A Whole New World

Everybody get the Aladdin reference? OK good. We spent most of the weekend arguing over whether Disney's Aladdin took place in Morocco or Saudi Arabia. Turns out its setting is a "fictional Arabian City." What a cop-out.

At the Rock of Gibraltar, with the coast of Africa in the background

Anyways, 

Our trip to Morocco was probably the most culture shock that I have experienced this whole trip. We started our trip in Gibraltar, which is the southern most point of Europe and is only a 23 kilometer and 30 minute boat ride away from Africa. Because Gibraltar is a province of the UK, they speak English there, so it was weird in the first place going from somewhere that still felt like we were in Spain, but where English is the primary language. We went on a tour there, going up the infamous Rock of Gibraltar and hanging out with the monkeys (which are mean and steal your food!) and having a beautiful view of Africa in the distance in one direction and Spain in the other. We also had the chance to drive across the only runway in the world where traffic actually has to stop in order to allow planes to land and take off. 

Mean monkey

We went to the top of that! (by car)

Then we left Gibraltar (but not before having to ask at least 6 different people about how to get our passports stamped, which we finally successfully did) and boarded the ferry for Ceuta, which is a Spanish city in the north of Africa. We boarded a new bus and drove straight to the Moroccan border, where we waited for about 50 minutes to have our passports checked and to be cleared through. Once we finally made it past the border and were officially in Morocco, we still had about a half hour drive to our hotel in M’Diq. Although Spain and Morocco are only separated by a few barriers and lots of policemen, the differences between the two were noticeable right away. We were definitely aware that we had entered a whole new culture. There were men and women in their gilabis, and the Moroccan flag, red with a green star (representing the 5 points of Islam) waved in the breeze. As we drove, we began to see some of the poverty that we had heard was so prevalent. Entire neighborhoods of houses and buildings that looked like they were abandoned and should be condemned had clothes hanging on the line on the roof. But areas that are a part of public infrastructure were well maintained and beautiful, like the walkways along the coast and the pedestrian bridges over the major roadways. However, those weren’t the only contradictions we experienced during our trip. During our tour of the first town, Chefchaouen, our adorable little (literally, he was probably only 5 feet tall) tour guide, who we affectionately called Habibi (meaning “my love” or “my darling” in Arabic) surprised us all by pulling out his Iphone to show us a picture on his facebook. And all over the town, its winding narrow roads made us feel like we were stepping back in time, that is, until we saw the satellite dishes scattering the rooftops, which ruined the ambiance a little bit. But Chefchaouen was still a beautiful little town, wedged in the Rif Mountains with lots of hills and beautiful views. There were also plenty of adorable cats and kittens running around. The explanation for this according to Habibi is “because there’s no Chinese here”, which got some laughs out of the group. I suppose political correctness isn’t a priority in rural towns of Morocco. 

Getting henna in M'Diq

The blue walls are supposed to keep the mosquitoes away

"Of course I have an Iphone; Who doesn't??"

Then we went to another little town called Tangiers, which is a bigger town and closer to the border. We had a chance to do some shopping for leather goods, fabrics, and other souvenirs to take home with us. In Morocco, everything is bargained. If a vender tells you that a bag costs 40 euros, a good bargainer can get it for somewhere around 25. I am not a good bargainer. I avoided the buying of things for that reason exactly. I bought one thing that was supposed to be 6 euros and I got it for 5. That is not how bargaining is supposed to be done. Shopping there is pretty much the most intimidating thing ever for someone as indecisive as me. If you even look at something for more than 5 seconds, there will be a person breathing down your neck, telling you how fine of a product that is and asking if you how much you want to pay for it. I just like to look at stuff! It was stressful. Then we went to a natural pharmacy where we were given samples of de-stressing lotions and neck massages. Our tour guides must have known that we were all going to need that after a nerve-racking 30 minutes of heckling with shop keepers with a mixture of broken Spanish and broken English. We all bought a few of the products they were selling and spent way more money than we should have, and made our way to our bus first to stop for lunch in a beautiful restaurant and then to drive to our hotel for the night. 

The restaurant that we ate lunch in holds wedding receptions almost every day, so they just leave these chairs up all the time. After the bride and groom are married, they sit in them to be presented to their families. We couldn't pass up the opportunity to show off our fantastic and oh-so loved violinista (the Spanish term for a third-wheel)

 On our way to the hotel, we encountered some kids, probably around 16 or 17 years old, who started banging on the side of the bus while we were stopped in traffic. At first we thought that they were just being kids and trying to be funny and mess with the tourists. Then when a few kids ran out in front of the bus to stop it, and we saw some of the other ones actually roll under the bus. We had no idea what was going on, and thought maybe they were trying to get to the storage well underneath and get to our luggage. But, what our tour guides told us afterwards, what they were really trying to do was get under the bus to hang on to the underside of it and ride the bus to the border of Morocco and Spain in order to cross the border illegally. Poverty is widespread, especially in the north of Morocco, and many children believe that they will have a better life in Spain. In fact, if a person under 18 can successfully make it across the border, they will be given free education and if they are there for more than 4 years, they will be granted Spanish citizenship. It is just so sad that there are children out there that are so desperate to get out of their country, that they are willing to risk their lives hanging onto the underside of a bus for 60 kilometers for the slim chance that the bus won’t be inspected thoroughly enough and they will be able to make it across the border. Needless to say, we were all a little shaken up after realizing what we had just encountered. But we knew when we signed up for the trip that it had the potential to be eye-opening and impactful, which it certainly was.

Luckily our dinner was in the hotel that night, since none of us were too keen on adventuring out into the city. We had a traditional Moroccan meal of couscous and lemon chicken, followed by a sugary, warm tea while we enjoyed a parade of performers. There was everything from magic tricks to “la chica elastica” (the elastic girl) to acrobatics to a man balancing a plate of candles on his head to a belly dancer. But if you really want to know about the bellydancing, you should ask Trevor, because he was picked out of the crowd to be part of our entertainment for the evening. The girl pulled him out of his chair and away from his dinner to unbutton and take off his shirt, put a jingly skirt and sparkly bra on him, and taught him to dance. I only wish the photos could portray just how hilarious this was. 

The next day we woke up to discover that we had a camel-view room. Right outside of our window was a mama and a baby camel, just hanging out in a field. After admiring them for a little bit, we headed down to breakfast where there were actual hard-boiled eggs. The best free breakfast I’ve had during my trip thus far! Something besides carbs, carbs and more carbs. What a treat! 

The view from our balcony

We then drove to Tetuan, our last stop in Morocco, to ride some camels by the sea. They were big and smelt bad and made loud noises, but they were really fun to ride! I liked the babies a little bit more. They were only a month old, but already almost as tall as me, and still super fluffy and cute. We also made a quick pit stop at the Cave of Hercules, a cavern made entirely by the waves with a really beautiful view of the ocean from the inside. 

After oohing and ahing over that for a little, we boarded the bus to cross the border back into Spain. I don’t think that I realized just how much I had missed being in Spain. We were only gone for 3 days, but it was a long 3 days and as soon as the gate was lifted and we drove through, it suddenly felt sunnier and like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Everything seemed cleaner, the people seemed friendlier, and it was nice to be back in a country where we understand the language being spoken (for the most part!) While I never felt threatened or unsafe (apart from the children under the bus incident where none of us really knew what was going on until after it was over), I also didn’t feel particularly wanted or welcome during our time in Morocco. In Tangiers and Tetuan, we experienced the judgmental glares, the hissing, the biting of the thumb from locals as we walked past. I understand that we are obviously foreign tourists on their turf, but we weren’t being disrespectful and it was hard for me to justify some of the cruel stares we received. It wasn’t all like that though; We also encountered some very friendly people, like Habibi and other tour guides and restaurant and store owners. We talked with the man that owned the gift shop in our hotel in Tetuan about some aspects of the economic and social situation in Morocco and about the 7 languages he spoke. We even got on close enough terms with him to name his bird. We named it shokran, one of the only words that we know in Arabic, which means thank you. Overall, we learned a lot, had some really eye-opening and thought-provoking experiences, and lived in a culture completely different than anything I’ve ever known personally. I’m glad that I had the opportunity to go.    

YOLO

Lagos

This weekend in Portugal, Jodi, Chuck, Trevor and I stuck to the theme of  YOLO (You Only Live Once). We applied it to everything from buying that glass of Sangria you’re not sure you want to spend the 3 euros on but really, really want, forcing yourself to get into the freezing cold ocean waters because you’re at a beach in Portugal and you can’t not go in the water, go beach/cave exploring in Lagos even though the sand hurts your feet and you have to climb over all sorts of rock formations, getting out of the bus to see the End of the World cliffs even though the freezing cold wind was strong enough that I could lean into it and be held up, and everything in between. Sometimes things just have to be put into a different perspective in order to determine what things are really worth doing. This weekend, YOLO kept us in an adventurous and optimistic state of mind during our adventures to Albufeira, Lagos and Sangres and I hope that I can continue with that principle for everything that I do in the future. That being said, here’s some pictures from our trip! 

Overlooking the ocean from a clifftop in Albufeira on our first day

Chuck and I just love to match

The End of the World Cliffs at Cabo San Vincente in Sangres. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought it was the end of the world. You can't see anything except a several hundred foot straight down descent with a backdrop of nothing but an endless sea

One of the most incredible feelings ever is to lean with the entire weight of your body into the air, and have it be held up by the forces of the wind, all while overlooking an infinite ocean

Apparently the end of the world is very windy

Starting off the day right in Lagos

We had to do a little rock climbing to get to the other side of the beach, but it was totally worth it because we were able to find some more beautiful beaches (they seem to be abundant in Portugal) and do a little cave exploring

 Kings of the Rock! Now they just have to get down...

They saved the best for last! Our last day was the sunniest at Praia de Oura in Albufeira

Praia de Oura

The whole group on our last day

 Next Stop: Morocco! We're also working on planning our trip to Italy at the end of the semester and trying to squeeze in some of the things in Sevilla that we want to do before the semester is over, like a soccer game and a bullfight. The semester is really winding down and it's so hard to believe that we've only got a few weeks left. We are scrambling to make the most of it and cover all of our study abroad bases. The weekend after Feria, which starts next week, we know that we want to go somewhere out of the country but have no idea where. I've seen everything already that was a priority for me to see, and now I just want to to go somewhere! I'm considering throwing a dart at a map...more later on how that goes! 

Sending my love, all the way from Spain!

Semana Santa

One of the floats we amazingly and accidentally found ourselves right next to

You don’t have to be Catholic to appreciate all the hard work, beauty and grace of Semana Santa. Something about being in a completely silent crowd at 2 o’clock in the morning to watch a procession of 2,000 men, most carrying candles and some carrying, on their shoulders, several ton floats depicting biblical scenes, is very poignant. That is, once you get over the fact that the outfits that they wear are what we have been conditioned to view as the mark of the KKK. At first, it was hard at first to see past their clothing, but we were eventually able to recognize it for what it was, their way of serving their personal penance to God privately. 

During the silent Madruga procession, at about 3 in the morning

One of the many graphic and intricate pasos

The full marching band that follows many of the procession, playing a personalized song for that specific brotherhood

Semana Santa is one of the most important weeks in Sevilla. It is also one of the largest scale observations of Holy Week in all of Spain. People come from all over the country to watch the pasos (floats) pass through the city. There are smartphone apps to track the routes of each brotherhood’s procession and people show up hours early just to get a good spot. We were very lucky both Thursday night, which is the day that the processions go all night and into the next day, and Saturday afternoon to get a very good spot to see the floats. Both days, we accidently ended up so close to the floats that we could have reached out and touched them if we wanted.

I'm pretty sure this cotton candy was bigger than her when it started

While I am slightly unnerved at the idea of men marching in the processions, carrying the thousand-pound floats and causing themselves physical pain as an act of penance, I am able to understand how meaningful it is to those devout to the Catholic faith.  All around me, people were emotional and moved by the sight of the scenes portrayed atop the pasos. Just being present in the occurrence of something so deeply personal to those all around me was something very special that I’m not sure I will ever experience again. 

And then of course, there’s the children who have to be bribed with bunuelos (small donuts covered in chocolate) and other sweets to pretend to be having a good time. Or at least to not act like their having a terrible time. But I guess that’s to be expected when you take a kid to a crowded place that the main attraction is standing still and watching a bunch of people in pointy hats walk past you. 

The line for the metro. I had never even waited in a line to get on the metro before this day

Next stop: Portugal to sit on some beaches and unwind after a long week of crowds in the city and tests at school. More stories on the way :) Love from Spain!

Onward and Upward to the North of Spain!

Starting off our adventure in the Sevilla airport

We started of our trip to Barcelona with some life experience. On the train from Airport to our hostel, I had my wallet stolen from me. Long story a short, a very well dressed man that had watched me take my wallet out and put it back in to tip a man that was playing the violin for tips on the train (we think they were working together), grabbed my wallet out of my purse on our way out of the train. When we were exiting, he was doing this thing that I thought was strange at the time, but not necessarily suspicious. As soon as the doors opened automatically, he started pressing the door close button to distract me, then when the doors actually started to close, he tried to open them forcibly with his hands, and got very close to me. I didn’t notice until after that my wallet was gone. After a few moments of freaking out that my passport, visa, driver’s license, 70 euros in cash, credit and debit cards and a few other miscellaneous things were gone, we sprang into action. We first stopped by my Spanish bank, Santander, where Victor couldn’t have been more helpful. Because I had no ID at all, he called the branch of Santander that I use in Sevilla, where Javier, the super sociable and friendly man at the desk that always helps me, remembered me and vouched for me so that I could withdraw cash from my account. Now that I had money and wasn’t stranded, we went to the police station for tourists (which says a lot that they need a police station exclusively for tourists) where I filed a report and cancelled all my credit cards. Then we took a train to the US Embassy (where it was SO nice to see an American Flag and talk to people from Texas and Colorado) where I got a replacement. All along the way, everybody was so helpful and nice. Everything went about as well as it could have gone for how bad the situation was. At the end of everything, I felt like the most self-sufficient person in the world and that I could truly handle anything that could be thrown at me. And actually, the next day, I was contacted by a random man named Rafael who found my abandoned wallet on the train, sans cash and credit cards of course, but with passport, driver’s license, metro card, App card, and all the other important things to me but not to a pickpocketer. Not to mention that I really like that wallet! Rafael called me and met me in the city center to give it back to me. It felt so nice to have it back in my hands. Rafael and all the other people that helped me along the way completely renewed my faith in people and may have even balanced out the fact that there are people in the world like the man that stole my wallet in the first place.
Moral of the story, if a well dressed person starts to try to open the doors with his arms that he just requested to be closed, he’s probably about to pickpocket you, but it will all work out because you can handle anything!

The rest of Barcelona was really exciting. We met a few people in the hostel that became part of our group and we explored the city together. I really loved the hostel environment. Everybody is in the same boat and just trying to meet people and experience a new place. We got really lucky with the hostel in Barcelona because it was such a sociable place (with really good free breakfast!) The first night, a group of us went to Parque Guell to see the sunset and the beautiful view of the city as it transformed from day to night. Barcelona is beautiful because it has the mountains, the city and the beach all in the same place, yet it still maintains a sense of charm. It’s kind of an anomaly actually. The next day was March 29th, which in Spain for the past 3 years, has been a day of a general strike. People in all types of professions and fields skip out on work and protest in the streets against unfair labor reforms that the protesters claim makes them slaves to their employers. For the most part and the parts that we saw, the protest was not violent. All of the protesting was confined to a part of the city that we avoided. When we got past the marching groups, the riot police, and the M-80’s, we forgot that there was even a protest going on. When we got to the historical part of the city, near the coast, it was beautiful and sunshiney. There were talented street performers playing the guitar and a strange instrument called the Hang, which is like a steel drum turned upside down and sounded beautiful. We spent the day being normal tourists, going to lunch and museums and stores. The entire time, we never felt threatened or in danger of any sort. It wasn’t until the next day that we saw the pictures and the news that we saw some of the things that happened. So don’t worry, family, Barcelona is a big city and we weren’t near any of the crazy things that you saw on the news. The day after the strike, we had some time to see La Sagrada Familia and the rest of Parque Guell, to get our Gaudi fix. We then made our way to the bus station, loaded up on the bus and headed for Zaragoza! We were happy to get out of Barcelona just to get away from Catalan, the language that they speak in all of Catalonia, the region where Barcelona is. Catalan is a strange mix between Spanish and French and Latin and uses a lot of x’s. Needless to say, we were lost. The good thing about being there, was that it gave us a reference point for our Spanish levels. When we suddenly found ourselves in a place where we didn’t speak the primary language, we were thrilled when we found somebody that we could speak Spanish with. It’s all about perspective…


It's hard to believe that these pictures were taken on the same afternoon when part of the city looked like this... 

 

...And the other part looked like this...

This is how the non-protesters spend the huelga day. I think they have the right idea!

Some of our friends that we met in the hostel

La Sagrada Familia

The iconic benches of Parque Guell

Zaragoza, while still a city, was a nice break from huge Barcelona. The hostel was close the historical city center and a cool modern part of the city where the World Expo in 2008 was held. There are all kinds of modern building and sculptures. Zaragoza was a very eclectic city because on one side of the river was that, and then the other side of the river was the historic part of town, with cathedrals and Roman ruins. One of the main things we spent our time doing in Zaragoza was chasing pigeons and trying to capture the perfect picture of Ally chasing a huge flock of mid-flight pigeons. It didn’t work. There wasn’t a huge flock anywhere, and the most pigeons we could find all together were about 6. It was pretty amusing trying to attract them and hilariously pathetic when the best picture we got was Ally scaring 1 little bird. Also in Zaragoza, we started playing the “who can hold water in their mouth without spitting it out from laughing?” game. Sounds simple and lame, right? It’s actually very difficult and hilarious when it’s us playing. Another game we have been playing is the “have you ever thought about…” game. Examples: Have you ever thought about what monkeys think about? Have you ever thought about how many times you’ve farted in your sleep and not known? Have you ever thought about how many people have slept in that bed? (Relevant to our hostel-hopping), etc. We have plenty of mechanisms to pass the time or to cope with our travel stresses. We’ve begun saying comments that are so drenched in sarcasm that people around us probably actually think that we are serious when we say things like “I just wish this bus was a little more crowded” or “I was actually hoping that the bus would be late, that’s much more convenient”. I suppose it’s the sort of thing that you have to be us to understand, but it keeps our trip fun and light. I just hope that we can maintain this sense of light-heartedness when Trevor, Ally, Ally’s friend Jose and I embark on our 10-day Italy excursion in May. 

The winning pigeon picture. At least one was flying

Our next stop was Pamplona. Most of our traveling so far has been at nights, so that we have full days in each place. The only bad thing about that is that we are starving by the time we get to our next destination. Lucky for us, there was an awesome Mexican place right next to our apartment! Pamplona is a very small and relaxed city. To get to the city center from our apartment, we got to walk through two beautiful parks, one of which has a bunch of random animals in a moat. We were pretty confused by the deers, chickens, turkeys, geese, quail and ducks that were running around in the moat of an old fortress. Once we got bored feeding them muffins and watching them chase each other, we moved on to the actual city center and found ourselves at the start of where the infamous bull run of San Fermin happens every summer. We followed the whole path to the where it ends, which is the bullring. Because the city was so small, we had to do something to take up time, so we even spent some time pretending we were the bulls/ people running from bulls and continuing the “have you ever thought about?” game with Chuck’s question of “have you ever thought about if you can crack your neck too far so that it’s fatal?”. Well, have you?? Even though the day that we were in Pamplona was April Fool’s day, we make a truce among us not to torture each other. Probably a good idea, considering that the whole trip was pretty much a giant April Fool’s joke. We are constantly joking and making fun of each other, which is really the funnest way to be :)

The start of our Running of the Bulls simulation

...And the end

The line for people to receive money in return for recycling. So smart!

Amazing One Man Band!

 

San Sebastian might have been my favorite city of the trip. While our “hostel” (actually just an apartment converted into a hostel, with a bunch of bunkbeds in 3 different rooms, 2 baby bathrooms, and a baby kitchen) did have a strange atmosphere, we were in a great location, near lots of good restaurants and only about a 5 minute walk from the beach and city center. The city is built right up to the beach. It’s beautiful because in one photograph, you can see the mountains, the city and the beach. It had a very relaxed feel and I could just feel myself distressing with every step I took. One of the best things about being in the north of Spain cities is the food. Pinxtos (pronounced pinchos) are small bites of all types of food on a toothpick. They are all arranged on the bar, and you just go through with a plate and pick up whichever ones looks good to you. It’s super fun! 

I made a sand boat!

Chuck showing the bear who's boss

???

Trevor puts the "Fun" in "Funicular"

Wind Comb

 Our last day of our trip was in Santander. During our entire trip, we had been doing all our planning the day before. When we left, all we had booked was a a flight to Barcelona, a place to stay once we got there, and a flight back from Santander. From there, it was up to us get from Barcelona to Santander, budgeting our time in each city how we wished and booking our hostels and transportation the day before. This worked out just fine, up until Santander, where our accommodation options were limited and we ended up having to stay in a hotel off the side of the highway and way outside of the city center. But, because it’s us, we were able to just laugh at it and make the most of our last stop before heading home. Once we did make it into the city, we had a great time. Santander is a small city, surrounded by beaches. We spent most of the day on the Peninsula de la Magdalena, where there is a Palace, some beaches, a playground, and a little zoo. I had a small freakout moment when I discovered the penguins in their outside pen with an ocean/mountain view. Not too bad for penguins… The views from the peninsula were beautiful, with what we call “Inception rocks” (they look like the rocks from the movie, the waves crashing up through them), the palace, the lighthouse on its own little island, and the sandy beaches. We had a fun time channeling our inner children and played on all the playground equipment, including a slide that landed on the beach! We concluded our tour all over the north of Spain with a meal at a Japanese restaurant. I forgot how much I missed miso soup and the infamous white sauce. We then had to head for the airport to fly with the dreaded RyanAir again. We left plenty of time to get to the airport so that we could check our luggage and make sure it fit the carry-on requirement (they actually check AND enforce those requirments) and get a good spot in line (seats are first come, first serve). We had to do some luggage shuffling, including me wearing 4 scarves and Trevor stuffing two pairs of jeans in his jacket. We made it through and back to Sevilla without any issues! (other than being extremely exhausted!)

Overall, Ally, Chuck, Trevor and I had a great time on our adventure. We had some stressful moments but I think it’s safe to say that they were balanced out by all the amazing times that we had.  We learned what to do and what not to do for our upcoming trip to Italy after the semester is over. I can only hope that we will have as fun of a time as we did on this trip. We ended this trip with plenty of stories and jokes, a good attitude, and a newfound love for our homes in Sevilla.

On our way back home from the Sevilla airport!