A Bear in Córdoba: 2008

23.12.08

Pre-Christmas in Paris

Have you ever walked into a room and instantly felt underdressed? As in that sinking feeling that oh god, everyone else here is dressed several zeroes more expensively than me and that person just gave me the once-over and I'm definitely coming up short and I'm going to be stuck in this place for a while with no means of escape and oh god, so. awkward. ...? Imagine, if you will, rolling out of your first bed in 48 hours (not counting bumpy overnight buses and benches in museums), pulling on the clothes that you've already been traveling in for several days, doing --something-- to your hair without a mirror in sight, and then heading out to door to see what you can of Paris at Christmastime.

You wander over to the center part of town, gawk at the Opera house and smile at the throngs of children crowded around the moving window displays. You stop to pet a homeless guy's dog, and maybe even buy a dozen chestnuts or so. You feel rather at peace with the world and suffused with the Christmas spirit (whatever that means), and wander into the large and sparkly department store to see what all the touristy fuss is about. You wait in line to have your bag inspected, next to the impatient children and the women already digging out their Christmas gift lists. You head to the elevator to check out the view from the top floor, which you've heard is pretty spectacular on a clear day. The elevator opens ... and you realize that every impeccably coifed and styled person in it has turned to stare at your distinctly plain clothes.

You suddenly feel very, very much like an impoverished country mouse.

At least the view from the top was pretty damn fantastic.

(I'm dropping off the internet for ten days or so, to spend the holidays with family on a ranch somewhere in Brittany. Expect updates to resume after the 2nd, and in the meantime - happy whatever-holiday-you-celebrate, and have a wonderful, safe, and warm 2009!)

21.12.08

Rest in peace, Double Tenth.

You were the best puppy a little girl could ask for.

20.12.08

Adventures off the bottom of the map

Today's post title is stolen from M, fellow traveler extraordinaire who won my everlasting admiration for trekking through northern Spain with me while pulling her own weight and battling a nasty head cold. We parted ways at Madrid's Atocha train station on the 22nd, she to Malaga and I to Paris.

Oh, god, Bilbao was so much walking. Entirely too much walking and standing still and walking some more. The youth hostel is in the suburbs on the southwestern end of town, and the Guggenheim is on the northwestern end. So. Much. Walking and getting lost and walking some more ... and it didn't help that we started out on the southern edge of the map, then took a wrong turn (damn highway construction!) and fell off the map for a while. Whoops.

We did eventually make it to the Guggenheim though, and seriously, this place is mind-bogglingly (or bloggingly? heh) awesome. We spent a total of about six hours wandering in and around the museum, taking in all the installation pieces and admiring Frank Gehry´s architectural genius. Although the building is mostly made of limestone, titanium, and glass, inside I felt lightness and movement rather than heavy industrial building materials.

There was a special exhibit on Cy Twombly and his work at various stages of his life, which showed the influence of different artistic trends on his style. I really liked his latest Pop Art-inspired pieces, big red flowers on a bright yellow field. There was also a selection of items from the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, organized by Portraits, Landscapes, Coins/Medals, the Nude, etc. I can't wait to visit the KHM itself, later this trip!

Lunch was sitting outside on the museum terrace and dodging bemused waiter´s glances. Baguette, carrots, chorizo, clementines, and taking pictures for other tourists. A group of children on a field trip stopped by the terrace to get out of the rain while their chaperones negotiated tickets downstairs.

The festival the next day was delicious, and so much fun! There were far more people than I thought lived in Bilbao, and the women and children all dressed up in traditional clothes. Of course, this being Spain there were also living statues performing, including this cowboy who was spray-painted silver all over. He had a really good act going on and interacted with his audience using whirrs and clicks and whistles, and had candy for the children who were brave enough to go near and give him money.

The smells of grilled meat and roasted chestnuts was pervasive, and oh so enticing. Lamb in tortilla is seriously tasty, and I really want to try murcillo (blood sausage) someday. We sat on a bench in the middle of the fair to eat lunch, and all around us were people eating, chatting, and (in typical Spanish fashion) boozing it up at 2pm. (The food stalls cut a channel into the corks of the wine bottles to making pouring easier for their customers.) We happened to be next to a foursome of loud and tipsy women, who liked the fair so much they started singing and dancing sevillanas. This was only slightly hampered by the half-eaten tortillas in their hands, which they ended up waving around like fans ... I love Spain.

We spent most of the day at the fair, poking around the craft booths hosted by local artisans and sampling award-winning cheeses. There's a turrón shop in the old part of town that's been in existence since the 1800's, that sells excellent turrón and marzipan candies - their marzipan puppies are almost too cute to eat! I also tried pastel vasco for the first time, and good lord it is tasty. It has a cookie-like outer covering, and the inside tastes kind of like vanilla pudding but the texture is a bit firmer. Delicious!

This is Basque country though, and the festival was a celebration of entirely un-Spanish identity. So considering the steadily rising BAC of the general populace, perhaps it wasn't surprising that the fair went BOOM periodically. We never could figure out where it came from, but my guess was that readily available alcohol + (also readily available) cigarette lighters = charred and gently smoking garbage bins.

The next day we headed to Portugalete and Getxo, two small, lovely towns separated by the Nervión River in the suburbs of Bilbao. Their main claim on the guidebooks is the Vizcaya commuter bridge, which was the first of its kind at the end of the 19th century and costs five euros to walk across but 0.30 cents to ride the ferry (wtf?!). The architect was a disciple of Gustav Eiffel, and you can really see the influence of the Tower on the bridge. While looking for the tourist information booth, we stumbled onto the Sunday afternoon promenade crowd along the beach, with grannies and prams in tow. The Spanish (or is it European?) penchant for dressing their offspring in identical outfits is ridiculously cute, and gave an early 20th century air to the whole afternoon.

My host mother in Cordoba had likened going to Bilbao to visiting a different country, and after those three too-short days I have to agree. The architecture of the old town is more reminiscent of Swiss townhouses than the traditional Spanish houses with central patios, and the feeling of the city is different from any other Spanish city I've been in. Also, the near-constant rain coats everything in GREEN, the only other place I've seen that much green is in Ireland. We were lucky though - in our three days we caught the first two days of sunshine they'd had in two months!

19.12.08

Arrival in Bilbao

Woke up this morning before the sun, in an enormous bed in a hotel in Madrid. After taking the bus to the airport with the rest of the program, M and I took the subway from the airport back into the city. And then we walked around Madrid for *hours* trying to find the damn bus station that ran buses to the north of Spain. We ended up at the bus station on the entirely wrong end of town, and nearly ended up going to Valencia (of the tasty oranges) rather than Bilbao (of the Guggenheim museum).

So a five hour bus ride later, we've gotten to Bilbao and settled into the hostel. M and I have a quite nice six-person room to the two of us, since it's definitely off-season for this part of the country. I jumped at the chance to wash all my clothes so there's a little tent city going on in the room right now.

I'm very glad M's on this leg of the trip with me, since she's an extra pair of eyes to look for signs and other important things, and keeps me from having to sit next to sketchy people on buses and such. She also saves food money the same way I do, by buying from a supermarket rather than a restaurant. For dinner we bought 6.10 euros worth of food for the two of us and that was more than enough. She also introduced me to chorizo, which is this kind of long, skinny sausage-ish tube of pepperoni-like cured ham. It is salty and fatty and deliciousness incarnate (no pun intended ;)

However, the hostel being nice and clean doesn't mean that the clientele isn't slightly sketchy. I *think* I got hit on earlier tonight while I was writing postcards, but I'm still not entirely sure. I was writing on a table in the empty dining room, and a guy came over from a birthday party in the other room. He sat down and introduced himself as Luis from Chile, hospitality student here to study as a chef. We talked a bit about Spain and where we each came from, then he asked me what floor I was staying on. I didn't want to tell him where I was sleeping, so I picked a random floor and said the fifth. Turns out that's his floor and he immediately asked me which room I was in ... awwwwkward. >_>;;;;; Later he came back and complimented me on my smile and asked me if I liked to dance ... *sigh* if it hadn't been 2:30 in the morning and I hadn't been ready to keel over from exhaustion, I might actually have taken him up on that. Maybe.

Tomorrow we're going to the Guggenheim museum, and probably doing somemore wandering around the city. The 20th there's a big traditional celebration of some sort, historically it was the day the tenant peasants would pay their landlords. These days it's more of a gathering of food, beer and artisan crafty things. And then we're taking the midnight bus back to Madrid to save on a night of board ... 13ish euros a night is fairly cheap, but it still adds up!

The End of the Beginning

Classes ended on the 11th, and finals started immediately after. These past few weeks have been a whirlwind of final exams, projects, presentations, and packing. I'm most proud of my photography project and presentation, but I really enjoyed all four of my classes this semester. Roman history especially gave me a very solid base from which to learn about Cordoba, Spain, and Europe in general, and Archaeology taught me to appreciate the material culture of the past.

While the material is still fresh in my mind, this January I'm going to travel around southwestern Europe and use my photography skilllz on whatever Roman ruins I come across. Between now and February 17th (beginning of next semester's classes), I'm planning on visiting five countries and about 20 cities:

December:
17 Madrid
18 Bilbao
22 Paris (France)
24 Brittany

January:
01 Paris
07 Rome (Italy)
10 Florence
14 Milan
15 Vienna (Austria)
18 Salzburg
20 Zurich (Switzerland)
24 Malaga (Spain)
...
Wandering around southern Spain for several weeks ...
...

February:
15 Cordoba

While I'm wandering though, internet is probably going to be spotty at best and updates might not have many pictures. I can promise lots of good stories though!

Also, if any of you have any suggestions as to what to do in any of these cities, please comment or email them to: abearincordoba "at" gmail "dot" com. Thanks! :D

18.12.08

Medina Al-Zahra

Two Fridays ago our program organized a small excursion to Medina Al-Zahra, the 12th-century (?) palace and political/economic center of Al-Andaluz (Andalusia today). Again, apologies for the links!

The palace was built into the side of the hill, for defence and cooling reasons.
http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684207_9455.jpg

Another view out into the fields - you can see the early morning mist hasn't dissipated yet.
http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684201_7488.jpg

Restoration work of the Salón de Ricos, thought to be a reception hall for foreign dignitaries and other Important People.
http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684204_8469.jpg

Restoration in progress
http://photos-f.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684205_8795.jpg
http://photos-g.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684206_9120.jpg

One last look...
http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1794/32/14/2104379/n2104379_31684203_8140.jpg

Sevilla, Milano, and Torino

26.11.08

Photography project

I've been working on my photography project these past few weeks, and the results are on Flickr ("Opposites" set). I've always wanted to learn how to take advantage of my camera's features and not just use the "auto" setting, so this project gave me a chance to do just that. Now I need feedback on the pictures so I can improve composition, etc, so if you have a spare moment please click over and have a look! Thanks ^_^;

The "Sculpture" set is the second part of my project, we had to pick a work of art and document it with pictures. The other set, "Sketches", are what I draw when I seem to be paying attention in class - judging by the cropped-off notes, I doodle the most in Roman history. >_>;;

15.11.08

I'm (not) offended!

As an American college student, there are two words that are integral to almost any conversation with my friends: "awkward" and "sketchy". I'm referring to these as defined by Urban Dictionary, since the definitions there are far more relevant (and informal) than those in any self-respecting OED. "Awkward" is fairly self-explanatory, referring to a socially embarrassing or uncomfortable situation. (As someone who's still getting the hang of the "social graces" part of Growing Up, this happens more often than you'd think.) "Sketchy" is more complicated - "something that doesn't feel right", "something unsafe", "iffy, questionable", "creepy", and "shady" are just some of the definitions given - but I've yet to come across a coherent description of the all the uncomfortable and well, awkward nuances that the word conveys.

One thing that has always bothered me about the Spanish language, however, is that there is no direct translation for either of these words. The closest I've gotten to "awkward" is incómodo (uncomfortable), or socialmente torpe (socially clumsy), both of which capture some but not enough of the original meaning. "Sketchy" is even more difficult to translate, and I'm not sure cuestionable is even a real word. "Creepy" is equivalent to espeluznante (hair-raising, literally), which again, doesn't do justice to the original meaning. So, why doesn't Spanish have a translation for these versatile, descriptive, and highly useful adjectives?

After discussing the matter with K and M, I have come to the conclusion that it probably has a lot to do with the Spanish culture, not just the Spanish language. Spaniards in general are much more open about their feelings, and have much smaller personal boundaries. They're also less afraid of offending other people, and less easily offended. Therefore, awkward situations just don't come up as often, and if they do then Spaniards are more likely to point it out and resolve it on the spot, rather than stay quiet and try to be diplomatic and politically correct. The same goes for "sketchy" situations, for example if Stranger A asked for an American's number in a bar, the American would likely reply with an awkward "um, ah ... I don't have a cell phone/[other transparent excuse]", and later tell stories of the sketchy Stranger who asked for his/her phone number. A Spaniard's reaction would probably just be "no, I don't know you", and that would be that.

This frankness is also reflected in the Spanish media. Since there is essentially no censorship or regulations about what can or cannot be shown on TV or published, anything goes. For example, yesterday's lunchtime news wrapped up with a segment on the "World's Best Bottoms Award" in Paris, with footage of the bikini-clad models walking down the runway in the competition. (Keep in mind this is a national TV station, broadcasting during the prime lunchtime hour.) I found it hilarious and frankly refreshing, but my flatmate E is now even more convinced that the US is superior to Spain. Ah, well.

12.11.08

Wah!

Today was V's birthday, so we all went out for mediocre Chinese food to celebrate. I've missed Chinese food more than I can say; it was good to get my fill of MSG and fried bad-for-you food. The buffet had a decent selection of salads and marginally healthier things too, don't worry, I'm not keeling over any time soon. The oddest part was the dessert section, where there was a large bowl filled with ... colored marshmallows. I'm still not entirely sure why, but that didn't stop me from loading up on the gummy bears and the ice cream. Now to find an Asian market and satisfy those mochi cravings ...

After dinner, V took us to see a rope jungle gym that she and K had discovered earlier that week. This turned into a two-hour-long session of rope climbing, picture taking, general tomfoolery , and pretending that we were all of about ten years old, all of which felt fantastic. The night was chilly and silent, with occasional wisps of clouds lighting a feathery halo around the nearly full moon. Our laughter easily carried through the night, irrepressibly bubbling up at any inane, yet inexplicably hilarious comment. We had cake and playground games - Wah!, telephone, ZipZapZop, Boppity Boppity Bop - and laughed until our sides hurt, then laughed some more.

--

I really do need to figure out how to describe Wah! to unsuspecting bystanders. My half-assed explanation left us playing somewhere between a two-beat and a three-beat game of Wah!, I can only hope to teach everyone the proper rules and rhythm (like so). Here is a detailed (and coherent!) description of Wah!, courtesy of sk8ngli on the xkcd fora:

Everyone stands in a circle. One person will start by raising their arms above their head with their hands clasped. They will point at another person in the circle while yelling Wah!. The person pointed at will then raise their arms and yell Wah!. The two people immediately to their left and right will then chop sideways and yell Wah!... I was taught to think of it as chopping down a tree. You yell Wah! with your hands going up (becoming a tree) and the people to your sides will chop you down by yelling Wah!. After being chopped down, you have to send your Wah! to someone else in the circle. Thus the game repeats in rhythms of three Wah!'s.

--

V turned 21 today. I suppose this is where I'm supposed to muse on being 20, no longer a teenager and soon heading out into the Real World. But the fact is, I don't feel like an adult, I don't feel capable of handling Life as a college graduate, and the thought of no longer being able to laugh like a ten-year-old kid while climbing around on a jungle gym fucking terrifies me. I've spent a good 7/10ths of my time on Earth so far as a student, completely sheltered from reality. In less than two years I'm going to be kicked out of academia (good riddance) and set out to Find My Path, Fulfill My Purpose, Make Enough Money To Eat and Donate The Rest To My College. And there it'll go - jobs, paycheck, mortgage, loans, retirement funds - and before long I'll be the one complaining about young hoodlums laughing their fool heads off at midnight on the jungle gym when they're clearly old enough to know better. They say that college years are the best years of your life ... I just wish I could save a couple minutes from each day so I could relive them when I'm older.

--

To get a head start on the Growing Up, I'm starting my spring semester apartment search soon. Students who stay the entire year have a choice of staying with our host families, or moving into a student dorm, or finding our own apartment in the city. I'm going to try to stay close to campus (two thirty-minute one-way hikes to Arabic each week is more than enough, thank you!) and out of the way of any sketchiness. I'm probably going to end up sharing an apartment with several other Spanish students, but have my own room and access to the kitchen/laundry/facilities/internet/etc. Hopefully, I'll get them to play Wah!, too ...

4.11.08

Please, for the love of all that is holy ...

!!! STOP READING AND GO VOTE !!!

Seriously, I'll wait. And if you can't vote for whatever reason, get out there and remind someone who can to go cast their vote.

Back already? Okay, then. On with my ramblings ...

So as you know, today's the big day for everyone in the US. My study abroad program is having an election night party at a local bar where the TV will be turned to CNN in English. I have a feeling I'll be glued to the polls and the websites until the last votes are tallied, even if it means staying up all night. I sent in my absentee ballot weeks ago, even though my (presidential) vote isn't likely to matter. I'm more concerned about two propositions on the state ballot: 8, which states that only marriage between a man and a woman is valid in the state; and 4, which prohibits abortions on minors until 48 hours after parental notification. I'm really worried about both of these, because polls have shown that the margins on both these propositions are incredibly slim.

Being outside of the US has really given me a different perspective on the elections and how they impact other countries. Spain (as from discussions with people studying abroad in other countries, most of Europe) is extremely pro-Obama. Most Europeans have become very disappointed in Bush over the past eight years, and consider his policies responsible for the current worldwide economic crisis. They see McCain's election as just a continuation of that, despite all the "maverick" talk. Few people take Sarah Palin's nomination as VP seriously, because she is seen as inexperienced and unqualified for the position. On the other hand, Obama is seen as a welcome change from the last eight years. Spaniards are encouraged by the fact that he seems much more open to working closely with foreign leaders, and that he's more sensitive to the issues that arise from leading a diverse country. His recent Spanish ad directed at the Latino community has been played over and over during news reports, but McCain's campaign (as far as my limited Spanish can tell) hasn't gotten nearly as much coverage.

I'd also like to express my condolences to Obama and his family for the passing of his grandmother. She raised her grandson well; may she rest in peace.

3.11.08

Two months.

As of today, I've been in Spain for two months. Adapting to life here has definitely been one of the most challenging times of my life, but also the most rewarding. I've become much more comfortable with using Spanish in my daily life, and with playing impromptu rounds of Charades when I don't know a certain word. Every day I learn something new about Spain, or at least another vocabulary word. (Today I learned that the word for pomegranate is granada, and the symbol of Granada is the pomegranate - handy! Also that the chains, or cadenas, represent Aragon on the Spanish coat of arms.) The other students in the program are great to hang out with as well; the consortium is made up of six small, northeastern, private, liberal arts colleges so everybody comes from a similar academic background. My classes are going fairly well, although there are several assignments coming up. Arabic class in particular is a lot of fun; the past few classes have all been dry, boring grammar but last class we read self-introduction dialogues and it felt really rewarding to finally put all the grammar to use. Two months is generally the time it takes for me to get really accustomed to a place, so I hope that it'll be smooth sailing from here on out ...

28.10.08

Three kilograms of clementines, or, supporting the Spanish economy.

The interstice between autumn and winter is, without a doubt, my favorite time of year. Maple trees in New England suddenly transform into brilliant, leafy rainbows; mornings dawn crisp, cool, and wispy with fog; bright, sunny afternoons entice the most reclusive computer lab hermits to take a walk around the lake; nighttime breezes with just a hint of chill are the perfect excuse to linger in the company of good friends and good tea. And the best part of it all is the arrival in the produce aisle of tiny, fresh, juicy, golden-orange orbs of pure deliciousness - it's clementine season.

Those of you who know me, are probably aware of my passion for - nay, obsession with - clementines. There's something very satisfying about digging my thumbnail into the rind of a new, unbroken fruit, and carefully peeling open the sphere in half. Each new orange represents a small challenge of manual dexterity, that requires a combination of luck, precision, timing, and carefully applied force to extract the wedges undamaged. Of course, the reward is there no matter how much I botch up the opening - one bite and each vesicle yields up its juicy droplet of sweet-yet-tart clementine. Mmm.

So this weekend I went shopping for clementines, and came home with an enormous three kilogram bag. I've never seen this many clementines at once, apart from the produce section in supermarkets - I wasn't sure that I could even finish all of them! But three days later I've devoured all but two, and I'm already budgeting clementine purchases for the next week. I've been rationalizing it as extra doses of vitamin C to keep from catching everyone else's colds (doesn't seem to have worked, unfortunately) and as a healthier snack than popcorn or Nutella (Nocillo in Spain). I was also told in Japan that eating too many oranges would turn one's hands yellow, but it hasn't happened so far - knock on wood.

Side note - the clementine excursion was the second time I've been propositioned this year. I had intended to buy from a small business as opposed to a supermarket chain, so first I tried a small fruit stand on a side street near my apartment. There was a man sitting on a stool in front of the stand, so I assumed that he was the owner of the store. While I had my back to him and was looking at the fruit and inspecting the prices and the quality, he made a "tsk" noise at me. When I turned around, I realized that he couldn't talk - he had a hole in his trachea. He pointed at the clementines and showed me five fingers, which confused me because the sign clearly said "1,39 euro/kg". But when I turned back to the fruit, he "tsk"ed at me again. This time he showed the five fingers again, and then closed his fist and brought down to his groin, then pointed up the alley away from the main street. That's when I realized that he had been mouthing "minutos" - five minutes. Needless to say, I was incredibly skeeved out and left immediately.

I bought my clementines from the supermarket this time ... but the "Origen: España" sticker on the bag makes me feel slightly better.

22.10.08

Today's post is brought to you by the letter J

I learned the first part of the Arabic alphabet in class today! It's been a long time since I've had to learn a completely different writing system. This'll take some getting used to, especially since Arabic writing goes from right to left. The letters are written a little differently depending on whether they are a single letter (isolated form), or in the beginning, middle, or end of a word. Some letters can only connect to other letters on the right side, so letters that come after have to use the initial or the isolated form. Wikipedia has a chart that does a much better job of explaining it.

One of the letters in the alphabet is pronounced zai and written like so:

ﺯ

Looks a lot like the letter j in the romance language alphabet, doesn't it? Maybe this is stretching it, but I think the pronounciations are pretty similar too. This is why I love learning languages!

19.10.08

Lagos, Portugal

October 10th to 13th was a long weekend, so a big group of us went to a beautiful beach town on the southern tip of Portugal. The trip got off to a fairly bad start, as I missed my train from Córdoba to Sevilla and had to buy another ticket for a later train. I'd also been fighting sniffles all week, resulting in a visit to just about every single pharmacy in Córdoba to look for zinc supplements. Happily, zinc + 2 lemons a day + eight oranges over the weekend = not sick! And the horrible 6-hour bus ride from Sevilla to Lagos turned out to be totally worth it.

The boardwalk on the way to the cliffs:

Gorgeous beaches surrounded by rocks:

Stairs built into/cut out of the cliffs:

Weird, beautiful landscapes:

Rockslides and earthquakes:

A lonely-looking tree at the top of the hill:

A resort/restaurant on the side of the cliffs:

I also went kayaking for the first time:

And nearly got seasick (it's a bad idea to throw up while you're on the boat - better to hop off, throw up, then get back on), but my stomach settled while we stopped at a lovely beach on the way back:

The water was freezing cold, but we still played in the waves:

We stayed at the Monkey House, a hostel located in the historic part of town:

More pictures are available here and here.

We ended up staying one more night than we had planned, because the bus that we had planned to take back to Sevilla was already full by the time we got to the bus station, and the next one left at 6:30 the next morning. Lesson learned - always have a backup mode of transportation.

All in all, it was an incredible trip and I can't wait to go back!

8.10.08

Tour of Spain

Here are pictures from our tour of Spain during the first two weeks of September:

Salamanca, El Escorial, Segovia, and Madrid

Zaragoza and Barcelona

Sevilla

Córdoba

... Whew. I'm going to go through and post the highlights here at some point in the future, but for now this will have to do.

5.10.08

Classes

I'm taking five classes this semester, a decision which usually elicits the "are you crazy?!" response from people who ask. My program's classes started earlier than University classes, so I've already got a pretty good feel for them. Highlights include being shepherded into an unmarked white van with ten other students, driven for half an hour out of the city, and then told to wait outside a dimly lit storage warehouse in the middle of nowhere while the electricity was connected. Turns out we were attending the "practical" portion of archaeology class - we even got to touch a skull that was probably from around the 1100's!

The classes I'm taking this semester are:
Roman Andalusia*
Prehistory of the Iberian Peninsula
Andalusian Archaeology*
History of Photography
Arabic

The classes marked with an * are program classes - that is, they're taught in a more American format with only program students, more discussion, etc. The other classes are mainstream University classes run entirely by the Spanish system, which sometimes means not at all. About thirty Spanish, Erasmus, and programs students showed up to the first Prehistory lecture at 10:30 ... and waited ... and waited ... and waited for the professor to show up! After about an hour, everyone left except us program kids who naively knocked on the prof's office door. He showed us that he didn't actually have class until 11:30, by pointing to the last column on his schedule:

... I really hope he teaches better than he reads schedule charts.

Apertura

Yesterday was the opening ceremony for 2008-2009 classes at my university. This meant two solid hours of sitting in a pew listening to Powerpoint reports of last year's classes, and a bit of singing from the choir at the beginning and the end. At least there was food - dear god So. Much. Food. The food itself merits its own post at a future time when I remember to bring my camera.

Speaking of cameras, I'm taking a photography class this semester so hopefully the pictures here will have improved by the end of this year. In the meantime, the sky at sunset tonight was so pretty, I *had* to take a picture:

30.9.08

Hello, and welcome!

Hello interwebs, and welcome to my blog! I'm a student in my third year of college in the United States, and this year I'm taking a break by studying abroad in Córdoba, Spain. I'm hoping to document my year here with periodic posts and photos, so keep an eye out!

A Bear in Córdoba