Socialism

Just returned to Valencia after another string of epic travels. I got back home on Thursday morning after spending a dreadful night in the Barajas Aeropuerto, and then spent the proceeding 24 hours in hermitude studying for my Controls exam. Finally now, a chance to reflect on the past two weeks, and the (less than) two weeks to come.

Sitting at a café with my two favorite Scandinavians today sparked some thought on the trip I took to Norway and Sweden; how shockingly similar these two countries are, how incredibly stable their government-controlled society seems, and how much happiness socialism brings to their citizens.

Norway and Sweden are probably two of the most sparsely populated countries in Europe. Not many people live there, I think combined there are less than 13 million people (less than the population of Pennsylvania). Their languages are similar enough to be mutually understood and neither country is on the Euro. Also did I mention the cost of living is ridiculously high there? Probably the highest in the EU, although I'm positive that Oslo is. Anyways, these countries have a pretty different way of running things. It's called socialism.

It seems nice. Education is paid for. Heathcare as well. No person goes without the basic necessities of life such as food, water, and a place to live. Those with jobs get government-mandated salary bonuses and one month of vacation time per year. Those without jobs receive a livable stipend from the government until they find one. The standard of living is level for all.

However, the downside can be cause for concern: taxes up the wazoo. It's like a giant piggybank that takes money from everybody and sends it back in a steady stream, in social programs and welfare. While nobody is poor, nobody is rich. Simply because the rich can't afford to stay rich. Most people live a decent lifestyle. The average. The standard.

What are they missing out on? Is it the American Dream that drives us all to be so fickle with our hard-earned dollars? To deny some access to fundamental services, like healthcare and food? Or need we explain how it is only just to reap what you sow, because the wealthy deserve luxury just as the impoverished deserve destitution? Perhaps our ladder remains unclimbable. Perhaps it's good we have a ladder at all.

Maybe one day I'll move to Norway to get rich and come home.

Proof of Norway's ridiculous wealth:

Quick blogsauce because otherwise I am never ever ever gonna get around to it...

....I WENT TO SWEDEN AND NORWAY!!!!

Norway: the most expensive place I have ever ever been. A coffee is about 34 Norwegian Kroner which is over FIVE DOLLARS! Also, a big mac costs 98 kroner which is $14.64! For a BIG MAC! it was crazy. But besides Norway being a giant money-sucking hole where only really rich people live, it was a beautiful country and I am definitely going to go back some day to visit my norwegian friend Fez and see some magnificent fjords on the western coast. If you don't know what a fjord is, you must read this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fjord

...and look at the following fotos:


http://www.flickr.com/photos/v1r4l/3438079091/in/set-72157618196265276/

Anyways, we stayed right near the fjord and visited Oslo which is a beautiful city. Also THE most expensive city in the world (this is not an exaggeration). Nevertheless, we had a great time there and got to see some true Norwegian beauty in the fjord that Oslo is built around. Norwegians are very friendly and have an impressive grasp of English. We were welcomed by natives willing to help around every corner. Norway is a sweet country.

Next, we went to SWEDEN! I got to experience the true country lifestyle by staying with my roommate Agnes at her parent's 200-year-old house in the beautiful Swedish countryside. Between towns and a few hours away from Stockholm, the scenery is breathtaking. Her parents own a cheese farm! Needless to say, we were all fed well and had an incredible time playing in the nature.

We also visited STOCKHOLM! Having never been destroyed before, the old town of Stockholm was built in the mid-1200s. Walking around was incredible (promise fotos later) and the vibe of the city is something quite unique. We were able to hang out with three AUTHENTIC Swedes, Agnes being one of them of course, and also two Stockholm-native friends of hers who showed us around the network of islands Stockholm is built upon.

This trip opened my eyes to a new part of Europe, Scandinavia, which I will definitely make time to come back in the future. A whole different culture and centuries of history exist in the Nordic countries, accompanied by unique geological phenomena (Northern Lights and fjords which I am obsessed with) and the famous midnight sun, a bit of it which I got to see (it was still light at midnight!). Plus Scandinavian languages are absolutely crazy. My vocabulary now includes the ability to say "Hej", "How are you", and count to 29 in Swedish. Poco a poco I suppose.

Tomorrow: I fly to Prague! Going to "Czech out" Prague, Vienna and Budapest until the June 17th. Then, just one exam and 12 days left in Valencia before I return to the states. I'm making every second count. The end is near.

Ibiza - Eivissa

Ibiza - A proper shitshow.

Our 185-euro Erasmus trip united over 400 students from our university alone, along with thousands of other students studying abroad in Spain for a 6-day 5-night vacation on the most famed party island in the world. And this, my amigos, is where I finally see where Spain gets their party style from.

Daily life went something like this: drink until the wee hours of the morning, see the sunrise, crash for a few hours, nap by the pool, play some volley-playa, drink through the afternoon hours, dance in discotecas, rewind and repeat. The trip was a great time with so many friends. Here are the highlights:

• We ferry across a hundred miles in style: by cruise ship, many stories tall complete with movie theater, swimming pools on the top deck, private DJ, game rooms, bars and dancefloors. Never had I been to a club on the deck of a ship in the middle of the mediterranean! An unforgettable night.
• PACHA, one of the most famous clubs in the world, and quite what Ibiza is known for. House and techno filled the night (which cost me a 22-euro entry ticket, by the way) and I successfully dodged paying 8 euro for a water (a sad trap which caught a few friends). Needless to say, the partying didn't end until the morning began.
• SPACE & Es Paradis, both well-known megaclubs in Ibiza. The Erasmus trip had its own private parties at these discotecas, the one at Es Paradis being the famed Water Party. At a record breaking hour of 8am, we left Es Paradis, a good hour and a half after sunrise.
• Formentera, an untouched island just south of Ibiza. We took a short cruise around the island, got a chance to swim out to some deserted rocks, and partied on the clear-bottom boat. Just clear blue waters, white sand and the sun.
• Our small shitty apartments. Sometimes the lights wouldn't work, and the plethora of cooking tools/utensils/cleaning supplies seemed to be scattered about the complex. But our 6 days there included hollering from balcony to balcony, napping in the sun, grabbing cafés and cheap burgers at the bar and dancing by the pool. Living with these friends could never get old.

A week of house music and partying deserved a week of chill-time. The picasa has been updated, if anyone wants to check out some fotos from Ibiza:

Ibiza, Balearic Islands

Now after relaxing for a week, it's time to crank out 3 papers, a project, and 2 presentations. Four months and three weeks of vacation with one week of academic hermitude? I can dig it.

I am behind on life.

There's just something in the Spanish/Valencian air that inspires lackadaisical relaxation. A carelessness falls upon me each time I attempt something productive, may it be studying some Spanish or starting my final assignments for my classes. Nevertheless, it is in my attention that the end is near (or drawing near at least).

In an attempt to summarize my travels and grasp the memories throughout my three weeks of vacation, I'll condense my adventures into abbreviated descriptions of each city. I am truly blessed to have had such a positive experience in each new city.

I can start in good ol' España:
Valencia: Departing home, I realize Spanish culture has gotten the best of me. After spending a rather difficult few hours condensing two weeks of stuff into one backpack, Andrew and I are running late to the airport (big surprise) and take a cab.

Then, Italy!
Milan: Visiting our fellow Terrapins Vince and Jess, we were fortunate to have great personal tour guides to Milan and Lake Como as well. Famous for fashion and the third largest cathedral in the world, Milan is a a bustling center of commerce. Our three day stay was well spent sightseeing, taking a day trip to Como, and catching up with our homedogs.


Venice: The beauty simply cannot be described in words. The entire city floats on water, with dozens of bridges connecting over 100 islands. Spending a day in Venice is like spending a day in a 13th-century Italy. The essence of the city can only be absorbed by aimless wanderings about winding footpaths. As touristy sightseeing found its way to the back burner, we took our time enjoying the unique beauty of this one-of-a-kind city.


Florence: Nestled in the Tuscan countryside, this city is small but rich in culture and art. The Duomo in Florence, detailed yet colorful, is by far my favorite cathedral of the my trip. Olive groves and sunflower fields dot the mountains around the valley in which Florence rests, making the hours on the regional trains pleasantly passed. We met up with the rest of our travel buddies, Allison, Caitlin and Catherine.


Cinque Terre: A string of five old towns located on the steep cliffs of the Italian Riviera, Cinque Terre is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Inaccessible by car or bus, one train runs through the lower coast connecting each town; you must hike the rest! Breathtaking views made me want to stay here for years.


Bologna: A novel city for me, as I had my first couchsurfing experience here. Famous for the food and the oldest university in the world, Bologna's unique covered streets offer a quaint and old-town feeling, all the while boasting a very healthy "botéllon" culture similar with the Spanish youth.

Back to Spain for a day, then off to Morocco! In transit, a night spent at the Madrid airport definitely sharpened my packing list and boosted my ability to sleep on benches.
Tanger: Quite developed, the port city offers a modern medina, great view of Africa AND Europe, and appears as a central for commerce. Also it is quite connected to the world, as 270 Dirham got us to Marrakech via a comfortable overnight train.

Marrakech: With a busy bustling medina, shops and vendors everywhere, Moroccan culture is at great display here. The main plaza Djemma el Fna is littered with fresh orange juice carts, snake charmers, spice vendors, and every Moroccan-made item you could imagine. Horse-drawn carriages cart tourists through the medina around beautiful mosques and castle ruins. At night, the plaza turns into a fiesta; street food, lamp vendors, performers and musicians make sure Marrakech doesn't sleep early. By far the busiest destination in my whole trip.

Atlas Mountains & Sahara Desert: A day was spent hiking the Atlas Mountains from a small town in the Ourika Valley. The views were breathtaking, and we were lucky to have a great guide, taking us deep through the range to the top of the mountains. The next day was spent driving through the mountains, stopping in Ouarzazate and finally arriving at Zagora, just north of the Sahara desert. Riding camels through the dunes was certainly an experience and sleeping in tents under the stars was a once in a lifetime experience. Never have I seen such a clear sky bright with stars.

Finally, after returning to Madrid, we head to Portugal:
Porto: A beautiful city on a river and the western European coast, Porto is famous for Port wine of course! It was incredible touring local wineries and wandering about the steep streets of old-town Porto. The city from the high bridge at night was one of the best views I've seen so far. We had a great time experiencing the wine, the food, and best of all, the hospitality of the Portuguese, who seemed to understand English perfectly (although we found it a great opportunity to practice our Spanish).


My first tour of Europe was more than I could ask for. What a marvellous continent!

A Travel Summary

Finally. It feels great to be back in Valencia, and even greater to have unlimited internet access and a normal food diet. However, the past three weeks of traveling have been an exciting, entertaining, and eye-opening experience. Our crazy week of Las Fallas was proceeded by 4 days of class, then: Semana Santa the week of March 29th, Spring Holiday the week of April 6th, and "Midterm" Week (although we had none) was this past week of April 11th. With all of this free time, Europe was just begging for a visit from me. I had to oblige. Having booked Ryanair tickets rapidly and impulsively, most plans weren't quite finalized until the last minute. So here is the timeline of what actually went down in my life:

March 26-29, Milan
March 29-31, Venice
April 1-2, Cinque Terre
April 2-3, Florence
April 3-5, Bologna
April 5, Valencia
April 6, Madrid
April 7, Tanger
April 8-10, Marrakech
April 10-11, Zagora/Sahara Desert
April 12, Madrid
April 13-15, Porto

My journey is depicted below.


View Spring Break 2010 in a larger map


Four countries and three weeks later, I returned with countless stories, thousands of photos, and incredible experience on traveling Europe/North Africa. I'll eventually get around to making dedicated posts to each country I visited but for now, my photos say it all: http://picasaweb.google.com/amy.j.zhou

The agenda for this week: despierta, levanta, y va a la playa!

Bullfighting

This past week, many new things were unfolding in Valencia. The beginning of primavera (spring), the unveiling of the fallas, and the commencement of the bullfighting season. The corrida de toros, bullfight, has been a tradition in Spain for centuries. Not knowing much about the event or the history behind it, I decided to check one out with an open mind. Needless to say, the three-hour event left an intense curiosity about the tradition, its cultural relevance, and the fierce debate surrounding it.

Bullfighting started as a small tradition of competition between knights in Medieval Spain. The Iberian bull is known to be the fiercest animal of the wilderness surrounding the battlefields in Spain. Often weighing over 1200 pounds (600 kilos!) and having a provocative anger, they were seen as a noble animal to fight and when beaten, brought the challenger praise and honor. The tradition spread and since then, blossomed into a form of artistic entertainment.

So what exactly happens in a bullfight? There are three matadors, killers, in each fight, and each matador fights two bulls. A corrida is separated into three tercios, each setting the bull up to a different challenge.

First, in the tercio de varas, the lancing third, the bull faces a lance on horseback dressed in armor. As the bull charges, the lance stabs a long spear into the bull's neck, causing the first open wound.

 Tercio de Varas

The next part is the tercio de banderillas, third of flags, where banderillos plant two barbed batons into the bull's back.

Tercio de Banderillas

The final stage is the tercio de muerte, or third of death. This is when the matador enters the ring and fights the bull with a red cape. The bull charges closely past the matador many times, becoming more and more enraged at its taunter. 

Finally, at the end of the stage. the matador thrusts a long sword into a specific spot through the spine of the bull and pierces the heart. At this moment, if done correctly, the bull will soon fall.

The Crippling Blow, or Estocata

For each matador, two bulls are slaughtered. Each fight, six bulls die. In a week, over 50 bulls are killed, and in one season, hundreds. Where does the dead bull go? Immediately after its execution, the bull is dragged across the street to a butcher's and made into top-quality steak right away. Six half-ton animals must provide a lot of steak.

The main animal rights issue focuses on the torturous killing of each animal. Bred to be large and strong, these bulls spend their lives being trained to fight. Over a half an hour, the bull is pierced seven times, facing numerous taunting matadors, made to run throughout the entire stadium while losing blood, and finally killed in a spectacle for entertainment. Bullfighting as a blood sport has already been banned in most countries, including the U.S., and faces controversy all over Europe.

As an art, however, the bullfight seems like a dance between a man and a beast. The matador must be skilled enough to have a steady stance and move fluidly to please the crowd. He must move the cape in a sweeping motion, just enough to draw attention from his body, while directing the bulls charging past inches away from his torsos. Fear has to be put away, as a bull would readily impale a shuddering man; instead, the matador looks into its eyes and holds dominance over the beast with human intelligence and grace.

Humane or not, the spectacle was interesting to say the least, and I'm glad I attended and learned just one more thing about this crazy country and the history of the people who live here.

The Mid-Fallas Post

It is now Wednesday morning, 4:17 am, and I finally have a chance for a quick update.

What is Las Fallas? Las Fallas literally means "The Fires" in Valencian. The five-day festival is centered around each neighborhood or plaza creating its own ninots, together which make over 350 statues constructed with paper mache and plaster. Each day of the week has its own purpose to either set up, commemorate, celebrate, or burn the building-sized creations. Also, every day processes in a similar schedule:

08:00 - La Despertà: The Wake-Up Call. A parade of fireworks accompany a brass band while marching through the city, creating incredibly noise to rouse the city.

14:00 - La Mascletà: Sound Fireworks, aka Deafening Explosions. Each day since March 1st, there is a daily ritual of a sound fireworks show in the Plaza Ayuntamiento. Instead of it being a display of color, it is a display the sound. The fireworks are set off rhythmically to sound like "music" and reach incredible earth-shaking volume. Every day shows the work of a different pyrotecnic while thousands of people gather to see and hear it, often offering roaring applause to the best and the loudest.

01:00 - Castillo de Fuegos Artificiales, the Castle of Fireworks. Every day of the week, a firework show is performed after midnight in the riverbed Turia.

Among this daily routine, the days lead up to the eventual peak: La Cremà. On Friday, March 19th, every falles except for the best one will be filled with explosives and lit on fire. The streets will then become open-air nightclubs, as all of the residents of Valencia pour outside to celebrate the cremation of the statues.

So far, there are explosions everywhere. Firecrackers are handed to small children like candy, and massive booms have nearly become normal. As part of Spanish cultural exploration, we saw a bullfight at the Plaza del Toros, ate churros con chocolat while sipping horchata, and threw a couple fireworks ourselved. At night before the firework shows, we walk around the city centro through avenues adorned with hundreds of thousands of lights. The entire city shuts down; people don't work, students don't have class, everybody is just happy throwing firecrackers at each other and enjoying the crazy festival. To say the least, Las Fallas is a shitshow. After going hard for the past week already, my night is relatively early (before sunrise) and trying to rest up for the few crazy days to come.

Back from Barça

So a semi-uneventful week ended with an extremely eventful weekend!

I spent the most of last week being enferma (sick). I've still got a bit of a cough left over but the most of last week was going to class, sleeping a lot, and enjoying the beautiful weather (sunny, 70, with a bit of wind).

But on Friday morning, we embarked via hella-expensive Renfe train to Barcelona! Just another dingy hostel, but what a beautiful ciudad (city)! First of all, not knowing Spanish is enough. But in Barcelona, Catalan is spoken everywhere. From appearance, it looks like a mash-up of Spanish, French, and Italian. Spoken, it's uninterpretable. While the language is interesting, the city streets are even more of a wonder. The carrers (street in Catalan) are littered with incredible Gaudi architecture. We visited Gaudi's masterpiece, the Sagrada Familia. The enormous cathedral, conceptualized over 130 years ago, is one of the most unique buildings I have ever seen.

Among other touristy things we did, my favorite was climbing to the highest point in the city, the top of a big hill in Park Guell. The 360 degree view from the top was more than I have ever seen before, and the photos don't do it justice.

 Among amazing sights, there was also amazing food. We walked through a market, had the best gelato of our lives, and feasted on the sights of fresh fruits and delicate chocolates throughout.

On Saturday night, we all gathered for a mini-botéllon in a nearby park and headed to Camp Nou, the largest fùtbol stadium in Europe belonging to the best team in the world, having held the winning La Liga title for 3 years and the Champions League for last season, FC Barcelona. We got the worst seats but still had an incredible view to the Barcelona v. Málaga game. Barcelona won, 2-1. Amazing stadium, amazing victory. Go Barça!

Besides the incredible sights, we did endure a few bumps along the way. Our hostel, despite the incredible location along Passeig de Gracia, was absolutely shit. They only had bedding and towels for an extra charge, and stacked twelve beds in each large but drafty room. Needless to say, we spent most of the night out on the clubbing avenue La Rambla or climbing up to the top of Park Guell for a midnight view of the city. Also as Barcelona is well known for the pickpockets, a few members of our large group were robbed. They catch you off guard, appear to be friendly and strike good conversation with you in English. They ask where you're from, try to relate to whatever place and distract you for a good time to reach into your back pocket and take your belongings. For anyone who wants to visit Barcelona, beware the pickpockets.

So far since I've been back, it has been the start of something new in Valencia: Las Fallas! The festivities started on February 28th, and go all the way until March 19th. Every day, there is a marching band wakeup call to the city at 8am. There is also a daily enormous fireworks display which they call La Mascleta, occuring unusually promptly at 2pm. The fireworks are incredibly loud, reaching up to 120 decibels, and thousands of people gather every day to see and hear the commotion.

As Fallas draws closer and closer. the streets are starting to light up with signs and decorations. I look forward to March 15th when all the falles (constructed statues) are finished, and the 19th when all but one are burned in the ceremony called La Cremà.

Hasta luego!

"Mañana..."

So it is the end of my third week and the start of my fourth week in this amazing country. The biggest thing I have learned since my descent in Europe: picking up a language from scratch is NOT easy. I spend most of my days surrounded by some sort of American or English influence. The television channels often have American TV shows (LOST, Simpsons, Man vs. Wild, etc) and many people here speak enough English to accommodate my lack of ability. The concept is strange since in America, foreigners are often scorned and ignored because they "can't speak our language". Yet, as I travel about places with thousands of years of history and language, I'm eagerly greeted with my own language and welcomed by Spaniards yearning to learn more of what plainly isn't theirs. Needless to say, I'm trying my best to learn their language with as much diligence as they have learned ours.

Moreover, the Spanish seem to operate in an extremely relaxed way. Requirements for courses are an incredible contrast to the harsh torture that James A. Clark School of Engineering calls education. First of all, the focus of each class is very abstract. No homework, no tests, no grades, just pure knowledge. One class, Physical Concepts, is a philosophical discussion on the existence of physics. Our Einstein-look-alike professor spent his first transcendental lectures on the existence of energy. As schoolwork is incredibly rare, I have enjoyed adjusting to the mandatory daily routine which includes a three-hour-long siesta.

From the Spanish lifestyle, we can coin the term "Mañana." To anybody educated with a semester or two in Spanish, or for anybody equipped with Google Translator, this word simply means "tomorrow". But here, "mañana" exemplifies the greatest outcome of Spanish lifestyle. Relaxation feeding procrastination. To say "mañana" and to be "mañana", you are doing what every one of us has been cautioned against our entire lives: procrastinating. But "mañana" in Spain is perfectly acceptable. It may be mañana in registering for courses, or mañana while buying tickets for a movie. Even mañana in skipping class as a teacher (true story). Mañana mañana mañana.

As the Spanish say, "tranquiloooo". It literally means chill. So what if something doesn't get done TODAY, there is always mañana. In Spain, the important things are appreciated: great food, great weather, and fantastic company wherever you go.

Hasta luego!

(And some photo peeks)

MTV Winter Valencia

 

America's Cup, an international sailing competition. America brought the Cup back home!

City of the Arts and Sciences

Wine-tasting and Tapas

Oceanográfic - the largest oceanography aquarium in Europe

Livin' the life.

This past week I've just been taking my time getting situated in the piso, learning my way around the area, checking out the local bars & clubs, and feeling and eating all the great Valencian comida y vino. This week we also started escuela, and despite having such few classes, finding each one was a backbreaking task. There's actually no place online or in the school to check where the class is. You either wander around the building you THINK it's in, or frantically hop from information desk to information desk, looking for an English speaker.

Actual proof that the Oficina Internacional is only open for an average of 2.5 hours a day. We FINALLY got our paperwork in after going in every day for about a week. We have yet to receive our student cards, but at least the hard part is over.

Botéllon... early-ish on (about midnight)...

Botéllon an hour later:

It's really just a big party outside. THOUSANDS of young people, erasmus and Spanish locals gather on this block and drink till dawn.

Paco comes over every Monday and Friday, always bringing some delicious Valencian cuisine. This week, it is Lara's birthday, so he whips out the paella!

Paella de pollo conejo (paella with chicken and rabbit... sorry wellie!!)

Happy birthday to Lara, our Spanish roommate & Paco's daughter!

El Piso de Paco

Buenas dias! we just moved into a piso situated right outside of our universidad, owned by a guy named Paco. The search was long and taxing; we looked through hundreds of ads and visited 6 in person. We finally found a place super close to the university, right off the block of the main bar street, Avenida de Blasco Ibañez, living with three other international estudiantes. Paco welcomed us with a homecooked meal: Spanish steak with potatoes, goat cheese, and fruit marmalade. One of the girls is Paco's daughter, who speaks only Spanish and helps us along with the language.

We're right down the block from a square where Botellón takes place. Botellón is a Spanish traditional nightlife practice of buying alcohol from the supermarkets (before 10pm, per law) and drinking outside in plazas. Yesterday there were hundreds of people outside! Spain's relaxed lifestyle is starting to grow on me. Today I woke up at 10, ate a meal, walked around outside, ate another meal, hung out with mike & andrew, ate another meal, and now it's just about the right time for siesta before my 4th and last meal.

Also something rather inconvenient: the Spanish don't seem to work much. Especially at the international office at school, where we need to get our paperwork filed. In fact, they only seem to work two hours a day (4 hours on tuesdays and thursdays). Not to mention, just about everything is closed between the hours of 2 and 6, which is why we are relaxing in these lengthy four hours. No complaints though, the Spanish are incredibly laid back. I could get the hang of this.

Now it's time for siesta. Adios, hasta luego!

Valencia at last!

Finally. Finally finally, I have arrived at Valencia.

A breakdown of my travels so far:

January 31st

7pm BWI: Say goodbye to loved ones. Meet Michael at the airport. Endure a whopping ten minutes of security.

9pm BWI: Board our flight to Valencia! Scratch that. Board our flight to London. We embark on leg 1 of our journey. There is free wine and beer, it can't be so bad.

February 1st

Somewhere in the central Atlantic time-space continuum: A seat uncomfortable enough to keep me from the 7 hours of sleep I should have had.

9am LONDON: At last we land. We are exhausted, but London is great! There are signs forbidding "sharps" and trams that drive on the left of the road. Our stay in London goes like this: Get off the airplane. Get on a tram. Get off at a terminal. Walk to a different terminal. Get on a tram. Get off at a gate. Walk to a waiting area. Walk to another gate. Get on a tram. Arrive at our plane.

3pm BARCELONA: ESPANA at last!! We repeat our procedure in London... This seems to be common. Our plane parks in a seemingly random spot in the center of a runway; we board a tram which repeats the process. We recheck a few bags. We leave for Valencia.

6pm VALENCIA!!: It is gorgeous and sunny! I practice my Spanish: Donde esta el taxi??? 20 Euros later, we arrive at the Purple Nest Hostel. A few hours are spent wandering the city. After incredible difficulties navigating (we speak 2% Espanol, 98% Ingles), we return with a working phone, some paella, and unfortunately no cervezas. Turns out Valencia doesn't sell alcohol from stores after 10pm. It's ok; we find canned Heineken from the friendly hostel vending machine. After a few with some new traveling friends, it's a night.

February 2nd:

10am: Awaken, eat nutella on bread, and gather our bearings. The goal: depart Purple Nest at 11am, arrive at UPV around 11:45, sit down in orientation at noon. The reality: depart Purple Nest at 11am, get distracted by a concrete wall crashing from the top of a 20-story building, arrive UPV around noon, walk to the wrong building, finally sit down at orientation about 35 minutes fashionably late.

1pm: We receive more information in the preceding 25 minutes than in our entire fall semester preparing for this. We meet up with fellow Terrapins, Joey and Hannah and grab some salad. We then visit TWO more international offices to gather paperwork in preparation for the challenge to come: Registration.

3pm: We find Andrew! He seems proficient in the language. We do quite a bit of exploring the area. The campus is beautiful and there are orange trees everywhere. Valencia feels awesome. Andrew is kind enough to help us along in finding a piso (apartment/flat). After a few calls and texts, we realize that it is not so easy. Stuttering out "Habla Ingles?" is challenging and mostly invites responses of "Poco, poco" or straight up "No". Our search returns no feasible options. We return to the nest.

6pm: Shit, it's already 6? We missed all of siesta! So in Valencia and probably all of Spain, the locals like to engage in the sport of siesta, extreme napping, which occurs inevitably daily from around 2pm to 4pm or 5pm. This explains their daily routine of two mid-day meals, dinner around 10pm, and waiting until 1am to hit the club. We have been doing it all wrong this entire time. We're still American.

8pm: We successfully make it to the supermarcado! A few interesting things about Spanish grocery stores: they do not refrigerate eggs or milk. They do not sell soup. They do not refrigerate large smoked legs of ham and meats. And it is possible to purchase a 6-pack of longneck bottles for 1,25 euro. That is about $0.25 a bottle. And it's better than Natty. I conjure up a forged statement of Health Insurance coverage, as they can’t seem to understand that we are covered indefinitely as students, and we hang in the commonroom.

February 3rd

1:39am: I await the premier of LOST. Sadly, I don't think I'll be seeing it tonight. Unless there are any volunteers to Skype me the 3 hour special. ...Anybody?

la joie de vivre

This saying, la joie de vivre, is what Professor Rym Kaki described to our small class as "the Tunisian way of life". Translated, it means the joy of life or living. Tunisia, despite being a small developing country, was to me a beautiful place with a different way of life. Rules were not so enforced, people were friendly and hospitable (when they weren't skeezy Tunisian men), and all the food was fresh and delicious. Tunisia strikes me as having a great deal of potential. Despite being a non-oil drilling country and 40% of its land belonging to the barren Sahara Desert, Tunisia is rich in agriculture and able to export a great deal of production to France and other European countries. Tunisia also boasts an incredibly educated workforce, considering they have invested heavily in higher education in the last fifty years. It has certainly paid off for them, as a high number of engineering and scientific development countries have invested in production and design from Tunisian labor. Last of all which I find enamoring is that Tunisia is the most peaceful country in the MENA region. They only devote a few percent of their national budget to developing armed forces.

Anyways, my two weeks there was well spent and I wish I could have further explored that region of the earth. Hopefully during my semester in Spain I'll be able to visit Morocco and possibly Egypt.

a few teasers along the journey...

Here's the beautiful Mediterranean beaches of Carthage!

This is the Medina, where our hostel was nestled in a little avenue called Rue Saida Ajoula. These souks line the main streets of the medina.


This is just a capture of a necklace stand in the medina. I figure drea would appreciate this one.


This is the foyer of the hostel we stayed at. It was truly gorgeous, with a 3-story ceiling and mosaic everywhere.

ahhhhh, tunis.

It has been a great eventful week since I landed in Tunisia nearly one week ago. The voyage was long, with a few hours in Paris (I just had to purchase an 8 euro baguette), and finally landing in Tunis meeting Noor and Mohammad. What a grand surprise it was to step into our hostel! It was like an old palace with mosaic everywhere, tiled walls an floors, intricate artifacts decorating each wall. The main area was a foyer like the foyer of a castle. It was bright and beautiful and nested in the windy roads of the Medina. Despite getting lost over and over, the location was perfect for shopping, chilling, and drinking mint tea with some shisha.

Some interesting things about Tunisia however:

• it is cold to my dismay! gets down to like the 50s and 40s at night, and in the medina there was no heat. and i packed no sweatpants. Hence, my cold and sinus congestion right now. This will be a reminder to me for packing in the future.
• There are stray cats everywhere! and garbage. The streets are littered with it. Every couple of feet, another pile of garbage and another couple of stray cats. I think I see 100 a day. That is not an exaggeration.
• Shawarma! This delicious mysterous meat that comes in sandwiches with some mayo and sauces and the best, FRENCH FRIES in your sandwich! Schquita's Shawarma will be open soon.
• Men vs. Women. Men seem to win. With catcalls, and a sstreet full of men at almost all hours of the day, women are rather soft spoken here compared with Europe and the States. However, progress is being made and many women are branching into the workfield. Men still treat us tourist women like we're so easy though.
  
• TUNISIAN DINAR. 1,298 dinar = 1 dollar. but 1,000 dinar=1 dinar, and ,500 dinar= .5 dinar. In the end we just say three comma fivehundred for a shawarma and a fanta.

The trip so far has been eventful! Every day with Dash, our nonchalant professor, is packed with activities, and a few hours of boring class. Yesterday was a day spent in the Mediterranean Sea-side blue and white town of Sidi Bou Said, which our group has affectionately dubbed "The Bou". The shopping there is great and villas line every street. Yet every day has a few painful hours of lecturing, just a reminder of semesters gone by and previous lectures skipped. A small price to pay though, in this unique city.