¡Fallas!

The second after I stepped off the plane from Italy, I noticed that Valencia had changed. In the metro on my way home, I was squeezed tightly between a pair of eager German tourists, a group of teenage girls giddy about being out of school for an entire week, and an elderly man with a disgruntled, tired look on his face. I looked down the length of the train and glimpsed the perfectly coifed shiny black hair of a Fallera, pinned in place for a day of representing the festivities while wearing an ornate and colorful dress. Fallas had begun.

As I broke ground level after surfacing from the belly of the underground, I noticed even more signals of the arrival of this sensory celebration. Children filled the streets, laughing and running with one another. For a split second, I smiled and found this absolutely adorable. The kids were just enjoying the fresh air and each other's company, right? ....No. A child, who couldn't have been more than six years old, pulled out a lime green lighter and lit something in his hand. In exactly four seconds, a ridiculously loud ''BOOM!'' erupted from the tiny paper roll he had thrown to my right.

I have to admit that I jumped a little. Okay, a lot. This must have been hilarious to them because the little devils began happily tossing more and more sound-bombs in my direction. I picked up my pace and hurried past, muttering to myself that I would never let my six-year-old play with fire.

Aside from the petardos (the loud firecrackers), there are many things I loved about Fallas week. One of my favorite parts was the sudden appearance of numerous street stands that offered fried sugary delights such as churros, buñuelos or lanzas served with steamy thick chocolate. Although I could definitely handle having those all year round, my figure would probably suffer drastically. I just had to settle with smelling their sinful scents and tasting their greasy goodness for a short time. I already miss them.

Most importantly, the sudden appearance of numerous elaborate, sometimes gigantic, papier-maché structures was impressive to witness. Here are a few examples, since my explanations would not even begin to do them justice without pictures:

Alas, the entire celebration of Fallas culminates in the Cremà, the night where all the statues erupt into flames and burn away. Most of the structures are parodies of events, people or ideas from the past year. This burning is a very symbolic exchange because it represents a cleansing in order to make room for a new, fresh year. The whole thing seems a bit sad to me with my limited foreign understanding of a festival that has integrated itself into the Valencian community for decades. It's disconcerting to see such beauty displayed for six days and then completely destroyed in a three-minute show of fireworks and flames. Here are a few pictures from this night:

You'll notice that they were taken from a distance. This is because Christy, Abby and I decided to stand at the very front of the line and subsequently found ourselves in a shower of ashes when the HUGE structure burst into flames above us. Needless to say, we high-tailed it out of there. Here are our shocked expressions:

Overall, Fallas was nothing like I'd expected. Aside from the annoying firecrackers and suffocating crowds, I enjoyed watching and taking part in this tradition. Seeing the structures burn and wither into smoke and soot, I felt strangely connected with the community. Witnessing something so spectacular and unusual undoubtedly brings people together. Old or young, three-day tourist or Valencian native, we all experienced the moving power of art and ingenuity.

I've only been back in class for a week and a half since Fallas, but this Thursday is the start of our 12 day vacation for Holy Week. I'm looking forward to spending a week with my Dad in Madrid and then jetting off to London for a few days to meet some girls from my program. Hopefully, I'll also be able to reconnect with a high school friend. With countless decisions and transitions on my mind, it'll be good to have some time to get away.

Buenas noches a todos.

Italia

These past two weeks were a speeding blur of crazy, vibrant, delicious, fiery, and tranquil.

I loved every minute.

My trip to Italy with Christy was full of gelato, beautiful buildings, sore feet, new friends, and multiple triangle-shaped pieces of cheesy heaven.

We stayed in Milan for all four nights and explored the city on our first full day:

On our second day, we caught an early morning train to say buon giorno to foggy Venice and spoke Spanish while strolling through the streets with our new Chilean friend Felipe.

Our third day was scheduled to be spent in Fair Verona, home of Shakespeare's Capulets and Montagues. We missed our early train but decided to make the most of the morning: we read leisurely and played in a park.

We had plenty of time to catch the next train to Verona. We spent the day wandering through the city admiring the style of the buildings, visiting a grand plaza with a Roman arena, walking through the Juliet House, stopping for a generous slice of pizza for lunch, and seeing Juliet's tomb.

I'm so thankful that Christy and I were safe and happy throughout our entire trip. I already miss Italy, but being back in Valencia is comforting. At least I know the language, and can (usually) find my way around the city without a completely confused look on my face. I'm going to miss this place.

Come back soon for pictures from Las Fallas, an annual week-long celebration full of firecrackers, street food, fiestas, millions of tourists, and elaborate paper-mache structures of societal parodies erupting into flames!

Ciao.

I'm alive!!

Believe it or not, this is the first free moment I've had since my last update. My brain is literally buzzing from all the running around I've done today, and these past few days have been such a whirlwind!! My feet are telling me to slow down. I feel like a walking zombie. But I'm continuing to fall in love with Spain, and I'm definitely enjoying my time here.

First off, BARCELONA! What a fascinating yet strangely impersonal place. In comparison to Valencia, it seemed much more cosmopolitan. It was absolutely full of tourists- I think I literally heard snippets of every single language imaginable. Traipsing around the city with two equally American-looking girls, I didn't feel as though we stuck out as much. We joined the sea of tourists and rode the tide to the Sagrada Familia, a modern cathedral designed by the late architect Gaudí. It had been in construction for over 100 years, and will supposedly be finished around 2025. Here are some pictures from the outside:

One of my favorite places we visited in Barcelona was the Parque Güell, also by Gaudí. I especially loved the colorful mosaics everywhere. Gaudí was inspired by images in nature, which gave his architecture an organic, earthy feel while remaining modern. He left his imprint throughout the city, and this park was able to display some of his most whimsical creations. This is a picture of me sitting on the longest park bench in the world, followed by a crowded staircase in the park and two of the crazy Gaudí houses:

Though Barcelona was exciting and new, I really prefer Valencia. I can't exactly explain why, but it just seems to have a more friendly, cozy atmosphere. I still think this past weekend was one of my favorites so far in Spain! The yummy food, good company, and off-the-wall architecture made it fun.

Since returning from Barcelona, I hit the ground sprinting. Not just running, SPRINTING. I've had lots of homework/essays/trip planning to keep me busy, and it's just now slowed down long enough for me to take a deep breath and relax. Busy doesn't even begin to cover my day today. After three long hours of class, I high-tailed it to a doctor's office. I had a problem with my ear, but now it's fixed! I'll never again take for granted the wonderful gift of hearing. Right afterward, I walked briskly back to the apartment to put down my heavy schoolbag and ran out the door again to meet Hector for a walk to the beach. Even though I arrived completely worn out, being so close to the sea was calming. We had a pretty deep conversation about the meaning of life, and I was impressed with my ability to keep up & offer some semi-intelligent thoughts in Spanish. We stopped for a cafe con leche along the shore and I taught him some highly important English words like "swingset," "zipline," and "elbow." He'll practically be a native speaker in no time! Here are some photos from the excursion: rock art, jumping on the pier, and the port at sunset.

I hope you enjoyed the pictures! I'm about to crash since I literally haven't stopped moving for days. Now I can tranquilly ponder my upcoming trip to Milan, and possibly Switzerland, with one of my best friends here. I'm relishing the privilege to say that I'm flying to Italy for the weekend. What an exciting lifestyle.

Buenas noches, amigos y familiares! (Goodnight, friends and family!)

Bliss.

Content and full of hearty homemade lentil soup, I'm gazing out my floor-to-ceiling window at the sunny street below. Just in case you've missed this little detail: I.am.in.love.with.this.place.

This morning, I woke up early to walk to the train station with two good friends to buy tickets to Barcelona for our trip next weekend. Afterward, I spent two leisurely hours alone, shopping and people-watching as the stylish Spaniards sipped from porcelain cups of cafe con leche in the early afternoon fresh air. I love the slower pace of life here. It's especially relieving after a week of midterms. Feels good to be free again.

Over lunch, my madre told me some horror stories from past hosting experiences. She talked about having two girls who were extremely rich, spoiled, and rude. They got their lawyers to threaten to sue the program based on the smell from a household insecticide spray that was "killing them slowly." Naturally, in my madre's mind, the cause of this chaos was their Jewish faith. I tried to tell her that, no, Judaism doesn't promote ridiculous temper tantrums about cockroach-killing chemicals, and that the Jewish friends I have are kind and considerate, but I'm not sure she believed me. I just hope I don't become the star of a story that makes future studiers abroad shake their heads and chuckle with astonishment into their soup bowls.

Alas, I must go, for the last few hours of sunlight are beckoning me to join them outside. Wherever you are in the world, enjoy this day. It's a good one.

Time...I want more!

For the past three weeks, I've felt like Spain has been slipping through my fingers. We've had Friday classes, which sounds bearable, but when each class is an hour and a half long--and the one that separates school from the weekend goes until 7 pm--it begins to take its toll. By the time classes are through, I don't have enough energy to do anything but rest. This weekend, however, began for me at 3:30 pm on Thursday. I had plenty of time to catch my Z's before setting out to learn from and enjoy my surroundings.

Friday morning, I joined a group of students from my program on a trip to the Fallas museum. Intricate and colorful constructions of people, animals and other social parodies were on display. These beautiful sculptures, made out of wood and papier-mache, are to be burned in the streets in March during the Fallas festival. It was fascinating to see the amount of energy that goes into making these structures when their ultimate purpose is to be destroyed.

I hopped on a train to Sagunto with seven other girls on Saturday. My madre had prepared me a mini pamphlet with information about each major site in the city. Her face completely lit up when I told her where we were going. According to her, visiting Spain without seeing the Roman ruins of Sagunto is pointless. I happen to completely agree. It may have been the beautiful sunny weather, the vast castle we explored, the friendliness of the local people, the two fuzzy cats whose ears I scratched, the ghost stories told in pitch-black dungeons, the adorable bright yellow house with the outdoor terrace, or the bond we shared over viewing all of this majesty together. That day has been my favorite so far here in Spain.

Dusty and sun-touched, all eight of us climbed into the train back to Valencia with sore muscles and laughter. We talked and gazed out the windows, dreaming of taking a long siesta back at home. The magic of the day kept me awake until I dropped (gracefully, of course) onto my bed to melt away some of the exhaustion. That night I met three friends at a cafe for some yummy dessert and encouraging conversation.

On Sunday, we had our usual feast. This week was my madre's turn to host. That meant homemade paella, the best I have ever tasted. We also had shrimp cocktail and crab salad, strawberries & whipped cream, apple tart and tea. And, of course, the cidra de manzana (apple cider), her favorite. The lunch was delicious, but the six of us ended up talking for hours. We didn't leave the table until 5:30 pm! Good company, but I was (noticing a theme here?) incredibly exhausted after that.

Quick siesta, then time to introduce Hector to the wonderful American custom of...s'mores! My apartment mate, Nina, found some makeshift s'mores ingredients. We had cinnamon/sugar cookies instead of Honey-Maid graham crackers, Milka bars instead of Hershey's, and cherry-flavored skinny marshmallows in place of Jet-Puffed. We cooked the marshmallows over the blue flame from a stovetop eye. They were definitely delicious, but not exactly the same! After this Spanish-American fusion of camping snacks, we all played Texas Hold'em and Nina & I tried to teach Hector some more English. Trying to prove that he is a true gentleman, he walked us ALL the way home with his trusty pony (bicycle) by his side. I even got to ride it for a few seconds!

That brings this weekend to a close. This week is midterm week, which is insane. I can't believe we've already covered half of our material. Spain is going by WAYY too quickly. In a way, that's a good thing, since it means I'm enjoying myself immensely. I can already tell it's going to be hard to leave this place. I'm off to go see, learn, and experience more! Chao.

Longest weekend of my LIFE

Valencia was uncharacteristically cold and wet today. It was seriously a challenge to leave my warm bed this morning since I knew I would soon be braving public transportation to venture out to Godella, a town that's about 30 minutes away. After my class this morning, I was swallowed up into the belly of the metro station and crammed into a reeling subway car along with hundreds of other students, employees, and vacationers on their way through the city. I relished the free moments to people-watch and collect my thoughts.

The reason for my journey was to spend the afternoon with a vibrant woman named Rosario. My internship with Social Services gives me the privilege to keep her company and help her with errands each Monday. Paralyzed from the waist down, she spends her days in a wheelchair. Rosario and I talked for over an hour about her family's bread bakery, robotic engineering, and how much we wished it had been a sunny day so we could have taken a stroll/ride in the countryside. Her mischievous smile crept up as she asked me if I would join her as a "ladrona," or thief, next time. She pointed out the window in the direction of a small orange grove. "When it's warmer outside," she grinned, "I like to snatch an orange or two from those branches. But we'll have to make sure no one's watching." I think we're going to get along wonderfully.

After returning from Godella, I stayed at school until almost 9 pm to work on a paper that's due tomorrow. LONG day. Now, I'm full of delicious veggies and homemade tortilla (basically an egg and potato pancake). Perfect comfort food :)

This past week has been a whirlwind, but the weekend is more worthy of discussion. Thursday night, I was invited to dinner at the home of some friends of Hector. There were about seven girls from my program and five Spanish guys. Let me tell you, those guys can COOK! I was so impressed. There were two giant, round, oven-baked sandwiches, a pot of rice with chicken and veggies, and a couple of tortilla dishes. Well, okay, so the tortilla was store-bought...but still! I never would have expected a small group of twenty-three-year-old guys to come up with such a delicious feast.

After dinner we talked and played some games for awhile. We listened to an eclectic mix of tunes from Kenny G to Shakira to Michael Jackson. At one point during the night, I was hoisted up onto the dinner table...I was so shocked that I didn't know what to do! I ended up standing there awkwardly for a couple of seconds and jumping down. Everyone pretty much laughed at me, but I can't blame them!

Later, we left the house to go to a discoteca. We danced for hours (well, I tried to...I still need to work on my moves!) and eventually the DJ announced the last song of the night. The lights came on at 4 a.m., and I was jolted back into the reality that I had class that morning at 10:30. Woops. Keep in mind I usually don't even stay out that late on weekENDS. It definitely took me awhile to recover, and I didn't say much in class the next day, but I absolutely had a blast that night.

Friday after class, our program organized a poetry recital to celebrate Valentine's Day. I read a love poem by Pablo Neruda which you can check out in English and Spanish here. After the recital, I went with a group of friends to our new favorite dessert restaurant for some rich hot chocolate. It was well-deserved after such a long week. Friday night, since I was so exhausted from Thursday, I stayed in with Nina and my madre. We ended up watching a movie called Noel followed by the Canary Islands drag queen competition. Needless to say, it was interesting. After I couldn't keep my eyes open even to watch a glittery man traipse around in a rooster costume mouthing the words to Lady Ga-Ga's "Bad Romance," I went to bed.

Saturday, I went with a big group to a beach town called Gandia. It was sadly raining that day as well, but we toured a Ducal Palace and later crowded together for warmth in a coffee shop. That night, the Arctic Monkeys gave a free outdoor concert. I wouldn't say they're my new favorite band or anything, but it was fun to see practically everyone in the city between the ages of 12 and 30 in one giant mob, jumping and singing along. That night ended quietly, with a group of three other friends at an Argentinian restaurant eating heavenly pasta at one in the morning.

Now, dear readers, you can understand why I haven't had time to update until now. I'll definitely be dedicated to writing more often so you don't have to sit through such a long description all at once of what I've been up to...but hopefully it's been enjoyable! Thanks for sticking with me. Buenas noches, amigos.

¿Más cosas?

I'm falling more in love with this city and these people every day, even though little things frustrate me at times--like the fact that you have literally 2 seconds to cross the street when the walk sign starts to blink, and that practically every business closes from 2 pm to 5 pm for a collective siesta.

Many of the quirks here are endearing. Accustomed to the usual warm weather, Valencians bundle up tightly in their winter coats, scarves and gloves when it drops one degree below 60 Farenheit. I realized early on that observing passersby on the street below does not help at ALL when trying to figure out how cold it is outside. My madre is horrified if I go out with a bare neck or light jacket, even on a sunny day like today. I wonder how the Valencians would handle a snowstorm like the one I'm "missing out on" in Charlottesville?

As I've mentioned before, it's offensive to leave uneaten food on your plate. My apartment mate, Nina, and I regularly leave the dinner table completely stuffed to please our madre. I didn't know that it extended to restaurants as well. At a tapas bar last weekend, one of my friends couldn't finish her generous helping of seafood paella. The waiter came by, saw the rice left on her plate, and told her that if she didn't finish her food he would make her sweep the floors. His grin suggested that he wasn't being serious, so my friend pushed her food around a little to make it seem like she'd eaten more. But he knew. At one point during the evening, he pointed to the little lobster-shrimp left on her plate and showed her how to eat it. When she complied and sadly ate her "amigo," he wanted her to take it one step further: apparently the brains are the most delicious part. The waiter picked up the head and pushed it close to her mouth. The disgusted look on her face sent everyone else into laughter. I wonder, though, how we would have reacted if it had happened to us!

In addition to dangling dismembered crustaceans in the faces of their customers, most Valencians are very open about personal matters. During a celebratory meal with some of my madre's friends and family members, one of the guests asked me my weight. Everyone looked at me expectantly, like it was just another lighthearted question such as "What is your favorite color?" or "Where did you buy your shoes?" It was definitely surprising. I mumbled something about not really knowing my exact weight. It's not like I'm sensitive about it, but that's an intimate question for a first-time encounter over lunch. It's fascinating to learn about what's customary or taboo in this new culture.

In other news, I have met with my intercambio Hector (pronounced Ector). Basically, this is a way for students from my program to meet and get to know Valencian students in order to practice our Spanish and their English. The curious thing about my intercambio is that he speaks ZERO English. We walked through a park for awhile, pointing to things like benches, trees and streetlights and quizzing each other on their names. Every time I would ask him a question in English, he would get anxious and say, in Spanish, "I'm ashamed!" It was hilarious, but I tried not to make fun of him too much. I enjoyed our conversation though. I'm looking forward to meeting with him again soon.

I've also found a church that I enjoy. The pastor and his wife are originally from Texas, but they have lived here for over twenty years and both speak perfect Spanish. At first I found it strange to worship and listen to a sermon in a foreign language. I quickly realized that it's more about the attitude and less about reciting familiar words. I actually learned a lot because I had to really think about the words I was singing and hearing. The church is very small but intimate. Everyone I met was extremely friendly and excited for me to return. I hoped I would find such a welcoming church here but I never dreamed it would happen so soon.

I've crossed off nearly everything on my to-do list already. If you have any suggestions of things you think I should do while I'm here, I'd love to hear them! Off to enjoy my weekend now. Hasta luego.