Soccer with the Colombians

So I was staring forlornly out of my window in the Residence when I saw to kids kicking a soccer ball around. Having recently attempted to take the 'might as well try it' approach to study abroad (and drugs?[no not drugs]) I threw on my cleats and pants, grabbed my gloves and headed out. I was already wearing a shirt for those keeping score. I wandered to the field, and asked them if they needed a goalie. They did, took shots at me, I proved worthy, and half an hour later was taking part in a full-sided game...with all of the Colombians in Avila. It was one of the odder demographics to be interacting with, 2 or three generations worth of mediocre soccer and only one generation worth of defense (the stalwart grandfathers). Needless to say it was a lot of fun, and they have invited the great gringo goalkeeper to their weekly scrimmages!

Andalucia--but not really

Last weekend I went for five days to Andalucia (southern Spain) to explore the history and cultures of the three famous towns there: Cordoba, Sevilla, and Granada. However, while this was a great trip, there really wasn't that much eye-opening or new that you wouldn't see in anyone else's pictures. Yes we saw the great mosque, the ghettos, the courtyards, and a flamenco show, but I want to share more of what has been happening in Avila. And so for those who want to know more about Andalucia take a look at my pictures:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=153375&id=563922118&l=f4f2c1a040
and
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=153377&id=563922118&l=525b786f33

I culled them down from over 500, so don't moan about how many there are!

Post questions or comments on this blog or on the pictures and I'll get back to you with more info on anything that piques your interest!

Best Weekend So Far--Melissa's Visit and Madrid

Best Weekend:

• Saw girlfriend for first time in 4 months
• had a beautiful 2 year anniversary with her featuring sunset over medieval walled city and fancy dinner
• Went to Madrid to see what we could see
• Prado: art museum featuring el Greco, Goya, and Velasquez
• Guernica
• Bullfight!

For Lots of Pictures of Melissa's visit: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=151211&id=563922118&l=ee633f139b

For Lots of pictures of Madrid and the bullfight : http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=151270&id=563922118&l=ded72e62de

I will keep this brief becuase I am off to Andalucía (Sevilla, Cordoba, and Granada) for the weekend starting tomorrow.

This was a fantastic weekend. I met my girlfriend of two years Melissa at the train station in Avila, and spent the evening showing her the town. We wandered the ancient medieval streets and followed the path of the walls until we came to a fantastic vista that my professor had showed me. We stayed there for half an hour as the sun set over the cathedral and walls of Avila, and then wandered our way back into the city for a wonderful dinner of roast suckling pig and steak. I also for the first time ever had beer with my meal, its nice being legal but I still don't get what all the hype is about.

After spending the night in the extra room of my very generous American friends' apartment, we headed into Madrid through the Spanish countryside. There we met up with Melissa's traveling companions, a cheerful duo from the US. Together we exhaustively explored the Prado museum, which included many amazing works of art, but featured the most moving picture I have ever seen: Goya's

"The Shootings of May 3rd in Madrid, 1814"
There was also another one of my new favorite paintings, Colussus (possibly by Goya)

We then found ourselves a lovely spot for lunch and exhausted the rest of the day exploring Madrid.

We also ran into the 'Dia de Hispanidad' parade. This is Columbus Day as seen by the conquerors, not by the conquered. Each Spanish-speaking country has a float or dance group in a massive mile-long parade featuring music and dancing and flags and dancing. It was a pretty cool thing to just run into. Thanks for finding us Columbus, it was really important. Here is the Colombian Float featuring a band on top of a semi truck:

That evening Melissa and I met up with several other Carleton students studying in Madrid. It was really nice to get to see them again, and very odd to be talking about Carleton things in a pub in Madrid Spain! However, a damper was put on the night when one of my good friends Caitlin was pickpocketed in the bar, including the keys to her home-stay!

Madrid is a bustling city, especially its partying districts. As Melissa and I wandered our way back to our hotel/hostel we ran across clubs and bars that were just getting started at 3 in the morning, and many kids pregaming at Botellones in the street. We, however, elected for some churros con chocolate, a must!

The next day was more art, including Guernica, but the highlight was the bullfight. After meeting up with more Carls for coffee we learned of a bullfight that afternoon, and promptly made our way over to the very-Arab-styled bull ring. I could go into great depth about the fight and such, but I merely want to say this. The matadors are not the bad asses--it’s the guys who have neither sword, nor cape, nor horse, nor shield, but only insane bull dodging agility. I mean this guy:

After the fight we explored the Parque de Retiro, basically Madrid's central park, and then I had sprint back to the station to catch a train. All in all a fantastic weekend.

"Botellon" --defined as a massive out door drinking party

Friday night: botellon
Saturday day: sleep
Saturday night: Spanish movie
Sunday: complain about homework and waste time by blogging.

Well this weekend was my first truly Spanish one. On Friday night I attended a 'Botellon' (derived from botella meaning bottle) at a large park near the monastery at which I was staying. Initially in the company of only a couple of the undergrads I live with, we met up with one more and her entire tourism class in the park. In a fun twist of I don't know what half of her class was Chinese! (The very same Chinese who share a Spanish language class with me).

Sidenote on Spanish schedule of a party night:
Dinner at 9-10
Shower and do make up for 2 hours
Leave to drink in park at midnight
Socialize in park for 3 hours
at 3 AM relocate to bar/club
At 5 consider going home
At 6 start doing so
at 7 sleep
at 2 in afternoon the following day have new friends pound on door/head to wake you up for dinner.

Back to the botellon:
One of the great things about hanging out with people studying tourism is that they are psyched to meet any American/English speaker. They also are very nice about complimenting my Spanish, I assume so that I am reminded to talk slowly in english:)

The botellon is essentially what I imagine a slightly tamer version of fraternity row in, say, the University of Arizona is like, lots of distinct groups of people in clusters drinking and chatting. I would try to do a compare contrast of the club as well, but what with my youthful inexperience/being under 21 I have never been in one in the States!

Saturday was far more mundane, which is certainly for the best. Jen and I have met a British girl named Millie from Manchester at the monastery and spent the day with her at the shopping mall, where I did my best gay best friend impression as long as I could but eventually had to escape from the clothes shopping. The shopping mall was creepily similar to one in the states, if it wasn't for language and tighter jeans I would not have known the difference!

That night we returned to the shopping center with the help of one of my friends from English class and watched 'El Secreto de tus Ojos' which is a remarkably disturbing Argentinean film about a police investigation of a murder/rape/law and order SVU at its worst. And yet it was a good movie, if I didn't catch all of the words the Argentinean accent was at least comforting!

And so here is Sunday, with half an hour till lunch and no desire to study the ever-present and ever-mundane difference between ser and estar. I would complain, but as my Spanish friends point out, there is a whole lot more hard stuff in English than in Spanish.

And as a closing thought, this was the last thing I expected to find in a small town in catholic Spain: a condom vending machine.