Vista.

The all-you-can-eat buffet menu

* Roasted Turkey or
* Spinach, Parsnip and Butternut Squash Roulade served with
* Gravy, Cranberry Sauce and Sausage Meat or Vegetarian Stuffing
* Roasted Potatoes
* Baked Sweet Potatoes
* Mashed Potatoes
* Corn
* Cream Spinach
* Green Beans with Chestnuts
for dessert
* Pumpkin Pie
* Pecan Pie
* Apple Pie

After dinner head over to the Blue Bar to an exciting American football game which starts at 21.15. Don't worry if you don't understand the game or the rules, I am sure there will be plenty of people who do and they will be happy to explain. Nonetheless it will be a truly festive atmosphere and night.

My favorite parts:
-Watching this "American football game" is apparently a fundamental cornerstone of our culture. And, you know, those pilgrims and Squanto didn't really do anything that important.
-The drink list features Budweiser and "American wine"! Even the cheapest of European beers would send Budweiser running for the hills.
-I just love the menu's conscious effort to present a well-rounded Thanksgiving feast with three types of potatoes and three types of pies.

While the thought of a mass-produced Thanksgiving that I actually have to pay for (I mean, isn't it free?) was originally less than appetizing, I am actually quite excited. I have loved absolutely everything I have done with the international students; we are all willing to sample each other's cultures and cuisine. Besides, St. Louis Kelly and San Francisco Michael and I were realizing that we would really miss Thanksgiving if we just ignored it. So while I may have class earlier that day (grrr!) I will be turkeying it up with the best of them for dinner. And who knows? Maybe I will even fade into my turkey-induced stupor to a rousing game of American football come nightfall! I could even help explain the rules.... Well... sort of.

Pictures

2008-11-08T05:32:00.000-08:00

Oh, and for anyone who is interested, I posted pics from the last week here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2197906&l=15ed8&id=11513535

An English Ceilidh

2008-11-08T05:07:00.000-08:00

So last night I went to an English Ceilidh (pronounced Kaylee) without any notion of what exactly I was getting myself into. The organizer of the event explained to us that English is missing its folk culture, and it's true. Everyone knows what traditional Irish music and dancing is, and even Scottish folk with the bagpipes and kilts is well-known, but England is one of the only European countries that doesn't have a traditional costume and music. Even most English people get stumped when asked what their folk culture is... Part of the reason for this is the prominent role the Industrial Revolution played in shaping the nation; smaller folk culture kind of faded out. By the end of the night, a roomful of international students understood English folk better than most English.

The night had the potential to be a total disaster. There was a single caller explaining to a roomful of stunned international students that they would be hopping and sliding around the floor like the people at a Jane Austen ball, but everyone got really into it until we were all laughing and clapping and hopping around like rabbits. My partner for one of the dances ended up being a great big guy who swung me around so fast, that I nearly lost my footing. He seemed to think this was rather funny, and did it over and over again until I had had about enough. There was a band composed of guitar, violin, banjo, accordian, etc. and the tunes sounded almost Irish, almost Scottish, but not fully either because they were English. There were even some folk singers who sang songs about men whose homing pigeons flew away, and one about a woman who covered herself in goose poo, which was amusing.

I met a ton more international students, and it really surprised me how intent most of them are to learn English. I have met a handful of students on exchange such as myself, whose classes aren't even going to count toward their home university when they return. Whyyy then are they studying here, you may ask? The single most often explanation is to learn English better. One fellow studying science explained that English is the language of the sciences. All the scientific papers are in English, and if you want to succeed in the field, you MUST be able to maneuver in the circle of English science.

In many cases, it is often about forward motion too. I asked my friend Johnny if he missed speaking German, and he said no, not really, that he was here to perfect his English, and didn't want to speak German as much. He said that when his German friends spoke to him in German, he would respond in English because that he what he is here to do. This surprised me, because when I was in Spain, I was SOO happy whenever I met another English-speaker, and would speak very fast, easy English to them. I know that if I had insisted on speaking Spanish all the time, I would have learned it all that much better, so the fault is mine. I find their insistence to learn English inspiring, and it kind of reminds me of how all the immigrants that came to the States must have felt when they left their home country and language behind. It IS crazy and kind of scary to think of how imperialistic this language has become, especially in academics, that people who don't need to learn it want to in order to pursue a certain career or line of study. Could English possibly become our global language someday? It certainly seems like a possibility.

Cotswolds

2008-11-05T07:46:00.000-08:00

I can tell I am being influenced by the English because I am beginning each of my posts with a discussion of the weather. Continuing in that vein, yesterday was beautiful with some peaks of sun through the clouds, and today is just drizzly enough to create a halo of water beads on my frizz, but not enough to justify umbrella usage... However, I have been walking around with a smile on my face ever since I awoke to Nicholas' voice with the news that Obama had won. Moments later, my German friend Johnny texted me saying "Congratulations! You can be proud to be an American again!" Here's hoping! Everyone I have run into has been very happy about it; my American friends I met up with and I just clutched each other this morning as an unspoken congratulation.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Yesterday was the full-day Cotswolds Discovery tour, which I am so glad I did since I would not have been able to see half of the villages I did by public transport or larger bus. Also, I was able to reconnect with some of the amazing people from the Stonehenge tour. The Cotswolds are a 50x90 mile patch of English countryside that are known for their rolling hills and Shire-like English cottages. Cotswold literally means farm on the rolling hill. They were originally prosperous for woold production, but fell into economic hardship as the industrial revolution swept the nation forward, leaving these bucolic, thatched villages behind. It was magnificent touring through this region because there were hardly any other tourists, and mostly farmers and shopkeepers going about their business. Here are the villages I went to: Castle Combe, Tetbury, Bibury, Stowe-on-the-Wold, Upper-Slaughter, from which I walked to Lower-Slaughter, Moreton-in-the-Marsh, and Chipping Camden. Most of these villages required a brief stop to oooh and aaah and snap a photo or take a cup of tea since other than that...well, there wasn't much to do. Which was exactly why I loved it so much.

A few of us used the tour as transport to other destinations. We stayed at various hostels/B&B's in Stowe, and met up later for dinner, which I was happy for since the small village shut down at 5pm and streets were clear by 6pm, leaving absolutely no nightlife. Since I am poor, I ordered but a meager salad, but the older man bought my dinner, making me wish I had ordered the lamb or venison or other such fancy meats. I met a kindred spirit in his son, who is my age and is couch-surfing around Europe for the next six months! As a seasoned traveler, I was able to give him some advice, making me feel extremely cool as a woman of the world.

Oh my god, there is so much more to say, but my internet is running out in this library! I will have to finish when I get back to Norwich tomorrow evening. Honestly, I feel like I could keep traveling for another five days. It's been so wonderful. But I guess I have to rejoin the real world at some point.

Thank God for free internet in public libraries!!!

2008-11-04T08:45:00.000-08:00

Second day in Bath and still no rain...yay! In fact there were even some moments where if you looked really closely, the clouds almost hinted at the blue sky behind them. Actually, I am pretty sure this is just wishful thinking.

I spent the morning in the Jane Austen Centre, which although gimicky and lacking in true Austen substance, was fun for the sheer sense of the Austen community that is out there. I am not the only one! Also, it really solidified an idea that I had secretly been harboring about the resurgence of interest in Jane Austen's work in the past few years. Movies like "Discovering Jane" and "Lost in Austen" reveal a renewed interest in her biographical side, and within the past year, the BBC has come out with at least three new adaptations of her novels. Even the widely popular Bridget Jones' books and movies suggest an interest in Austenien conceits applied to the modern day. I have decided to incorprate this into my thesis. Really, it fits in too perfectly, since I am looking at reading and the novel in Jane Austen's time. What better excuse to re-watch some of my favorite movies than for the solemn duty of research? It will be interesting to look at modern reviews, to see how today's readers have co-opted Austen to fill their modern needs. Also, it will give my thesis a greater sense of applicability rather than being "just another Austen thesis..." Clearly, my thesis will determine that everyone is just waiting for her Mr. Darcy to emerge dripping from a lake to take her away...

The afternoon was spent on a Mad Max Minibus tour of Lacock and Stonehenge. Lacock is a cute Cotswold Village that got me excited for tomorrow's full-day tour, and Stonehenge was actually quite exciting for me. I know what others have said: that it's cliche, looks exactly how it looks, and is a total tourist trap, but there's something about staring at those giant pieces of stone that were hauted 250 miles upriver and set in a circular calendar with absolutely no solid idea of who did it or how. They've determined that it wasn't connected to the druids, but the site is over 4,000 years old! How could the builders have even moved, let alone create columns and bridges of these stones?! It's elevation is really high so it was windy and freezing up there, but for me only added to the mystery of the place.

So that's my sappy £2 about Stonehenge. ( That's meant to be 2 cents, but there is no cents sign.) Today I did a tour of the Costwolds, which was all kinds of amazing. I think I sighed and thought "How adorable!" about fifty times. A few people from yesterday's tour were there today, which was fun. A handful of us got off in this quaint little village called Stow-on-the-Wold, and are meeting for dinner soon, so I had better go. But I will write more about the Costwolds tomorrow, and add pictures when I get back to Norwich! Thinking of you all, and GOOO OBAMA!!! I'll know by tomorrow morning, baby! EEEEEEE!!

Bathing in Bath

2008-11-03T01:51:00.000-08:00

Arriving safely and happily in Bath has reminded me of a very important thing: I FREAKING LOVE TRAVELLING!!! I love wandering the streets of new and interesting places... I love falling asleep tothe sound of snoring on a saggy mattress in a roomful of nine of hte most awesome strangers you will ever meet. I love that I am sitting in a cozy room with them right now watching The Transformers. Basically, I love the backpacker's lifestyle because you can wake up with the certainty that that anything can happen that day. In Norwich, I had settled into a comfortable routine of school, friends, the basic necessities of life... this turns that on its head. But one is no better than the other. We need a sense of home, and the excitement of adventure. Both are necessary to fully appreciate either. So basically, I am ecstatic to be on the road again, and I hope I never forget how much I love it.

It is funny the people you run into. As a twenty-something American female, I find that I am an unlikely demographic to be travelling, especially in the BITTER COLD of the English winter. This seems to make me very approachable to the friendly stranger, easing my loneliness and in some instances heightening my caution. For instance, I was downing a much-needed sandwich/killing time in a Subway yesterday when a man sat down accross from me and inquired into what I was doing in England, etc, etc. It was all good and well until he began asking, quite insistently, that I give him my name so he could add me on facebook. Since I was in Bath, I decided to follow in the example of my heroine Jane Austen and give a pseudonym. However, the minute he asked my name I blurted out "Amber" without even thinking about it. I did have the sense, when writing it down, to change my surname. So Amber Baker, if you're out there, m apologies if a random man friends you on fbook.

Not to give the impression that you don't also run into a fair amount of awesome, amazing people. I find that I am a likely target for older couples to "take under their wing." They always start with "Are you alone?" and then a "Oh my goodness!" usually follows shortly thereafter. I don't mind. In fact, I rather like it. Last night, I bought a £3 "standing ticket" to the show Cabaret at the Theatre Royal. Literally, this means that I am standing behind the seated patrons, but standing next to me happened to be an older couple from Seattle of all places! I did not think I would be able to say, here nearly 5,000 miles from my home, that I was from SE Portland and hear "Oh, I love the Hawthorne area!" Like me, they are here for three months, but are working in London doing architecture or accounting or something random like that. And yes, Cabaret had full frontal male nudity, but no, it was not tasteful to the show.

Today, I had several self-realizing moments when I caught myself thinking "Omg, Jane Austen ambled down this very promenade" or "Jane Austen took tea in this very assembly room" or "Jane Austen may have very well relieved herself in this water closet" and then immediately follow with an "Omg, I am such a literature nerd!" Many of these moments were realized on my 2.5 Jane Austen walking tour of the city. What can I say? I'm a nerd. I also toured the Fashoine Museum and the Roman Baths, whose steaming waters are over 10,000 years old! I was very overcome with the glory of it all and how genius the Romans were in their architecture and heating methods when a tour guide enlightened us to how the Romans scraped dead skin off their bodies with olive oil and knives, burned their leg hair with hot chestnuts, or plucked their arm pit hair... *shudder* I guess when you consider all the painful things people do for beauty today, it puts it in perspective. But STILL...

A few different things than when travelling in the summer: 1) It is freezing! Easily combatible with my down coat, but the CONSTANT rain of the first day was harder to deal with. I hope it holds off... 2) It gets dark about five hours earlier, severely limiting sightseeing/walking time. However, this hostelis very warm and cozy, so I will just have to sightsee earlier and chill later. 3) No Mikey :( But I am loving travelling alone.

Tomorrow, I am seeing the Jane Austen Centre in the a.m. and Stonehenge/village of Lacock in the p.m. Hope all the election excitement is going well! Someone had better let me know the minute anything happens!

Future Plans!

2008-10-30T11:10:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! Sorry for the long absence. For the past two weeks, I have buried my head in a pile of books and pumped out two papers, WHICH I turned in today!!! YAY! It feels amazing. Doubly so, because I have fun plans lined up! Tonight I am seeing American Pulitzer and Nobel prize-winning author Toni Morrison ("Beloved," "The Bluest Eye") speak at UEA's International Literary Festival. Tomorrow should be a fun Halloween since everyone here is keen to celebrate it "American-style," meaning actually celebrate at all. Apparently after the age of 8, Halloween is a thing of the past for most Europeans. A sorry fact they are ready to set aside in homage to this spectacular holiday. Many flats are even decorated with black and orange streamers and pumkins. But like everything, it is also different. For example, people actually dress up as Halloween things for Halloween. My flatmates are being: a ghost, a witch, a black cat, a pumkin... I explained that no one in America dressed as such stereotypically "Halloween" things, and they were all offended. So it looks like were going to celebrate "old school" this year!

The Saturday after I leave for five days of travel. I am so excited about this. It is the image that saw me through many a late night of paper-writing. I am certain that no one else would have fun on this personal tour because it appeals to my nerdy literature side. Thus, I have dubbed it my "literary pilgrimage." I am also excited to travel alone again, make random traveling friends, and walk all day long if I want to. Here is the game plan:

Saturday: Arrive in Bath
Sunday: Day in Bath: Roman baths, Bath at work, Costume Museum
Monday: am: Jane Austen Centre (!!!) pm: afternoon tour of Stonehenge/village of Lacock
Tuesday: Costwold Villages with Mad Max Minibus Tours (highly recommended by my guru Rick Steves) Sleep in the hostel in Stow-on-the-Wold
Wednesday: Stratford-upon-Avon and Shakespeare sights!
Thursday: Warwick Castle. Return to Norwich in time to watch the Sex and the City movie with Laura and Kelly.

I had to do some revisions: cut out Oxford since all their hostels were booked on the one night I could be there, and Jane Austen's house in Acton because of train issues. However, I will try to see these places before I go. I am ecstatic! Oh, I should probably mention that all of this is made possible by "reading week" in which we don't meet for class, but are expected to get ahead on reading...yeah...right.

And about a week after I return is the International Student Society Edinburgh Trip! A lot of my friends are going on that one so it should be fun. The weekend of Thanksgiving, Laura and Kelly and I are going to Amsterdam. But after that I think I should actually do some papers and reading... It is, after all, what I am "officially" here to do.

One more thing before I go: So Monday my friend Johnny from Germany and I decided to finally see the boys choir do Gregorian Chants at the Norwich Cathedral. We have been putting this off, and we finally made it. BUT, instead of the choir, it was a regular prayer service, and we were sitting front-and-center so we had to stay for the whole thing. At the end, Johnny was like "and vhere vas the singing?" I guess there's always next time! But dad will be happy to know that I actually went to church here, even if it was the Anglican church.

To redeem the night, we thought we'd head over to the Norwich Beer Festival, which features local brews and ales, but it was the first (freezing) night and the line went all the way around the Hall. We weren't going to wait. So instead we hit up a local pub and had some generic, not-special pints, that were still quite good. Johnny practiced his English, which got increasingly worse the more he drank! It was fun, and the Joker would have loved it since it... "didn't follow the plaaaan..." (picture Heath Ledger's voice).

I will try to update throughout the week, but I'm not sure where and when I will have internet. It is the travellers most elusive friend! Until later, dear friends!

A Random Update

2008-10-23T14:48:00.000-07:00

I should preface this post by saying that I have not been anywhere new, seen anything particularly amazing, nor have I taken any pictures of churches, pubs, or lawns. But the past few days have been pretty great, so I thought I'd share:

1) Tonight as I walked home from a play, I walked past a man who was urinating against the side of the bookstore. He turned halfway around and said, "Sorry about this, love... Sorry!" I opened my umbrella to cover the offending article, said it was fine, and moved on. The Best Part: If he had not turned around, I would not have noticed him at all.

2) The play I saw was called "Fresher's Week" and it chronicled the craaaayzy first week of parties for the Freshman at University, and how the rest of their lives will never be as great as that one week. This is not just my interpretation of the play; a girl came out at the end and gave a lengthy monologue saying just that. How life stretches out after Fresher's week with the pressure of classes, graduation, finding a job, working for fifty years before the sweet release of death can claim you. I found it to be depressing for two reasons: Firstly, the aforementioned "final note" of the play. And secondly, apparently the best week of my life has passed, and I didn't even get to enjoy it. Yes, my friends. As much as it may surprise you, I did not dress up as a Barbi or Fireman with the 18-year-olds, and stay out til 7:00 am before a 9:00 lecture. These weary bones can only do so much.

But in all honestly, what a depressing message to give the freshman! Either "whoops! you didn't go crazy enough during Fresher's Week, so get used to a boring, monotonous life" or "Yay! You went crazy during Fresher's Week! Now get ready for your boring, monotonous life!" What happened to making your experiences what you want them to be!?! That is what I have done (or tried to do) during this whole trip, and it is the only way. Looking back, if I had just sat around and waited for things to happen to me.. Well, it would have been pretty lame. THESIS MOMENT: Catherine from Northanger Abbey does this very thing at a ball, and has a very boring time. I think Austen is commenting upon JUST THAT.

But it was fun cheering on my friend Benjamin (who lives on 26th and Clinton in P-town, and we only met in England!) and meeting up with my buddy Johnny from Germany who enjoyed picking up on the low-brow humor. Tomorrow, we are going to the Norwich Cathedral to hear the boy's choir do Gregorian chants. We have been postponing this event since we planned it, so we'll see if it actually happens.

Things I recently learned how to do: Roll sushi and make a paper crane with the Japanese society!!!! I am very proud of this. It is a skill I wish to take home. My buddy Michael from San Fransisco and I are going to go to the weekly Japanese-language meetings too!

Things I miss from home: Roxie's cheek puffing out when she's sleeping soundly. Seeing the lights of Council Crest accross the city as I fall asleep. Cooking (anything) while sitcoms play in the background.

Things I am excited for: The ROLL I finally got on while writing my paper today! Turning in my papers. My literary pilgrimage to Bath, Cotswolds, Oxford, Stratford-upon-Avon, and Warrick, then Edinburgh for the weekend... after my papers.

Ps.

2008-10-17T04:43:00.000-07:00

NOTICE HOW LONG MY HAIR HAS GOTTEN!!!

Four Days in London

2008-10-17T01:55:00.001-07:00

"

England had a football (soccer) game yesterday against Belarus. Three international friends and I decided to go to a local pub in town to see what it was all about. It was quite the cultural experience. The old pub was called Murderers and had newspaper clippings and information about the world's greatest unsolved murder mysteries such as the Kennedy assassination. Which was kind of a dangerous idea for a roomful of burly men from their 30's to 60's with pints all roaring at a single television. I didn't want them to get any ideas... There was nowhere to sit. There was hardly anywhere to stand. So we huddled in a corner without a view of the game. I don't know what it is about football, or sports in general, that does this to people, but when you can get a roomful of men to simultaneously erupt in various displays of grunting and growling and table-smashing, it is quite a phenomenon. England won that night 3-1, and shortly after the pub cleared out allowing us a chance to sit and hear each other talk. One fellow had a bet that England would win 3-1. After the game ended, I congratulated him on his victory, but he did not seem so pleased. Apparently by "winning the bet" he had to buy the next round!

London was amazing. As one of Europe's leading powerful cities, there were moments when all the layering of history was just overwhelming. An example of this would be the Tower of London. The original "tower" was built shortly after the Norman Invasion for Oliver Cromwell, but even before that there were remnants of the old Roman Wall that they used for one of the walls of the castle. Later it became a prison whose chopping block saw the necks of Anne Boleyn among other unfortunate Henry VIII wives. And Sir Walter Raleigh was imprisoned there after multiple upsets with the crown. When he returned from a voyage to the West Indies without gold, they finally gave him the ax. The crown jewels were just gorgeous too, and I just wanted to reach out and touch them. We spent almost all day there and when we left, I had diamonds in my eyes.

Another biggie was the British Museum that housed many artifacts and artwork from many ancient civilizations including Assyria, Greece, Rome, Egypt, Asia... basically everywhere. In these giant museums, you do get something I like to call "the louvre effect" where there is just SO much to see that you body and mental capacity cannot hold up to see it all. You could seriously spend a week in these places and not see everything. That's just how they are. We did get to see the Rosetta Stone, an Easter island statue, Tutenkamen's mummy, and some "bog people." Which were amazing.

Probably one of my favorite parts of the trip, aside from the glorious food, was seeing Billy Elliot the Musical. It was INCREDIBLE and has to be one of my favorites. It was playing at the Royal Victoria Theatre across from Victoria Station, and just around the corner from our hotel! For those of you who haven't seen the movie, it is about a little boy growing up in England during the 1980's and the miner strikes against the conservative government of PM Margaret Thatcher. In this environment, Billy grows up encouraged to take boxing and with the unspoken certainty that he will join the mining profession as his forefathers. Instead, after a boxing class, he decides to stick around and watch the "bally" or ballet class for girls afterward. He joins that class and becomes amazing... and... well, I won't spoil the rest. It's incredible tho. Go out and see it.

So London was wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that I am haveng an exceedingly difficult time getting back to schoolwork and thinking about my papers. Well, actually thinking about them is fine... writing them sucks. As far as travel plans go, I am going to buckle down here for the next two weeks and work on my presentations/papers I have due. But after those midterm things are taken care of, I am going to embark on four weekends of travel: my personal English pilgrimage (Bath, Oxford, Cotswolds, Statford-upon-Avon, and Warwick) during our "reading week", Edinburgh with ISS, Wales with Haggis Tour Group, and Amsterdam with some friends. I am so ready to get out there and travel more, but PAPERS FIRST ARRRRGHH!!! Then I will write my final papers, and come home! It's going by so fast, it's scary! Lastly, I want to thank grandma and grandpa for an amazing four days, wonderful food, wonderful company, and the chance to see some family when I am half-way across the world. You guys rock!

Freezing my Bum off in Cambridge!

2008-10-04T14:05:00.001-07:00

So I awoke this morning as I do every morning: to the possibility of any kind of weather. The sky had just that sort of gray tinge that could mean a torrential downpour or the parting of clouds and the potential of a beautiful fall day. I have to prepare for either situation. The Key: Dress in layers. I had a light T-shirt, followed by a wool sweater, followed by a poofy down jacket. It could have sizzled or it could have snowed. I was ready.

And it's a good thing too. Because upon arriving at the bus stop, my weather.com-checking friend informed me it was supposed to be 0 degrees in Cambridge. Mind you, that is Celsius but it's still 32-freaking-degrees Fahrenheit, and last time I checked, that was freezing! And freeze we did. We took a two hour walking tour around the town and "The Other University," as Oxford calls them. There is quite a rivalry there that puts Beaver-Duck fans to shame. It was really fascinating learning the history of all the different colleges, their founding, their rivalries with one another, and the different buildings. We went inside the famous King's College Chapel, built by Henry VI before the War of the Roses, and saw the partition King Henry VIII put up between the secular and religious part of the chapel in honor of his love for Ann Boleyn. And when I say "chapel," do not be mistaken. This "chapel" is literally as huge as many a Cathedral, including the Cathedral of Norwich! Maybe Henry VI was compensating for something....HA!

I am definitely going back, though, because my friend Ayesha and I decided we MUST see the King's College boy's choir, that is famous throughout the world. Little known fact: Four boys train for the solo at the beginning of the internationally-broadcast Christmas performance, and the boy who gets the solo is only notified by the conductor the minute he is about to start singing! It's supposed to keep them from getting too nervous, but in my opinion, it would make it worse.

We also got a great sense of the historical greats that have gone to Cambridge. We saw the bar where Francis Crick and James Watson took their celebratory drink after cracking the "secret of life," or how DNA carries genetic information, the great research lab, the Cavendish, where Rutherford discovered the electron, Darwin's school, and a bridge rumored to be designed by Sir Isaac Newton! Although literary greats such as E.M. Forestor,William Wordsworth, Lord Alfred Tennyson, and Salman Rushdie attended Cambridge, we really didn't see anything connected to them. Boo!

I spent the too-short free afternoon warming up in a little coffee shop, and perusing old book stores. Which introduced me to my newest obsession: Old Books! The smell, the paper, the binding, who's read them, what they thought... all reveal me to be a hopeless English major. It also presented a roadblock: Old books are ridiculously expensive. I even found in one store a very old-looking copy entitled "Jane Austen Papers" that I almost justified for the purposes of research, but couldn't pay the 80 pounds in the end. Pity. I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the winding streets, the market, and the colleges you didn't have to pay for. Before I knew it, it was time to go. I will definitely be coming back tho.

Flatmates 3.0

2008-10-02T13:11:00.000-07:00

In our flat, we are ten: Rubie, Jenny, Ayla, Ellie, Ed, Rob, Ben, Belle, Kate, and me: Amber. Want that again? Rubie, Jenny, Ayla, Ellie, Ed, Rob, Ben, Belle, Kate, and Amber. In our kitchen, we have one table with six chairs, four tea kettles, one refrigerator (I know...), ten cupboards with nine locks, and about a thousand leaflets for take-away food. We also have a window overlooking The Brood, the lake. We are nine of us 18, eight of us social, seven of us girls, six of us from country towns, four of us on the top floor, three of us international, and two of us have been to Venezuela.

Although technically, this is my third-time around, thereby making me a seasoned professional, it always amazes me how living with people bonds you so much more rapidly and openly than common friendships. Differences are thrown aside and faults humorously embraced within days of meeting each other. Case In point: I am three years older than everyone else, and have awkward American habits like eating copious amounts of peanut butter from the jar, and am in my final year of college... none of this seems to matter at all! Strange as it is to say, it feels like we are a little family.

This is not always an easy thing. Everyone knows everyone else's business. In a manner of an hour, the strange noise from Rob's room becomes "Did you see the girl Rob was with last night?"
Rob declares It was the TV! Also, tiffs are inevitable. I came home yesterday to find Ben and Belle in a row over the rice cooker. Apparently, Ben had failed to clean it out and Belle (the house mother) put it in front of his door as a friendly reminder, causing a VERY big accident when Ben stumbed out of his room this morning, half-asleep... This is what was heard as I ascended the stair to my room: "It's just a bloody rice-cooker!" "So clean it!" Ben then accused Belle of being on her period, to which she responded with a violent stream of feminist points, none of which helped her case any.

But then there are more fun aspects too. For instance, when Ayla mentioned she was going to a Viking party for her Deviant Society, Ellie burst into excitement at the prospect of dressing her up as a Viking with the horns and sword and fur hide... We asked where she was going to get all this stuff, to which she responded "In my closet! Right next to my ax, bow & arrow, and rapier." Ellie is a theater major, and while that may explain the closetful of weaponry, it also unqualifies her to be in possession of such tools. I said if we ever had a burgler, I knew which room I was going to.

It's very nice to always have something going on, although this can also be a negative when one has entire novels to be read the next day, and people to come home to. I was home late one evening after my day in London, and my flatmates came to me the instant I walked in the door: "Where have you been? No one has seen you all day!" They are already saying: "It's going to be so weird after Ambah leaves! We're going to be such a close little family, and then Ambah will go and we won't let the next person in, after Ambah!"

Norwich: A Cutie!

2008-09-28T14:25:00.000-07:00

May I first say how absolutely wonderfully British my flatmates are! Case in point: we have three tea pots sitting on our stove at all times for those emergency tea parties! They say wonderfully British things like: "Now he's a right bloke!" and "I tripped over my trousers on the way to the Uni!" I find myself smiling at them all the time cause they are so darn cute. Tonight we ordered take-away Chinese and had a movie night, and they were all awed and excited by fortune cookies! My roommate Rob who had never had one before ate the fortune without knowing. It's also funny watching shows like Family Guy with them because they don't necessarily get all the jokes and clips that pertain to American pop culture... I'll laugh about something, and then have to explain it a moment later.

Today I walked into Norwich and took a walking tour with a bunch of international students. I met a friend Jonas from Germany and met up with a pre-existing friend Claudia from Switzerland. Although they could have spoken German together, they declared profusely that they didn't want to, so we spoke English. That is, after all, what they are here to do. The tour started at the Cathedral and wound through some 16th Century Elizabethan buildings and one of the only surviving monasteries after King Henry VIII decided to create his own church with his own rules and dissolved them all. He didn't want to pay nothin to nobody. The tour guide asked where everyone was from and looked at me and said "The history here is kind of overwhelming, eh?" And it is! THere was a cottage that had a view of the river (really Norwich is connected to a whole network of rivers called the Broods that served as a great trading and commercial area during the Middle Ages) from which none other than QUEEN ELIZABETH I had watched a boat parade in her own honor. That really hit me that I was standing in a place that had once been frequented by one of the greatest monarchs and feminists in history.

The streets were named things like "Elm's Hill" and some of the tea houses even had thatched roofs! I am SO bringing back tea! Jonas, Claudia and I had tea after the tour, and headed over the Cathedral to hear the boy's choir do Gregorian chants, as they were scheduled to do. But it turned out that it was the ONE day they weren't performing in the Cathedral because it was Admiral Nelson's 250th Birthday (he was a local hero who helped defeat the Spanish Armada), so they were singing in another town. I am definitely planning to go back for it though because the tour guide said it was like stepping back 900 years when the monks would sing their chants.

There is so much more I could say about Norwich, but I think I will let some pictures do the talking. It has inspired me to fashion my own little tour around England. One of these weekends, I'm going to spend about four or five days on a "literary pilgrimage" of sorts where I visit all the places that my favorite authors lived or are meaningful to my thesis. So, I will probably be going to Bath, Stratford upon Avon, the Cotswalds, the Lake District, West Yorkshire, and Oxford. I'm going to stay in B&B's, and just kind of go wherever I feel like going.

HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY, NICHOLAS!!!

2008-09-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

Too Short A Time in London

2008-09-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

I've discovered two things in the past two days: 1) I LOVE London! 2) One day is too short a time to be in London. Friday afternoon I literally ran into my grandma and grandpa at the airport; we were intending to meet at the hotel, and spent a wonderful 18 hours with them before their flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. It was sad to part after so short a time, but it made me excited for our four days together in London in two weeks. EEEEE!!!!

One thing that was enlightening was hearing details about the financial crisis back home. Without TV here, I feel so isolated from everything going on, even though it is splattered all over the internet. Being over here for the past two and a half months has really put me in a unique place of viewing from the outskirts and getting international perspective. One thing that is certain is that while I may know very little about the particulars of the French and German elections, the whole world is honed in on the American presidential election of 2008. A few weeks ago Mike and I arrived late one night in Strasbourg and two men walking down the street were discussing what would happen "if there was a change in regime in America..." A drunk fellow who stayed in our hostel in Switzerland loudly declared to a roomful of international people that if the world could vote, Obama would win. There was a general positive reaction throughout the room. Originally I was surprised that our election drew so much international attention and coverage, but I realized that whatever happens will end up effecting the whole world in one way or another. All the international attention makes it even more exciting to be an absentee voter. This is the first presidential election I am able to vote in, and I must say that even though I must do it from abroad, it feels good being a participating citizen!

Being an American in England has raised some subtle nuances that I did not expect, mostly because of our obvious similarities. It has been somewhat surprising to find that while we speak the same language, there are cultural differences which are more blaring because you almost feel like they shouldn't be there. The other international students asked if we have trouble understanding the language, and the truth is yes. For the first few days, I could not understand my flatmates, and I still have to ask them to repeat themselves a lot. It's almost embarrassing! In addition to that, they just have a dynamic in their talking and mannerisms that is not immediately natural to me, and I haven't quite picked up on it yet. I guess it goes to show that speaking the same language does not equal immediate comprehension.

I was talking with a new friend from San Francisco, and he said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you and I... we're good Americans..." I was originally taken aback by this statement, but I know understand what he meant. Part of it goes back to the whole "ugly American" image that we constantly come up against, but there is more to it than that. Every time we open our mouths, we identify ourselves as Americans, and all the connotations that go with it. My friend, a very gregarious fellow, admitted that he typically keeps his mouth shut to prevent just that. In my first Contemporary Writing class, I opened my mouth and said "Hi, I'm Amber..." and after just that, the professor blurted out, "Ay, there are so many Americans in this class!" I don't know exactly why, but it bothered me to be so outwardly identified and labeled. He was absolutely right: I am American. But what does that mean to him? It's unnerving! We brainstormed the list of stereotypes the English accent connotes, such as trustworthiness and truth. When the BBC comes on, we perk up as if to say "Ah, here comes the truth about the war..." or stereotype of the old English professor that we get from movies.

London! I only had a few hours, but I walked from Leicester Square, which reminded of The Mystery of Edwin Drood when we sang: "How slightly west of Leicester Square you are...!" I then walked to Trafalgar Square, spent a good few hours in the National Portrait Gallery (which tells a very thorough and comprehensive history of England through portraits of its major figures...I loved it!), walked to Westminster Abbey, Big Ben and Parliament, and crossed the Thames and came up the other side, right under the Eye of London. It was a very visual view of London, but it was the perfect little teaser because it made me VERY excited to go back and explore it further with grandma and grandpa. The train ride is perfect too... two hours of beautiful views and a perfect opportunity to finally do some reading! After all, I AM here to study! heee hee he

Getting Settled in a New Home

2008-09-26T03:13:00.000-07:00

I have officially been in England for over a week and am finally getting settled into a new life (that actually involves school). The campus and weather are so similar to UO that looking out my window I can almost pretend that I am there. Although at first it was kind of a rough transition, I am really happy to be here, and it is shaping up to be an amazing (though busy) term!

Campus: While smaller than UO, the UEA campus has some similar 60's-style buildings. We are about two miles from the town of Norwich, which is new for me since I am used to being in the center of Eugene. The seclusion is kind of nice especially since there is a lake and nature all around us. My dorm is HUGE, and I get a bathroom all to myself that someone else cleans once a week. That is living in luxury. I live with 9 British students, who are all very sweet and fun.

Norwich: Norwich (pronounced Norridge) is the operating center for the county of Norfolk, and is the biggest city in East Anglia. The greater Norwich area has roughly the same population as Eugene. Unlike most English cities, it did not start as a Roman colony, but came into being as a medieval town. As such, it has a castle, really old cathedral, ruined wall that surrounds half of it, and a bunch of adorable cobble-stone streets lined with old buildings. Scenes from the movie Stardust were filmed here to give you a sense of the place. Currently, it is rated as one of the best shopping towns in Europe, and it has a dangerous amount of cute shops for browsing and... buying! I'll tell you more about Norwich later since I am taking a walking tour of it on Sunday.

Classes: Three classes is considered full-time here, so that is the amount I am enrolled in. One of them is Contemporary Writing which meets once a week for two hours, and seems more like a book club than a class. Basically, we read a contemporary British novel a week and come together to discuss it. The reading list seems really interesting, since I haven't read many contemporary British novels. I am also taking 18th Century Writing, which has a lot of familiars like Locke, Swift, Pope, and Fielding. It is a larger lecture class, but should be good as background info for my thesis. My last class is a dissertation class, which meets not at all. Instead, we meet with a "supervisor" throughout the term and write an 8,000 work dissertation. This class is reserved for students in their final year. At first I was terrified because the other students had all started working on theirs over the summer and also had all of winter break to write it, which I do not. Turns out that because I have less time I have less to write (about 5,000 words) so that is a relief. I am taking this class to seriously start working on my thesis for the Honors College that I will have to write and defend when I return.

Classes here function somewhat differently than in the U.S. Rather than meeting several times a week with a specific reading list and assignments, the English practice much more self-motivated study. Classes meet about once a week for two hours, but we are expected to spend a considerable amount of time outside of class reading and researching for the papers. So when I tell you that I only have class on Tuesdays and Wednesdays technically leaving me a 5 day weekend, do not be fooled. I will have about two novels to read each week, along with research to do and papers to write throughout that time. I am actually worried about the time leftover for travelling!

Travel: So I joined about a million societies here the other day, including Literature Society, International Students Society (ISS), Cheese and Wine Society, and Hiking Society. They plan a considerable amount of trips throughout the term including Edinburgh, London, Amsterdam, and other towns around Norfolk... I want to do them all, so we'll see what time allows. These groups seem really awesome... For instance, the other night about 50 members of ISS went out in Norwich and we had a blast. I REALLY like those people. While I am here, I really want to visit: Edinburgh, Scotland, London, Cambridge, Stratford-upon-Avon, Bath, Amsterdam, and Ireland. I only have about two months left to travel (since towards the end I will be bogged down with papers) so I really hope I can make it.

So all in all it is shaping up to be a really exciting term, and I will keep you updated as much as I can. Today, I go to London to meet Grandma and Grandma and get my suitcase with winter clothes. I am so excited to see them, even if for only a short while. In two weeks, we will be spending four days in London together... I can't wait!

Three Days in Pareeeeeee and the End of our Travels

2008-09-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

Perhaps because it was the last stop in our journey, or perhaps the environment was affecting us, but we lived it up in Paris. Three solid days of walking produces quite an appetite, and, with the use of Mike's lovely associate card, we had some amazing meals at the Marriott. We ate out one night, and had the Plat de 'Jour Menu that included roasted lamb, steamed muscles, and creme broulee. I think back to our baguette and cheese picnics at the beginning of the trip, and just laugh at how far we've come. Three days in Paris was the perfect amount of time for two lazy travelers. Here is a breakdown of what we saw:

Day 1: We took the metro over to the Eiffel Tower, and did that. Then we walked up to the Arche de Triumphe, and did that. We walked down the Boulevard de Champs past all the trendy shops and fancy hotels, and came to a "Hostel de Invalides" that Louis XIV built to house those infirmed by his military campaigns. It is now a museum of war, where we spent the remainder of the day. It had quite an extensive armory, Napoleon's tomb (and he really was THAT short), and a fascinating interactive WW2 museum that focused on their local hero Charles de Gaulle (airport named after him).

Day 2: We saw the Louvre. It is almost frustrating to have the most extensive collection of art and artifacts of Western civilization in one spot because it is impossible to see it all. You get tired, and realize you haven't even gotten to Hammurabi's Code yet! The biggies (the Venus de Milo and Mona Lisa) were exciting, but so crowded that you didn't really want to stop and ponder the meaning behind her mysterious smile. Dan Brown solved that problem for us anyway... After the Louvre, we walked along the river to Notre Dame. It was big and beautiful, but honestly just another cathedral. The Latin District around Notre Dame is very fun; we did some shopping there and had our amazing dinner.

Day 3: On this day, we took the opportunity to go to Versailles to see the Palace and surrounding gardens/chateau. The palace was bigger than the Royal Palace in Madrid, although it featured the same fancy, baroque style. There was a rather cool exhibit going on at the palace. Each room housed a modern art piece created by French artist Dean Koonz. They included giant, metal twisted balloons, cartoon boquets of flowers, and blow-up floatation devices. At first, I thought it was tacky, but after a while it became kind of exciting to see which odd-ball piece would be in the next historical room. We wandered the extensive grounds a little, and flew through Marie Antoinette's chateau. I would have liked to spend more time here, but after so much walking we were pretty tired. I guess I'll have to go back!

This morning (17th), Mike and I woke up bright and early to travel to the airport together to catch our respective flights: him to Portland and me to Norwich. I am sad to lose the companionship because it has felt like having a little bit of home with me. I am also sad to end our travels, but at the same time it will be nice to not move around so much. Saying goodbye in the airport was the equivalent to being operated on without anasthesia, but you know what they say: We'll always have Paris...

The rest of the day was quite the roller coaster. My flight from Paris to London was late (as flights often are), which stressed me out since I only had 1 hour to catch the shuttle to Norwich. If I missed it, I would have had to go into London and find a bus or train... I did not want to do this. After literally the shortest flight of my life, I sped through immigration, and went to baggage claim. My bag was put on the wrong conveyor belt, which took a little figuring out, and pushed me back even later. Then I had to take an UNBEARABLY SLOW train from my terminal to the terminal the shuttle would meet. It was SUPER slow, and even had to stop for a random security check. I was going nuts... After I got off, I booked it with my heavy backpacks and caught the UEA folks just as they were leaving to go to the shuttle. It was too close for comfort.

I am now checked in to my new room at UEA. It feels like being back in the dorms for the second time around, and has that exciting "beginning-of-school" feel. I am now faced with the task of making all new friends AGAIN, which is kind of daunting, but I know it will be better once I do. It is crazy to think that fall is suddenly here, but the FRIGID weather outside confirms it. Now I have twelve weeks of school, and England to see!

Paris in Style

2008-09-16T02:16:00.001-07:00

Strasbourg was a rainy, miserable place. I realize that this is a harsh judgment, but after walking around in a steady, annoying drizzle that soaked through my clothes, the "Petite France" streets and German houses did not seem so charming. I also had a really bad experience with some food. I suppose it was my fault when I decided to order pickled herring for a lunch, and was greeted with a plate of something that only looked suitable as salmon bait. I couldn't eat it, and felt nauseated for the rest of the day. Also, our hostel in Strasbourg was a curious place. It was the biggest and most "hotel-y" hostel we have stayed at so far, but it was absolutely swarming with children! Apparently, they had some sort of deal for children in groups or something. It was a fine place, as the ONLY hostel in Strasbourg, but there were no other backpackers. Only children. There were no signs of the weather letting up so headed to the train station and hopped the next train to Paris.

After watching about four episodes of Seinfeld on Mike's iphone, we arrived and took the metro to our HOTEL. I should probably mention that I am writing this blog from a king-sized feather bed surrounded by down pillows in a classy, four-star Marriott Hotel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How has this happened, you may ask... I will tell you. So we sat on the floor of previous child-ridden hostel for about an hour searching online with the crappy internet connection for a suitable hostel. Either everything was booked, way out of our price range, or had reviews that said "Do Not Stay Here. This is the dirtiest most disguisting place I have ever been." We were quite discouraged by this. On a whim, Mike decided to check for Marriott hotels with his employee discount card, and found us an amazing room in the super classy Marriott. It feels quite strange to go from backpacker's hostels with bunkbeds and kitchens to a four-star hotel with room service and down pillows, but who's complaining? I have seriously loved our hostels, but it's a nice change of environment. And the best part is... we are actually spending the same amount for this hundreds of dollars room as we would for the crappier hostels. I am pretty ecstatic about it. The kind lady at the reception put us on the 12th floor, with a view of Notre Dame!

So we have three full days in Paris, and good sleep ahead of us!

Rainy Strasbourg

2008-09-13T05:53:00.000-07:00

It is very rainy and blah in Strasbourg, which apparently is the home of the UN! Who know? We went for too long of a walk in the steady downpour, and are now drying out before heading to Paris early. We are both done with this rainy place. New pics are on facebook. Check them out!

Long Blog Alert!!!!

2008-09-13T05:52:00.000-07:00

I am writing this blog on the train to Strasbourg, our next (and surprise) destination. Mike and I realized that we had about two extra days in our itinerary, so we decided to break up the trip between Interlaken and Paris with a day in Strasbourg. Apparently it is on the French side of the France/German border, but over the years it has swapped back and forth due to wars, border disputes, etc., which has given the town its own unique feel. Really, we are hoping to spend a day in Germany's Black Forrest, so we'll see if we get there during the day.

Once again, so much has happened and I have neglected to update! This will probably be a long one. There is much to say. So when I left off, we were going to Venice to experience the city at night, and this we did. St. Mark's Square is a fun place at night as all the fancy, over-priced cafe's that line the square have quintet orchestras that play fun tunes such as "New York, New York" in the lit square. Instead of walking the long walk back to the bus, we took a water taxi, which was a giant, noisy ferry that drives up and down the Grand Canal, affording beautiful views of the bordering shops and restaurants.

The next day was a travel day, but it was the most beautiful train ride we have had thusfar. The trains passed right between the lakes of Northern Italy with big, fancy houses, and passing into Switzerland we saw some actual mountains. It was annoying though, because everytime Mike or I thought to take a picture, we would immediately pass into a tunnel or behind some trees right as the camera was about to snap. Oh vell! We arrived in Interlaken quite late, and experienced cooler weather for the first time all trip. It felt REALLY nice though. It was dark and hard to see, but it was obvious that we were surrounded by mountains.

Switzerland has got to be one of my favorite places thusfar. It may be because it is quite different from our previous stops, but the cool climate and mountain air are so refreshing. The people are SUPER friendly... Although almost everyone speaks English, if they doesn't understand you completely, they will politely ask "And vhat do you mean by zat?" If this happens in Spain, you get blown off. One downside though is that it is also very expensive. The Swiss Frank is roughly equivalent to the dollar (which took some getting used to since I am so accustomed to euros), but food and other souvenirs are so expensive. One of my buddies in Oviedo told me that this was because Swizterland is wanting to be in the European Union, and is jacking up their prices to make the transition smoother. Somehow, I don't quite buy this... I bet its one of those "economy" things that I don't understand. But more than the money is the Swiss feel, which I like so much I am giddy just writing about it!

Our hostel is the perfect example. Balmer's Herberge in Interlaken is the funnest and most social hostel we have stayed at so far. It has two buildings, a garden, a kitchen, a restaurant, a bar, a mini-market, a outdoor office, and tons of lounges with fireplaces and games. It's like its own functioning little city! We have had so much fun there and met so many cool people, including this crazy, red-headed Danish girl named Annette who kept popping up in the most random places. Picture Luna Lovegood in the latest Harry Potter movie.

Our first full day in Interlaken was not actually spent in Interlaken. We took a smaller train up the mountains aways to a resorty mountain town named Grindelwald. It is nestled right in the Alps with the Eiger and Jungfrau (these are mountains) looming above on one side and a green valley below. I cannot convey to you how awesome the Alps are. On the trainride up, Mike was saying "See...this could be Oregon here" because of the pretty greenery. I pointed up to the giant mountains and said, "Could THAT be Oregon, too?" No... no it could not. After wandering around the wooden cabins and flowers of Grindelwald, we set off on a six hour hike up into the Alps. IT WAS SO GORGEOUS!!! Quite the climb, however. We ended up at a backpacker's hut/restaurant (I don't know WHO walks the food up there, but they have my blessing) where we had a warming soup before heading town. Luckily, we didn't have to come all the way down, but took a gondola for part of it. There were some amazing little details that made it so much better too, such as the absolutely stereotypical Swiss alpinists with the hats, short pants, and waxed, curly moustaches. On our way back into Grindelwald, we rounded a corner to find a random man playing a Alphorn ("Ricollaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!"). We were like "Seriously?!? Awesome!"

Here comes a complaint. As two avid fondue aficionados, we have been picturing for the past few months having fondue in the Alps. They did not have it at our mountain hut, but assured us it would be in the town. Well, we wandered through half the restaurants, and couldn't find it anywhere! We were like "Are we missing something? Switzerland... Alps... Fondue, right?" We finally just asked and found one place that was way overpriced. We decided to head back to Interlaken and continue the search there. The lady at our hostel recommended a few places, all 33 franks or more! We settled for kebabs (it was about time Mike had one), but were sorely disappointed about our lack of a Fondue-in-Switzerland experience. Well just settle for our less-authentic American fondue.

The next day (which is today) we had an experience. Now everytime we have tried to have an experience, something has gone wrong. We wanted to do a tour of Tuscany in Florence, but the tour did not meet on our one day there... We were going to do a boatride to a glass-blowing island in Venice, but we got there too late. So we decided to splurge a little and have an experience in Interlaken... which is perfect as Interlaken is the adventure capital of the world. Sky-diving, paragliding, rafting, you name it... We were going to go paragliding today, but awoke to clouds and rain: not the best paragliding weather. Instead, we went canyoning, an activity where rain was an asset not a setback. Canyoning hasn't really caught in the United States, which is too bad because it is completely awesome! It involves sliding, rapelling, and jumping (!) down a steep canyon. The first jump we came to, the guide walked us onto a rock and said "Now jump into the white, trecherous water below and land flat on your back. THREE...TWO...ONE" *push* It took some getting used to, but was really fun. Our biggest jump was 7 meters! Sadly, we were with two Korean girls who were absolutely terrified. They had never done anything like this in there life.

Even though we are leaving, this is one place that I know I will come back to, over all the others. I LOVE it, probably because it has that Oregon-feel to it. I could honestly have spent weeks here just hiking to all the mountain towns, but Mike wanted to see something else. I am afraid I am going to become a Euro-bum! Well, this is officially the longest-blog ever, and we are about to arrive in Basel. So over and out.

Link to pics!

2008-09-10T02:59:00.001-07:00

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2184940&id=11513535&saved#/album.php?aid=2184940&id=11513535

So.

2008-09-09T06:56:00.002-07:00

You may be confused about what has happened here... I do not post for over a week, and then bust out several right in a row. Well, what happened was, along our journey we did not have wi-fi in hardly any of our hostels. However, we kept blog posts regularly, and saved them in a word document. Now that we have found a place wi-fi, here are all the posts. Sorry they are so long, but please read them at your leisure... I do not know when internet will come into our lives again.

Sinking City

2008-09-09T06:56:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was our first full day in Venice. We arrived too late (and too exhuasted) on Sunday evening to actually go into the city, so we had some delicious pizza and went to bed in our tent! Yes, you heard right, we are staying in a campsite for this leg of the journey. What originally began as a preferred cheaper alternative to the expensive hostels in Venice soon became a haven from the hustle and bustle and overpriced food of Venice proper. CAMPING JOLLY ( as they fondly refer to themselves) is on the mainland about a 15 minute busride from the Venice-gondalas-bridges-lagoon-St. Mark's Square that everyone thinks of. CAMPING JOLLY has permanent, aluminum-frame tents with bunk beds inside, swimming pool, work out facility, and its own grocery, restaurant, and bar. It is connected to Venice by shuttle and city bus, so it is very easy to get back and forth. It's perfect for what we want right now, because traveling does wear on a person and a little relaxing getaway was just what we wanted. This morning we went swimming, did a load of laundry, and are FINALLY updating blogger before heading into the city later to see Venice at night.

Yesterday was a power visit. We walked all over the winding streets and over the bridges, saw the Carrer Museum, St. Mark's square and Basilica, and the Doge's Palace. Each of these were quite interesting, and really give you a well-rounded idea into how the city functioned throughout its history such as a stowaway for barbarians, mercantile and marine power, and its own little autonomous state. The figure of the doge fascinates me immensely. His role was more similar to current English monarchy aka symbolic and state importance more than the actual ruling of the land. They also wore a funny little hat. Venice had a ruling aristocracy and no constitution, which amazes me that they were able to last so long. The Carrer Museum gave a perfect idea of this with its rooms full of Venice's currency throughout the years, naval trading ships, and armory.

The Doge's Palace was very dark and ornate with large portraits on the walls, and wood paneling all the way to the ceiling. We were surprised to find that it was connected to the state prison only by a Bridge of Sights, where the prisoners would look one last time at the beautiful canals of Venice with a sigh before being committed to the dark prison for life. Venice has left a very good impression on me... I mean, how many places are partially under water, and perhaps might be gone in the next 20 years? They are taking precautions to prevent this, however, with a billion dollar inflatable dam wall that protects the city during the 100 times a year that it floods.

Truffles, Chianti, and Gelato

2008-09-09T06:55:00.000-07:00

So I am basically in love with Italian food. Not only that, but I am having a love affair with it as we speak. This is the kind of affair that boyfriends not only approve of, but take part in willingly. It's like some kind of messed-up Italian menogoiteau. Over the past week, I have had gelato four times, and we are planning on going again tomorrow. It is amazing, and guilt it mitigated by the necessity to "try the local cuisine..." Turns out the local cuisine is the food people dream about. Chianti is a red wine that comes in a grass-covered bottle, local to Florence, and truffles are something Mike and I have come to obsess over. As I mentioned, his pasta last night was made with truffle oil.

Well, today as we wandered about, we came accross a farmer's market. We sampled several different cheeses, wines, and honey before coming accross a man that had a truffle farm! (Oh, for those of you who don't know truffles are rare, expensive mushrooms that are served in only high-end restaurants. It cannot be cultivated because it only grows at the root of a certain tree, and is found with a pig or dog that are trained sniff them out. Only two places in the world can grow them: one is Italy/France and the other is the Pacific Northwest!) It was very fun to run into this man and hear about his truffle-hunting. He had pictures of his farm, and the biggest truffle he has found this year sold in the U.S. for $3,000 euro! For a single mushroom! We bought some cheap truffle oil from the supermarket and tried to replicate it for dinner. It was rather delicious although not quite the caliber of last night's pasta.

Today, we woke up way too early to stand in line for a half an hour and see the Uffizi Gallery, which houses the best collection of Italian art. Although I do not know nearly as much about Italian art as Spanish, it was still impressive to see works by all four of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Michaelangelo, Rafael, Donatello, and Leonardo! My favorite two pieces were both Boticelli's: Birth of Venus, which I have as a poster in my room, and Spring, which is just gorgeous. We spent the rest of the day wandering... Florence has a lot of expensive sites, but you can get a great sense of the city and its history just by wandering. A few sites such as the Duomo, other churches, and Michaelangelo Piazza and viewpoint are free, so we checked those out. And I bought something... We both found some well-priced leather sandals and got them! Mike spent the better part of three blocks talking me into this self-indulgence, but they are real Italian leather and I have practically worn through my others by now.

Florence's most famous bridge that crosses the main Arno River is called the Ponte Vecchio. It is lined with gold and siver shops, and is a "place of romance" as was evident by the THREE wedding couples that deliberately walked accross before flashing cameras. Leaning over the bridge there are a series of padlocks locked together. Guys traditionally bring their gals here, add a lock and throw away the key and a deliberate demonstration of their undying love. Before I knew what was happening, Mike added one of our small luggage locks to the bunch, and with a "For you, dear," he tossed the key overboard. I know, I know... sickeningly romantic, but Florence just has that effect on people.

Some Places in Italy

2008-09-09T06:54:00.002-07:00

Oh man, I am getting way behind on blogging! The reason is because none of our hostels have internet... I don't want to get too far behind, so I am writing these in Word and will post them all later. So yesterday we did the 9 km Cinque Terre hike that connected all the villages. We took the train to Montorosso (on the opposite end) to tackle the most treacherous leg of the journey first, and I am so glad we did. The first section from Montorosso to Vernazza was constant stairs. Whether it was upstairs or downstairs, it did not matter because there was NO BREAK FROM STAIRS. But it was absolutely gorgeous and SO rewarding. The hike between the towns ran through hilled, small farms of olive trees or vineyards and grand vistas of the blue Mediterranean. We spent a fair bit of time poking around the villages themselves.

Here is a rundown: Montorosso was most substantive with an open-air market and resort, even an old castle; Vernazza was my favorite with an adorable harbor and colorful buildings (and delicious tiramisu gelato!); Corniglia was the least exciting as it was up on a hill and rather small; Manarola was child-friendly and connected to Riomaggiore by a Via del' Amoure, or Lover's Lane where lovers between the two towns would meet. The hike took us a total of 6 hours, including dawdle time, and we arrived in Riomaggiore sweaty and exhausted. We hopped right back on the train to Montorosso to swim on the only sandy beach in the Cinque Terre. We found our dinner there at a local pizzeria, and headed back to Riomaggiore to clean up and get some cocktails. It was an absolutely perfect relaxing day in the Cinque Terre.

Which was good. Because the next day, we got ready to leave only to find that Sergio was charging us double what we thought we would pay. I was worried about this too, and checked that he wanted 30 euro per person for two nights, and he said "yes, yes, haha, ees fine!" Well, we fretted about this for a while, but determined that Sergio's services such as cooking our food, laundering out clothes, packing our lunches, and providing free Cinque Terre cards outweighed the extra costs for the apartment. Really, it was a wonderful stay, and I am happy we did it. We have been doing so well at saving money with our hostels and Eurail Pass, I don't feel too bad about it.

Our next stop was Pisa, where we spent a mere hour. We got off the train, headed immediately to the leaning tower, took the stereotypical "holding it back up" picture (along with several other hundred tourists), looked around at the other large, pretty buildings without bothering an enterance, and headed back. It was exactly the surface, quick-stop visit I wanted, and p.s. Pisa is hot. Also, for some reason, I can't say the word "pisa"... I keep calling it "pizza!"

The train to Florence was short but HOT. We were happy to get off of there, particularly because there was some drama with the police. We quickly found our WONDERFUL hostel, run by a friendly Dominican man. Despite its being one of the cheapest hostels in Florence, it just so happens to be the nicest! He poured us some cold water, upgraded our room from dorm to private at no extra charge, and walked us through the main sights and best deals of the city. We collapsed for a brief respite from the hot sun, and headed out for a long evening walk through a bustling market and through the enclosed streets of Florence. This town has an immediate Renaissance feel that is impossible to not love. I wanted to get lost in the winding streets, and without even trying we ran into the Duomo along with several other main sights. The best part, however, was when we stopped for an absolutely delicious dinner at a family-run trattoria. Mike had truffle oil pasta and I had a spinach and cheese ravioli with a tomato and ham sauce. Both were mouth-watering. We shared a home-made tiramisu, and licked every inch of our plates. It was amazing authentic Italian cuisine. I am glad we didn't eat out in Barcelona or Nice. It feels like we were waiting for the food capital of the world before we really ate well. This city just feels so old; I am excited to dig deeper into its history.

Train to Terre

2008-09-09T06:54:00.001-07:00

I am writing to you after fourteen hours of train rides. Mind you, these were broken up into four different legs with an overnight stay in Nice. I would have gone crazy with so much sitting, but the countryside was so beautiful I hardly minded. We arrived in Nice quite late so after getting settled in our hostel we set out for a night walk around the city. Somehow we managed to find the center square that had all the street musicians, which was quite entertaining and fun.

Today, we arrived in the Cinque Terre, and I immediately fell in love with it. We did not book a hostel ahead of time mostly because there were none. After getting off the train in Riomaggiore, I was greeted by a friendly Italian man offering us a room for 15 euro per night (this is INCREDIBLY cheap in the hostel world). I agreed upon the contingency that we see it and like it first, and Sergio led us up the path expounding the many glorious wonders of the room he provided. It turned out to be his personal apartment with only two extra rooms (the other was occupied by an Australian couple), but it was so nice and clean that we couldn't pass it up. Sergio is your stereotype of the older Italian man. Very touchy, very talkative, and very friendly. He has burst into our room several times to show us something completely unnecessary or to say in broken English "Ok, the bathroom is clean cause I use it too, right? Capiche?"

Oh, side anecdote here... I was preparing to go out for a walk when Mike came bursting through the door, his eyes watering and his face turning red. "Do NOT go out there!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed. I couldn't figure out what had happened, but apparently he sprayed a squirt from a bottle thinking it was air freshener, but it turned out to be a bottle of pepper spray that Sergio keeps by the door, "in case French people come by..." He then proceeded to pour liter after liter of our precious bottled water into his eye as he coughed and spluttered and washed out the extremely potent gas. I knew it was strong because even the tiny squirt was coming through the door and making my eyes water. At that moment, Sergio burst in to see Mike in considerable pain, the pepper spray, and demanded of me "What did you DO?!?!" Nothing! We left promptly for our walk.

The Cinque Terre was exactly what I hoped it would be. Relaxing, raw, sunny, beautiful... Rick Steves, along with many other travel agents, have sung its praises, so I was worried that it would be over-touristy and developed. Turns out, it is just as quaint and untouched as all the pictures make it out to be. Pictures will follow. We went to a very rocky beach with clear blue SALTY water to swim for a bit, and then got some groceries for the traditional Cinque Terre dinner of pesto pasta, white "Cinque Terre" wine, and seafood.

Upon our arrival home, Sergio REFUSED to let us cook it for ourself. He took all our ingredients, added quite a few of his own, and whipped us up a delicious feast. At one point, he even clapped my cheek and said "Ok, you go, bella, I make it for you!" He set a beautiful table for us, and even periodically checked on us to see if we needed anything. Then he REFUSED to let us clean up, and took our leftovers and "make soomething for your lunch tomorrow to hike." We kept looking at each other and laughing at our luck to fall in line with this wonderful, hilarious man. Tomorrow we go for the five village hike.

Bar-Bar-Barcelona!!!

2008-09-01T14:35:00.000-07:00

Despite everything that could have gone wrong with the whole training to Barcelona to catch another train to the airport to meet Mike who hopefully made his standby flight, nothing did! I frantically got off the train pushing past crowds of people with a 50 lb bag over my shoulder to find him leaning against the wall smiling ironically at my confusion. It was awesome! Equally amazing, Metro and hostel were found with relative ease.

I had mixed feelings about coming to Barcelona. Over half of my classmates in Oviedo were pick-pocketed here and had horrifying experiences to share. Also its initial description as a sprawling humid Los Angeles-like city did not immediately appeal to me. But, as with every city I here, I have fallen under its charm. Barcelona has an undeniably Mediterranean feel to it that really took me a second day to fully appreciate. The first day involved a lot of orientation and getting lost and wandering through winding, narrow streets in the Gothic District... all fun, but I couldn't really get a sense of the place. In the cool evening, we had our first, but certainly not last dip, into the salty Mediterranean waters, which was very fun and refreshing. Las Ramblas, the main thoroughfare that connects the old and new towns ending up at the sea and a giant statue of Colombus, has seen too many tourists and no longer deserves a three pyramid rating in Rick Steves' book.

Today was a perfect day for sight-seeing. Sunny and warm, but not too humid, which is many people's complaint of Barcelona. I nearly screamed when we arose of the Metro to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's unfinished masterpiece and the symbol of Barcelona. When I first saw pictures of the place, I thought it looked like one of those sand castles that children make by dripping wet sand in a pile. But the "drippy sand" look is really the elaborate and ornate detail of biblical scenes and natural elements. I LOVE GAUDI!!! I'll be honest... I first I secretly called him "Gaudy Gaudi," but now I want my house to be exactly like his Casa Batllo with its mask-like balconies or Casa Mila that doesn't contain a single straight line. As a "Modernist" architect, Gaudi borrowed elements from many previous architectural styles such as the Gothic arch, but improved it with nature-inspired honeycomb ornamentation. The inside of the Sagrada Familia is like a forrest canopy with pilars inspired by trees with gnots and branches and an entire canopy for its roof.

We bought some cheese, sausage, bread, and fruit and picniced in Guell Park, another great site of Gaudi architecture! His ceramic tiles, fruit-like chimneys, and obvious respect for nature and asymmetry are sites to behold. I seriously cannot rave about him enough, and will definitely post pictures soon so you can see what I mean! After that, we had been planning to see the Picasso Museum, but... :( I had my days confused thinking yesterday was was Saturday instead of Sunday. Turns out, the Picasso Museum is closed on Monday, which saddens me IMMENSELY! Seriously, SO sad about it. Instead, we went to the Chocolate Museum, which was fun and delicious! Apparently, Barcelona was a #1 importer of cacao from Mexico, and it traced the history of chocolate from its Mayan and Aztec healing powers to its symbol of status in early Europe to its tastey treat for everyone today! I made Mike try some Spanish hot chocolate... he was not a fan.

Traveling with Mike, btw, is awesome. Whereas I often allow myself to stress about everything and plan too much and rely overly upon Rick Steves, he pulls the book out of my hands and says "You're missing Barcelona!" He is the ying to my neurotic, over-prepared yang, and since he has been here I have not been nervous or homesick or scared once, which is rather nice. Tomorrow we have a long train ride ahead of us to Nice, but we are both excited and ready to get to Italy. Tired from the past two days too, so a long, scenic train ride is just what the doctor ordered!

Wrap-Up of Spain

2008-08-28T06:10:00.000-07:00

We took the final exam today, which means tonight will be a MAJOR celebration! It also means that tomorrow we have farewell business and party, and Saturday everyone leaves. There are five of us that are staying in Europe for fall term. Everyone else is going home. I am more excited about staying than sad about not going. Saturday evening I will take an overnight train with two friends here to Barcelona. Mike and I will meet there Sunday morning to begin our two and a half week whirlwind European tour. I AM SO EXCITED I CAN BARELY CONTAIN MYSELF!!!

We both favor freedom and flexibility over rigidity and security in traveling, so here is the tentative schedule:

Aug. 31- Sept. 1: Barcelona
2-3: Train through Southern France
4-5: Cinque Terre
5-7: Florence
7-10: Venice
11-13: Interlaken, Switzerland
14-17: Paris

From there, I go to London and Mike goes home. I am looking forward to this "second phase" of travel. During my week of traveling alone, I did not afford myself the luxury of flexibility. Everywhere I went, I had a map of the city practically memorized along with bus schedules, museum hours, major attractions, etc. I allowed Rick Steves (brilliant man that he is) to direct my course. This next phase will be quite different for the following reasons: 1) Although I am equally excited, I am less terrified about the concept of traveling in Europe. 2) I will not be alone. Not even the staunchest feminist can deny that a 5'2'' female is much safer if accompanied by a man packing a whole extra foot and 60 lbs. It's just basic math. 3) I have adopted a different mindset about travel. Rather than packing in every single museum and site possible, I have accepted that there is no way to see it all. Trips are more enjoyable, experienced enriched, and places enhanced by taking one's time. A slice of chocolate cake is always better than the eating the whole thing at once. Besides, gotta save some for the next trip, right?

As I have said time and time before, the past month has been an absolute blur. I honestly cannot believe how fast it went by. The past five weeks have given me such an appreciation for this amazing country that goes beyond its rich history. I remember learning in my Spanish current events class about the prostitution problem in Spain; this was confirmed by the prostitutes that lined the streets outside my hostel in Madrid. We discussed the botellon or the Spanish custom of people gathering in the plazas to drink and socialize, and this I experienced personally. :) We also learned about the massive influx of immigration (4.5 million immigrants in the last 30 years) this country has seen after complete isolation during the Franco regime. In truth, Morrocans can be found selling burned DVD's on many a Spanish street corner, and an Argentinian woman sells me fruit at the local fruteria. With such a large inundation of immigrants in so short of time, it is no wonder the Spanish are wary of foreigners.

Along with current Spain, it has been so nice to see the romantic Spain of antiquity that has always interested me. The Spain of Goya, Lorca, Picasso, and Hemmingway. Of bullfights and flamenco. Even the nitty-gritty Reconquest and Inquisition have helped shape the history and flavor of this place. And then there are the times when the two converge in a vivid and chilling way. For me, this has been seeing an old person in a park and knowing that their wrinkled face has experienced repression under a dictatorship or perhaps even lost a loved one in the Civil War. That part of Spanish history is still an open wound, and people glare when someone utters the word "Franco."

Oh, by the way, studying a language in a native country is the ONLY way to learn it. The ONLY way. My Spanish has improved exponentially since coming here, and I know that if I stayed it would only continue to improve. I will leave you with some pictures from the past few days: hiked up the tallest mountain Oviedo to see a giant Jesus, the pre-Roman cathedrals here in Oviedo, and view of the city.

La vida te da sorpresas, sorpresas te da la vida...

2008-08-25T11:39:00.000-07:00

It is quite interesting the different reasons people learn a new language. The majority of our class revealed that they would like to use it in their future careers, or at least use it to attain said future careers as Spanish-speakers are always highly-solicited in the job market. Others want to live in a Spanish-speaking country. The Italian girl is studying for the sole purpose that it is the second most-spoken language in the world. One of the American students is already fluent in Spanish as a native Panamanian. Why study it then? It was the easiest degree she could get before pursuing her dream of going to culinary school. I didn't really know how to answer this question. I do not know if I will use Spanish in my future career, and I don't really care about the diploma. When it came my turn to answer I simply said that I have always wanted to learn, but I could not think back to why this was. I suppose part of the reason is to learn another culture and society that has become so much a part of our own, especially along the West coast and South, but I know it goes beyond that. Also, I think I just like learning language. My favorite answer, however, came from the English fellow Joel, who is learning to be able to speak to the parents of his Spanish girlfriend. Que preciosa!

Today was a beautiful day in Oviedo... one of our rare sunny days, although I really haven't minded the clouds. I took the opportunity to go for a run along a new path that had a great view of the city. You know Terwilliger Road in Portland? It was kind of like that. I think the main way I have come to bond with this region is by immersing myself in its nature. My favorite times here have been exploring new trails and villages on our excursions, walking along the beach, and finding a freaking castle! It is so much like the Pacific Northwest that in a beautiful and melancholy way, it reminds me of home. I did not expect to find that feeling here (I expected to find it in England), so it has been a very comforting and easy place to pass my August. :)

Oh, and kayaking! I should probably tell you about that. It was not CLASS FIVE RAPIDS kind of kayaking so much as a nice leisurely 15 kilometer float down a beautiful river. We ran into an Irish family on the river who said "It's like the Oregon Trail, no?" and it really was. This is apparently a really popular activity because the river was absolutely PACKED, creating a bumper boat-like experience. At one of the faster, narrower sections of the river all the kayakers were trying to get through at once, which created chaos. The current caused our kayak to push another kayak into a fallen tree, causing them to capsize. To keep from capsizing ourselves, we had to paddle really fast, which I am sure looked like a frantic fleeing of the scene of the crime. I felt bad, but what are you going to do? Another one of the narrow sections was covered in jagged rocks, and without doing anything to stop ourselves, Casey and I became stuck in them. I was laughing hysterically as we scooted ourselves forward to get over the rocks, but quickly shut up as the kayak tipped forward and I looked down into white water. I was freaking out, but Casey (who was in the back) kept scooting us forward until we made it safely over the rocks. All the kayakers below clapped when we made it through this mildly treacherous part of the river.

That was the day of the Spain-U.S. basketball game, which was a big deal for everyone here but me... So I am sorry I don't have more information on that front. Everyone who found out we were American had a host of questions to ask... Luckily, others in our party were more informed.

Cultural Differences and a Treasure Hunt

2008-08-22T07:28:00.000-07:00

Studying in a class full of international students certainly provides for some interesting conversations, especially when discussing our cultural differences. Two of my classmates even wear the Hijab in their patria of Tunisia in Northern Africa. We discovered that certain things are the same everywhere such as arguing to pay for the bill at a restaurant and bringing a bottle of wine to a dinner. We also discussed superstitions, and it appears that black cats, walking under a ladder, and breaking a mirror are universally considered bad omens... also universally-executed and proven false. In Tunisia, being crapped on by a bird is a sign of good luck. In most places, ravens mean death, expect for England where the people solute crows because they are a symbol of the monarchy. I hope they don't expect me to do this because there is no way will I solute those dirty winged-rats...

In Spain, manners and politeness are absolutely superfluous. In part, this is because the language has internalized many polite forms of speech and partly because they are just considered unnecessary. This catches many visitors off guard. Even forewarned, I was taken aback. When ordering food, waiters stride right up to your table and say dime or "tell me" without inquiring about your evening or listing the house specials. If you are not ready, do not expect him to ever come back. And when you are done, be sure to ask for the bill or you will sit there for an hour wondering how to pay, as I may or may not have experienced. My roommate Zach revealed in class that it bothered him that no one said "buenos dias" to him in the morning. Maria's reply was something to the tune of: "Ay, do you walk around saying "buenos dias" to everyone in the morning??? They must think you're crazy!" All the "pleases" and "thank yous" that we throw around just leave the Spanish wondering why we pollute conversation with unnecessary clutter. My mother must have taught me good manners, as I am finding it exceedingly difficult to shed these niceties in everyday interaction. Our house-mom Reme revealed that the Spanish aren't being rude so much as more sincere, and I actually find this straightforwardness refreshing.

Yesterday, a group of us went on a little adventure to find the lighthouse in Gijon. I already liked the idea of finding a lighthouse, but it turned out we were finding the lighthouse because it was a Geo cash. As usual, it turned out to be quite the adventure involving a wild bison/beast viewing and a wrong turn that landed us in a coal mine. The rest of the group decided to head back, but Shannon and Amy and I kept on, climbing a big hill and following the path out to the lighthouse. It was quite the tourist spot with a museum and some Roman ruins, but none of this seemed important compared to the treasure hunt.

For those of you who don't know, Geo cashes are special sites hidden all over the world with objects inside that people trade and take to the next site, which is really a beautiful idea that makes the world seem a lot smaller. Some of these objects are called 'travel bugs' meaning they have a website with all the places they have been and where they are trying to end up. Shannon had a piece of a bike she found in Portland that was trying to get to Italy. I was surprised how the thrill of the hunt affected us because even Amy and I were getting really into it and searching between all the rocks. It felt like quite the victory when we pulled away some rocks around the wall and found a Tupperware container full of random objects that people have left. Geocashes are VERY hard to find since they normally just have coordinates, so the victory was doubled.

Tongues, Picasso, and Beer

2008-08-19T16:19:00.000-07:00

So it turns out the castle is a private residence... Laaaaame, but would be cool if it were my private residence... hmm...

Also, today in class Maria discussed the importance of pronunciation at the advanced level to appear less "foreign." We had quite a bit of fun realizing the different vowel sounds our respective tongues are naturally programmed to say, while others we are hard-wired to reject. We did a few exercises. The best was hearing the English students try to pronounce the Spanish "u" and how they would get so nervous for it because their mouths are simply not programmed for that sound.

This afternoon we went to the Museo de Bellas Artes here in Oviedo with our art history professor, whom I love. I had never been to the art museum here before, but apparently we have 12 El Greco's, two Goya, one Dali, and even a Picasso! We are studying Picasso and Dali in art history this week so it was very fun to see them and have her explain it at the same time. I am glad I am taking this class before going to the Picasso Museum in Barcelona, because I saw tons of Goyas and Velazques' in the Prado and tons of El Greco's in Toledo, and I in retrospect there was so much I completely missed. Afterwards, she took us for some delicious truffle ice cream!

Tonight we went to The Asturianu again (favorite Oviedo bar) because Jonathon was holding a trivia night. At first there were nine of us in total, so we split into three times of three and, as the only people in the bar, we felt pretty confident that we would win. However, the Spanish shuffled in about 30 minutes late (so typical), and took third and first prize: a fishbowl of beer and a fish-tank of beer. I didn't feel too bad about it because the questions featured Spanish Olympics and Spanish pop music... not my specialty. Luckily for us, the winners didn't want their whale-tank of beer, so they gave it to us. We passed it around in a circle and somehow managed to finish the whole thing.

I am excited for the rest of the week: Tomorrow we are hiking up to a cathedral and cross on a hill right outside of Oviedo; Thursday a friend and I are finding the lighthouse in Gijon; Friday is MTV in Gijon, which should be a spectacle if nothing else; Saturday is our excursion to Cantabria and Eastern Asturias; and Sunday is (weather-permitting) the kayaking trip. Now please appreciate the largest beer ever!

Just an ordinary day...

2008-08-18T11:23:00.001-07:00

Today in class Maria the Awe-Prof (Awesome Profesora) decided to teach us the many colloquial phrases that rely upon stereotypes of different nationalities. It seemed odd... I wouldn't think to teach someone learning English phrases like "to jip" or "jew it down," but I guess they are more common in Spanish. Some of the phrases such as "to be the Indian" and "to drink like a Russian" were downright offensive for a room full of international students, and were we were forced to write them down in the worksheets! One funny thing was that Jill (an English student) walked into class ten minutes late right when we were discussing la punctualidad Britanica or British punctuality. Maria said she as all for breaking stereotypes.

I managed to humiliate myself horribly when asking Maria what enganar like a Chinese man meant. She said "enganar es...you know...to chit" and without really thinking about it I blurted out "to SHIT?!?" ... Everyone burst out laughing. What would that even entail? No, she assured me, it meant to cheat like a Chinese man... Ohhh, that's MUCH better! lol It only took two weeks, but I managed to let my true colors show.

Later this afternoon, I decided to go for a run down this 6-mile trail that starts from a park close to our dorm. I set out for a nice run, and ended up finding a diamond in the rough. The trail wound through the green countryside on an old train-track, meaning it went through tunnels under the mountains! It ended at this little village, and the only word I can think to describe it is quaint. It had small colorful houses with laundry drying on clotheslines, and all the weathered buildings were exposing brick. I stood out like a sore thumb with my running shorts and ipod... and being under 50. You could tell this place didn't receive a lot of foot traffic with the viciously barking dogs and the squinting eyes that followed me as I passed. (Hun, picture Gandalf entering Hobbiton) Old men would sit outside their stoop puffing on pipes (Pipes!).

Sensing I was not a welcome guest, I continued on the road just to see where it led before I turned around, and lo and behold I found a CASTLE! Albeit a small one, but still... a castle! Well, I am not really sure exactly what it was, and the walls and ominous gate prevented me from finding out, but it had two towers that stood about 50 ft high. There was a picture of the cross of the old Asturian King on the gate, so I don't know how that factors in but I intend to find out. The whole thing was positively COVERED in ivy, hence why it took me so long to see it in the first place.

That is one of the things I love about this place. You can set out for a completely normal day, and stumble across something amazing. Ordinary doesn't exist here. The minute I get into a routine, something wild happens to turn it all on its head. But that's what makes it exciting, and that's what makes it go by so fast!

German Bar-B!

2008-08-17T03:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was very rainy and blah forcing us to postpone the kayak trip till next weekend. I was fine with it though... Who wants to kayak in the rain? Instead, a couple of girls and I went to Gijon to try the beach. It was fun until the rain found that place too.

The highlight of the day was by far the German barbecue. Now this barbecue, and our invitation to it, was kind of iffy. On the bus-ride home from our excursion on Friday, one German girl took the microphone and began saying something in really fast German that caused people to raise their hands and salivate. I looked around confusedly, until someone said "en espanol!" She then relayed in Spanish that the Germans were throwing a BBQ and that we were welcome. Half of the Americans could not understand the Spanish, so it remained hazy if we were really invited or not.

A group of us decided to go anyway; we were simply unable to pass up the chance at free food. To ensure our welcome, we stopped at the store and bought a few bottles of wine, a chocolate cake, chips and guacamole, and macaroons. When we arrived at the park, I was expecting your typical mass-produced barbecue food: roasted hot dogs and a bag of chips. I was sorely mistaken. The array of foods that colored the picnic tables was a site to behold. Baguettes with home-made sauces, fruit salads, melon salads, pasta salads, REAL LETTUCE SALADS (!), vegetable kabobs, potatoes, and the meat! Oh the meat... REAL BRATWURSTS!!! I was on my second brat (and feeling very full) when one girl said "After this take a pause cause the real meat is about to come." I was very surprised to hear this and replied: "This isn't the real meat?" She just looked at me and laughed and said "You've never been to a German barbecue before have you?" No I had not, but they sure know their stuff!

Even better than the food was the wonderful company. Traveling friends have told me that Germany is one of the best places to visit because of the friendly people and delicious food. I know believe them and want to go there SOOOO bad! More than France, even. Initially, I was excited to practice my Spanish at the BBQ, but this didn't end up happening as all the Germans spoke English. It's weird that they are so proficient in at least two or three languages while most Americans only speak one: American. It is a critique of both American society and our educational system. The social critique is the idea that we somehow don't need to learn other languages because of cultural imperialism. Everyone else should have to learn our language. Even those that do try to learn other languages can study for years and years and still feel marvelously insufficient (like me). Germany's educational system is one of the top in the world, while America's is wayyyy down there. I am three classes away from a Spanish major, and I struggle to hold a basic conversation...

Another fun topic of conversation was stereotypes. Germans have all these ideas about Americans based off of MTV. I couldn't help but laugh to hear that shows like My Super Sweet 16 and Flavor of Love were forming international opinions about our society. I explained that the reason those are shows on TV is because they are absolutely ridiculous. One girl Christine leaned in with big eyes and whispered "you mean ze gerls do not get ze sportzcar on zer birthday?" It does happen, but not to the degree they think. Other stereotypes were more accurate: driving everywhere instead of walking, not taking school seriously... They asked what stereotypes we had about Germans, and all I could think of was the strict German schoolmistress and the harsh language. They did not find these to be true at all.

What a fun group of people! We tried to meet up with them at the bars later, but couldn't find them. They only have one more week in Spain, so we'll get them before they go. They had all these great German cheers, and they LOVED to hear us try them. They broke out into a drinking song for our entertainment, which ended up being "Iiiiif you're gooooing to Zaaan Fraanzizco???" I couldn't stop laughing.

I should get off of here... I have the most horrible habit of rambling on and on. I was so happy to make some new friends and eat some delicious food. And now I MUST find my heritage there. They assured me they would help.

Covadonga and So Much More!!!

2008-08-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

Omg so much has happened! It is so weird how for days and days nothing will happen, and then BOOM! Like a crappy horror movie, everything happens in the last half hour. This will be somewhat of a catch-up post, so if you are not a fan of long blogs (or simply don't wish to hear me rant for page after page), then this just isn't the blog for you. Now that I have effectively frightened the majority of you away, let's get on with it, mom!

So yesterday we had our midterm, which absolutely blows my mind that I am half done with school here. It is going by so fast! It is also a double-holiday in Gijon (the neighboring city on the sea). All week Gijon has been celebrating themselves as a city. I love this idea. It is comparable to the Portland Rose Festival, but much grander than the Eugene Celebration. There has been live music every night and last night was a spectacular fireworks show over the ocean from behind the Cathedral. It started at midnight, and literally EVERYONE crowded onto the beach to watch. This was unusual because just hours prior there had been a huuuuge rain and thunderstorm (the likes of which this region rarely sees) that scared many home. It caught us on our way to the train station, but luckily we ducked into my new favorite bar called The Asturianu. It recently opened, and feels very homey with wood paneling, barrels, and old beer bottles. It is run by a former program-student from OSU named Jonathon, who decided to just never go home after studying in Oviedo. We speculate there is a girl involved somewhere, but are too embarrassed to ask.

Ok, I'm getting side-tracked. So the Gijon celebration was amplified because today (Friday) is a Spanish holiday celebrating the Virgen de Begonia. Spain celebrates by shutting down all its stores, and settling into two camps: Those who do not work in the Tourist industry and can become tourists, and those who do work in the tourist industry and must work. We fell in the former category! Because of the holiday, we did not have class and went on our excursion instead. The first stop was a town called Cangas de Onis, and was really not that cool. It had a Roman bridge and we went for a nice little walk in the country, but it was pretty uneventful. The hot ticket of the day was Los Lagos de Covadonga. This is a destination that had been attempted twice last month and failed both times due to inclement weather. All day we kept asking "Podemos ir a los lagos?" to which the professors shook their heads, indicating we wouldn't know until we got there and the weather permitted our passage.

Well guess what. It did! And I am so glad it did too, because it was gorgeous! The Lagos are some lakes that sit way up in the Picos de Europa, which is a mountain range on the ocean and the first national park in Spain. When I say it was "way up," I mean wayyyyyy up. We're talking one of the longest most nauseating twisty-twindy rides up the mountains of my life, and with my father, that's saying something. These bus drivers were hauling ass too, and flying past each other on a single-lane road. It didn't help that my friend Casey (next to me) kept citing statistics on bus accidents in 3rd world countries and saying "It only takes a slip of the hand and we're scrambled eggs at the bottom.." But when we got there, it was so worth it! The lakes were nestled in the mountains and cows were roaming EVERYWHERE. Hiking all around, I seriously felt like Heidi and I haven't even visited the Alps yet! The only downside was the exorbitant amount of tourists, but because we were not restricted to trails, I was able to go off on my own and get away from the crowds.

I did not think that anything would be worth our time after the Lagos, but Covadonga proved a worthy contender. At the base of the mountains, this cave with a church built right into it was the site of first Asturian King's victory against the Arab troops, and the beginning of the Reconquest. Lots of mystery surrounds the site, as it is fabled that an image at the Virgin appeared to the Christian soldiers before their battle. At the base of the cave, there is a fountain with special powers. If one is able to drink from all seven faucets without taking a breath, they will find love in their lives, or be married within the year if they have love. It was fun to watch people try and do it, but I steered clear of that thing... no thank you! There was also a beautiful cathedral closeby, which was fun to walk in and smell the old air. It contrasted nicely to the fresh mountain air.

After that, we were exhausted and slept the whole bus-ride home. Tomorrow we are going kayaking at a town we passed today. Later in the evening, the Germans invited us to a BBQ, so that should be fun. I can't wait to have some REAL meat that is not-ham! Hope all is well, and thanks for bearing with this long post...those of you who made it anyway. :)

Two Treatises on Language...or three

2008-08-13T11:15:00.000-07:00

I have no been studying in a foreign country for three weeks and would like to note a few things about language.

#1: Language doesn't exist. Either that or it varies more than the mood of a woman with PMS. In first grade geography, they teach you: "What language do they speak in Latin America and Spain?" and when you answer "Spanish," the teacher smiles at you and gives you a gold star because on the surface this is true. But take a Spaniard and place him in the heart of Peru and just see how easily he gets by. Even within a country such as Spain, this idea of the uniformity of language doesn't exist. Since each province feels a loyalty to their own self rather than the idea of a unified Spain, they each speak their own variation of Spanish. Catalunya in Northern Spain (with Barcelona) is perhaps the best example of this with their native Catalan and almost disgust for Castilian Spanish. Even within Castilian, the Galicians have their own words as well as the Asturians. Anyone from Mexico knows that frijoles is a delicious dish of black beans, but to a Spaniard frijoles means Mexican beans and regular beans are acaroles, and frEjoles are green beans, but that's only here in the Asturias. Confusing, no?

One of our first days of class, I was explaining something about a car and I called it carro, which is a perfectly acceptable thing to call a car... in America! My German class-mate, however, did not think so, as he adamantly insisted that it was a false cognate and that I should say coche. The truth is they are both right. They are even both Spanish. Carro is just the americanized version of the signifier, but it is still widely used throughout Latin America. Does the fact that it is not a Spain word make it any less Spanish? I have no idea!

#2: Translation doesn't exist. In my criticism class last year, we read a widely-recognized scholar by the name of Walter Benjamin, who wrote a paper called "The Task of the Translator." Within it, he destroyed and reworked the concept of translation. Largely, translation has been considered an art in itself. When translating a metaphor or a poem, the translator finds a different comparison within the language that effectively accommodates the ideas. An example of this is the popular expression "It's a small world," which is commonly used when you stumble upon your great aunt's son-in-law's dog in a strange locale. A Spanish version of this popular phrase is El mundo es un panuelo, which literally means "The world is a napkin." How does a napkin relate to finding relations in a world of nearly 7 billion people? I have no idea. But for that matter what does the concept of the Earth's size have anything to do with it? Benjamin advocates for translating an expression literally to more effectively show the distinctions and subtleties of language, even if meaning is erased. However, there are times where this can get you into trouble, which I discovered in Madrid on my worst day ever! I was trying to explain to a man at a Tapestry Factory that I wanted to come in because I had time to kill before my bus left. Without even thinking about it, I translated the idiom literally, and by the blanched look on his face he thought I meant I had time to kill. Needless to say, I was not welcomed with open arms into the Tapestry place.

#3: Learning a foreign language helps you understand your own better. Much research has been conducted in this area, none of which I have read, but I can say from personal experience that I understand a little better how English works by using Spanish as a point of contrast. I would even go so far as to say that learning a foreign language helps you understand THAT language better. Try to have a native speaker explain the subjunctive tense, and you will never understand it EVER. They have used it their whole lives and it only makes sense when it works and when it doesn't. But in English, where such a tense does not even exist, it takes years even decades to understand when and why it is necessary. Because of this, having a native English-speaker explain it is so much more easy and helpful.

Ayayay, there is so much to say about this. I haven't even touched on points 4, 5, and 6, probably because I don't know what they are yet. Sorry for this long diatribe. I guess this post kind of reflects the mellow day we have had here. Tomorrow is the big festival in Gijon with the fireworks and music, so that should be exciting. Over and out!

First Excursion

2008-08-11T07:03:00.000-07:00

Hello all! Long time no write. Sorry about that; things have been so busy... Let's recount the events of our first excursion last Saturday to the sights of Western Asturias!

We all piled into two large buses at the bright hour of 10:30am and headed to the pre-roman ruins of Castro de Coana. Castro literally means "ruins" and although they are uncertain of what group exactly constructed the stone village, they do know it that was between the 1st and 2nd century CE. Pretty darn old. At first all you see is a pile of stones, but upon closer inspection (and enlightenment from a guide) you see the strategic layout of the village with circular stone huts centered around plaza and corral and baths, even habitations for the sick, off yonder. Of course you must imagine that back in the day they were much taller, and had thatched roofs, and people and all, but its pretty cool to see something that is older than anything you can even imagine. (Q: Why do so many Spanish people have red hair? A: From their Celtic roots!)

Our second stop was the seaside village of Luarca. Luarca had beautiful stretch of beach with water so blue, it was unlike anything you can find on the Oregon coast even though we have roughly the same climate. We climbed up a hill to a stone cemetery and chapel that was all completely white (like Gondor, but for the dead), which made a lovely contrast with the blue of the ocean. I wanted so badly to be able to capture it all in one picture, but this was impossible because of its grandiosity. So here are two. Also say hello to Emily and Casey, mis amigos.
Our final stop on the trip was a smaller fishing village called Cudillero. This village featured the popular architectural style of layered multi-colored buildings tucked into the side of a mountain that ran right into the ocean. It was something you would associate more with the French or Italian Riviera, but is actually in Spain too. The kids on the bottom right were sliding down the boat ramp into the sea on algae. It was cute. We didn't stay in Cudillero for long because to be honest there wasn't much to do, and we had to prepare for the Aspicha!

So the Aspicha is a traditional Asturian fiesta that means "welcome party," and as we were all coming to Oviedo to study Spanish from the four corners of the world, it only made sense that we would have one. The traditional Aspicha celebrates the first opening of the cidra kegs in the fall (Ah! A test to see who remembers my blog about cidra! it's the apple "cider"). It kinda reminded me of the Festival of Bacchus the wine god because there is unlimited food and drink and everyone gorges themselves and talks loudly and listens to bagpipes... all in general merriment. I did not know I was a fan of bagpipes, in fact I rather thought I hated them, but listening to these two musicians blend and harmonize the traditional Asturian songs was so beautiful... it was the only thing that could make me stop eating! The food was also delicious, and although it had its fair share of ham and fried squid, there was some tasty empenada and about twenty different variations of potatoes and cheese. Every time I thought they were done, the camareros would bring out ANOTHER full plate of food, which of course I had to try. To drink, there was the aspicha (poured on high and spilled ALL OVER) and sangria and vino tinto. This, they also brought out in great abundance which brings me to my next point of discussion: The Ugly American.

Now within the program, there are a fair share of Oregon students who did not come to Spain to learn Spanish or experience culture. They came to drink. Granted, it is understood that everyone goes a little nuts at Aspicha, but some of our group members made me turn my head in complete embarrassment. You know the stereotype of the drunk American who only comes to Europe to party? Not only do they fulfill that, they adopt it willingly. One girl stumbled around with a bottle of wine in her hand and was drinking so much her mouth turned purple. Later, she could be found doing the worm across the cidra-filled floor. Another girl was wearing a skirt so short that when she bent over... (fill in the blank). Another girl got on her knees and had her friend pour sangria into her mouth from the pitcher until a waiter had to tell them to stop. And the Italians, the Germans, the Australians (and more than a few Americans) were disgusted. I wanted to say: "Look, were not all like this" but it seemed better to just disassociate at that point. It wasn't even like they drank a little too much and acted stupid; the stuff they were doing was so deliberate and conscious and really gives Americans a bad rep.

This week there is a biiiiig fiesta week here in the Asturias. There is a holiday on Friday and a huge firework show and even a bullfight in Gijon to celebrate a local saint. I am excited. And with that, I leave you with some Aspicha fun!

An Asturian Adventure

2008-08-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

I have found my new favorite activity in the Asturias: hiking. Yesterday I walked up a big hill trying to find a well-know park, but instead I found a great view of the city and surrounding countryside. I enjoyed the walk so much, and the chance to be out in the cool air, that I naturally jumped at the opportunity to go hiking after class today with some friends from the dorm.

We took a short train to a nearby town, and began walking to find the trail. Apparently on the hikes they have done so far, there has been no signs or markings for the trails whatsoever, so we were quite surprised to find a clear trailhead and even a map. This hike was quite legit! It was called Carrera de Casteo and was a 15 kilometers (about four hours en total). It climbed the hills and valleys of the Asturias to reveal breath-taking panoramic views of the beautiful country homes, clustered towns, and abundant greenery. I loved the hiking air, which smelled like hay and cold and freshness, and is the same everywhere. It wound through quite a bit of farmland, which aroused much laughter among us over the different mannerisms of the farm animals here: the dogs either ignore or bark viciously at you, while the horses run up playfully to get petted on the nose. There was rumors of an ancient Roman bridge nearby; we never found it, but it was entertaining to declare "Ah, behold, the great pre-romanesque bridge that has withstood the test of time!" to every wooden creek-crossing we came to.

Gradually, we made our way up to a GIANT rock resembling a mummy. At its base the trail hung left and we headed into some "rough hiking." Now please understand that this trail had thusfar gone from well-paved road to gravel road to dirt road to no road at all, and back again, all with very friendly and well-marked signs. So when it took a turn away from the nice road, we followed it dutifully thinking nothing of it. Branches were closing in, thorns were scraping, but this was just a rough patch, right? I had remembered thinking as I looked at the plants, "Gee, that kinda looks like stinging nettle" but a lot of plants look like stinging nettle, and this was Spain after all; it could have been anything. It wasn't until we were waist deep in thick brush that I started to feel a burning sensation on my legs. It seemed to hit us all like a ton of bricks. All of a sudden, people were swearing and yelling as we brushed against those DEVIL plants and the pain sunk in. We kept yelling to Zach to turn around, but he insisted that we just had to get through it.

Stinging nettle, btw, is awful. I have had the fortune to never fall victim to poison oak so I do not know its effects, but I had no idea a plant, A FREAKING PLANT, could do that to you. Burning pain immediately upon contact, blood rushing to the surface, and boils breaking out all over your body... I even got off lucky as I had jean capris on, and only got a small bit on my ankles. I felt very sorry for Zach, who blazed the trail, and Emily, who wore shorts. They got the worst of it. As people were swearing and crying in pain, a very chaotic series of events began to unfold quite rapidly. First, Jana decided that this was too much to handle and she would jump over the barbed-wire fence into the horse pasture nextdoor. I decided to follow suit. Emily decided to get un-stuck from the blackberry bush that had her hair caught in several places. Zach decided to come back and see if the pasture would be a good idea. At that moment, Jana and I jumped back over the barbed-wire fence as a male bull was coming toward us. We knew there was probably no danger, but I was wearing red, and again, it is Spain... Sam and Zach decided that there was no danger from the bull and hopped over to see if the trail improved above. And then the funniest thing happened. Pardon a bit of "low humor" here, but this was too funny to not mention. If Chaucer can pull it off, then so can I. There was also a friendly white horse in the pasture, and as Zach jumped down, the horse got spooked and ran away letting out the longest fart I have ever heard in my life. Zach turned around and said, "That horse just ripped!" and we took a brief moment to laugh hysterically in midst of the situation.

It took quite a bit of fence-hopping and trespassing to make it to a decent part of the trail, but it resumed as usual with its ever-helpful signs and arrows. It seemed funny that so well-marked a trail could have so treacherous a stretch to it, but as Sam mentioned, that nettle could be the product of just a month, and it IS the beginning of the vacation month here. We may have been the first ones on that trail for a while. Overall, it was absolutely beautiful and really fun. When we got home, we took quick showers and headed out for pizza and beer. It was well-deserved. The stinging has faded to an annoying tingling, but paired with the mosquito bites I have grown accustomed to ignoring sensations on my skin. Hopefully, it will go away soon. It was a fun adventure, but now I am exhausted, so goodnight all!

When in Spain

2008-08-05T12:20:00.000-07:00

Apparently I look Spanish. Several of the girls have talked about how traveling in Spain is difficult because they often receive weird looks and less-than-friendly exchanges even though some of them are native speakers! I piped in that I had not been on the receiving end of any hostility, however mild, and that everyone has been perfectly kind and helpful. The Spanish even go so far as to ask me directions and questions of clarification randomly on the street. This has prompted me to wonder what part of me with luggage in tow and map/camera in hand does not scream absolute tourist. One girl Jessica took a long look at me and declared that my short stature, pale skin, curly hair, and facial features all combine to make me appear, at least APPEAR, Spanish. Of course the minute I open my mouth, the cat is out of the bag. But hey, I'm not complaining. I fit in!

Today was the first day of class, and it relieved any worry in my mind that this would be even slightly difficult at all. We only have class from 9:30 am to 1 pm, and from 1-2 there is a module option for conversation, movie, art & history, or business. The Spanish professors are all very chill and funny, a lot like Eugene professors, and class goes by really fast with games and convo. In our class, we have several of us norteamericanos, along with some Germans, Australians, English, one Italian, one Cambodian, and some girls from a place I had never heard of that is Eastern Mediterranean. It is kinda cool that Spanish is all we have in common because it forces us to use it even after class.

After class we had our "walking tour of Oviedo" with the art history professor. We went to the catedral, walked around the Old Quarter, and drank cidra, which is not as sweet as hard cider, but tastes more like an appley beer. They pour it waaaaaaaay over their heads like the Spanish coffee at Huber's in Portland. The waiters make such a show of it, and look into your eyes rather than at the bottle or the glass. Apparently it absolutely MUST be poured this way, so we all took turns unfortunately spilling most of our cidra :(. After you pour, you must drink the whole thing in one gulp, and empty the remains on the ground. I forget why this is, but I am thinking its an ashes to ashes kinda thing. Here are five things you didn't know about cathedrals (or maybe you did): 1) There is only one in every town. 2) They all face east. Why east? Jerusalem is east. 3) They are built with the money of the townspeople, not the church. 4) They are modeled like a body: head, arms, torso. and, 5) They have relics. The Cathedral in Oviedo is famous for its relics, which include a cross the Asturian king used when he rode into battle against the Moors, a cloth with the face of La Virgen, Jesus' used nappy, etc, etc.

I am finding it very easy to adapt to the Spanish lifestyle. It suddenly makes an incredible amount of sense to eat a big lunch after class, and take a siesta to sleep it off. Why on earth wouldn't I eat dinner at 10:30 pm with the elderly and families alike, and go out with friends after? In America, the nightlife gets started around 8, and by 1am bars are closing up shop and people are dragging themselves back to bed. But in Spain, if you arrive at a bar at midnight, they literally have to turn the lights on for you... Extrano, no? That being said, I am off to dinner!

Holy Toledo!

2008-08-04T08:44:00.000-07:00

This phrase actually comes from the strong Jewish population that thrived in Toledo. Like Granada, Toledo is a cultural melting pot that was at one time or another occupied by Visi-goths, Muslims, Christians, Jews (or Sefardi) and Roma, oftentimes together in relative peace and harmony. That did not last for long, so the story goes. Toledo is a city on a hill... probably one of the only hills in Spain. They say that everything is uphill, and it certainly feels that way. It is surrounded on three sides by the Tejo River, and the third side still has remnants of a Muslim wall constructed to keep those Christians out. (These walls were apparently more popular than they were successful). There are remnants of each civilization in Toledo, such as an old Roman aqueduct, the Muslim wall, Sefardi synagogue, and Christian Cathedral, which is huuuuuuge. I know I keep saying this, but they keep getting bigger and bigger. I remember the first cathedral I saw in Madrid was the Catedral de San Jeronimo and it nearly took my breath away. Well, that cathedral is a camping hut compared to the one in Toledo. Because of its history as the ancient capital of Madrid, no modern architecture is allowed within the city walls, which gives Toledo a very preserved quality. The controversial McDonald's in the Plaza Zocodover was only allowed one tiny arch to allow for this authenticity.

In Toledo, I took a very touristy train (picture Thunder Mountain in Disneyland, but without tracks) into the surrounding hills to get some better views of the city. I sat next to an older Canadian couple who were astonished to find that I was traveling alone, and decided to "take me under their wing" so to speak. They were quite nice, but I parted with them in the Cathedral, preferring my solitude in such a regal and jaw-dropping space. I ate a partridge and bean stew and tinto de verano (summer wine) at a Rick-Steves-approved restaurant, and headed to a "Exhibicion de Antiguos Instrumentos de Tortura" (Ancient Instruments of Torture!). Not only did it exhibit some of the gnarliest torture devices, but it provided a helpful English commentary into the Inquisition and the ways they used torture to extract information BEFORE sentencing... as if sitting in a spike-covered chair wasn't enough! One device used for drunkards involved carrying a heavy vat filled with water around, which reminded me uncannily of my backpack. I then visited the Sefardi Museum and Santa Cruz (big art museum with lots of El Greco's), but didn't fully enjoy these for lack of time. I bought some delicious Marzapan, which is the dessert of Toledo made from almonds and sugar and some jams...quite tasty!

Since then, I have traveled to Oviedo, settled in my room, met the other Oregon folk, and been orientated... suffice to say a lot has happened. Everyone seems really nice, which relieves me immensely. We all went out for food and drink last night, and it was fun to actually be around people again! In the middle of the night, my bathroom-mate, who is a dude I had not yet met, came bursting through my room, which scared the crap out of me. I shrieked, and he apologized claiming he thought no one was there, which I don't quite understand since my stuff was already in our communal bathroom. We have worked out a system so that this does not happen again.

Although I had a wonderful week of travel, I am happy to be in Oviedo. The traveler alone must constantly be aware of where she is, where she is going, where her luggage is, where her luggage is going... Being in a group has allowed me the luxury to sit back and follow the crowd, pass through already open doors, and eat at well-recommended eateries. The downside to this that I have no idea where anything in Oviedo is, but I am excited to learn it at a slower pace. Oviedo is the principal city in the province of Asturias. Asturias, unlike the majority of Spain, was never conquered by the Muslims so it does not have the traditional "Spanish" feel. Its historical influences are Celtic, Gothic, and Christian, meaning babpipes and cidra (alcoholic cider) are more popular than bull-fights, flamenco, and hot sun. It was the place where the Reconquest began, and is attributed with being the "origins of Spain," ironically enough. It is rather chilly here, and the rain and greenery remind me a lot of Oregon, which is a happy thought. We will be going to excursions so some of the surrounding natural beauty and ruins. I am excited to hike near mountains and lakes. We watched a video showing the sites in this natural-park and it was set to bag-pipe music... seriously it seemed more Irish than Spanish. I know understand what the people meant when they said this place was "different," but I am excited to become better-acquainted with it during the next month.

OH!-- and you know how I kept whining and complaining that I was going to be gone for SIX WHOLE MONTHS!!..? Well, I was talking to a girl who is doing the same thing and she said..."You do realize it's only five months, right?" And I counted the months out on my fingers and realized that yes! It's only five! Four and a half, to be more specific! Which is very tolerable, and not scary at all.

Some photos!

2008-08-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

Have a look!

2008-08-01T14:21:00.000-07:00

Pura Vida!

2008-07-31T15:42:00.000-07:00

Granada is such an easy city to spoil yourself in. In fact I am beginning to think this is true of Spain in general. Sensually it is a veritable smorgasbourg of sights, sounds, and tastes. Tonight I went upstairs to find a delicious mix of red rice, blue-shelled oysters, and other colors simmering happily in a pan. This is paella, and is to Spain what the McBurger is to America, but much classier. There are many different types of sherry that the restaurants try to push on you, along with the yummy sangria... mmm... yummy sangria.

Today I met up with two girls from the Oviedo program, and we toured Christian Granada, visiting the Royal Chapel where Ferdinand and Isabella are buried, along with the second biggest Cathedral in Spain. The Cathedral has high, vaulted ceilings, which are very nice if you like that sort of thing, but they also amplify noise to godly proportions. As those closest to me know, I have a problem with burping. It is nothing I can help, so I have come to accept it. It is my gift and my curse. Unfortunately, what they forget to tell you in Burping 101 for Babies is that burping in a Cathedral is so loud that even God will answer your prayer just to shut you up. I figured this out the hard way.

Later in the evening, I went to the Hammum Abab Bath House, which re-creates the Arab bath experience. The place was dimly-lit, and the insides were like a mini Alhambra. A very mini-mini-mini- Alhambra. There were three bath pools (cold, hot, and tepid), along with a tea room and a spa. Massage therapists (you like that? only cause I don't know how to spell "massoost..masuste..massuste"?) called us back one by one for our 15-minute massage after the soak. I was close to last, which meant my massage was shortest, and my body the pruniest. Still, it was quite the luxury, and and sitting back I thought that it would be pretty nice being a sultan.

So after a wonderful day of walking around the city, it has easily slipped into first place as my favorite in Spain. I know I have only been to two so far, but who's counting? Tomorrow, I'm headed back to Madrid, but will be spending Saturday in Toledo. Hope everyone back west is doing well! I miss you all, and hope life is good. Hasta luego!

Give him a penny, woman, cause there is nothing worse than being blind in Granada!

2008-07-31T02:49:00.000-07:00

This is really true. Granada in general, and the Alhambra in particular, have an old world charm that is partly caused by its layering of civilization. From the ground up, we have a Roman ruins followed by the Alcazaba, the old tower and fort that once defended the Muslims against those reconquesting Christians, the Palacios Narazies, the Sultan's quarters during the Moorish reign of Al-Andalus (Spain), and Charles V's palace, which he built over the Muslim palace after they were conquered. And connecting these parts, are the Generalife (he-ne-ral-eef-ay) Gardens, which put the Oregon Gardens to shame.

Ok, that was a lot of unnecessary history to tell you that the ALHAMBRA COMPLETELY ROCKED!!!! It was such an elegant, simple beauty with the main architectural features being marble, plaster stalactites, open courtyards, and water, which was upheld as the closest thing to heaven (and in a desert, believe you me, it is). By simple, I do not mean it was any less grand. It just had a more refined grandoisity to it compared to, for instance, the Royal Palace in Madrid, which is all showy and barroque. (And I always say: If it's not barroque, don't fix it!... ha ha..ha) I spent several hours wandering around like a pez dispenser and snapping about a million photos. Seeing the Alhambra was the single motivating factor in coming to Granada, as it is for most people. I was fascinated by the palace, and how it has survived over the years.

I spent the rest of the day walking and busing around the Old Moorish Quarters, dodging Roma women (or Gypsies, in colloquial terms) who kept accosting me with sprigs of rosemary and trying to seize me hands to read a fortune and get some cizash. Ana the Aussie said that she thought they were all nuns outside of churches who were collecting for the poor, and thus gave to them generously. Oddly enough, seeing the Alhambra today actually made me quite sad because it was so beautiful and there was no one to share it with.

Yesterday, as you may or may not have noticed, did not get a post. This is mostly because it was a horrible day. I'll give you the reader's digest version, becuase I don't want to rehash every gritty detail of the horrible nightmare. Let's just be vague and mysterious and say that I carried heavy luggage around for four hours, saw boring sights, almost got stranded and a random city until I ran after the bus and flagged it down, wandered the streets of Granada for hours...alone...at night...trying to find the impossible hostel (or should I say hostile) that no one had ever heard of because it was in a FREAKING ABANDONED ALLEY... Well, I am alive and happy, and learned a few lessons that day... such as: Don't follow directions from people who clearly don't know what they are talking about!

The hostel, upon second review, turns out to be wonderful. It is called the "Funky Backpacker's Hostel," and it is full of English-speaking travelers who came to Granada from all over for the same reasons I did. I met some very cool people that quickly brought me out of my loneliness. One fellow Adrien the Aussie (apparently all of my friends here are destined to be Australian) and I decided to see a flamenco performance at the Alhambra last night. It was quite an expensive performance, but the idea was to blend flamenco with more contemporary dance styles such as STOMP from New York. Although it was very good, it wasn't quite the traditional flamenco we were looking for, even though it did have elements of cante jondo or the "deep song" Roma roots to flamenco that is very pretty. Adrien is graduated and does "computer animation," which he described as making short movie clips "like Pixar." He kept comparing it to Pixar and then saying "but not Pixar" when I would get very excited that he did their short movies. Anyway, he just finished a project and is in month two of a TEN MONTH tour of Europe... and I thought a week alone was tough... We sat next to a Professor from Northwestern University and his nosy wife who managed to extract my entire life story in a few short minutes including the age-old question dreaded by all college students: "So what are your plans after college?" *Shudder*

It has been a wonderful day, mostly because I discovered the panacea for loneliness: making friends with strangers. Pictures will come soon, but I haven't uploaded from my camera yet.

Gotta Love the Ham

2008-07-28T13:54:00.000-07:00

You know the madrilenos love their ham when you see it featured on every menu, legs of it hanging from random stores, and "El Museo de Jabon" (A Ham Museum!). I walked by this today and thought it was so funny I would go explore the deep connection between Spain and the dead pig. But, upon closer inspection of walls of raw meat, I moved on.

Today I set out hopefully for another day of "sight-seeing alone" when I stopped upon hearing a young Irish bloke giving a tour in English! I slyly slipped in and followed for a few blocks feeling secretly triumphant that I was freely getting information others had paid for, but it turns out this is a free tour service offered in many European cities. It was quite fun and engaging, since he had members of the audience come up to play the people of the royal family only to reveal embarrassing details about their lives. I made sure to steer clear of the roles of Juana la Loca and King Phillip V. We quickly saw quite a few things such as La Plaza Mayor, the place of bull-fighting, executions of the Inquisition, state receptions; the Royal Palace; the Cathedral; Police Station where Franco tortured victims of the Civil War; some Moorish ruins; and a lot of superlatives such as "oldest restaurant in the world" or "the oldest door in Spain." The kind of thing you go "ah" to and then never think about again. It was not very historically-savvy ("No one's heard of Cervantes? Then we'll skip that part."), but still fun to be among English-speaking people. We stopped for lunch at a Tapas Bar, and I sat with an English lady, a couple from Arizona (of which the boyfriend was very excited that I had climbed at Smith), and an Australian girl who became my friend and toured with me for the rest of the day. We all traded advice on traveling in Spain, and it was fun to eat with a like-minded bunch.

Ana, Australian friend, looks not much older than me and is a kindergarten teacher in Australia who works for a number of weeks and then gets several off to tour around the world. She had spent a month in Spain and did not speak a lick of Spanish, which delighted me because it meant that I could translate for her and resolve her issues with museum people, and look really good doing it. She was very fun to travel with, having the same excited mannerisms as me, but absolutely no sense of direction...it was fun. We went to the Royal Palace and the Cathedral together, and took tons of pictures and oo-ed and aw-ed over all the glory.

Royal Palace, btw, is the most elaborate thing I have ever seen, and one of the most elaborate things in Europe. It took 400 years to finish (more from laziness than anything else) and its builder Carlos III, who was profoundly influenced by the French, wanted it to be his own Versailles. His wife of Italian origin also carried a great influence in its building. Anyway, its rooms are baroque style with vaulted portrait ceilings, velvet and silk-tapestried walls, porcelain and gold-wrought decor, and low-hanging crystal chandeliers. Very cool. And I figured out why the Hapsburgs were so unsightly...they were all inbred!!!

After that I must have become over-confident of finding my way around Madrid, because I tried to find The Sophia Reina Museum to see Picasso's Guernica, and became horribly lost and had to hop a max over there, only to find that they closed in half an hour. This saddened me immensely because the museum is closed tomorrow which is my last day in Madrid. I brightened up shortly after when an old, not-creepy man helped me with directions; we had a lovely Spanish chat. I ended up walking all over, passing through the botanical gardens and laying on the grass a bit. I ended up at a place to have traditional churros and chocolate. Churros are a Spanish staple that are nothing like American churros because, although fried, they are not slathered in cinnamon. Instead, they dip them in "hot chocolate" with is also nothing like hot chocolate, but a melted milk chocolate. It was quite good, though rich, so I did not finish all of it.

Tomorrow I head to Granada, home of the Alhambra!!!

Hola from Madrid!!!!

2008-07-27T12:45:00.000-07:00

After the long flight, I somehow managed to fall into this groove called "everything working out perfectly." Here are a few examples: I sailed through customs even though I do not have a visa and am staying for six months. I somehow took the 45 minute Metro ride with three transfers straight to my hostel, thereby saving on taxi fare. I walked directly to all my destinations without getting lost on the windy non-city-block streets...to name a few.

With my ISIC card, I got a free beer from the hostel. After a long flight and no sleep, I drank it promptly and took a 2 hour siesta. After the nap I decided to walk around the city. I walked to the Puerta del Sol (the main hub), then I continued on to the Prado Museum, which houses one of the top collections of European art. I was most interested in the Spanish Art, especially that of Fransisco Goya, Diego Velásquez, and "El Greco." I was so excited to see "Las Meninas," Velasquez' piece on the royal family of Felipe IV which completely refocuses the piece on the art rather than the subject. Goya's similar portrait of the family of Carlos IV was also a favorite. In addition to some cool, awesome paintings, there were also some weird, random paintings. One featured a statue of the Virgin Mary squiring real milk out of her breast onto a saint praying below, another had a representation from heaven taking a bite out of a soft, fleshy-looking baby, and several portraits were of midgets, which think held a similar role as the court jester, since they are oft painted together. There were several rooms that were dedicated to the Hapsburg family, and all I could think was that I felt sorry for Velásquez for having to paint such an ugly family. It reminded me of a Simpson's episode in which Mr. Burns commissions a ton of artists to paint him, but they all drastically improve his features to his own dissatisfaction, but then Marge does a statue of his true ugliness, and he likes it. I wonder if Vasquez was exaggerating their button-noses and giant lips. I remember learning in biology that those lips were a recessive trait, in which case I feel for those Hapsburgs as someone who suffers from attached earlobes.

After El Prado I walked around Retiro Park, which is the Washington Park of Madrid i.e. main city park. It used to be the "retiring" park for the royal family, but Alfonso XII opened it to the general public. It is very pretty, and could really be an Oregon Park with people lounging on the lawn and lots of performers.

First Impressions of Madrid: For so long Spain was considered "el pais atras" (the backwards country) among the European Nations, but from what I can tell (from one day that is) is that this city is very efficient, especially with transportation. I was told that people do not run here, and all they eat is ham, and fried foods. Well, I passed five runners in the park, and saw salads and grains at all the restaurants I passed, although they do love their ham. I had a ham n' Iberian cheese quesadilla to see what it was all about, and it was quite good. I also see a lot of similarities between Madrid and Portland, which perhaps is why I like it so much. I am having a great time, and am really liking this city.

I'm goin to Miami (aruriariami)

2008-07-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

Hello honored guests. I am so pleased to find that you have read my first post. Unfortunately, there is not much to report, as I have been flying all day, except that I am alive and safely in Miami for the night. Tomorrow evening my flight leaves for Madrid, and I should arrive there (hopefullyyyyy) at 8:30 a.m. on Sunday just in time to make my way to the Puerto del Sol and visit El Prado Museum.

After some initial pre-flight jitters, I started reciting my self-inspired get-pumped-up mantra of "Now starts the adventure of a lifetime... You are a woman of the world... You will finally SEE the places you have read about and studied since forever..." And you know what? It actually worked...

I think it is heading into the unknown more than any self-doubt that causes these travel jitters. Somewhere in the back of my head there is a horrible short clip looping over and over of me stepping off the plane in Madrid with a deep sigh only to trip unceremoniously on the curb, lose my luggage, wander the streets naked and alone, forced to take drugs...blah blah blah. It sounds silly even as I write it. Sometimes you just have to tell that voice to SHUT THE HELL UP!!!

A short note on studying abroad, if I may, and then I am going to bed. I cannot pinpoint exactly why this has been so obvious a decision for me. In sooth, I have been saving since high school, and secretly planning since long before then. My grandma compares it to the "grand tour" that many European gentlemen would take at the turn of the century before settling down to their jobs as wealthy investors, and for me that is partly true (except for the wealthy landowner part). At this age and stage in my life, I am untethered by work schedules, insurance bills, PTA meetings, etc. I can see Europe on my terms, and guiltlessly blow what little money I have saved on...well...whatever I want. I guess that's one of the perks of STUDYING abroad: it provides justification for such a trip because I am a "student" who is "learning." Ha. I confess that the actual "studying" bit of this whole gig is furthest from my mind. I am looking to experience, life, and feel, and if I have to write a few papers in there to seal the deal, then so be it.

Gas in Miami is $4.09. Looks like I'm movin to Miami.