I think that fall has finally come to Granada. The light has changed a little (it gets dark around quarter of nine now), and it's "cool" enough that I can wear my jeans during the day without melting, so I blend in a little better with the locals. This is my favorite season at home, though, so it's a little strange to be here. Send me pumpkin products!
What's new? I feel like I haven't written in ages. Hmmm. Well, one night last week there was a huge fashion show in the center of town produced by some of the local stores, which mainly consisted of seemingly fully-clothed models walking down the runway until - surprise! - they turned around and reminded everyone present that we were in Europe. That same night across the street there was a salsa/cha cha cha concert, and the plaza was filled with coupes over the age of 70 attempting to sway back and forth to the music. Really, really cute. I went to a show that night, a bedroom comedy that came to the Teatro de Isabel la Católica, the main/biggest theater in Granada, from Madrid. It was a Friday night, I really wanted to go to the theater, and didn't really feel like going with anyone. Besides, I believe that was the day that everyone was off on some Arab Bath experience with the group while I was in class, so they weren't around anyway. The show was funny, and it was great to be in a theater, but I only understood about 50 percent of what was going on, what with how fast the actors were speaking, the nuanced dialog, and the fact that I was sitting up in the 4th balcony three kilometers away vertically from the stage. You must understand, of course, that in Spain one doesn't do anything alone; even sitting on a park bench eating a donner kebap (a wonderful gyro-like Middle Eastern pita thingy) is enough to broadcast to the world that you are a social pariah - I know from experience. So, going to a show (which, like many things in Spain, started at 10:30 at night) by oneself is completely unheard of. I could tell that the woman who was seated next to me was already wary of the fact that I was alone, but combine that with the way I didn't laugh at what was apparently one of the funniest lines in the play because I didn't understand any of it, and it was enough for her to conclude that I was a sociopath. Midway through the show, I saw her nudge her husband to put up their armrest so that she could scoot away from me.
I had my final exam today for my intensive course which went as well as could be expected, especially since vocab wasn't on it and I had the prof. correct it with me as soon as I was done. This coming week we're off to Madrid, Toledo, and Segovia to see the same things I saw either two years or four weeks ago, but it'll be nice to travel. I also have a friend from Bates who's in Madrid for the semester, so I'll see her then. After Madrid, I hop on a plane to Brussels for a few days, come back to Granada for two days of class, and then hop a few countries to visit London and my friend Steve who's studying at Oxford. I'll keep you posted.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Friday, 19 September 2008
Chocolate
This post is dedicated to Lila.
Today I was on a walk around the city with one of the women who runs the program here, to learn where the library is, the best bars without Americans, stuff like that. I had my own, special walk because I missed the one with the big group while I was in class. At the end of the group's walk, the program treated everyone to an ice cream cone, and the woman asked me if I, too, would like one. Since I eat gelatto every day here anyway, I have my system (on my way to class), and I hadn't yet had any coffee, so I said, why don't we go to a coffee shop? Perfect. I had been meaning to try hot chocolate here for a while, because as you may have heard, "Spanish hot chocolate" is very different than in the US. They have something here called Cola Cao, which is essentially Nesquick, and you can drink it in hot or cold milk; it's basically hot chocolate mix. Their "hot chocolate," however, is essentially hot fudge which you might put on an ice cream sundae, but maybe even thicker and more chocolatey. Think of the "Chantico" that they used to serve at Starbucks before they ruined my life by discontinuing it. Anyway, so I ordered a "chocolate al café," which I figured would be something like a mocha in the US. I was wrong. Basically, it was a cup of hot fudge with a shot of espresso, and perhaps one of the best drinks I've ever had.
Then, interestingly, my "mom" offered me a banana after lunch, and I figured, why not dig out my jar of peanut butter? She had never tried it and, as she hates sweet things, hated it. I miss my natural, no-sugar-added, make-it-yourself Whole Foods honey-roasted peanut butter, but this Peter Pan stuff is a nice throwback to my childhood.
I'm going back tomorrow to get another hot chocolate. But now I'm running late for class, and if I'm going to have time to get gelatto on the way, I've gotta go now.
Today I was on a walk around the city with one of the women who runs the program here, to learn where the library is, the best bars without Americans, stuff like that. I had my own, special walk because I missed the one with the big group while I was in class. At the end of the group's walk, the program treated everyone to an ice cream cone, and the woman asked me if I, too, would like one. Since I eat gelatto every day here anyway, I have my system (on my way to class), and I hadn't yet had any coffee, so I said, why don't we go to a coffee shop? Perfect. I had been meaning to try hot chocolate here for a while, because as you may have heard, "Spanish hot chocolate" is very different than in the US. They have something here called Cola Cao, which is essentially Nesquick, and you can drink it in hot or cold milk; it's basically hot chocolate mix. Their "hot chocolate," however, is essentially hot fudge which you might put on an ice cream sundae, but maybe even thicker and more chocolatey. Think of the "Chantico" that they used to serve at Starbucks before they ruined my life by discontinuing it. Anyway, so I ordered a "chocolate al café," which I figured would be something like a mocha in the US. I was wrong. Basically, it was a cup of hot fudge with a shot of espresso, and perhaps one of the best drinks I've ever had.
Then, interestingly, my "mom" offered me a banana after lunch, and I figured, why not dig out my jar of peanut butter? She had never tried it and, as she hates sweet things, hated it. I miss my natural, no-sugar-added, make-it-yourself Whole Foods honey-roasted peanut butter, but this Peter Pan stuff is a nice throwback to my childhood.
I'm going back tomorrow to get another hot chocolate. But now I'm running late for class, and if I'm going to have time to get gelatto on the way, I've gotta go now.
Thursday, 18 September 2008
Coro
I had written an enormous post about my experience at the Chorus of the City of Granada yesterday, but I didn't really like it, so I decided to summarize it for you. Here goes:
* I was supposed to join the chorus of the University, but apparently the woman in my program office who was helping just decided to google "chorus granada" and picked the first chorus that came up.
*It was in the windowless basement of an old and crumbling building which may or may not have been a church, due to the signs proclaiming that "Jesus is Love," while other walls had bizarre modern art, and still other had what must have been cards from Rorschach tests. I couldn't put my finger on what was missing from the room until the director took out a box with a battery-operated Casio keyboard with a two-octave range.
*The Spanish choir members are all over 40 and are from all walks of life, and the other half of the chorus, HALF!, is made up of foreign students who all apparently googled the same thing, mainly blonds from California.
*I was the only base at the rehearsal, which went alright except that the conductor was upset that I told him I didn't need to go over my part again, when he asked, condescendingly, how many people from the chorus weren't from Spain.
*We sang three songs; one in Latin for which I could have given a pronunciation workshop, one in Catalan (a regional language in Spain) which no one spoke nor had any idea how to pronounce, and the Hallelujah Chorus from the Messiah, a piece in English which I know well, which was hilarious to hear sung by Spaniards with extremely thick Spanish accents.
*The worst moment of the day was when the woman who led us to the building came over after rehearsal to tell me how great we were and to thank me for coming. She leaned in a bit while she was saying goodbye, so I figured she was doing the two kiss thing again, so I leaned in, she leaned away, and I got completely flustered. I started asking her in English, "how does the kiss thing work...," when I realized she was looking at my strangely, since she had no idea what I was saying. Then I asked in Spanish, and she replied that it was to say hello and goodbye. "Yes," I thought, "that's what I was doing," when she laughed, told me it didn't matter at this point, and walked away. Argh, different cultures!
My friend from my group who also went to sing with the chorus and I aren't sure that we're going back. Unfortunately, the group's first concert is in the Capilla Real, a beautiful chapel attached to the main cathedral in Granada where Ferdinand and Isabella are buried along with their daughter, Juana la Loca (she wasn't actually crazy, but that's another post), her husband, and a grandchild. It's a beautiful place, and would be an honor to sing there (some bishop is coming!), but I'll be in London, and my friend will be in Morocco with the group. Oh well.
On another note, I just walked into the kitchen where my Señora is already cooking, and she told me that she was preparing a homemade cream of mushroom soup for me for dinner. "Oh," I said, "I loved that the last time," because she's already made it. "You've never had this! This is special soup, with mushrooms!" I argued with her for a second, because she made the soup last week, but I've accepted that she's losing her mind - she's been staying with a sick friend at the hospital every night for the last three nights and hasn't been getting much sleep. At least I like the soup, and I've still got about 1/4 of my jar of peanut butter left - I bought it a day and a half ago, but I'm a bit of an addict.
* I was supposed to join the chorus of the University, but apparently the woman in my program office who was helping just decided to google "chorus granada" and picked the first chorus that came up.
*It was in the windowless basement of an old and crumbling building which may or may not have been a church, due to the signs proclaiming that "Jesus is Love," while other walls had bizarre modern art, and still other had what must have been cards from Rorschach tests. I couldn't put my finger on what was missing from the room until the director took out a box with a battery-operated Casio keyboard with a two-octave range.
*The Spanish choir members are all over 40 and are from all walks of life, and the other half of the chorus, HALF!, is made up of foreign students who all apparently googled the same thing, mainly blonds from California.
*I was the only base at the rehearsal, which went alright except that the conductor was upset that I told him I didn't need to go over my part again, when he asked, condescendingly, how many people from the chorus weren't from Spain.
*We sang three songs; one in Latin for which I could have given a pronunciation workshop, one in Catalan (a regional language in Spain) which no one spoke nor had any idea how to pronounce, and the Hallelujah Chorus from the Messiah, a piece in English which I know well, which was hilarious to hear sung by Spaniards with extremely thick Spanish accents.
*The worst moment of the day was when the woman who led us to the building came over after rehearsal to tell me how great we were and to thank me for coming. She leaned in a bit while she was saying goodbye, so I figured she was doing the two kiss thing again, so I leaned in, she leaned away, and I got completely flustered. I started asking her in English, "how does the kiss thing work...," when I realized she was looking at my strangely, since she had no idea what I was saying. Then I asked in Spanish, and she replied that it was to say hello and goodbye. "Yes," I thought, "that's what I was doing," when she laughed, told me it didn't matter at this point, and walked away. Argh, different cultures!
My friend from my group who also went to sing with the chorus and I aren't sure that we're going back. Unfortunately, the group's first concert is in the Capilla Real, a beautiful chapel attached to the main cathedral in Granada where Ferdinand and Isabella are buried along with their daughter, Juana la Loca (she wasn't actually crazy, but that's another post), her husband, and a grandchild. It's a beautiful place, and would be an honor to sing there (some bishop is coming!), but I'll be in London, and my friend will be in Morocco with the group. Oh well.
On another note, I just walked into the kitchen where my Señora is already cooking, and she told me that she was preparing a homemade cream of mushroom soup for me for dinner. "Oh," I said, "I loved that the last time," because she's already made it. "You've never had this! This is special soup, with mushrooms!" I argued with her for a second, because she made the soup last week, but I've accepted that she's losing her mind - she's been staying with a sick friend at the hospital every night for the last three nights and hasn't been getting much sleep. At least I like the soup, and I've still got about 1/4 of my jar of peanut butter left - I bought it a day and a half ago, but I'm a bit of an addict.
Tuesday, 16 September 2008
La Ofrenda Floral
Yesterday was the festival day of the Virgen de las Angustias, or the Virgin of Anguish, here in Granada. The cathedral commissioned by the Catholic Kings is the most important church in the city, but Granada also has a basilica, which is where you can find the city's patron Virgin, so named because she is perpetually crying, holding the body of Christ. Now I never knew this, but all of these "Virgins" that pop up in traditionally Catholic countries are all the virgin Mary, mother of Jesus, with different interpretations of her dress and physical appearance, and representative of different crucial moments in her life. I guess I never made the connection that they were all Mary, but really, where else would all of these virgins have been coming from? Anyway, on the 5th of September, the whole city (it seems!) passes by the front of the basilica to look in at the Virgin, and make an offering of flowers. It's a bit like a parade, with each of the city's emergency services departments stopping by with all their vehicles, 500-member families with flags bearing their shields singing with guitars, a troop of traditional Andalucían dancers, and one idiot pilot from the Spanish National Guard who was flying WAY too low in his helicopter. After he dropped flowers out the door for the Virgin, he flew directly over the park where I was having coffee with my professor as part of our class' cultural excursion to the Ofrenda, producing so much wind that I didn't stop coughing until 11 that night because of the dust and draining most of the water out of the Fountain of Pomegranites. Most upset of all were the waiters who had taken refuge inside, who now had to come back out to sweep away the four inches of dust off of their outdoor eating areas and pick up the fallen table settings. It was a little like being in a tornado, or perhaps a scene from Miss Saigon.
These are all small bouquets of about five flowers, brought individually to be placed on the façade. 
In other news, I found out that I will be able to take all four (or it might be five) of my classes directly at the University of Granada. Apparently, if I do, everyone will hate me, because no one studying at the University's Center for Modern Languages (where I am now) has ever done that, and the program I'm here with is the only one in Granada who wrote into their contract that, if one of their students wants all of their classes at the University, the Center for Languages will let them go. I'm a little apprehensive about being in classes entirely with Spanish students, but I guess that's why I'm here, and I've heard that Spanish university courses are much easier than at home ;o)
These are all small bouquets of about five flowers, brought individually to be placed on the façade. 
In other news, I found out that I will be able to take all four (or it might be five) of my classes directly at the University of Granada. Apparently, if I do, everyone will hate me, because no one studying at the University's Center for Modern Languages (where I am now) has ever done that, and the program I'm here with is the only one in Granada who wrote into their contract that, if one of their students wants all of their classes at the University, the Center for Languages will let them go. I'm a little apprehensive about being in classes entirely with Spanish students, but I guess that's why I'm here, and I've heard that Spanish university courses are much easier than at home ;o)
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