It's been a while. A long while. I realize that this blog is dedicated to a journey that has come and gone, but I had to update it, for today is a monumental occasion!
My childhood best friend, Scott Peck, is back from his 2 year missionary stint in Portugal! Scott was all over the country, and although he sent out a weekly email to us generically, I'm sure there is a lot for him to update me on about his life.
One of the limitations that Scott had while living abroad was that he was basically cut off from communication and media of almost any kind - besides emailing a listserv of people every week and getting to call his family on mother's day and Christmas, Scott hasn't probably heard too much from the real world. That's where I come in - I'm going to attempt to inform Scott of the happenings of our society in the last two years. I probably won't nail everything, but I'll do my best...
Mumford & Sons - So there's this new band out called Mumford & Sons, or "Mumford" for short. They're kind of a blend of rock and bluegrass, with an edgy folk sound to them. They started out as being one of those bands that not very many people knew about, but won a Grammy recently and now everyone thinks they're a musical genius because they listen to them. Nevertheless, they're pretty awesome, and will be sure to catch your ear.
Dubstep - Another big music theme that's come onto the scene in the U.S. lately is this new genre called "dubstep". It's a blend of spazzed out techno and hip-hop. One of the more popular bands in this genre is Skrillex. I would give you a link to a dubstep song, but I don't really feel like wasting your time.
"Hipsters" - So there's this term that people throw around like crazy these days - "hipster". Basically, a hipster is a person who is ahead of the game socially, musically, cinematically, with their fashion, you name it. The stereotypical hipster rides a bicycle everywhere, has a good stash of flannel shirts and thick glasses, wears skinny jeans, knows a lot about coffee, and looks like they haven't showered in a few days. If you are interested in seeing said hipster firsthand, just go to Westport sometime (or just watch "Family Matters" and pay close attention to Steve Urkel). As much as hipsters do exist, people really like to liberally throw around the term - don't be surprised if you are mistaken for a hipster someday soon.
Replacement Refs - The NFL referees were on strike for the beginning of this year's NFL season, and so the NFL got referees from Division 3 to fill in. To put it simply, the replacement refs were awful. See said video below - this cost the Packers the game, and was the last play that we saw the replacement refs officiate.
Steve Jobs and Charlie Sheen - Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, died. Charlie Sheen, well... he's just crazy, and coined the sarcastic tagline "winning!"
Friday - One of the worst and most viewed videos of all-time on YouTube was Rebecca Black's "Friday". Think about what you, Sam, Logan and I used to do, and then put it on a professional level. Not good (but honestly a little catchy)...
That video not good enough? Check out this one from Korean rap sensation Psy, called "Gangnam Style". It came out about 3 months ago and already has over 500 million views, making it on track to be the most viewed YouTube video of all time. If you're not in love after the first 30 seconds, just wait.. I promise it's worth it.
Planking - for a while, social media sites were blowing up with pictures of people laying flat on different things, aka "planking". It seems stupid now, but at the time apparently... no, it was stupid then, too.
Patagonia - It's an outdoors brand. Basically the new and cool version of "The North Face".
KU Basketball - nothing much has changed here - just a few more Big 12 titles and complete domination. Just wanted to reminded you that you were living in the best basketball state in America. I Rock Chalk. I dare you not to get chills and laugh out loud in childish excitement.
Pinterest - although probably not a website that you'll frequent often, pinterest is the one of the newest social networking sites, and a place where mostly artsy and thrifty women go to share recipes, decoration ideas, and inspiration quotes from The Notebook.
Instagram - Instagram is an app for smart phones that essentially turns decently dull pictures into works of art, and is slowly putting professional photographers out of business. Here's one of my instragrammed pictures from studying abroad in Spain:
The Dark Knight Rises - There was a new Batman movie, and it was insane. I volunteer my house (in Olathe or Manhattan, or both) to have a viewing party with you and we can watch it 5 times in a row.
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Alright, Scott. That's all I can think of for now. Hopefully you remembered your Facebook password and are able to access this. Love you so much, bro, and can't wait to see you so soon.
Wow, it's been a while since I've gotten on here and written anything. I'm back in full swing American life right now and working at Kanakuk for the summer as the programs director. I'm loving it, but it's been a ton of work. As programs director, I'm in charge of the nighttime activities for 12 of the 14 days of camp, so it's been a challenge.
I've become pretty good friends with iMovie on my Mac, and made a few videos to try to make the kids (and the counselors) laugh a little bit. Here's a quick glimpse into my life at kamp through a few videos I've made. The first one is an introduction to "Barn 13", which is our nighttime program that we have 5 times every term and that I'm in charge of hosting with my partner, Mickey. The other 3 are just goofy movies where we utilized the craziness of Branson, MO. Enjoy!
It’s 8:28 AM and I’m sitting here in the Sevilla Santa Justa
train station. My hands are shaking, my heart is pounding, my armpits are
sweating, and the man across the aisle from me is wearing his chest hair like a
winter coat. I can’t believe what I’ve done. I’ve been a responsible traveler
for every single trip I’ve made this semester: I’ve always gotten to the buses
on time, made it to the airport with time to spare, and found my way around
each and every public transport system. Maybe I let my guard down. Maybe I’m
getting old. Whatever it is, I screwed up – I woke up at 6:58 this morning,
almost in disbelief. My 5:30 alarm that was supposed to get me up, showered,
and to the bus stop with time to spare for my 7:15 AM flight was set for the
wrong 5:30… 5:30 PM.
After screaming a few cuss words in disbelief, I got up and
scrambled around to try to make the train. I’m normally pretty cool under
pressure, but I couldn’t have been more tied up in a knot. I couldn’t figure
out where to put my toothbrush (just put it anywhere, doofus!). I struggled to
figure out what to do with my room key. I even tried putting on my clean
underwear over my dirty ones. I eventually made it out the door with my
backpack and two very full bags of luggage.
As I hustled to the bus stop, the once-seemingly convenient
location seemed miles away. I would try to run, but after about 30 seconds I
would get fatigued and have to briskly walk instead. When I got to the buses,
some woman tried to insist that I was taking the wrong bus. She was wrong, I
was right. End of that story. It’s
7:06 and I’m on the bus.
Once on the bus, I told the bus driver “muy rapido, por
favor!” I never thought I’d be “that guy” – the profusely sweating American
saying amateur Spanish phrases in desperation. Although the bus map said that
there were only two stops in between my stop and the train station, I think it
stopped five or six times. We hit what seemed like every red light, and I
started to lose hope. We got to the train station at 7:17 AM. My 7:15 train had
already left.
“Remain calm,” I
thought, “you’re resourceful, and you can
figure this out.” I immediately went to the customer service desk and asked
if I could change the time on my ticket. “Of course you can!” they said, and
explained that I just had to pay 20% of the original ticket. Normally, this
would be no problem, but a couple of problems arose. I was very proud of the
fact that I had used practically every euro I owned in Spain, and had literally
1 euro and 70 cents. I could have also used my debit card, but I had done a
pretty good job of clearing that out this semester as well and had almost all
of my money in my savings account. I didn’t have my parents’ emergency credit
card. I had one hundred dollars in American money. I had a whole lot of options
that were nearly all tapped out. What’s worse is that the next train at 7:45 AM
only has first class seats available, which will cost me an extra hundred
bucks. I could exchange my dollars to euros, but I only had 15 minutes until
the next train came and the exchange safe wasn’t open for another 20.
“Okay.” I thought,
“just pay with your debit card and when
you get to Madrid, you can add more money into your checking account from your
savings. Surely my available balance will be alright for two hours.” So I
bit the bullet and decided to try and pay the extra hundred dollars with my
debit card. For some reason it wouldn’t go through – I thought that it was
because I didn’t have enough money. I asked the lady at the customer service
desk if I could quickly borrow her computer to transfer money, but it was a no
go. I then pleaded with her to do something else, that I was a poor college
student just wanting to go home. At this time it was about 7:35 and I was
starting to get a little emotional. She said there was nothing that she could
do – that I missed my train and that they can’t help people in my situation.
This wasn’t my best idea, but I figured it was worth a shot
– I thought maybe I could go down to the train that had the 7:45 departure and
see if there were any extra spots. Maybe another irresponsible college student
missed their train too. So, at 7:43 I ran down to try and catch the train, and
literally watched as it rolled away like I was in some dramatic scene from a
Hollywood movie.
At this point, I was legitimately scared. What was I going
to do? I knew that international flights usually only leave once or twice a
day, and foresaw myself staying another day in Sevilla. I reverted to the point
of practically begging. I approached a woman and tried to explain my situation,
but when you’re asking for over a hundred bucks not too many people are willing
to comply. It was definitely a knock on my pride to ask for money like that.
After asking one woman, I was done with that strategy.
I finally decided that I should try and find some sort of
wifi and bring money from my savings to my checking account and I could use my
debit card to buy a new and more expensive ticket for the 8:45 train that would
get me to Madrid by 11:15 for my 12:30 flight. After asking probably six different
people, someone finally let me use the Internet on their phone and I switched
money in my bank account to have enough to buy a new ticket.
By this time the train station workers and I were becoming
best buds (or worst enemies, depending on how you look at it). I had been back
and forth between the ticket counter and the customer service desk at least 5
times. They knew my situation. I knew the prices. It was go time.
Except there was one problem – even with my card having
enough money on it, the transaction wouldn’t go through. I couldn’t figure out
why this was. The worker was very compliant with me, trying to show me the
computer screen that he was working with. He then perked up and told me to
check out the screen again. He had found one extra seat in the coach class of
the train! It would only cost me 17 euros. I quickly went and received the
euros from the exchange bank, ran back to the ticket kiosk and quite literally
slammed down my 20 euro bill. He was excited. I was excited. Although it was an
hour and a half later than I expected, and cost me a few extra euros/dollars, I
was on my way to Madrid and, hopefully, on my way to Philadelphia.
I hadn’t eaten anything yet, and resisted the urge to spend
my extra 5 euros in case I had some sort of new emergency that arose. By 8:20,
I was sitting at the entrance to my train terminal, ready to promptly board the
train and rest a little before literally running through the Madrid airport. I
met a woman, Carmen, who was a lawyer traveling to Madrid. We had a good 10-minute
conversation before heading to different cars on the train.
It’s now 9:42 AM, and I’m on a very comfortable journey
towards the Spanish capital city. The train boasts that it’s literally always
on time, and plans to arrive at the Madrid train station at 11:15. From there,
I have to take a connecting train about 20 minutes to the airport, where I’ll
pray that I get quick security and check-in lines. If you’re doing the math, I
should have about 50 minutes to get through everything at the airport. So much
for getting there two hours early for an international flight, huh?
Whoever said traveling isn’t fun hasn’t been on enough
adventures. Sure, this isn’t the ideal way to do it, but in less than an hour I
already have more of a story than some people do in a year. For now, I’m going
to try to sit back, relax, and watch this mediocre Tommy Lee Jones movie until
I get to the Madrid train station.
Spain has provided me with a lot of adventures; of course I
wouldn’t expect to leave without a bang.
Well, that went a little differently than I expected it to.
I’ll go ahead and spoil the ending – I’m halfway through my 7 and a half hour
international flight back to Philadelphia, and I couldn’t be happier.
The train ride was both calm and chaotic. I went through all
of my favorite pictures over the last semester and reminisced. I tried to calm
myself and realize that there was nothing that I could do to get the train to
the station any faster than it was already going. I listened to some music by
All Sons & Daughters to help try to calm my nerves, but it was to no avail.
I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to rest until I was on the plane to
Philadelphia.
As I was sitting on the train, I realized why my debit card
hadn’t worked. Originally, I was planning on coming back the 19th of
May when my program ended. Since my parents decided to come visit, I stayed an
extra 3 days. When I notified Visa that I would be using my card abroad, I gave
them the specific dates, and my dates had expired. I didn’t see this as a
problem, however. I had heard that you could go straight from the train station
to the Madrid airport for a small fee and I had a few euros left over from my
first money exchange to buy a new train ticket.
To maximize efficiency, I figured that I would know exactly
where to go to grab the train to the airport before the train had stopped. I
asked the man sitting next to me if he lived in Madrid, and told him that I was
needing to head to the airport. He told me no, that he wasn’t from Madrid, but
said that it was possible to get to the airport via metro. He started writing
out these complicated directions for me. As I saw him do this, I interrupted
and asked him, “isn’t it possible to take a train directly to the airport?” He told
me that such train didn’t exist. He then explained to me that we were in the
southeast part of Madrid and the airport is in the northern part of the city.
He said that the journey from the station to the airport via metro would take
around an hour.
Heartbroken. That’s how I felt. I could have sworn that
there was a train straight to the airport. “Maybe
the man is wrong,” I thought, “after
all, he isn’t from Madrid.”
No matter what was going to happen, I knew that I needed to
get off that train as quickly as possible once it stationed. I pushed my way
through the crowds with very aggressive and unsympathetic heaves with my three
bags. As I was running through the train station, I ran into my new friend,
Carmen, once again. I asked her if she knew where the train to the airport was,
as she had told me earlier that she believed that there was a train directly to
the airport, too. She told me she wasn’t positive – that I should head out the
exit doors and ask someone there. Turns out the first man I talked to was
incorrect in his assumptions, and at 11:22 I headed down to catch the 30 minute
train that would take me right to the airport.
…Except the next train to the airport left at 11:45. I would
get there at 12:15. There was no way that I would get through check-in and
security in 15 minutes in one of the biggest airports in the world.
Still, I didn’t give up hope. The man I talked to on the
train also had mentioned that I could take a taxi. It would cost me around 30
euros, he said, but it could get there in about 25 minutes. I rushed to
exchange the remaining dollars I had into euros, and ran again to the taxi
station. I got a taxi immediately, and told the driver about my situation.
Rafael was his name. He was very optimistic. Said we could make it there in 20
minutes, no problem. We made it there in 15. At this point, I couldn’t help but
smile. Even though I was going through the craziest travel day of my life, I knew
that this would be a memory:
“The time I missed my train.”
“The time I got lucky with a train ticket.”
“The time I had a great cab driver.”
“The time I ran through the streets of Sevilla, two train
stations, and an airport.”
“The time I fought the clock… and won.”
I got to the airport at 11:55 and was greeted with zero
lines at the U.S. Airways baggage check. After a quick scolding from the
attendant, I was told that they couldn’t guarantee that I was going to be able
to board. That I had to run through the airport, and that the gate would close
10 minutes before departure.
I had 18 minutes, and every single one of them was precious.
At this point, I’m running through security, cutting through
lines and taking off my belt and shoes faster than ever before. Sweating
profusely (again). Trying to silently communicate with everyone around me that
I was in an incredible hurry.
Finally, I arrived at the gate, cotton-mouthed and out of
breath. My smile couldn’t have been bigger when I finally boarded the plane,
sweaty and tired.
And so my adventure continues. Kansas City, here I come. Unshowered
and living in dried sweat, I can’t help but think Julie’s going to hate the way
I smell. Especially now that she’s pregnant.
I'm heading out of Sevilla in a few short hours by train to Madrid. From Madrid, I'll head to Philadelphia, and from Philly I'll make my way back to beautiful Kansas City.
There's a saying here in Sevilla - "no me ha dejado" - which means "it hasn't left me". I may be leaving the city, but a part of my heart will always be here in Spain. I've made memories and friends that will last a lifetime, and I couldn't be more thankful for all of the experiences that I've had here. It will never leave me.
Tomorrow I'll sleep in my bed at home, read street signs in English, get free refills at restaurants, and see my beautifully pregnant sister... and I can't wait.
As I wind down my time here, I've been graced with the presence of my mom, dad, and cousin Abby! It really has been the best time these past few days with them (so much so that I don't really want to spend too much time blogging yet!).
We went to the small town of Ronda yesterday, about an hour and a half southeast of Sevilla. To make a long story short - it was a reallyfun time with some really fun people and arguably the best view I've seen this semester.
So I don't know how many of you have seen this preview for a new movie coming out called "The Dictator", but the fictitious country's capitol building is actually Plaza de España in Sevilla! Specifically in seconds 23 and 42 of the trailer. Kind of a cool thing to check out.
I found this website earlier today, and have already looked through it twice. It's not entirely appropriate, but it's almost 100% accurate. Looking through it with my friend Brad today, we could relate to so many of the posts. Check it out if you've ever studied abroad...
Here's a realization I just made: I'm terrible at writing poetry.
It probably runs in the genes - all my dad ever writes are cheesy 4-liners that start out with "roses are red, violets are blue", and I've definitely followed suit in that respect. However, I figured that if I really tried hard that I would be able to write some touching and meaningful poetry to someone who really deserved it.
An hour and a half and a blank page later, and I'm realizing I was wrong. I've got nothing. Zilch. Nada (that's how they say it in Spain). So how do I really express my love and appreciation towards someone?
Mom, I have been absolutely blessed to have you as my mother. There are so many instances I can think of where you loved me and treated me so much better than I ever deserved to be treated. You are hilarious, always thoughtful, caring, have incredible music taste, patient, go the extra mile to see other people smile, an amazing wife, and an incredible mom. I'm so lucky to have someone as awesome as you to show me firsthand what a true woman of God looks like. Thanks for putting in all of the countless hours helping me with applications, passports, visas, and scholarships to make this study abroad experience possible and enjoyable for me. I legitimately couldn't have done it without you! I can't wait to hug you and walk around Spain with you and your stylin' new Chaco's. You are the greatest mother EVER, and I love you so stinkin' much!
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I hope that after reading this,
You'll need a tissue.
You mean so much to me, Momma! Happy mother's day!
Brad.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Yesterday marked a very special day for one of my favorite people in the world. My girlfriend Kathryn turned 22! And, to make matters even better, Kathryn graduated with a degree in Child and Family Studies from Baylor University yesterday! To say I'm a proud boyfriend wouldn't even cover the first inkling of my emotions for her.
Kathryn is a really special person to me who has already given me so many incredible memories. We met two years ago working together at Kanakuk. I remember noticing her for the first time on one of our times off together and thinking to myself "how in the world did you not notice her before?" Kathryn's an absolutely beautiful girl with an incredible heart for Christ, and is such a blast to be around.
I've loved all of our times together so far. From the K-1 slip and slide to the times together at Andy's Ice Cream. Being paired up at parties at kamp to surprising her at parties at school. Going to get Varsity Donuts in Manhattan and eating Vitek's in Waco. Meeting each other's families and celebrating Christmas at Crown Center. Having her visit me in Spain and eating the world's best french fries with Gracia. Riding around the streets of Sevilla on bikes and taking frequent ice cream stops. Talking to her from five thousand miles away until ridiculous times in the morning and not ever thinking twice about it...
Next year Kathryn will move to Kansas City, where she'll be the co-director of Kansas City K-Life and lead hundreds of awesome kids to Christ in a fun and loving way - something that she is so so good at doing. I'm excited to see all of the new memories that we make together.
Hope this isn't too sentimental for you, Kathryn. You're my favorite! :)
I went to Barcelona this past weekend. It was the last trip that I would take in Spain. The last hurrah. The final frontier. The last time I'd have to fly on the tiny RyanAir planes that hurt my knees. The last time I'd check in to a hostel in Europe. The last time I'd have to use my travel-size shampoo bottle.
A little background on Barcelona - it's the biggest and most visited city in the country. Located on the northeastern coast of Spain, it has blown up as a tourist city since hosting the olympics in 1992, and is now the 4th most visited country in Europe behind London, Paris, and Rome. Although it is technically a part of Spain, it feels like a completely different country. They speak the language of Catalan, which is a weird mix of Spanish, French and Italian. The Catalan people are very proud of their culture, and will tell you that they are not Spanish, but Catalonian. Want to know more about the history? Ask me, I don't want to bore you too much...
To be honest, I'm feeling a little tired right now, so this entry is going to be quick. The highlights of the trip...
The Beach.
In the 3 days that we were in Barcelona (we got in late Thursday and left Sunday night), I managed to make it to the beach in Barcelona every day. It was a lovely beach and provided sun and relaxation, but the thing I'll remember most about the beach were all of the people trying to sell me something. People would walk around offering all sorts of things - Asian women were wanting to give you a massage, Arabian men wanting to sell you scarves and beer, other men wanted you to buy their sunglasses, while even more begged you to buy their jewelry.
At first, dealing with these vendors was kind of a fun joke. Most of them only knew how to speak minimal English, so when they asked us to buy a beer I would joke and tell them things like "I only do the hard stuff". When ladies would come around asking to give us a massage I would act confused and wonder if they wanted me to give them a massage, and then I'd explain to them that I had a girlfriend and that I wanted to be faithful to them. My friends ate it up, but eventually I got tired of all the taglines. I wanted to politely acknowledge them, smiling and telling them "no thank you" which translated into them trying to hard sell me even more. Ladies would start rubbing my shoulders, temple, calves, etc. before finally giving up and pursuing someone else. The joke with my friends was that by the end of the day I had received a few free massages.
The Sagrada Familia.
Barcelona's most famous architect is a man named Antoni Gaudi. Gaudi was known for his very distinct and original architecture style in which he appealed to the surreal point of view (think Franklin Lloyd Right for Catalonians). His most famous work is the Sagrada Familia basilica. It began construction in the late 1800's, and is still only 50% finished. We got to tour the basilica and go up near the top of one of the towers. The architecture and detail was completely amazing and very original. To think that it's only half way finished blows my mind.
The Bike Tour.
My friend, Brad, and I decided to go on the Fat Tire Bike tour one day. Fat Tire is the same bike company that I rode with in London, and we got to see some incredible sites and learn all about the history of Barcelona. We saw where Columbus came and presented the Queen with his discovery of the new world, an incredible music hall, the Sagrada Familia again, and much more. If you're ever in Barcelona, London, Berlin or Paris, I strongly recommend taking a tour with Fat Tire.
The Shots Bar.
Okay, so if you know me, you know that I'm a responsible person and don't like to rip shots. However, when in Barcelona, we had to go check out this shots bar that was all the rage. We got there and saw that they offered over 500 different shots, each of them original. I made sure to be moderate about it all, but took a few shots. One of them was called the "Boy Scout", in which they lit the shot on fire and gave you a marshmallow on a stick to roast. You had to eat the marshmallow and then quickly drink the shot. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't tasty.
The Best Sandwich I've Had In A While.
Barcelona is super expensive. The hostels that we stayed in were in great (but very touristy) locations. We were just 7 study abroad students at the end of our reign who were hungry and out of money.
Enter in Bo De B's, a small sandwich restaurant located a few streets off the ocean in Barcelona. It was the cheapest and most delicious meal that we had eaten in a long time. So cheap and delicious, in fact, that we ended up going there 3 times before the trip was all said and done. The process of it all...
Get in line - the ordering process takes a while, so there's always at least a 10 to 15 person line out the door.
Choose your meat - once in the door, choose what type of meat you'd like. The employees don't start cooking it until after it's ordered by you, so you know it's completely fresh. The raw meat was reminiscent of a fondue dinner for my sister's birthday. I chose ternera (steak) every time, and it was absolutely delicious.
Choose your condiments - boasting a Chipotle-esque selection menu, I got 4 different types of sauces and nearly every condiment possible, including corn, lettuce, tomato, peppers, raddishes, and lentils.
Pay - the best part of it all? A delicious footlong sandwich with all the toppings you can imagine was only 3.50 euros in one of the most expensive cities in Europe. Not bad, not bad at all...
The Magic Fountain
We had heard that there was a fountain show in Barcelona, and we were determined to see it. Having pride being from Kansas City, the City of Fountains, I was expecting a lot, and the show definitely didn't disappoint! The fountains were absolutely gorgeous, and their colors were synchronizing beautifully with the fountains and music that would accompany them.
The Park
Gaudi's architecture is not only present at the Sagrada Familia, but all over the city. We went and checked out his architecture at Park Guell, where you can see the two houses that he built and the incredible plazas that he designed as well. I definitely fell in love with Gaudi in Barcelona.
The Market
Right next to our hostel was the Saint Joseph Market. It was a huge outdoor market with hundreds of different stands to browse and peruse at our leisure. My favorite thing that I got there was the natural fruit juices that they offered for a euro. Before the weekend was done, I bought strawberry-coconut, raspberry-banana, and raspberry juices. Too good to be true.
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Overall, my time in Barcelona was great. I loved the city and all of the things I did there. All of that being said, the true beauty of Spain lies within the south, and I was very content coming home to the heart of the Spanish culture in Sevilla.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
I've been in a lot of experiences this semester where I haven't been able to speak the same language as someone, making it really difficult to properly communicate. But one thing, albeit cheesy, that I've discovered this semester is this: a smile transcends languages. Smiles mean the same thing in each language. So smile and be a positive light today.
Touring the Irish countryside with my friends from Malaysia, China, and Spain.
Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.
I realize this song isn't that new, but honestly I didn't like it the first time I heard it. Now it's a current favorite. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a simple bass drum.
Florence + The Machine - "Shake It Out"
The B-Side comes from the Brick Lane Market in London. I'm a fan of bikes.
I recently read in an article on the way home from Tenerife that made me proud to live in Sevilla. The article discussed how many European countries have stereotypes, but that they don't usually live up to them - Londoners don't always drink tea every day at 5 p.m., Parisians don't all wear berets. However, the stereotype of Spain - flamenco dancers, paella, and bullfighting - is clearly evident in Sevilla, which the article referred to as "the ambassador of the Spanish image."
The reason that I had the opportunity to travel this past week was because of our days off of school to celebrate la Feria de Abril. The event in English means "April Fair". Feria is an incredible display of the Spanish culture, and is known nation-wide as the party of the year. Spain's culture is exemplified as women dress up in incredible flamenco dresses, men put on their nicest suits, and everyone parties for what seems like 24 hours a day, 7 days of the week (my roommate came home one night at 5 in the morning, to which my host mom responded, in all seriousness, "you got home so early!"). Sevilla is the crown spot for Feria. Although other cities have celebrations similar to Sevilla's sometime in the summer, Sevilla's is known as the "madre de Feria", meaning that it is the original and greatest feria celebration in all of Spain.
You enter in the fairgrounds through the incredible front gate, known in Spanish as the parador (shown at the top of the post). It is original to the fair every year, and takes nearly 11 months to make. The massive fairgrounds are split within two sections: one half is your traditional fairground. There are probably around 100 rides, games, and even merry-go-rounds with live ponies! There are also food stands where you can buy churros, waffles topped with whipped cream or ice cream (aka gofres), and buñuelos, which are basically just fried balls of goodness.
Churros on the bottom, and buñuelos on the top.
Spain style merry-go-round.
The second half of the fairground is full of casetas, or well-decorated covered tents. Every caseta is decorated intricately, and every one is unique. Some of them have chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, others have hand-painted murals on the walls. Most of the casetas are private and family-owned, passed down from generation to generation. Others are public, but are not quite as elegant. Each caseta has its own unique personality, but it seems as though nearly every single one had a stage for flamenco and live music alongside of it.
Everyone drinks rebujuito, which is a mixture of manzanilla wine and 7-up. Rumor has it that they mix it with 7-up because it is refreshing during the hot days, and manzanilla by itself is a little too much to handle... People eat, drink, dance, and be merry all throughout the week. No one works. No one sleeps. Everyone gets their Spain on.
The week of festivities quite literally ended with a bang, as Feria was capped off with a 4th of July-esque fireworks show on the river that could compete with some of the best in America.
Although I feel as though I have become pretty accustomed to the city and culture, Feria was one of the first times in a while that I felt like a true outsider and tourist. I was in absolute amazement of the dresses, casetas, and most of all, the parador.
I believe that Sevilla is truly the ambassador of the Spanish culture. Experiencing Feria de Abril this past week solidified that belief.
Mount Teide is located in the center of the island of Tenerife in Tenerife National Park. It's the tallest point in Spain, an active volcano, and the main reason that my friend Brad and I recently took a trip to the Canary Islands. I got the idea to climb to the top of Teide after I saw this video for the first time:
When Brad agreed and shared in the excitement of hiking to the top, we booked our tickets and were on our way.
Day 1
To say that we were unprepared for the hike is a decently generous statement. Neither of us came to study abroad expecting to hike the tallest mountain in Spain, so instead of having good hiking shoes and camping bags we brought our tennis shoes and book bags. We bought 7 euro worth of food and water the morning of the trip - some granola bars, bread, chorizo, apples, and corn nuts - surely enough to ration us for a day and a half. I had briefly read a few accounts of people who had hiked the trail before, classifying it as "highly difficult"and warning us against the danger of altitude sickness, as there was little to no emergency aid in the park. Being the ignorant American college students that we are, we figured we could do anything with ease - that the high difficult status was only meant to scare off the 50-somethings with their dogs wanting a nice afternoon stroll through the park - and for a while, that seemed the case.
The beginning of the hike was very easy. We took a bus through some of the windy mountain roads and arrived at the base of the trail around 10:00 in the morning. Although we were high above the clouds and the altitude and sun were having their way with us, the trail was wide, decently flat, and giving us incredible views. We were rationing out the 2 liters of water that we both had brought, enjoying each other's company and taking plenty of stops along the way to rest. It was almost a bittersweet let-down, like we weren't even going to be challenged at all, like all of those warnings about the trail being difficult were just flukes and that we weren't going to even really hike at all. Then came the real hiking part.
Being an active volcano (that hasn't erupted since 1909, don't worry), the remnants of lava were everywhere. We finally approached what looked like the legitimate hiking trail. Brad described it as the part of the hike "where the rubber met the road", and there were rocks galore to maneuver and strategically move about. The steep grade combined with the increasing altitude and loose rocks made for a real challenge, something that we had hoped to both encounter and avoid the whole day.
We finally approached the place where we would stay for the night - a refuge made specifically for people hiking to the top of the mountain. It wasn't anything special: space for 65 people to sleep, restrooms, and a kitchen. For conservation reasons, you normally have to obtain a permit to hike to the top of the mountain, but since we were staying at the refuge we could go up to the top without one. I'm confident that Brad and I were the only people at the refuge that spoke native English, and maybe two of 7 or 8 that spoke any Spanish, so our conversations for the night were limited.
A few views from our refuge before the sunset.
Shadow of the peak on the clouds.
I went to bed around 9:00 that night to the sounds of rhythmic snoring and the deep breaths of people accommodating themselves to the high Canary Island altitude. I knew that the morning would be unlike anything I'd ever done before.
Day 2
The first image that I saw as I awoke at 5 am was a French man crawling out of bed in his tighty whities. Woof. About 5 minutes later, Brad and I were on the trail heading up to the top of the mountain.
The view of the stars was incredible. Because we were so high above the clouds and light pollution was practically nonexistent, you could see each and every star with brilliant clarity. It was hard to look too long at the stars, though, as we had a trail to hike and inadequate tools to do it with. It seemed like everyone and their grandmothers had brought headlamps. Brad brought a freebie flashlight that didn't work, and all I had was my iPhone flashlight app. After hiking for about 20 minutes, we could already feel the altitude getting to us - headaches, dizziness, and shortness of breath woke me up quicker than the Frenchman showing me his croissants. We stopped for a rest, and saw a couple of people with headlamps coming up the trail behind us.
When the couple got closer, we asked if we could we could walk with them. We ended up going the rest of the way with them. Brad would trail from their lights and I continued to use my iPhone flashlight to give him light from the back. The trail seemed to get harder and harder, steeper and steeper. There were a couple of times when we got to places that we thought were the peak only to be sorely disappointed and realize that we had to continue to walk further. The sun was starting to give the sky a hint of color, and we finally saw the silhouette of what was undoubtedly the peak of Teide. The last leg of the trek was probably the most difficult on paper, but because of the realization that we were so close it seemed like a breeze.
As we approached the top, more evidence of the volcanic personality of Teide came out - we had to be careful that the rocks we touched weren't hotspots, and the sulfuric smell in the air made me think someone was hard boiling a few eggs to dye for Easter.
Both profusely sweating and freezing cold, we finally reached the top at 7:00 am, and at 7:15 the sun rose above the clouds to make one of the most beautiful paintings of planet earth that I had ever seen. There were moments when I would just sit there and take it all in, and moments where I would take what felt like a hundred pictures a minute. The view of the sky was so powerful, so glorious, that it made it completely obvious and undeniable that my God is the maker of the universe and completely sovereign over His creation in every way.
Shadow of the peak on the other side of the clouds.
Using a hot spot to warm our hands.
Hiking Brads.
We began our descent around 8:45, and made it to the bottom of the trail around 11:30. We felt accomplished, tired, and ready to eat. Two hitch hikes and a 25 euro bus ride later, and we were home.
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I absolutely loved my time hiking this mountain. It was a once in a lifetime experience for me, something I definitely didn't think I would do this semester, and one of my favorite memories so far.
