NO8DO

"Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados
Con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos
Playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos
Y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio"

-Violeta Parra

These past four months have been what I call "fake life", in which we all had the opportunity to step outside of our bubble and into a completely new scene. All the things you think about; like going to the gym, what someone said at work, if gas prices went up, what traffic is going to be like... have literally stopped, and its been replaced by the endless possibilities of what you can do on that day. Wake up, have breakfast then go back to sleep until lunch? Sure! Didn't have time to run an errand, doesn't matter, you can do it tomorrow. Sit by the river and have a bottle of wine? Yes please. The best part is that no one knows anything about your life, so YOU get to decide who you are, what you do and what you like.

That's the whole point of this, finding out what ultimately works for you and what doesn't.

Obviously there is the whole cultural immersion aspect; travelling to different cities, getting lost, all the wonderful architecture, the good and the bad food, not to mention the ridiculous Andalusian accent... but six months from now when I'm heartsick for Sevilla and looking through all the pictures I'm not really going to be saying "look at that fountain" am I? Absolutely not. I'm going to be saying "I remember that day when I was with ________ and ______ and we did this and that." 

These people are the ones that I chose to spend my days with, and all of a sudden it hits that after we part ways, that's it.

People always say that age is just a number, well I think that time is also just a number. Who's to say that your friend from high school is more significant than your friend from a month ago? You enjoy each other's company all the same, you share about your past and talk about plans for the future... a friend is a friend. Of course Portugal will still be beautiful and you can sit on the beach and watch the sunset, but it will be boring after a while if you have no one to share it with.

Sevilla will always have my heart, and I know that sooner or later I will come back and visit good old 100 Montaditos on a Wednesday, go to Los Coloniales for dinner, grab a beer at La Cerveceria Internacional, then head to the river. This beautiful city will always be here, waiting. 

But all the people who made it special will not... and they too will always have my heart.

So to España and all my friends, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart, every single second of these past four months exceeded my expectations. I hope life and its crazy ways will throw us back together again.

NO8DO.

Short and sweet

To some of you, living in Spain for four months to "study abroad" is really only an excuse to go on an extended vacation. Truth: you're absolutely right. Yet living the hard of life being lazy and eating all the time sometimes requires its own mini-vacation.


Portugal is about a two hour drive from Sevilla, and as soon as you cross the border the landscape is completely different, and nobody will speak in Spanish to you. Only English or Portuguese. Actually, even the people are quite different... maybe a little nicer?


Although this spring has been quite rainy and cold at times, we made it onto the beach all three days; but Sunday was picture perfect, not a single cloud. With only two weeks until I head back home, Portugal was by far the best way to end the term. Lagos was lovely and calm. Not a lot of people in the city, and its almost impossible to get lost. Our itinerary was basically to do whatever we felt like doing; so that included a lot of sand, sun, and sangria.


Lagos is at the southernmost tip of the country, and its coastlines are incredible. We had the opportunity to hike out onto the massive cliffs that hug the ocean, and we even tried to catch the sunset at Cabo Sao Vicente (aka the End of the World); which is the closest tip to the United States; but that didn't really work out as planned because it was extremely windy and cloudy. On Saturday we all hopped on a boat, drank some sangria and got an awesome view of the grottoes. Those things are MASSIVE, and create a cool network caves. And of course the beaches were beautiful, the sand was different; it kind of looked like sesame seeds.


If I lived in Spain I would be going to Portugal every single weekend.


But of course, the best part of any trip is the company. Even though we filled three buses, it didn't seem like there were that many of us. Everybody was on the same page; to have a relaxing weekend and have fun. At night the city came alive, all the locals and tourists go out dancing in the clubs... in which you can apparently still smoke. We weren't sure what the typical "Portuguese cuisine" was, but it seemed like it was similar to what we eat here in Andalusia, so of course we find the best places with burgers, ribs and Mexican food.


At the end of the day, its always so nice to come back to Sevilla. Going out of town for a little bit definitely makes you appreciate all the good things about "home", wherever that might be at the moment.


It also makes me wonder: leaving all my soul mates for a few months in Canada was hard, but I always knew I'd be seeing them again. But now that I'm leaving these new soul mates that I might actually never see again... how much harder will it be?

How many times can you fall in love?

It's one of those nights where I'm sitting at home, catching up on homework, getting over a nasty death cough, and listening to Bon Iver. I remember in February feeling so ridiculously homesick, missing beautiful Calgary and its beautiful people, but I have a feeling that in a short six weeks this feeling is going to be reversed.


There are moments when I literally need to stop whatever I'm doing, because it seems like I'm a movie. Am I really standing outside La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona? Si. Am I really lying on the beach by the Mediterranean? Si. It might be a little presumptuous of me, but I will forever consider Sevilla to be my third home.


Everybody has a list of the cities they want to see and places they want to go. Barcelona was definitely on my list (don't tell Madrid, but if I don't make it over there... I won't exactly feel too bad about it).


Barcelona
First and foremost, you all need to understand something VERY important about Spanish culture; people here don't associate themselves as being "Spanish", their loyalty lies with their city first, then region, and finally their country. I'm living in Sevilla, Andalucia; which is where all the stereotypes about Spain come from. Flamenco, bullfights, sangria, being lazy... all true. Now go to a different region of Spain, and you're basically in a totally different world.


Here in Sevilla the university gave us a full week off classes because of Semana Santa (Holy Week), I mean... why not? So of course, I book the cheapest flight I can find (31 euros) to Barcelona. But Murphy's Law says that on the day I want to travel, the whole country has a National Protest day, meaning... all services are either closed or limited. How I made it to Barcelona, I will never know. Granted, my plane landed at 3.30 and I had to wait until 5 because that's when the public transit would resume. Picture hundreds of people with their luggage cramming onto a train. The Exodus.


My biggest incentive for this week-long trip was to meet up with my aunt, who I haven't seen since I was about thirteen. She has been living in Barcelona for about two years, so who better to show me the city?


I have always known I'm a city girl, but Barcelona is just even more than I could have imagined. It's a metropolitan city, a tourist city, an international city, but at the same time it feels comfortable and homely. You can find your way around without a single word of Spanish (and by the way, Barcelona is in the region of Catalonia, where their official language is Catalan). The people are so friendly and willing to help you if you're lost, and they're always interested to know where you're from.


Having a mom who's an architect will make you a little crazy when it comes to architecture, so the fact that I got to see ANTONI GAUDI'S famous works, blew my mind away (only just a little). These are the places that I crammed into 4 days of sight-seeing (off the top of my head):
-La Rambla
-Barrio Gotico (Gothic/old neighbourhood)
-Park Guell
-Paseo de Gracia
-Casa Mila (La pedrera)
-Casa Batlo
-La Sagrada Familia
-Magic Fountains of Montjuic
-La Barcelonetta


Even though my digital camera broke, thank goodness I had my blackberry to take pictures, because I don't know what I would have done.


Basically, I love that city. And I am going back. Any questions?


Valencia
On Monday my aunt and I took the bus and headed off to Valencia for 3 nights. Valencia is the third largest in Spain (After Madrid and Barcelona), and it definitely reminded me of Sevilla. Our hostel was conveniently in the "old city" by the cathedral, so we were right within walking distance from anything and everything. And the churches with their hourly dinging were also within breathing distance from us... so great when you want to sleep in.


Our stay in Valencia was a little more relaxed than in Barcelona, we weren't in any rush to see anything in particular, so if anything came up we just went and explored. Most hostels I've stayed at in Spain offer free walking tours of the city, this is something I highly recommend! Personally, I like learning all about the history and random little facts you wouldn't know otherwise.


Valencia is right by the ocean, and it is also in another region of Spain which is called Valencia. They also have their own dialect; Valenciano... which is a weird mixture between Spanish and Catalan. But obviously they all speak Spanish too.


By far, my two favourite things in Valencia were the Turia River and the aquarium. Valencia used to have a river running through it, but a long time ago (hundreds of years) they decided to cut the flow to build a road, but the people weren't too keen on that so they started planting tree seedlings. Long story short, the riverbed is now a giant park, and it's beautiful. If you're a runner like I am, best place ever to go for a run. If you walk to the end of the park, you'll end up at the Ciudad de las artes y las ciencias (City of the arts and sciences). This is a giant complex of buildings, one of them being an aquarium. There's a zoo, a planetarium, etc. And it's all designed by the architect Santiago Calatrava (peace bridge anyone)? If anyone has been to the Vancouver aquarium, you'll know how amazing it is to see this whole different world. So peaceful and humbling!


A great thing about travelling and staying in hostels is the people you meet along the way. Everybody is on the same page, so you can make some great connections in a short amount of time! I was really lucky and hit it off with 4 people from; Brazil, Belgium, Wales and Pennsylvania. We even went on a pub crawl that the hostel offers on my last night there, the sleep deprivation was worth every second.


After a week of all these shennanigans, it was great to come "home" to Sevilla and sleep in my own bed. My body was definitely a trooper and waited until the last minute to shut down on me. And I didn't miss out on Sevilla's famous Semana Santa processions, which were definitely... something unique. Just look at the pictures.


I won't even try and count how many times I have fallen in love; with cities, art, food, music, people. Because it just kind of happens every day. 


But don't worry, the first thing I say to somebody I meet is "I LOVE THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS."

Moroccan Lovesong

Sorry for the long absence, but midterms finally ended and I really didn't think it was worth it to keep you all in the loop about what time I woke up, had breakfast, went to class, etc. Because that's really all I have done for the past two weeks.


Until now.


As I was explaining to my lovely friend Sarah during one of our drives through the African countryside, "If I could compose and dedicate a love song to Morocco, I would" but lacking the musical and artistic abilities, I'll just have to blog about it.


Basically, I had the pleasure of being a Colombian-Canadian studying in Spain vacationing in Morocco. This hypothetical song has the potential of being a rap instead.


On Friday afternoon (which by the way has been the only day its rained in Sevilla since I've been here) 4 out of the 7 Calgary girls left with a group of 70 for Tangier, Morocco. The first impression we got as we stepped off the ferry, was the police catching a couple of guys attempting to stow away on the boat back to Spain. The second impression: there were no women out on the streets, only men. It was a little unnerving to think that all of a sudden I was in a place where women were not really considered equal to men.


The hotel arranged for us was definitely a nice upgrade from the hostels I had been getting "used" to. In fact, this hotel was really nice by any standards in general. All of our breakfasts and dinners were provided, and the meals were beautiful! Fresh vegetables, couscous... we were definitely spoiled. Obviously the only thing we had to be aware of was NOT drinking their water, everybody was constantly buying 1.5L water bottles. I kind of got lazy near the end and brushed my teeth with the tap water, but so far so good (knock on wood).


Saturday morning we were up bright and early for Tetouan. This was definitely a big reality check and culture shock. Certainly not a place where I would visit and explore on my own. We had a guide assigned to us (Muhammad) who we all fell in love with. This man has been giving tours for 42 years, and speaks 5 languages (Arabic, French, Spanish, English and German). In fact, the majority of people speak Arabic, French, Spanish and English. Kind of puts us North Americans to shame. Muhammad took us to the Medina (old city) and bombarded us with religious, political and cultural knowledge of his city. For a couple of hours we wondered through the markets, taking in all the sights and smells, we were seriously on sensory overload. Merchants trying to sell you things, people hustling and bustling on their daily errands, children running back and forth. If I had gotten separated from the group... I don't even want to think about it. Muhammad knew everything and everybody, he was just such a commanding and knowledgeable person. After lunch, we said goodbye to Tetouan and headed towards the ocean.


And by the ocean I mean the exact point where the Mediterranean and Atlantic meet.


Add some camels and a camel ride to that.


To be perfectly honest it was a little sad to see how they treat the animals, it just served as another example in not only the cultural differences but the economic and developmental differences. These people need to make a livelihood out of something... whether it is exploiting some camels, selling stolen goods in the markets, or kids selling roses in the streets. It was a humbling experience. What good does and International Relations degree do without some actual international experiences?


That evening we all got together and bonded over some vino (wine) and music, our group had a great mix of Spaniards, Brits, Americans, and another Canadian!


Sunday was another early day, but definitely worth every little bit of sleep deprivation that I currently have (which is a LOT). The Moroccan geography is absolutely beautiful, with cliffs and mountains and donkeys and sheep everywhere. Obviously these mountains have nothing on the Rockies, but it was so good to see some type of mountain. Our destination that day was to Chefchaouen. Which is now probably on my top ten favourite places on earth.


Chefchaouen is one of the cleanest, most peaceful, friendliest and beautiful places I have visited so far. Completely different than Tangers or Tetouan. I felt completely comfortable and safe walking and exploring by myself (which I did). The markets were clean, with vendors who were not imposing at all. We even got to hear the calls to prayer! This city is all blue, apparently because it keeps the mosquitoes away. We all got a couple of hours to wander by ourselves around the marketplace and barter with the locals. Its unbelievable how much you can buy for a relatively small amount. I am definitely coming back to this city at some future point in my life.


The journey back to Sevilla was so long, and draining. Bus, ferry, bus, Sevilla at 3.30am, sleep at the girls' apartment, metro home at 11, econ presentation at 1.30, then 3 hour film class. I would change absolutely nothing about it.


Ps. We had a couple of kids try and latch themselves to our bus so they could sneak into Spain. Apparently this happens all the time.
Pps. Chefchaouen produces 90% of the hash in Morocco, and Morocco exports about 70% of the total hash worldwide.

Sleepless in Sevilla

Spring has finally arrived in Spain! The birds, caterpillars and wasps are out in full force; not to mention my allergies. All the Reactine I brought from Calgary is not going to last me longer than a few weeks... its like my body is allergic to all the sun. By this point in Calgary the winter blues have set in, but over on this side of the pond we've had a total of two overcast days; I wake up, and the sun is out! It's funny how the true Canadian tolerance to the "cold" is finally making itself useful; while Ally is still wearing socks to bed and walking around the house in layers, I've shed all of that. And out in the streets, some people still have their "winter" jackets, but I expose as much of my skin to the sunlight to quench the deprivation.

The past week has been a catch-up on sleep and appreciation of Sevilla kind of of week. Its wonderful to just go downtown and discover new areas of the city, and re-visit the familiar old ones. I actually feel comfortable enough around certain sectors of the city to give directions to wandering tourists. But let's not go too crazy on that level of comfort. It usually involves a team effort.

I would like to share about my life-changing experience on Friday when I finally attended a good old flamenco show. The performance lasted 45 minutes, but it felt no longer than 5. The music, the atmosphere, the dancers were breath-taking. I have always held a deep appreciation and respect for all types of dancing, but this was just on a whole other level. The dancers and the music conveyed such powerful emotions, I'm sure everyone in the audience felt it down to their toes.

Sevilla is so close to the coast, an hour's drive on the high way will take you past lots of little beach towns, which is exactly what we did with our host mom Lola on Sunday. I can't remember the last time I was by the ocean, but its lovely every single time. According to Lola its unseasonably warm, but its still not sweltering hot. We could lie comfortably to tan [and sleep], but there was a constant breeze that sometimes made you put on a light sweater. FYI: the water was NOT warm.

Today is a provincial holiday (Día de Andalucia) so we have no classes; of course this is the first day since I've been here where I've woken up before 7am [not because I chose to]. So what's on the agenda? A picnic in the park and a stroll or bike ride by the river. 

ps. keep in mind that I am and will continue to be extremely jealous of missing out on ski season. 

pps. I am also showing the few Spaniards I've befriended youtube videos of Calgary.

Carnaval

What do people mean when they say the "third biggest carnival in the world"? I really couldn't come up with an answer to that either, maybe a mix between Rio de Janeiro's beautiful costumes and beautiful people dancing and Mardi Gras' drinking. Or maybe they meant the apocalypse.


On Wednesday I had my first quiz of the semester, and let me just say that I haven't written or studied for anything in about TWO months, then add the fact that I genuinely keep forgetting that part of my being here is to get an education. On the other hand, classes here are very similar to Junior High or High School, with worksheets and attendance. The little town I live in is very quiet and usually by Thursdays I start to get cabin fever and a serious need to go downtown where there's people hustling and bustling. Interestingly enough, there are 2 movie theaters in Sevilla that don't dub their movies into Spanish [side note: when Spain was under the Franco dictatorship, a law was passed that all foreign movies had to be dubbed into Spanish] so Andrea and I went for a nice evening walk along the river and watched Steven Spielberg's War Horse. 


Our university's international student center really makes an effort in integrating us into the Spanish community by providing us with babysitting opportunities, going on 'field trips', joining the intermural soccer team, etc.  So on Friday morning we met downtown nice and early to catch some buses and go see the ancient Roman ruins of Italica. This little city is not very far from here, and the ruins are still in very good shape... considering that they are more than 2000 years old. Personally speaking, I think that one of the best things about Spain is that there were so many different cultural influences that didn't destroy each other's architecture but just accommodated it to suit their needs. So basically you have a mix of 4 different cultures in the same area. Not to mention that they built HUGE infrastructure back in the day with pretty much sticks and stones. The Italica excursion only took up the morning, so in the afternoon I joined the lovely Calgary girls and we had some lunch and beers out on a patio [side note: we got pooped on by birds... good luck?] and the rest of the day we discussed about what trips we wanted to take and looked into flights. Finally, we decided that we would go out on the town for the first time since we've been here. After dinner we went over to Calle Betiz (think 17th Ave) and bar hopped a little, probably not a good idea considering that Saturday was the big Carnaval day.


From what I heard on the news, Carnaval is the third largest festival after Rio de Janeiro and Mardi Gras, and it actually has a really long history. The Egyptians had a 'carnival' style celebration, and when they were conquered by the Romans the Romans liked the idea of it, so they carried forward and brought it to Spain. You don't just go to Carnaval, you have to be 100% mentally prepared for it, and that includes costume. We were the 7 deadly sins. As I mentioned before, for the rest of my life I will refer to Saturday night as the apocalypse, so I will not dwell on the specifics. The bus picked us up at 8pm, the drive was an hour and a half to the beach town of Cadiz (which is beautiful by the way) where there were probably thousands of people dressed up and partying it up on the streets. Honestly, for the first few hours I was really caught up in the festive mood, looking at all the great costumes and walking around, but by 2.30am I hit the wall, and everything just went downhill from there. There were no public restrooms, only a few select porta-potties, so the streets were to everyone's disposal. We got trapped in a street where literally everyone was pressed against one another. There were riot police. There were people passed out on the streets. The amounts of garbage was just something else. All of this combined with the fact that its kind of cold at 4 am, and that our bus wasn't coming until 530... not good. We have come to accept the fact that the Spanish are not big planners or concerned with efficiency, but if you have 40 buses and like 2000 people waiting for the buses, then its probably not a good idea to make the meeting time and place all the same. Common sense? Also, I was so put off by the lack of bathroom access that all I had to drink the whole night was half a water bottle of water.


So now its Sunday, and I got home at about 8.30am. The first thing I did was take the longest shower of my life, go to bed, wake up for breakfast, go to bed, wake up for lunch, go to bed, wake up again. Also, I might need to burn the shoes I wore last night.


Eighth lesson: Don't do anything like Carnaval ever again. The whole point of this trip is to be open to new experiences, and I am definitely not one to judge before I'm somewhat more informed on the issue at hand. So yes, I had an idea of what I was getting myself into, but I went with an open mind and found out it's just not for me. 

Andalucia

Seventh lesson: Everybody hangs their clothes out to dry, so whatever you put in the wash won't be dry for about 5 days. A fact I overlooked when I packed only one pair of winter pyjamas.


This weekend I took my first trip out of the city to explore the outlying towns and countryside of Andalucia (the "province" I live in). Together with all the Calgary girls from UofC, we set out bright and early Friday morning to the Renfe station (train station) for the 9:39 train to Córdoba. This town is most famous for its mosque/Cathedral aka La Mezquita. This building started out as a pagan temple like 900 years ago, and as different cultures invaded Spain they just simply converted it to suit their religious needs. When the Muslims were here for 700  years they went all out and made the building into a beautiful mosque, and when the Catholics re-conquered Spain they added a few wings to the building and made it their Cathedral. We arrived in the town we hopped on the #4 bus, because according to our hostel's website it would drop us off fairly close to them. Apparently not. We rode the whole bus route, for an hour, waiting for the street where our stop should have been. Instead we got a nice scenic drive around the city, went back to the Renfe station and took a cab to the hostel. The first thing we did was go to the Mezquita, which was absolutely amazing and absolutely freezing. It's crazy how all the Catholic and Islamic architectural styles are combined. After grabbing lunch and sitting in the sun, we made 'reservations' for the Arab baths. The concept for this is that you have to alternate between cold, tepid and hot pools. We got the student deal which also included massages. We killed a good 2 or 3 hours there, just floating and being quiet. For dinner, we went to a Moroccan restaurant and had some good couscous, and other dishes that Spaniards don't eat too frequently. We even got a belly-dancing show! Even though Córdoba is a small town we managed to find the busy shopping street where all the Asian dollar stores are, and most of us managed to find all the things we need for our costumes next weekend (Carnival).


Saturday morning we packed up and went to the bus station to catch the mid-morning bus to Granada. The drive through Andalucia is breath-taking. Some parts reminded me a little bit of California. But for the most part it was full of olive trees, and continuously rolling hills. The soil here is very red. We even saw a random castle on top of a hill, but that's not unusual in Spain, especially as you go further north. As we drove closer to Granada this GIANT mountain comes out of nowhere... covered in snow. We all unanimously said how much we missed the rockies. When we got to the city we immediately found some cabs, and headed to our second hostel. Between 3 or 4 people, cab rides were like $2 each. It turned out that the hostel we booked was in the Bermuda Triangle or something because the cab driver had no idea where the street was. We eventually did find it, after walking up and down the same street for 20 minutes. It was an unexpected surprise to see that our hostel was in fact not a hostel, but a floor that the owner must rent out on weekends. So we had a full apartment, with a living room, kitchen, etc. Our day in Granada was basically just a shopping day, all of us definitely put a good dent in our credit cards. With the mountain in the background it felt like we were in the Alps or something crazy like that. We initially planned to go out that night but it was so cold outside, we bought a couple bottles of wine and ordered some good old Domino's pizza. Proof that we were in the Bermuda Triangle.... when the pizza guy finally showed up he said he had no idea that place even existed.


Granada is famous for its Alhambra, or "fortress" built by the Moors back in the day. One of the girls (Andrea) had already been there, and I won a trip for March to go see it, so both of us decided it would be redundant to go again. While the other girls went to the Alhambra on Sunday, Andrea and I took a train to another town called Ronda. We were up and out of the apartment by 6 to catch the 6:50 train, and by 9:30 we were pulling up into the town. I really had no idea what to expect or anything because it was Andrea who planned it all and I just kind of tagged along. Ronda is basically the Spanish equivalent of Banff. Its a small town, you can walk anywhere. So we're exploring, find a fountain covered in icicles (proof that its cold here), then we find a sweet-looking bridge. No big deal, this bridge is like a million years old, massive, and in the middle of these CLIFFS that the town is built on. I still cannot get over how amazing it was. I have never seen anything like that before, and for some reason it reminded me of Lord of the Rings. Hands down, one of my favourite places so far.


We got back into Sevilla at around 2:30, and its so nice to be back "home" in "my" bed with all my stuff. After almost a month here I'm starting to feel less like a guest in the house. And the travel bug has bitten.... But at the same time... I miss steak, and central heating.