The "Study" in Study Abroad

From the content of my previous writing, you would hardly know that I am indeed going to school. Now, I am in the thick of the regular session of my semester. I am taking four classes, two business, two liberal arts. In my European Economy class we have so far been talking about the effects of World War II on Europe and the gradual progression of agreements that led to the formation of the European Union as it is today. My professor for that class likes to recommend movies to us and list off European cities for us to visit (Prague, Lisbon, Venice, and Berlin seem to be his top four outside of Spain). Similar to a Spanish professor I had last year in Madison, he also likes to  reference Pink Floyd and the occasional glass of whiskey, and those shared qualities strangely provide me with a sense of familiarity.  

My other business class is Operations, which is not exactly the most interesting topic but is necessary. My professor in that class is friendly and likes to engage students in discussion, so that helps the time pass by more quickly. Many professors here lecture through the hour-and-a-half class without asking one question of the students. That’s not really my style of learning, so it’s hard to not get a little sleepy during those classes.

My liberal arts classes deal with the semantics and lexicology of the Spanish language and the traditions of Andalucía. Semantics and Lexicology will definitely be my most demanding class, but it is a combination of studying the make ups of words and their histories. Talk about the perfect nerdy language/history combination for me! It’s a nice break from the numbers of business. My Andalucían culture class, which is titled, I kid you not, Arte and Fiesta, is a little slow at this point because we are reviewing the history of the Iberian Peninsula in order to better understand the region’s current traditions. I have already studied much of this information last year, so class has proved to be a bit boring so far.

The upside to this, of course, is that I have little homework for that class. I cannot complain too much about that. Another perk is that some days we take walking excursions through the old parts of the city to see first-hand examples of the history we are studying. That’s one of my favorite things about studying Spanish history in Sevilla. We don’t have to study from a book or a slideshow presentation—we can just step outside and see it with our own eyes. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

All in all, the semester has been such a welcome break from the way I operate back at UW, and I will keep that in mind when I go back. I’ll be around for a couple more years, but I will be better able to balance myself and keep in mind what my time priorities really are. Going back in the fall will probably be quite the rude awakening, but I’ll enjoy my surreal experience while it lasts.

Lagos, Portugal

Today started off with waking up very early to catch a bus to Portugal for the four-day weekend (Fridays I never have class; Monday is Día de Andalucía, so again I have no class). Annie and I set off for Lagos for a day before we move north to Lisbon for the remainder of our mini-vacation. When I wasn’t dozing off during the bus ride, I stared out into the countryside of Portugal. The hills are dotted with little white towns and orange groves. It is so gorgeous here. I can feel myself starting to fall in love with yet another region here—will it ever end?

Right before the bus crossed the border into Portugal, we were halted by the Guardia Civil, Spain’s law enforcement agency charged with police duties among civilian populations on a national level. Several members armed with assault rifles were stopping every vehicle intending to cross the Portuguese-Spanish border. One officer came onto the bus, walked through twice, and then let us pass. A woman sitting near me on the bus told others that this was not at all normal procedure, that they were mostly searching for someone. I tried to find news on the internet about it but was unsuccessful.

Map zoomed in on area including Sevilla, Lagos, and Lisbon.  
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Actually passing through Portugal’s border control was much easier. While boarding the bus this morning, everyone was told that they must put all bags except small purses in the luggage area under the bus so as not to cause a hold-up at the border. This was pretty much unnecessary because, after the bus driver waited about three seconds for Portuguese officials to check out the bus, we were waved on and sped off down the highway once again. I have to say that the EU definitely works in my favor for travel to multiple countries. It is so simple to not have to deal with money exchange and strict customs. The only downside is that I am missing out on some pretty cool stamps in my passport. Shucks.

Once we were in Lagos, we took an inexpensive taxi ride to our hostel, Dina’s Guesthouse. Dina (I’m just assuming she named the place for herself, but maybe not) speaks very little English but provides a cozy, clean place complete with computer, kitchen, and really fast WIFI. The guesthouse is only a couple of rooms, and the door downstairs is unmanned by any staff.

Before setting out for lunch and the beach today, I thought it would be a good idea for Annie to test out opening the door with the key while I stayed inside just in case we did something wrong and could not get in later. Annie was struggling with it, so we traded places. As I attempted to lock and then unlock the door, I somehow ended up locking Annie inside of the hostel. For some reason she couldn’t even open the door from the inside because the handle was stuck, while at the same time I could neither turn the key left nor right no matter how hard I tried. Annie was stuck inside for about five minutes as I continued to fumble with the key. Finally, I figured out that I had to pull the door really hard toward myself while simultaneously fitting the key not quite completely into the lock, then turning it and pushing the door open. It's quite the apparatus. 

With Annie free and the key/lock situation figured out, we set off for some lunch. While dining we met a friendly old British couple that took a picture of the two of us on Annie’s camera. Lagos is heavily geared toward British tourists who flood the place during the holiday season (British vacation time during warm weather, that is), so there are quite a few Brits around. The plus side to this is that English is widely spoken, so we haven’t stumble too much through communication. The English couple chatted with us for a while about our travels here and their travels in the States. The husband mentioned that he had visited an old friend in Massachusetts some years back who had been a GI in the war. That was about as far as our conversation went, though, before the couple moved on with the rest of their day. Now, I’m thinking that “The War” means WWII, and I can feel your disappointment in me already, Dad. Yes, I am absolutely kicking myself that I did not inquire into this further. The man is probably full of some amazing stories, and to be frank, not many from his generation are left to tell their histories. Next time I promise not to be so daft.

After lunch Annie and I hit up a supermarket for yet another poor-students’ breakfast. What I discovered is that supermarkets in Portugal have WAY better selection, especially pertaining to cereal, than those in Spain. I am not sure if this disparity is a localized Lagos thing heavily influenced by the tourism, or if Honey Nut Cheerios really can be found in all parts of the country. Either way I’m super jealous. Corn Flakes are so not cutting it in Sevilla. Then, we laid out on the beach listening to the Atlantic waves and soaking up some sun. It was barely warm enough to do so, but that didn’t stop me from being a beach bum in February. 

When the breeze really picked up, we decided to trek along the cliffs above the beaches in Lagos. When we'd had our fill of sand and stone, we headed back to the guesthouse before grabbing dinner at a local family restaurant named Os Lambertos. We split a tray of garlic-baked shrimp and a dish of Portuguese steak, both of which were insanely delicious. Topped off with some vinho verde, characteristic Portuguese white wine, it was the perfect meal to end our day.

Tomorrow we set off for Lisbon, but probably not before some café and pastry. I’ve been running during the week, and I walk everywhere, but the weekends are sort of anything-goes as far as trying local cuisine is concerned. You’ll be able to view my new reality TV show on TLC, The 900-Pound Study Abroad Student, early this June.

I've Been Blessed

When I walk to and from class in Madison, I am usually on the phone with my mom or other members of my family. During my freshman year of college, I never talked on my cell phone while walking on campus because everyone else did so, and I thought it was super annoying. Despite this, I have somehow morphed into one of those with their hands seemingly glued to their ears. I did not realize how much of a habit this had become over the past semester until I started classes in Sevilla.  Here, though, I no longer have the luxury of calling anyone, let alone anyone in the States, as it is much more expensive on the pay-as-you-go system than with my plan back home. So, on my twenty-five-minute walks to or from my classes I must occupy myself in another manner.

Usually, I am doing one of two things. If no one is within a half of a block of me, I am singing. What? I miss my shower/car/house-cleaning jam sessions. If people are close enough that I could potentially offend them with my musical un-talents, I am just letting thoughts run through my head. Recently, my mind has been turning to the same theme over and over again: the people who surround me back home.

The people to whom I am referring are not necessarily those who are physically near me in Madison or Hudson. In fact, quite a few are not, but all of these people are the ones who have given me the most support, encouragement, love, and laughter over the years. Whether they are family members, friends, or role models, I have always been blessed to have a multitude of good, caring people in my life.

I am constantly grateful for this. My life is beautiful, and I know that I am fortunate. So many people do not have anything close to the support network that I have, and I have taken great care to maintain the good relationships that others have formed with me. I have always been thankful for this, but while I am here I am extra-appreciative, most likely due to the very real physical distance that separates me from them. Hopping into a car or onto a bus to visit someone is no longer an option.

I miss so many of you very much. Sometimes I think I am crazy for leaving all of that behind, but then I remember that it is only temporary and that, hello! I am in Spain. I am not foolish enough to waste my time here. Europe provides plenty to learn and infinite places to explore, and I am taking advantage of that every day. I'll probably be whining about how much I miss it as soon as I get back! God has blessed me with this opportunity just as I have been blessed with so much love in my short lifetime. Do not worry—I am not homesick per say, and I am loving almost every minute of Spain. Just know that I have a special place in my heart for those back home. I will always keep a place in my heart for you.

Flat Emily

You may have noticed something peculiar in select pictures I have posted on Facebook over the past month. A paper cutout of a brown-haired girl in a purple and black dress continues to make guest appearances. This girl is Flat Emily, the two-dimensional version of my roommate and one of my best friends back in Madison.

Both Colleen (the third roommate in our house) and I are abroad for the semester, leaving Emily in Madison while we are in Ecuador and Spain, respectively. I wanted to take the real Emily with me in my suitcase, but there were some health concerns about breathing, etc. on the flight over. So, I made a Flat Emily to bring to Europe with me in order to be able to document for the real Emily all of the places I would have taken her to see and the things we would have done together. 

If you have never heard of the children’s book Flat Stanley, the gist of the story is that Stanley, a young boy, becomes flat one night when his bulletin board falls and crushes him in his bed. Stanley is then able to go visit his friend who had moved to California because his parents can mail him, thus being able to afford the transport that would have been too expensive by plane. When I was in second grade, each of us in Mrs. Cari's class made a Flat Me to send to whomever we liked. The recipient then sent back photos of the Flat Me in action along with the original Flat Me. (If you were lucky, you got a beanie baby or other gifts, too. There were a lot of popular grandmas after this project.) This whole process served as the inspiration for Flat Emily.

So far, Flat Emily has hung out with me in the city, visited Roman ruins at Itálica just outside of Sevilla, and spent the weekend in Jerez de la Frontera with Annie and me. She is a bit wrinkled at this point from constantly being folded to fit into my messenger bag, but she is still intact. Each time I transport Flat Emily somewhere new to take pictures, I inevitably get some strange looks when I pull her out of my bag. Most people think it is adorable, though, and I am more than willing to endure some stares to document Flat Emily’s adventures. This weekend she will be traveling to Cádiz on the coast with the rest of the business study abroad students. She will be quite well-traveled by the time my semester here ends.

Flat Emily and me in front of la Catedral in Sevilla

Flat Emily enjoying lunch on the Plaza Arenal in Jerez de la Frontera

Jerez de la Frontera

This past weekend Annie and I had tentatively planned to go to Madrid. With our intensive sessions drawing to a close and other activities popping up, we never got around to booking anything. So, on Friday night we made the last minute decision to spend the weekend in Jerez de la Frontera, south of Sevilla about an hour by train and closer to the coast. As it turns out, this was one of the best last-minute decisions I ever made. As soon as I exited the train station on Saturday morning, I just had this feeling that the atmosphere was catered exactly to my tastes.

Before we began exploring, Annie and I stopping in at a small cafetería to, you guessed it, drink café and map out our day. Before we had even unfolded our map all the way, the manager stopped by our table and asked what we were looking for. We said that we didn’t really know and asked for suggestions. For the next half hour or so he chatted with us, pointing out things to do and see, checking opening hours of local attractions, and asking us about ourselves while his sons wove a soccer ball through the maze of tables. His wife recommended restaurants to us for dinner, and one of the young sons corrected our spelling when we didn’t quite get the names of those restaurants right. We had not expected such a warm welcome, and it was the perfect start to our day.

I love Sevilla more every day that I explore it, but there was something about Jerez that immediately captured me. It is more laid back, quieter, but still gorgeous. This past Saturday people were strolling through the streets of the old town, popping in and out of shops and gathering with friends for tapas in the main plaza. Little children and their parents surrounded the plaza’s  petunia-encircled fountain to enjoy the sunshine and blue sky. In a non-descript, teenage-girl phrase, Jerez was so me. Annie and I spent the whole day wandering around the city taking photographs and visiting a bodega, a requisite in a town that is famous for its sherry production.

This weekend was my first time riding on a European train and my first stay in a hostel. The train to Jerez was only a bit more expensive than taking the bus but was totally worth it considering that we live kitty-corner from the main train station in Sevilla. We literally walk a few minutes from our door to the platform. The train ride was smooth and took less than an hour. Our hostel was just a few blocks from the train and bus stations, and we were able to stay in a clean double room with our own bathroom for 15€ each. I was certainly glad that I had brought my ear plus, though. Nothing about a hostel in a city is quiet.

This weekend was also my first time exasperating a Spanish grocery clerk. Annie and I ducked into a grocery store Saturday evening to buy cheap breakfast for Sunday morning. Think bananas, strawberries, cereal bars (for me), and dinosaur crackers (for Annie, and she highly recommends them). I was unaware that the protocol for buying fruit in that store was that it should be weighed on a scale and then its special code should be selected to calculate the price, which is then printed out onto a sticker. The clerk told me how to do it, and I accidentally pressed code “28” instead of “38”, so my sticker came out as “manzana” (apple) instead of “banana”...oops! When I tried again with the correct code, something else wasn’t working, so I had to ask for more help. The poor woman stormed over to the scale with the banana, worked her magic, and finished ringing up my food. Ignorant American stereotype fulfilled.

Other than that minor mishap, our weekend in Jerez was one of the most relaxing and peaceful two days I have ever spent. We hope to have time for at least one more day trip there before the end of the semester.

Staples

Upon arriving at my home stay two weeks ago, I was lacking some basics like shampoo, soap, a hair dryer, paper, a water bottle, etc., so Annie and I headed to El Corte Inglés, the department store that has everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. This place is a combination of Super Target, Macy's, Home Depot, and your local furniture store on steroids. With seven floors of merchandise, you can buy asparagus, a Burberry scarf, and a mountain bike all in one stop. You pay extra for the convenience, but at that point I really could not have cared less. It was close to the apartment, and I just wanted to be able to shower properly.

Needless to say, your first El Corte Inglés experience can be a bit overwhelming. Finding what you need is a bit of an adventure. The last thing on my list that I finally found was a mini stapler for on-the-go assembly of essays and whatnot. I found a tiny green one, grabbed a package of staples, and was on my merry way. Once back in my room about to staple a paper together, I ran into a slight issue. The staples I had bought were much too wide to fit into the stapler slot. Huh?

I thought, "What gives? How are the staples too big?" It turns out that staples here come in a variety of sizes in accordance with different sizes of staplers, and I had not chosen correctly. I also had no idea what size I needed because I had thrown the stapler packaging away. So, I had to return to El Corte Inglés the next day to find the corresponding staple code on the stapler packaging and then buy the correct size of staples. The mini stapler was nowhere to be found, so I tried to explain my dilemma to a sales clerk. She understood me fairly well, but before she could help me, a man nearby chimed in and started to explain to me that the sizes of staples varied and that I needed to know what kind of stapler I had. Yes, yes, I know…but he didn't let me get a word in edgewise and just repeated himself like I did not understand. 

Finally the sales clerk jumped in and took me over to find what I needed. I scampered after her but thanked the man because, after all, he had only been trying to help me out. I appreciated the gesture. The sales clerk and I found the right kind of staples, and upon returning to the apartment I triumphantly fit the mini staples into the mini stapler and stapled the pages of my essay together. I have never been so grateful for standardization back home.