Last Day of the Month

Its the last day of the month so I guess I'm going to do some self-reflecting.

It's been great to leave home and travel. By coming to Europe (Spain) I've had a lot of fun, but at the same time I feel like I'm ready to go home.

The system here is so different and I have yet to get accustomed to it. I hate the fact that my Spanish is kinda looked down upon because I have a neutral accent. I don't have a lisp and people here fixate on that, if they only knew that back home the same would happen to them. The egotistical Spaniards think that their way of life is so superior to that of Latin America and even the United States. Yet the biggest or funniest contradiction is that they themselves are moving to be more like the United States. By emulating another country's customs deteriorates from your own social and ethnic difference and makes you a hypocrite.

I'm already tired of the Southern Part of Spain.

The great thing about the experience of traveling abroad has been the ability to learn about another place or actually familiarize myself with the area. No fuck it, I really do hate the southern part of Spain. I really am bi-polar right now.

Damn the month of September has come and gone. Kinda happy about it. Next month...more traveling!

Chronicles of Conchi

Volume III

Conchi went to the botellon this past weekend. I didn't know of this before I left... She said she tried looking for me. She didn't come home until 9 am. She put out everything for my Spaniard breakfast and went to bed.

Morocco--As a Reality

I went to Morocco, so that means I've been on the Continent of Africa.

Morocco is a beautiful country surrounded by poverty. Not sure if the trip was as great as anyone had made it seem but at least I didnt have to travel by myself to this part of the world.

I was scared in Morocco ...not because of Islamic terrorism or safety, I was scared because I look muslim! 5 different vendors came up to me and asked me if I was Arab, or Muslim? I told them politely, no, 'I'm from El Salvador.' Then they would leave me alone. I found Lucy and told her to make sure I was on every boat, bus, and ferry ride until we got back to Granada. I clinched on to my passport EVERYWHERE!

First day we got to Ceuta (A Spain city in Morocco), then headed over to the hotel. It was a long day of traveling but exciting.

Saturday, we got breakfast and headed over to the Medina. If you have ever been to a market in Latin America you can figure out what a Medina is, and you've experienced it. It was a long walk through it, and you got to see everything, from chickens with their heads being cut off, to a donkey, to a shark. It really made me appreciate grocery stores back home!

Sunday, was our trip to Chef-Chaouen. I think this was the best part of the whole trip. It had the best views, less people, and most of all free time.

All in all it was a great time... I'm dead tired from the trip still. Waiting for the next adventure. It looks like it will be Italy! Planning the trip soon.

Chronicles of Conchi

Volumne II

Conchi keeps on giving me little anecdotes of what this one kid that stayed with her did. This is like her "What not to do Guide"

-Andres is a cute boy, he just doesnt have manners, he never said 'Good Morning,' NOR 'Good Night'

-Andres is a cute boy, he NEVER WASHED HIS HANDS. You would think for being so cute that he would.

-Andres is a cute boy, he left for Egypt one weekend and told me he was coming back Monday. He didn't back for a whole week. I was dying from the anguish of not know where he was... he then said, "I told you I was coming back THE FOLLOWING MONDAY."
Conchi: PEOPLE CALL! COñO! I would.

-Andres never turned off the lights, doesn't he know I pay for the electricity?!

This gives me a nonchalant way of knowing how to act in her house. This lady is passive-aggressive but she is hilarious. Sometimes these anecdotes dont make much sense or they don't coincide, I think she pulls them out off her ass.

Something tells me Andres doesn't exist. She just makes them up.

WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GOLD!

No lie, where the fuck is the gold? I've been on a mission to find the gold. Not much about Granada has impressed me. Of course they have La Alhambra, the Albaicin, the Muslim heritage, etc. But Spain has stolen something and they don't acknowledge it: the gold! I expected to see a motherf-ing building made out of SOLID GOLD!

WHERE IS IT?

My teacher for Culture of Spain keeps on repeating the same phrase over and over. SPAIN IS BROKE?! Is it really? Where is all of the gold you stole from the Latin American Indigenous people!?!? No one can ever tell me Spain is broke, have you seen your children in the other hemisphere?

'Stan locos!

Morocco, as planned

This was my email to Rocio and Annette. I have yet to receive a response from them. But this is what will be my weekend. Can't wait for Friday.

-Email-
Im not going to complain! Im going to Morocco this weekend! THANK GOD for 3 day weekends!

Im going to include the Planned Itinerary just for kicks. LOVE YOU GUYS!

Friday
Departure to Algeciras/Gibraltar
Arrival at Algeciras and board ferry
Arrival at Ceuta (City of Spain in Moroccos)
Departure to Morocco (Tetuan)
Arrival at Hotel
Dinner
Free time to rest (Clubbing and Shopping!)

Saturday
8am Breakfast
9am Departure to visit the ancient city of Medina de Tetuan
Shopping in Tetuan followed by a typical lunch in the Medina
Departure for Tanger
Panoramic tour of Tanger and Cabo Espartel
Free time
Arrival at the hotel
Dinner
Free time to rest (Clubbing and Shopping!!)

Sunday
7am Breakfast
8am Departure to Chef-Chaouen
Arrival and guided tour of Chef0Chaouen
Free time
Lunch
Departure for Ceuta
Arrival at Ceuta and Boarding
Arrival at Algeciras/Gibraltar
Return point home!

Missing you guys!

CHRONICLES OF CONCHI

I lucked out.
The Chronicles of Conchi are just things that happen with my Señora. She sometimes goes on rant or has conversations with me that kinda scare me. lol Just take a look at these: I'll write more of my experiences with her as soon as they come up.

Feeding you some fish

Frank: Under my breath: Man, I miss sushi.
Conchi: Fish? I thought you didn’t like fish.
F: Oh, I don’t, but sushi is a different kind of way to eat fish.
C: Really?
F: Yeah, I don’t like fish; I put that on my application when I applied to Granada.
C: Oh, I know. I read it. But secretly, I’ve been feeding you fish for the past two weeks.
F: ::Silently trying to remember all foods::
C: You put it down, but I didn’t care I feed you what I want.
F: What if I was allergic?
C: Oh, I went around that, the first time I fed you fish I only put in a little bit. If you didn’t react negatively to it, I knew you weren’t allergic.
F: ::looking in amazement::

Champion

My Sra. only eats breakfast and Lunch, no dinners. Breakfast consists of toast and jam (that’s how Spain does breakfast) and coffee. Lunches are huge foods consisting of three courses. She eats then. Like almost out of the gate she starts scoffing down her food. I just try to chew all 32 times. When she is almost finished she looks up at me and my food, snarls and gets fully concentrated again. She finishes.

When she finishes she drops her utensil and starts screaming in her indoor voice: CHAMPION! CHAMPION! Putting her hands up as she has just won an Olympic Gold Medal. She then starts with the stadium noises: Yeah!!! Conchi!!! Champion! She then follows this by picking up her dog, putting him on her lap. She grabs his paws puts them in the air and starts screaming again, CHAMPIONS! CHAMPIONS, AHHHH!!! YEAH!!! (Stadium voice)

Bored?

What is boredom? I have never been bored in life. Scratch your ass you say? Then get a job! I have never had time to be bored! …You? ::No answer::

Alpujarras--Nature whooped my ass!

I climbed a mountain!

For all you non-believers, yes I did climb a mountain! So far our tuition has paid for this: An excursion of the city of Granada: Alhambra, Albaicin, Cathedral, candlelit dinner next to the Cathedral, the first Hostal, a flamenco performance, and now a trip to the Sierra Nevada! Man I wish U of I actually did something like this back home.

We went up to the Alpujarras got off the bus and went straight to a lodge were we got prepped on the hike. This is the hike, in total 7 hours! We went to the next town, I swear I have never walked so much and in such an incline, crossing trees, narrow paths, cow dung, and small streams. Once we reached the next town we stopped at the plaza for a small breather. They fed us chocolate to keep our strength up.

Then we started our climb up to the next town. Once again we crossed trees, narrow paths, poison ivy, and other natural shit. I was getting tired, hungry, and cranky from so much climbing. I took in the scenery ever so often when we stopped or was given a history lesson of the mountain.

It's scenic and wonderful. I never want to do it again.

Blake, the Pot-smoking, philosopher

What is there to say about Blake, he was just one big pothead. He was an illegal resident of Spain. He left Madison after college cause he wanted a change. He came to Spain for 3 months to travel and decided to stay. “After 3 years, you obtain legal residency.”

He worked in a Hostal in Granada (turns out the same one we stayed at the first week—Hostal Atenas) and then realized he was doing all of the work and for no pay. So he got out and started his own in a friends house. Now he did all the work but was getting paid for it. What did he do with this money? Smoked pot all day of course. Oh the luxuries of life, he had it set.

The best quote from Blake: “ Cardinal directions: (West) Old person there, (East) Old person there, (North: Patio) Cigarettes outside, (South: House) Weed in!”

Costa del Sol--Nerja

Nerja started off with a bunch of the group just saying fuck it to the weather (its really hot here) and going to the beach. Since we only have four day work weeks, we left for the beach on a Friday. We got on a bus and headed towards Nerja. It was a short 2 hr ride that actually could have been 45 minutes if it wasn’t for a greyhound-esc trip. Once we arrive at Nerja I was designated the trips spokesperson and called the Hostal. To my surprise the damn Hostal receptionist switched from a Spanish accent (a local accent) over to an English accent. The guy had a California accent! He told me he would come and get us in two minutes so stay by the plaza. When he arrived the guy was a 6’ 4” blonde dude straight out of Madison, Wisconsin!

Blake ended up taking us back to the Hostal, once again we were in for a surprise. It turned out that the Hostal was really this guys friends house, whose place, Blake uses as a Hostal. It was a nice house! Surprise no. 3—Hostal.com overbooked us! There were 9 beds and 18 of us… So Blake proceeded to tell us how it all would work out. 3 Guys would have to sleep outside in the terrace; literally it would be a hammock and a mattress on the floor. All the girls would share a bed, 2 per bed. One would sleep outside in the patio where the laundry was done; somehow there was a makeshift bed on top of the washer. And three lucky guys would have the luck of getting their own beds. After that was done, he gave us the grand tour. It concluded 2 minutes later and with the look at the two wonderful bathrooms, the one inside and the one outside. Rustically placed under the stairs that led to the terrace, it was literally a hose with showerhead, no hot water, what a luxury! The trip, Blake, and the room assignments were just too much excitement for one afternoon.

Time to relax. We headed towards the beach. Man the site of the beach and the smell of the salty air was enough to forget the Hostal. We took in the sun and got in the water for 6 hrs. The best quote that came out of the group was “Can you believe we’re in Spain, in Costa del Sol, and everyone back home is probably walking to class!”

Dinner was exceptional! We went by downtown and we sat in a restaurant owned and operated by British women. It was called the Californian; I don’t think anyone figured out meaning. I ordered a bacon burger, (I hadn’t had meat in a while and I was dreaming of a burger). The scenery because even better, we were looking at the ocean from our seats! We sat on a cliff. After dinner we went back to the Hostal got ourselves some wine (it only cost .85 centimos). We each had our own bottle and we just drank, and drank. Finally around midnight we got up and went to the “secret beach” Blake told us about when we returned. We followed his advice and landed in a secluded beach with huge rocks to our east, west and south! We drank some more and had a great time!

Saturday was repeated almost in the same sequence. It was a just the best weekend.

Flamenco—The Mysticism that is Flamenco.

I had always known that Spain is famous for its bullfights and flamenco. Never seeing a flamenco experience the school took us up to the Sacromonte to see it. When we reached the highest point I bought myself a beer cause of was dying from the exhaustion of once again hiking up to the top of a mountain. The performance started and I was just entranced. I didn’t realized how beautiful the music is and how influenced it is by Muslim folklore. The best thing of the performance is the ambiance. A clear night, at the top of the mountain, away from the city; the moon and stars giving the light for the stage, clearly el Sacromonte is a great place to be for a cultural dance.

Sacromonte

This area of the city is next to the Albaicin. The impressive part is that people inhabit this area as well and they live in caves. They have dug their homes into the caves, during the summer they don’t need air conditioning because its nice and cool. During the winter months, the heat from the earth heats their homes. Not spending on heat or air conditioning is awesome! Very ecological. These homes used to be considered slums but now they are sitting on a goldmine. Supposedly these homes used to be worth less than 3,000 euros, now are worth 1.2 million euros.

There are some old people up there that have realized how much their homes are worth and they go to a bank and ask for a loan. They put their homes as collateral and then dont pay for the loan. They walk away with almost 500,000 euros that they will not have to pay back. When they die, the bank takes the property.

Anyways, the Sacromonte also has two get assets the first is the Flamenco theater that sits at the very top and a series of bars and a Club that are nestled into some caves. This is also the first thing I heard about Granada. CLUB IN A CAVE!!!

Albaicin

The Albaicin is one of Granada’s hidden gems that is really not that hidden. It celebrates one of its most beautiful sceneries. It starts at the foot of La Alhambra and it houses the Mororish/Muslim population of the city. A strong Muslim population since almost the 8th century has inhabited it. It has the areas teterias, which are our hookah bars back home. The greatest thing is that the aroma from the hookahs and natural teas is authentically being in a different part of the world.

I had the pleasure, once again of climbing, the city of Granada to end up by the famous homes of the rich of Granada las Carmen are a type of large homes that have huge gardens in the middle. Almost like jungles these gardens are maintained by large quantities of water, goes to show what money will buy. Heading even higher, almost parallel height to La Alhambra. When we got to the top the sun was setting. The city began to light up and breath-taking views could be seen from at top of the city. One thing that I realized was that many of these houses and the way this part of the city looked like was the same architecture of many cities in Latin America. When I asked if this was a coincidence I was given this answer: “almost 70% of the people that left for the new world came from this region, of course these people would take their architecture with them, architecture based upon Roman, Spanish, and Muslim influences.” Lesson taught and learned. All together beautiful views of the cathedral, and the veins of lights that run down the Albaicin all over the city of Granada.

Club Scene—Don’t stop til 7 in the morning!

It takes the cake. This is a typical night going clubbing. You leave your house around 11 pm and you go out with some friends to eat tapas. Tapas are free with every drink you buy. You stay at the restaurant from 12 or 1 am. Then you go to a park for a boteyon. A boteyon is just a drunk fest in a park. You bring your own drink or bring alcohol and drink together. This should last until about 3 or 4 in the morning. After this is when you hit the club. You go all night until sunrise, usually around 7 or 8 in the morning. Depending on if it’s the weekend or a regular night you do one of two things. If it is a weekend you go home have breakfast with your family, smelling like an ashtray, and then go to bed only to wake up around 2:30 for lunch. If it’s a weekday you go home have breakfast with your family, which consists of three pieces of bread with margarine or jam and a cup of coffee. Their cup of coffee is not what you think, in realitiy it’s an espresso shot with a cup of milk. Depending on how bad or good of a night you had you would get double or triple the shot of espresso. After you are finished take a bath and then go to work or school.

Partying in Spain is on a whole different level, and from what I hear this is the light version. Other countries start promptly at 9 pm and don’t stop until 7 in the morning—almost 10 hours of europop.

The clubs are also quite labish, there is no detail that is not looked at, from the frosted glasses to the pillows that are used to decorate the places. You know you are hitting a nice club when the line outside could be seen from any street and lights, veils, and music exaggerate the impressive facades. And not to talk about the girls out in all glory, the only thing is that they don’t dance as promiscuous as the “American girls.” You can always tell when there is a foreigner in a club…

Just to compare—In Champaign we would start pre-gaming at 8 pm or so, hit the bar or club at 10 or 11 and then be done by 2 am. If you were lucky you can go to the apartment or the HOUSE and have an afterset until 5 or 6 am. Oh to the good times, I guess its time to take it international and have a good time in Paris, London, or Granada!

La Alhambra

I first heard of La Alhambra in High School sitting in certain Spanish teacher that-shall-not-be-named’s class. I had a bitter taste in my mouth, and the bitterness didn’t go away. Miguel Angel made us climb La Alhambra early in the morning. It started off with a good natural incline and then it just exploded into a horrible 60-degree incline. I should have guessed it had to be hard it was a fort to defend against attacks. I think the phrase, “I left my ass back” there doesn’t begin to describe the feeling that I had climbing. By the time I had reached the half waypoint of the climb I had two thoughts. The first was that I was completely soaked in sweat from just 15 minutes of climbing and the second was that I hated Miguel Angel—a freaking bus passed us by and had the sign ALHAMBRA EXPRESS, I swear if I had enough energy I would have shanked someone. Unfortunate for us we still had to climb more. My Sra. also had something to say about this, check out the Chronicles of Conchi under La Alhambra.

When we finally got up the zenith our tour guides greeted us for the day; and we began our excursion through La Alhambra. Just a quick overview of what La Alhambra is, and why it’s so important. Back in 711 A.D. the Muslim world began to expand into Spain. Not yet a unified country, Spain was ruled by principalities and small kingdoms. The Muslims ruled most of the Peninsula, and La Alhambra was constructed as a separate city, fort and palace for the ruler. As the last strong hold, La Alhambra was seen as a source of power because of its splendor Isabella and Ferdinand converted it to their palace. Their grandson Charles V became the Holy Roman Empire and he too converted it to be his palace. Ok, now that I’ve boarded you to death with history back to the story.

The view from La Alhambra down into the city, following towns, and as the sun set it was spectacular.

Hostal Atenas-- Don't Sleep!

We arrived at Granada almost at 5:30 am Chicago time on Tuesday, August 26th. We landed in the International Airport of Granada. It was really just a runway with planes parked and people get off right on the runway; this is the first time I’ve ever done this, it was pretty awesome.

Baggage claim wasn’t so awesome. We waited 45 minutes for our luggage, and meanwhile a rent-a-cop security guard racially profiled me. For his taste, I was too dark to be there and asked to see my visa. I knew it was coming so I had my passport ready to show him my visa. He couldn’t say anything and walked away.

We finally met up with Miguel Angel the reason why the Granada program was started. He is an alumnus of the University of Illinois. He got his PhD in Linguistics from the University. We got our luggage, boarded the bus, and headed to the Hostal (motel); this would be our home for the next couple of days. I thought we would be staying in a shitty place…far from it. It was a great place in the center of the city. It had beautiful views and it was a great introduction to the city of Granada. The only downside to being at the Hostal was being told we couldn’t/shouldn’t sleep so that we could get accustomed to the time zone. So, what’s the next best thing when you are in new city? EXPLORE! We left the Hostal at 5 p.m. ate dinner right in front of the Cathedral, and then went out around the city. We went back to the Hostal got ready and went to the club, Discoteca Granada 10! This doesn’t get poppin’ ‘til 4 a.m.

Trip to Madrid- The shit job that was I

Sitting at the airport waiting for boarding seemed surreal. All summer I had been waiting for the day when I would be doing my travel to Spain.

I didn’t even start thinking of packing until the day before I left. I knew that I had to do something because how else would I get things to Spain. So I decided to go shopping. I went shopping for new shirts, boxers, and for the first time I set a budget. Who can guess how that went? Yeah, I went over. But just by a little bit! I had to buy a new camera to capture my trip abroad. So sue me.

Of course, like any good Latino male, I waited to ‘til that morning to pack. I sat looking at the clothes and I just wanted to sleep. I didn’t the night before. So instead of doing either, I went shopping—again. I had to buy a gift for my “host mom.” I went to buy books from Borders; I decided to buy her a book of Chicago’s architecture, cheap and easy. And like a good bullshitter, I gave her this meaning “I’m here to see your majestic city, and I would like you to see mine.” –I don’t think she bought it; but everyone I said it to loved it.

My sister dropped me off at the airport; she gave me a lecture, cried and dropped my ass off. She was gone before I was able to get all of my shit out of her car. Then this is when I realized that I would have a difficult time traveling. I had lug a huge book bag, my book bag, a roller and my laptop bag. I always pack lightly. This would also be a curse in the near future.

At the airport I met up with the group. I saw Evelyn (Poppet) and Analy. We went through security and on our way to getting lost in the terminal. When we finally got to gate 19G we met a German girl that was traveling from San Francisco to Munich, Germany. She had been traveling the U.S. for 2 months and had run out of money and time. She had an awesome story of traveling through the U.S. and sleeping in the Grand Canyon.

They began to board the plane. They started of with the last rows; guess who was the first to board? That’s right, U of I students and Madison. I did my last text messages under my 773-319-7606 number (I canceled my plan). Then we started to taxi the runway. This is when I revert to my early childhood stage of shitting my pants. The words of my mother start ringing in my head. NEVER travel by yourself; and never travel on a Tuesday (superstition says you’ll die). I was doing both. The greatest thing I could think of while taking off was that “great: I’m flying on a Tuesday and here starts our 8 hour flight to another continent, FME (Fuck My Existence).”

To recap, I was flying Iberia Flight 6538 non-stop to Madrid. Flying from O’Hare International 4:30 pm to Barajas International at 7:30 am. It’s a 7 hrs time difference. That equates to almost 24hrs of no sleeping for me. The best thing is that once in Madrid we had a 4-hour layover. But I have to say; the Airport at Madrid is really architecturally beautiful! The first European experiences were great. From flying across the Atlantic seeing the Big Dipper up-close to realizing we were flying over the Spanish countryside right when the sun was coming up was a great way to say WELCOME U of I to Europe!

The Edit

Posting soon:

Hostal Atenas Done
La Alhambra Done
Club Scene Done
Albaicin Done
Host Family In progress
Sacromento Done
Flamenco Done
Nerja In progress
Hostal Host at Nerja In progress
Classes Delete

and the most anticipated CHRONICLES OF CONCHI In progress

PLVS VLTRA

PLVS VLTRA

Plus Ultra
Plus Ultra (del latín que significa "Más allá") es un lema latino y el lema nacional de España. Fue Carlos I de España (también conocido como Carlos V del Sacro Imperio Romano), quien lo utilizó como su lema personal como expresión del dinamismo del nuevo imperio cosmopolita.