Dessert Heaven

For those of you that know me, you know my middle name is “Dessert Aficionada.” From cakes to candies, cookies to chocolates, you name it, I love it. But the quickest way to my heart is a bowl of Ice Cream – any flavor, preferably cookie dough, will do.

I’m glad to report that I feel right at home with the various bakeries strategically located in the streets and alleyways of Sevilla.  Step into any one, and you’ll be greeted by countless breads, tarts, pies, doughnuts and other Spanish delicacies. Made with simple ingredients (fruits, nuts and grains), the Sevillanos have a great talent for presenting their treats in the most exquisite manner.  I literally gawk at the desserts for a good five minutes – drooling with mouth wide open – before I select my indulgence for the day.  If it were up to me, I’d order one of everything, EVERYDAY...unfortunately, that would mean giving up a trip to Florence or Prague.

My roommate and I ventured out for a late afternoon walk today with the intention of shopping for a few necessities; though in all actuality, we both were in search for one of the many locations our abuelo (grandfather) described to have the best churros in town. After wandering for what seemed like a good 45 minutes, we stumbled into Gran Plaza 19. There, on the wall, was a big sign that said: Churros y Chocolate. JACKPOT! Our excitement gave off the “Americanos Locos” vibe as the waiter annoyingly traded a plate of churros for our Euros.

We quickly found a seat outside of the café and…well you can see what happened next. We inhaled those churros in about 120 seconds, max. SO DELISH!

I sense many more gastronomy-related blog entries, as I start traveling to different parts of Spain and Europe. Plans are currently underway to book plane, train and bus tickets for locations outside of Sevilla. I’ll keep you posted! 

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

There usually is one, it just takes a long time coming.

For most of us, this past week was a long, dark tunnel with no end in sight.  As mentioned previously, the Intensive Spanish course, midterms and interviews in Spanish kept us from truly enjoying beautiful Sevilla.  Well, there’s nothing better than ending the week with a high-note Friday. 

That Spanish midterm, not as bad as I thought it would be.  Most of my class felt the same way.  And I FINALLY got my internship placement call.  To my surprise, I was preferenced by three companies: Pampling: a start-up, online clothing company based out of Sevilla, Vorsevi: an international engineering and consulting firm, and Ghenova: a multidisciplinary engineering and consulting firm.  After narrowing it down to the two engineering/consulting firms, I decided to intern with Vorsevi. 

While both firms were compatible in sector, internship opportunity and company size, Vorsevi stood apart because of its establishment in Spanish, Portugal, Morocco, Mexico and surprisingly the United States.  It never hurts to have another successful company in my back pocket when back in the states (JK, I love you Wrigley).  I am both nervous and excited to start my internship in a few weeks and hope that my experiences will not only improve my language skills, but also give me a better understanding of business etiquettes in Spain.

Adding to this good-news-Friday, our program took us on a tour of La Catedral, the third largest church in the world, after St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City and Basilica of the National Shrine of Our Lady of Aparecida in Brazil.  La Catedral de Santa Maria de la Sede, a dedication to the Virgin Mary, was initially a Mosque during the 12^th Century, when the Moors were in power.  Renovated with breathtaking, Gothic styles and elaborate paintings, jewels and sculptures representing the Reconquista, La Catedral preserves La Giralda, the only feature of the once Almohad Mosque.   Yet another great historical experience in Sevilla!

To top off what was an excellent weekend, we celebrated RJ’s 20^th Birthday (the baby of the group) in great style! Once again, the students were in high spirits as smiles and laughter filled the night!

A friendly reminder to my fellow colleagues in Sevilla, as we enter yet another challenging week: “The night is darkest just before dawn.” When you think things couldn’t get any worse, I promise you, everything takes a turn for the better.

Snap Back to Reality

Don’t worry, we’ve still got gravity.

I’m referring to the reality of school kicking into gear.

The first few days in Sevilla were all fun and games.  Friends were made, historical sites were visited and much dancing took place.  However, the past week has been taxing for all the students in my program.  We were all required to take an Intensive Spanish for Business course for the first ten days, to get acclimated to common business terms used during lectures.  For the last four days, my colleagues and I have been cooped up in our rooms/study areas (with the exception of last night’s Sevilla vs. Real Madrid futbol game) memorizing a plethora of words, practicing correct Spanish grammar and paying close attention to the words rapidly spoken by Sevillanos. 

Tomorrow’s midterm exam (worth 30% of our grade) will consist of oral, written, comprehension, grammar, numeric and vocabulary sections, lasting close to two hours.  For this reason, this entry is much shorter than the rest…as the complexities of Spanish prepositions stare me right in the face.

Never fear, I’ll update you all on the well deserved celebraciones (celebrations) that will take place tomorrow night, after an arduous week of completing worksheets and making flashcards.

Hasta Mañana! (Until Tomorrow)

State of the Union (España)

Unemployment; a misfortune I would never wish upon my family and friends (possibly those on my not-so-kind list, kidding). Unfortunately, this calamity has spread through Sevilla, and all of España, like a dirty plague.  Unemployment offices (known as S.A.E) around the city are in business because herds and herds of people line up, on a daily basis, to find some form of work.

I visited one of these offices today, for a paper I had to write for my Intensive Business Spanish class.  Making my way through the crowd, I found a group of individuals sitting in a corner, waiting for their number to be called.  Building up the very little courage I had, I delivered the sales pitch I had been practicing all morning:  “Good afternoon, I’m an American student studying in Spain for a few months and would like to ask you a few questions about the state of the economy. Would you mind answering a few questions about your unemployment status for a project I’m doing?” (All in Spanish, of course).  After I had presented myself, in what seemed to be understandable Spanish, half of the people got up and walked away.  I wasn’t sure if it was because my Spanish was atrocious or if it was because those individuals had a stigma.

I mean, would you feel comfortable talking to a foreigner (an AMERICAN at that) about your joblessness? I sure wouldn’t.  It’s normal for anyone to feel ashamed about such a situation, and I understood the emotions these individuals were feeling when I showed up with my bubbly personality.

One man willingly came forward and said “Ayudare con tu proyecto” (I will help you with your project).  I secretly think he felt bad for me. David, age 58, has been unemployed for six years now.  He had a thriving career in the hotel industry, until the economy turned for the worse.  An animated man, David told me how he was barely surviving, and supporting his family of seven, with the pension he received from the government.  “Lo recibo porque trabaje en la hotelera por trente y seis anos” (I receive it [pension] because I have worked in the hotel business for thirty-six years).

David is one of the few lucky unemployed individuals.  Most don’t have the luxury of receiving the 450 Euros (monthly) from the government.  But even with this stipend, David struggles to buy food, pay for water, electricity and rent.  Sometimes, he said, he gives up a decent meal to pay his family’s bills.  However, the main reason driving David’s job search isn’t to make ends meet; it’s to prevent himself from getting bored on a daily basis.  He remembers being active, while having a job, and now he rots away at home or in one of these offices. 

Definitely not a good situation. This economic downturn has effected both the East and West, but it’s interesting to see how the unemployed, in various countries, deal with the situation.  I’ve noticed that people in España have more of the “go-getter” spirit and are hopeful for the future…something I have yet to see in the states.

Lessons learned: First, if you’re reading this and have a job/internship lined up, be grateful. You can’t truly appreciate what you have, until you’ve seen life without it. I have. And let me tell you, I am more grateful today (than I was the day I got my offer from Wrigley) to have had an internship with such an excellent company.  Second, if you’re still on the hunt for a job/internship, DON’T give up. Keep David as an example, at all times. Even at 58, unemployed for six years, he’s out and about looking for a job.

In happier news, I had the pleasure of meeting my host family’s five (of six) grandchildren.  They literally made my miserable night full of Spanish SO much better!

Speed Dating…For an Internship?

Times have become so terrible that the unemployed in España need to speed date in order to land an internship. Or so that’s what it felt like.  Approximately thirty business students were vying for some twenty positions offered by our study abroad program.

Sounds intense. Well, it WAS intense. Kelleys (business students at Indiana University) are used to bidding for interviews, getting selected as one of ten (or however many the company chooses), arriving at our Undergraduate Career Services Office (UCSO) fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and having a one-on-one interview with a recruiter. Unfortunately, all that interviewing at Kelley never prepared us for what we experienced today: a small hotel banquet room, twenty some tables, two hours and awkward five to ten minute interviews in the open…in SPANISH.

You read correctly. For roughly 100 minutes, I babbled on and on about Indiana University, my internship with Wrigley, my aspirations for the future, my hobbies and why I chose Sevilla of all places to study.  At first, I had a major case of word vomit – spewing “umm” and “so” between Spanish words – but after the first two interviews, I felt my Spanish improving exponentially.  By the tenth interview (yes, ten), I had my script down and was incorporating new business terms I had learned along the way. Clever, I know.

Though it may seem like the worst is over, interviews were only the calm before the storm.  Tonight begins the first of many sleepless nights most of us will be enduring.  While we cross our fingers and twiddle our thumbs, our study abroad program director will be pairing each candidate to an empresa (business).

Seems simple, right? If it were simple, I’d have nothing to blog about. The process goes somewhat like this: after the two hours, each company is asked to rank the students they spoke with.  The students are also asked to do the same. The director takes both lists and matches all the empresas with their number one choices and then goes down from there (like our intense Greek system, for all you Hoosiers reading). Now, this can end in one of four ways:

1.       A student ends up with his/her top choice

2.       A student settles for his/her second (or third) choice

3.       An empresa decides it doesn’t want any interns, if it doesn’t receive its first choice

4.       A student ends up with no internship

With more students than businesses, number four is a likely option.  In this case, students will have to interview with other companies, on their own time…an added stress none of us want with major classes starting in a few days.

Nonetheless, you’re looking at some accomplished Kelleys who, I have no doubt, will secure internships within the first round.  With any luck, this picture will make it into our business school’s marketing tools. ;)

Think it, Speak it, Live it

And so it began, my first day of class.  While many were dreading 9AM, I was looking forward to finally speaking Spanish in a structured environment.  Fifteen, semi-sleepy students sat in a horseshoe as our professor, Jorge, questioned each and every one of us.  Caught off guard, some spoke an understandable version of Spanglish, while others sat confused. 

Needless to say, business students always impress.  Within a half hour, one student was asking another what he wanted to do after graduation, as another asked about her favorite animal.  It surprised me to see how everyone’s Spanish improved so quickly, almost instantly like a flip of a switch. I’m pretty sure Jorge noticed as well because he stressed how important it was for us to immerse ourselves within the language.  “Es difícil despertar en la mañana pensando en una lengua que no es tuyo.  También es difícil hablar en una  lengua que no es tuyo.  Pero es importante hacerlo para mejorar la fluidez.” (It’s difficult to wake up in the morning thinking in a language that isn’t yours.  It’s also difficult to speak in a language that is not yours. But it’s important to do so to improve your fluidity.)

So, I took the plunge.  Taking Jorge’s words to heart, I made a conscious effort to speak in Spanish as frequently as possible.  I returned to my home stay, where Mama Lola had a delicious plate of Shrimp paella ready for me.  Since her oldest son was lunching with us, I grabbed the opportunity to bring up topics we had discussed in class. One in particular really struck a chord with David, the son. 

As of January 1^st, the Spanish government restricted smoking in all public areas.  Doesn’t seem like a big deal, right? WRONG. In European culture, it’s commonplace to have a cigarette, or two, or three every hour or so.  When I brought up the fact that I had to visit local bars and restaurants to ask baristas and customers of their opinions on this matter, David threw a frustrated fit.  Hands flailing, rate of speaking increasing, David expressed his agreement with the government’s stupidity, taking away the liberties of its citizens.  Mama Lola, on the other hand, calmly explained to me that the country provided social security and that too many people were making hospital visits for Emphazima, cancer, etc and it became too costly for the government to have pay for treatments.  For this reason, they banned smoking in public areas…to prevent second hand effects and to lower usage by the regulars (hopefully).

But David wouldn’t have any more of his mother’s “nonsense.” He quickly finished his food, got up and went outside to, ironically, smoke a cigarette.  It was interesting to see the generational differences of opinion between Mama Lola and David.  As feisty as David was when the subject was brought up, Mama Lola was cool and collected. 

This just goes to show, with age comes a better understanding of the world and its complexities.

An Emotional Muslim

“Fanáticos, matadores y las terroristas” (fanatics, killers and terrorists) were the words our tour guide used to describe Muslims.  She said that most people in Spain, and around the world, have this negative image of Muslims despite the history, culture and enlightenment they contributed to societies over years.  After seeing the saddened look on my face, she reassured me that there were many educated individuals in Spain who have studied Muslim dynasties.  “Sin ustedes, no tenemos la que tenemos ahora” (Without you [your people] we wouldn’t have what we have today).

I have never felt so proud of being Muslim than I did this morning.  We had the opportunity to visit al Alcazar, a large Spanish castle in the center of Sevilla. Our tour guide, a Sevillana and Christian by birth, took us through the castle explaining the history behind various parts.  It used to be at the center of a progressive and prosperous Sevilla – the capital of Andalusia – where kings ruled, diplomats made peace, sailors and merchants traded goods from the Americas to Europe, and above all Muslims and Christians lived in harmony.

Accrediting the Muslims, the guide pointed out the beautiful artwork within the structure.  Symmetrical shapes, vibrant colors, Arabic calligraphy, multiple trees, gardens and fountains are the sole marks, of the 10^th century Muslims, remaining after the Christian Empire took over in the 12^th century.  She said that the décor and attention to detail was what the Christians loved about Muslim artwork and decided to copy it when renovating the castle, after driving them out of power.

The tour continued and this pride was mixed in with a bit of unhappiness.  As I walked through the corridors and gardens of al Alcazar, I realized that my people’s years of hard work were partially erased with the stroke of a brush and chiseled stucco and wood.  The Islamic touch was replaced with paintings of Kings and Queens, crosses, and gothic architectural styles.

Yet, I left feeling energized but with a big burden on my shoulders.  My Muslim forefathers did so much for the communities they ruled in.  From architecture to literature, they revitalized civilizations across the world.  And what have I done? Nothing as monumental as what they’ve accomplished.  But I do have the ability to preserve their triumphs by educating those around me.  By retelling their history, I can restore what is in danger of being lost forever.

Salud. Dinero. Amor.

Health, Money and Love, three things a Sevilliano is blessed with when he sneezes; rightfully so, as my experiences, thus far, have proven these aspects to be some of the most important of life in Sevilla.

Keeping a long life in mind, Sevillianos pay extra attention to their daily diet.  With dishes based in olive oil, fresh vegetables and the finest meat, eating is an intense affair. Seriously. Over two days, I have consumed tapas after tapas at local bars, restaurants and cafes. And I’m not the slightest bit worried about gaining weight. Why, because it’s a way of life in Sevilla, and all of Spain for the matter.  Plus, the women walking on the streets are the representation of the average Sevillana: tall, slender and fit (therefore, no worries. I hope!).

Aside from stuffing my face every six hours, I have been shown the university where I will be taking my business classes, lectured about the importance of keeping a balance between schoolwork and “playing” in Sevilla and moved into my host family’s cute apartment.  Lola and her husband Manuel have graciously accepted my roommate Amanda and me into their small home and big hearts.

Greeted with a scrumptious lunch prepared by Mama Lola, my roommate and I had the opportunity to learn more about our hosts.  Parents of three grown men and an adopted niece (whose mother and father died while she was young), Lola and Manuel worked hard to raise their children and give them the best life possible.  Now, they enjoy a relaxing, retired life in their cozy apartment. In this society, family is a very important aspect of life cycle.  Having supported their children, the couple now enjoys monetary support from them.  Each individual takes care of the other, by getting a good education and a stable job to contribute to the family. It’s a great concept, one that allows Manuel to paint beautiful murals and Lola to perfect different recipes, in their free time. The power of Money.

And finally, my favorite, Love.  Never have I experienced so much emphasis on love during my travels than in Sevilla.  Spain prides itself with the Flamenco, a style of dance I was fortunate to see yesterday.  One type delineates the sorrow and pain a man/women suffers when separated from his/her lover.  I was able to capture a moment of this emotional dance.

I have felt this love everywhere in Sevilla: amongst older couples, parents and children, friends and even between los nativos y los extranjeros (natives and visitors).  I must admit, it’s a unique feeling being around such affectionate people…it makes me miss home and the good memories attached to it. Hand holding, public displays of affection, you name it…Sevilla’s got it. It’s a beautiful change in scene from the states, that’s for sure.

So the next time you sneeze, remember that I’m sending you blessing of health, money and love all the way from Spain.

Brazos y Besos (hugs and kisses) J

A Hot Mess

2:31, 2:32, 2:33PM.  The minutes just keep dragging on and on as my uneasiness, to get on the plane, grows.  At the insistence of my mom, my family and I left our house three hours before the boarding time.  Like any mother, who’s child was moving across the seas for four months, mine entered freak out mode hours before leaving the home. 

“Don’t forget the extra Advil dad brought.” “Are you sure you took enough pairs of socks?” “Why did you leave these packs of M&Ms behind? Take them, they don’t feed you on the airplanes, I know.” OH MOM. I couldn’t help but laugh at mom’s panic attack which was totally justified.

After a tearful goodbye with my parents and grandparents I made my way through the long, twisty walkways at O’Hare.  Hoping to get access to free wi-fi to make some last minute phone calls, I quickly grabbed the seat closest to a wall outlet.  To my dismay, I was prompted to pay for internet access. Thanks O’Hare. Instead, I ventured off to make new friends with whom I shared a long, sleepless eight hour flight to Madrid.

[After landing in Madrid]

Most of us CIEE students had a 45 minute difference between landing in Madrid and having our connecting flight take off to Seville.  As my luck would have it, I wasn’t given an express checkout pass to cut the customs line.  All of a sudden, my Spanish kicked in. I started begging and pleading the security officer to let me cut the line so I could make my flight which was already boarding.   My travel mates went ahead, trying to stall as much as possible, as I found a way to maneuver myself through the maze of blue cloth-tape to the front of the line.

With 18 minutes left until take off, a group of six of us ran through the elongated corridors of Madrid International Airport.  Accidentally taking the elevators to the wrong floor, we had to back trace our steps hauling our heavy carry-ons up a flight of stairs. No, the airport did NOT have a functioning escalator going upwards.  With the help of an attendant, we were pointed in the right direction only to sprint to our gate within the last few seconds of it closing (a total Amazing Race moment), as the annoyed flight attendant blared “La llamada final para el vuelo a Sevilla.”  I bet she was thinking “Stupid Americans.”

A quick 90 second shuttle bus ride got us to our flight, on which we were greeted by multiple, irritated middle-aged business men staring at their watches as if they had some important meeting to get to.  The man I happened to sit next to asked who we were and what caused our delay, frustration in his tone. 

Bottom line: we made it to Seville. I am sitting in my luxurious hotel room writing this blog after a long day of eating, walking and exploration.  This place is unreal, nothing like I’ve seen before.  I mentioned to my roommate that the calles (streets) y edificios (buildings) of the city seem as if they belong on the set of a Bourne Identity movie.  Beautiful, breathtaking…I could go on and on about how gorgeous Seville is. 

Tomorrow will be filled with a full 12 hour orientation with a tour of the University and el Centro, a placement interview with CIEE staff, topped off with tapas and a Flamenco show. I suspect the lot of us will venture out to find the hippest discoteca. I’ll keep you posted on our findings.  Until then, enjoy a few pictures from my adventures today!

Reflecting on Relationships

Today ends my five week internship with Wrigley. Yes, these are the same people who make the gum you’re probably chewing now…and the previous owners of Wrigley Field, home of the Chicago Cubs. 

As I went around saying my final goodbyes to everyone, I had a flashback to December 13. That night, I was relieved to have ended the toughest semester at Kelley, grateful for Dad’s regularly home cooked meals and a little nervous to start work with the Treasury group the next morning.  This time the internship was a little different: there would be no other interns to chat with on Communicator, little room for error (as I had been an intern for four months in the summer), but above all, a sense of urgency on my part to perform at a higher standard than the summer, to really prove that I deserved another summer at Wrigley.

But the minute I entered the Wrigley Building I was greeted with SS’s bubbly charisma and that’s when I knew these next few weeks would just fly. And that’s exactly what happened. Mondays would suddenly turn into Fridays, projects would go from being “in progress” to almost “completed,” the holidays came and went and we rang in the New Year.

Not only did my time at Wrigley allow for professional growth, and a better understanding of the industry, but also personal growth. My boss TW (who I refer to as “boss man” with close friends), was a constant source of motivation.  Once he realized I was a big fan of quotes, he kindly added me to a list of people he’d send inspirational thoughts to (some listed below).

·         “Stacy, let’s not complain now. There could be worse things you could be doing now. It’s not like your digging dirt. A few accounting entries won’t kill you.” –TW (now that’s what I call perspective)

·         Make your accomplishments seem effortless.

·         Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.

·         Nothing else in the world, not all the armies, is so powerful as an idea whose time has come.

·         what you get is insignificant compared with what you do with what you get

·         The invisible and subtle gives rise to the visible and material. Respect the Unseen.

Now you’re thinking, what does any of this have to do with her travels to Spain, right?

From the jokes to the serious conversations (thank you TG and SS), the real world advice to the sporadic lunches and gracious presents, I’ve understood that much can be learned from personal relationships created with individuals. To accept others, despite their differences of opinions, traditions and even preferences in men will be challenge I must deal with while abroad.  Something so intuitive, if not approached properly, can prevent me from fully experiencing life in another country. 

So, my plan of action: to embrace the world with open arms…and when I feel some hesitation, to reflect on my personal experiences at Wrigley and move forward.

A Change of Heart

Chicago, you’ve done it once again. Just as we thought we’d have to wait until next winter for a proper snowstorm, you proved us wrong.  Walking into my office today, I felt as if I had walked out of a snow globe and into reality. A snow sprinkled jacket, wet hair, sloshy boots…yep, Chicago you showed your true colors this morning. Classy.

As I walked the mile and half to work this morning, it hit me how ready I am for a change in scene.  You’re probably thinking, “What was this girl thinking walking to work? Couldn’t she just catch a cab?” Or, if you are my mom reading this, you’re saying “if only she had listened to me four weeks ago when I told her to buy a CTA bus pass.” My response to that: buses and cabs are not for the “regulars.” 

I’d like to think I’ve become a “local” in the city.  Storming out of Union Station and brisk walking with the same crowd has become routine since this past May.  Every morning I see the same man, with his large coffee and breakfast sandwich from Corner Bakery, to my left and a woman, having stepped out of Vogue in her four inch black Stilettos approaching me as I walk down Wacker Drive (except today her Stilettos were replaced with fashionable boots). Opting out for a more comfortable mode of transportation would prevent me from experiencing Chicago at its finest:

-- being greeted by the Chicago Tribune man in the morning, “Happy Tuesday young lady”,

-- turning the corner to the same homeless man, who no longer asks me for spare change, but reminds me to watch my step as I hurry to work and smile as I do so,

-- watching locals slip left and right, sometimes even wiping out, only to have fellow locals help them up and ask if they’re okay,

--annoying city drivers as I wait until the final seven seconds to cross a main street, like a typical pedestrian.

These are the simple pleasures of Chicago, of home, that I have come to love and appreciate.  BUT, I am ready for a change.  With seven days until take off, I am sensing a change of heart.  As the days move closer to January 18^th, my anticipation to move to Spain grows more and more. 

For 17 weeks I will be studying and interning in beautiful Sevilla, in southern Spain.  Ninety other students and I will be dispersed around the city, in dorms, apartments and with gracious Sevillanos who have opened up their homes to us.  I have chosen to live with a family to improve my Spanish fluency.  My goal, over these 119 days or so, is to make Sevilla my new home…to become a local. I foresee many language mishaps, getting lost in transit and being gawked at, but I hope these instances will make me stronger and transform me into something more than just a four-month tourist.

I survived Chicago. I hope to say the same about Sevilla.