The Bulls

With the Chicago Bulls snagging first place in the NBA, home court advantage throughout the playoffs and home to everyone’s favorite for Most Valuable Player, I thought it’d be fitting to blog about The Bulls.

Los Torros that is.

It’s about that time of year, in Sevilla, where the bulls come out to play. During la Feria de Abril, Sevilla hosts a week long marathon of bull fighting. All day, every day.

It’s such a big deal that it attracts millions of people from around the world to Sevilla. The Kennedys and Kings and Queens from the European Union are some of the famous celebrities that have strolled around the streets of my city.  

A few friends and I are looking into buying tickets for this sought after Corrida (Bull Fighting) event. To our surprise, most of the tickets are already sold out…or out of our price range. The only seats left are way up in the stadium, out in the beating midday sun of Sevilla. Doesn’t sound too bad until you check the weather around that first week of May. Temperatures will reach higher than 100F. Yikes.

I decided to talk to my host parents before purchasing my tickets, hoping to get persuaded out of buying them. But I discovered that La Corrida isn’t just a bunch of bull fights, it’s a treasured art form.  If it weren’t for La Corrida, there would be no use for bulls in the world. A sad thought.

For years the bulls are fed, developed and trained in a particular way to get ready for these fights. Their stamina is built up in such a way, that even the smallest jab, during a fight, doesn’t affect them much (sound familiar ahem*Chicago Bulls*ahem). And when they are finally killed, they feel pain…but never suffer.  Apparently Torridos (the men) train for years and years and have become experts at what they do…each fighter earning anywhere from 30,000 to 90,000 Euros per fight (and mind you, each fight last 20-30 minutes).

And you thought Derrick Rose was making bank.

I decided that I’d give this whole bull fighting deal a chance. Manolo (my host dad) said I wouldn’t be able to handle it, that it took a certain strength and tolerance to watch a Torrido struggle to prevail over this large, dangerous creature.

Little does he know, I’ve patiently watched my Bulls struggle to return to the main stage and regain the glory that once belonged to Chicago, for the past 13 years.  

It’s not a matter of having the stomach to stand the two hour show, it’s a matter of believing that the opponent with the most hunger, desire and heart will come up on top.

Madrid: Mishaps and Magical Moments

This past weekend, I spent 54 lovely hours in the city of Madrid.  The capital of Spain, Madrid felt like a cross between Chicago and New York. But first…my interesting journey to Madrid.

Originally, KT and I had booked our bus tickets, leaving from Sevilla, for 6PM Thursday night.  Unfortunately, a mandatory Internship event forced us to change our bus time to the next available: 11PM. As horrible as that journey may sound, KT and I made it through the six hour bus ride very easily. We slept like babies, at least I did…KT had a very annoying bus buddy who was interested in learning more about our Madrid plans. Creepy.

We finally made it to the Madrid Bus station at 5:15AM.  After freshening up, KT and I wasted time observing other travelers, as we waited for the city Metro’s to start running at 6AM.  At 5:55AM, we bought our tickets and entered the tunnel, making sure that our hostel directions corresponded with the colorful maps at the station. 

We had a plan of action: grab the grey line, get off at the first stop and then switch onto the baby blue line and get off at the major stop (aka: Sol or the “Time Square” of Madrid).

But even the best laid plans fail.

KT’s creepy bus buddy jumped onto our Metro car just as the doors were closing.  Once again, he struck up conversation with KT, asking her where she was going and staying.  Flustered and wanting to get as far away as possible from this man, KT and I got off the Metro and then proceeded to get on the wrong line, taking us in the opposite direction of our destination. Some thirty minutes later, we found our way onto the right line and to the right stop.  Once out of the station, we climbed out onto what can only be described as a quiet, dark Time Square-esqe center – La Puerta del Sol.  We quickly found our hostel, rung the doorbell until an angry owner woke up, got our room and took a nap so we could start off the day recharged.

All of Friday, we explored the East side of town (or at least it was the East side on the map we had): El Jardin del Buen Retiro, Puerta de Alcala and Plaza de Cibeles were first on the list.  It was a great day for outdoor sightseeing as the sun was beaming all day. We also had a chance to enjoy El Museo del Prado, home to one of Europe’s best art collection.  For someone who’s artwork can’t get anymore complicated than stick figures, I have come to appreciate various artistic styles, taking an interest in learning more about the inspiration and history behind an artist’s work.

After long day of walking and enriching our minds, we grabbed a very delicious (but pricy) lunch in la Plaza Puerta de Sol. Grilled fish, fried chicken smothered in soy sauce, mussels, olives and luscious Mousse de Naranja (Orange flavored cake) were quickly consumed between the two of us. We left for our hostel to rest up for a night out in the town.

Since it was a Friday, I had arranged plans to attend religious services at Madrid’s Ismaili place of Worship.  A total of twelve people (including me) were in attendance for Friday ceremonies.  Our prayers were recited in Arabic (as always) but most of the other rites and rituals were done in SPANISH! Total cool! I was so stunned because I had grown up participating in these activities in my parents’ native tongues: Urdu, Hindi and Gujrati. 

Afterwards, the family offered me sweets and began telling me about their small community of forty Ismailis.  I asked them questions about why they had settled in Spain (instead of the US, Canada or England where there are large immigrant Ismaili diasporas).  One answer led to another question which led to a story, and then another and another and another.  By the time I looked at my phone, it was close to midnight! I had had a great time with the family and definitely learned a lot about my religious history that night.

Hungry like none other, a friend and I found a local tapas bar to grab a quick dinner before getting on the last metro for the night.  I ordered Tortilla Espanola (a very basic tapa) and Zumo de Naranja Natural (freshly squeezed OJ) for the both of us. We had a chance to catch up and discuss our experiences in our respective study abroad programs. 

The next day (Saturday) I spent exploring the west side of town (or so on the map), with my best friend, while KT met up with her roommates from IU who are currently studying abroad in Madrid. We visited Plaza Mayor, el Catedral de la Almudena, el Palacio Real, Plaza de Oriente, Plaza de España and el Templo de Debod (Egyptian ruins gifted to Spain by Egypt!!!).  All that sightseeing finally led us to Calle Gran Via (Madrid's Michigan Ave).  We stopped by a Chinese Restaurant (yes Chinese) for some long-desired Asian cuisine.  We spent the rest of the day shopping for hip European apparel, taking advantage of the last week of Rebajas (sales) in Spain. 

A sad goodbye and a few promises to plan future trips later, we were off our separate ways.  I arrived back at my hostel and was greeted by KT.  We packed up, had a great night out and went to bed at a decent hour in order to catch our 11AM bus back to Sevilla, the next morning.

Six hours later, I was back at home sweet Sevilla.  I’m still in the process of unpacking and sorting dirty clothes from reusable ones (laundry is done every two weeks at my homestay).  Though I am still a bit tired from the long bus ride home, I am in trip planning mode again!!!

Next stop on this Globe Trotter’s Itinerary: LISBON, PORTUGAL! (T-Minus TWO Days!)

It’s Always Sunny en Sevilla

Today has been AWESOME. Ever have one of those days when everything just seems to be going right? A day that’s too good to be true it makes you want to knock on wood to avoid jinxing it? Yep, I experienced one of those today.

Not only is it literally sunny in Sevilla (we’re enjoying 60 degree weather, be jealous you Hooisers and Chicagoians), but my Intensive Spanish class has been going REALLY well, I have the most bomb dot com presentation group, two trips outside of Sevilla are now booked and I’m planning a third, I had Rosemary Chicken and chocolate covered strawberries for lunch AND there are only three days left in this week.  See what I mean? GREAT DAY!

But the highlight of my day was having “Afternoon Tea” with a friend’s intercambio.  At the beginning of the semester, each of us was assigned an intercambio (Spanish student from the University). The goal was to help American students improve their Spanish and eventually help the Spanish students improve their English…also making new friends! I have yet to meet my intercambio; we’ve only communicated via email since he’s in the middle of midterms.  However, I’ve sort of adopted this friend’s intercambio.

Carmen and I met my first weekend in Sevilla and became friends instantaneously.  From our conversations over the past week, I learned that she and I have the similar values and dreams for the future.  I was super excited to meet her this afternoon.  After classes, Carmen, MS, MF and I went to a tapas bar and had a great conversation over café con leche (coffee with milk).  We talked about everything: school, relationship (or lack thereof), trips to other countries, festivals…pretty much everything under the sun (all in Spanish). 

On my walk home, I couldn’t help but feel a great sense of accomplishment. I had just carried on an hour long conversation, in Spanish, with a local.  Almost suddenly I had this epiphany: I LOVE this place, absolutely love it (cheesy, I know).  It was in that moment, I truly appreciated being in Sevilla and having the opportunity of becoming fluent in another language, immersing myself in a different culture.

I’ve got to make the most out of my time here and today was a big step in the right direction!

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!

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!

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.