Viva Fiesta-Las Fallas

Las Fallas- literally translates to "The failures"

        Before reading into the history, my intuition was that the  hedonism celebrated during this week had something to do with trying to give up something during lent, failing and saying, "What the hell, let's live it up". It seemed logical, as it happens to fall right in the middle of Lent.  But apparently that has nothing to do with the festival... but nice try Brenna
         The majority of people agree to the basic idea that the original reason for celebrating was the welcoming of spring.  Some explain that the burning of "the fallas" grew from the tradition of carpenters burning their extra, unusable wood from the season.  Others claim it was from people getting rid of things no longer needed, placing these objects in a collective pile in each street corner and later burning them all at once... whatever the origin exactly, it has certainly grown into quite an extravangza!
       These days, each neighborhood corner has a collective of "falleros", people that work all year to design and create ther own falla (a giant paper maché figure in the form of a cartoon like animation).  These fallas can be "infantil" and thus only a few feet tall, or giant (taller than 10 story buildings, averaging 60 meters).  On the last night of Las fallas, all of the figures are set on fire and burned to the ground.  Of course there is some controversy over this, given that the larger fallas are estimated at 300,000-400,000 euros (all privately funded by the falleros). The majority are politically themed mockeries or at least make some sort of political statement.    These fallas are in the streets for a total of a week which still doesn't give even the locals enough time to see all of them (there are about 300 giants and 300 infantiles).

This is the gorgeous falla that won "segundo premio"

I couldn't put this one on facebook.  There are smaller figures from a larger falla.  I couldn't stop laughing and cringing!

So, I arrived on Saturday via a car full of 4 other lovely people.  2 of them were friends, Julietta and Xema, and the other couple were friends of Julietta, another really sweet couple.  So when we get to Valencia, Juietta, Xema and I are conveniently dropped off in a pueblo just outside of the city limit.  I was fortunate enough to be invited to Xema's family's house for home cooked Paella.  We had the traditional meat paella (chicken and rabbit) with seafood as starters (baby squid and mussels yum!)  I regret not taking a picture of the paella being cooked because it was done so in an awesome pop up gas grill set up in the kitchen.  Before we ate I went to my first Mascletá.  Everyday at 2pm each falla (so practically every street corner)  sounds off an explosion of firecrackers, smoke bombs and whatever else is used to cause an inconceivable amount of noise.   There were rows and rows of firecrackers hanging, and this was only a small version of the big one in the main plaza of Valencia. 

After good eats and good convo, we hit the city where I met up with my friend Adrian who lives an hour and a half south (although had never visited Valencia!) and we dropped our stuff off at my friend Julio's.  After shopping for essentials we set off with a full back-pack.  

Here is Elvis.. he is chillin' with John Lennon, Stevie Wonder, and Freddy Mercury...but Elvis, is the KING

All of the streets were closed and full of people and parades.  There were thousands of people drunkedly parading and thousands more actually parading, in costume, towards the plaza of the virgin Amparo.  Each woman and girl carried a single flower to create a giant flower offering figure in the center of the plaza.... it took all day saturday and most of sunday to complete. 

 At any given point, one could conveniently stop and purchase fries, churros, or a giant mojito.  After exploring the excitement for awhile we decided to head towards the river park for a sit and a snack.  

Of course this wasn't really a rest as there was just as much fiesta over that way.   Additionally, everyone carries around fire crackers, sparklers , bottle rockets and anything that explodes, makes a lot of noise or produces a large amount of smoke.  It was all wonderful, Adrian is a just a wonderfully chill person to adventure with.  In the park we cut a deal with a wondering beer vender (ask me later what these people in Spain are called, you will think it's completely racist.. and the subject is for another blog).  So with 4 more beers to split we hung out and waited for the the firework show which was to start at 1:30... completely normal.  

This fireworks show was spectacular! Held over the river and lasting about 30 minutes, it was likely the best display of fireworks I have ever seen live!  One mind blowing moment was watching this one set go off, sink down, float back up and repeat 3 or 4 times.. whoa man, what?  

So it's 2am when the fireworks are over....time to go home? Absolutely not!! We're in Spain, remember?  So we headed into town and stumbled into a pop up discotech set in a tent.  Here you could order cubo-litros, aka a liter sized mixed drink.  Well , instead we opted for smaller ones.  We ordered two and go three tickets thanks to a little paper sticking magic.  Also, when I ordered my second drink, the guy didn't take my ticket... as you can see we're going down hill from here.  To order a gin and tonic you need to say "geen-tow-nic" otherwise, they have no idea what you want.  

So after that and a walk to the neighborhood Rusafa...the other side of town from where we were staying... we realized it was 6 am.  How do we get home? eh... let's ask.  So it took an hour to get home and we later realized it's about a 25 min direct walk if you know the streets and you're sober... duly noted!  

The next day Adrian and I pulled ourselves together and strolled along the river for an hour until we reached the "Ciudad de Artes and Ciensias" one of Valencia's few claims to fame, beside las fallas, but is architecturally stunning.  I didn't take photos this time as I had plenty from only a few weeks before (another fabulous vacation time filled with drinks, friends, foods, lakes and beaches)  

If you're still reading, good for you...it's a lot eh?  Ok to be brief we met with my friend Marissa, who stays in Rusafa and caught the light show. This is a picture from her balcony... piiimp

Then we had dinner with a huge group of people, caught the 1:30 firework show, ordered a liter mojito to share amongst 3 people (we decided it was very weak so Marissa, who wasn't even drinking any took it back to the guy and had him pour more in... get it girl.

After the show it was time for 3am concerts!!! These ended around 4 or 5 which was when I sadly parted with Adrian who stayed with Julio (after I told Julio that Adrian had nowhere to stay) and I went with Marissa (who didn't have room for him at her place... )

The downside of sleeping in a room facing a party street?  loud heart attack causing booms and explosion the entire night.  I did have quite a few interesting dreams so I guess I slept some?  Struggling through the next day we went to the giant noise explosion that is the Mascleta, ate delicious crepes for lunch, walked around to see Rusafa's fallas.. don't remember what else and eventually went and ate buñuelos for dinner.  This word means tissue, and handkerchief, but that is not what we ate.  Buñuelos the food is fried, puffy dough balls that you dip in chocolate... so kind of like churros but even greasier (which I didn't know was possible!)  To pass the time before the midnight setting fire of the fallas (quemas) we relaxed in a cafe and sipped, you guessed it, Mojitos while skimming through books on the Moda Vida era of Madrid in the 80's , listening to Ladytron, and admiring the modern art on the walls.  Yes, this is in fact the coolest bar I've ever been to, at least in Valencia.  I was going to take pictures, but I was tired and didn't want to be judged , and then forgot...

QUEMAS

When the firemen arrived, the fallera mayor set fire to the falla.  Not all 300 go off at quite the same time because there needs to be a certain amount of firefighters... otherwise buildings and people get set on fire.  So a 60 meter bonfire is.....HOT, really hot!  Amongst the immense heat and rainfall of ashes we stuck it through and it was absolutely amazing!  I had been sincerely missing bonfire the last almost 6 months... so this made up for all of the time at once.  

After this I caught a taxi with Marissa's friends who were on their way home, but they dropped me off in the center to meet up with others who were going to watch the last one go off.  On the way to the taxi I found a 2 euro coin... hhheeeeyyyaa.  So I was with a group of locals and travels and met one guy who is living in Dubai who has a friend that lives in... black mountain. Yeh, the one next to Asheville! That was so cool.  No one knows Asheville !   So there was a rumor that after the last quema, the firemen turn the hoses and spray the spectators... before we could find out if the rumor was true, it started raining.  I walked back to Rusafa in the rain; laughing, jumping on people's back, and carrying people until Vicent walked me to Marissa's and his roommate bought me a croissant (they insisted because they knew marissa's fridge was empty.... how sweet).

It rained all day the next day.. I was tired , said my goodbyes and got the heck out.  The end.

Thank you Valencia, that was life changing.  

I do it on the daily

Well, I'm sorry to be a blog failure.  Consistency has never been my forte (nor has writing).  Nonetheless, I think it's well passed time to have written about what I actually do here for a living.  Now that some of my traveling has slowed down, it's a little easier to get down to that.

So most of you know I live with a family consisting of a mother, father, and two boys (ages 12 and 10).  The parents are BOTH air traffic controllers; a job that here in Spain earns about 300,000 per year.  It's one of the highest income jobs in the country.  The house we live in reflects the high income, but it's not a mansion, and it's not even a stand alone home (very uncommon in the city unless you are outside of "zone a".   However, there are 4 stories (I live on the top with my bedroom, bathroom a terrace, but the office is also upstairs so it's not the most private).  The family also has a cleaning lady who comes three times a week.  She is a really sweet lady and because of her, I haven't cleaned a bathroom in 4 months.  spoiled!

So during the day I have free.  It's been tricky to stay motivated and busy from the hours of 9:00-4:30 when almost everyone else in the world is working or in school.  I have found a number of things to fill this space including.

*Making my friends meet me in the center for their lunch breaks... or at 2 or 2:30 when they're done with school (Thanks to JuanCa I've been squeezing in some good Spanish practice with beers and bocadillos

*  Taking Spanish classes- Oct-Dec I took Spanish classes Tues and Thurs from 10:30-12:00... but it was costing me 75 euro a month and I didn't feel I was learning enough.  I did however learn the pret. perfecto tense and have a better sense of those tricky pronouns... maybe I'll start again in Feb.

* Running- there's an incredibly beautiful park 5 min walking from my house.  It's full of olive trees, art statues, and waterways.   I have never been a runner, and I still wouldn't consider myself a runner, but it's fitness and it's free.

* Acting as a tour guide for travelers...  Ok I've only done this like 3 or 4 times but it's fun, especially when it' someone from a Spanish speaking country.

* aimless wandering around the city and meeting random fun people.

*  Daytime Spanish television.   Dubbed FRIENDS anyone?  I personally prefer dubbed "Los Simpson"

* My most recent day time occupier has been private lessons. 2 hours on Mondays and 2 hours on Wednesday with flexible re-scheduling options.  50 euros a week, a good deal for the both of us!

* And when my friend Julio is town from Valencia, we go on random adventures to places like "parque Europe (with replicas of famous European monuments haah), lunches, and even warp speed trips to Toledo.

*  Facebook- I'm on Facebook too much and I'm going to have to delete it if I can't clean up my act.

* Scrappy booky- A certain Alyson Dells made me a gorgeous going away gift- a hand made sketch book/journal.  I know I'm not artsy, but I wanted to channel some creativeity and have dedicated a page to each place I have travelled.  I'm a little behind (gotta make a Paris one!)  but I've kept up well enough.  Berlin, however,  is just beer labels so far... gotta add some paint.  Here is Calpe, Costa Blanca, Spain.. and yes, there IS a fanny pack in the background from Erin Youngman circa 2008

* I'm considering doing some scheduling shifts in my private lessons and taking an aerobics class in my district's public gym.... my fear is that the 9:30-10:30 class will be filled with seniors limping their way into the studio.

Ok and now to the afternoons-

I make snacks for the boys and we typically watch about an hour of either cartoons (dubbbbbbed) or our most recent obsession:  "The Most Extreme" which is a top 10 countdown of various animal superlatives.  I appreciate that it's educational and lacks bright flashing colors.

Homework time is generally easy... the hardest thing I do is tell Gonzalo to stop playing with his toys and focus back on work.  When he's in a good mood, he works diligently and efficiently.  On the bad days he yells, plays with his toys, yells some more and eventually finishes homework  and apologizes for being an ass.

Gonzalo is the youngest boy, and the one I spend the most time with.  We draw funny pictures on the computer, play chess and risk , Star Wars Mad Libs and anything else fun we randomly think of.   During homework we listen to the same Michael Jackson songs everyday... but tonight I have some other song stuck in my head.  Thanks to after-dinner playtime on the computer this evening I got to hear "The Final Countdown" 5 times in a row.  I suppose it explains my sudden surge of energy and motivation.

Ignacio, the older boy is really sweet too but he's a bit of a trickster.  If Gonzalo is the brains, Ignacio is the looks... but he certainly doesn't lack street smarts.  His intelligence is best represented in his art of manipulation.  I can't tell you how much of my chocolate he's stolen, but every time I call him out he just smiles, hugs me tight and says "Oh I'm so sorry Brenna..it won't happen again".  I appreciate his sneaky nature because... I think I was a bit like that as a kid.  At least when it came to chocolate snatching.

SO yeh and the weekends we get to play the WII and various action packed video games.  Other activities include bike rides to the park , the cinema and going out to lunch.

The hard part is always hearing about fun things going on during the weekday evenings that I can't attend.  I certainly do miss the sense of full independence but it's also been a friendly reminder to not have kids before I'm 30.

 I have more to say about daily life... what it's like to live with bosses and work where you live. but I'll let this digest and save the nitty gritty for next time.  

Amster-ham

I don't think I can continue with the long winded blogs in which I try to tell you every detail of my adventure... there's always a ton left out anyways so this blog attempt will be presented as a "best of" list. and here we go.

Amsterdam:

Riding bikes to the city:  Despite the bitter cold, it was exhilarating to ride bikes around Amsterdam.   Half of Amsterdam is below sea level so the roads are as flat as possible.  Amsterdam also has the luxury of going one  step further from a bike lane and has constructed little roads just for bikes. One must only be aware of hurried dutch bikers zipping by and the occasional tourist that mistakes the bike road for a sidewalk :).

Music venues:   There were two fantastic spots that I visited during my stay and I had the great fortune of knowing the right people and getting to go to both for free.  All I did was ask a person about a tour because I saw a post of his about a tour the previous week.  I asked  if he was available the following weekend to show me around.  He was more than happy to show me around the city, go to dinner with my host and me and take us to two different music venues (one which he happened to work at).   We spent the evening drinking 1 euro Heinekens and trying to "one up" each other on best live shows... he totally beat me, but of course I held my ground.

Cheese: yes.  Dutch cheese is simply fantastic.  Every store that sells cheese has at least 20 samples to try and I would say over 5 days I had consumed at least a pound of cheese.  oops


oliballen:  aka oily balls ...  These delicious pastries are the predecessor to the beloved American donut. They are fluffier and oilier and they give you a bag of powdered sugar to shake on them.  I won't tell you how many I ate :)

FEBO:  This food section is a good place to mention this wild concept:  There's a little store with a wall lit up.  It's like a vending machine wall lit up with rows of "fast food" displayed in little windows.  You insert your coins and then open the window to retrieve your piping hot food item.  The food is, well  I don't know.  There was some kind of sandwich but more importantly,  these fried "croquettes" that I chose to refer to as "fried gravy sticks"  inside it's like Thanksgiving gravy with meat bits.   I don't know whether to tell you it was a heart attack tube or a sheer delight.

The Van Gough Museum:  Always  a treat to see famous works of art up close and personal.  This was the only museum I visited in Amsterdam although there are literally hundreds.  I couldn't imagine spending the entire time inside of museums so I went for best.

THe Brewery:  No, not Heineken because I'm a beer snob.  Although now I have forgotten the name of the brewery.  The most important thing to note is that all of the beers were fantastic and the brewery also had a fine selection of sausages (which were pretty much raw and undoubtedly fantastic).  The best part of the brewery is that it is beside a lovely windmill.  There may be more to this story, so next time you talk to me, ask me about it :)

American Beer:  My added tourguide, Erick happened to care that I like good beer and took me to a store that carries almost every good beer known.  It was 3 times the size of Bruis n' ales.  It.was.beautiful!  Later we visited a bar dedicated to American beer.  It was decorated with beer labels and decor from all of my favorite breweries.  They even had duckrabbit ( an NC microbrew), but since it wasn't on tap, I opted for a good ol' Rogue.  Which of course brought back fond memories of Portland.  I'm going to sneak in another American thing I did here... Dr. Pepper.  It was the first time I had seen it in Europe, so I had to walk the streets with a Dr. Pepper in hand (Twice hehe).

The DapperMarkt:  Something that got pushed back to the last day, but was outstanding.  The market, much like the rastro in Madrid was full of stands on either side of the walk selling clothes, food and anything you would expect in a flea market.  I like this one better than the Rastro because it was a lot less crowded.  The main attraction there for me was the fish maket where they sold raw herring.  I figured it would be best sampled as a sandwhich versus straight up.  My god, it was fantastic.  AND CHEAP.  only 1 euro, for godsake that much herring in sushi form would cost 12-14 dollars in the states.  So for once Europe cut me a break on the steep prices :).   The only downer was the seagull hate crime.  yes, Anmar got pooped on : /  I promise I'm not smiling as I write this.  hehe

my host:  yes, the best part of a trip is usually the company, and I was in great company.  Anmar knew the city well and was willing to help me cover everything on the check list.  He even served as a tour guide when I got together with my mom's friend and her friend who had stopped into Amsterdam on their crazy European tour (and trust me, it required a great deal of patience to accompany those two ladies).   He also cooked me traditional Iraqi food and one morning he made crepes.   He is amazing, and there will be more to tell in the future.

to sum it up, Amsterdam is beautiful.  Walking and biking through the city provided endless entertainment.  The architecture is unique and outstanding and I loved the hundreds (actually there are over 1,000) of canals and bridges.   I'm not saying that it was better than Berlin, because Berlin is quite rad BUT I will say that under my particular circumstances, I enjoyed Amsterdam more.  I had 5 days there versus the 3 in Berlin so there wasn't a sense of urgency when exploring.  I also had loving and fun friends with me the whole time so I never felt lonely or lost.  It was actually the closest I felt to being in Asheville.  The mentality there is certainly similar.  If everyone spoke Spanish there, and it was warmer, I would have already packed up my life and moved there.  

Marrakech, Muerrcos

Given its proximity to Spain, Morocco was definitely on my list of countries to visit from day one.  I wasn't sure exactly if it would happen or not, because it is certainly NOT the place to travel solo, especially for women.   With this time off, I was originally planning to rally troops for a visit to Granada in the south of Spain.  I asked my friend Raul (who lives in Valencia) if he would like to go, and he told me he already had a trip planned to Morocco, but that I should hop on the wagon.... and I dove right in.

The plan was to meet in the big Plaza in front of the post office at 1pm.  I arrived at the airport at 12, took an easy bus ride to the city center and walked to the plaza... that was easy, I thought.  But I had 20 minutes or so before the guys were going to meet me.  The plaza was alive and thriving... full of fruit stands, vendors, snake charmers, guys with monkeys, other guys with toys... hundreds of  hundreds of people basically saying "buy this sh**!!!"  I'm thinking, ok just keep walking around, and as long as you don't stop, you can't get into any trouble.  So I'm walking, saying "no thank you" "no gracias" and "no merci" over and over and I almost got away without stopping until this one guy got suckered me with his free date samples... oh ok, I thought... I could buy some dates, no big deal.  So I'm just trying to buy my dates when a young woman grabs my hand and starts to cover it with henna.  "No, no thank you" I said.  But she says, "no, no it's free, it's for good luck".  Here en lies my biggest fault in life... the inability to say NO.  "Ok fine, whatever.. she's obviously not going to let go of my hand without a fight".  So she pulls me over to a box to sit on a few feet away and I'm telling her "look, I gotta go meet my friends, thanks, this is good enough" but no... she had to "write my name in Arabic" and tell me about the good luck and babies I was going to have (ps lady, those two things aren't synonymous in my world right now).  So I'm pulling away and smearing Henna everywhere including my trusty fannypack ( :) ).  So she says, ok you pay now.. you student, I give you good deal 350 dirhams (haha that is 35 euros!)  I tell her, listen you're crazy, 5 minutes of henna, no way.  I offer her 50 (you can do the math) and she freaks out and starts calling out to her scary posse which is lurking around, busy selling whatever is they're selling.  As she's calling lots of attention to us, I'm starting to get more and more nervous... I said efff it and gave her 100 dirhams and ran, haha.   After reflecting upon this moment I realize that they probably couldn't have done a damn thing  to me and I shouldn't have paid a dime... but these guys thrive from the power of intimidation and harassment and they do a mighty fine job.  

So I make it to where I'm supposed to meet my friends and just sit, hoping to be left alone for a second. Finally at what I thought was 1:30, Raul and his friend Sergio meet up.  It is then that I learn that is is 12:30 in Morocco ( one hour time change) and that cheap pre-paid phones don't have clocks that run on satellites and therefore do not automatically change... thank god they were early.  So we make the trek to find my Riad, which is supposedly right next to their Riad.  We head down an alley-way like street with high walls... both sides lined with people selling everything you could possibly imagine.  There is kind of an indoor feel as most of the alley ways are covered with scrap metal or thatching.  You would think you were walking down a sidewalk given the fact that it's a market, but then you realize it's a free for all street as motorbikes fly through, seemingly paying no regard to the hoards of pedestrians.   The smell of gasoline (reaaaalllly cheap there by the way, of course) has a way of lingering and settling in to the Medina.  It didn't take long for me to get a sharp headache from the fumes.Along the way we saw lots of little children around, and I couldn't help but offer 3 of them dates... the fruit.  Within seconds there's like 10 children, so I hand out dates as quickly as possible and say "that's it no more, sorry!"  One precious child walks along with us for a bit grabs my hand and kisses it repeatedly.   Despite the fact that there's a line of drool from his mouth to his hand, I find this motion absolutely endearing. 15-20 minutes later, and after many dodgy turns down the maze of the Medina, we find the Riad.  All I know is that I have absolutely no idea where I am.

The Riad is beautiful!  One thing that defines a Riad is the fact that the building is built around a garden and pool/bath.  There are several open lounging spaces filled  with tropical colors, plants and an overall luxurious feel.  My habitation included a base floor which was an empty room with a sink, and a bathroom.   The spiral staircase led to a charming bedroom, which was simple, but well decorated.  It was, well, ghetto but precious.  The roof top terrace is by far the highlight of the Riad... but I'll move on to that in a bit.  

Raul and Sergio wait for me as I drop off my stuff and wash the gooey henna off my hand...it was like having poop on my hands, if you've ever had henna, you know what I mean.  In my Riad we met a couple from Brazil who had actually been on the same flight as me.  They basically have a grant from a phd program to travel around the world for year, interviewing people about motivation... um, best idea ever?  So the five us head to back to the plaza to get some lunch.   During the trek we're ignoring the hoards of people yelling out in every language that we think we could possibly speak "big plaza, are you looking for the big plaza, go this way, no go this way, blah blah blah.  We just smile and continue on our way".  The restaurant, like many of the other restaurants and cafes, is placed high above ground level and filled with windows offering a lovely view of the square, palm trees, and snow covered mountains.  Here's the view:

I have pictures of the food as well, please refer to the facebook album as it takes a hot minute to get pictures on here and there's 70-80 pictures available to you there. 

During our lunch, a parade, protest of sorts came through the streets cheering, singing, and throwing papers in the air.  It was the day before the big election.  Unlike most governments, there are apparently 32 parties to chose from. And if you're lucky, people will pay you to vote for certain people :).  Again, see FB for photos.  

What on earth did we do after lunch? Walked around the medina for a spell, sampled foods, products and tried not to get suckered into anything.  One of my favorite spots was an herbal store.  This spot actually had a store/space inside of a building.  A young gentlemen fluent in 6 languages stopped us to show us all his wonderful products.  As I'm perusing through the variety  of goods I turn around and the guy is holding some mentholated type remedy up to Sergio's nose, plugging one of his nostrils and telling him to breath deeply... this cracks me up and I stand there laughing until they get me to do it too. So at first the smell is just like a nice eucalyptus smell, then all of sudden, BAM there's this peppery intense smell.  It did a great job of clearing my sinuses... got some of that diesel smell out at least.  Then the guy puts some lotion on Luha and me and lures us into the little shop.  Which is lovely.. and yes see FB for the photo.  The walls are lined with herbs, spices, and jars of colored water for dye.  They had soooo much cool stuff there.  Unfortunately for the store owners we spent only 4 euros between the five us ....sorry.   I was rather impressed by the salesmanship of many of the folk.  It's amazing that so many of them spoke not only arabic and french, but english, spanish... and sometimes german, italian, and portuguese... or enough phrases to impress the tourists.  

Eventually we head to a cafe to join a weekly Couch Surfing meeting... my initial thought was, wow this could be really lame, or really cool.  Thankfully we were surrounded by locals.  Everyone was interested in learning pieces of different languages and I learned a good 10 phrases of Arabic, practiced writing a little and learned that Brenna... although pronounced slightly different I'm sure, means "we want"... there were some fun jokes with that.  The other fun joke was the henna on my hand, i informed them that it is my friendly reminder to learn to say no (still working on that one).   

After the meeting, 3 or 4 of the locals offered to take us to a good spot for dinner.  We ended up back at the "big square" where at night they set up tables under tents and have numerous booths with food cooked to order.  We decided everyone would pick something off the list and we would play share-sies.  I'm so glad people are into that, because it's really the  best way to try everything.  In no time, our table was line with couscous, tajin (a bubling hot dish in a clay pot which contains a rich red sauce, meat and egg), shrimp, olives, steak, little meat balls, chicken, salad, and more than I can remember.  We made a huge mess and I loved every minute of it.   Danilo took a picture of Luha and I pretending to savagely fight over what was left of the chicken in the couscous, it was a priceless moment in Barbarianism.

So after an 11:00 pm dinner we call it a night and make our way to our respective Riad's... the nice boy on the right, Mohamed left us with a phone card so that we could call him the next day.  He offered to be our day and night time tour guide, so wonderful!  

The next morning I woke up for the sunrise which I watched from the rooftop terrace.  It was a very chilly morning, although no where near as cold as the snow topped mountains in the background.  After snapping some photos and admiring the beautiful plants on the roof, I crawled back in my bed for another hour.  I woke up before my Brazillian friends and headed back up to the terrace for breakfast.  This was where I encountered a lovely Italian couple. who ended up joining our raucous  band of travelers.  I loved the fact that during breakfast the Italians, Brazilians and American spoke in Spanish to each other, a language that no party spoke natively.  

So before we called our friends we explored the museums and historical sites around our area.  At one point we tried calling our friend, but didn't get an answer.   We later found a nice spot for lunch and tried to call our friend once again.  This time he picked up and told us he'd be there in 10 minutes... what an available guide!  15 minutes later we call him again because we were super hungry and not sure if he was going to eat with us or not, as I'm talking to him I hear a double voice (as does Mohamed) because he's whizzing by on the back on a moped while talking to me. We eat lunch in the same manner as the previous nights dinner and head on a beautifully long walk to a monument.  Along the way "Mo" (only for the sake of typing, not a real nickname) and I share his headphones and listen to ridiculous top 40 songs, 50's rock, and 60 other things.  

Mo  friend joins us, along with 3 eastern european boys who are currently studying in Valencia.  The walk back was long as well, but one of the most gorgeous walks I've ever had in my life.  The sunset that day was like catching a glimpse into heaven.  There was an incredibly complex layering of various clouds with perfect pink, oranges and yellows.  It still melts my heart to think about it.(Again, see photos, but no that they cannot even begin to do that moment in time a bit of justice)  Ok, so we meander later for some roof top coffees and mint tea. Mo offers to run down to the plaza real quick and haggle for a scarf... it was the only thing I managed to buy the whole time there.. frankly the whole deal  is rather overwhelming and I always felt like we were in a hurry... but thanks to the insider scoop I got a great bargain.  We eat dinner at the coffee shop from the night before, and it just wasn't very good.  Most of the dinner conversation revolved around how we were going to buy me more time in Morocco...  What would I tell my bosses? lost passport?  Tap water gave me the runs?  the truth?  As tempting as the option was, I knew I had to get back, and that I had to make this last night count : ).

So, some we all go back to the Riads, some stay and others of us head off to the new side of town where the clubs are.  I didn't really pack club clothes because I had no idea that there were night club options.  so .. I looked pretty cool in my denim skirt and tennis shoes, no really.  

The new Medina (Town) is the only area that actually sells alcohol.  I had money enough for one Mojito.. it costs the equivalent of 8 euro, which on a local salary is probably like paying over $20... plus it was really, really sweet and quite possibly had no alcohol what so ever.  Really though, not important to me.  I had a fantastic time dancing to the traditional club type music along with Moroccan dance music  ... watching everyone's sweet dance moves and hand claps was a real treat.  

At about the hour of "so late, it's early" we decide to leave.  I also realize that Mohamed really doesn't  exactly where  my Riad is, and that it would be rather risky to even try this late at night.  So we go to his apt in the new town I crashed out in the living room and 3 hours later we begin our morning hunt for my Riad.

I know I can be really careless sometimes, but this one takes the cake.  I didn't bring my notebook with the Riad's address, I had no money, and no minutes on my phone to call the others.  In my defense, Mo had assured me that he knew his way around because he was a local... oops.  Well after running through the old Medina maze walls and alley ways for over an hour.... and asking quite possibly 50 people every 10 meters ("Where is Hadika Maria") , and even paying some little children who told us they knew the way( liiiiaaaars) we finally, finally made back.  What really helped was a nice gentlemen who let us into his friend's Riad to look up the address.  After the fiasco, we decided we would never forget the name "Hadika Maria" for the rest of our lives.  And when my grandchildren are sitting with their pre-programemd GPS's gadgets installed into their wrists I will tell them... "back in my day... lost for hours, days, in the desert...." I can't wait : )

So the trip had to end, as all vacations do.  Mo and I had a delicious breakfast of this fried bread like stuff with cheese in it ( we also tried the same snack as a group the previous day during our long walk... I really don't know how to describe the stuff, but it's delicious).  Mo gave me some traditional jewelry from the Western Sahara where he grew up which was incredibly kind of him.  He even took the bus with me to the airport and waited in line with me for my boarding ticket.  

Once I sat in the plane I realized I made it!  Despite all my absent minded actions, I made it out alive!

As I know I'm leaving a lot out of this story, I want one thing to stick.  For me, the most important part of this trip was the friendships I made with people... from the tourists to the locals I was incredibly privileged to be in the company that I had.    The locals especially, from telling us to try their famous dish of "snail's pee"  too offering to find me jobs teaching english, and every step of hospitality along the way was a true gift that I shall cherish for a lifetime.   I laughed until I cried, and cried when I left. 

Thanks to all who made it possible!  I love you dearly : )

Social Centers

If I had the motivation to start a blog sooner, this would have been one of my first entries.  I got word of these types of places on my first Sunday in Madrid.  I met with a group to help a park to take photos.  We went out for bocadillas (little sandwiches) and cañas (draft beer) afterwards at a place where when you order these things together you pay 1euro for each... and there are literally 100 bocadillas to chose from.  Anyways one of the guys had lived here for 3 years or so and was serving as our ambassador for the day.  He is really involved with one Social Center, Casablanca and invited us to a concert there the following Saturday.  

    I told my friend Anna about it and we decided to go.  This was also the day someone had posted about meeting at  Templo Debod (the park with an imported ancient Egyptian temple) to practice aerial acrobatics.  After all of the upside down fun we headed to Casa Blanca.  The first thing I thought was wow, this is what the Werehouse (Winston Salem) was going for all of this time.  This building is an occupied space that a group of people run together.  Some people just participate in community events and some actually live there.  It's all very open, with corridors courtyards and endless amounts of cool rooms.  There was a bar with cheap beers, a stage, and artwork everywhere.  Upstairs there was a free store and a photo lab.  It was so rad to see this kind of stuff happening in Madrid.  

The other social center I've frequented is called the Tabacalera.  This site is actually run a little differently.  Set in an abandoned tobacco factory ( winston-salem? ), the large building also contains an endless amount of rooms starting with a lobby with a bulletin board full of class schedules and activities planned.  All the work shops are free and include activities such as African drumming, salsa/swing dancing, figure drawing, and my favorite, circus art.  There is also a bar in the courtyard, a garden space, regularly held concerts and various food nights.  This space (I think) is actually considered a public space because the organizers have asked permission from the city.  During one of my visits here, there were police officers, only they were the guard type and apparently they were there in case fights broke out.  I was confused because they didn't seem to mind the smell of marijuana that was floating around and they weren't looking to arrest anyone.  Then I remembered that I wasn't in the United States... so maybe things are different. ouch

So basically, these places are amazing.  They provide an endless amount of cultural activities, 1 euro beers and all around good fun.  If I didn't work evenings, I'd probably be there almost everyday.  

Toledo

     Yesterday I made a spontaneous visit to Toledo.  Toledo has been on this list since my arrival, but it has been easy to postpone given it's close proximity to Madrid.  The idea to visit was sparked when having drinks on Saturday night with a friend in town from Valencia.  This friend, Julio was an attendee of the Calpe/Oktoberfest adventure and we have since kept in touch.  Despite the fact that he is significantly older, we get along fantastically and laugh with each other non-stop.  In addition to always buying my drinks he also took me out for a  Peruvian lunch last Monday... but back to Toledo.
     Julio offered to drive which is 100 X better than taking a bus ( because to catch a bus I would walk 20 min to the metro, ride 30-40 min to the bus station and pay 15 euro for a roundtrip ride).  We departed from my house at 9am and made it to Toledo by 10:30.
     The first glimpse of Toledo is incredible.  Spain is all about some "doors" or "puertos" and have usually been constructed at various entrances of towns or important spots in larger cities.   The little fiat chucked itself up the steep hillsides and we parked somewhere near the top of the city.   Toledo is like the Rome of Spain, only you can walk through the entire town, traversing the cobble stone streets.  The city is packed with cathedrals, Synagogues and Mosques demonstrating an interesting historical diversity of Christians, Jews, and Muslims.  It is also a walled city, like Segovia that sits high above a beautiful river ( rio Tájo) providing beautiful sites inside and outside of the city border.

   When I spoke with my aunt Bonnie about Spain, she told me that Toledo was her absolute favorite place in Spain.  She then proceeded to show me her earrings from Toledo that she managed to hold on to for over 30 years now.  The jewelry that is unique to Toledo is made with a technique that involves plating detailed gold or silver string to form pictures on a black background (that I think is iron, but I really have no clue).  I had forgotten about this encounter until we passed by a little shop where an old man was making this type of jewelry.  I saw a beautiful necklace with a beautiful bird and flower design and thought it would be nice match jewelry with my aunt : ).    While purchasing the necklace, Julio and I are having a lovely conversation with this man about how he makes the jewelry and he asks where we're from.  Usually I just say the United States, but this time I mentioned North Carolina.  He then pointed to his postcard collection and told me he had a postcard from N.C.  Of course I had to have a look to see where exactly that postcard came from, ignoring the fact that the postcard stack was compiled of at least 200 postcards.  I finally found it and asked if I could take a picture.  My shennanigans tickled this little old man to death and he gave me some postcards from Toledo so that someday I could have 200 postcards.

After wondering around the city for awhile longer we finally started thinking about lunch.  It's still a problem for me that lunch happens around 2:30.  I had enough problems back home when I actually ate a decent breakfast (and not these cookie things they have here) and had to wait until 12:30.  Now I'm waiting six hours on a belly running off the fumes of either cookies, churros or some toast.  We found a nice looking restaurant with a decently price menu al día.  As usual, this means a first plate, second plate, bread, drink and coffee or a pastry.  Since we both asked for wine, the waiter brought us the whole bottle (this is the second time I have had this privilege).  My Castillian soup with chorizo, beans and a poached egg came first and the plate of veal followed shortly after.   They had arroz con leche (which is just the best)  as a pastry option so I ordered that.  The portion was huge and I was already full AND we didn't finish the bottle of wine,  which seemed like such a waste to me.  But I didn't want to be super buzzed and have to help the boys with homework later, and the full stomach was enough to deal with.  

From lunch it was time to get in the car and head home.  On the way to the car we noticed a YMCA.  That was the first international YMCA that I have seen and it made me think of all my wonderful Americorps friends and all of the good times spent at the Y (although in reality I judge this organization harshly... and that's another blog).  Upon our exit we had just enough time to pull over and take a few pictures from the bottom of the town.  After a siesta like ride back to Madrid, I arrived home with plenty of time to have snack ready for the children and continue on with my "work day".  

It was a tough Monday, really.  All the excitement from the weekend and the adventure had me too exhausted to go to Spanish class today.  I have to rest up and pack for Morocco on Thursday!  

Cheers to adventures

    

late nights

 My social life is starting to expand.  Getting started was the tricky part.  Living outside of the city center, living with a family, and not having co-workers posed some challenges but thanks to the social networking skills of couchsurfers, I’ve met cool people, gone on legendary trips, and discovered interesting events in town.   Of course for me, this method of making friends can feel a bit forced at times, but I’m acknowledging that is only a different approach and not necessarily surface level.  I shouldn’t expect to automatically acquire friendships of the same caliber that I have at home. That would simply be impossible. 

I have been going out on the weekends, but typically have maintained early returns to my home.  There have been a few exceptions.  The first night I went out, my new friend Anna helped me figure out which night bus to take as we circled Plaza Ciebeles.  This plaza is basically a bus corral after midnight.  The night bus is a fun option with departures every 20 minutes until 6 am, when the metro opens once again.  We did spend a lot of night getting lost in the city, and it’s a miracle that we found the night bus departure area in the first place.  After asking a million questions I learned that L4 is my special nightbus.

Sometimes the night bus is not an option.  For instance, you go to a new friend’s house party and they live near Plaza de Torros, and you’re not really sure how far that is from plaza Ciebeles, but it’s probably about 45 minutes and you’d be walking alone.   There are two options.. stay up until 6 and catch the metro (the common thing to do).. or stay up until 5, and then decide to sleep on the cold floor of your friend’s room while the party continues.  I ended up choosing the latter most likely because I went salsa dancing the night before and had to wake up early, therefore sleeping 4 hours.  The next day was when I experienced my first hangover in Europe (I should mention that the family was kind enough to have an outing for cheeseburgers the next day, and by God that helped a lot)

Was it worth it?  Well, it was cool to go to a party full of Spaniards.  There of course were a few smart ass, pompous boys that got a kick out of the fact that I couldn’t understand a word they said when they spoke quickly (and added more lisp for emphasis).  It’s really entertaining for the tool bag type of guys to mess with the American girls.   They also thought I was strange for drinking wine by itself. “Do you at least want some ice”? What? No… and I certainly don’t want to put coke, lemonade or anything else in it either, which makes me the weird one.  But of course there were lots of nice people too… I must say though, that the majority of these nice people were Central and South Americans. 

Another time I skipped the night bus option was actually when I was rather close to the  bus corral.  There was a club that played dance music, only it was Balkan, Ska and swing, which apparently are all somewhat popular in Madrid.  The group organizers (from couchsurfing, yes)  declared the meeting time to be 12 (00:00) .  I met with a visiting Italian friend first because jeez, I needed something to do before that hour in the night.  When we met at the plaza near the metro, there were about 20-30 of us.  Thank goodness for the folks selling cans of beer on the street, because we stood around that plaza drinking and talking for almost an hour before we decided we should get to this club. 

 

The club part happens around 1 or so.  I decide to order a gin and tonic, and the bartender tells me that is a speicial offer tonight and to go see the people at the little gin and tonic stand.  These people are making ridiculously and unnecessarily fancy gin and tonics… I decide I don’t mind because it’s all the same price and the glasses are large.  After receiving my drink I am told that I get a special gift too.  I went to the lobby and “spun” an electronic wheel… I won a drawstring backpack made out of some awful synthetic material.  I shoved it somewhere and “forgot” to claim a prize on my second drink.

Anyways the music progresses into a more and more raucous and rowdy tone which is great, because the place is filling up with more punk-y kids and the bathrooms are only getting muddier.  I am sincerely enjoying bumping around into people and even lost my shoe at one point!  The whole thing reminded me of  going to Gogol Bordello back in April with Emma and Lillie and everyone else.   I took a cigarette break with a friend who I bonded with over good indie music ( I have smoked less than 10 since I’ve been here).  He is from Mexico and finishing medical school and practicing in a hospital until December I told him about wanting to go to the Rastro market and he said he’d tag along if I’d like.  Then I start to describe my hour journey home and the need to repeat that journey once again in the am.  Having been 3 am at the time, I asked if he had a couch I could sleep on.  He graciously offered a sleeping spot and I instantly had an excuse to stay out all night. 

Somewhere nearing 6 am we decided we should probably head home.  This is when I’m informed of a 40 min. walk to his apartment.  Thank god I love walking, especially at night, and especially after a few hearty gin and tonics.  The best part was that the coat check guy was giving out some sort of promotional rock candy.  I have no idea what it was advertising, and I had no idea what the heck was in that little black packet until the coat check guy ripped one open and dumped the whole thing into his mouth.  He proceeded to leave his mouth open so that we could hear the satisfying crackling sound of the “rocks” popping with the mixture of saliva.  RRRAAAAADDD.  I think that Tom Halliford of Parks and Recreation would want to steal the pop rocks idea if entertainment 720 had stayed afloat. 

Somehow, we make it back to Luis’ apartment and I’m thinking “I hope this guy isn’t a serial murderer” and “I really don’t know exactly where I am.”  The best part is he’s not a serial murderer, nor a creepy dude that tries to take advantage of girls.   What a relief!    I do however note that he has more shoes than I do, over 3 times as many ( ok, in all fairness I only brought 3 pairs of shoes).  One pair of shoes has giant wings attached to it… also there was a poster of a drawing of two men in police uniforms making out.   All the signs point to gay, but I still don’t know, nor does it matter.  We walked to the Sunday market.  The sun made its first appearance in 36 hours and it sat comfortably for awhile.  We met up with my French friend too and later dined on tapas. 

We all went our separate ways…. For me that meant a walk to Retiro Park, up Gran Via and then down to plaza del sol.  I had time to kill before the weekly Spanish- English language exchange and happened upon a beautiful market in Plaza Mayor with food from all over South America, there was even a market type bar with a dance floor (I got suckered into a conga line but it was worth the Mojito sample).

Finally it was time for the language exchange.  The location changes every week as a new host picks a spot and makes a post.  This Sunday’s exchange took place at the famous Chocolatería (it will come in handy to know that it is still open at 6am).  We all chowed down on Churros (Donut like pastry in a stick shape, crispier, warmer and greasier than any donut you could imagine) dipped in our cups of hot chocolate so thick you need a spoon.   It was like they melted Hershey kisses on the stove.   After walking around all day and having 5 hours of sleep, I wasn’t able to survive long after the Churro coma set in. 

Upon my return home, the mother of the family I work with said “Que tal tú… no sé como se dice… noche? Día?  But they didn’t seem to mind at all that I dipped out for 24 hours.  They do request though that if I decide I’m not coming home that night, to send them a text (which I did).  I think that’s really sweet.  I also think, “wow am I a teenage daughter once again?” And that’s ok too : )

I promise to create shorter blogs in the future, ok.  Future topics: Metro life, "boys in Europe", forward thinking social centers and more