A reality check

A reality check for anyone who has ever traveled and complained about it...



hehehhe

For Thanksgiving, Turkey

This Thanksgiving break my good friend Elisa headed to Istanbul, Turkey to visit her fiance, Huseyin. Since I am living relatively "close" to Istanbul, and will be a bridesmaid in their wedding this summer, I decided to make my way over there too. The first couple of days I wandered around by myself to experience best the historic landmarks of Istanbul. Within these are the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque and the Basilica Cistern. The Hagia Sophia is known world-wide, as it holds within it a historical mixture of the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires, of the Christian and the Muslim faiths. In 537, in the same spot where two churches stood before, the Hagia Sophia was built. For the next 900 years it stood as the center of Orthodox Christianity. In 1453 the city was conquered by the Ottomans and forcibly transformed into a Mosque. It served as Istanbul's mosque for 500 years. In 1935 it was converted into a museum. The Hagia Sophia was chosen a world heritage site by UNESCO in 1985.

The Sultan Ahmed Mosque, better known as Blue Mosque, is an absolutely stunning temple. It was built between 1609 and 1616, facing the Hagia Sophia. The minarets sound the "call to prayer" five times a day, reminding Muslims that it is time to pray. This can be heard throughout every crevice of Istanbul, as it is sent over loudspeakers all over the sprawling city.

At first it's quite an eery sound... the sensation can send chills up your spine. Yet, as you grow accustomed, it can be quite relaxing. Without noticing, you even do a bit of meditation as you listen and imagine thousands of people in the country praying in unison. 

Another world-famous site in Istanbul is the Basilica Cistern. It is the largest of several hundred ancient cisterns worldwide, and it lies below the bustling streets of Istanbul. It was built in the 6th century during the Byzantine Empire. Throughout history it has provided water to important landmarks in the city such as the Stoa Basilica, the Palace of Constantinople and Topaki Palace. As you walk downstairs into the dark, dank chamber, you get a creeping feeling of claustrophobia... the sensation that there's no way out. At a back corner of the cistern lies the head of Medusa flipped on her side. Eek. Wouldn't wanna get trapped down there with her!
  

As for my trip apart from historical landmarks goes...

Almost every night I was there Huseyin took me out with his cousin Ekrem to smoke shisha from water pipes. The water pipe, referred to as a hookah in the United States, is a single or multi-stemmed pipe used for smoking a moist mixture of fruit and tobacco. Within the hookah the smoke is cooled and filtered by passing through water, making it smooth and pain-free to smoke. Hookah smoking originated in India and is popular all over the Middle East. It is a delicious treat that I really enjoy... especially in Turkey, where the pipes are made of brass, resulting in a tastier, smoother, smoking experience. My favorite flavor there was a mint/rose mix. During my time there I also learned how to play backgammon-- many cafes (and even my hostel) have backgammon sets lying around for use. I was utterly surprised to see the popularity of the game there. There wasn't one place lacking a board.

While in Istanbul I took Elisa and Huseyin's engagement pictures. We went to this super beautiful park near the port of the city, a park covered with tall trees and fall leaves. It was a cloudy, rainy day... perfect for taking engagement photos. While I was testing lighting, Huseyin took Elisa more than a few steps away from me and formally proposed! (Story goes, they had previously had a conversation where they agreed to marry each other, but up until this point, Elisa still didn't have a ring, and he still hadn't formally "popped the question.") I was quite honored to be right around the corner for the big moment and I, by a stroke of luck, caught the moment via my beloved Canon as best I could.

Elisa's parents arrived on Sunday afternoon and we went straight to Huseyin's family's house. We were warmly welcomed with an absolutely fabulous home-made Turkish meal, which consisted of a spicy meat dish, lentil soup, fried rice with rice noodles, salad and bread. We gorged oourselves (or, I did, at least) and then enjoyed a cup of Turkish coffee and language-barrier style conversation. Using Huseyin and laughter as interpreters, we got along just fine. Later that night we celebrated Huseyin and Elisa's engagement with a formal dinner. I spent the evening next to Huseyin's mom, brothers, and sister-in-law. As rounds and rounds of Turkish appetizers were served, it was a treat to watch Huseyin's mom and sister-in-law pick at the food and make gross faces as they tried it. Omer, Huseyin's English-speaking brother, let me know that they were well aware that they cook way better food than even the fanciest Turkish restaurant. And, considering his mom is officially the cook of the best meal I've eaten in my life- I'm not so surprised that restaurant food seems third tier in her book. After this trip I am a true believer in the power of laughter... laughter can cross any language and any border... I speak not one word of Turkish, nor does Huseyin's mom speak one word of English, but we had an extremely fulfilling conversation through that entire meal.

Now, for the final touch to my Turkey entry, a video of Huseyin proclaiming, "Holy moly!" at the market. When Huseyin asked me about how my Spanish life was going for me and how I enjoyed my apartment and roommates, obviously the "Holy moly" story had to come up. As consequence, the "Holy moly" proclamation is no longer only a Spanish-American phenomenon, as it now has a Turkish twist to it as well. Huseyin's brother Omer actually started referring to me as "Holy Moly" (instead of... you know... my real name... Molly) by the end of my visit. Silly!!

The world is pretty sweet.

Catholic parades and Sunday escapades

Last weekend was a non-stop party. Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday all involved fiestas that did not end until long after Minnesota bar close. Instead of going through a long and detailed process of how and why each evening went until sunrise, I’ll point out the highlights.

VOCABULARY LESSON 2: Catholicism

La virgen- The virgin. As all of you probably know, the Catholic faith worships virgins, and in Spain, every city, every "pueblo" (town/village) has their own patron saint or virgen.

¡La virgen!- An expression Spanish people say when they are surprised by something. They exclaim: THE VIRGIN!!

La virgen de la cabeza- The patron virgin of Jaén. She lives in a sanctuary in a pueblo of Jaén called Andujar. (Side note: I live in the city of Jaén, which is the capital of the province of Jaén.)

On Saturday we left our apartment for the first time in the late evening to go to a soccer game. On our way out, we found hundreds of people crowding the streets starting at the cathedral and trailing all the way down to the soccer field (a good 8 or 9 blocks). We started asking random people on the street what was going on, and they all told us that la virgen was coming to Jaén for the first time. La virgen?? We thought this was strange but didn't think much of it. After the soccer game, while walking home, we found la virgen sitting atop a throne supported by thirty men being paraded down the street accompanied by music and chanting. “Viva la virgen!” (“Live the virgin!”) They paraded her all the way up to the cathedral where she will stay for a week so all the people of Jaén can go visit her… Check it out:

She is also referred to as la negrita (the little black woman) because she has a black face. After seeing the parade, we came home and realized that this strange mini-statue we found in our living room cabinets upon moving in is in fact la virgen de la cabeza!! Amy and I then celebrated this discovery with our own mini-parade around our living room:

VOCABULARY LESSON 2.4: Food

Aceitunas- Olives. Jaén produces 20% of the worlds olives, so olive oil (aceite de oliva) and olives flood the food here. It is, to say the least, a delicatessen.

Bocadillo- The Spanish staple... a sandwich with baguette bread and one or two ingredients. Usually ham and cheese or a mix of pureed tomato and olive oil.

Jamón serrano- Cured ham. They eat it all the time and with everything! It’s extremely thinly sliced, really salty, and super delicious!

Jamón y queso- Ham and cheese. You can get ham and cheese in/on anything/everything. It’s like their version of peanut butter and jelly.

Pata- Pig leg. Cafes that serve jamón serrano have pig legs hanging in the corner. They thinly slice it and serve them on bocadillos, or just plain on a plate. You can buy one for as cheap as 30 euro!

Pata negra- “Black” pig leg. It is the more expensive, classy, and delicious version of pata. I was told it’s more tasty because the pig owners exercise the pig and let it wander around free instead of in locking it up in a cage. Pata negra goes for 150 euro or more.

Tapa- In Jaén and select other cities in Southern Spain, it is tradition that when you order a drink (pop, beer or water) you get a piece of food to go along with it. With every drink you order, you get a different tapa. The tapa can vary from something as small as a plate of potato chips to shrimp, ham, or mini-sandwiches.

Tortilla española- A thick, hard omelet with simply egg and potato, onion if you're feeling fancy.

Highlights from the previous weekend mostly involve Sunday. Holly and I met up with a fellow teacher Manuel for “a” drink in his barrio (neighborhood) with his uncle around 1pm. His uncle- can’t remember his name- really reminds me of my uncle Tony. So, all afternoon, I referred to him as Tio Tony!! He found this quite entertaining. The afternoon started simply enough at a local café with a couple of beers and tapas, which quickly progressed in to three more glasses of wine and a copa (mixed drink). One of the biggest challenges I have yet to overcome with my Spanish language skills is joking! I cannot seem to understand or read Spanish people well enough to know if they are joking or being serious. This is also made harder by the fact that Spanish people are quite harsh with their words. Not sure how to explain this except that as a girl from Minnesota, accustomed to “Minnesota nice,” it is hard to not be offended when I talk and they respond with, “I didn’t understand one word you just said because of your accent!” or “You have been here a whole month and don’t know this word?!” Also, we have found that the Spanish do not play with their tone of voice. In America, when making a joke, we may elevate or lower our tone of voice, playing with sounds and facial expressions. The Spanish seem quite monotone, and when joking, their expressions don’t really give it away. At one point during our afternoon of drinks, Manuel and Tio Tony started joking about the bar owners sister, saying she was going to stop by to say hi to us, and that we should be forewarned that she is really ugly. They warned us that she is a puta (prostitute) and that she has had a hard time finding business since she started her work. Because of monotone voices, lack of facial expressions, the bar owner looking quite offended, and perhaps the number of drinks involved, I totally bought it. They continued by saying that she is known as la fea de Jaén (the ugly woman of Jaén) and that parents threaten their kids with a beso (kiss) from la fea if they don’t finish their dinner… That she is so ugly her baby incubator was tinted… That the priest baptized her with a squirt gun because she was so ugly he wouldn’t touch her… That she learned how to walk alone because she was so ugly no one would touch her… I think by the priest part I realized they were joking around. Soon enough I’ll pick up on the whole joking factor. I can only hope that it won't always take me so long to figure it out! 

Later on, still at the same place, I mentioned to the owner that Holly wants to get a job in a bar/café… soon after Holly was kidnapped into the back kitchen. When I went to find her, she was adorned with an apron, washing dishes. “Holly, why are you washing dishes?!” I asked. “I have absolutely no idea!! I couldn’t understand them!” Want to see the action live? Check it out here:

The afternoon turned into evening, and then night, and before you know it we weren’t home until 2am! “A” drink turned into a 13 hour escapade. Only in Spain, only in Spain! Today, Holly made tortilla española for dinner, I am happy!!

Saludos,
Molly

Málaga & Córdoba

On Thursday the 22nd we finally moved into our apartment. We picked a place in the center of the city on a pedestrian back-street with an absolutely picturesque view of the cathedral and the street below. The apartment is quite big, it has three bedrooms (one room has two beds), two bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, patio and a balcony all for 500 Euro a month, meaning rent is a measly $250 a month per person. There are some setbacks to the apartment… like it lacks an oven (which we did not notice until we bought a frozen pizza and had nowhere to cook it but the stove top), the TV is quite small and fuzzy, a couple of the doors and the door to the refrigerator don’t close quite right, there is almost non-existent storage room in the kitchen and the bathrooms, and there’s no light in one of the bathrooms… but these are all minor details that the landlady agreed to fixing. Her and her husband bought us a new flat-screen TV, they ordered an electrician to fix the lighting, and they are allowing us to buy all new pots and pans along with more storage space. We did not, however, ask for an oven. The picture to the left is the view from my balcony.

The first weekend we had our apartment we decided to take a little weekend trip. For the weekend Holly and I decided to go to Málaga, a beach town that is supposed to be really beautiful and relaxing. Well, Málaga was kind of a dirty dump with not much to do or see besides the beach, which we never made it to (I will explain why later).

It was Halloween. Upon arriving we went to an internet cafe to try and find a hostel. We left behind my absolutely favorite green sweater and Holly's cell phone. Once we got checked into the hostel and realized we had left her cell behind, I called it to hear some shady dude at the other end claiming he was a "friend" of the cell phone owner. I challenged him, "No, you stole my friends phone," and he agreed to meet us at the bus station in ten minutes to return it. For some reason, we believed him, and went to the bus station. Of course, he wasn't there and he had shut the phone off so we couldn't call him back. So we spent the first two or three hours of the trip 1. Trying to get Holly's phone back and 2. Trying to buy her a new phone. Great start to our beach-town vacation. Afterwards we headed to an over-priced Picasso museum with not so exciting pieces of his art (his best works are all in Barcelona and Madrid). By this time, it was too late to go to the beach, so we decided to nap and then start drinking for Halloween. We painted our faces, I was a cat, and Holly was a cat victim, and we headed out to the botellón in the middle of a park about only 1 block from our hostel. Everyone was dressed up in scary costumes- I think they were better at dressing up for Halloween than Americans actually are. Eventually, somewhere between botellón and going back to the hostel, I lost the hostel keys (not sure how I managed that). In the morning, I vomited bile, eww, and when I told Holly the news she wisely proclaimed, "Let’s cut our losses and go to Córdoba instead." "Yes, definitely." The bus left at 4pm and so we wandered around the streets and parks of Malaga like hung over homeless people.

Our arrival in Córdoba was quite pleasant. Córdoba is up for the “2016 European Capital of Culture” and I would not be surprised if it won. The entire city is sparkling clean and very well put together. There are historical sites and green parks… the city is just a nice place to be in general. Córdoba is famous for La Mezquita, meaning The Mosque in English. The building and place where it stands has quite a bit of history to it. The first religious site to stand there was the Christian Visigoth church of St. Vincent, built in the year 600. Muslims started invading Southern Spain in 711, which led Muslims to tear down the church and build a mosque in its place in 784, finishing its construction in 987. In 1236, Córdoba was reconquered by Spain and the inside of the mosque was partially transformed into a Catholic church. The mosque is now famous for its jasper columns and it’s oddly placed catholic nave smack in the middle. It was, to say the least, absolutely strange and extremely intriguing.

Our trip to Córdoba also included a trip to the Arab baths. The baths were an extremely relaxing experience—three different rooms with three different temperatures. There was a (very) cold bath, a room temp bath, and an (extremely) hot bath. There was also a sauna and a 15 minute massage included. It was a great way to end our day in Córdoba and head back to Jaén.

Now, it turns out that my massive hangover and dehydration Sunday resulted in a clogged, bacteria infected salivary gland on Monday. My upper jaw, below my right ear, swelled to the size of a golf ball within a couple of days. It's fair to say it's immensely swollen and painful, but it seems to be improving with the aid of a good dental specialist and antibiotics. We could say that I am going to avoid Malaga for as long as humanly possible.

Hasta pronto!
Molly

Castillo de Alhabar

Cambil

Wednesday, October 20th was our first trip to Cambil, a tiny town of only 3,000 people nested between the mountains. We hopped on a bus at noon and enjoyed the half an hour ride, as it was accompanied by a scenic view the whole way, through hills and mountains dotted with olive trees. Jaén and the surrounding areas are known for their olive groves and olive oil. They are jam-packed with green olives which are comparable in shape and size to the black kalamata olives from Greece. I have been eating them like crazy and even bought a two liter bottle of them at the grocery store the other day. Who knew olives could be so tasty?! They are worlds apart from the canned olives they sell in Minnesota. It has been interesting ingesting so many olives and so much olive oil-- Amy, Holly and I have noticed the increased grease in our skin and hair since arriving, gross!

Castillo de Alhabar

When we arrived to Cambil we walked into the school, Castillo de Alhabar, not knowing exactly where to go or who to talk to. We ended up finding a classroom of little kids and a teacher who attempted to speak English to us as she lead us to the principal’s office. It seemed as though everyone was expecting us and we were warmly welcomed by all the teachers and staff. The school is right in the “center” of Cambil and consists of a bunch of little buildings within a fenced area. Each building is for a certain grade. There is also an outdoor basketball court where they have gym class and recess. Holly is working with elementary school students, from pre-school age (3 years) to sixth grade. I am working with middle school students between the ages of 13-15. I will be working only Tuesdays and Wednesdays with a number of different classes, both English and Natural Science, all at different levels in English. Spaniards are known for their poor English skills, and I can now see where the problem begins. Spanish people who teach English do not seem to speak English all that well. They teach children the correct grammar, but with a very heavy Spanish accent. The first day I sat in on class, there were things the teacher said in English that I could not understand. It is kind of funny… the kids can understand their Spanish English teacher, but not me. It seems like Spain needs to be importing more native English language teachers. Because Holly and I only work 12 hours a week, and we get only one hour a week with each class, it is not like we will be having a huge impact on these kids English language skills. We’ll see, though.

Off I am again on yet another adventure...

Hello friends and family!

Here’s the story of how I got to where I am now…
Last April I applied to be a “Language and Culture Assistant” through the Spanish Ministry of Education. To my dismay, I was waitlisted and told I would be contacted if they found a placement for me. So passed May, June, July, August and half of September when I received an email from the program asking me if I was willing to up and move to Spain ASAP. So, sure, why not?! I accepted the position and would soon be living and working in Jaén, Spain. I arrived to Jaén the evening of Thursday October 15th after waaay too many hours of travel. It all started with my late check-in at the Minneapolis airport, which caused me to miss my first flight out. After some frustrated tears and phone calls with my dad, I successfully flew to Chicago, Atlanta and Madrid without any problems. After a good five hour layover in Madrid I took a four hour train ride to Jaén. There waiting for me my two fellow American English teachers, Holly and Amy. Holly and I will be teaching assistants at the same school is a small town outside of Jaén called Cambil. Amy arrived early October and is all settled in and is already teaching. We are staying with her until we find our own place.

Center of Jaén

I was extremely motivated to get to Jaén by Thursday because of the “Feria San Lucas,” the biggest party and festival of the year. There is a carnival with rides and food, bull fighting, and lots and lots of partying. Before I continue this story, let’s begin with

VOCABULARY LESSON 1: Party Terms

Botellón- A street/park party. Groups of friends bring a bottle of booze, liters of pop, ice and plastic cups, and make "cubatas" in the streets. Deemed illegal a few years ago... doesn’t matter.
Caña- A “short” beer, ridiculously small, approximately one cup of beer. Literally one cup.
Caseta- Oversized white tents at the fair which house either discotecas, bars, or food stands.
Chupito- Shot
Cubata- Mixed drink
Discoteca- Dance club and bar
Feria- A city’s fair. Usually celebrates a city’s patron saint. Celebrated with carnival, parades, dancing, drinking.
Torero- Bullfighter
Tubo- A “tall” beer, still pretty small, approximately two cups of beer.

Friday night we went to botellón. We got a bottle of vodka, some heavily carbonated pop called “kas,” ice and cups and headed to the park at midnight with some Spanish people Amy previously met. Around 3am we went to the feria, where we proceeded to walk around to different casetas for food and dancing. We ended up home around 8am.

Saturday at 11am we awoke for grand apartment search number one. We zombied around town for a few hours and then slept the rest of the day away. What should have been night number two at the feria turned into watching “He’s Just Not That Into You” on my laptop instead. That’s OK, sleep was much needed.

Sunday was a very Spanish experience, as I attended my first bullfight with Holly. Every bullfight consists of six bulls, divided between three "toreros." The first kill was extremely difficult to watch-- I got a bit nauseous and upset, almost considered leaving after the first one. The Spaniards around us seemed almost more entertained by our reactions to the fight than to the fight itself. The man next to us knew all the rules and the techniques to bullfighting, and talked us through the remaining fights. By the end, instead of it appearing to be a ruthless bull killing- it started to look like a sport… which is kind of crazy considering I have always thought of bullfighting as a disgusting tradition that should be long over by now. We will see how much farther down generations the tradition will pass.

We have been apartment searching since. Because of this, every day of the week blurs between long spells of walking, eating, and debating apartment options with the aid of numerous napkin pro-con lists. We finally picked an apartment today. Holly and I will be living with a random Peruvian student in the center of Jaén, a pretty large apartment with a great location. The apartment faces winding pedestrian made of a burnt orange marble. Our lobby is lined with mosaics, the balcony overlooks the backstreets and the three bedrooms are accompanied by two bathrooms, a large living room, and a makeshift patio in the middle of the building.

And the adventure has just begun…