Día Dos en Marruecos

(The Medina in Rabat, Morocco)

I volunteered to wake up first (I don't know why I do these things) so I stumbled on up to the bathroom. Apparently the hot water was not turned on yet, because I enjoyed a frigid shower/bath/avoid-the-water-dance. Lizzie and Christine got to sleep later and had warm showers. Humph. But then we all ate breakfast together (bread, rolls, apricot jam, this brown-sugar-almond dough, and tea) while watching "Friends" in English with Arabic subtitles, (the TV was on the entire time we were there).

We then had to run to meet the rest of the group and headed off in our bus to a language school in Rabat. Here, we had a discussion about Islamic and Western images of each other with a professor from the school. It was interesting to hear the professor's points of view about the importance of both modern and traditional education and the way in which she was raised by her mother and the way in which she raises her own daughters.

Then we got back on the bus and headed towards the Roman ruins of Chellah. En route, we were provided cookies and fruit (Arnd was really good about keeping us fed, and we all got really excited when we heard, "I have cookies!" from the front seat). We got to Chellah, which is the ruins of an ancient Roman fortress and city. There were gardens and the ruins of a mosque. While in Morocco, we weren't allowed to take pictures of Moroccan people without their permission or mosques and government buildings because of tradition and security issues. But because Chellah was a ruin, pictures were allowed. There was also a fountain to which women prayed for fertility (the fountain houses eels - I think you can figure out the symbolism there). Also near the fountain were about 25 stray cats that all live together. I was really excited about the cats, and some of my friends have pictures of me playing with the cats while everyone else was looking at the fountain.

We then got back on the bus and headed to the Mausoleum of King Mohammad V, which is really ornate and huge. We got there just as the Friday afternoon prayer was letting out (the most important of the week) and got to walk around while all the Moroccans were heading home for the traditional Friday afternoon couscous. Right near the Mausoleum was the half-finished remains of what would have been a huge mosque and tower. An earthquake way back when prevented it's completion, but you can tell how huge the place would have been. We were also told the three subjects that are taboo in Morocco: criticism of the current king, criticism of Islam, and the sub-sahara issue. We weren't allowed to mention any of these things so that we wouldn't insult anyone, but between taboo subjects and not taking pictures of things, I felt like I was going to slip up.

We then headed back to our homestays for our own lunch of couscous. Lizzie, Christine, Isabel, and I had the traditional chicken and vegetable couscous, which comes out in one huge communal bowl. The aunt and grandmother ate with their hands as is usually done, but the rest of us had spoons. There was so much couscous when we started that I didn't think we would make a dent, but I should have known better. The bowl was pretty much clean by the time we were done. Then they brought out a fruit platter, what they call milk (which I would call liquified sour cream), and more Moroccan tea.

We then headed back to our meeting point and our group walked to the Medina where we were scheduled to meet some Moroccan university students who would showing us around. I think we were all surprised that they were all guys. Two of the Peace Corps ex-volunteers we were traveling with (they're training to be the program's tour guides) turned to Lizzie and I and told us that Moroccan men are very forward and that we had to refuse any dates the guys offered us. This just made me nervous, per usual, but it was still a fun afternoon. We wandered around the town and the Medina and I was chatting with Ahmed (one of the guys who was a recent grad and had just started his own language school in Casablanca). He broached the boyfriend subject within the first half hour, so that was awkward, but I veered the conversation away from that topic pretty quickly. Too bad, though - he was tall, dark, and handsome, and both older and taller than me.

Our group consisted of Lizzie, Christine, Don (my Korean posse - you'll see the pictures) and I. The students took us to an outdoor cafe where we had tea and Hawaii sodas, although mine was infested by bees as soon as it was opened. There were more Moroccan students that joined us at the cafe, and by this point, it was about 3 or 4 Moroccan guys to each of us girls. I felt special. We chilled for a good 2 hours and just talked about Morocco and whatever else came up (I had a 45 minute conversation about cats with Brahim - I'm a crazy cat lady, but he likes cats, too, so it's okay). We also met this lady, Debbie, who is an American who recently decided to make a life change and just up and moved to Morocco without a house or job. She's since established herself, but I thought it was really cool that she had the guts to do that.

After a sketchy bathroom break, we all headed back to meet the whole group and after exchanging e-mails, our BC group headed to one of the homestays with two of the Peace Corps ex-volunteers, who spoke about their experiences. Both were stationed in rural Morocco, and had a lot of insight into the county. One of the girls mentioned that it's common to see men hanging out with their friends during the day while the women are at home. But she says that she thinks this is often misinterpreted by Westerners. While we see this as a women's rights issue, it's actually that the men are kicked out of the house during the day so that the women can finish all the housework without interruption. I thought it was an interesting perspective. The volunteers, Katie and Ana, also talked about their personal experiences, and Katie said for the first 9 months, she woke up every morning wondering if she could live with herself if she went home. After two years, they both consider themselves only proficient in their rural languages, but say that the Peace Corps was the most rewarding experience of their lives. Since hearing them talk, I've been through the Peace Corps' website, but it might be too intense for me. That's a life decision right there. Debbie also joined us at this talk, as did a study-abroad student who was living with the family for the semester. He was awkward, as he made comments that were both vague and somewhat insulting towards the Moroccan family and our BC group. Arnd had to pick up the mood after each thing this kid said, but he was successful, as everything he said with his German accent put most of us in a good mood.

So then on the schedule was the Hammam Baths. Moroccan people bath once a week at these public baths which are these huge, steaming, shower rooms (separate for men and women). Both parties wear only bottoms and you pay extra to have a professional scrub you down with a sandpaper-like cloth until you've rid yourself of the top few layers of skin (who needs those anyway?) Unfortunately, when our pack of American girls showed up, the price for that experience shot up to 50 Dirhams each. We all agreed that we could scrub ourselves. Now, I had put a great deal of thought into this process. Our tour guides said we could wear bathing suits, but recommended just bras and panties, and suggested that to fit in, we wear just panties. Well, I was sweating bullets over this all day, but when we got there, we all figured, "no regrets!" I'll let you guess what happened - I'll just say it was definitely liberating and that you come out of a Hammam Bath squeaky clean!

We went back in our small groups to dinner with the homestay families - at our place we had chickpea soup, bread, tea, and cookies (one kind that I thought was coffee flavored, but was actually black sesame seed dough balls - Lizzie and Christine recognized it from Korean cuisine). We gave the family some chocolate bars we had bought on the way back from the Hammam, and then stayed up and talked to Zenip (the 18-year-old teenage daughter who was our English-speaking contact in the family). We talked about boys, and she said, "of course I've had a boyfriend! The students at school will think you're weird if you don't." Christine has similarly never had a boyfriend either, so we comforted each other after hearing this cultural tidbit. It seems Arabic and Western cultures are maybe more similar than we thought. After a good hour of talking - Zenip was really curious about American dating, too - we all went to bed and slept like rocks.

Día Uno en Marruecos

(Me with a baby camel on the Atlantic Coast of Morocco)

We have an awful lot to talk about. I have a feeling that some of these Morocco posts will be close to book-length, but they will be terribly exciting book-length posts, and definitely worth every second.

I got out of class on Wednesday at 7:30 and didn't consciously realize that the bus left at 10, so I ended up having to book it back to Julia's, switch bags, and run to the bus station (literally, at times). I did make it in time and was in a good mood, because Baquita had packed me two gigantic sandwiches. I had left a note on the table before I left for class saying I was going to be in a hurry and just needed some food to carry with me. I thought I was going to come home to Julia yelling at me about organization and good planning, but instead, I found two sandwiches on the counter. I was relieved to say the least.

The bus ride to Algeciras was eight miserably uncomfortable hours. The BC girls in front of Lizzie and I insisted on pushing their seats back as far as they would go (the only thing that stopped them was our crunched-up knees that weren't going to smush any further). After very little sleep, we got to Algeciras at about 6 am and chilled at the bus station until we met up with our group leaders at 8. There were enough BC kids for two 12 person groups, so they started calling off the names of the first group. With each name that was called, I wanted more and more to be in the second group, and thankfully, I was. We were basically an awesome bunch of BC kids plus two ladies from Spain, and our tour leader, Arnd, of the introspective variety complete with German accent. He sounded just like Will Ferrell in "The Producers" and this thought often forced me to laugh at inappropriate moments. Say to yourself, "Does anyone want to climb the mountain and eat some cookies" in a German accent and you'll know what I mean.

Following Arnd, we all got on the ferry that would take us to Tangier. We passed Gibraltar while on the boat, which was nifty. I always pictured it as a cliff, but it's more like a separate mountain - go figure. Once we got to Tanier and were walking to the port, these Moroccan ladies that worked for the ferry company pointed these little white medical gadgets (think Star Trek) at us with no explanation. We were all a tad alarmed, but then one of the Spanish ladies explained that they were checking to see if we had swine flu. I didn't, no worries.

We then exchanged some euros for Dirhams, the currency in Morocco, and took off in our little bus for downtown Tangier. We walked through a food market, which was so classic it could have been at Disney World and then headed to the DARNA women's center. DARNA offers cheap language and skill classes to Moroccan women so that they can find jobs to help support their families. A person is considered illiterate in Morocco if they speak less than 2 languages, so most women take jobs in factories and sewing shops, which require less written and oral skills. Two students, Hajar and Khadija, gave us a tour and then we all sat down to Moroccan tea and cookies. Moroccan tea is wonderful - I didn't think I would like it, but it is wonderful. It is green tea with mint leaves and a lot of sugar. They drink a ton of it with every meal, and in my opinion, Morocco even smells like Moroccan tea. We had the chance to talk to the two students about women's rights in Morocco. Apparently, the current king, Mohammad VI, has given more rights to women, such as raising the marriage age from 15 to 18, decreeing that women must actually agree to a divorce, and allowing polygamy only if there is a really good reason. Whatever floats your boat, I say. We then headed downstairs for lunch, which was chicken tangin (chicken, potatoes, and green beans cooked to delectability). I was seriously enjoying the food in Morocco and am definitely attempting these recipes when I get home.

We then got back on the bus and drove along the Atlantic coast towards Asilah. We stopped at a scenic outlook to take pictures, and noticed that there were camels strolling around on the beach. We were all excited to take pictures of camels when Arnd said, "The camels are for you. Go ride the camels," (remember the accent). So we did! It was very exciting and I took many pictures. The only scary part was that to let you off, camels literally fall to their knees. Camels are very large and this fall is quite a drop. You really have to hang on during this process and many curse words were uttered by others in my group as their camels plummeted to the ground. I had the opposite problem, though. My camel was grumpy and refused to let me off. It took the two owners 5 minutes to get my camel to fall down and I was very nervous, because the camel was making angry sounds and I thought it was about to take off down the beach.

We got back on the bus and drove to Asilah, where we toured the town and heard the call to worship that all mosques perform 5 times a day. It's actually a pretty cool effect to hear all the mosques in a city reciting these ancient Arabic prayers. Very Moroccan.

After buying snacks for 10 Dirhams each (or 10 euro cents) we got back on the bus for a 3 hour drive to Rabat, the capital of Morocco. Groups of 2 or 3 of us each stayed with a different host family in Rabat, and about 5 minutes before we met the families, Arnd gave us a sheet of pleasantries in Arabic we could say to the family. The only problem was that these phrases really get repetitive after a while - there are only so many times you can say "Thank you" (shukran) or "Delicious" (bnin) in one sitting. After about 3 minutes, my Arabic really comes to a halt.

But anyway, Lizzie, Christine, and I were one group and when we got to our host family's house we were really excited to see a whole table full of pastries, breads, and Moroccan tea waiting for us. One of the Spanish ladies, Isabel (who speaks only Spanish - good practice for me), also joined us for meals, and we ate a lot. The Moroccan family then took us on a walk around the Medina (a market neighborhood) and when we came back, the table was set again, this time with a huge pasta dish in the middle. We had thought the first spread was dinner, but apparently that was just appetizers. Everyone else was worried about having to eat again, but by this point, I was considering moving in.

So we ate again and then the three of us girls went to bed. Moroccan houses are pretty nifty. There are usually 2 or 3 floors and an open-air center courtyard, with all the rooms around the sides. The bedrooms have long benches that wrap around the walls, with mattress-like cushions on top. These are couches during the day and beds at night. The walls have some pretty intense tile-work and the fabrics on the furniture were really elegant. The bathroom was upstairs, and luckily for us, it was fully operational and had a western-style toilet. The grandmother had her own room, and the mom and kids had another. I think the dad's and uncle's rooms were upstairs somewhere. The three of us girls passed out pretty quickly, and while two of us were concerned about going to bed on a full stomach (I still don't understand the problem) one of us was making mental notes to check house prices in Morocco (I'm really good at eating and then sleeping).

Una Toalla, Por Favor

(Railings at La Plaza de España in Sevilla, Spain)

Today was a much better day than yesterday. I first went to Historia del Presente, where I answered a question correctly (in Spanish and everything) and then, during my 3.5 hour break in between classes, I went with Lizzie to the bank and to the supermarket - she is still replacing things from her lost backpack. We stayed close to Carlos III, but it was good to see more of Getafe, the town in which the school is located. We also spoke in Spanish the whole time, so we were rather productive.

After lunch, I headed up to the computer lab to study some Spanish, and it just so happened that Guilermo was sitting at the computer next to me. We chatted for a bit, and he said we should meet up for an Intercambio sometime (language practice sessions between American and Spanish students). I agreed, so I'll keep you updated. I was pretty pleased with myself.

Then I went to Spanish class and found out how to order food in restaurants, bars, by myself, with other people, for other people, in formal situations, and informal situations, among other things. Personally, I think they've over-complicated the process a bit.

On my way back to Julia's, I renewed my metro card for October and finally bought toilet paper (I was pretty excited). Since the Morocco Exchange organization told us to bring our own toilet paper for the weekend and I wasn't about to attempt that conversation with Julia, I bought my own and hid it in my closet so that she doesn't find it, (hopefully). She came in a few minutes later (I tried not to look like I was hiding something) to tell me that it is my Saint's Day today (9/29). Today is Angel's Day, and I'm named after the archangel Gabriel, therefore, in Spain, today is kind-of like a birthday for me (although there is no cake involved - which, in my opinion, would make Saints' Days much more exciting). In the past, Spaniards celebrated their Saint's Day instead of their birthday, but in modern times, birthdays (and cake) have taken precedence.

Then during dinner I used the other half of what I learned in Spanish today (asking for objects and favors), to ask Julia if I could take a towel and sheet with me to Morocco (also on Morocco Exchange's packing list). Although she said no to the sheet ("it will be too heavy" was the excuse), she surprisingly said yes to the towel. I thought the idea of her linens being transported to Morocco would push her over the edge, but she agreed, (as long as I took only white ones, so that they can be bleached when I come back).

We also had pasta for dinner, (well I had pasta, she had liquified vegetables) which was a nice surprise, and ever since, I've been studying my Spanish. The Spanish words are currently fighting each other in my brain.

Más fotografías!

I've uploaded more pictures! There are some in the new "Gigi in Madrid" album and all the photos from my trip in the "Gigi in Sevilla" album.

Here's the link: http://gigiinmadrid.shutterfly.com

Enjoy!

Muchas Lágrimas

(El Rastro in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday, my alarm went off 7 am and I couldn't think of why on earth I had set it so early. Then I remembered that Lizzie and I had decided to go to El Rastro (Madrid's weekly outdoor street market) with two of the girls from her residencia. Again, for those of you who know Morning-Gigi, you can imagine I was regretting this decision. I rolled over and turned on my computer, dimming the screen to the lowest level, and signed into my skype account (after several attempts at just guessing where the keys where). I asked Lizzie if she was still going, and she (after rolling herself out of bed) said yes, seeing as she needed to replace the lost contents of her stolen bag.

So after I shook myself of sleep, Lizzie and I headed to El Rastro. The other girls were hung-over and ended up not coming, despite it being their plan originally. But Lizzie and I had a good time. There were a ton of vendors and the market was huge. Jewlery, shoes, cloths, art, electronics, bags, and most everything you could think of was out for sale, and we just wandered from stand to stand (with about a thousand other people) looking at everything. I bought Hayley some souvenirs, and myself some t-shirts for Morocco and a jacket.

I got back to Julia's in time for lunch, and then studied for my Spanish test, wrote those extensive blog entries, and started sorting through my pictures. My friend, Scott, called and told me about BC's win over Wake Forest, so that was good to hear, and also mentioned that he rented a 31-foot RV to go to the BC vs. Notre Dame game in October. I can only imagine the stories I'll hear about that trip. . .

Today was intense. It started off quite nicely when I checked my e-mails and found out that my Spanish class had been cancelled and that I didn't need to be to the campus until 6. So I hunkered down and studied for my Spanish test (a thrilling substitution, I know).

The new maid, Baquita, started today and I like her a lot. She's easier to talk to than Julia and seems much more contemporary. She has nearly the opposite political views of Julia, (I don't know how she got through the interview) and I'm excited to have a potential ally in the house. We were chatting while she made the bed today (I get in trouble when I do it myself) and she put the sheets in a different order than usual. I didn't think anything of it, but when Julia came in later, she did not approve at all of the situation, and was rather upset about the incorrectly made bed.

And it gets better. Julia had some errands to run and told me to eat lunch whenever I got hungry, (this was also because my class was cancelled this morning, and Baquita was only making lunch for one person. I was just going to have the leftovers I had packed to take with me to school). So I studied until about 2:30 and then headed to the kitchen to get lunch, but all the doors were closed, and I didn't know if I should just barge in. So I went back to my room, and waited until Baquita opened the doors at about 3. I went in and was warming up my lunch in the microwave when Julia walked in. As soon as she saw me, she demanded why I hadn't eaten already. I told her I had been studying and she seemed to be very upset, (I think because now we were going to have to eat at the same table when we weren't eating the same food). I told her I could just eat in my room, but that's also not allowed, so I went to sit don at the table and then she got upset because I was using the wrong sized dish and the wrong fork. She kept saying how important organization is and how I should have eaten earlier (so much for eating whenever I got hungry). Then she started speaking really fast, and I started catching less and less of what she was saying, so then she started to get upset about my Spanish. She told me I should stop talking to Lizzie and speak only to my Spanish friends (of which I have none). She said Superior-Gabrielle was practically fluent after a month in Spain and that I must not be trying hard enough.

This is when I started to cry. Yes, right there at the dining room table while clutching my incorrect fork. Then she asked me why I was crying, and I said it was because I was frustrated, and she asked me if I wanted chocolate. I said no and apologized, asking if I could go to my room for a second. She said no, we were eating lunch. Then Baquita came in and tried to comfort me and Julia looked very confused by the situation (I hope Baquita is still here tomorrow). I excused myself after lunch was finished and went to the bathroom to wipe my tears with what little toilet paper I had left.

Then Julia's niece, Alexandra, (who appeared out of nowhere) started knocking on the bathroom door, so I came out and she tried to comfort me, as well. I told her it wasn't a big problem and that I was just having a moment of weakness, and she was very nice about, while Julia was shouting from the kitchen,"What's the matter with her?" Then I asked Alexandra why she was here, and she started tearing up as well. She wouldn't tell Julia what the matter was, so Julia left to go to the pharmacy and told me to go talk to Alexandra. I did, and we chatted for a while (she has it pretty rough right now - her dad has cancer, she can't find work, and she's having boy troubles). The boy troubles were the primary problem at the moment, and after discussing the situation, I told her that I thought she should call him, so she did, and afterwards said everything was better. Then Julia came back and asked where Alexandra was. I said she was in my room, (another thing about which Julia disapproved) but that she was doing better. At this point I needed to leave for class, and both Alexandra and I had finally stopped crying. When I came back for dinner, Julia and I were both in better moods, and my plate and fork were already set out for me.

I bet Baquita's wondering what she got herself into.

Día Dos en Sevilla

(La Plaza de España from Los Jardines de Maria Luisa in Sevilla)

My alarm went off at 6 am, so not only were Lizzie and I the last girls in the hostel to go to bed, but we were also the first ones up. I slept in the top bunk, and for those of you that know Morning-Gigi, you know this was a bad situation. I couldn't really figure out how to get out of the bed, which was really squeaky, so I was making a lot of noise in my attempts. I ended up basically jumping off of the bed with my eyes closed and then remembering that my legs don't work so well in the morning. I chilled on the floor for a second before crawling to the bathroom.

While Lizzie was getting ready, I went upstairs to explore the hostel's lounge. It had a computer and a kitchen, but I greatly appreciated the couches, where I curled up for another 20 minutes of sleep. When Lizzie came up, I crawled out the window because I wanted to see the rooftop patio and couldn't figure out how to open the door. Overall, a really nice hostel for cheap.

It was still dark, but we decided to walk to La Plaza de España along El Paseo de Cristóbal Colon which follows El Río Guadalquivir. Lizzie's foot was still bothering her, but she was a trooper and insisted we keep going. There was a lot of construction along the way, but we passed some interesting buildings and El Torre de Oro (an old fortress tower). We also passed El Casino de la Exposición Teatro, where the streets were completely covered with garbage. You could still hear the music from inside and the street vendors were closing up the stands when we passed at about 8 in the morning. We stopped at a cafe near La Avenida de Isabel La Católica, where I ordered another chocolate croissant (I really like those) and Lizzie got another bocadillo con jamon y queso. Afterwards, we walked to La Plaza de España, which is this huge building that was built for the the Exposición Iberoamericana which Sevilla hosted in 1929. It was overcast and the lighting was good for pictures, so we took a lot. After our photo shoots we walked past the street vendors who were setting up in La Plaza. We both bought some pretty Spanish fans as souvenirs and then walked a little through El Parque de Maria Luisa.

I wanted to take a tour of El Palacio de la Condesa de Lebrija, which was back near El Barrio Centro, so headed back in that direction. We walked past La Universidad de Sevilla, which is in an old tobacco factory near La Plaza de España and then ended up taking the train back to La Plaza Nueva by way of La Avenida de la Constitución. We found the Condesa's palace, but it was closed (so family - that's what we're doing when we go to Sevilla). We stopped for lunch at Pan & Co., which is a chain fast-food Spanish restaurant we've been to before. They serve bocadillos and baguettes and we've been pleased both times we went there, (this time we both got kebab baguettes).

I've found that the food in Spain is different, for lack of a better word. They don't eat what we call meals - they eat appetizers (or tapas) pretty much exclusively. If you order fish, you will get a piece of fish with nothing else and if you order a tortilla, that's all you'll get. There are Spanish foods that I really like - paella and tortilla being two of them, but I've found that there isn't as much variety on a Spanish menu as there is that in the US. There's no pasta, few vegetables, and a lot of sandwiches. You don't get plates full of food and fruit is considered dessert. Lizzie also pointed out that Spanish food has less spiciness than American food. The Spaniards I know have long meal times, but eat the food very quickly and then just chat and drink for the rest of the time. Interesting differences, I think, but now, back to the story. . .

We then crossed the street to La Campana, a dessert shop. They had whole candied fruits, but I ordered a slice of postre de queso (a cheesecake with blueberries on top). The cheesecake was lighter than in the US and the dessert was very good. We then walked across the street to this cookie store. The tins were very pretty, but they were gouging people on cookie prices, so I bought an empty tin as a souvenir.

We then wandered in and out of clothing stores in the area and after sitting in a park for a while, we eventually headed back towards the bus station. We stopped to look in La Plaza de Armas, which is an old train station that was converted into a shopping mall, and then we walked next door to the bus station and got front row seats for the bus ride back to Madrid.

I tried to study for my Spanish test, but then fell asleep until my notes fell out of my hand and all over the aisle. After picking those up, I gave up on studying and slept for a while, fastening my seatbelt because the seats we were in were really high up and I was nervous about falling into the aisle myself. The bus stopped in Cordoba for a rest stop and a driver change, but the rest of the way home, I studied and chatted with Lizzie. The bus driver was very flirtatious and I would call him a creeper, although Lizzie says he was just friendly. But he did mention that my Spanish was very good, so brownie points for him.

We got back to Madrid at about 8:30, and decided to go to Fres Co. for dinner, (which is near the Alonso Martínez metro stop), which is one of the only buffet restaurants in Madrid. The food was pretty good - and they had pizza, so we were really happy (note to self - try onions, corn, zucchini, and cheese on pizza when you get home). But then when we went to leave, Lizzie's backpack was gone. Apparently, while we were eating, the guy at the next table over had stolen it. It had been by her chair, and she was upset because she sensed the guy was weird, but didn't think to move her bag. But luckily, most of her valuables were in her purse - all she had in her backpack was cloths, toiletries, our souvenir fans from Sevilla, and her glasses. It will be a pain to replace all of that and it's scary that he managed to grab that without either of us noticing.

So we headed back to the metro, guarding our purses with our lives. I unpacked once I got back to Julia's and started the process of uploading the 235 pictures I took in 2 days. It was a really good trip and Sevilla was really nice, and now I have three days to do all my homework before I leave for Morocco. Who does homework anyway?

Día Uno en Sevilla

(A statue in front of La Plaza de Toros in Sevilla, Spain)

I'm back from Sevilla and am about to fill you in on every minute detail of my trip! Just kidding - I'll try to keep it at least somewhat condensed, but we all know how I enjoy rambling. . .

Lizzie and I headed to the bus station and went to the Daibus counter to buy tickets for our trip to Morocco next week. After successfully carrying out that conversation in Spanish, we had some time to kill, so we explored the bus station a bit and then just sat and talked. Lizzie mentioned the fact that her mother is a distant descendent of Korean royalty, and is by lineage, a Princess. I thought this was pretty exciting, and if I meet no other royalty on this trip, Lizzie totally counts.

The bus ride was 6 hours long, and I slept for most of it. I was relieved I was able to sleep, because we got to Sevilla at about 6:30 am and started the day right away. While we were waiting for it to get light out, we grabbed food from the vending machine (I had mini chocolate croissants) which constitutes breakfast #1 (yes, more are coming). We then bought maps and walked towards our hostel to drop off our stuff. On the way, we saw a cafe that looked really good, and since we figured we were going to need more sustenance for the day, we stopped for breakfast #2. I ordered a sugar-coated croissant from the case, but Lizzie was more adventurous and ordered something (which neither of us understood) from the menu. It turned out to be little pieces of fried toast, which was delivered with a packet of sugar. Interesting concept, but rather greasy. After we paid, we found the hostel, but were told that we couldn't check in until 11:30 (it was now 8). This threw a wrench into our plans, as by 11:30, we were planning on being on the other side of Sevilla. So we needed a planning session - and we stopped at a cafe near the hostel to change out of our traveling cloths and eat breakfast #3 (by this point, we were eating just because of our lack of plans). Lizzie got a bocadillo con jamon y queso and I got toast with marmalade. We whipped out our maps and figured we could tour La Plaza de Toros before going back to the hostel, and after dropping off our stuff, head to the main square in Sevilla.

So we bought tickets for the tour of La Plaza de Toros, and after going through some gift shops, returned for our scheduled time. The tour was pretty interesting (especially because my Countess had been here) and we saw the bullring, chapel, stables, and attached museum. There was a section in the museum devoted to Juan Belmonte, the matador who was also mentioned by my Countess, so I took plenty of pictures there.

Afterwards, we headed back to Olé Backpacker (our 9-euro-a-night hostel), checked in, and dropped off our backpacks. We walked through La Plaza Nueva and by City Hall, and then along Avenida de Constitución. We checked out some info on a walking tour, but then figured we could do that ourselves for free, so we stopped for ice cream, (because three breakfasts just do not fill you up) and got in line for La Catedral de Sevilla (La Catedral de Santa María de la Sede). It is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world and the third-largest church in the world, and it was pretty amazing. The altar was gigantic and so was the organ, and every surface was carved or sculpted. We climbed up the tower of Giralda (the cathedral used to be a mosque, and this is one of the remaining elements) and after 34 floors, we reached the top and had some pretty fantastic views of the city. This is also where all the bells for the cathedral are kept and one rang while we were up there, so that was cool, too.

After La Catedral, we walked across the plaza to El Alcázar, an old palace in Sevilla. Many of the buildings in Sevilla were strongly influenced by Moorish culture, and the palace is one of the best remaining examples of mudéjar architecture. We wandered around the palace, but the really nifty part was the gardens, which went on forever and were gorgeous (complete with fountains, flowers, statues, and peacocks).

Then we walked to El Barrio de Santa Cruz for lunch and sat down at a restaurant. The place seemed really nice and both the rooms and food were presented really nicely. Too bad the chef didn't know how to cook, or doesn't believe in spices, or something. Lizzie got a traditional Spanish tortilla, which was really dry, and I got Huevos Flamenco, which was ham and vegetables covered in raw egg. I wouldn't recommend it. The food was pretty bad, and apparently in Sevilla, if you eat the bread they put on your table, they will charge you for it. Tricky.

After lunch, we walked to El Barrio Central, where there is a lot of shopping. The walk was really interesting, because of all the narrow, winding roads. But I have to give credit to Lizzie for the map-reading. Whenever I was in charge of the map, we had to stop at every curve in the road to see if we were going in the right direction. Usually we weren't. We also passed some roman columns on the way, which were just tucked into someone's backyard. In El Centro, Lizzie bought new shoes, seeing as she was practically limping with the ones she had on.

We then headed back towards El Barrio de Santa Cruz, where a guide book had said there were good flamenco shows for free. We ate dinner at a tapas bar (croquettes de queso, chicken curry, and chicken and couscous) and then went to investigate the flamenco bar. Although the doors opened at 8 pm, the first show wasn't until 11, so again we had time to kill. We tried to get back to the main street, but every time you turn a corner in Sevilla, the street you think will be there isn't, and by the time you turn round, that street is gone, too. It was very picturesque and deserted, and seemed almost like an empty movie set. We made it back to the main street, Santa Maria la Blanca, and went in and out of some gift shops. We then walked through the Jardines de Murillo and back to Santa Maria la Blanca, where we stopped for ice cream and chatted.

At about 10, we walked back to the flamenco bar to get good seats and talked until the show started. The place was pretty busy and there were three performers - a guitarist, a singer, and a dancer. They were very good and had attitude, too! The singer kept shush-ing all the rowdy audience members. The show was an hour long and very fun to watch. But distracting from the performance was this couple sitting right next to the stage. The man was much older than the girl and the PDA that was going on was way past acceptable. The first thing Lizzie and I said after the show was done was, "Did you see that couple?!" But the flamenco was very good, and I was glad we went.

I walked and Lizzie limped back to the hostel and found our room (an 8-person female dorm). The bathroom, although small, was very clean and we could rent towels from the front desk for a euro. I thought at one point I had locked myself into the hallway, because I locked the door behind me (as it had been locked before) but then my key wouldn't open it again. I took the elevator down to the front desk, and told the security guard about it, but he seemed unconcerned, so I just passed out in bed hoping that no one else was going to need to use that door.