Just My Camera and I

Just woke up from a leisurely nap in Retiro Park in MAdird. Now it`s time to be productive. As of yesterday afternoon when I finished my last exam, "productive" means reminiscing about my adventures with a pen, not studying or working on projects. Que bien, no?!

Well I didn`t waste any time in leaving town after my exams. I flew out of Valencia at 8am this morning, like I said, the day after my last exam. I should mention, though, that when I woke up yesterday morning I wasn`t even sure I was going to be able to take my economics test before leaving town. Last semester I would have worried that I would fail the class without having taken the exam. This semester I just sort of wondered. The whole story is that the professor had told us a while back that we exchange students could take the test at the beginning of June (instead of June 27th) if we were leaving Valencia before then. Naturally I went home immediately and booked a trip for the 9th. Then I couldn`t get a hold of her to find out when the early exam would be, and trust me, I tried. On my last day in Valencia (ignoring the fact that I´ll be returning for a few short days on the 18th because who wants to study while traveling), I managed to physically track her down and got her to give me the exam that day. Dominated it and Done.

So anyway...back to the good stuff. Today is again a brief stop-over in Madrid, my third. My plane arrived at 9am, I checked my backpack at the airport, headed into the center, and I will return for my 9pm flight to Porto, Portugal in a couple of hours.

My bff (best friend forever in middle school chat lingo) Amy decided to come visit and do some travelling with me in Portugal. We planned to meet in Madrid for our flight out. However, a couple of days ago, we realized we had a slight hiccup with flight connections. She would get to Madrid AFTER our flight left for Portugal. Thus my personal day exploring Madrid alone. Amy will join me in Portugal tomorrow afternoon. The truth is I have highly enjoyed my day to myself. I haven`t been alone. My camera has accompanied me every step of the way, and we have seen quite some sights together.

I arrived this morning without any sort of plan, and enterred the metro at the airport without having glanced at a map of the city. I picked for my destination a metro stop that had three lines going through it, reasoning that it therefore contained something important. When I first stepped out of the metro not knowing what I`d find I thought I had struck out, though still a nice-looking area. Luckily I stuck it out and found I had picked the stop closest to the Palacio Real (Royal Palace), arguably the most important monument in Madrid. My method had worked! I saved going into the palace for when Amy and I return after Portugal, but I did go into the cathedral next door and climb up into the dome for a spectacular view of the other monuments in the city, the surrounding mountains, and the inside courtyard of the Palacio Real.

After the cathedral I finally looked at a map and started walking toward the other side of the city center. My guidebook were postcards at street-side kiosks. I would find one I liked and ask how to get there, a very rewarding trick. It got me where I`m laying right now, on a grassy hill next to a good and fountain-filled pond, with the "Palacio de Cristal" (Glass Palace), forming the backdrop of the scene. I never would have found this interesting gem of a building inside the ENDLESS Retiro Park without the postcard search.

As always, I´ve taken a ridiculous number of pictures already (I`m worse when I don`t have someone to hurry me along). I only brought one photo memory card though for a 9 day trip (holds about 585 photos), so I`ll have to exercise some restraint (I know, sad, that 585 requires restraint). As my third "lay-over day" spent in Madrid, I am more convince than ever that it would be my #1 choice for living in Spain were I to ever return for a bit. This surprises me, but it is just so full of life. Even though it`s a bit touristy, it`s not overwhelmingly so like Barcelona. It just seems to create a cool international vibe. I could really see myself here.

I have delayed so much in writing because I wanted to write the entries in order, so once I missed one, they just piled up, but I`ve abandoned that, so from now on they`ll be out of order a bit.

My apologies for my absense! Preview of what`s to come this summer: Porto, Lisbon, Southern Portugal, Austrian Alps, Salzburg, Munich, Berlin, Krakow, Budapest, Prague, Rome. Can`t wait!!!

A Flash of Madrid

On the way back from Toledo, we planned for an afternoon bus layover in Madrid, my second afternoon spent there (the first was when I was in Spain 3 years ago during another train/bus layover).  I really only remembered the Prado and the park from the last time I was there, and remember thinking it was a pretty, well kept-city, but that was about it.  This time my impression was different.  It was a pretty, well-kept city with an energetic buzz of activity on street after street after street.  Granted we stayed in a pretty small radius (within a couple metro stops), but I couldn’t get over how active the city seemed. 

We revisited the Prado.  The fact that I was saying to myself, “seriously? not ANOTHER Goya, not ANOTHER El Greco, not ANOTHER Velázquez” is pretty incredible.  The one that made the biggest impression is Velázquez’ Las Meninas, not only because I had studied it the most (that’s always exciting), but because its fame is completely deserved.  It was exquisite. 

After the Prado we walked to the Plaza Mayor for lunch (pictures above).  After perusing the street-side stands for souvenirs, we spent our remaining time sitting in the Plaza Mayor, literally, on the ground right in the middle of the plaza.  The size of the plaza is hard to describe.  It’s massive, and the ground was COVERED with groups of people just chilling right there on the stones.  The periphery is dotted with restaurants down below and stacks of what appear to be mostly residences above, each with quaint shutters.   

As we descended into the metro on the way to the bus station after only a few hours in the city, I thought that I really must plan a real trip there.  

Toledo

The best thing about the bus systems in Europe is that planning ahead is never necessary (a good thing for the Spanish, since they struggle a bit with that concept anyway).  Wednesday night (February 25^th) I realized I didn’t have any plans for the weekend and suddenly remembered I had an open invitation to visit the Ohio girls I had met in my hostel who were studying in Toledo.  I asked Katie, another girl from Texas, if she wanted to go, we called the girls to assure they would be there, and Thursday we bought tickets for an overnight bus to Toledo (via Madrid) that left that night at 1am. 

We arrived in Madrid around 5:15 Friday morning and waited for the metro to open at 6 so we could go to the other bus station to buy a ticket to Toledo.  In general, our excursion relied completely on the help solicited of strangers.  They always understood our situation well and so we had a helpful system that went something like, Katie and I: “Where is such-and-such?”…Stranger: “Walk two blocks that way and then ask again.”  For the most part these strangers were both friendly and accurate, but unfortunately that Friday morning at 6 am in the underground world of Madrid after a sleepless night on a bus, we were sent on a wild goose chase in search of a non-existent train to Toledo that would be “much better than the bus.”  Several unnecessary metro tickets and a couple hours later, we found ourselves climbing aboard a bus with the words “Toledo Directo” in the windshield (our original plan).  Needless to say we both slept quite well on that final 45 minute leg of the journey.

Upon arrival in Toledo, we went directly to the “Casco.”  Literally meaning “helmet,” Casco is the name given to the walled portion of Toledo, the center, due to its position on a round mound surrounded by the river Tajo on almost three sides.  Finding our hostel was surprisingly easy given the maze of narrow crooked streets that defined the entirety of the Casco, the street of our hostel being perhaps the most crooked and the most narrow of them all. 

Unlike the city of Valencia, in which the “Christian” (I cringe to think it) Inquisition destroyed most remnants of previously thriving Muslim and Jewish cultures from the period of the kingdom of Al-Andalus (8^th-15^th centuries), in which the three cultures had lived peacefully and harmoniously under Islamic rule, Toledo is known for its preservation of the three cultures.  The architecture unmistakably tells the story of the “covivencia” (peaceful and functional co-living) of Christians, Muslims, and Jews, as well as their influences on each other, and the change of power through the years.  We saw a number of “church-mosques” that had been used as mosques at some points in history, and churches in others.  One in particular was called “Mosque of the Christ of the Light.”  Today, a clear line can be drawn inside that separates the church half from the mosque half.  The architecture of each part is completely distinct and corresponds unmistakably to its function.  However, each half contains certain elements of the other, a clear witness to the influence each culture’s architecture had on the other’s.  Most of the architecture in Toledo incorporates many “mozarabe” elements (adjective for Christians who lived in Muslim Al-Andalus, or in this case a style that mixes Christian and Islamic themes).  We also visited a synagogue that had windows that anyone would clearly identify as Islamic in style.  I was struck by the degree to which we subconsciously associate architectural styles with functions and cultures.  Although you all may not necessarily be able to list characteristics of mozárabe architecture, I guarantee if you were to walk into a church with “arcos de herradura,” (the type of arch used most frequently in Islamic architecture), you would be struck by their oddity. 

We were surprisingly able to accomplish nearly everything we had wanted to see and do on Friday due to the compactness of the city, including the many church-mosques just described, the famous El Greco painting “El Entierro del Condo de Orgaz” (El Greco lived in Toledo for a number of years), and exploring the city wall by climbing in and on it.  That left for Saturday only a semi-hokey tourist train ride around the city, the well-known Cathedral, and losing ourselves in the maze of the city.  For someone who considers herself to have exceptional way-finding skills and sense of direction, Toledo was humbling.

The “train” (really a series of carts on wheels that didn’t take too well to the cobblestone streets of the city center) carried us to the other side of the river, giving us a beautiful view of the Casco from afar, with the principle landmarks such as the cathedral, a beautiful gothic monastery we had toured, and a palace rising up above the rest of the town. 

That evening we toured the Cathedral, the MASSIVE Cathedral.  After several hours inside, we still hadn’t seen all we could have seen.  Katie was just as interested in the history of the Cathedral as I was, so we took the time to dissect and attempt to understand the Spanish guide we received (for some reason written with a very complex vocabulary).  Each chapel within the Cathedral offered something unique, and there was even a gallery of El Greco and Velasquez paintings, among others, and a museum of historical clerical vestments.  When it was time for the cathedral to close to visitors, a mass in a side chapel was beginning.  We stayed for the mass, which concluded with a large choir of young boys in red and white robes processing two by two through the main part of the cathedral, their pre-adolescent voices echoing off of the stones and filling the space.

Anecdote: Spanish Chaos

A friend of one of my roommates has a car here (a rarity for reasons you will soon see).  A simple hopping into the car to go to the mall the other night turned into a game of musical cars.  We arrived at the car (parked on the street) to find a second row of cars, bumper to bumper, completely blocking our row.  But no worries ("no pasa nada") "everyone leaves their parking breaks down."  Try to craft a mental image.  Each of the 4 of us braced ourselves behind a car in the double-parked row and pushed a little, then ran around to the next four cars in front of those to clear a bit more room for the first four cars to move.  Push.  Run around.  Check space.  Repeat.  After many repetitions and a bit of outside help we were able to shift the entire row of double parked cars to create just enough room to extract ours.  As we drove off, my roommate Lorelai casually commented to me "this is pretty normal here."

Classes

I have only four classes, compared to the normal load here of seven or eight.  The hardest will be my architecture studio, as I will be dealing with two foreign languages, Spanish and, much more unfamiliar to me, metrics.  I have labeled many dimensions in my room in centimeters and meters using chalk, string, and paper in order to accustom myself to the system.  

I am also taking Economy and Organization of Businesses (tailored for architecture students).  I understand the least in this class due to the type of vocabulary used, but I have the most friends in it (Spaniards) who have already been huge sources of help.  

Finally, my two favorite classes are Urban Landscape: Hand Drawing and French.  The drawing class consists of one 4.5-hour session per week of drawing in a beautiful spot in the historic city center (1 drawing/week).  How awesome is that?!

French I discovered online last night (taking three weeks to realize its existence due to the absolutely horrendous organization of the online system).  I walked into the class late, after being misled by an incorrect online listing...typical, to a professor's cheerful greeting rattled off in perfect French.  I smiled and said "Bonjour" back (the only word I had understood) and then readily replied "no" to perhaps the only French phrase I know ("parlez-vous Français?").  The class was interactive and exciting, mostly taught in French (accompanied by exaggerated gestures for our benefit), which gave all of the Spanish speakers in the class the same disadvantage I had in understanding.  It's amazing how much easier it is to understand French knowing Spanish.  It won't be as hard taking a foreign language in Spanish as it probably sounds.  I can't wait to learn more!

La Universidad

Funny how we say "study abroad" as if studying is the main objective.  To give an idea of my "school" experience so far, my enrollment in a couple classes has yet to be finalized and class started three weeks ago (well, actually three and a half, but my advisor convinced me not to attend the first couple of days on the grounds that "no one will be there anyway"), I switched one of my classes today, and I know a Spanish guy who is in my economy class and I still have not seen him there once.  He promises me he will "try" to wake up for the next class.  Welcome to Spain.

Enforcement of attendance is obviously slightly lax to say the least, but there is also a reason they have a one and a half month exam period.  I just witnessed my roommates taking their exams for their fall classes, and I kept wondering why they do this to themselves.  If they would just study little by little throughout the semester, they wouldn't lose three months of their lives every year (but this is the overly-logical, unnecessarily hard-working American in me talking).

As for the Universidad Politécnica de Valencia, I love it.  The campus is big for Europe but definitely not when compared to UT.  I have asked countless students what the total enrollment is, and so far no one has been able to even give me a ballpark!  There is a much stronger identity with individual school than the university as a whole.  The architecture school has around 2,000 students (all undergrad)!!  That is about SIX TIMES the size of UT's School of Architecture.  

The campus is vibrant, with cafes spilling out into the common outdoor areas, teaming with students and professors drinking café and cerveza at all hours of the day.  One long green space runs the length of the campus, flanked on either side by academic buildings, athletic facilities, student services buildings, and many other convenient services such as a hair salon, book store, school supply store, copy center, and photo center.  Palm trees define the experience, announcing clearly that the Mediterranean is near (a 5-10 minutes tram ride in fact).  

The school has a huge number of study abroad students, but between all the foreigners I've met, only one has been from the states.  Almost all are from Europe: Italy, France, Germany, Poland, Bulgaria.  It seems like nearly every other day I add a country to the list.  All of the students from the US are studying at the other major university in Valencia, including the other three students here from UT.  I obviously made the right choice.

Mi Casa

When I met my roommates for the first time, I loved them, Silvia ("Javita"), another Silvia ("Lorelai"), Teresa, and Lola (our cat).  Well I didn't like Lola at first actually but she has won me over with her affections.  The photo above is not staged; I was working quietly on my computer and she hopped onto my lap and then climbed up to give me a hug, now a quite frequent occurance.  

All three girls are from smaller towns in the nearby province of Alicante, about an hour away.  Two speak no English and one can speak a little.  Two study law and one marketing, and all are very bright and well-informed.  Already our political discussions have stretched me, in addition to frustrating me a bit as my points must be communicated in Spanish or lost entirely, usually leaving the US in the terrible light in which they have cast it.  

On the day I came to meet them and see the apartment, the four of us sat in the living room and they all looked eagerly at me, wanting to know all about me.  It was the only apartment I visited where I felt I was being considered as a potential friend, not just the person who was going to reduce the rent payments.  The location was ideal, right next to the Plaza Xúquer (pronounced "Sú-ker"), a vibrant area full of students, bars, restaurants, and cafes, well-connected to the rest of the city, and a mere seven minute walk from the university.  There was only one thing causing me to hesitate-they all smoked, like chimneys, and inside.  They were very open about their lack of consideration for non-smokers on my first visit, which I appreciated, though the apartment's smell would have given their secret away regardless.  This worried me, but in the end I liked them and the location too much to pass up.  I couldn't be happier with my decision.

Main street off of which I live

My street, Calle Poeta Artola  (my door is the second overhang on the right)