Marruecos

Morocco. Marruecos. مغربي.

I had the opportunity to spend a weekend in this dynamic, diverse, beautiful country and I absolutely loved it. (It was also my first time to Africa!) Three cities – Tangier, Tetouan, Chefchaouen – in three days made for a whirlwind trip. I could easily write pages on my experience there, but I think a photo tour is more effective in this instance. I’m not sure I could do justice to the trip through a blog post, and after all, pictures are worth…well, you get it.

So here’s to couscous, the best tea I’ve had yet, Hamam baths (yep, that happened), henna hands, cats EVERYWHERE, new friends, and the most photogenic country I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.

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(Not sure if you’re aware how long it takes to upload 107 photos to a WordPress slideshow, but trust me when I say it is A. LONG. TIME. Not advisable. Next time: link to the facebook album. Ah well, enjoy!)

Walking Home on La Calle Feria

On my way out the door this morning, Lola reminded me, “Hannah, remember it’s Thursday!” I called back, “I know. I’ll turn my backpack around!” Let me explain…

Every Thursday there’s an outdoor fair on La Calle Feria, which is the main road I take when I walk to class each day. Now, I’ve been to lots of outdoor markets, craft fairs, and every “____fest” you can think of. (Cranfest is a real thing. So is Butter Fest.) So, when I call the spectacle that goes down on La Feria every week a fair, it’s in a very loose sense of the word. If you’re picturing rows of neatly organized and cheerily decorated booths, La Feria may not be for you. If you’ve got the urge to browse piles of old records (yep, vinyl) laid out on blankets, or perhaps purchase the used toaster you never knew you needed, come on down!

Market on La Calle Feria

So, every Thursday La Feria is packed with crowds of people – a perfect setup for pickpockets. Lola’s reminders to flip my backpack around actually make a lot of sense. (However, she also reminds me pretty frequently to not lose my keys or phone… something tells me the girls she’s hosted before me didn’t set the bar too high. Not CIEE girls, obviously.) The junk treasures at the fair are usually just a lot of fun to look at, but a few weeks ago I actually did find something that made me really excited:

Cómo se dice “cha-ching” en español?

Yes, that is the third Harry Potter book (also my favorite) in Spanish! It was the only Harry the man had, and I gleefully took it off his hands for 3€. It’s been hard to find time to read it with all of my other reading for classes, but I’ve gotten about two chapters in and it’s wonderful(ly difficult.)

For the first few weeks I took La Feria to and from classes, I noticed something strange. In the middle of a certain block, there was always someone catcalling the ladies. Now, this isn’t uncommon at all in Spain. Piropos are flirtatious remarks, whistles, catcalls, etc. and are generally ignored by Spanish women. What was weird was the absolute regularity and specific location of these piropos. Did the guy just sit on his balcony all day and whistle at women? Then one day, I discovered the culprit:

Romeo

A parrot! I decided Romeo was an appropriate name for this little guy, and I get a huge kick out of hearing him on my walk every day. He doesn’t just flirt though. He knows cell phone rings, the beeping noise the garbage truck makes when it’s in reverse, and the other day I heard him say “Hola Alejandroooo.” He’s hilarious. I’m going to try to video him some day (at risk of looking crazy standing in the middle of the street filming a bird.)

Needless to say, I never have a boring walk when I take La Calle Feria!

Calle Betis

Lagos, Portugal

One of the best spontaneous decisions I’ve ever made: taking a weekend trip to Lagos, Portugal. There were a few students in our program who had signed up for organized tours to Lagos this past weekend, and then there were about eight of us who just bought bus tickets and hoped we’d find a hostel with open beds. (Which we did. Big shout-out to the Stumble Inn in Lagos, where you will find the nicest Aussies and Kiwis you’ll ever want to meet, along with their cat, Meatball.)

We left at 7:30 AM on Friday (have I mentioned we never have classes on Fridays?) and I slept for most of the six hour bus ride. After we checked in to the hostel, we headed straight for the beach and stayed there for the rest of the day. We napped on the beach for a little while, played in the Atlantic, and hit a volleyball around. I think I said more than once, “This is kind of a perfect day.” The nightlife in Lagos was fun, and since the town is full of tourists, students and expats, I could speak English everywhere. My brain appreciated the break. I did learn a few Portuguese words over the weekend: bom dia – good morning, obrigado – thank you, praia – beach, cerveja – beer.

My favorite restaurant in the whole town was called Café Odeon, and it served a ridiculously good, cheap breakfast all day long. The syrup for the pancakes was imported from the U. S., and everybody was really excited about this fact. I think we ate at Odeon four times in one weekend, that’s how good it was. I also had some good seafood and I finally got to try paella, which I somehow hadn’t had yet in Spain.

On Saturday, we went back to the beach again but it was a little bit chillier and the waves were HUGE, so swimming was tricky. After lunch my friend Bess and I wanted to hike along the cliffs on the shoreline. The entire hike was supposed to take around two hours, and there was a company in town that would take you on a guided tour for €20. We decided to save our money and go on our own, and we saw some amazing scenery. (I’ve included a video from our hike – complete with commentary – for your viewing pleasure.)

Leaving on Sunday was really hard and our whole group was sad to go. The bus ride back was very quiet. So, I had to say tchau to Portugal, but I’ll be back in December for the Lisbon 1/2 marathon that I finally decided to sign up for. Let the training commence…

Plaza near the beach

Our adorable hostel

So many options!

Praia

Hiking (okay, sitting down by) the coast.

Atlantic Ocean

Corrida de Toros

I went to a bullfight last weekend. I didn’t know what to expect, but I figured I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to experience such an authentic piece of Spanish culture. And it was actually really amazing!

We’d walked by the Plaza de Toros de Maestranza countless times – it’s enormous, yellow, and right by the river. It’s also one of the oldest bullrings in Spain, dating back to 1758. When we went to buy tickets, the man selling them told us we were lucky because this was the last weekend of the fighting season. (It runs from April to late September or early October.) It’s usually really sunny and Lola warned me about wearing sunscreen, but the night we went the weather was perfect: cool (read: less than 85º) and breezy.

The ring itself was oval-shaped and smaller than it looks from the outside. Our tickets had assigned seats, but on less crowded nights you can sit wherever there aren’t people, so our group found an empty section that was still pretty close to the action. We also happened to be right next to the Puerta Principal, the main door where all the matadors enter the ring. Next to us were all these guys wearing “press passes” and 1′ zoom lenses trying to get close-ups of the matadors. Some of the matadors were so young! Lola told me in Spain they have to be at least 18, but in some other countries they can be as young as 13 or 14. They all entered the ring in a procession, accompanied by music from the live band and wild applause from the crowd.

Sevillanos are passionate about bullfighting. Like professional athletes, some matadors are almost celebrities and they each have a unique fighting style. There are three matadors every fight (each one fights two bulls) along with picadores on horseback andbanderilleros or “flagmen.” There are different acts in each fight, and the intensity mounts until the final matador faces each bull solo. If the crowd really likes how the matador performed, they’ll cheer and wave handkerchiefs and then they cut off the toro’s ears and the matador gets to keep them. Uh, congratulations? (There are a lot of details and nuances that I still don’t understand, but if you want more info go here.)

Now: pictures and even some VIDEO. (It’s okay, you can be impressed. Even got that baby centered.)

Where the matadors enter the ring.

Underneath the blankets, the horses are wearing actual armor.

Excited for my first bullfight!

The matadors’ outfits are called “suits of lights.”

Finding My Way Around

The time is flying by here in Sevilla! This week has been full and fun; I’ll try to cover the high points.

I’m finally feeling more comfortable, and am settling into a bit of a routine. One thing that’s really helping is I’ve started running along the Guadalquivir River at 8 or 9 every night. (With friends – don’t worry, Mom.) There’s a great feeling of community along the river around sunset as everyone is out walking, running and biking. Oh, and rollerblading. Rollerblading is big here. There are even roller-posses that do crazy stunts off rails and down stairs. Running consistently again feels good, and I’m thinking about training for the Lisbon, Portugal 1/2 Marathon in December. I’ll keep you updated on how that goes.

Last Saturday my program took a day trip to visit Córdoba, a beautiful and historic city about two hours north-east by bus. We toured the Mezquita (a huge cathedral) and the Alcázar de los Reyes (a Moorish-turned-Christian fortress.) Córdoba is also famous for its flower festival that normally happens the second week in May: El Festival de los Patios Cordobeses. Throughout the whole year, people in Cordoba will prep their private patio gardens and then open them for a single week of public viewings. Everyone says it’s fantastic, so I might just have to come back in May!

Fútbol is without a doubt Spain’s favorite sport. (And speaking of fútbol, one of my señora’s sons was on the Spanish national team. How neat is that?) However, Córdoba was in a tennis frenzy the weekend we were there because the Davis Cup was in town and Rafael Nadal was playing. I saw kids everywhere with Spanish flags tied around their shoulders like capes, and one little boy kept jumping off things yelling, “I’m a superhero!” The Spanish team beat France in the semifinals, so it was a happy weekend in Córdoba.

On Sunday, I went hiking in a part of the Spanish national forest in Huelva (south-west of Sevilla.) We had a big CIEE group, but nobody else from my immediate program went, so it was fun to meet some new friends. Our three guides were funny and they all brought their dogs, who ran around begging for snacks from our lunches. We climbed rocks and saw lots of livestock in the pastures along the way: sheep, pigs, horses, goats. On the way home, our bus stopped at a gas station and I filled my water bottle from the bathroom tap, thinking nothing of it. That night I proceeded to get VERY sick – so sick that I missed class the following morning. I have a hunch it had something to do with that water, so I’ll consider that a lesson learned!

This weekend I’m hoping to see a bullfight. I’m not sure what to think of this particular sport, but along with flamenco and tapas, bullfighting is about a Spanish as it gets. It’s such a culturally important tradition that I don’t think I should pass up an opportunity to experience it at least once. This weekend we’re also planning a trip to the beach in Cádiz, because it’s still in the 80’s and 90’s here every day.

Speaking of which, let me just say that I can’t wait for autumn to show up in Sevilla. Scarves, spiced candles and all manner of pumpkin things make it such a cozy time of year. (Not sure how common pumpkins are in Sevilla… this could be problematic.) It’s also strange to be so disconnected from Packers football. I have to settle for the highlight reels and hope nobody spills the beans over facebook. Wisconsin family and friends – cheer extra loud for me!

Stay in touch, everybody. I have Skype, so add me if we’re not already contacts. I also posted my address in my blog profile if you feel like slipping a note in the mail.

Now, for everyone’s favorite part… pictures!

View of my room from the door.

So cozy.

The CIEE center where we have language classes.

Córdoba

Wishing they could’ve been at La Copa Davis.

Exploring in Huelva

Village of La Santa Ana de Real in Huelva

The First Few Days

I’m finally in Sevilla! Quite a bit has happened since 5:30 PM on Wednesday, so here’s a quick recap: My mom dropped me off at O’Hare and I tried not to cry as I hugged her goodbye. Easier said than done! Goodbyes are tough. After my bags were checked, I hopped in the security line. Every single person getting on an international flight was funneled through one checkpoint, so the line was long. During the wait I discovered an encouraging letter my mom had snuck in my purse – una sorpresa buena!

I spent the majority of the next 20 hours on airplanes: Chicago > London > Madrid > Sevilla. I made some new friends from Germany and Denmark and watched the movie “Water for Elephants.”

When I finally arrived in Sevilla, I was met by Puri, one of our guías (guides) from CIEE. She and Eduardo are around the same age as our group and they are so wonderful: showing us around the city, answering our questions, and patiently translating when we’re confused. Puri and I took a taxi to Hotel Bécquer with all of my stuff minus one suitcase which had decided to stay in Madrid. ¡No se preocupe! It would arrive the following morning.

I was the final student to arrive at the hotel, so I met the rest of the group over dinner and then we had our first orientation meeting with Luisa, the director of the program. She and our guías speak all Spanish all the time, and they strongly encourage us to do the same. Our group has a range of Spanish fluency, but we are fumbling along pretty well. Intensive Spanish classes (grammar and conversation) start on Monday and last for two weeks before regular classes begin.

The city of Sevilla is beautiful! We went out the first night for one of the girls’ birthdays, and at that point I’d been up for something like 30 hours. We walked down to Calle Betis and had sangria by the river… I felt like a true Sevillana.

I moved in with my señora Lola (mi mamá española) on Saturday, and things are going really well so far. She only knows about 5 words in English, so we talk with our hands a lot and I carry around a dictionary to help when we’re stuck. Lola’s apartment is about a 30-40 minute walk from the Universidad and the CIEE Center, so I think in a few weeks I’ll rent a bike (“una bici” in Sevilla). Until then, walking everywhere is good practice in learning the streets- a hard task in Sevilla, where most of them are small and winding. I’m lost without my map… and sometimes with it.

I’ll try to post pictures of my room and the apartment soon. So far, life is good en Sevilla!

Calle San Luis

Parking space is at a premium.

“Reales Alcázares de Sevilla”

La Luz

Flowers at the Alcázar

Palms at Alcázar

Ventana