I Left My Heart in Barcelona

The title may seem cliché upon first glance, but anyone who has ever been to Barcelona will understand exactly what I am talking about.  However, it would be unjust to skip strait to Barcelona without first speaking of Zaragoza.  We left bright and early on Thursday morning after a late night at our first Real Madrid game, a game in which they dominated, of course.  Due to the fact that most of the large rivalry games are extremely pricey, this Wednesday game that we attended was not exactly a nail biter; Read Madrid beat Los Millonarios (a Columbian team) with a final score of 8-0.  This also meant that the oh-so-handsome Cristiano Ronaldo was not playing that night….*sigh* I suppose that means I will just have to come back to Spain and watch that sexy man in action on the soccer field at a later time. 

Back to Zaragoza: we did not have any guides for this particular stop as we explored La Catedral de la Seo de Zaragoza, which was a surprising freedom that we all gladly embraced.  This cathedral in particular was a bit more modernized with a bit of Antonio Gaudi influence as opposed to most of the gothic style, pre-Renaissance cathedrals we had toured on some of our other excursions.  Many of the statues inside were made of marble or other precious stones rather than carved from wood and the majority were left unpainted.  Outside the cathedral we found plenty of fun areas to explore; a nearby fountain, some statues, and some fun stores with interestingly translated names gave us plenty to occupy ourselves with during our free time in this particular Spanish city. 

A few of us also had an interesting encounter with some Spanish men.  By now we are pretty accustomed to the catcalls and “Hola, guapas” that we hear everywhere we go.  Firstly, because we are sexy and we know it; secondly, because European men just tend to be a little more vocal whenever they see anything they like.  These men, however, were a little more persistent.  It began with the usual catcalling, asking if we needed our picture taken, etc.  It then escalated to prolonged staring and blowing of kisses, repeated loud whistling, desperate whistling from across the plaza as we walked away, and ended in a pursuit where we were forced to take shelter temporarily in a hotel to throw them off of our trail.  It was nothing too serious, but a funny tale nevertheless. 

After another four hours of traveling, we arrived in the beautiful city of Barcelona.  Well, it didn’t seem particularly beautiful in the rain, but the sight of palm trees and the ocean on the horizon was enough to get us all pretty excited for what was to come.  After settling in at the hotel very briefly, a small group of us immediately went out in search for a hot spot to eat our late-night dinner.  Although we didn’t find the place we had originally set out to find, we stumbled upon an extremely trendy and chic totillería by the name of Flash Flash.  We were first drawn in by the clever decorations, were floored by the prompt and flawless service of the well-dressed waiters, and upon trying my tortilla I was absolutely smitten.  Also just to clarify: when I say tortilla, I am not referring to the plain flour or corn-based circle used as a staple in Mexican culture.  I am in fact referring to a tortilla Española, which is rather similar to an omelet in the United States, only a lot classier and with many more exciting ingredients and variety.  The particular tortilla that I ordered was in fact a pastel de tortillas, which consisted of three tortilla varieties (onion, tomato, and potato) as well as pepper, artichoke, eggplant, and olives all topped with a savory mayonnaise based sauce.  I have always loved traveling and food, but when you combine the two of them together and allow yourself to be a little adventurous you can never go wrong.  To make things even better, we stumbled upon a crepería (crepe restaurant) about half an hour after finishing our light dinner portions, ending our first night in Barcelona on a sweet and satisfying note. 

Following our typical weekend overindulgence at our continental breakfast, we boarded the bus with our guide for a ride-along tour of the city.  Our first stop was the Parque de Güell, a park designed by Gaudi and full of many of his creations and ideas, including what is rumored to be the largest bench in the world, several of the houses of Gaudi, and the house that Gaudi himself dwelt in that was built by one of his finest students.  I had not researched much into Gaudi or his previously in my life, but now I have fallen in love with his unique style and amazing capacity to create. 

Shortly after this amazing visit to the park, we were guided through and received a thorough education of one of the crowning jewels of Barcelona and Spain as a whole: the Sagrada Familia.  The symbolism involved in the construction of the Spanish cathedrals has absolutely nothing on the symbolism placed upon every material, every statue, and every stained glass window fragment that makes up the Sagrada Familia.  I won’t go into too much detail since I know that only readers who get as amped up by symbolism as I do (aka other English majors with an immense appreciation of artistic value in all forms) would appreciate all that I have to share.  My favorite new piece of knowledge that I gained by far was this; the Sagrada Familia is still under construction.  This basilica was designed by Gaudi and construction began in the year of 1889 with the idea that it would take hundreds of years to complete.  At the time many of Gaudi’s layouts and ideas were impossible to execute with the available amount of technology, but he trusted the following generations to make these dreams of his fully realized.  The Sagrada Familia has artistic style, construction, and materials accumulated from 1889 and onward in a wonderful medley of artistic appreciation dedicated to God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit.  As our guide so eloquently informed us, if an artist now were petitioned to imitate art from the 19^th or 20^th century, they would not really be creating true art.  According to the current schedule, the Sagrada Familia should be complete by the year 2030, although some say that it will never truly be finished. 

Filled with a new appreciation for art and empowered by the profound messages and hidden meanings unveiled to us in the Sagrada Familia, we set off into the heart of the city to shop, explore, and experience the city of Barcelona firsthand.  We wove in and out of stores and through Las Ramblas (the famous market district of Barcelona) to start off our journey, putting our hunger for shopping on hold temporarily to satisfy our ever-present hunger for new and exciting Spanish food.  What better place to grab lunch than at the most famous food market in Barcelona, La Boquería?  I could have spent hours in there looking at the various colorful and enticing displays of meat, fish, nuts, eggs, sandwiches, and fruit, but with only once day in Barcelona we had a lot of other things to see.  I left La Boquería with a fresh cup of coconut blackberry juice in my hand and a small chicken empanada settling happily in my stomach. 

Shortly thereafter we encountered a flea market at the mall located near the port filled with various booths much more suited for our budgets than the average European clothing store.  When a few of my friends wanted to try on some handmade, vintage-style dresses, we made the public mall bathroom into a fitting room.  One of the ladies who ran the dress booth not only gave us plenty of dresses to try on, but also a full length mirror to bring into said bathroom area.  After our fun little fashion show adventure with some unexpected guests trying to use some of the public bathroom stalls (oh the nerve!), Evelyn and Kari made some purchases that we all approved of unanimously.  We continued our walk in the direction of the Arco de Triunfo and witnessed what seemed to be a large rollerblading competition unfold beneath this famous arc.  Rollerblading seems to be a common display of talent over here in Europe among street performers, possibly comparable to the popularity of breakdancing on street corners in the United States. 

Next came the Calle de Gracia, one of the widest and most well-known streets of all of Barcelona.  This street is particularly known for it’s luxurious shopping, various Gaudi houses, and extremely pricey real estate.  Needless to say, we did not make any purchases while on this street, but it was fun to fantasize that one day we may be rich enough to spend 300 euros on a pair of fabulous high heels.  Once we decided we felt sufficiently poor and out of our own leagues, we began our quest for dinner.  After a long day of walking around Barcelona, we were pretty famished and really craving some hefty portions of paella.  Instead, we found ourselves at a slightly more upscale restaurant by the name of Tomate.  The portions were smaller and the food more expensive, but oh baby was it worth it.  I shared some patatas bravas with mi amiga Mary and ordered my own rice dish with clams and saffron with what seemed to be a hint of lime.  I tried a small bite of foie, which I found out later was duck liver; a weird texture to be sure, but also very tasty.  I felt extremely European not only because I was wearing my new scarf and eating smaller portions, but also because I managed to make that small portion last for almost an hour as I chatted casually with my friends.  I cannot tell you how many times I have been told since arriving here that Americans rush too much, especially with consuming their food.  Once I had a bite of my exquisite rice dish, I more fully understood why savoring every small morsel of food is often far superior to just scarfing it down mindlessly. 

We returned to our hotel after dinner, but we were not there for long.  The motto last night from that point on went something like this; the night is young and we are in Barcelona.  So naturally, we changed into our swimsuits and decided to walk down to the beach for a midnight Mediterranean swim.  On our way we encountered the beach carnival, some sexy men, some not-so-sexy men, and a random concert in an alley with feel good Spanish music and the full spectrum of the adult population dancing the night away.  Once we finally arrived at the beach, the wind was blowing and the tide was high, so our midnight swim turned out to be a lot more like a midnight dunk in the waves.  I had anticipated being extremely cold after fully submerging myself in the Mediterranean Sea water, but on the contrary I felt completely invigorated and was quickly dried off by the strong coastal breeze.  From there, we split into two groups; those who wanted to take the metro home and those who wanted to walk and take in more of the nightlife of Barcelona.  I chose the second option, and my friend Kari and I took full advantage of the night and walked through the Barrio Gótica (literally gothic neighborhood) of Barcelona and made it back to our hotel rooms with absolutely no regrets. 

That, mis amigos, is the story of how I fell in love with the city of Barcelona.  I vow that I will one day return, hopefully with my parents, my Aunt Tammy, or my future hot Italian boyfriend along for the ride.  

Segovia, Uclés, y Cuenca - Oh my!

Well folks, it's that time again; the time following my excursion where I slave away explaining the historical value of what I have seen and experienced the past weekend without knowing whether or not my words will ever truly appreciated by my lovely array of Facebook friends, acquaintances, and family.  If anything, these posts will always serve as overly extravagant journal entries for my personal collection as well as a way to fine tune my writing habits in English while abroad so I still have a shot at becoming the writer I aspire to be.

This last weekend was not so much an excursion as it was a pair of very fulfilling and very productive day trips because we were home in time for dinner with our host families in Alcalá each night, which for Chloé and I usually occurs around 8:30.  Due to the existence of this dining deadline as well as the payment our bus driver had received in advance from BYU limiting our bus usage time, it was more important than ever that we stick to our itinerary as strictly as possible without "wasting" too much time at certain stops.  This led to a feeling of being a bit rushed once we got to our final sights of the day, but nevertheless everything was absolutely marvelous.

El Aqueducto de Segovia

Friday morning we boarded our bus at about 9:00 and began our drive to Segovia.  Unfortunately, I was rather carsick upon arriving at this beautiful city, but I got over it after eating a bit of my bocadillo de jamón and drinking some water.  Once I stopped feeling like my insides wanted to be on my outside, I was immediately struck by the grand presence of the Roman Aqueduct, which contains over 160 arches throughout the entire immense construction.  As I stood there listening to our tour guide (who resembled a distant relative of Professor Umbridge, might I add) staring up at this wondrous creation of architecture, I could not help but contemplate how small we all really are in this world.  Not only literally in comparison to such grandiose works of art, but also figuratively in the great span of time.  This may sound a bit cheesy and soul-searching, but I challenge anyone who has had the privilege to view any form of European architecture up close and personal to not have at least one epiphany in the realm of self discovery.  This aqueduct no longer possesses the capability to function as an aqueduct due to the erosion of time and water passage, but the fact that such a grand piece of architecture is still standing hundred of years later has inspired and will continue to inspire many people.

My favorite snippet of information that our tour guide shared with us was the most common legend relating to the construction of the aqueduct.  It went something like this; there was once a young woman who was forced to climb up and down the hills of Segovia day after day to fetch water for herself, and it came to a point where she said that she would give anything to not have to do this taxing chore any longer.  In her despair, she called to the devil and offered her soul in exchange for a way out of her chore before the dawn of the next day, and the devil gladly accepted.  The woman awoke in the middle of the night and saw the devil and his demons building the aqueduct and, realizing her mistake, she quickly prayed to be freed of this deadly contract.  Just before the keystone to the last arch was put into place, dawn touched upon the aqueduct, confirming the devil's failure to complete his promise.  After the woman confessed, her priest ordered that a keystone with the Virgin Mary and Saint Stephen be placed in the aqueduct to commemorate this miracle.

El Alcázar

After receiving this rich information about the aqueduct, we began to trek up the hilly streets of Segovia, passing the various Islamic-style architectural patterns that could be seen on the outside of the majority of the apartment and office buildings.  We saw another incredible cathedral, but only from the outside due to a lack of time.  The church where Isabella was crowned could be seen from the cathedral, and the only reason she was not crowned in the magnificent cathedral was due to the fact that it had not yet been constructed.  Around a corner and down a few side streets, we came to my favorite part of my adventure in Spain thus far: the Alcázar, one of the most famous European castles and also the castle that is rumored to have inspired the Sleeping Beauty castle that currently stands in the happiest place on earth, Disneyland.

The Throne of Isabella and Ferdinand

Real armor and ancient weapons

Not only did we get to take at least a dozen pictures outside of the Alcázar, but we also got to tour inside! We saw the preserved throne of Ferdinand and Isabella and countless symbols within that testified to their belief that the King and Queen shared power and were not only partners, but partners with an equal share of the power.  The various chambers, beds, preserved tapestries, and extravagant paintings were extremely fitting for a castle and even more incredible than I had anticipated.  Suits of armor, lances, swords, and a crossbow were all displayed stupendously in the armory, connected to the guarded vault where gold was once stored.

Just a small taste of the Palace Gardens

After leaving the castle and poking around the small shops and making a few purchases, we were off to La Granja to view the Royal Palace.  I had thought before that the preserved items in the Alcázar were difficult to take in, but the items within the walls of the Royal Palace were the epitome of luxury itself.  Every room, every ceiling, every door, every French-designed, still functioning clock was shined and primed to perfection.  I wish I had photos to share of some of the amazing things we beheld within those walls, but we were prohibited from taking photographs inside the building, much to our disappointment.  Once our tour had concluded, we were able to spend only about 15 minutes in the palace gardens due to the time crunch we were in, but we still were able to take some amazing pictures of the fountain and the flowers that made up this fantasy land of nature.  Poor Professor Cluff had to practically start yelling at us to get us to leave the palace gardens behind, but in my opinion it was worth any of his anger and frustration to procure a few more pictures.

Las Casas Colgadas

After a night full of rest and sleep in Alcalá, we departed at 9:00 am in the opposite direction toward Uclés and Cuenca.  In Uclés we saw an ancient Monastery where we took a brief audio tour, and although there were some marvelous things inside I was not nearly as taken with this particular stop.  Directly after Uclés we made our way to Cuenca, which is a town that is most well known for "Las Casas Colgadas," translated into English literally as "The Hanging Houses."  These houses were built on the edge of a very steep, very large hill that may as well be considered a cliff and appear to be suspended in mid air due to the fact that they hang over the edge of said cliff so precariously.  It was a little eerie to walk underneath these houses as we ascended the hill to the most bustling part of the city without feeling as if one of the houses might collapse at any moment.  It definitely reminded me of the third book in A Series of Unfortunate Events where the three orphans lived under the care of Aunt Josephine in a house that was more than 50% situated off the side of a coastal cliff.  Luckily, we did not witness any sort of disasters or old men disguised as pirates that day attempting to push people out of the windows of these "hanging houses."  We had also planned to tour the Cathedral of Cuenca in addition to El Museo Español de Arte Absracto, but we arrived just before siesta time so everything closed down before we had properly oriented ourselves.  However, what appeared as an unanticipated inconvenience quickly transformed into two hours of free time spent wandering this Spanish city and the mysteries it concealed.  We even got to witness the end of a Spanish wedding! How many American college students can say that have done that?

Until next week, mis amigos.  This weekend's adventure: BARCELONA! Get ready for a plethora of pictures and adventures that will surely be coming your way.  :)

Northward bound: Silos, Burgos, y León

The most difficult question currently confounding my thoughts and turning my normally smooth writing into a jumbled mess of rambling phrases is this: when it comes to northern Spain, where can I begin? Can my words possibly do justice to this most marvelous land so flawlessly mixes city life with green lush countryside?  I already know that this post will not even come close to doing my excursion to Silos, Burgos, and León the proper justice it deserves, but I am willing to take the plunge with hopes of transmitting even an inkling of my experiences this past weekend to my friends and family back in the states.

Our first stop was in the city of Lerma, where we soon realized that the majority of our group had not properly dressed for cooler climate of the North.  We had done a bit of research on the weather as we were packing, but we made the dire mistake of only paying attention to the highs and not factoring in the large temperature difference between morning, midday, and evening.  Luckily most girls had come equipped with extra jackets and cardigans, so what might have been an extremely cold and uncomfortable few days for me was quickly remedied with the help of some willing and dear friends in my group.  However, we took advantage of the blustery day and had a sort of mini photo shoot near the ancient Roman walls that we explored in the city.  Not to say that we don't already make a photo shoot out of every historical site that we visit, but this city was full of a lot of picturesque mixtures of ancient architecture and vast green countryside.

Shot of the Covarrubias
Plaza

Next was Covarrubias, one of my favorite small towns that we have visited thus far.  As we got off of the bus I felt as if I had never really awakened from my short nap on the bus; all of the white buildings with the typical contrasting flower decorations combined with the small antique shots and cobblestone streets gave me the distinct impression that I was on the set of a small town, European romance movie.  After exploring the small shops and the various knick-knacks and treasures within, we took a small tour of the church and I was again blown away by the immense detail and effort that past Catholics had put into building this small town church building.  Little did I know that this beautifully constructed church and the details within would soon pale in comparison to what I would witness in the days to come.

Coming out of the Desfiladero
de la Muela

About an hour or so later we arrived in Silos, but were forced to change our original itinerary a bit since we arrived in the city at approximately 2:30 pm, also known as siesta time.  I cannot recall whether or not I went into depth about this most wonderful Spanish tradition, but nevertheless I will offer a quick review.  Every day from about 2:00 pm to 5:00 pm, everything across the country in Spain shuts down.  The stores close, the streets are empty, and all for the common purpose of obtaining a little mid-afternoon shut eye.  It is, in a word, amazing.  I am already planning on trying to alter my class schedule winter semester so that I can continue to take my daily siestas that I have already grown so accustomed to while living here in Spain.  Anyhow, back to Silos: while we waited for the Monasterio de Santo Domingo (monastery) to open up, we went to a mountain pass by the name of Desfiladero de la Muela.  This mountain path led us through a series of nooks and crannies between, underneath, and through large establishments of mountain rock that had a shocking resemblance to something that one might encounter in Zion's Nat'l Park in southern Utah.  Walking along this desfiladero was a refreshing experience to mix in with all of the historical sites we had visited, because as much as my appreciation for history has multiplied during this program, I have always had a deep appreciation for the miracles and mysteries that can be found in nature.  We then returned to Silos and were some of the first to enter the monastery once it opened back up after siesta.  We were guided by a lovely woman (whose name now escapes me) that led us through the monastery, sharing her abundant knowledge of the Roman columns and overall construction of the monastery as well as pointing out the specific carvings of Christ and other Saints that were so intricately carved throughout.

El Monasterio de Santo
Domingo

My favorite ceiling shot inside the
Catedral de Burgos

That Thursday evening, we arrived in the city of Burgos and were given free reign to explore the city and find our own place to dine out.  Three of my friends and I found a slightly sketchy looking, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that served Doner Kebabs, which I had yet to try since arriving in Spain.  The meat was fantastic and we had a great time conversing in Spanish and walking around in the crisp evening air.  The next morning after taking advantage of the continental breakfast buffet, we began walking with our guide toward the Catedral de Burgos, one of the most famous cathedrals in all of Spain as well as in Europe overall.  This cathedral did not just exceed my expectations, it blew them completely out of the water.  It is still hard to fathom the amount of hours and labor put into constructing this one building; every inch, every stone, every fragment of stained glass window possessed more detail and beauty than I had ever dreamed possible previously.  The idea that so many artists and so many brilliant minds put so much effort and time into creating such a place devoted to pure worship absolutely blows me away.  There are certain constructions in that cathedral that to this day cannot be recreated or imitated, even with the plethora of advanced technology and cast knowledge that we now have at our disposal.  This cathedral is, in a word, a miracle.  After exploring the most captivating secrets and details of this mind boggling cathedral, we had a few hours to walk around the city of Burgos and it didn't take long for us to all fall head over heels for this northern Spanish city.  I purchased not one, but two pastries simultaneously, quickly realizing that everything I had ever heard about European pastries could not have prepared me for the sweet, rich flavors that those babies packed.  During our meandering, we also observed that men from the North seem to be much better looking, but we still have a lot of traveling to do so we will see which region wins for the highest percentage of hombres guapos. ;)

With heavy hearts, we said goodbye to the lovely city of Burgos and made our way to León.  Once again, after getting settled in our hotel rooms we had the afternoon to ourselves and the evening free to explore and dine in any way we pleased.  That night a group of six of us went out in search for a trendy tapas bar in a hot spot of the city and after a bit of searching were able to find a relatively affordable place that fit our criteria.  As is custom in tapas bars, we all shared a bit of what we ordered with each other, but consumed the majority of our own tapas ourselves.  My choices of the evening were croquettas, which resemble giant mozzarella sticks but are filled with a mixture of potatoes ham and other substances rather than cheese, and a plate of jamón, which was a portion of nothing but ham that more resembled perosciutto.  Both plates were wonderfully delicious and I walked contentedly back to the hotel with my friend Sarah with a full stomach and a happy heart.

El Catedral de León

On Saturday morning we arose early and met our guide for our tour through León at about 8:30 in the morning.  Our tour began on our bus, first receiving more general information about the overall layout of this large northern city and some of its main attractions as our guide spoke to us in Spanish over the intercom system.  We parked the bus near an ancient Roman wall and proceeded to walk along the ancient wall and view some of the most famous spots in León, beginning with a brief stop at la Basílica de San Isidoro, an old Catholic church funded by an ancient king with several depictions of stories in the New Testament throughout the interior and exterior.  Next we saw the Casa Botines, a large building constructed by Antonio Gaudi with a statue of the prestigious artist included on a bench, capturing the man admiring his work permanently in stone, much to the delight of photograph-hungry tourists.  We then proceeded to walk along the very old yet still functional road running through downtown León known as the Calle Ancha (ancha meaning wide) to reach the crowning jewel of our tour: the Catedral de León.

The East interior of the Catedral de León

I could write an entire blog just about the historical information we received in the Cathedral of León with detailed descriptions to pair with each of the dozens of photographs I took while there, but I will simply share my favorite symbolic information that I acquired.  Before I launch into my description, it is important to note that this cathedral has the second largest amount of stained glass windows of all the the cathedrals in Europe, and it is nothing short of breathtaking.  The East side is made up of the largest amount of windows, the most important being the one in the center depicting Christ.  The window depicting Christ was built on the East side so that His would be the first window to be illuminated at the dawn of each day, symbolizing that He is indeed the light and the life of the world.  The northern side was comprised of windows with cool colors and images depicting stories of the Old Testament, the cool colors symbolizing the cooler climate of northern Spain and the cold and dark place that the world was before the birth of Christ.  In contrast, the southern side of the cathedral included warm colors and depictions of the New Testament, symbolizing the world as it was after the light of Christ shined upon it.  Also included in the southern windows were depictions of produce and the working class of southern Spain, flawlessly combining the religious history of the Bible with the history of Spain into a wonderful masterpiece of stained glass window artwork.

Castrillo de los Polvazares

On our way home to Alcalá, we also visited a small town by the name of Castrillo de los Polvazares, a small pueblo characterized by European architecture and bright green doors.  This weekend was another reminder of how blessed I truly am to be here in Spain studying for the semester, I am truly amazed by the history, culture, and wonder that Europe continues to reveal to me on a daily basis, especially during our weekend excursions.  I don't know how any of my future excursions could be more eye opening and life changing than this one, but I said the same thing last weekend.  I know that this weekend will surely hold unique and wonderful life experiences for me, and being able to say that every week makes me one of the luckiest girls in the world.

El Mechón de Pelo: a Lunch Story

CAUTION: THIS STORY IS NOT FOR THE WEAK OF HEART OR STOMACH

Then again, my judgement of a gruesome story may be far different than yours, but don't say that I didn't warn you beforehand.

I know I claimed in my last post that I would from now on be reserving this blog solely for my culturally enlightening excursions; however, earlier this week I had an experience that was far too gag-triggering and laugh-inducing not to share.  On Sunday, my lovely roommate Chloé and I were enjoying a lovely lunch with our mamita after spending the morning at our Spanish ward.  We usually get home around 2:00 and eat shortly after arriving, much to the delight of our ever present appetites that are even more exaggerated after listening, reading, and speaking in scriptural Spanish for the last three hours.  Yes, scriptural Spanish is much harder than Spanish spoken on a daily basis; just think about the elevated and complex language used in the English translations of the Bible and the Book of Mormon and add in a language barrier.

That being said, I was ravenously hungry as was Chloé and had never been more grateful for such a lovely home-cooked meal.  Chicken, green beans, potatoes, ice cold water, a fresh baguette, and fruit for dessert awaited us as we took our separate seats at the dining room table.  The chicken was grilled flawlessly and filled with some sort of delicious cheese, melted to a consistency that suspended its existence somewhere between liquid and solid.  I inhaled contentedly as I took my first few bites of chicken, thinking that nothing on earth could possibly dampen my mood.  It was in that moment that I saw it.  

It, as fate would have it, was nothing other than a long, thick strand of dark hair.  At first glance I supposed that it was merely a small mishap that had fallen onto my plate before it had been served to me, but I was sorely mistaken.  As I grabbed one end of this intrusive accumulation of dead skin cells, my second piece of chicken began to move as well.  This mechón de pelo had in fact been baked inside my second piece of chicken.  The following seconds that it took me to remove said strand of hair from my second piece of chicken seemed as never-ending as the length of the hair I was extracting.  Somewhere in this lapse of time, Chloé happened to look over and, quickly noting my predicament, tried her best not to choke on her food in an attempt to suppress her disgust and, more than anything, laughter.  Our eyes met for a moment, and we silently acknowledged that we could no longer make eye contact for the rest of the meal in fear of bursting into laughter and having to explain an already awkward situation in Spanish.

I quickly moved on to my green beans and potatoes, all the while racking my brain for the best plan of action.  I knew that not touching the remainder of my chicken for the rest of the meal was not an option, because in the Spanish culture (as well as many other cultures), it is assumed that if you do not eat all of your food or at least eat most of it, you must not like it at all.  Rather than risking upsetting my loving host mother and having to explain the situation, I returned to the scene of the crime and began to simply eat the other side of my chicken, opposite of where I had encountered the unwanted and unwelcome strand of hair.  I left a small enough amount of my chicken left that Blanca did not see that anything was out of the ordinary and proceeded to eat my dessert, still unwilling to acknowledge what had just taken place.

As soon as we had excused ourselves from the table and returned to our room to take our siestas, Chloé and I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, finally able to allow our initial reactions to this strand of hair emerge.  As some of you may have noted, Chloé promptly dedicated a Facebook status to my achievement of continuing to eat portions of the chicken after I found the surprise within, which triggered a variety of reactions from our other friends in the group.  However, the main accomplishment I can take away from this experience is this: I have finally found my poker face!

Estremadura: Mérida and Caceres

Outside the Roman theater

I apologize for the lack of posting on this blog as of late, I have been rather busy with various things this past week.  I have also decided for the convenience of myself and in order to not exhaust the attention span of my readers that I will limit my posts to about once a week, and usually write them on our weekly excursions that we take almost every weekend throughout this program.

The trip we took this weekend was to the province in Eastern Spain by the name of Estremadura.  As our host mother Blanca explained to us before the trip, this area of the country is not as big of a tourist attraction as other cities like Barcelona and Sevilla.  It is rather an extremely culturally rich part of the country simply bursting at the seams with history, which I think is just as important as any modernized and beautiful city, if not far more essential.

The Roman Theater of Mérida

After a four hour bus ride, we arrived in Mérida on Friday ready to see the famous Roman Ruins of Mérida.  We had learned just the previous day about the five types of columns that the Romans used in their ancient and precise architecture, with specific instructions from our professor to complete the readings before our trip so that we could fully appreciate the wondrous sights we were to be seeing on our trip to Estremadura.  That's the wonderful thing about study abroad; we didn't just learn about Roman architecture and move on to the next unit, we learned about Roman architecture and then took a specific trip to see the ruins for ourselves.

The Roman Arena, where many
 a gladiator fight was held  

I had studied our assigned readings for class ahead of time as well as taken a good look at our itinerary for our weekend trip, but neither of these things could have prepared me for what I was about to see.  As I beheld the Roman Ruins while listening intently to the historical explanation flowing from the mouth of our tour guide in perfect Spanish, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of awe and almost insignificance as I contemplated the thousands of people who had stood in these locations hundreds of years before me.  The Roman theater was by far my favorite, but we also saw the ruins of the Roman arena, the Temple of Diana, and many other Roman ruins that day.

The famous cistern located under the
museum of Caceres

The remainder of our Friday was spent in Caceres, where we spent time in an antique bookshop before having a lovely meal at a tapas bar next to the Plaza Mayor of Caceres.  We spent the night in a hotel just outside of town with w beautiful view of the Spanish countryside, another humbling moment used to remind me just how lucky I am to be studying here in Spain for the semester.  Saturday morning began with the best continental breakfast I have ever had and then we were off to be guided through the historical portion of Caceres, which was equally inspiring as we saw countless homes of past noblemen and explored the Museum of Caceres, filled with endless treasures and knowledge of our ancestors.  I must admit, sitting through lectures on history of Europe or the United States has never been interesting to me in the slightest, but when I had the opportunity to see history for myself in the form of preserved and restored buildings, towers, theaters, and cisterns, I found myself completely enraptured and actually listening to the historical explanations of our tour guide.  Of all the things I expected to gain from this study abroad experience, a new appreciation for history was certainly not one of them.  However, now that I have been brought into the light, I am definitely not complaining.  

Welcome to the big city, aka MADRID

Yesterday was our first visit to the city of Madrid!  I know that may confuse some of you, since I have been telling everyone that I live in Madrid.  No, I have not been lying, and no, I have not just been a hermit for the last week, as is evident from all the pictures I have been taking.  I technically live in Alcalá de Henares, which is a suburb of Madrid.  So mis amigas y yo have only been partying it up here in Alcalá so far, but now that it is September and our unlimited train passes are now fully operational, we will most likely be spending the majority of our time in the big city.

We met at the train station at 9:00 am yesterday morning and picked up our guide Antonio Caballos (yes, his last name is horses) at one of the stops along the way.  I was already a bit starstruck before even getting into the actual city of Madrid, because being the small town Boise, Idaho girl that I am, I am extremely unaccustomed to large modes of public transportation.  Hopefully by the end of these three months I will be a train and metro professional!  Antonio Caballos showed us around the train station a bit before we switched to the metro to take us all the way to the Puerta Del Sol, which according to several sources is one of the prettiest stops in all of Madrid.

En la Plaza Mayor

As soon as we got off of the metro and out into the beautiful sunshine, not only did I find the Puerta Del Sol very appropriately named, but I was almost overcome with awe.  The wonder and awe that I am actually living in Europe came over me so unexpectedly I found it difficult to express myself, in English or Spanish.  Antonio Caballos began to walk us around some of the highlights of the city, providing brief explanations of each place and its significance to Spaniards in general while also providing his own well-informed opinion.  I didn't quite catch all of what was said since all 18 girls were there as well as Mr. and Mrs. Cluff, making it harder to hear and concentrate on what he was saying.  However, I will share some brief explanations in the captions of the pictures that I include with this post that will hopefully do these amazing sights some justice.

I love European architecture, people
really do live in buildings this beautiful!

After we finished our tour, Antonio Caballos left us to eat our picnic lunches that our Mamitas packed for us (mine was a bocadillo con jamón, aka a ham sandwich) in the Plaza de Isabel located by the Opera.  From there, we split into smaller groups and went shopping.  I practiced some self control and even though I was very tempted to act immediately on certain deals, I only bought one pair of earrings for 3 euros at a small outdoor kiosk.  I continually had to remind myself (with the help of mis amigas) that we will be here for three months and so there is no rush for me to buy absolutely everything that catches my eye.  Anyone who knows me at all is very aware that I have absolutely NO problem with finding things that I like when I shop, and shopping in Europe has definitely been stretching my self control.  I am forcing myself to be frugal right now so that I can buy things later that I know I cannot live without, like a Real Madrid fútbol jersey. :)

El Parque de Buen Retiro (Kensie off to the right)

After our shopping and window shopping, we walked over to the Parque del Buen Retiro, which I consider to be the Central Park of Madrid.  We walked and mostly sat for a few hours there, because we have all started to embrace the siesta and it was our normal nap time.  The park felt like I had stepped into a painting, it was absolutely gorgeous! I will definitely be going back there and taking possibly hundreds of pictures, especially pictures that I can use as references for later paintings.  I also hope to spend an afternoon sketching there one day before it gets too cold.

About to enter one of the many entrances into
the Museo Del Prado

After that came one of my favorite parts of the entire day and one of the most anticipated moments of this trip: visiting the Museo Del Prado.  For this museum, there really are no words.  It is by far one of the most celebrated museums in the world and now I have only a small inkling as to why.  We were there for about an hour and a half yesterday after our student identification cards got us in for free, and I was able to see only a small fraction of the wondrous works of art kept within the building's many rooms.  We plan on going back several times so that we can eventually see all of the Prado to a more full extent rather than trying to swallow it whole without having time to enjoy the small bites of rich culture it has to offer.  After that we headed back to Alcalá on the train and I conversed with a random woman in Spanish, which was a small victory but it made me want to shout out and do an awkward victory dance right then and there because I can already tell that my Spanish is improving! Hasta luego, mis amigos :)