Between all of the epic traveling and the excitement of being reunited with Abby last night and going out for tapas with her and my dad into the night... I was in zombie mode all day long. When Patty texted me to say she would have to cancel class tonight, I was soooooo thankful. I went home after Nacho's class and, despite all the work I need to catch up on, lazily sat in my bed looking at possibilities for a summer job and generally blissfully wasting time on the Internet. :)
XOXO
Friday, April 5, 2013
Day 210: Lisbon to Madrid!
We woke up an hour too early, as between Sunday's daylight savings time shift and our cellphones saying different times from each other because one of us had used wifi and the other hadn't, we really had no idea what time it was until we were already up and ready. >_<
After packing up, we still had three whole hours before we had to leave for the airport. I realize we were in Lisbon for almost exactly 24 hours and that, to somebody who has never been here, it seems like not nearly enough time to even get a taste of the city... But the truth is, we had no idea what to do for those three extra hours! I went to a cute shoe store that had been closed yesterday and had a good time looking their adorable, colorful saddle shoe-like heels. After that we rode another streetcar around the city. We ended our time by going to the river and reading a little information about the earthquake and tsunami that devastated Lisbon in 1755 that I had learned a lot about in my History of Brazil class in college.
And then that was that.
We got our bags, rode the metro and checked in to our flight, at which point Easyjet offered to check my bag for free! Sweet! :) By the time we walked the two steps to our gate, we had over two hours to wait. We had lunch, looked or around the meager shops and when we went to get in line we saw the flight had been delayed an hour.
>_<
I just wanna be in my Madrid again!!
I remember after my big Christmas trip around Northern Europe, I was so happy to land in Madrid that I almost cried. I just love it there. I enjoy traveling for sure, but I'm always so happy to be back when it's time. :)
XOXO
After packing up, we still had three whole hours before we had to leave for the airport. I realize we were in Lisbon for almost exactly 24 hours and that, to somebody who has never been here, it seems like not nearly enough time to even get a taste of the city... But the truth is, we had no idea what to do for those three extra hours! I went to a cute shoe store that had been closed yesterday and had a good time looking their adorable, colorful saddle shoe-like heels. After that we rode another streetcar around the city. We ended our time by going to the river and reading a little information about the earthquake and tsunami that devastated Lisbon in 1755 that I had learned a lot about in my History of Brazil class in college.
And then that was that.
We got our bags, rode the metro and checked in to our flight, at which point Easyjet offered to check my bag for free! Sweet! :) By the time we walked the two steps to our gate, we had over two hours to wait. We had lunch, looked or around the meager shops and when we went to get in line we saw the flight had been delayed an hour.
>_<
I just wanna be in my Madrid again!!
I remember after my big Christmas trip around Northern Europe, I was so happy to land in Madrid that I almost cried. I just love it there. I enjoy traveling for sure, but I'm always so happy to be back when it's time. :)
XOXO
Day 209: Lisbon
It was another early morning getting packed up before going downstairs for the "complimentary breakfast" - which consisted of two rolls sealed in plastic with tiny packets of butter, cream cheese and cherry jelly, and Tang or coffee. Dad was somehow delighted with it, whereas I just wanted our normal breakfasts out consisting of strawberry tarts or chocolate croissants with a cafe bonbom. >_<
After breakfast I lead as back to the train station and made one of my most exciting (/ only) purchase of the trip: two fashion magazines - one with Taylor Swift on the cover - in PORTUGUESE!!! ^_^ So. Awesome. I bought them using Portuguese and everything! Even better, they only cost me a grand total of €3! Something like that in the US would be $10 or more per imported, foreign language magazine. Amazing! ;)
I spent the first half of our train ride reading the magazines (and being amazed at how I almost understood everything, and studying the words that were unfamiliar), and the second half listening to a song by a Brazilian singer named Charlie Brown Jr. :) There was a song of his I'd heard on the radio a lot when I was in Brazil that I really liked, and for some reason I'd thought about it last night, so I downloaded it and am now obsessed. :oP I spent two hours listening to it and writing down the lyrics as best as I could. It's an exercise I learned in my AP Spanish class Freshman year of high school and it is something I have my students do, too. It helps you to distinguish word breaks, even when you are unfamiliar with the words, which is oddly rather tricky and also a very useful thing to practice and get good at. It's also fun and sort of addicting... It's like a word treasure hunt of sorts. At least, that's how I view it, as a polyglot in love with anything linguistic. ;)
Right before we got into Lisbon, dad went over the metro info with my and so when we got off the train, I was ready to go. I found all the signs, glanced at the metro maps and knew what I was doing almost instantaneously. He, on the other hand, looked lost as ever.
"I didn't want to come down here. I want to ask if it is faster to take the bus," he said as serious and bothered as could be. He went up to a newsstand and tried to ask the girl his weird question. She didn't speak English, but he kept asking her anyway. Finally he told me to come ask her in Portuguese. o_O I already knew the answer was going to be a resounding "No!" but I did my best to ask her in Portuguese anyway - if for no other reason than to practice my Portuguese - and sure enough, got the expected incredulous negatory.
This metro ordeal continued like this for some time, as we stood in line twice at the information desk for tickets and maps. And I think it was while waiting in the line a second time that I came to the resolute conclusion that I am a very talented solo traveler. You can stick me in a brand new metro system for five minutes, and I've got it figured out enough to get to where I need to be. My style of living (and especially traveling) is to ask the LEAST amount of questions humanly possible if there is a chance that I can figure it out on my own. I enjoy the mental challenge - it's all just a lively game for me. I thrive on the notion that I would excel as a contestant on "The Amazing Race. ;)
Travel and foreign public transportation and navigation for most seems to be synonymous with anxiety and stress... But I think it's because my parents always got this way when we all traveled when I was a kid that I made certain that when I started traveling on my own that all of my solo travels would be full of relaxed curiosity and full of calm wonder. Anytime I'm traveling alone in a new airport or metro station or wherever, I always look like a kid in an enchanted forest, looking at everything around me with wide eyes and using my map as a sort of treasure map for my next journey. Demanding information from information desks or stopping to consult my map ever five seconds or getting stressed would never occur to me. The in-between part of traveling is part of the fun for me. For ME.
But put me with a person with a normal travel style and all my zen goes right out a thirty-story window. >_< I turn into one of those obnoxious Americans I can't stand and suddenly get irrationally upset. It's times like these I think I should have two kids instead of one... Maybe I needed lessons in playing well with others - ha!
Anyway, when we finally got to Lisbon proper, it was pouring. :( The forecast had said that it would be rainy in every city we went to, but we'd been pretty lucky and missed most of the showers. Lisbon was the only one where it was really a downpour situation that didn't let up. We wandered a moment in the rain before finding our hotel and getting settled in.
By this time it was the lunch hour and we were ready for some more Portuguese seafood! We walked down a street full of restaurants off one of the squares and were immediately accosted by maitre des from each restaurant! And when I say accosted, I mean ACCOSTED. They all ran into the rain to show us their menu and tell us they were the best. They tried to get us inside and they told us how all the other restaurants were awful and run by non-Portuguese people. It all felt so uncomfortable... Like we were being hounded by really persistent and shameless. prostitutes! >_<
Finally we chose the first restaurant we'd come across - nobody was running out to hound us there because their two dinning rooms were totally full! It was another good meal filled with fish, bread, veggies and beer. I would just like to say, though, that I've never had a salmon that tasted better than the one I make myself... And this salmon was no better, either. Sheesh! :)
After lunch, we stopped at a super old and adorably classic bakery for dessert and then set out to explore Lisbon. Now, this had been the city I was most excited for all trip long. I imagined it to be a cute, bustling, European capital where you would be surrounded by super sophisticated Portuguese speakers, but still be fairly close to the coast. I guess I imagined a chic Brazil meets San Francisco (because of the infamous streetcars)!
What I got was a seriously run down, tiny town that was falling apart at the seams and looked like it hadn't gotten a bath since the Tsunami of 1755 hit. :( It reminded me a lot of Brazil, in that everything looked like it was practically post-apocalyptic and decaying. Or maybe it felt like it was a few decades away from becoming a full blown haunted ghost town...
But what made it way more depressing than Brazil was that you could tell that at one point in history, this little city was really something amazing... But nobody had put any love into it in decades and decades - as if it were just left there to starve and die. :(
Their sidewalks and plazas weren't paved, but instead had beautiful patterns of black and white tiles (just like the ones famous in Rio that are certainly modeled after these!) that added an exquisite elegance (but they were all warped due to ground shifting over time). Buildings were sided in beautifully colored tiles (that were falling off and cracked). Architecture on old buildings (especially the crazy tall elevator) and cathedrals was intricate and gorgeous (but were now stained in blacks and greys that almost made them look spoiled and moldy, like they could crumble at any moment).
Being in that poor little unloved and unkempt city made me feel so depressed. :(
On top of that, Italian and French was spoken loudly and obnoxiously by tourists, who were out in such great number that it seemed they were the residents! I was hard pressed to find a Portuguese person or hear the language at all - especially with many stores being run by Indian people, it really felt like I was in some cultural melting pot that the Portuguese had not been invited to. :(
We took the streetcars all around town and took one of the funiculars up to see a great view of the city. We walked around and got caught in an umbrella-murdering downpour, so we ducked in a cafe for a cafe bombon (yummy!!) at one point. But after a few hours, we'd kinda run out of things to see, and kept circling the same plazas, as going too far from them felt a little sketchy and unsafe. :-/ Perhaps away from the center there is a lot more to Lisbon. After all, they do have a pretty cool looking castle that we had a perfect view of from our room... But overall, it all just seemed so dreary.
Dinner did nothing to help matters, as I ordered one of their "specialties" and it turned out to be WAY gross!! It was a mixture of cod fish (super famous for it in Portugal), scrambled eggs, fried onions and picnic French fries. O_o Eww. Any form of seafood in scrambled eggs is NEVER okay. I still remember those scrambled eggs Amanda's mom made us once with imitation crab meat and how I thought I was gonna puke all day long... Ugh!
At least the bottle of wine was good. ;)
XOXO
After breakfast I lead as back to the train station and made one of my most exciting (/ only) purchase of the trip: two fashion magazines - one with Taylor Swift on the cover - in PORTUGUESE!!! ^_^ So. Awesome. I bought them using Portuguese and everything! Even better, they only cost me a grand total of €3! Something like that in the US would be $10 or more per imported, foreign language magazine. Amazing! ;)
I spent the first half of our train ride reading the magazines (and being amazed at how I almost understood everything, and studying the words that were unfamiliar), and the second half listening to a song by a Brazilian singer named Charlie Brown Jr. :) There was a song of his I'd heard on the radio a lot when I was in Brazil that I really liked, and for some reason I'd thought about it last night, so I downloaded it and am now obsessed. :oP I spent two hours listening to it and writing down the lyrics as best as I could. It's an exercise I learned in my AP Spanish class Freshman year of high school and it is something I have my students do, too. It helps you to distinguish word breaks, even when you are unfamiliar with the words, which is oddly rather tricky and also a very useful thing to practice and get good at. It's also fun and sort of addicting... It's like a word treasure hunt of sorts. At least, that's how I view it, as a polyglot in love with anything linguistic. ;)
Right before we got into Lisbon, dad went over the metro info with my and so when we got off the train, I was ready to go. I found all the signs, glanced at the metro maps and knew what I was doing almost instantaneously. He, on the other hand, looked lost as ever.
"I didn't want to come down here. I want to ask if it is faster to take the bus," he said as serious and bothered as could be. He went up to a newsstand and tried to ask the girl his weird question. She didn't speak English, but he kept asking her anyway. Finally he told me to come ask her in Portuguese. o_O I already knew the answer was going to be a resounding "No!" but I did my best to ask her in Portuguese anyway - if for no other reason than to practice my Portuguese - and sure enough, got the expected incredulous negatory.
This metro ordeal continued like this for some time, as we stood in line twice at the information desk for tickets and maps. And I think it was while waiting in the line a second time that I came to the resolute conclusion that I am a very talented solo traveler. You can stick me in a brand new metro system for five minutes, and I've got it figured out enough to get to where I need to be. My style of living (and especially traveling) is to ask the LEAST amount of questions humanly possible if there is a chance that I can figure it out on my own. I enjoy the mental challenge - it's all just a lively game for me. I thrive on the notion that I would excel as a contestant on "The Amazing Race. ;)
Travel and foreign public transportation and navigation for most seems to be synonymous with anxiety and stress... But I think it's because my parents always got this way when we all traveled when I was a kid that I made certain that when I started traveling on my own that all of my solo travels would be full of relaxed curiosity and full of calm wonder. Anytime I'm traveling alone in a new airport or metro station or wherever, I always look like a kid in an enchanted forest, looking at everything around me with wide eyes and using my map as a sort of treasure map for my next journey. Demanding information from information desks or stopping to consult my map ever five seconds or getting stressed would never occur to me. The in-between part of traveling is part of the fun for me. For ME.
But put me with a person with a normal travel style and all my zen goes right out a thirty-story window. >_< I turn into one of those obnoxious Americans I can't stand and suddenly get irrationally upset. It's times like these I think I should have two kids instead of one... Maybe I needed lessons in playing well with others - ha!
Anyway, when we finally got to Lisbon proper, it was pouring. :( The forecast had said that it would be rainy in every city we went to, but we'd been pretty lucky and missed most of the showers. Lisbon was the only one where it was really a downpour situation that didn't let up. We wandered a moment in the rain before finding our hotel and getting settled in.
By this time it was the lunch hour and we were ready for some more Portuguese seafood! We walked down a street full of restaurants off one of the squares and were immediately accosted by maitre des from each restaurant! And when I say accosted, I mean ACCOSTED. They all ran into the rain to show us their menu and tell us they were the best. They tried to get us inside and they told us how all the other restaurants were awful and run by non-Portuguese people. It all felt so uncomfortable... Like we were being hounded by really persistent and shameless. prostitutes! >_<
Finally we chose the first restaurant we'd come across - nobody was running out to hound us there because their two dinning rooms were totally full! It was another good meal filled with fish, bread, veggies and beer. I would just like to say, though, that I've never had a salmon that tasted better than the one I make myself... And this salmon was no better, either. Sheesh! :)
After lunch, we stopped at a super old and adorably classic bakery for dessert and then set out to explore Lisbon. Now, this had been the city I was most excited for all trip long. I imagined it to be a cute, bustling, European capital where you would be surrounded by super sophisticated Portuguese speakers, but still be fairly close to the coast. I guess I imagined a chic Brazil meets San Francisco (because of the infamous streetcars)!
What I got was a seriously run down, tiny town that was falling apart at the seams and looked like it hadn't gotten a bath since the Tsunami of 1755 hit. :( It reminded me a lot of Brazil, in that everything looked like it was practically post-apocalyptic and decaying. Or maybe it felt like it was a few decades away from becoming a full blown haunted ghost town...
But what made it way more depressing than Brazil was that you could tell that at one point in history, this little city was really something amazing... But nobody had put any love into it in decades and decades - as if it were just left there to starve and die. :(
Their sidewalks and plazas weren't paved, but instead had beautiful patterns of black and white tiles (just like the ones famous in Rio that are certainly modeled after these!) that added an exquisite elegance (but they were all warped due to ground shifting over time). Buildings were sided in beautifully colored tiles (that were falling off and cracked). Architecture on old buildings (especially the crazy tall elevator) and cathedrals was intricate and gorgeous (but were now stained in blacks and greys that almost made them look spoiled and moldy, like they could crumble at any moment).
Being in that poor little unloved and unkempt city made me feel so depressed. :(
On top of that, Italian and French was spoken loudly and obnoxiously by tourists, who were out in such great number that it seemed they were the residents! I was hard pressed to find a Portuguese person or hear the language at all - especially with many stores being run by Indian people, it really felt like I was in some cultural melting pot that the Portuguese had not been invited to. :(
We took the streetcars all around town and took one of the funiculars up to see a great view of the city. We walked around and got caught in an umbrella-murdering downpour, so we ducked in a cafe for a cafe bombon (yummy!!) at one point. But after a few hours, we'd kinda run out of things to see, and kept circling the same plazas, as going too far from them felt a little sketchy and unsafe. :-/ Perhaps away from the center there is a lot more to Lisbon. After all, they do have a pretty cool looking castle that we had a perfect view of from our room... But overall, it all just seemed so dreary.
Dinner did nothing to help matters, as I ordered one of their "specialties" and it turned out to be WAY gross!! It was a mixture of cod fish (super famous for it in Portugal), scrambled eggs, fried onions and picnic French fries. O_o Eww. Any form of seafood in scrambled eggs is NEVER okay. I still remember those scrambled eggs Amanda's mom made us once with imitation crab meat and how I thought I was gonna puke all day long... Ugh!
At least the bottle of wine was good. ;)
XOXO
Day 208: Faro
We finally got another day to sleep in a little!! ^_^ And in this hotel, I had my own little room all to myself!! Best combination ever!! ;)
After a little lunch in Sevilla, Our whole afternoon was spent on the bus to Portugal. I slept while Dad stared out the window and followed our journey on a map he'd brought with him. Haha!
When we finally got to Faro, Portugal, I was ready and excited! But, it turned out to be nothing like I'd expected. I'd been led to believe that Faro was a really pretty beach town... But it actually looked like a rundown ghost town, like one I'd have seen in Brazil. We made our way to our pension, and the tried to explore, but there just really wasn't anything TO explore, except for abandoned buildings that looked like at one time they were probably very beautiful, and uneven stone roads, that had been laid in a black and white pattern, but that were now eroding.
We ended up walking in a strange circle, in which we'd managed to find the water (but definitely no beach!), two streets close to each other named "Candido" and "Oliveira" (so cool!), a cute bar overlooking the water, and a restaurant called "Chelsea." Not too bad, considering... Haha!
Our mission had been to find a place to eat dinner, but every place we'd found had seemed pretty run down, itself... that, is, until the last one we came upon.
Holy man was the place we had dinner a find! Our waiter was super sweet and recommended we order the "Grilled Fish for Two," which turned out to consist of seven grilled fish, a bunch of shrimp and a bunch of baby muscles!!!! It was delicious, and sooooo much food! We also got a bottle of Portuguese wine, and finished the meal with a yummy glass of Portuguese port. Mmmm... Delicious! At one point in the meal, I mustered the courage to speak to our super cool waiter in Portuguese... And Lo and behold, we managed to have a great conversation!! ^_^ I was way impressed with myself. ;) As we left, he asked me in Portuguese to please come back to visit... And I really would have, had we not been leaving the next morning! That guy and his friend, who was the other waiter, were just so friendly and professional... But really adorable, too! And all of their speaking in Portuguese didn't hurt my impression of them, either. ;)
XOXO
After a little lunch in Sevilla, Our whole afternoon was spent on the bus to Portugal. I slept while Dad stared out the window and followed our journey on a map he'd brought with him. Haha!
When we finally got to Faro, Portugal, I was ready and excited! But, it turned out to be nothing like I'd expected. I'd been led to believe that Faro was a really pretty beach town... But it actually looked like a rundown ghost town, like one I'd have seen in Brazil. We made our way to our pension, and the tried to explore, but there just really wasn't anything TO explore, except for abandoned buildings that looked like at one time they were probably very beautiful, and uneven stone roads, that had been laid in a black and white pattern, but that were now eroding.
We ended up walking in a strange circle, in which we'd managed to find the water (but definitely no beach!), two streets close to each other named "Candido" and "Oliveira" (so cool!), a cute bar overlooking the water, and a restaurant called "Chelsea." Not too bad, considering... Haha!
Our mission had been to find a place to eat dinner, but every place we'd found had seemed pretty run down, itself... that, is, until the last one we came upon.
Holy man was the place we had dinner a find! Our waiter was super sweet and recommended we order the "Grilled Fish for Two," which turned out to consist of seven grilled fish, a bunch of shrimp and a bunch of baby muscles!!!! It was delicious, and sooooo much food! We also got a bottle of Portuguese wine, and finished the meal with a yummy glass of Portuguese port. Mmmm... Delicious! At one point in the meal, I mustered the courage to speak to our super cool waiter in Portuguese... And Lo and behold, we managed to have a great conversation!! ^_^ I was way impressed with myself. ;) As we left, he asked me in Portuguese to please come back to visit... And I really would have, had we not been leaving the next morning! That guy and his friend, who was the other waiter, were just so friendly and professional... But really adorable, too! And all of their speaking in Portuguese didn't hurt my impression of them, either. ;)
XOXO
Day 207 (Part II): Sevilla
Our day in Sevilla was pretty calm, as there was no one big place we HAD to see. We walked around the city, had yummy tapas at on a tiny street, visited the cathedral, had some sangria and took a ton of pictures at Plaza de España - which turned out to be even more gorgeous than I'd imagined, and reminded me A TON of The Venitian in Las Vegas, only more amazing, because of all of the ceramic tiles and cute bridges!! ^_^
At night we went to an authentic Flamenco show, which was interesting and way strange at the same time. Dad loved it, but it mostly freaked me out. In my mind, dance should be flowing or sensual or exquisite in some way... but this was just... loud and violent. Between the lady's clicking instruments on her fingers and painful expression, and the man's stomping and angry eyes and the fast guitar (but beautiful) and the strange, wailing singer... It all felt like an awkward soap opera. As my mind wandered, I imagined Flamenco to be a story about a cockroach love triangle, in which the woman was abused, the man was her drunk abuser, and the singer was a gay cockroach pining for the love of the man. Yeah. That's how I felt about Flamenco...
O_o
Overall, Sevilla was a nice place to spend the day, and finally gave us a moment to breathe!
At night we went to an authentic Flamenco show, which was interesting and way strange at the same time. Dad loved it, but it mostly freaked me out. In my mind, dance should be flowing or sensual or exquisite in some way... but this was just... loud and violent. Between the lady's clicking instruments on her fingers and painful expression, and the man's stomping and angry eyes and the fast guitar (but beautiful) and the strange, wailing singer... It all felt like an awkward soap opera. As my mind wandered, I imagined Flamenco to be a story about a cockroach love triangle, in which the woman was abused, the man was her drunk abuser, and the singer was a gay cockroach pining for the love of the man. Yeah. That's how I felt about Flamenco...
O_o
Overall, Sevilla was a nice place to spend the day, and finally gave us a moment to breathe!
Day 207: Train Reflections
There is no better place to write long, rambling, semi philosophical posts than on a long distance RENFE train going through the Andalucian countryside! This is my version of blissful writing scenery and circumstances. ^_^
Abby emailed me last night from Paris and in her letter she wrote how crazy it was that after we get back, well only have three months left before everything is over. No more Master's program, no more cute apartment, no more CISTA and no more Abbies. :( And the idea of only 90 more days of this wonderful life I've come to adore made me upset.
The idea of change always freaks a person out - especially (?) me. What if this is as good as life gets? What if I never find another friend and roomie as awesome as Abby? What if I never find a job I adore as much as this one? What if I never find an apartment as wonderful as this one?
And then I remembered the secret I've become privy to through years of learning and studying and experiencing and journaling. I looked down at my left wrist and smiled. I'm not a big believer that the future is something that happens to you; I believe the future is something you construct yourself. In essence, it's up to me to create as I desire. The symbol reminds me to always make what comes next even more amazing than where I've just come from.
There is a Pinterest quote that says, "Worrying is a waste of imagination." :)
I'm not sure what I will be doing this summer. I'll need a job of some sort, and a normal person would be getting nervous about it... But, as with many things, I have a ineffable feeling that the universe is in the process of creating the perfect summer adventure for me. All I have to do is be open to it and find it. I'm sure this sounds irresponsible to most, but it's exactly how I've got my last two jobs and met the people in my life who I truly value as of recent. I think many have forgotten the wonder of serendipity through putting out the right energy.
Man, I sound like such a hippie. Ha!
Anyway, there are only three months that I must figure out, cause after that I have some tentative plans. As of right now, I will be teaching in a public school in Madrid proper starting October 1st, and can keep that job until 2015 if I so desire (which I'm 98% sure I won't, but it's nice to know I have job stability!). I'm seriously looking into buying a seafoam green Vespa and plan on getting an apartment near Malasaña with Spanish natives near my age. I really thought my Spanish abilities had stayed stagnant since I'd arrived this go around, but after this trip, I'm seeing that I've picked up a lot more than I realized. So imagining how good I could really get if I lived with natives and really immersed myself is a tantalizing thought!
When I left Colorado at 18, I was nervous to leave my home and friends and everything I knew - but when I got to Fondy, I got introduced to West Coast Swing, got to live with G and Sam, and met J. When I left Fondy, I was nervous to be officially living by myself and was scared I would never see J again - but I loved living in my adorable dorm castle and enjoyed all of my linguistics classes, and starting dating J! When I left my little dorm room, I was nervous about leaving that blissful little bit of life behind - but then I moved into the co-op, which is where I met B and got the idea of living abroad in my head.
I could go on, but the point is, I always have to leave something wonderful behind, but what I gain from the next chapter is something that is always absolutely essential to my story and something unexpected and enchanting. Had I stayed in any of those past chapters for any longer, I wouldn't be where I am now!
There is a part in my most important book that says something to the effect that once you learn not to fear the future and the uncertainties intrinsic in looking to the future, and instead can be confident that everything that will happen will be for your highest good... Well, you've really attainted a level of faith that previously would have seemed impossible.
For years I had OCD because I was always scared of something changing. The idea of future change literally petrified me so much that I developed a disorder to cope with it. So to be where I am - to have faith in myself and the universe - is a huge leap from where I was even half a year ago. And this achievement is not lost on me in the slightest.
I think what the past seven months have really taught me is that my life is far more up to me than I ever imagined. I always thought life just sort of happened to a person, and while they had a little say over it, it wasn't a significant enough amount to really make too much of a difference. But living with people who think this so strongly, and seeing their lives from an objective view point, has shown me how erroneous that belief is.
The past seven months have taught me that love doesn't mean being miserable, that risks pay off, that what you want more than anything else is sometimes not given to you because there is something even better waiting for you than you'd been able to imagine, that I'm not some awkward, disliked, antisocial creature but that I've just been hanging around the wrong people, that I'm loved for who I am and how unique I am by the right people and the wrong people's opinions aren't important because they just weren't meant to understand and there is nothing wrong with that, that I will do anything for people I truly care about and there are people who are really grateful for the little things I do, that my way of living through adventure is an extremely rare way of living and I shouldn't judge people who live in different ways or take it personally when people are confused by my way of living, that I have an entirely different perspective of life and death than the majority of people and that just because it's different doesn't mean I need to second guess it, that I can change what I don't like in my life and that the universe is on my side.
I think that's the biggest one. That the universe is on my side. At least I think it is. I'm too young to really know if all of these philosophies I'm trying on for size are "correct" or not... But so far, I'd say yes. So far, the universe seems to be on my side. I try my best at everything the universe has given me and am grateful for it everyday. And, in exchange, when something isn't working out, I ask the universe for help and it sends me a little parachute down from my sponsors. ;) Haha.
So I guess as Spring Break nears its end, I'm not as nervous as perhaps I logically should be about only having three more months until life once again shifts gears. But that's only because the purpose of life is change, and I've read my favorite book enough times to actually begin to believe that all change is for my highest good and that things wouldn't change if somewhere inside I weren't ready for them to. I've loved this experience, and I'm excited to continue it next Tueaday... But I'm also excited for what comes next. Imagine if my wrist is right and each experience does get better and better!
XOXO
Abby emailed me last night from Paris and in her letter she wrote how crazy it was that after we get back, well only have three months left before everything is over. No more Master's program, no more cute apartment, no more CISTA and no more Abbies. :( And the idea of only 90 more days of this wonderful life I've come to adore made me upset.
The idea of change always freaks a person out - especially (?) me. What if this is as good as life gets? What if I never find another friend and roomie as awesome as Abby? What if I never find a job I adore as much as this one? What if I never find an apartment as wonderful as this one?
And then I remembered the secret I've become privy to through years of learning and studying and experiencing and journaling. I looked down at my left wrist and smiled. I'm not a big believer that the future is something that happens to you; I believe the future is something you construct yourself. In essence, it's up to me to create as I desire. The symbol reminds me to always make what comes next even more amazing than where I've just come from.
There is a Pinterest quote that says, "Worrying is a waste of imagination." :)
I'm not sure what I will be doing this summer. I'll need a job of some sort, and a normal person would be getting nervous about it... But, as with many things, I have a ineffable feeling that the universe is in the process of creating the perfect summer adventure for me. All I have to do is be open to it and find it. I'm sure this sounds irresponsible to most, but it's exactly how I've got my last two jobs and met the people in my life who I truly value as of recent. I think many have forgotten the wonder of serendipity through putting out the right energy.
Man, I sound like such a hippie. Ha!
Anyway, there are only three months that I must figure out, cause after that I have some tentative plans. As of right now, I will be teaching in a public school in Madrid proper starting October 1st, and can keep that job until 2015 if I so desire (which I'm 98% sure I won't, but it's nice to know I have job stability!). I'm seriously looking into buying a seafoam green Vespa and plan on getting an apartment near Malasaña with Spanish natives near my age. I really thought my Spanish abilities had stayed stagnant since I'd arrived this go around, but after this trip, I'm seeing that I've picked up a lot more than I realized. So imagining how good I could really get if I lived with natives and really immersed myself is a tantalizing thought!
When I left Colorado at 18, I was nervous to leave my home and friends and everything I knew - but when I got to Fondy, I got introduced to West Coast Swing, got to live with G and Sam, and met J. When I left Fondy, I was nervous to be officially living by myself and was scared I would never see J again - but I loved living in my adorable dorm castle and enjoyed all of my linguistics classes, and starting dating J! When I left my little dorm room, I was nervous about leaving that blissful little bit of life behind - but then I moved into the co-op, which is where I met B and got the idea of living abroad in my head.
I could go on, but the point is, I always have to leave something wonderful behind, but what I gain from the next chapter is something that is always absolutely essential to my story and something unexpected and enchanting. Had I stayed in any of those past chapters for any longer, I wouldn't be where I am now!
There is a part in my most important book that says something to the effect that once you learn not to fear the future and the uncertainties intrinsic in looking to the future, and instead can be confident that everything that will happen will be for your highest good... Well, you've really attainted a level of faith that previously would have seemed impossible.
For years I had OCD because I was always scared of something changing. The idea of future change literally petrified me so much that I developed a disorder to cope with it. So to be where I am - to have faith in myself and the universe - is a huge leap from where I was even half a year ago. And this achievement is not lost on me in the slightest.
I think what the past seven months have really taught me is that my life is far more up to me than I ever imagined. I always thought life just sort of happened to a person, and while they had a little say over it, it wasn't a significant enough amount to really make too much of a difference. But living with people who think this so strongly, and seeing their lives from an objective view point, has shown me how erroneous that belief is.
The past seven months have taught me that love doesn't mean being miserable, that risks pay off, that what you want more than anything else is sometimes not given to you because there is something even better waiting for you than you'd been able to imagine, that I'm not some awkward, disliked, antisocial creature but that I've just been hanging around the wrong people, that I'm loved for who I am and how unique I am by the right people and the wrong people's opinions aren't important because they just weren't meant to understand and there is nothing wrong with that, that I will do anything for people I truly care about and there are people who are really grateful for the little things I do, that my way of living through adventure is an extremely rare way of living and I shouldn't judge people who live in different ways or take it personally when people are confused by my way of living, that I have an entirely different perspective of life and death than the majority of people and that just because it's different doesn't mean I need to second guess it, that I can change what I don't like in my life and that the universe is on my side.
I think that's the biggest one. That the universe is on my side. At least I think it is. I'm too young to really know if all of these philosophies I'm trying on for size are "correct" or not... But so far, I'd say yes. So far, the universe seems to be on my side. I try my best at everything the universe has given me and am grateful for it everyday. And, in exchange, when something isn't working out, I ask the universe for help and it sends me a little parachute down from my sponsors. ;) Haha.
So I guess as Spring Break nears its end, I'm not as nervous as perhaps I logically should be about only having three more months until life once again shifts gears. But that's only because the purpose of life is change, and I've read my favorite book enough times to actually begin to believe that all change is for my highest good and that things wouldn't change if somewhere inside I weren't ready for them to. I've loved this experience, and I'm excited to continue it next Tueaday... But I'm also excited for what comes next. Imagine if my wrist is right and each experience does get better and better!
XOXO
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Day 206: Cordoba
One thing about me is this: I am always late. If I'm not full in late, I'm at least cutting it really close. And for the most part, I am fine with this. I rather be sleeping or doing something I was enjoying and be a little late than interrupt my more enjoyable activity to get somewhere early and then have to just sit there and stare at the wall for an extra half hour or hour just waiting. When I have to wait I get so restless and perturbed that I cannot focus my energy properly into reading a book or writing.
I know society says I should feel guilty about this, but I don't. Just like how I learned once that I didn't have to feel bad for being a procrastinator nor for perfecting to communicate in confrontational situations through writing. Heck, whole cultures are known for being late, and they don't apologize, they just feel people should know that a out them - ha.
Anyway, I was awoken what felt like decades before I had set my alarm to get up, and was utterly unsurprised when we ended up at the chilly bus station 45 minutes early. >_< So when we were finally of the bus, I used it as my chance to PASS OUT!
When I awoke, we were in Cordoba! After a failed attempt at finding a laundromat for my dad, we got to our pension. Well, sort of. The street to it was closed for construction so I had to ask one of the construction workers how on earth to get there. His directions were a little odd, but I followed them perfectly and we were at our pension in no time, marking the second time in three days I'd gotten us to our hotel thanks to some strange directions that I managed to understand perfectly (that is always the trickiest part outnof all of the foreign language unit exams!!)!
We out our bags down, put on fresh outfits and were out the door, headed for lunch. We ate at a highly recommended place, but it wasn't super good. I had flavorless gazpacho and then meat balls, with oranges in olive oil and cinnamon for dessert. Dad had ox tail. :( Eww!
After lunch we were finally ready for what we'd come there to see: La Mezquita!! ^_^
It was both incredible AND not at all what I had expected whatsoever. In my mind - after studying about it in my History of Spanish Art class I took from Little Gay Professor Man the other summer during my time studying abroad in Alcalá - the mosque was going to be HUGE. The ceilings were going to be so high that you could hardly see them and the part with the famous red and white arches were to be outside, surrounding the mosque itself in the center. I imagined all the walls to be crazy detailed - like the ones at the Alhambra - and for it to feel very open and very middle eastern holy.
What I got was a rectangular building with a fairly lackluster courtyard just in front that was mostly cobblestones with few signs of vegetation and no red and white arches. Those were all inside the mosque, and mostly made it feel rather small and confined, as compared to other cathedrals we'd seen that had ceilings so high you practically couldn't see them. There really were a ton of them, though!!! And they really were absolutely gorgeous!
I knew the mosque had been converted into a cathedral a long time ago, but I had no idea it still functioned as one. On the permitter of it all were those little spaces with bars, each dedicated to a different saint. And the main cathedral part in the middle was gorgeous, but looked just like all the other cathedrals - it definitely didn't want to associate itself with the moorish feeling of what was surrounding it!
Dad said we had an hour to explore solo, but I was done after 20 min. I was intrigued, but honestly a little disappointed that it wasn't as ridiculously grandiose as I had imagined it in my mind. So, I began playing the game H and I nada invented when were at El Escorial in which you try to find as may skulls as you possibly can. It sounds random, but it was based off of a game of Bad Pigs we'd been playing earlier that day and was perfectly amusing to us. :) Call it immature (he did, but was just as into it as I was!), but man! I scoured every inch of that mosque in 40 minutes on a serious mission. In the end, I found 12, and was more than proud of my results. ;)
After the mosque, we went to the alcazar and gardens... Which were pretty... But Dad and I agreed that we'd already seen so much - and so much of it so mindbogglingly impressive - that everything was sort of starting to run together and we were no longer impressed half as easily as we would have been a week previously! Haha.
We spent the rest of the late afternoon and early evening just walking around and stopped for an ice cream along the way. Dad let me wander without any maps and I had a great time turing onto tiny random streets and accidentally running into cute shops and important landmarks! :)
When it came time for dinner, I picked the restaurant and we sat outside under one of those cozy heat lamps and relaxed, watching the crowds roll in for that night's procession. We ate at a lot of restaurant during our trip, but this one was one of my all time favorites! It was called "Fusion" and the inside of it looked a little like Hollister or Abercrombie and Fitch. :) So chic and so unexpected - it looked like a place you'd find in South Beach, not in little, run down Cordoba!
And the food! I ordered Jack Daniels BBQ ribs with fries and a few glasses of sangria. Oh. My. God. Delicious!!! ^_^
By the time we left to head back, it was dark and the processions were in full swing, which made it nearly impossible for us to get back to our hotel, as it was on one of the streets that the procession was on! We squeezed, waited, watched, squeeze, waited, watched... And finally arrived back!
XOXO
I know society says I should feel guilty about this, but I don't. Just like how I learned once that I didn't have to feel bad for being a procrastinator nor for perfecting to communicate in confrontational situations through writing. Heck, whole cultures are known for being late, and they don't apologize, they just feel people should know that a out them - ha.
Anyway, I was awoken what felt like decades before I had set my alarm to get up, and was utterly unsurprised when we ended up at the chilly bus station 45 minutes early. >_< So when we were finally of the bus, I used it as my chance to PASS OUT!
When I awoke, we were in Cordoba! After a failed attempt at finding a laundromat for my dad, we got to our pension. Well, sort of. The street to it was closed for construction so I had to ask one of the construction workers how on earth to get there. His directions were a little odd, but I followed them perfectly and we were at our pension in no time, marking the second time in three days I'd gotten us to our hotel thanks to some strange directions that I managed to understand perfectly (that is always the trickiest part outnof all of the foreign language unit exams!!)!
We out our bags down, put on fresh outfits and were out the door, headed for lunch. We ate at a highly recommended place, but it wasn't super good. I had flavorless gazpacho and then meat balls, with oranges in olive oil and cinnamon for dessert. Dad had ox tail. :( Eww!
After lunch we were finally ready for what we'd come there to see: La Mezquita!! ^_^
It was both incredible AND not at all what I had expected whatsoever. In my mind - after studying about it in my History of Spanish Art class I took from Little Gay Professor Man the other summer during my time studying abroad in Alcalá - the mosque was going to be HUGE. The ceilings were going to be so high that you could hardly see them and the part with the famous red and white arches were to be outside, surrounding the mosque itself in the center. I imagined all the walls to be crazy detailed - like the ones at the Alhambra - and for it to feel very open and very middle eastern holy.
What I got was a rectangular building with a fairly lackluster courtyard just in front that was mostly cobblestones with few signs of vegetation and no red and white arches. Those were all inside the mosque, and mostly made it feel rather small and confined, as compared to other cathedrals we'd seen that had ceilings so high you practically couldn't see them. There really were a ton of them, though!!! And they really were absolutely gorgeous!
I knew the mosque had been converted into a cathedral a long time ago, but I had no idea it still functioned as one. On the permitter of it all were those little spaces with bars, each dedicated to a different saint. And the main cathedral part in the middle was gorgeous, but looked just like all the other cathedrals - it definitely didn't want to associate itself with the moorish feeling of what was surrounding it!
Dad said we had an hour to explore solo, but I was done after 20 min. I was intrigued, but honestly a little disappointed that it wasn't as ridiculously grandiose as I had imagined it in my mind. So, I began playing the game H and I nada invented when were at El Escorial in which you try to find as may skulls as you possibly can. It sounds random, but it was based off of a game of Bad Pigs we'd been playing earlier that day and was perfectly amusing to us. :) Call it immature (he did, but was just as into it as I was!), but man! I scoured every inch of that mosque in 40 minutes on a serious mission. In the end, I found 12, and was more than proud of my results. ;)
After the mosque, we went to the alcazar and gardens... Which were pretty... But Dad and I agreed that we'd already seen so much - and so much of it so mindbogglingly impressive - that everything was sort of starting to run together and we were no longer impressed half as easily as we would have been a week previously! Haha.
We spent the rest of the late afternoon and early evening just walking around and stopped for an ice cream along the way. Dad let me wander without any maps and I had a great time turing onto tiny random streets and accidentally running into cute shops and important landmarks! :)
When it came time for dinner, I picked the restaurant and we sat outside under one of those cozy heat lamps and relaxed, watching the crowds roll in for that night's procession. We ate at a lot of restaurant during our trip, but this one was one of my all time favorites! It was called "Fusion" and the inside of it looked a little like Hollister or Abercrombie and Fitch. :) So chic and so unexpected - it looked like a place you'd find in South Beach, not in little, run down Cordoba!
And the food! I ordered Jack Daniels BBQ ribs with fries and a few glasses of sangria. Oh. My. God. Delicious!!! ^_^
By the time we left to head back, it was dark and the processions were in full swing, which made it nearly impossible for us to get back to our hotel, as it was on one of the streets that the procession was on! We squeezed, waited, watched, squeeze, waited, watched... And finally arrived back!
XOXO
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