Corrobration.

I would like to take a second and clarify something important about this blog.

At the crux of the relationship between the blog writer and blog reader is the trust that the experiences and perceptions being related by the writer are genuine.  Such is the case with this blog.  Though lending itself willingly to sarcasm and hyperbole, there needs to be trust between you and me that the events portrayed are indeed factual and accurate, (though slightly exaggerated at times).  Hopefully this doesn’t seem contradictory.  Let’s see some illustrations, eh?

For example, in the Guide to Granada post, when I said, "You may be in Granada if you get a tapa the size of your face, for free, with your drink," you can rest assured that the tapas in question are satisfyingly large.  Whether or not they are, in actuality, comparable to the size of the human face depends on the restaurant (not to mention the size of the face in question).  Also, it feels much more satisfying to say, "the size of your face," than "really big."  I'm hoping it's much more satisfying to read as well.

Another example of creative license can be found in my entry about the movie "Babe."  I was exaggerating mildly when describing the amount of "tearful expression" that occurs on my end.  Don't get me wrong, I pretty much always cry, but it's not the messy sobfest I made it out to be.  In reality, the phrase "tasting their salty sadness" popped into my head for some reason and I felt compelled to use it.

(If you're becoming at all disillusioned, my most sincere apologies.  This is going to lead us to a better place in the end.  I promise.)

I say all this because I don’t want you to think that I’m wont to creating completely fictitious happenings.  For me, this is not a platform for invention.  Mostly I want to communicate what’s happening around me, or in my brain, and hopefully get two primary things in return: laughs, and some confirmation that I’m not nuts, haha.

All this has come to my attention because my friend, Valerie, whom you already know, and I were walking around town the other day an she told me that she read my “Guide to Granada" entry.  The following conversation ensued:

Me: “Oh yeah?  Great!  What did you think?”

Valerie: “Yeah, I thought it was good, but…”

Pregnant Pause

Valerie: “Well, I read the part about ‘seeing weird stuff like the "Pacmen" on the reg.’  I thought, ‘that’s bullshit, he does not see that kind of stuff all the time.'”

Me: “Really?”

Valerie: “Well, I was thinking that as I read it, then I walked outside of my apartment today and saw three girls dressed as Mickey Mouse and thought, ‘oh…well maybe he’s right.’”

 

So, dear reader, take comfort in knowing that I’m making no attempts to deceive you.  From now on, let’s be honest with each other, shall we?  It just makes everything so much less complicated.

In other news, I have three very busy weekends coming up.

Next weekend is this place:

I hope to come back quite sun burned.

Followed by a long weekend beginning in Amsterdam (finally), and ending in my favorite place in Europe:

Photo courtesy of my friend Sarah.

Then, assuming I have any funds left, I'm hoping to make a more local trip to Toledo and a few other Medieval cities in Spain.  I'll keep you posted.

Como se dice "brunch" en español?

One of the greatest aspects of living in a small city is that all of my friends live within about 20 minutes of each other, at the most.  This makes getting together for last minute events easy, fun and frequent.

Two of my best CIEE buds, Annie and Valerie, came over yesterday for some sweet brunch action.  We cooked up some chicken and spinach (is it weird I've been missing spinach lately?) with lots of spices, onions and garlic, and then made a goat cheese and walnut salad.  The weather was beautiful outside, so, rather than the original plan of watching a movie while eating, I cleaned up the patio furniture and we had a delish, sun-filled lunch.

I never really spend any time on our patio.  Not sure why, really.  Well, I mean it's been crap weather for the past few months, but I think I'm going to try and venture out there more.  We normally get direct sun from 11 until around 3 or so.  Pretty much the only drawback is that the plastic chairs out there get dirty really fast, so you always have to clean them.  I guess another drawback could be that one of our elderly neighbors that lives above us likes to look out her window and keep track of our apartment's happenings.  So much for a no-line tan, I suppose.

Anyway, so we got all the food outside and enjoyed our meal in the warm and refreshing sunlight.

Val, Annie and myself.

(I know the picture looks super posed, but I just put my camera on the window sill and set it to take dozens of pictures, so we were just eating our meal, conversing per usual.)

After our meal we moved things inside (the sun had moved away) and set up my computer to watch the hottest movie of 7 months ago: Black Swan.

I thought it was brilliant.  I normally try my best to eschew whatever the current fad is, but I have to say, the movie was really impressive.  I don't want to give anything away (for the five of you out there who haven't seen it), but the friction between good vs. evil (white swan vs. black swan) was projected in the most intriguing way.  It starts out as the typical internal struggle, then quickly gets projected outward onto one of the other characters who embodies the "black swan" ideal.  Eventually the main character couldn't even tell the difference anymore between herself and the other character.  Very interesting. (Shannon: Let me know when you're around so we can debrief, please)  I'm not exactly excited to see it again, but I would definitely recommend it...to some people.

Natalie Portman did an unbelievable job with all the dancing and acting.  I can't imagine how much training she had to go through.  I've never really been a big fan of Portman, but I have to say she moved up a few steps in my opinion.  I'm sure she'll be glad to hear it, haha.

Men's March Malta Madness.

I had the great fortune last weekend to visit the bizarre and wonderful island nation of Malta.

I had been looking forward to this trip since my friends and I bought our plane tickets on December 8^th.  I remember the date very clearly because it was the day I missed my flight back to Spain from Paris due to inclement weather, and was forced to spend the night in a hotel in the most distasteful town in the world: Beauvais, France.  Just a little background.

I bought a Lonely Planet guidebook to Malta while in Paris, and looked through it in the weeks leading up to the Malta voyage to figure out what there actually is to do on the island.  You may be asking yourself, “You mean you didn’t know what there was to do on the island before you bought your tickets?”  To you I say, “You are correct, sir!”

The only things I really knew about Malta were that it’s an island off the southern coast of Italy, about halfway between Sicily and Libya, it’s famous for the “Knights of Malta,” and the language (Malti or Maltese, both are correct) is the only Semitic language with a Latin alphabet.  That last one means that, while the language is written with the same letters we use in English (or French, or Spanish, or German, or Italian), the words have their roots in Arabic.  If you transcribed Arabic phonetically into English, you’d be able to see similarities between quite a few words.  It’s really fascinating.  Needless to say, I bought a dictionary.

I went with three of my good friends from my teaching in Spain program, Mike, Joey and Reed.  We decided when we bought the tickets that we wanted to keep things low key and have some guy time.  It was probably one of the most fun weekends of my life.  I enjoy traveling with my amigas here in Spain, don't get me wrong.  That being said, it was nice to take a break and just kick it with some brohans.  It was a very relaxed, meander-from-place-to-place kind of trip.  A vacation indeed.

We had to fly out of Sevilla, so we all convened the day before to hang out for the afternoon/evening.  I met up with my Sevilla host mom for lunch and one of the CIEE program directors, Helena, after lunch for some lunch beers.  Mike Fish joined us as well.

Mike Fish, Helena and myself at Plaza Alfalfa, Sevilla

Eventually I met up with my amigos americanos and we had dinner at Los Coloniales (fantastic), and then met up with some other friends who live in Sevilla for some drinks.

We flew out to Malta the next afternoon, finally got to our hostel in Valletta (the capital), met a girl named Vanessa who was in our hostel, and then corralled her into joining us a night out in the neighboring town of Paceville (the going out capital).  It was a surprisingly happening place.  Despite the windy rainy weather, the Maltese youth were out in full force, dressed to the nines.  I was impressed.  I feel like a lot of the time in Spain jeans and an ambiguously logoed t-shirt are “going out” attire.  These kids were wearing button up shirts, jackets, nice shoes and dress pants, dresses and stilettos.  The works.

We hit up the town for a few hours and then retreated back to sleepy Valletta.

The next two days were filled with trips around the island to see different sites.  We saw some 5000-year old temples that were arranged according to where the sun rises on the Equinox.  We went to the other side of the island (an 45-minute, 0,50€ bus ride) and got rained on while looking at some cliffs, and then stopped for a visit to the fortified city of Mdina.

My favorite part of the trip was the visit to Mdina (pronounced /emdeena/).  It’s smack in the middle of the island, and is incredibly well preserved.  Here’s an aerial shot:

Sky shot of "The Silent City," Mdina.

If it looks big, don’t be fooled.  You could walk from one end to the other in less than 5 minutes probably (the whole city is 0.3 sq miles).  Mostly all the streets had this uniform tan stone on the building façades.  At first I thought the city was too sterile and uniform to be beautiful.  After walking around for a while, however, it dawned on me that there was an inherent beauty in its simplicity.  I don’t really know how to explain it other than that.  The longer I was there the more comforted and more at ease I felt by my surroundings.  I would highly recommend it.

After a few days of seeing as much as we could of the island (no beaches, unfortunately), we had to return to Spainland.

Thanks, Malta, for good times.

Reed, Mike and Joey at the Hagar Qim temples.

The preferred form of Maltese public transportation.

Cathedral in Mdina.

Streets of Mdina.

Another Mdina shot.

The cold, windy and rainy cliffs of Dingli.

Evidence of the weather...lol.

Square outside of Valletta with the Floriana cathedral in the background.

Valletta at night.

On the shoreline.

A Guide to Granada.

I've recently decided that this blog, while originally created to relay my international escapades, has fallen woefully short of that intent.  Not that humorous introspection doesn't have its place, but I think I should try to switch it up a little.  Come with me now and take a walk though my streets: the streets of Granada.

You may be in Granada if...

#1. You may be in Granada if...when you order a drink, you get a tapa the size of your face with it...for free.

A "Los Pescadores" tapa captured by one Hannah Martone.

(For those of you not in the know, a “tapa” is normally a small serving of food that traditionally comes with a drink, originally on “top” of the drink.  I think it was created to keep flies from getting in the drink, but I can’t speak to the veracity of that theory.)  It's no secret that Granada IS the happeningist place for foodies of all tapas persuasions.  The size and tastiness of the free tapa will vary immensely depending on the establishment being patronized.  Some of the best tapas are located in my neighborhood, the infamously hip Plaza de Toros.  Caution: A lot of the time your brain is tricked into thinking that the tapa is larger than it actually is because of the massive quantities of bread served with the tapa.  Do not be fooled!  A restaurant of superior quality will not rely on bread alone, but will craft a quality tapa from a variety of ingredients for your dining pleasure.  Local Granadinos benefit from tapa restaurants of all sizes and varieties: Spanish, Moroccan, World-fusion, Spanish, French, Italian, and Spanish.  It’s deliciously dangerous.

#2. You may be in Granada if…you see weird stuff like this on the reg.

Just another typical day in Granada.

I don’t know if this happens as frequently in the other capital cities around Andalucía/Spain, but, to date, I’ve seen roving groups of teletubbies, vampires, the pac-men pictured above, and even boxes of condoms.  I’m sure there've been more, but that’s all I can remember for the moment.  If there is a purpose behind these shenanigans, it is completely lost on me.  I will say, however, that they have made me much more diligent about having my camera with me whenever I go out.

#3. You may be in Granada if…you can see the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains from almost anywhere.

View of the Sierra Nevadas from Avenida de la Constitución.

The Sierra Nevadas are the highest mountains in continental Spain.  While rather small in comparison to a lot of other mountain ranges around the world, they nonetheless contain a certain majesty.  I’ve had the experience several times where something stupid will be bothering me as I leave my apartment.  As soon as I get to Avenida de la Constitución, however, I have the view pictured above, and I remember, “oh yeah, it’s not that big of a deal.”  I can’t quite explain it, but feeling small is healthy from time to time, methinks.  It’s a great reminder that the world, in fact, does not revolve around me and my silly problems.

#4. You may be in Granada if…you have one of the most awe-inspiring cathedrals in Spain at your doorstep.

Definitely worth the 3,50€ entry fee.

The Granada cathedral, according to one Rick Steves, is the second largest Gothic cathedral in Spain (after Sevilla’s), and is one of only two Renaissance churches in Spain (high five to Córdoba for having the other).  One thing that makes this cathedral especially unique is the brightness of the interior.  Most cathedrals are rather dark inside, whereas Granada’s is exceptionally bright.  If it weren’t so expensive to go for a visit, I would probably go once a week or so, just to take it in.  I think it goes back to that “feeling of smallness.”

#5. You may be in Granada if…you see this wherever you go.

The unwashed masses of Granada.

(The above picture is normally accompanied by a wafting weed smell.  Cig smoke may, however, be substituted from time to time.)  I’ve said it before, so I won’t dwell on it again for too long.  Granada, being the hippie capital of Europe, is home to all varieties of unwashed youths, hanging out with their dogs, doing nothing nothing with their lives (I was going to say something nicer, but…I chose honesty instead).  I think my biggest problem is that I just can’t understand why these people are here.  I mean, I guess self-expression and blah blah might have something to do with it, but it’s mostly just beyond me.  At least they don’t go around asking everyone for money like the Gypsies.

That’s all I have for now.  I hope you enjoyed a walk through the beautiful Granada!

Brain pain.

It's often said that as humans, we don't use more than 10% or our brains, or something like that.  Sometimes I believe it, and other times I know this is completely ridiculous.  Allow me to expand upon this idea.

First of all, idiots are everywhere.  Allow me to use some visual evidence.

Examples of people using 10% of their brain (courtesy of Failblog):

Completely unacceptable.

Creative...but, c'mon.  Seriously?

I don't know what's more ridiculous: that there are enough drivers are doing this that it's a headline, or that the TTC's solution is to tell people to stop taking pictures...rather than getting the drivers to stop texting.

There's lots of stupid to be had in the world.  I don't think this comes as a shock to anyone.  That being said, however, there are many times when I feel my brain heading into a state I call “over think.”

This typically happens for me under three circumstances: when trying to fall asleep, after sending a potentially anger-inducing text message/email to a friend, and when under pressure to accomplish something in a short amount of time.

I think we can all relate to the first of these.  Thankfully this isn’t every night, but it’s not uncommon for me to be lying in bed with the lights off, saucer-eyed, while every synapse in my brain is ablaze pondering every possible outcome to every possible situation to every circumstance that has happened, is happening, or will happen in my life.  “I sure had fun this weekend with so-and-so, I wonder when we’ll hang out again, am I going to have time this week?  What am I doing this week?  Shoot!  Did I plan lessons for tomorrow?  What classes do I have tomorrow?  What time it?  What day is it?  Did I brush my teeth?  It’s so cold in here.  At least it’s warmer than in Paris.  I wonder what the weather’s like in Paris?  I haven’t talked to Paula in a while. I wonder what she’s doing.  Shoot!  I was supposed to talk to her today.  I wonder if she wants to go to Amsterdam in a few weeks…” ad infinitum. 

That is only a very brief excerpt, believe you me.

The second (and worst) happens when I decide to go out on a limb with a friend.  Usually it’s someone I don’t know extremely well, but am just beginning a friendship with.  It’s at the point where you’re starting to joke around more, becoming more comfortable with the person, but you still can’t quite be 100% your true self because, let’s face it, you’re a little weird.  (Well, this mostly applies to myself; I can’t speak for everyone reading this.)  I’m maybe emailing or texting back and forth with someone, and I decide to get a little punchy/sarcastic in a message.

In my brain, the chance this individual will get pissed off because of this message increases exponentially over time:

• 5 minutes: “Meh, s/he’ll probably think it’s funny." 
• 30 minutes: “Hmm.  ::rereads message::  Should I have said, ‘might,’ instead of ‘may be'?  Oh well they’ll get it.  I wonder why they haven’t responded though…”
• 2 hours: “Crap, I hope I didn’t stick my foot in my mouth."  ::Rereads message again::  "No no, it’ll be fine.  They’ll text back really soon.”
• 6 hours: “OOOMMMGGGGGG!  Why am I such an IDIOT!"  ::Franticly reread message::  "S/he is sssoooo pissed.  Good thing I have other friends.”

Of course 99% of the time this is all rubbish.  Chances are that the next time I talk to this person, if I reference the text message, I’ll be met with a blank stare of incomprehension, followed by, “oh yeah, haha, what did that even mean?”  Or, on the rare occasion I’ve made the intent of my message known, I’ll normally be met with a, “it’s fine,” or, “of course I’m not angry.”  Phew.

The third type of “over think” normally occurs when I’m working on lesson plans for the next hour/day (usually sometime in the very present future).  This is the most distracting of the three, as I’m usually using the Internet for my lesson creating, and the Internet, let it be said, is nothing if not a procrastinator's drug of choice.  My brain normally darts between lesson planning, skype-chatting, gchatting, facebook chatting, facebooking, emailing, lesson planning, weekend trip planning, reading the news headlines, getting a new email, lesson planning, and talking to anyone in my immediate vicinity.  My newest technique to combat this is to have a blank piece of paper nearby on which I can write down all the fleeting thoughts that pass through my consciousness.  Having a nice To Do list is great.  Not that I necessarily get everything done, but at least I can focus on the task at hand and leave those stray thoughts trapped, immobile, on a piece of paper.

While still a work in progress, I've made great progress in all three aspects of my condition.  If you're a fellow "over think" sufferer, take heart!  There is hope for you too!