Hot and Cold

Can someone tell me where October went?  Without real seasons I’m finding it easy to lose track of the date. Last year at Colby we got our first snow of the season on Halloween. I’ve been here almost two months and I have yet to be rained on (except that it’s starting to drizzle right now as I write this). How the tables have turned. Rain has been in the forecast here all week but I’ve only seen sunshine. Guess you can’t trust weathermen in any language.

Just got back from Sevilla on Sunday night. It was great to see my friends again, make some awesome new ones and also get a taste of what Andalucía has to offer. My flight to Sevilla on Thursday got delayed about an hour so I got in at around 1am on Friday morning. Met up with my friends shortly after and swiftly got rejected from the club for wearing shorts. Classic. Not a problem though, we ended up having a good time throwing ambiguous citruses (look like limes, taste like lemons, but we’re told they’re oranges) into the river. Once the arm pain outweighed the fun of fruit launching we proceeded to a 24 hour churros y chocolate stand on the side of the road. After eating roughly 18.3x more churros than are recommended by the surgeon general of Spain, we finally walked back to our respective places of residence (mine being a very nice hostel). After about 1.5 hours of sleep my alarm went off at 7:45. Remembering the brilliant words, “I can sleep when I die” of rapper ‘Young Jeezy’, I made my way to the bus station and got on the 9:30 to Granada, another popular Southern Spanish city. Mesmerized by the sea of olive trees, I quickly passed out for the entirety of the 3 hour trip. I got off the bus with no idea what I was going to do so I talked to a really nice girl at the information desk for a good 20 mins (all Spanish; winning). She highly recommended that I buy a ticket for a two-hour walking tour around the city, so I obliged. Before the tour I had time to enjoy the unique feature of Granada. That is, I ordered a drink at a café and received a free tapa (I got a small portion of paella). I proceeded to the tour, which ended up being in English because my companions were a group of Australians and a group of Irish tourists. I didn’t have the time nor required ticket to see the Alhambra (the most famous attraction of Southern Spain) but the walking tour was a nice way to see the city and get a few different views of the Alhambra from afar. After four hours in Granada, I took the bus back to Sevilla. Got in around 7:30, met my friend and we walked around the city for a little bit. Another late night ensued (which, if you haven’t realized yet, is the norm in Spain) but we still all managed to wake up and meet at 10am on Saturday morning.

All day Saturday was a tour of Sevilla. We went to the cathedral, alcazar, the historic university, and even rented a 4-person bicycle thing in the park. Nothing better than being a classic American tourist. After a quality day of touring and a much needed siesta, we rendezvoused for dinner then enjoyed the rio the way the Spaniards do (ambiguous beverage in hand). Learning my lesson from night numero uno, my decision to wear pants paid off when we gained admission to a club for a birthday party of a girl in the same CIEE group as my friends. It was refreshing to see so many Americans (probably about 60) in one place. A sight that has gone unseen for a significant period of time.

Another short night of sleep later, it was already Sunday and we were congregating at the hostel to head over to a Real Betis soccer (futból) game. We got to the stadium without tickets, and while trying to find the ticket office, we were accosted by a scalper. We bargained with him for a while, exchanging concerned looks with each other during the entire process but eventually ended up buying tickets from the guy. I would define the proceeding events as being “borderline hustled” by this mystery hombre because after paying him we were soon let into a specific area of the stadium with plastic cards (which the scalper then took with him). Once in, our only option was to walk up, and so we did. All the way up. Atop the stadium, we felt as if we were playing FIFA. A perfect view of the entire green field below, we found a row of seats at random and sat. After being kicked out of these, we found another row and thankfully didn’t get questioned again. Not the greatest seats, but a true (and my first) Spanish soccer experience. Our section of fans seemed to be the working class locals, who were a lot of fun to be with. Songs, angry rants at the ref, and utter despair when Betis got scored on provided us a whirlwind of emotion that you just don’t get at baseball games in the U.S. Betis ended up losing 2-0, but as much as we pretended to be as distraught as the rest of our section, we really didn’t care. Our day (and my trip) ended with a very good lunch at a tapas restaurant. It rained briefly while we were there but our giant plate of patatas bravas eased the pain of our first run-in with inclement weather. We left and it was magically sunny again. A few hours passed and it was time to return to Palma. A sad goodbye to a great weekend, but a happy hello to Palma.

This wouldn’t be “Mallorcan Mensajes” if there weren’t a mensaje, so here it goes. Sevilla was a lot of fun and my friends are really happy there, which is always good to see. They have a big group of nice people and there’s always someone to call or text to find something going on. I don’t have this, (and I’ve made a big deal of it in my past posts) but when I was walking home from the bus stop along the water on Sunday night, I felt at home for the first time. There’s something about the fresh ocean breeze, the sight of the port in the distance and the illuminated cathedral that I’ve really taken for granted up until this point. Sevilla has a lot going for it, and I wouldn’t mind a semester there, but coming back to Palma reminded me of the reasons why I chose this program. I came for the small city and the island lifestyle, and even if the rest is not exactly what I expected, I’m starting to appreciate it more. It’s about time; I have less than two months left.

In other news, I just realized that if I skip one day of classes in December I have a 10 day break, but being the good student that I am, I decided that I’m going to skip two days to make it an 11 day break. This is unconfirmed, but I’m definitely doing the 10. Paris, London, Venice and possibly one other stop are on the agenda. I just need to find internet fast enough to find some flights. Wicked excited about this discovery. It’ll be a nice last hurrah before returning to Los Estados Unidos. Anyway, that’s all for now. First weekend in a while without exciting plans. Very sad. But my friend who is studying in Milan is here visiting so there’s no way that we won’t find something fun to do. If you’re in New England, enjoy the beginning of winter. I hope the thought of me in a tee shirt and shorts warms your heart. But not really, because I don’t even know what that means. Just be jealous. Until next time.

Matt

Real Alcazar

Sevilla

Tomb of Christopher Columbus

Olive Trees

The Alhambra

Granada

Free Tapa (next to a full beer someone before me had left on the table)

Ladrones = Thieves

Real Betis Game

Escape

I’ve been dreading this day for a while, but it’s finally here. Today, I feel like I could be in Maine. It’s windy, overcast and probably about 55 degrees. Yes, I’m still wearing shorts, a tee shirt, sunglasses and flip-flops but people I passed in the street this morning were wearing winter coats. These people legitimately wouldn’t survive in a climate with real seasons. Regardless, tonight is some kind of courting ritual type thing in Mallorca called “Día de las Vírgenes” where teenage guys get in groups and serenade the girls that they like at their houses. It’s a nice Mallorcan tradition and what’s even nicer is that the girls are essentially obligated to give their serenaders donut type things called “buñuelos” (slightly bigger than Dunkin Donuts munchkins and made with potato dough). How is this relevant to me? Well, I’m glad you asked. Due to the impending holiday, they’re being sold on the street all over Mallorca right now, so I bought ¼ kilo of them (more than ½ pound) and ate them on my way to the University this morning. I didn’t want to eat all of them, but I had to in the name of culture. It’s the same reason why I buy a chocolate filled croissant on my way to class every Monday/Wednesday. 1.) Stimulation of the Spanish economy, 2.) Appreciation of the culinary culture. I’m obviously not just doing it because I’m fat.

Since my last post, my group went on an overnight hiking trip to Soller. Having been in a city for the past month, it was refreshing to be in the mountains. I’m slowly dying of second-hand smoke inhalation here in Palma (everyone smokes) so a mountain escape every once in a while isn’t a bad idea. We stayed in a “Refugee Camp” which was more of a nice hostel situated next to a lighthouse, overlooking the water. I really don’t understand why it’s called a refugee camp. No one there was a refugee (they were mostly German tourists) and I saw no evidence of people camping. There was a place to eat inside, tables outside, a huge room full of bunk beds and pretty nice bathrooms. Apparently it was €11/person so I think I’ll go back at some point.  Soller itself is gorgeous and, believe it or not, I woke up early enough on Sunday morning to see the sun rise over the mountain. At around 10 that morning we left on what was supposed to be a three-hour hike, but it took us a good deal longer. Our “guardian angel”, David, rolled his ankle on the first day’s hike so our Sunday pace was painfully slow. It was fine though. We weren’t in any kind of rush and it gave us time to stop and look around/enjoy the landscape. Given this immense amount of waiting time, at some point on this journey I saw a fruit growing on a giant cactus and thought to myself “that looks delicious. I think I’ll eat it”. So, being the prepared Maine resident that I am, I took out my knife and cut the fruit off of the cactus. I thought that I had managed to break all of the prickers off of the soft exterior of the fruit, but, of course, I hadn’t. Instead I ended up with dozens of hair-sized needles stabbed into my fingertips and another five or six more in my lip. Moral of the story: do not eat cacti or their seemingly (and actually) delicious fruits. You live and you learn.

Speaking of learning, my classes are going well. I have one more this afternoon then I’m done for the week. I’m actually getting on a plane at 10:20 my time and leaving for Sevilla (southern part of Spain) until Sunday. Going to visit some friends in the CIEE program there so it’ll definitely be a good time.

I feel obligated to put some serious commentary into this post so here it goes. After meeting with my intercambio group this week (the one with three girls) I realized to a greater extent how lucky I am to be an American college student at such a distinguished university. They’re all trying to get into study abroad programs so they can study English in either the U.S. or England. However, this is really hard for them to do because they need to coordinate a lot on their own and there are extremely limited scholarship opportunities for studying abroad. Out of the entire University of the Balearic Islands (about 15,000 students), there is one, yes one, scholarship per year given to a student in order to study in the United States. At Colby the percentage of students who study abroad is close to 70% (30ish % of students electing not to go abroad), so we take this kind of opportunity for granted. This is just something that I’ve been thinking about for the last few days.

Sorry this post was so short, but I really don’t have much else to comment on. I’ll post extra pictures to make up for it. Until next time.

Matt

Couldn't resist

Soller Port Sunrise

Soller Port Nightfall

Lighthouse

Refugee Camp

Group minus their photographer

The group

you know you wanted front and back

The beginning of the great decision

Delicious

Abroad Alone

Another week passes and with it, a full month comes to a close.  Am I one month happier? One month sadder? One month better at Spanish? I can’t really answer any of these questions. I can, however, say definitively that I have a month of experiences that most people aren’t lucky enough to have. I’ve traveled to three distinct Spanish regions, visited countless parts of Mallorca and I’ve been immersed into a completely different culture. With two and a half months remaining, I’ll certainly continue to travel, continue to experience the rich culture and as a result, continue to try new things. All of these things are positive and I have no reason to complain even the slightest bit. I like to think of this blog as more of a neutral reflection. Obviously there are positives and negatives that I think about, so please don’t take my mixed emotions the wrong way.

Studying abroad leaves students very vulnerable, a feeling that no young person enjoys. Formerly abroad students glorify their experiences as excuses to party constantly with essentially no rules. I can see this point of view and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t come here expecting, in part, that type of lifestyle. While we’re being honest, I can tell you for a fact that if my good friends were here with me, I would definitely be pursuing the party lifestyle a lot more aggressively than I do alone. There it is: alone. I’m obviously not here by myself but as I’ve commented before, my group of girls isn’t exactly the best of company. Dealing with female drama is neither something I’m used to nor something I enjoy so I try to avoid it without being antisocial. We meet up a few times a week for tapas or drinks and this is almost always a good time. However, with every sip of sangria the situation grows more and more unstable. I won’t bore you with details (they bore me) but the group dynamic has become much like the all-time classic movie “Mean Girls”. They’re all nice on their own, one on one, but when the group is together, sparks fly. On occasion, these sparks ignite a sangria fueled inferno, leaving me to sweep up the ashes later.

Normally, study abroad groups are big enough that friendships are made organically and the small friend groups emerge out of common interests, not obligation. You get the point by now; here it’s different. However, as time has progressed, I no longer see it in such a negative light. Granted, I harp on the fact that I miss my friends, but I’ve come to the conclusion that studying abroad is best done alone.  This sounds absurd, but hear me out. As mythical as studying abroad is perceived to be, in reality, it’s a true taste of the real world. Take away the preconceptions: prior friends in the same program/region (that’s cheating), the party scene, the American ways of life that we take for granted, etc. Take this all away and what do you have? A student living in a new place with a completely new schedule, a new language, and very different customs. It’s all too easy to fall back on a preexisting group of friends and not become truly immersed. Given the opportunity, I would absolutely take this path of least resistance. The right group of people can make any situation enjoyable and I miss the group that does this for me. However, feeling isolated forces and requires a great amount of self discovery, and that is what study abroad is really about. My group will be there for me when I get back and I definitely look forward to our reunion, but for the time being, this is a rare opportunity to explore not only a new location, but also a new definition of myself.

I hate to get this deep on you all but this blog is just as much a diary for me as it is informative/entertaining for you. This past weekend in Barcelona was awesome. I did begin the trip with almost missing my flight, but everything else went a lot more smoothly. I feel obligated to tell the story so here it is:

I had an 8:05 flight from Mallorca to Barcelona. Woke up at 5:45 (after being out until 2) and got on bus #1 (Port-City-Airport bus). I had all of my documents, all of my clothing: everything I needed. It was just my backpack and me so I didn’t need to check any luggage. Got through security problem-free by 7:00am and walked to the other side of the airport to my flight’s section. I was so early that the specific gate wasn’t listed yet so I picked one at random and took out my iPod. I closed my eyes for about 20 minutes, not sleeping but not complete conscious, and upon opening them again my flight was listed on the gate I had chosen at random. Awesome. Nap time round two. After my second round of shut-eye I see the boarding line swing right around to my seat. I simply stood up and I was comfortably in the back of the line. I got to the front of the line at around 7:55, presenting my passport and boarding pass when the ticket checker tells me that I failed to get a stamp on my boarding pass signifying my approval to fly on the airline, Ryanair, as an American citizen. “No fly without this” she said in broken English. “Run”. So, I dropped my bag and ran. I sprinted faster than I had in the last four months. It’s beside the point that I may or may not have been swearing in English the entire time, but no one in the airport could understand so it’s fine. After finding the office in the exact opposite corner of the airport from my gate I got my stamp, weaved my way through the security line, went through security for a second time (I felt double secure) and sprinted back to my gate. After what I would estimate to be about a half mile of running, I got my bag and was the last person on the plane. Dripping with sweat (I’m out of shape) I sat down in the exit row and took until takeoff to catch my breath again. And thus started my trip.

Upon my arrival I bought some fruit salad at the big market and walked down “Las Ramblas” to the port to see some yachts. Later that afternoon I met up with my friend who I was staying with and we ate lunch with his mom who was visiting for the week. We then went to Park Guell, an unfinished housing development designed by Gaudí, and we saw some unbelievable architecture as well as breathtaking views of the entire city of Barcelona and the ocean beyond. Later that night once we made our way to the concert, I met up some good friends that I hadn’t seen since May. The actual event, Sensation, was unbelievable. I know it’s hard to imagine 17,000 people, all dressed in white, dancing to techno (house music) in the ‘92 Olympic stadium, so check out some pictures (below) that I stole from my friends on Facebook. After being at the concert from 9:30pm-5am, we finally left. Two and a half hours of sleep later I was eating breakfast with my friends and at about noon we got on the bus for the airport. The flight home was without incident. After yesterday’s holiday (for Cristobal Colón), I think I’m almost caught up on sleep.

I woke up this morning not feeling too well and I’m definitely struggling a little bit right now. I had my first “intercambio” this morning, which is essentially a group meeting set up by my program with Spanish students at the university who want to improve their English. We meet once a week for two hours (one hour in Spanish and one hour in English) and I think it’s a very good way to improve my speaking while also helping them. I have a group of three girls (it never ends, classic) but they’re really nice. In two weeks I’m also going to start teaching an 11 year old girl English at her house. My program director recommended me for it so that’s my next endeavor. I have class at 5:00 tonight and I was going to keep my weekday gym streak alive, but I really don’t feel well enough to do anything. My knee has been feeling a lot better and I’m definitely motivated to keep doing exercises. My group is hiking in the mountains to a refugee camp on Saturday to Sunday in Soller (I have pictures of Soller in my first post) so I’m looking forward to outdoor activity that doesn’t involve a city (true Mainer at heart). The weather has been fantastic every day (80s and sunny) but I’m told that it will get cooler very soon. Wherever you are, keep living the dream. Until next time.

Matt

The group I went with

Craziness

Park Guell Entrance

Park Guell View of Barcelona

Nice view of the port 

Capital

After much negative/concerned feedback that I received from last post, I would like to emphasize that I am very happy here. Obviously there are many aspects of my American life that I miss, but this is a new experience that is being taken in stride.

This past weekend was spent in Madrid. Being the capital city, Madrid is enormous and in two and a half days my group obviously just skimmed the surface of the vast sea of sights. We visited the Prado Museum, the congressional building, the royal gardens, the royal palace, the Museum of Reina Sofia and the “rastro” flea market. We also ate the best bocadillos de calamari (fried calamari sandwiches) in all of Madrid and had famous “churros con chocolate”. Obviously I like anything to do with food but it was also very cool to see paintings by Velázquez, Picasso, Miró, Dalí, El Greco, etc that I had only read about in books during my high school classes. We stayed in a very nice hotel (Hotel Liabeny) that was right in the center of the city (Plaza del Sol). We also had a good amount of free time at night to try different restaurants and thoroughly (and professionally) inspect the nightlife. The girls in my group like to bar hop for sangria, and by obligation I partake. However, I usually have a tapa (and maybe a cerveza or two) at each location rather than sangria. I don’t know what it is about Spanish food, but I’m constantly hungry. I might come home extremely overweight, but it’s all in the name of culture so I’m not too worried about it. Overall the trip was a very good time, but I couldn’t help but notice some peculiar cultural differences as we toured Spain’s noble past in a not so noble present.

Most interesting to me were the reminders of Spain’s rich history coexisting with the politics of today and the economic crisis associated with it. In the same five minutes a visitor can leave a tour of the royal palace, having seen priceless treasures and indescribably ornate grandeur, and walk past three beggars, palms skyward, looking for enough change to get them through the day. I guess this kind of juxtaposition exists in all cities, but never had I seen such an extreme level until this trip to Madrid. Porcelain walls, silk embroidered wallpaper, golden furniture-the list goes on- but what does it all mean when over 20% of the Spanish population is unemployed?  I respect the countless man-hours (and woman-hours) that were spent in creating the art that is the royal palace, but I found it hard to accept its existence and its purpose at this point in time. Obviously it was built in an era of economic stability but I feel that it sends the wrong message to the Spanish people of today. Pride (orgullo) plays a large role in Spanish culture and I’m sure that any Spaniard would say that they are proud of their palace and their history. Fair enough, they should be, but I feel that places like the palace should instead serve as a reminder of what used to be and as a motivation to reach this level once again.

This said, it was interesting to me that even with the problems that Spain is having, after leaving our tour of the Congressional building, we each received a backpack containing a pair of fleece gloves, a hat and a scarf. I was overheard commenting (in Spanish) on this irony to our group leader by a a woman next to me, and she responded that the problems are not with Spain, but with Greece, Italy and Portugal. I don’t possess the Spanish language firepower to win an intellectual argument so I didn’t push the subject, but I was taken aback by how irrational this statement was. Every day on the news in the U.S. a different European country is blamed for market volatility so it's hard to follow exactly what's going on, but do people in Spain really deny that they’re a large part of the problem? Granted, Spanish culture possesses the “tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow” mentality of putting off work but there’s a sizable difference between being laid-back and irresponsible. Do all Spaniards let national and personal pride get in the way of their financial responsibility? No, but given this culture, Spain’s participation in the EU allows for justification of constant finger pointing. Personally, I don’t agree with the “I’ll do it tomorrow” culture that I’ve found here, but I can accept it. I can’t, however, agree with or accept that an entire population can be too proud to feel even partially responsible for such important and serious global economic turmoil. Regardless, I do not have data to back up my opinion and I’m not qualified to make further commentary on this subject (whether you want to hear it or not), but this is a significant cultural difference that I have personally seen here. Whether it’s true for the rest of the population here or not is certainly debatable.

Anyway, economic talk aside, in my “cultural encounters” class we’ve discussed some culture shocks at length and besides the “tomorrow” culture that I’ve referred to at length, there are a few others. Two that share the same theme as “tomorrow” culture are slow paced walking and constant tardiness. Spanish people are notoriously late and no one seems to walk with purpose. New York City has some of the fastest walkers around, and that’s because time is money. The opportunity cost of enjoying a leisurely stroll doesn’t outweigh the money that could be made if the time was spent working. Here in Spain, apparently this isn’t the case. I’m familiar with the term “island time” but this a nationwide phenomenon. As I travel more I’ll definitely report back. And for the record, I do enjoy the tranquility when I don't have anywhere to be. 

I’ve been keeping up my regimen of swimming and biking/running almost every day and my knee has been feeling a lot better. Looking forward to hopefully feeling normal again by the time I get home. I’ve made some friends from England and we’ve been hanging out with international students (called ERASMUS kids: basically a government-paid study abroad program for Europeans) so it’s been very refreshing to branch out from my very small and very female CIEE group.

This weekend I’m off to Barcelona for a big concert called “Sensation”. It’s supposed to be unreal. Thousands and thousands of people in a stadium all wearing white. Definitely won’t be bringing my camera but there are plenty of YouTube videos showing the craziness that ensues. I’m flying out of Mallorca alone on Friday but I’m staying with a friend from Colby and a lot of my friends that are abroad in Europe will be there so it’ll be a nice reunion (if I can find them). Until next time.

Matt

El Rastro Market (Sundays in Madrid)

The Group at the Royal Palace

Royal Palace/Cathedral

Origin for all distances in Spain

Congress Building

Enjoying our generous gifts in front of the congress building

Speaks for itself

Royal Gardens

One of the Prado Museum buildings