Bitter Sweet

So I left Granada yesterday. I couldn't help but shed a tear or two as I tried to say goodbye to the kids. They didn't really understand that we weren't going to see each other again for a really long time, if at all. That is better for them, probably, but worse for me. I only managed to get a hug out of Fransisco, and because I was crying, my host mom was crying too. She gave me a big hug and then I walked out of the door, unable to cox a hug out of the other two. Right as I shut the door Antonio started screaming because he didn't get to say goodbye and give me besito, so I had to open the door again.

I remember on the plane that left Minnesota, I was a little upset and at the point of tears, because I was leaving my state. I didn't cry because I knew I would be back. As much as I assure myself that I will come back to Spain and Granada, I can't really be sure, and if I do, I know it won't be the same. I did cry when the bus pulled out of the bus station, and then the city of Granada, much to the dismay of the rather good looking guy sitting next to me, I am sure. He didn't do anything to comfort me, I resented him (kidding), got myself under control and we had a plesant but silent 5 hour journey to Madrid.

So there you go. I am beginning my voyage home! My unwillingness to leave here is by far overshadowed by my enthusiasm to see you all and a longing to be home again.

The Alhambra

So, this Saturday I finally made it to the one site that everyone who comes to Granada goes to: The Alhambra.

I know, I know, I have been here almost five months, and I didn't make it there until the last weekend I was here?!? Yeah. But I feel wierd doing tourist stuff in the city that I live in. Like how I didn't go up in Herman the german until after I graduated High School. But you can all breath easier now, because I did get it done...eventually.

So anyway.

La Alhambra is the Moorish castel from the 1300s. In 1492 the Catholic Kings came in from the mountains and kicked the Moors out, claiming Granada as part of a united Spain. It was a pretty big deal.

The castel is deffinately the most famous thing about Andalucia (the south of Spain), and is pretty famous through out the rest of Spain as well. It is beautiful, with all its Islamic artistry, plus I was lucky enough to be there when everything in the gardens full bloom. I have never seen roses in so many colors, or so big. Seriously, they were bigger than softballs.

Saturday also officially marked the begining of the end of my time in Granada. I leave for Madrid on Saturday, and will be traveling around a bit before I see you all in about two weeks!

Bordeaux, France

I spent a pleasant weekend in the south of France, spending time with a friend who is studying there. Bordeaux is a cute city with not much to do, but it is very French. I barely heard any English the whole time I was there (as opposed to in Granada, where I can't seem to escape English).

Thursday night, I got in late, and missed the time slot I was supposed to meet my friend. When I got to the location (which I think actually I got wrong, too) she was no where in sight. I had her address and phone number, and I was just sort of wandering around looking for a pay phone or a taxi. I had my head phones on, and I like to think I didn't look lost, because I had no destination in particular, and in fact, I was headed toward the Cathedral, where it looked more populated, increasing my chances of finding above mentioned items. I walked past a French couple, minding my own business, but I heard them say something. I turned back, not wanting to be impolite in case they were talking to me, and it turns out they were. Great, I thought to myself, this should be good. I knew how to count to ten in French, but I didn't think that would be very helpful in a conversation. The women asked me something in French. I stared at them, helplessly. The man (in French, I understood enough of what he said to get the gist)asked me if I speak French. I said no, I speak Spanish. It turned out the women spoke Spanish too, so that worked out well. I'm not exactly sure why they stopped me in the first place, but once they figuered out I was meeting my friend, and was just looking for a cab, the women offered me the use of her phone, I talked to my friend, she talked to my friend, and then I ended up following them a few blocks until we met up with her. So, my frist experience with French people, not at all stereotypically rude.

Once I found my friend, we enjoyed a quite dinner in a real French resturant, which was cool. I had a first coarse of clams (amazing), a second coarse of some wierd chicken thing that wasn't as good, and a traditional French dessert of creme brule. Good times.

Friday my friend had class, so I basically wandered around the city. I learned how to say "I don't speak French" (in French) which I used several times that day, and no one looked at me dirty. In the early afternoon I happened across a large outdoor antique market. I bet I wandered around there for 2 hours, looking in all the little stands for hundred year old copies of French classics and rock records from the 60s and 70s. I was unsuccessfull on both accounts. Something I found entertaining wandering during the lunch hour: the owners of the stands would throw a table cloth over an antique table that was probably for sale, and enjoy a real sit down meal, family style, complete with at least one bottle of wine.

Friday night my friends roommate and her roommate's boyfriend made us real Chinese food. It was delicious. And now I can say I have eaten pig's heart.

Saturday we did some more city exploring, taking pictures and just enjoying French culture. We cooked some Italian food for her roomates that night.

Sunday morning we headed out early (like 10:30!) to take a walk through the weekly outdoor market, where they sell everything from seafood to fruit to pastries. In the evening we enjoyed a meal at a Thai resturant, and then walked down to the river to get good night pictures. As luck would have it, we were in time to see, just off to our right over a bridge, a well choreographed fireworks show (set to music we were just barely close enough to hear), worthy of the 4th of July. As we watched, we glanced of to our left and were able to witness a wonderous lightning storm. We barely managed to make it back to the house before the storm reached the city, shaking to window panes with thunderous blasts and pounding the roof with rain.

I realized that every preconception I had about France and the French people comes from the Victor Hugo novel Les Misérables. Most of these preconceptions focused on architecture and political activism, and I was not disappointed by either in Bordeaux. The buildings seem to come straight out of the novel, and as I walked past cafés with classy Frech students leaning casually back in their seats, smoking their cigarettes, it was easy to imagine them a century earlier, planning a revolt in the streets of Paris. My friend assured me that there aren't very many armed revolts these days, but it is easy to see that the people are still very active.

I headed out early on Monday, spent over 14 hours traveling, and made it back to Granada in time to play with the kids for an hour before bed time. Then I spent the couple hours before my bedtime mentally preparing for finals. Today was my last official day of class!

Monachil and stuff

First off, I'm sorry it has been a while since I have posted anything, and I give all of you permission to assume that means my life has been incredible exiting, leaving me no time to fill you all in. Unfortunately, if you assume that, you will be incorrect. The truth is that besides the craziness the past few weeks with my host family, there has been nothing really post-worthy, sorry to disappoint. I have been pretty busy though, mostly with school work. My classmates at Winona finished classes last week, but I still have two more weeks to go before finals start, and they have been anything but fun.

This weekend I did manage to enjoy myself a little bit though. On Sunday I caught the bus to Monachil, a pueblo a few miles outside of Granada in the Sierra Nevada. From there we hiked up, up, up until I thought my legs would fall off*. Once at the top though, the hike and the view were quite pleasant. We descended into a valley, crossed several rope bridges (a little scary, mostly because heights make me uncomfortable), climbed down to some waterfall, and through a cave. There were some parts of the trail so narrow we had to push our backs against the wall with our arms spread and shuffle tentatively, risking a 5(I know, terrifying)foot drop to the raging trickle of a river below and other times when we had to crawl under overhanging rocks on our knees.

The unfortunate thing about the experience is that I got fried by the sun. My shoulders are like tomatoes. I am not bragging when I say it is hot here, I am complaining. It is hot! Today it was over 20C (about 70F)when I walked to school and that was at 9 in the morning. It only gets hotter here folks. Really hot. I don't know if you know that in Spain they have this thing siesta, which means nap. It happens right after lunch, around 2 until anytime from 4 to 6, and many shops and services close down during that time. It is inconvenient, to say the least, but the reason they do it is because during the summer months (like April through August) it gets unbearably hot during those hours so everyone just stays in their houses. It is funny though, because here they will complain about how cold it is in the winter, when it barely drops below freezing at night. Go ahead, shake your heads. They don't know what cold is here.


*not really

Segovia

So, I was in Segovia this last weekend, and it was definately an experience. There are only three big things to really see there, and I only got to two of them (sorry Kaia), but I had a great time anyway.

We got in on Friday, and walked around a bit through the small streets that reminded me of something out of Germany, very quaint, cute, with the trim on the outside of the houses. We saw the Cathedral from the bottom of a hill and climbed our way to it, then toured it, which was nice and quite. Of course we saw the aqueducts, which are a little hard to miss. That night we got to were we stayed, and met some great people (the reason we didn't get to the Alcazar). We met a guy and girl from Brazil, and a guy from Slovacia (I think). We hung out with them and some of their friends from Segovia on Friday night, casually mentioning that we missed good Mexican food.

On Saturday we went to El Escorial, a gloomy palace, about a half hour from Segovia, if you drive. We didn't have the oppourtunity to drive though, so it took us like 2 hours to get there and 2 to get back. It was fun to see, and the city it was in is pretty, but we weren't counting on the time wasted, so we also didn't get to see the Valley of the Fallen (civil war monument) up close, only from a distance. So, Saturday night was also pretty cool. Remember how we mentioned missing Mexican food. The Brazilians knew some people who knew some people, and all of a sudden, we were 10 people in the apartment of a Mexican girl who is studying in Segovia, sharing a real Mexican meal. Mmmmmm. I really missed quacamole. Being with those people was very fun too, here was the make-up: 4 Brazilians (2 guys, a girl), 2 Italians (one of each), a Slovacian, la Mexicana, a guy from "everywhere" he liked to say (really, he had lived in a lot of places) and us 2 Americans. It was very cool because in general, the common language was Spanish, and for the first time, I learned a lot of coloqial phrases that you wouldn't necesarily hear in a coonversation with a teacher or your parents, if you get what I mean.

So that was Segovia. And yes, Kaia, I got to try Chocolate Swiso. I had had it before, but not by that name. It was delicious though. Did you always go to La Colonia or something? That place is cute.

Mi casa

So, I am trying to post a video...it is taking forever. If it loads, it is a tour of my house in Granada...

I forgot to metion the door to the basement which is on the left of the video screen as we walk towards the kitchen. It leads to the garage and a little sitting area they have. I don't go there too often either, but I am there more than I am upstairs. There is a bathroom upstairs that I actually have never been in. So yeah, there you go.