Friday, May 6, 2011

To Be Continued

My time in Spain is winding down. 12 days and counting! I am probably way too excited for salmon on the grill, my queen sized bed and a swimming pool. Yet, is that unheard-of? For almost 5 months I have shared a room, lived off ¼ of my wardrobe and somehow politely stomached rabbit, eel and gulas (wiggly worms). When I said I miss home my mother assured me, “that’s normal you’ve been away forever.” Yet, thinking about everything that I will soon be reunited with in the United States makes me reflect on everything I have grown to love here, that which I will miss once I’m fully Americanized again. 1. Maria Jose, I have never had a teacher, guidance councilor or tour guide who has taken so much pride in her job and pupils. Maria Jose is unlike any person I know. She is unbelievably smart, honest and caring. She took every possible measure to make our time abroad, both in the classroom and outside, truly enjoyable and successful. That woman deserves a medal! 2. The CAN CAN and every other local restaurant and bar that welcomed my group with free drinks, as locals, whom they wholeheartedly included in every ounce of fun to be had in this small town. I will miss the European students I met here that improved my Spanish and expanded my outlook on everything from politics to my classes, music and life. 3. Plaza de Cervantes, our meeting ground before every night out and again, the next morning to discuss the night’s festivities. The Plaza is our beach, our cafeteria and library. It is where my stay in Alcala began, where I first exchanged double cheek kisses with my host parents before timidly and silently (as I spoke no Spanish yet) followed them home. The Plaza de Cervantes is also where I will bid Alcala de Henares, its charm and my time here, good-bye, when I load my life back into two suitcases then stuff it below the bus that will inadvertently send me home.

“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and
adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only
we seek them with our eyes open.” - Jawaharial Nehru

Although I miss home I will miss what I have gained here, much more. I cannot say that I will ever return to Alcala. I do promise, however, that this Spanish adventure is the first of many trips that I will take, leave and miss. There is more to see and learn and love. Turn the Paige: A Travel Blog; to be continued.

Barcelona

Like all trips I have taken with my entire group and our program director, Maria Jose, my weekend in Barcelona was loaded with museum visits, architectural sightseeing and cathedral tours. I was really impressed by all of the above, especially the cathedral designed by Gaudi which is still a work in progress 84 years after he died. As I am sure you can imagine, Gaudi’s cathedral is immaculate, innovative and enormous. I truly did enjoy roaming its vastness and imagining its magnificence after completion. On group trips we spend half of our time sightseeing and the other half broken up, to enjoy whichever aspect of the destination we choose. Friends and I ventured to the beach and a fascinating bar called the Dow Jones at night. The Dow Jones was the most unique establishment I have ever frequented. Unlike on Wall Street, patrons at Barcelona’s Dow Jones buy drinks in an attempt to crash the market. An influx in the sale of one drink slashes the price of another in half. It was fun to “Crash the market” with my group.

Barcelona is similar to Madrid. The buildings have character and the nightlife is unreal. Personally, I prefer Barcelona because of its proximity to the ocean. Friends and I spent hours lounging in our jeans and t-shirts on the breezy Barcelona beach. We shared sand coated pizza and the best-of memories we compiled from our 4 ½ months abroad together. Barcelona was beautiful and ideal because it was not too action packed to truly enjoy the city and each other.

Take 2

My flight to Greece was the first ticket I purchased in January when my group and I scrambled to fit an entire continents worth of traveling into four short months. Tori, Marissa, Shelby and I would be Lena Kaligaris, Bridget, Carmen and Tibby of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. For those of you not familiar with the PG classic, four friends travel to Greece to find love, adventure and ride mopeds. While we neither met Greek beaus nor toured the city by moped we most certainly found adventure in Greece. On days one and two the girls and I visited the Acropolis, the Parthenon, Poseidon’s Temple and Olympic Stadium. While each was incredible, ancient and picture worthy I think Rome sucked the will to sightsee from the very core of my soul. Four days remaining in an unexpectedly rainy, cold and tourist teeming Athens seemed like an eternity.

Always an optimist, I layered my newest purchase, an “I love Athens” sweatshirt, beneath my hooded wind breaker and the sundress I somehow twisted into a scarf. What to do? The girls and I spent time shopping in a district we found littered by vendors and flea-market sales. When we tired of haggling prices we sought cheap, authentic Greek food. Now it is our turn to be haggled. Choosing a restaurant in Greece is like an extreme sport. One cannot walk 12 feet without being offered a free glass of wine, the best table or tatziki on the house. As tourists we were not aware that these selling ploys are available everywhere. In Athens one must defend their wallets and hankerings against the most skilled of hagglers.

Our hostel in Greece was as gross as the weather. We never found the night life and I sadly did not marvel at the history and culture that defines the city of Athens. Despite the negatives I do not regret the time I spent in Greece. I was luckily surrounded by girls who, like me, aimed to make the best of our situation. While some downtime was spent complaining, and missing home and even our home-stays, we spent most of our vacation in Greece laughing, tried by our situation but happy to be together. While I would never again vacation in Athens I will remember the dreary week I spent there, fondly, because of the happy hooligans who made Greece, and studying Abroad, an unforgettable experience.

Spring Break take 1

I spent the first half of my spring break in Rome, Italy. Roma for me is marked by Pope Benidict XVI and the Ivanhoe Party hostel. For four nights the Ivanhoe provided its guests with everything from feathered bedding to homemade Sicilian Pasta. Florentine, the native Sicilian whose hand rolled rigatoni woke my taste buds from an insipid Spanish slumber, told me that he cooked to make people happy. As I slurped and twirled the luscious linguini I found it impossible to believe he was our hostel host and not a top contender in TLC’s Top Chefs. Needless to say, and just as he’d hoped, his cooking made me happy. Florentine is one of the many colorful comrades that decorated the Ivanhoe during my four night stay.

Like most people who have traveled to Italy I frequented all the must-sees of the historic city. In one day I trekked my faulty flip flops through the shattered stones still standing in the Roman Forum, the Pantheon and the Coliseum. The latter is by far the most magnificent and well-preserved historical landmark that I have ever visited, climbed or stood inside. The girls and I spent two hours in the Coliseum eavesdropping beside every English tour guide who passed us so we could learn as much as possible about the gorgeous gates of granite we wandered through. More than any other historical site I’ve seen, the Coliseum took my breath away. Later in the week we toured both the Vatican Museum and St. Peter’s basilica. I was additionally given the opportunity to attend Palm Sunday mass at St. Peter’s Basilica. When I was handed the free ticket my initial thought was, why not? The mass was in Italian and my “late” arrival, solely one hour early, left me smooshed behind and between too many tall Catholics. So technically speaking, I neither saw nor understood the majority of the service. Yet, must one comprehend everything, in its entirety, to take part in it? I stood beside families with clenched hands and waving palms. Women cried as they stood sprinkled by holy water. Being abroad has taught me one mustn’t understand everything, fully, to embrace it. If that was my mindset I would have neither spoken nor tried anything new, as a foreigner in Spain. Thus, although I could make no sense of the Pope’s homily I fully embraced the height of unity and emotion dispensed throughout the diverse crowd of devout worshipers. Being involved in this sacred and celebrated event connected me further to the extraordinary city I’d been raving about all week.