Tag Archives: friends

Current mood: in love

 “Sono andata da Firenze a Ginevra e ritorno!”

Just got back from a calm and relaxing weekend in Geneva, Switzerland (“Ginevra, Svizzera” … Can you guess the title?!) where I visited my Aunt and Uncle for the weekend. (Or, I suppose, grand-aunt and grand-uncle would be more like it!) Screen Shot 2016-02-12 at 1.40.41 AMI thoroughly enjoyed seeing Geneva and their home, flying over the Swiss Alps on the plane ride there, and then again gaping at the view of the Alps through their kitchen window! Unbelievable.

We also saw some beautiful neo-impressionist art by a Swiss painter named Signac, enjoyed Swiss fondu and delicious chocolate (“il cioccolato”), took those naps, and indulged in life convos over coffee, croissants, and oj at the breakfast table! This was definitely my favorite weekend by far!!! I also heard tons of French (“Francese”) and learned a little bit as well, but just enough to get me through the airport and back to Florence!

“Oggi a Firenze”

“Today in Florence” for my Italian class, our teacher met us at the Piazza della Reppublica to practice our speaking and listening skills. We introduced ourselves to random Italian people, and we asked them if we could interview them for our class! All in Italian! It was so much fun! The people we spoke to were all very gracious in helping us do our assignment. Today was also an incredibly warm and sunny day (“oggi”), which has been quite a change from the past few. It was so warm, I was even able to hang out on the front steps of la Basilica di Santa Croce. Church (“chiesa”) steps seem to be a common place for Italians to hangout.

Current mood: in love

I feel like all the beauty in the whole world is just being revealed to me, and I’m just standing here speechless receiving it all in my heart, feeling tons of emotions, and loving everything. I’m so little (almost too little to handle it), but so in love, and I can’t imagine ever going home! (“Ti amo Firenze!”)

At this stage in my study abroad experience, I think the song “I See The Light” from Tangled sums it up perfectly…

Chorus
"All those days watching from the windows
 All those years outside looking in
 All that time never even knowing
 Just how blind I've been
 Now I'm here blinking in the starlight
 Now I'm here suddenly I see
 Standing here it's all so clear
 I'm where I'm meant to be..."

And, the people I’m meeting? Incredible. A good friend (“la mia amica”) of mine named Annie told me today, “It’s never too late to have a childhood. It’s never too late to be who you are, and it’s never too late to add to yourself.” She’s had some inspiring life experiences working with kids at her day camps. She’s like the kind of girl you’d read in a storybook! Like, Merida from “Brave” or Rapunzel from “Tangled.” She’s a brave, brave girl with a kind heart and a wicked sense of humor! She also has a horse named Annie too, but purely by coincidence!

I met a girl named Rena, who’s like a sister (“sorella”) to me! We are so similar! And, Cici, and Megan, and Brian, and Heather, and Nick! Such adventurous and endearingly optimistic people. And Sara, my beautiful friend from Florence, and David and Andrea, who work at the cafe next door to school (“scuola”) and put up with me trying to learn Italian!! What a dream this is! It must be!

 

 

Finding my bearings!

So far, I’ve been here for 23 days, and I’ve experienced quite a whirlwind of events.

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Italian Notes | Photo credit: Rena Kassak

Since I’ve last written, I’ve gotten into the thick of my classes and have fallen in love with the staff of ISI Florence. Professors here are a bit more laid-back than in the States. Our Italian Language teacher ensured us that we’re on the same level, and he made sure that we know we can go to him for help with anything at all during the semester! From my past experiences with college, which I carry solely from the U.S., this hasn’t always been the case. His heart is focused on helping us learn, and the same goes for my photography professor. Put simply, ISI Florence is taking absolute wonderful care of us!

Learning the language

I’m in love with the language here. It’s so beautiful. Today we engaged in conversations with four Italian speaking 20-somethings who visited our class; it was kind of like speed-dating! I speak “un po” (only a little!) Italiano, and they could speak a little bit of English. It was neat to see how well we could communicate.

View of Florence from the top of the Duomo!

View of Florence from the top of the Duomo!

Also, last week, I met up with a Florentine girl named Sara. We met through a language exchange website. She loves traveling and learning languages, and she studies English, French, Spanish, and Chinese. It was so lovely to meet her and to learn about Italy from her perspective! I very much enjoyed our conversation, which was mostly in English seeing as she speaks English better than I can speak Italian. And, not to mention, I am still a bit shy! (“Sono un po timida”)

Il Duomo di Santa Maria del Fiore - View from Piazzale Michelangelo

A view of the Duomo from Piazzale Michelangelo – In the last photo, I was looking out from the tippy top of this one.

We talked about the differences between Italian boys and American boys, indulged each other with stories of our past relationships, and bonded over a love of purity. She also taught me some slang words in Italian, like “figo,” which means beautiful but is used how we would use the word cool, and also its synonym: “ganzo,” which is only characteristic of Florence.

Wine tasting in Chianti

On a school trip to Chianti, we met Gino, a family-oriented man, who showed us the “sweetness” of life. The Italians’ mentality is much different than what’s common back home.

A view of Chianti from Gino's vineyard

A view of Chianti from Gino’s vineyard

“There’s no food without wine and no wine without food,” he said. Gino also emphasized the joys of taking things slow and really enjoying everything with all of our senses as not to get drunk but to enjoy the wine. “Wine is everything,” he said, it’s even where you are and the people you are with; “wine is life.” He advised us to drink good wine with good friends, and warned us to never drink alone. He also taught us that just because a wine is expensive, that doesn’t mean it’s a good wine! It could just mean that it comes from a very small vineyard. The only way you can tell if a wine is good is “with your eyes, your nose, and your mouth.”

Adventures in Siena

Last Saturday, I visited Siena! Signing up for the trip by myself, I wasn’t sure I’d know anyone there, however, a stellar group of kids, Heather, Brian, and Nick (Nick, who is actually in my buon fresco class) were there!

Screen Shot 2016-01-29 at 1.53.22 AMI had an amazing time spending the day with them enjoying the city view from atop the Cattedrale di Siena, stopping for gnocchi and “picci,” a thick pasta prized by Siena, and visiting the Church of Saint Dominic where we found the relic of Saint Catherine of Siena. It was so awesome to learn about her life right in her home city! Apparently people were drawn to her, and it’s no wonder since she was so drawn to Christ! Later that day, we ventured over to San Gimignano, a small medieval town with an incredible view that I could have easily mistaken as a painting had we been inside!

V for Venezia!

Then, of course, there’s the gorgeous city of Venice! With its waterways instead of streets and boats instead of cars, Venice is one of the most quirky places I’ve visited. We were able to catch the parade where the floats were literally floating (boats, of course!) And, we enjoyed what the Venetians call the Carnevale.

People wear all kinds of fun masks during the carnival!

People wear all kinds of fun masks during the carnival!

Venice is quite touristy, and I’d suggest going later on in the week to witness the carnival in full effect. We were unaware of this, and we actually made plans with a tour group in advance. The skies turned out to be overcast, and it was only the first day of the carnival–much too soon for the fun to pick up!

Although I met some great people on the bus, I ended up spending most of the day by myself. But, on the bright side, I got to check out the Chiesa di Santa Lucia, a church by the grand canal, where I saw the relic of Saint Lucy’s incorruptible head and visited the Blessed Sacrament of our Lord in a side chapel.

I actually didn’t get to go to mass on this day (Sunday), which was pretty upsetting to me. It was mainly poor planning. I’m still figuring out how to adapt to this life on the road because, at least at this point in my life, it’s so easy for me to get distracted. But, truly God is the most beautiful!

The not-so-wonderful truth

Although the travel life can seem romantic and glamorous from stories and photographs, I’ve been here for less than a month and as you can tell, I’ve already experienced a few bumps along the road.

  1. Crepes and waffle at La Milker

    Crepe and waffle alla nutella date in between classes! I don’t know how we made it through Italian class after this! Photo credit: Rena Kassak

    Pro tip: If you ever go to Italy please, please drink tons of water, and be weary of your dairy intake! I absolutely love picking up new foods from the market, especially cheese because it’s fresh, inexpensive, and we’re in Italy! So, why not try them all? (“perchè no?”) Well, just recently, I learned the hard way… that too much cheese and other dairy foods, like gelato, can actually cause constipation. (“Come sei dice embarrassing?”) Fortunately, a call home to mom, some prune juice, and laxatives really did the trick! Thank God!! I had no idea how painful that could be!

  2. Next? Well, I lost my cell phone one evening when taking out the trash. I would have gone diving in after it!!! But, the trash disappeared into the ground. They have some clever dumpsters here, and I didn’t even feel my phone slip out the moment it happened…
    Is this not the most beautiful motor vehicle you've ever seen?!

    Is this not the most beautiful motor vehicle you’ve ever seen?! Spotted near Firenze S.M.N. train station.

    Since the garbage company was already closed for the night, we had to wait to call in the morning. At this point, it was already compacted into a teeny tiny cube. I was able to communicate with my family and friends online, and my parents had mercy on me. Fortunately, I was able to replace the phone, and everything is semi-back-to-normal, if you can even call it that.

Despite the appealing aspects of travel, it definitely has its fair share of adjustments, ups, and downs (and there are even more if you’re clumsy!), but every single one of these has come and gone, and it continues to amaze me that I am actually here… Praise you, Jesus! And, thank you, Mom and Dad!

Next stop… Roma!

Singing for Strangers

On Tuesday, February 23rd, I attended a Hudson Taylor concert at the Black Box Theatre, which is just a short walk from my apartment.  For any of you who don’t know, Hudson Taylor is an Irish band, formed by two brothers from Dublin, Alfie and Harry Hudson-Taylor.  I’ve been a fan of their music for years, but they aren’t very popular in the United States.  When I found out that they were playing a gig in Galway back in the fall of 2014, I bought tickets as soon as I could (which meant waking up early on a school day and ordering them on my phone… at the time, I wasn’t in the right time zone for getting them at a decent hour!).  Whenever I had anxieties about leaving home before coming to Ireland, I would remind myself that I had tickets to Hudson Taylor because I knew there was no way in the world I would ever miss that!

Three of my friends joined me: Amara, Kaity, and Kelly.  We got ready at my apartment before heading over to the venue early, but on the walk over, we got caught in a torrential downpour that made straightening my hair completely useless!  But we laughed it off and took a photo of ourselves to remember how we had been soaked by the Irish rain… and definitely not for the first time!

Two friends and I soaked by the Irish rain

Rain soaked, but still glad to be seeing Hudson Taylor!

Arriving early was definitely a good thing, as the concert was general admission, or standing room only.  The four of us were delighted when we entered the theatre and walked straight up to the front to claim our space.  We couldn’t have been any closer – front row was better than any of us had expected.  Needless to say, I was over the moon.

There were two opening acts, one of which was a band called Southern composed of a brother and sister from Belfast as well as a drummer and bassist from England.  They were really great and I definitely hope they gain popularity.  Below is a video of a song they performed at the concert:

After Southern finished, there was a period of excruciating anticipation while the stage was set up for Hudson Taylor.  In the interim, I tried to guess which of the brothers would be directly in front of us on stage, and I decided it was going to be Alfie because the microphone was shorter and Alfie’s instruments were eventually brought out and placed on our side.  And soon enough, my prediction came true.

Alfie singing right in front of me

Alfie Hudson-Taylor

Alfie took his place just in front of us as he, Harry, and their band started the concert with a high energy performance of “Just A Thought” – a song I’ve been singing so much that by now all my housemates should know the lyrics from memory.

Alfie and Harry Hudson Taylor performing right in front of us

Could we get any closer?

Fortunately for me, they played a bunch of my favorite songs, so I got to sing along very loudly.  Because of that, I’ll include a Hudson Taylor music video for you to watch instead of the ones I took from the concert… I didn’t realize how loud I was singing until I could hear myself on the video when I got home.  It’s equal parts embarrassing and funny, but it’s more pertinent for you to watch a video of Hudson Taylor, not Hudson Taylor featuring special guest Maddison.

The video I’ve included below will always hold a special place in my heart because it was filmed in Galway, not too far from where I’m living now.  As of late, I’ve adopted it as my Galway theme song, so it’s frequently listened to on my iPod on walks to and from class.  In fact, I had a conversation with a kid I met one night in a pub and we got talking about Hudson Taylor, and surprisingly enough he told me that he was there the day Hudson Taylor filmed this video.  Apparently, he was asked to spot Harry and Alfie when they jump in the water at the end of the video.  He could have been making it all up, of course, but part of me wants to believe it.  Even if it isn’t true, it makes a good story, so I’m sticking to it.

I didn’t want the concert to end, but the guys did mention that they would be going to the Roisin Dubh pub afterwards if any of us wanted to meet them there.  After singing, dancing, and cheering for hours, my voice was all but gone by the time the concert ended.  I booked it out of the theatre with my friends in tow so that we could stop by the merchandise stand and then get to the Roisin.  Luckily, I was already familiar with the Roisin and how to get there quickly, so Kaity, Kelly, and I made it there in record time.

The pub was packed when we arrived, as expected.  It took us 35 minutes just to weave through the crowds to get up to the bar.  After we all ordered drinks, we found a seat with a good view of the entrance so we could see if Alfie and Harry showed up.  After the better part of an hour, a lot of people started leaving, probably because they were impatient and didn’t think the guys were coming after all.  However, I was determined, so we enjoyed our drinks and our conversation, gleefully aware that the thinning crowd worked to our advantage.

Soon enough, I saw the band walk in the front door, so I assumed Alfie and Harry weren’t too far behind.  But then, I thought it would make sense for Alfie and Harry to come through a back door if their band came in the front, so I told Kaity to hold our seats at the bar while I checked the upstairs area for Alfie and Harry.  As soon as I reached the top of the stairs I ran into Harry, who was surrounded by girls… which made me cringe at the thought of being associated with fan girls, so I turned the corner instead and saw Alfie talking to a group of guys.  But I ended up catching Harry and having a conversation with him before a group of guys came over and asked me to take their photo with Harry.  I did and since I had asked Harry previously if I could get a photo with him, I thought one of the guys would take my photo for me.  Unfortunately, though, one of them dropped their glass and it shattered on the floor, so Harry was ushered to another location before I could catch him for a photo.

Though I was disappointed about that, later in the night I ended up standing next to Harry and talking to the drummer from Southern, Eoghan.  He was really nice and was also glad that I was having a Guinness, so we drank to that and to Southern’s successful performance that evening.  I still didn’t manage to get a picture with Harry – soon after, he left the Roisin, but I was glad I got to talk to him.

Meeting Alfie was my favorite part, though.  I just went up to him and said “Hi Alfie!” and we started talking.  He was really friendly; he gave me a hug when he found out I was from America and had been wanting to see them for such a long time.  He asked me my name and when I told him, he said that Maddison was a “lovely, beautiful name,” which, of course, made me melt! Alfie seemed really genuine – he even introduced himself to me and shook my hand (as if I didn’t already know who he was) and he kept using my name in conversation, which made me feel like I was having a chat with a friend.  He also got a little bit emotional when I told him I wished that their show would never end.  Similarly, he was humbled by the fact that I was American; it must have been amazing to realize that his music has a wider reach than expected.  After a quick photo and one more hug, we said goodbye, though I didn’t want to!

Alfie and me at the Roisin Dubh

Alfie and me hanging out at the Roisin Dubh

All in all, it was a great night that I will never forget.  My friends and I might be going to see Hudson Taylor again in early May, but this time we’ll take more friends along with us.  I’m sad that the concert is over, but I’m thankful I had the opportunity to see Hudson Taylor from the front row and meet them at a pub afterwards.  Only in Ireland!

Until next time,

Maddison


Location: Galway, Ireland

Loquacious, Literary, and Loving Every Second

Now that I’m back in Galway, I have been drinking up the abundance of literary culture faster than the pints I’ve been partaking in.  I really lucked out in choosing to study in a place where music, art, history, and literature dominate the city; around every turn, there is something new and wonderful to stumble upon.

But to get to those places, sometimes it helps to ask questions along the way.  Before I arrived in Galway I was determined to find the residence of Nora Barnacle, who was James Joyce’s wife.  She was born and raised in Galway before she met Joyce, and now her old home has been turned into a museum (even though the house is tiny!).  When my friend Mary and I ventured into town, we stopped by the Galway tours office and I asked the man working how to get to Nora Barnacle’s house.  Jokingly, he said “She’s dead, she doesn’t live there anymore.”  After a bit of laughter, he did give us directions, and after two failed attempts, Mary and I finally made it to the small house nestled inside a side alleyway.  We happened to arrive at it at the same time as an Australian couple, so we all helped each other out by taking one another’s photos.

Mary and I standing in front of Nora Barnacle's House.

Mary and I outside Nora Barnacle’s house

It’s still difficult for me to fathom that I’m so close to the history of my favorite authors.  Every time I go into the center of town, I pass a statue of Oscar Wilde, who is one of my all-time favorites.  I’m loving being surrounded by a prominent literary culture here – it’s such a change from what life is like back in State College.

Oscar Wilde statue in Galway City

Oscar Wilde statue in Galway City

A few days after our Nora Barnacle adventure, my friends and I chatted with a local shop owner and got directions to Charlie Byrne’s Book Shop, which stole my heart as soon as I entered.  I could have spent hours looking around, but we had to get to class so we only had about an hour to browse.  It was time well spent, though!

Me reading a book in Charlie Byrne's book shop

Me enjoying a book in Charlie Byrne’s

There are so many book shops in Galway – I seem to notice a new one each time I walk down Shop Street.  It’s definitely a dream come true for me… all of it is.  There is something inherently magical about Galway, as cheesy as that sounds.  The constant music that’s played in the streets, in the pubs… everywhere, really… seems like a soundtrack to life.  I don’t think I’ve gone a day without singing here – it’s impossible not to.  And yes, my friends and housemates do call me out on how I’m always singing.  Galway makes it so easy to live my passions, though.

And Galway always seems to point me in the right direction, too!

Me pointing at a sign for Diagon Alley in the book shop

Diagon Alley and Galway feel like the same place to me!

Looking forward to sharing more of my adventures with you!

-Maddison


Location: Galway City, Galway, Ireland

Greetings From Down Unda!

I’ll be starting this long overdue blogpost with two memes that capture what my 7 weeks in Melbourne, Australia have been like: soamazing.jpg amazingmeme.jpg Melbourne is Amazing! I’ve been struggling to find a word to describe what this city feels like, and the one word that constantly comes to mind is “home”. There’s an aura about Melbourne that just grabs you, and makes everything feel…easy. It’s unexplainable to be honest, but if you can think of that one happy place in your mind, Melbourne is the one…to me at least. You could blame it on bias, but all of the wonderful friends I have made here share the same sentiments. In Aussie time, it’s been exactly 7 weeks since I arrived here, and it’s terrifying to think how quickly time flies. I’m trying to grab as many memories as I can, and writing this blog helps keep them all in perspective. I don’t want to forget anything; this feeling of home, it’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. But before I get into that, I want to properly introduce myself. About Me: My name is Lynn Onyambu, I am 19 years old (20 next month!), and a senior in Penn State/University of Melbourne. I was born in Nairobi, Kenya, but i’ve lived in the US for 12 years of my life. My father is Kenyan, and my mother is Zambian. So even though i’m half blood (Harry Potter PUN-DEFINITELY-INTENDED), i’m still 100%, all around African. I speak Swahili fluently, and a bit of Spanish (barely, but definitely more than the casual “Hola, Yo Quiero -insert name of restaurant chain- “). I am majoring in Media Studies, International Communications, and minoring in International Studies. I’m not a Pennsylvanian native, but I’ve lived there longer than I have lived anywhere else, so I guess you could call me an adopted native. I bleed blue and white, but that’s a given cause PENN STATE, DUH! Why I Chose Melbourne: I honestly ask myself the same question. I always had dreams of doing an exchange program in London, but one day Australia just popped into my mind, and I ran with it (Chris Hemsworth may have been a slight motivation). I researched the best communication schools in the world, and the University of Melbourne was one of them (and also the top university in Australia!). I was hooked before I even clicked on the website, and my Google search became even better once I noticed their school colors were similar to Penn State’s. I found out that Penn State did in fact have an exchange program with Unimelb (gotta use the nickname to up my street cred), and it was all set from there. Months later, here I am, in the greatest city in Australia (sorry Sydney!), possibly even the world. I am studying in a university where I don’t feel overwhelmed, doubtful, or even scared. I’m in an environment where everything reminds me of home, and Penn State, and that’s more than I could have ever asked for. Goals: I only have two goals that I want to accomplish while I’m here.

  • To be the very best version of myself, morally and academically.
  • To live. I sometimes get stuck in keeping myself in a comfortable routine of complacency where I don’t challenge myself to see more than what’s beyond the surface. But i’ve got my night goggles, telescope, and binoculars this time around, so let’s do this!

Pic of Advice: cover1.jpg I have found my happiness here in Melbourne, and for those of you who will read this, I challenge you to do the same. It’s certainly not that easy, different trials and tribulations will factor in, but it’s also not impossible. Every journey begins with the first step. Ps. Here’s a picture of some of the friends i’ve made in Melbourne. No worries though, more pictures are coming soon. I have so much to share with you all! Thumbnail image for Thumbnail image for blogpic1.jpg Stay lovely, Lynn


Location: Melbourne, Australia

1 week down

I’ve been here a few days and it has definitely been a really interesting transition. Not too many massive differences but enough to make it so weird so I’m going to share some of them and the flow of the last couple days.

I live in Stevens hall and my flat (like an apartment/ floor) consist of only 5 people including myself. 4 girls and 1 boy. There was supposed to be another boy moving in but he never showed up. Oddly enough everyone in this flat ended up being Americans even though the rest of the whole building is either kiwi’s (natives) or Europeans. This school does not do roommates which is a little different from Penn State where you have to request a single. So there are a little over 2,000 students here about 50% being international and everyone has a single room. Each room has one power outlet which I thought was rather interesting, I ended up needing to buy a power strip, and it has its own switch that is supposed to be turned over when not being so used so power stops flowing to it entirely.

Lincoln is also really big on recycling and composting used materials and food. There are recycling bins everywhere you look and at meals all food and drinks go into a bucket and is then carted off to be composted.

Public transit is really big around here so as soon as we got here the RA (Claire) suggested we get a pass to get into town. There aren’t even school buses around here, either kids ride bikes or they get onto the public bus in large groups. It’s well-known that the school kids all sit in the back all together and adults sit in the front when school is let out. It’s also not uncommon for the driver to let kids off right at their driveway.

I have always considered myself a big environmentalist and want to improve the way people treat the world around them so to see that in New Zealand that so many environmentally positive things are a norm is really refreshing.

I’ve spent the past couple of days attending events on campus that the school organizes so people can get to know each other (one of the benefits to a small school.) The one I enjoyed the most had to be the “Silly Sports Day” yesterday where all the halls made up teams and played football (soccer), ultimate frisbee and volleyball. My hall did really well and we managed to take 3rd in ultimate frisbee, 2nd in volleyball and 1st in football.

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I also managed to find myself in a rugby tournament this week with another girl from my hall. We ended up being the only girls there and because of us they had to change it to be a touch rugby game. It turned out not to be that hard to figure out how to play but hard to be good. Thus, the boys ended up playing around us more than with us and I still ended up getting hit pretty hard a few times by boys twice my size and will be feeling it for days.

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(Don’t worry I did catch the ball)

It’s also rather common for people to walk around barefoot. Kids get on the bus barefoot, go to meals, stores, class and play sports all without shoes or socks. I’ve tried it a few times but without built up callouses it can get a little painful walking along the sidewalks or gravel.

The school also organized a little bus tour around Christchurch and some of the neighboring towns to help us understand more of the layout of the area. We got a chance to see one of the beaches where they give surfing lessons, which I plan on doing very soon, downtown Christchurch and some of the damage that took place last year.

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IMG_4580.JPGFlowers in the cones in honor of those lost in the earthquake a year ago.

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This area sustained the most damage from the quake last year. It caused the cliffs to fall apart along the edges and thus brought the backs of houses down with it.

Classes start tomorrow so the hope is that it will be a great chance to meet some more people and make some good friends. Oddly enough I’m considered a sociology and tourism major here since they don’t have Community, Environment and Development. I must say I do enjoy the way their schedule is set up because Monday, Tuesday and Thursday are the only days I have all my classes, Wednesday I only have one and Friday I’m free which I have learned is not abnormal.

So I will be sure to post soon and talk about classes and meeting more people here.

Till then stay beautiful everyone. 


Location: Christchurch, New Zealand

Greetings from Te Whare Wanaka o Aoraki

Ladies and Gents I have survived the 25 hour flight. A little worse for wear but I’m pretty sure I’ll be alright. Nevertheless, let it be known that I’m not at all looking forward to heading back to the U.S and having to do that all over again.

Starting at Dullas International airport I was set up with problems right away when one of my bags was grossly over the weight limit of 50lbs (which by the way is way too low an allowed weight considering how far I had to go in the end.) So some shuffling around of clothes had to take place while my brother and I had to intermittedly run back to the parked car that was not allowed to be parked where it was to avoid getting a ticket. After that was solved and I was all checked in he was not allowed to go past a designation point and I was forced to say my goodbyes and begin my journey on my own.

The 5 hours to San Francisco was relatively uneventful and I was treated to an awful Justin Timberlake movie to which I can’t recall the name and read a bit. The immediate problem in this leg of the journey being that my carry on was too large to fit in the overhead compartment, most likely because more things had to be put into it so I wouldn’t be charged $200 for an overweight bag.

Once in San Francisco I had about 4 hours to kill until my next flight and had planned on storing my bags and walking around in the fresh air until I was told that it would cost me $60 for both bags to be stored so I decided to enjoy the free wifi instead and sat around for a while surfing the net before it was announced that any ticket given not my Air New Zealand was no longer valid and it was required that I got another. This ended up being a good thing though because I ran into another girl who had been on my last flight from Washington D.C and we started to talk only to find out that we as well as about 5 others in line were all studying in New Zealand though in different places. A majority were doing a program called Australearn and were going to be in the Hamilton area. But I did chance upon a boy by the name of Brandon that was coming here so we spent a good amount of time talking and walking around the Auckland airport trying to find our gate. I really didn’t expect to meet so many people who were coming to study here.

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The 13hour flight was not as painful as I thought it would be but it also wasn’t great either. It was nearly impossible to sleep comfortably and I often felt the need to walk around to stretch out my legs. But each seat did have its own television stocked with recent movies, games and music.  I ended up watching “Warrior,” “Drive,” and “(500) Days of Summer. But most of the flight was dedicated to trying to sleep. I must also mention that the flight attendants were really nice.

In country, after the short flight from Auckland to Christchurch (I did take some shots of the beautiful landscape while in the air but they are on my itouch and can’t be sent without wifi so that will come later) , I was picked up with some others by a shuttle and brought to campus  (ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD) and have spent the last several hours sleeping, getting unpacked, meeting my mates in my pod (there is only one guy on the floor so far but there should be another soon along with 3 girls not including me) and walking around campus.

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(Recreation center/ dining hall, Library and Rugby Pitch)

Only complaints so far are that the internet in the dorms is VERY limited. We only get 5 gigs for every 2 months! The RA warned against Skyping in the dorms because it drains the gigs really fast so I will end up doing that on “hot sports” near the Library and Dining area.

(Small side note: since the last earthquake the dining area had to be moved into a gym off the recreation center. Besides that there isn’t too much damage to campus.)

Hope you enjoyed the long update. Much love to my friends and family back home <3

Until we meet again stay beautiful.


Location: Christchurch, New Zealand

Quiero conocerte, Sevilla

The title of this entry, “quiero conocerte,” means, “I want to get to know you.” A nice way of  saying I like you, I think I’ll hang around! It’s nice when new friends say this, and I love that this is exactly how I feel about Spain 🙂


Walking home, along the river:

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My huge apartment building:


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Starting Intensive Grammar

Every day from 3-6pm, I have class at the CIEE study center. That means leaving from the square near where we live at least a half hour before class to get there on time. It sort of eats our day, having a 3 hour class in the middle of it, but we’ve still been having some interesting experiences nonetheless. Randa was a little sick for a few days, but I have class with Hannah, so we’ve been sticking together most days. Taking another Spanish grammar class is especially boring for me, and grading is pretty tough! There’s no leeway for forgetting to add a certain part of an assignment, or special treatment, even if your Spanish is great. From what I’ve heard though, this is what to expect of any academic setting in Spain. There’s no eating, challenging the professor, or second chances in class here. I’m getting a good bit out of it though, looking up a lot of words in the pocket diccionario that I brought, and enjoying the moments between activities and lessons that we spend listening to rockola.com, which is like a Spanish Pandora.com. Hopefully having that at my disposal will help my comprehension.

Adjusting to My New Linguistic Identity

I mentioned this briefly in a former post, and am finding it more and more prevalent, the more I interact with native Spanish speakers. Wanting to express a certain part of my personality, but not being able to, is one of the most intimidating, and difficult things about making new such friends. I’ve been going out and spending time with a couple of people who only speak Spanish, and though it’s cool that they consider me bilingual for being able to communicate with them, and speak English, it’s beyond frustrating at some times. When I can’t made a funny remark, explain something in detail, or understand a story being told, I feel like I need to just start over learning Spanish all over again, and that’s discouraging. Luckily, people are patient for the most part. Willing to rephrase, or say things again slower, or emphasized differently. The accent, much as I can mimmic pretty well, still throws me off some times. Today, I made my friend Carlos repeat himself more than 3 times, when what I heard coming out of his mouth was “pixa,” and didn’t seem to make any sense, before I realized he was talking “pizza.” When I finally got it, I just rolled my eyes and made fun of his accent. I felt a little stupid for having needed to ask for so many repetitions, but sometimes there’s nothing more to do, and I’d rather understand than not know!

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Spain in Action

On Tuesday we were leaving the study center to head for a caf� in town that we like, walking on the main road, when we ran into an enormous crowd of people. As we got closer, we could hear shouts and then chanting, and noticed that a bunch of people had signs and matching t-shirts on. Both bore the photo of a girl who didn’t look older than 14, and had her name – Marta del Castillo. According to an article that Hannah found and read to me, it was an anniversary of her disappearance. The true controversy of the matter is that though her boyfriend came forward saying that he murdered and threw her in the river (the one I cross over every day to walk into town :/ kinda scary when Hannah and I realized that), there has not been justice. Because they could not confirm that the boyfriend was culpable, or find a body, it seems the police and justice system at large left the mystery unsolved. Tens of thousands of people across the country have joined the city of Sevilla, and Marta’s parents in a desperate cry for justice. Apart from the unbelievable story that is headliner, I found it amazing that the people of Spain united in this way to speak out against silence. Hannah did too, and said she didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, “This happens all the time in America, but people in the States don’t do that,” she remarked. I agreed that it was really incredible to see people making such a big to-do, because they really believe that together they can change things. I hope they do.

IMG_0779.JPGThe Way People Are

Spending time in caf�s after class is a good way not only to get homework done, but also an opportunity to see how else Spanish natives function when they are together. Hannah and I sat at a table across from each other, while other students did the same throughout the tiny establishment. At one point, 5 middle-aged Spanish friends walked in together, and upon failing to drag to tables together because of the huge weight on the bottom of them, and the lack of space, they simply resigned to all sitting around one tiny table. In Europe, it seems, it’s not unusual for people who know each other well to be in close quarters if need be. The group was sitting almost shoulder to shoulder and they didn’t seem to be complaining about it!

In our apartment, we watch a lot of TV. Everything from “telenovelas” (soaps), game-shows (which are the hardest for me to follow, because of all of the cultural references and often, quick paced interaction), “noticias” (news), and movies are concerned with the state of “El Pa�s” (“The Country,” a common reference to Spain, and also the name of a main news source here). Most everything we watch, even the likes of the Spanish version of “How It’s Made,” talks about the bad economy. Tonight however, the message really started to hit home. Apparently SpanAir just went bankrupt, so newscasters were talking to people waiting in the airport to get different flights or go home. There was also a segment about the people who worked for them, who were all saying they didn’t know what they were going to do next, or how they would find work again. One woman said she’d  been a flight assistant since she left high school. These kinds of stories really bring to light the meaning of common terms used here, such as “crisis,” which is on the lips of Spaniards everywhere, and plastered on walls in the form of posters and graffiti (I know it’s looks like English, but the Spanish word, [KREE-SEES] carries a lot more meaning lately).

On top of the economic hardship, and the lack of jobs, it’s clear there are other problems in Europe that might slip under the international radar, but do not go unnoticed by natives, or the news. The other day when we were watching the news, there was a(nother) story about a woman who was murdered by her husband, due to extreme domestic violence. The people here seem so calm and with it, I wouldn’t have thought of Spain as a place where that’s something to worry about, and Loli seemed to think it was out of the ordinary how many tragic occurances there have been like this in the past few years.

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Art in Town 🙂

There’s a lot of random graffiti, street art, and other forms of expression going on in Seville. Everywhere you walk, there are either big murals on walls, pictures of saints on tile, or flamenco dresses in windows. The buildings themselves are mostly old, stone or brick structures that have maintained their form, and either wear an antiquated layer of dark dust and grime, or have been cleaned to show the bright grey color of their walls. There are also memorials, statues, and free-standing structures in plazas and parks all over the place. When I went for a run with Hannah and Randa yesterday morning, there were murals and graffiti the whooole way down the place where we ran, which was a good 3 kilometer stretch along the river (and absolutely awesome, not to mention). We even saw some kids with sketch pads and brushes, painting away over some older work.

Some of my own art, this is the main bridge that goes across the river to the “Mainland” of Sevilla:

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and a view of some palm trees in Triana, from the other side of the rio:

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Mmmh I love the Food!

I’ve pretty quickly come to learn why they say that the mediterranean diet is among the healthiest. Some days, Loli serves me whole plates of steamed greens, like spinach – which is usually mixed with chick peas – or cooked beans; sometimes potatoes and cauliflower with a fried egg; and almost always bread with the meal to sop up oils and juices, and oranges or yogurt at the end of the meal. I love it! The food is always fresh, and lately it’s been really interesting too. We had seafood for a few days, which included whitefish and shrimp with melt-in-your-mouth soft, chopped potatoes in a light broth for dinner one night, and a seafood macaroni and cheese the next day for lunch when Loli’s daughter, her husband, and their baby came to town. Today we had fried potatoes with egg, it was good but I feel like I need to go for another run after all the carbs!! Dinner though, was all protein – garlic-lemon chicken from last night, and mushrooms in olive oil – yum!

Stay tuned! I’ve got a trop to C�rdoba with my program in two weekends, and the week after that, Carnaval in C�diz, with We Love Spain.


Location: Triana. Sevilla, Spain.

Adjusting Nicely

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And now comes the fun stuff..or at least the start of it 😉

Now that we’ve started to get used to the city, walking around and navigating everywhere, we know how to be safe, have fun, and (sometimes) be well enough rested to make it through the next day doing the same. For the first couple of days, we could walk in circles around the same streets and have no idea that we were around the corner from the same place we’d visited just a day, or half hour prior.  Now however, that we’ve gotten a feel for the areas we visit most, we can leave our part of town less than an hour before we have to be at a place that’s just a 20 minute walk away! When we make it to certain landmarks, and realize that we’re right next to a certain street, or other landmark, and without being totally turned around, it’s one of the most triumphant and reassuring feelings in the world!

Shopping – Rebajas!!

Knowing our way around doesn’t only help us to navigate to the places we have to be to meet up with our program group, but also makes taking advantage of the Spanish culture and conditions much more doable. During the first months of the year in Spain (and apparently some other places in Europe), there’s a huge, nationwide sale. Here, the word for sales is “rebajas.” And boy have we gotten used to seeing, hearing and saying it! Each day walking into the same and new stores to look at shoes, purses, pants, and all the other classy and chic European clothes you could imagine – it’s so much fun. I haven’t bought anything yet, but certainly plan to make a couple of additions to my wardrobe before this opportunity ends.

There’s a Crosswalk in the Kitchen!? But only a yellow light.

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Right on the corner outside our apartment building, there are a number of crosswalks, which all chirp like finches when it’s ok to cross. For some reason, I was hearing this chirping randomly in the middle of the day, and figured it was just a crosswalk that I could hear through the window, which faces a pretty busy road. On Thursday morning, as I bent over to throw a napkin in the kitchen trash, I discovered that it wasn’t just coming from the nearby window, it was IN the room! ‘My host has a “p�jarro”??!’ I thought. She came in and removed the quilt cover on top of his cage she puts it there to keep him warm in the winter, and introduced me. I can’t remember his name now (faces and names aren’t a specialty of mine, even if the face is unique as that of a bird :^p haha), but he’s awfully cute! He’s a little yellow guy with white and black accents and flecks. He sings a LOT, which occasionally warrants a “�callate!” (shut up!) from Loli, especially while watching the tele, or when she’s on the phone. She told me that last year when the “tio” in the family died (I’m not sure if this was reference to her son, who she told me passed away, or someone else in the family), that he stopped singing altogether and hardly let out but a chirp for months. I found that pretty incredible, animals are so sensitive to their surroundings. I love the singing, it’s really beautiful, and just makes the musty little apartment feel a bit lighter and more lively 🙂

High School Spanish…

…has been a lot more useful than I first expected it to be! There are so many things here that I learned or heard about, particularly when I was in AP Spanish with Mrs. Levenson, at Allderdice. One of the first was the fact that most people have a heater under the table, and a large table cover that functions as a blanket to keep all the heat on your legs and feet. This used to be (and maybe in some cases, still is) a bucket of hot coals that kept the feet and legs of the people sitting there nice and toasty in the winter months when the tile floors are like having your feet and legs on ice, even if you wear your “zapatillas” (slippers). I also noticed that it’s a common practice for people to put their pointer finger to their face, as we do in America to signal crying, when they talk about looking at something, or paying attention. I thought of the old Spanish flamenco film, “Bodas de Sangre,” (Wedding of Blood) that we watched so many times, when we saw flamenco with our group on the second night of orientation. I knew from that movie how melodramatic and expressive the dance numbers were meant to be, and that they almost always tell a specific story. Stories which, if you don’t know from the words of the accompanying song, one can simply feel because of its incredible characteristic of emotional intensity.

Interest groups…what to do?!

We have the opportunity to choose an interest group to learn and travel with throughout the semester, but I haven’t chosen which one to do yet! Hannah, Randa and I went to an info session at the CIEE office about them, where people in charge of each had little tables set up and we could walk around to talk to them and get a flyer. Apparently the most popular are the IGs that learn about and go to Morocco, C�diz, or Mallorca at the end. There’s also a group that does sports and hiking, and goes to the Real Madrid f�tbol stadium, which was my original first choice, but now I’m not sure! We have to go early tomorrow morning to sign up for which ones we want. I think if I have the choice I’m going to pick the hiking and sports involvement group. I can’t think of any other way I’ll get to do that kind of outdoor activity, but there are plenty of opportunities to go to all of the other places they offered, and “probar las comidas” (try the different food) of Espa�a.

Class scheduling.

After the interest group info session on Thursday, we had to go up stairs to find out about our time for “matriculaci�n,” scheduling classes. Hannah and I were both scheduled for the same time and place – the next day, in the afternoon – while Randa would do hers Saturday in the morning. When we went to do it, we found out that we were placed in the Advanced Grammar group for our 2-week intensive Spanish class. Though not as good as the top 20%, which I’d hoped to score in, I was glad I’d be taking a general Spanish class instead of the Spanish History that they were, that sounded hard. I need to learn some “historia Espa�ola” though, politics and history are very pertinent and important to Spaniards and their culture. Anyways, Randa was in the next level down, which doesn’t make sense, because she and I communicate at relatively the same proficiency (if anything, she’s got better comprehension than me, actually). During my matriculaci�n, I scheduled a bunch of classes, at least one or two of which I will have to drop though, because I took on a pretty heavy load. Two art history courses (one with native Spanish speakers); a seminar in “Living and Learning in Sevilla,” which should be interesting, but also good for my r�sum� because I will get a certificate of “international competence,” or something to that effect, for free when it’s usually the result of a $300 class. I also signed up for a class called “Psychology of Learning a Second Language” (yaay!! :^D Right up my ally), and one on “Lexicology and Semantics of Spanish,” which I’m also really looking forward to. The last is a class Hannah, Randa and I are taking together. It’s on the “Three Cultures of Spain: Christians, Jews, and Muslims,” which is cool, because each of us comes from one of them 🙂

Our First Night Out.

When we came out of scheduling, there was a group of people from Discover Sevilla, a party and travel company that has events for Spanish and international students, standing around passing out cardss. We met and made some connections with the famed Toba, who posts all over FaceBook for all of their events, and has made himself well-known by thousands of students studying abroad here in Seville. He gave me a business card as well, so we can get in touch, and told us to come to their welcome party that night. We didn’t have any other plans, so we decided to check out the club, Abril (Spanish for April, like the month), which was on the other side of town. When we got there at midnight the place was literally empty with the exception of a bartender and two DJs. Uh oh, were we in the right place? We’d shown the guy at the door our promo cards and gotten stamped to come in and have free sangria until 2am, but where were all the other people with little green four-leaf clovers on their wrists?! Apparently no where to be found…until 2am. We watched as groups of other abroad students (none from CIEE though) started to pour in after 12:30. The music was mostly pop from the States, mixed by the DJs for a unique, more danceable sound, but picked up later in the night. By 2am, the place was filled with hundreds of Spaniards, students, and party promoters. We found Toba, who got us cards for free “chupitas” (shots, or mixed drinks, which are served unmixed much of the time, with a bottle of mixer and a half-full glass of hard liquor on the rocks), and got to dancing! It was a great time, just the three of us dancing our hearts out, and of course, watching other people do the same. Most European men stay in a group, and keep to themselves unless a female seems particularly interested in talking or dancing. I appreciated this a lot, as men in the States usually act much less refined in the clubs. I needn’t explain how so – just take a look at a club scene in any popular recent music video – they’re less than considerate of personal space, and to me it’s just a little disturbing. We stayed out until about 3:30am, at which point we figured we should  get home if we wanted to get any kind of rest before our trip to Alcazar (palace) at 9:55 the next morning. Well you should just know that we each hit snooze and decided it might be best if left for another time because at that point, sleep was more important…Randa had to schedule her classes that morning though, so we met to go do that and then get both her and Hannah cell phones.

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People are desperate.

Yesterday when we were walking on the street after scheduling Randa’s classes, we ran into Brogan, someone I’d met on our last night in the hotel. He was headed home with plans to go for a run with some guys from the residencia, which he’s living in, after matriculaci�n. He hadn’t heard from them, so he decided to come with us for  lunch in the plaza by the CIEE study center. While we were seated, talking about life and our personal interests, we saw a number of people walk by panhandling, and playing music for money from instruments I’d never even seen before. These were mostly gypsies. One woman walked around dressed as a clown with balloon animals half-twisted into long strips with poofs and petals, ready to be transformed into dogs and flowers. As the sun hid behind a beautiful old building at my back, we each wondered aloud what it must be like to sit on a corner in a blanket, play an accordian, or dress up as a clown, while life went on around you. I gratefully swallowed delicious chunks of avocado, greek cheese and olives, and tomato; washed down by “tinto de verano” (wine of summer, red with lemonade). After our meal, Brogan separated from us to go for his run, and we went shopping. On our way home, we saw more street ‘actors and artists,’ if you will. They were doing all sorts of crazy stuff. One had his face made-up like a baby and stuck through a hole in a stroller that had a baby doll body made to look like his own. He blew loud smacking kisses and made ridiculous noises as if someone were pulling a string in his back and letting it go, or pressing a sound effects button. Another, on our side of the street, had his head stuck through a table, as if on a plate, with two fake heads to each side, and yelled, “BOO!” when we walked by, which made the three of us practically jump out of our shoes. Then there was the man “knee-deep” in a tiny flower pot, dressed up as a plant, and others playing music and selling chachkees the whole way down the main road in town. We hadn’t expected that, but were much less surprised by the end of the day than the first we’d seen, who danced around the square with a stuffed man and woman strapped to him like a backpack, “dancing” to old Spanish music. It was a quite a sight. And an eye-opening one, at that.

Me Hannah and Randa.jpgOut on the Town.

Last night, we watched our first f�tbol game here in Sevilla! The two big teams of Seville, FC Sevilla, and Real Betis played each other. It was exciting because, as told by Hannah, Betis has been an underdog for a while, and just recently made it high up enough in the ranks to play in the same league as Sevilla. They went into overtime and tied 1-1, which Loli said tonight was a good thing, because it’s a pretty big deal here and “better if everyone’s pleased”. There were hundreds of people packed in the bar that we went to, and cheers and shouts came when either team got ahead or lost the ball, so it was pretty exciting. There weren’t many seats in the bar, even after it cleared out, so we left for a hookah bar that we’d gotten a card for earlier in the night. When we got there, we had a group of almost ten people, but just Hannah, Randa and I ended up staying to chat with the owners and smoke for free as long as we had drinks, which was the promotion of the night. We ended up staying for a while, striking up conversations with regulars who were there with a group of friends; and the owner, who came from Belgium seven years ago, and has lived in Sevilla since. When we realized we couldn’t pay with plastic, we had our new friends take us down the street to show us where to “cajero” (cash machine) was. As we walked down the street, I saw the silhouette of someone pulling something long, skinny, and curved out of the trunk of a car. I was HORRIFIED at the thought that someone might be pulling a rifle out in a semi-public place, and tripped over the sidewalk as I crossed onto the other side of the street. I finally realized that it was a guitar, and laughed at my instinctual fear of the worst. Here in Andalucia, guitars over guns is usually the right selection of “G” words, even at 3:00am in a dark side-street. After we finally got back to the hookah joint and paid, we decided to let two of the guys we’d been talking to take us to a club. One of them, Edu, had come on his bike and offered to take one of us there on it. We decided it was probably better if we didn’t split up…but that doesn’t mean one of us may or may not have taken him up on that offer and gone on a really cool 5 minute ride along the river (wearing a helmet!) and met them there safe and sound :^D …ANYways, Hannah was tired, and my feet were a little sore from the heels I’d been wearing all night, so we only stayed a little while, but it sure was the definition of a fun and spontaneous night in Spain. Home at 4:00am was earlier than a lot of locals were calling it a night, but it felt so good to get into my warm bed, and stay there until noon today!

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��No Soy Espa�ola!!

After waking from my cozy slumber, Randa and I went to go meet Hannah at a caf� on the other side of the river and have some coffee. There was a man there who struck up a conversation with the three of us when he heard us trying to decide what to drink. Apparently, he spent a lot of time in the States at a couple of different points in time, and so, spoke pretty fluent English. He said I speak Castillano with a really accurate accent, and that would be why people (including my host mom, probably) assume I’m Spanish or forget that I’m not, and then speak to me so quickly! He knew I was American but would break into thick and almost incomprehensible speech every now and then when he was addressing me. He also told us some classic differences between US and Spanish gestures, like the one I mentioned earlier. Running a pointer finger, or the edge of one’s hand across the neck is indicative of a threat, and never has the less aggressive meaning of “finished,” or “no need,” like we can use it at home. This whole hour-long conversation took place in both English and Spanish, and incorporated a fair amount of code-switching, which was fun and interesting, because that’s a large part of what I studied this year at Penn State.

Living, Learning, One Day at a Time.

Sometimes it’s been a little tough, but one of the things that I’m starting to notice is the availability of words I didn’t realize I still had in my Spanish vocabulary. It’s a little mentally taxing; and therefore, somewhat emotionally exhausting at times, because of the self doubt that comes with trying to express myself at the level of intellect that I can in English. However, the more I carry long conversations with people – like at dinner with my host mom, and Spaniards I meet – and stick it out, it gets easier. I noticed that last night (not ironically, only after a pretty large gin with strawberry and lemon juice), I found myself speaking more or less fluidly, stopping to search for words less often than I did earlier in the week. At this point, the matter of confidence has dissipated for the most part, and overcoming . The urge to circumlocute (lit., “talk around a word,” as when you describe something instead of talking about it directly) when I can’t find a word is less prevalent than I expected it to be. Maybe because that’s even less efficient than waiting a few moments until the right vocabulary rises to the surface. It’s also been helpful to make myself mental scripts of situations, or long explanations that I need to communicate. 

No, they don’t censor boobs in Europe.

I’ve also come to notice very much the open and direct approach to life and interaction that people have here. To them it’s as though people in the States have a constant filter between their brain and their face, and prevents any “Freudian slips,” as we, not they, would refer to them. The word “mierda,” almost doesn’t even seem to have a direct translation to the English four-letter S word, as is taught in los EEUU (Estados Unidos – pluralized as such so as not to be confused with the EU). It has a different connotation altogether, and can take on either the property of profanity or simple exclamation, depending on how it’s said and used. It’s really easy to catch on when everyone around is this way, and taboos of all kinds are regarded as less serious. It’s normal to express oneself in an honest, but still appropriate, manner. And as the heading of this section suggests, boobs and butts are free game on Spanish television, ads, and publications!

Tomorrow I have to get up early to sign up for my interest group…let’s hope I can be there before everyone else and actually get a spot in something interesting!!


Location: Triana. Sevilla, Spain.

A Million Minutes in a Day

Arrival and Start of Orientation!

So once everyone arrived on Monday, we all realized that our rooms were organized by first name, so I was in a room with two girls named Hannah! At first we thought it was a coincidence but then the room of Emilys and the room of Ashleys, and the room of Amandas assured us otherwise.

Dinner was great, there were lots of fresh veggies and fruit, and some meat, which looked good – for those who would eat it.

After eating, everyone took some time to primp and then split up and go out for drinks and to walk around. I ended up with girls from the room of Ashleys and a bunch of kids from Penn State, so it was fun to sit around and talk Happy Valley with some new and some familiar faces. A few of us that had Spanish 3 together freshman year are planning to go to Ronda, where our professor for that class was from, at some point in the semester. Ronda is unique for its beautiful landscape of cliffs and mountains, many peoples’ homes are carved right into caves and the sides of cliffs! Worth the trip, and in your case, checking out some photos 😉


O'Neil's
 I’ve spoken to some of the other kids from PSU who have both been here for a a few days and still arriving. I hope I have the opportunity to spend some time with them, this will be such a great experience for all of us to have together and go back to State with memories! Funny enough, the bar we went to tonight was Irish. So much for acquainting with the Spanish culture!! I’m sure though, that we’ll get plenty of that over the course of the semester 🙂



Pretty much everyone got back the the hotel by about 1am, which is very early for a normal night out here. We had to get up pretty early the next morning and most people were very jet-lagged from just having arrived, so that was a good thing.

Another Long and Busy Day

Breakfast yesterday, which I’d missed the day before, was great! There were cheeses and prunes, olives, tomatoes with mozzarella and pesto, and a variety of hot dishes that I decided against when I saw all the fresh fruit! Our “guia,” or guide, Carmen, told us that this was not very traditional breakfast food, and more typical of a hotel than a morning spread at home.


After breakfast, we left for 4-5 hour tours of town. We walked around the area where O’Neil’s was to see part of the university, and try to get bus (which is really just a giant rail car that shares the  street with regular street cars) tickets, but as Carmen said, sometimes they’re just not available at the nearest kiosk. So we walked a little further, and then took it all the  way through the part of town where I’d had dinner on the first night, and into el Centro, where the Cathedral, tons of shops, the main bank, and university buildings are located. We saw so many things on the tour that day, it would be hard to  recount. I’m sure we’ll see them all again and I’ll write about and have photos of them in due time.

During orientation they reiterated a lot of things that we’d read or heard about prior, but some things were new. Things like warnings about the fact that everyone wears slippers in the house because most homes (apartments, in our cases) have tile floors that get very cold in the winter.  We finally found out about our homestays, most of which were with families. Mine was with a woman and her elderly mother in an area called Triana, where I would live within blocks of all of the girls from my orientation group, and walking distance across the bridge from the university. We also had some information sessions about our classes and homestays, between which (and through the start of the latter of the two) I slept because I was soo exhausted from the constant activity.  The same was true today between breakfast and our check out at noon, probably because we had such a late night last night.  We left the hotel after a short “descanso” (break), and headed for a flamenco show in town. The area we went to is called Barrio (neighborhood) de Santa Cruz, and used to be inhabited by the Jewish population of Sevilla. Now, there are some remnants of their presence, but mostly in the form of galleries and small pieces of Judaica in little glass cases. I saw one such case in La Casa de la Memoria de Al-Andalus (clearly more recently Moroccan-influenced), which was neat because everything else here is of very intensely Catholic, and/or Moorish roots – like the Catedral, which is a breathtaking mix of the two.

The flamenco itself was incredible. About 90 of us sat squeezed into a high-ceilinged room with a wide banner of ornate tile all the way around. There were old  deep red brick-tile floors  where the concrete underneath was partially exposed in one small spot from the continuous stomping of heels to a traditionally Spanish beat. After a routine, but comical advisory not to use cameras until the end, and that smoking and videos were prohibited, the show began. First, two men entered the room and sat in two chairs on the small stage. One played guitar while the other clapped, tapped his feet,  and sang. Next they moved off to sit behind the stage, and were joined by a dancer, who wowed the crowd with his sharp but flowing spins, stomps and turns. A woman eventually joined them to clap, and occasionally called out various phrases and words in time with the music. Later she danced while the male dancer did the same for her. It was when she was dancing that I remembered the profundity of the emotion behind this art. I was overcome with awe by the reality that flamenco begged of the dancer what I would expect to be a very deep emotional commitment, as well as a physical one. The man and woman then danced together, and made an abrupt exit before coming back in for a short encore and bows. That was when I started to truly feel like we were in Spain, when we saw this example of the dedication to the culture that has been so valued and well-preserved by its people.

After that, our half of the program (groups 1-9, 85 people + 9 guias), made our way down the street for tapas.  We ate so much, I didn’t know how I would walk home afterwards. Piles of potatoes with ketchup and mayonnaise, various roasted veggie, meat, and seafood dishes, and some interesting things I’d never seen before. For example, fried salsa balls, which were bite-sized spheres of pink salsa that tasted like gespacho, bread battered and deep fried. We didn’t get home until almost 1am, at which point some people were ready to (and some did) go out, while others hung around the bar until the lights went out and we figured it would be best to get some sleep.

Moving into the Homestay.

This morning, we had to be up by 9 am for breakfast, and downstairs at 10:30 for orientation activities and Spanish “entrevistas” (interviews), to confirm our language placement. Between the two I took a much needed nap, and afterwards brought down my bags to prepare to leave the hotel and move into my homestay at 11:30. Upon meeting my se�ora, or host mother, we exchanged a kiss on each cheek (always starting with the left), made fun of how much stuff I had (along with the other 20 se�oras standing around us), and caught a taxi to Triana. When we first got there, my host mom introduced me to her daughter and talked with some friends, and then helped me schlep those two deadweight bags up the 3 flights of steps to the 3rd floor. This is another thing about Spain that continually confuses me, despite the fact that I was educated about it in high school: the numbering of the stories in a building. The ground floor is considered Planta 0 (referred to as the “Planta baja”); the one above that, the primera (“1a”) Planta; and what we would call the third floor is la segunda (“2a”) Planta, and so on. In North American counting, we live on the 4th floor, which I prefer, mostly because 4 is my lucky number 🙂

When we finally got all of my stuff in, my host mom asked if I wanted to go for a walk with her daughter and grandson. I wanted to see some of town, so this was a perfect opportunity to do so. We walked around with her new born baby, Ivan, in a stroller, talked about Spain, where she lives now (outside the city in a place called Alcal�), and soaked up the warm afternoon sun. Another thing we learned from Carmen – which I witnessed again on this walk – was that it is perfectly normal for people to take a break in the middle of the day for tapas and a beer. The streets are always full of people sitting or walking around, enjoying the company of one another and the day. I love this aspect of the culture, and think it’s a healthy way to interact, get exercise, and some fresh air.

We had our first meal at about 2:30. It was a plate of potatoes, garbanzos, spinach, and pinto beans that had been cooked with pork (my fears of misunderstanding “red meat” became as real as i’d anticipated they might).  I had a little and simply explained that I include “cerdo” in the list of animals I don’t eat.

I had a quick Skype chat with my dad to update him on how things were going – it was nice to see him and hear his voice 🙂 My host mom then took me to meet up with my group at 4:15 in a plaza nearby. We walked from there to the university for more orientation meetings and info sessions. On the way, i realized that the main road between our neighborhood and the other side if the river, where we were headed, was Calle Betis! It’s one of the most popular strips of shops and tapas bars in town, which I’d heard about before I got here, and mentioned in a pre-trip post. Anyways, this time we walked into a large building where hundreds of students were studying for final exams, which are taking place in the next few weeks. After a grueling two hours of trying to keep our eyes open, and then waiting for who knows what, we found the guides that had been holding us up and made our way into town near the Catedral for tapas.

I went with two girls that I’ve been spending a lot of time with, Ronda and Hannah (Childs – who was my roommate at the hotel), to have some desert while everyone else had drinks at an outdoor bar with our guides afterwards. Ronda and I split a “postre” (dessert) de chocolate y galletas (chocolate and cookies – really more like “rich, soft, cream and choco-layer slice”) and each had coffee. This was delicious.


Finally, we made our way back towards our end of town with 3 other girls. Hannah and I were looking for my apartment after dropping Ronda off at hers, which actually happens to be part of the same building that I live in, and got a little lost. We walked into the wrong number apartment section simply because it was opened, and locked ourselves in by closing it behind us. Hannah was afraid we’d be there all night, but I assured her we’d find a way out in the next 5 minutes.  Without hesitation, I knocked on a door in the third floor, where I could hear loud voices, and a friendly looking man answered. I asked him in Spanish how we could get out, and if he would come down and unlock the door. He responded in English, and of course, it was much simpler than we’d realized. We just had to buzz ourselves out with a button that looks like the light switches on the way up the steps.

At last, Hannah and I made it into my apartment, when I realized that I had my address on my homestay assignment paper. She came in and I introduced her to everyone and then said goodnight. I just took my first shower in the apartment, which was great, considering the small quarters, relative to what I’m used to. I’ve already grown accustomed to asking to use anything that belongs to my host family, and using Spanish to communicate everything. I love Spain, and can’t wait to become better acquainted with my family and the area we live in 🙂

When do we eat? A cultural lesson.

Adjusting to the eating schedule has  been a bit of the challenge, but I like that we have a lot of time between meals, it means we’re hungry when we eat and we really appreciate the food! Breakfast is what ever time you get up, lunch is some time between 1pm and 3pm (or even later some times), and dinner usually consists of tapas any time from 8:30pm to 10ish. Eating late has never really worked well for me, but it helps that we walk around so much and have the opportunity to digest that way.


PS: Because the photo situation here totally sucks, and I’m going to be posting most things on my FaceBook anyways, I’d suggest checking that out. I have an album called Instagram Photos, which has edited versions of all my favorite photography, and will soon upload an album of all of my Spain photos 🙂

Location: Triana. Sevilla, Spain.