#23: La Vida Mexicana

Welcome back dear readership!

My hiatus ended up being longer than expected... it's been almost a month since my last update.  I was at home for 3 weeks, and was supposed to fly to Mérida, Mexico on February 10th... but there were complications, and I arrived a day later to meet the class.  We stayed in a lovely hotel for two nights before departing on a van tour of the region on Sunday, February 13th.

But I guess I should start with a more thorough explanation of what I'm doing in Mexico:  study abroad.  My college was recently ranked #2 in the nation for the number of undergraduates studying abroad, with most of us going more than once.  (The school that beat us has mandatory study abroad in order to fulfill graduation requirements.)   So after my 3-week stint in Barcelona, I'm now spending about 80 days in southern Mexico in the Yucatan, that little finger peninsula that sticks out into the Gulf of Mexico.

There are 10 students from my school who are part of my group, myself included.  Our college bought a house in the center of town (El Centro), where our program director/professor, Núria, and her husband John (whom we affectionately call Don Juan) live and we have classes.  Our school has also hired several local professors to teach classes and act as local guides around town.

 Part of the backyard at the school/house: pool

 poolhouse

 patio and garden #2

again, patio and garden #2 (forgot pic of garden #1)

All 10 of us have homestays here in Merida.  We will live with a Mexican host family so that we can better learn the language and the culture, as well as have people to explore the city with.  The classes offered are Humanities (learning about the culture of the region and the Mayan people), Art History, Anthropology, and varying levels of Spanish.  I'm taking the Humanities, Art History, and two Spanish classes--one on Mexican literature and another on Latin American culture in general.  I also have an independent study for my French senior seminar, to ensure that I graduate on time.

Because of growing concerns over the safety of Mexico in general and for American students in particular, my school placed us only with upper-middle class families to ensure that we live in safe neighborhoods with full amenities.  My host family falls into this category.  Our house is two stories, with at least 5 bedrooms, a kitchen, formal dining room, breakfast nook, formal living room, and family room.  Each bedroom has its own en suite bathroom and there's a half-bath downstairs for guests.  The entire house has marble tile floors, and the upper level has a wraparound balcony with access to the bedrooms.

I have my own room here, and it's very nice.  It was formerly the daughters' room (more on the family dynamics later).  I have two twin beds, a desk and chair, a vanity, two more chairs for company, three nightstands, and a built in armoire all for me to use! (There's also another armoire and a closet in here.)  My bathroom has a toilet and bidet, and a shower/tub with a seat.  I have a key to a little drawer that locks (to hold my important stuff), my bedroom itself, and a house key to let myself in and out.  All of the furniture in my room are antiques.  My room is very well lit and with good ventilation, which is great because the house doesn't have air conditioning!

My host family has been very welcoming.  My host mom, Mama Mili, and her husband are retired.  (Yesterday was my host dad's birthday, so I'm trying to see if we will throw him some sort of fiesta.)  They have 3 grown kids, two daughters and a son.  The son is single and lives here at least part time, in a bedroom off the kitchen.  I think I've met both daughters, who are married with kids of their own.  The oldest daughter has two sons, ages 8 and 11.  The youngest daughter just had a little girl 7 months ago.

There's also an older lady who lives here, who (I think) is my host dad's twin sister, but I also think that Mama Mili's aunt may live here as well.  (Will attempt to confirm this eventually.)  There's a Mayan housekeeper, Linda, who is also Mama Mili's secretary/personal assistant.  She's worked for the family for 23 years.  Finally, there's a teenaged boy who works around the house doing laundry, setting the table, and other tasks.  (He may be Linda's grandson--again, will try to confirm.)  As far as I know, Linda and the young man don't live here.

Oh, and if that isn't confusing enough, there are also 2 other students here!  They're high school students from California, and their class took a trip to Mérida for 10 days and they all have homestays in pairs or triples.  They'll be here until Sunday.  They leave for class activities before I'm awake and come home to sleep late in the evening, so I've only met them once so far (last night at dinner).  They share the bedroom across the hall.

So, I think that's a good place to leave off for now.  I'm going to get ready for an outing with the class and our host moms... we leave at about 4 to meet for 5.  Hasta luego!

#22: Reflections before Hiatus

Today, Sunday is my last full day in Europe.  Everyone in class is hunkered down in our hotel rooms, working hard on our final term paper due on Tuesday night by email.  I've had an amazing time during my month's stay, and I can't even begin to say how grateful I am that I've had this opportunity.

Now that all of the entries are again up to date, feel free to look over my last photo album here (updated with 80 new pictures over the past 4 days).  Also, here are the first four albums: four three two one.

I'm going to be signing off for about a week so that I can unpack, relax with my family, and repack to move to Mexico--what a short week!  It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again, even if just for a little while.  Until my next departure flight--keep well readership and see you soon!

#21: FC Barcelona

Saturday morning we were supposed to have a cava tour (cava is a champagne-like drink made here in Catalonia) but unfortunately, only 4 people showed up at the appointed time--not enough for the tour.  Instead I worked on my paper for class and had an early dinner with Ellen before the FC Barcelona game.  Our college purchased the tickets for us and will bill them to our student accounts in the spring, but unfortunately the tickets weren't all together--they were in twos and threes around the stadium.  Most people were at least in the same section but a few rows apart, if they weren't sitting directly next to each other.

On the Jumbotron:  FC Barcelona versus Real Racing

I'm not much of a soccer person, but you can't say you've been to Barcelona and didn't see a Barça game.  Soccer is practically a religion, and a game at Camp Nou (the name of the stadium) is like a fellowship.  On the metro to get to the match, there were a large number of Germans in town for the game.  At the stadium, I also ran into Brits, French, Americans, Portuguese...  everybody loves Barça.

Here are the rules to be a successful FC Barcelona spectator:

1)  There is no team better than Barça.

2)  There is NO TEAM better than Barça.

3)  Wear your team spirit in the form of a jersey, scarf, hat, flag, lap blanket, or facepaint. Don't be ashamed.

4)  When someone makes a goal, you stand up to cheer, shout and clap.  Lack of participation is only acceptable if you are elderly, pregnant, or looking for a good beatdown after the match.

5)  When anyone on the team makes a goal, you chant their name a few times to show your pleasure.

6)  When someone on the pitch makes a good play but is unsuccessful, clap anyway.

7)   Learn the chants and songs before you attend.  You will hear them A LOT.

8)   Be prepared to do the wave.  For no apparent reason, we did the wave 4 times before it died out.

9)  If you don't know anything about soccer, pay attention to the reactions of the people around you during plays.  A good play will be capped by a "Mol ve!" (Very good!).  A bad call by a ref will be followed by a string of swear words, booing and sulking.  Take note of the swear words--they are very florid and may come in handy during later matches.  

10)  Notice I didn't say a bad play by Barcelona.  THERE ARE NO BAD PLAYS BY BARCELONA.

Rule #3 in full effect! Go Barça!!

Barça wins 3-0! Underneath the crest are the names of the 3 players that made goals.

Travel tips:  To be polite, ask your questions in Spanish but don't be surprised when most people say "I don't speak Spanish."  A large population at each game are tourists just like you.  Ladies, go to the bathroom whenever you like--even halftime.  The best part about being at a male-dominated activity is that there are no long lines for the restroom.  Before you enter the stadium, buy souvenirs you're interested in from the street vendors.  They may be pricey, but it's very hard to cross through a stream of 100,000 people to find what you want after the match.  Same goes for food--buy snacks before the game while the lines aren't long.  In fact, we arrived about an hour before the match and there was still a sizeable crowd (although nobody tailgates, from what i've seen).  It was perfect because I had time to find the seats, get a snack, and figure out where the restrooms were before the bulk of the spectators arrived.

Above all: BE EXTRA VIGILANT.  With thousands of people getting on and off the metro at various stops and huge, thick crowds, pickpocketing is at an all time high after Barça games.  It's so simple for someone to bump you while trying to squeeze into the train car or for a stray hand to steal your ticket or cash from your purse walking through the crowds.  Although I did take my satchel with me, my hand was directly covering the zipper at all times and I didn't put anything in my coat or pants pockets.  But sometimes even that isn't enough--one girl's wristlet was stolen off her arm as she tried to get onto a crowded metro train.  With so many people everywhere, it's impossible to see who did what or where they went, so just be careful.

#20: Sitges and the Castellers

Friday morning a small group met for breakfast and joined Julie and Patrice for some mini-vacation time in Sitges, a beach resort town not far from Barcelona.  Paige, Becca, Laura, Ellen, Bethany, myself and the professors took the metro to one of the main hubs and transferred to the train that took us out of town.

Sitges is a very, very beautiful area.  In the off season, it was a quiet and idyllic little area with beautful beaches (nine, to be exact), nice landscape, and lots of friendly people walking their dogs.  Even though it's January, the weather was sunny and cooperative, so it felt fairly warm (close to 60*F).  We walked through town and down the beach for a mile or so, then found lunch at a sandwich shop and sat on the beach to enjoy it.  We all shed our winter coats and shoes to roll up our jeans and soak our feet in the (brisk!) water, or just snuggle our toes in the sand while we worked on journal entries and presentations.  Of course, we took lots of pictures!  On our way back to the train station, we met an American couple from Oklahoma.  They visit Spain every year, but Catalonia is their favorite region.

 reclining on the beach wall--i had to be careful not to fall in!

 View back down the beach.  That wall was where the previous picture was taken.

Isn't the water just gorgeous? I bet that's the inspiration for the crayon color cerulean.

It was almost a bit of a shock to be back in the city after just 35 minutes by rail, into the hustle and bustle of crowds after a slow afternoon next to the sea.  I've heard that Sitges is really popping during the summer months, when all the giant tourist crowds come in and the clubs open.  According to Wikipedia, the area is very expensive to live in, which explains why we didn't see many people in our age range--most residents were retirees.  I wouldn't mind returning to Sitges again--same time of year--as another adventure.

That evening, the class went to watch the Castellers (cas-tell-yays) practice.  The art of making the castell (tower) comes from a traditional dance in Catalunya that eventually evolved into a modern feat of acrobatics.  The first castellers were all men, but now the practice is opened to women as well.

Basically, the tower starts from the bottom up.  You need a group of people en masse to be the base, or the pinya.  Typically they form a roundish shape highlighted by access rows of very strong people.  The access rows form most of the support and structure for the tower, and is 10 or so people deep.  Each person pushes on the back of the person in front of him/ her with his/her head down (to prevent neck strain).  The combined strength of the group helps keep the tower upright.

There's the pinya, with a coach looking on

The people in the access rows also are like human stairs.  The first layer of castellers will climb up this human staircase to the middle, where the heart of the pinya holds them upright.  The people in the heart of the pinya tend to be strong, stout men.  The subsequent layers of people climb up the first person on their part of the tower and stands barefoot on the sides of his neck, directly on the muscle--too far out onto the shoulder can cause injury.  This is why the heart of the pinya must be strong--they hold the weight of the tower--and why the pinya itself provides support, to make sure that they hold the inner men upright.  On the ground is a coach who assesses each layer before the next can ascend (but very quickly!) to make sure that the structure of bodies remains safe.  In order to be a member of the team, the coach and criers (the people who direct each formation) must know your exact height, weight and strength tolerance to ensure that you are in the best place to support the tower.

The man at the end of his access row is the first "stair", as two upper-level girls practice their grip.

The top person on the tower is usually a small child, between the ages of 3 and 8, I believe.  They are usually the best at climbing up and adjusting quickly.  The tower is "complete" when the child stands up and puts a hand in the air.  The children wear helmets in case of falls, because at that point the tower is about three stories in the air.  Once the child has given the signal of completion, he or she climbs back down the opposite side just as quickly, and the tower disassembles from the top down.  This is usually the hardest part of the event, where the most injuries can occur.  In recorded history there have only been 3 deaths, thank goodness, and usually at competitions where the towers can be 8 or 9 layers [5-6 stories] high.

A completed 5-layer tower (the heart of the pinya can't be seen) reaching up 3 stories tall!

The best part of this event was that after we watched a few demonstrations, the castellers let any of us who were interested take part.  Most of us were part of the pinya on the outside, providing structural support, but a few lucky people got to practice being a base or climbing up each other to form second and third layers.  (From what they said, it was hard work!)

Bethany as the third level of a practice tower

Even though I only participated a few times as part of the pinya, I really must say that you feel like you're part of something the instant you walk towards the group.  Part of the tradition in tower-building is the sense of community--everyone plays a role in making the tower a success.  People take turns being criers (giving setup directions for each formation), outer pinya, inner pinya, access rows, first layer, second layer... everything.  Even the little kids take turns being at the top of the tower.  It's not so much about competition as it is about unity.  If you join a casteller club with your family, the younger children are trained to climb and be the top of the tower (some of the best kids had only been in the program  two weeks!).  As they get older, they descend a level, supporting someone else on their shoulders until eventually, they become part of the pinya.  There were four year olds at the top of the tower, and there were 70-year old grandparents in the pinya, with every age represented in between.  Inside the facility, there was also a small bar where families could buy a speedy dinner and watch their relatives practice from the 2nd floor.  One of the women who was giving us tips had seen her daughter go from being at the top of the tower to part of the pinya, and her grandchildren were now training to be at the top.

I don't know if such a sport would go over well in the States.  We're far too individualistic to work on something so complex, where so much trust is needed between parties to succeed.  There's also too much  competition involved in our sports as well--there wasn't a pushy parent insisting that their child was the best, or trying to "encourage" their child to be the one on top all the time.  There was no "star member" of the team who was involved in every tower or had the same position.  It was all about teamwork, rotation, and mutual collaboration so that everyone could be involved.  It was a wonderful atmosphere and a great example of the Catalan spirit.

#19: Universitat Barcelona

On Thursday morning we took the metro to the Universitat Barcelona to meet with Professor David Casals.  Professor Casals gave us a great presentation about the importance of linguistic diversity within Spain and around the world.  For instance, did you know that there are over 6000 languages in the world, but fewer than 300 of those languages have over 1 million speakers?  Can you name the top 10?  (Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, English, Hindi, Arabic, Bengali, Portuguese, Russian, Japanese and German.  French comes in at #16.)  96% of the world's languages are spoken by only 4% of the world's population--isn't that crazy?  If the world were represented in a room of 100 people that knew 100 languages, 4 of those people would know 24 languages EACH (96 languages total), while the other 96 people in the room would know one to four of the last four remaining languages.  (If you're reading this blog, you're one of the 96 people who only knows 1-4 of the "main" languages.)  In fact, half of the world's languages are concentrated in 8 nation-states (or "countries", if that's better for you): Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Nigeria, India, Mexico, Cameroon, Australia and Brazil.

In fact, some linguists (essentially, language scientists) are afraid that by the year 2100, half the world's languages will be extinct.  Not dead, like Latin, where nobody speaks it daily but it's recorded in books.  Extinct, like the dinosaurs, with little to no written record and nobody left who understands the language or knows its history.  Why?  Since the era of exploration began (circa 1300s), the conquerors forced their language upon the indigenous cultures they found.  Indigenous speakers of these rare languages were killed by disease, war, famine, or maybe as they learned the new "main" language, they stopped speaking in their native tongue and didn't carry the tradition on with their children.  Of course, most of these languages didn't have written records, and those that did were usually destroyed, sometimes singlehandedly:  If you get some free time, look up bishop Diego de Landa and the Mayan language.  In order to convert the Mayans to Christianity, he ordered the destruction of every Mayan book and school in the region.  While he half-heartedly attempted to "record" some of the written glyphs through transliteration, it still didn't change the fact that 500 years later, there are only four original Mayan books in the world and centuries went by before anyone could decipher the language again.

So where does Catalan factor in in all of this?  Well, Catalan is the co-official language of Catalonia (along with Castillian Spanish, known as castellano here).  It is not, however, recognized officially by the country of Spain.  The European Union has a policy that if a country is admitted to the Union, any and all of their official languages are also made to be official languages of the Union and acceptable for any political discourse and interaction at the international level.  Spain's only officially recognized language is Spanish, so Catalan more or less doesn't count to the EU.

Look at it this way:  Catalan has about 10 million speakers, most of which are concentrated in and around Barcelona, Spain's most prosperous city.  By contrast, the island nation of Malta has 400,000 Maltese speakers (the other official language is English), and Maltese is an official language of the EU.

The good news is that in 2005, Catalan was issued a "semi-official" status by the European Union.  All this means is that if Catalonia wants to draft a document to the EU, they can send it to Madrid (Spain's capital), who will translate it into Spanish so it will be accepted.  Of course, this is both a great hassle and a bone of contention for Madrid (remember, Spain wants to dissuade Catalonia away from their "silly little independence and recognition thing"), so it's easier to just stick with Spanish.  All of this would be made so much easier if Andorra just became a full member of the EU.  Since Andorra's official language for all state business is Catalan, Catalan would automatically be recognized fully (another bone of contention for Spain).  However, Andorra enjoys all the perks of being an EU ally without many of the bureaucratic regulations on industry, so that may not change anytime soon.

So what can you take away from all of this?  Be linguistically sustainable.  It's just ten very simple steps:
1) Respect all languages.
2) Observe and listen:  Take an interest in the languages around you.
3) Don't be afraid to learn new languages; they'll only ever help you.
4) Don't renounce the source(s) of knowledge that different languages present.
5) Give voice to minorities and listen to them.
6) Don't impose dominant languages, replant threatened languages.
7) A small market might be a great gateway--don't overlook anyone!
8) Practice linguistic diversity on your travels (use phrases from the host country).
9) Preserve your space of freedom:  No one can take your language from you if you don't want them to.
10) Don't exclude anyone from a language.

The last point is the most relevant for me.  Here in Catalonia, people are both shocked and excited when I greet them in a few basic Catalan words or am able to understand a phrase or two.  Language is the strongest bond that they all have to each other, and they are glad to share it with other interested people.  It's said that you aren't always born Catalonian, but you can become one:  live and work in the region, get to know the people and customs, and try to speak the language as best you can.  If you do that, the local people here will embrace an immigrant from another culture just as well as they would someone whose family has been here for generations.  I can't say the same for all languages or regions--some places have a defined ethnic identity with their language--but if you try just a little and show a real interest, people become a lot more hospitable just about anywhere.

#18: Meeting of the Minds

Hola, bon dia!  Or, bona nit, as the Catalans would say this time of evening.

Today the class and I went to a Catholic school to contrast the education system in France with the one here in Spain.  It was ok.  The kids weren't interactive like they were at the Bressola school, and our speaker was long on words and short on remembering that we're not native speakers and can't keep up with historical terms and dates that fast.  We toured a couple classrooms, observed some students at recess, and asked a few questions.

The exciting part of my day was going to visit Catalonian Parliament (hence the entry title).  We had been told in advance that this was a possibility on the itinerary, so we all had to pack one "nice" outfit (slacks or a skirt/dress, blouse, sweater or button down, and appropriate shoes).  We also had to bring our passports in order to enter.  For some reason, the Catalonian Parliament house is next door to the Barcelona Zoo (politics, zookeepers--I can see it).  However, it's a beautiful park--loaded with Audis.  Apparently Audi makes the official car for all Catalonian lawmakers.  We waited outside for the session to be finished, and we actually caught a glimpse of the Catalonian president, recently elected last month! It was all very low-key--no paparazzi or anything, just a couple journalists for local papers and legislative aides walking to their cars or having a smoke.  (Note: Everyone smokes in Europe.  Even the dogs.  And  in Andorra, our hotel was smoking-friendly, so be forewarned.)

The guide announced that the president was coming, we all readied our cameras...  He walked up to a car waiting on the curb, got in, and took off.  He didn't even "act" like a celebrity, just a guy leaving work for the day.  I was still adequately impressed, of course.

Señor Presidente!  Oh, I don't think he heard me.

The Parliament house was ritzy.  I've been to Congress as a kid, but it didn't leave nearly as much as an impression on me as the Parliament house did (then again, I wasn't paying attention back then).  EVERYTHING is marble and polished wood.  All the chairs are plush red velvet.  The draperies and area rugs look like something out of magazines.  And since most of the legislators left, it was quiet and we could peep in without being asked to leave.

We met with the current house leader, whose party of "independentists" are the majority right now.  His party believes that Catalonia should become its own nation independent from Spain.  It was interesting to hear his take on things.  I asked him "What do you think would happen to Spain if Catalonia left?"  Basically, Barcelona is the most prosperous city in Spain, and this entire region is doing the best economically--most of their taxes bankroll the rest of Spain right now.  Literally, Spain's economy would tank, possibly to almost third world status, nearly overnight if Catalonia seceded.

"Well, first Spain would not like it at all," he joked.  Basically, the politician's views are that the relationship between Spain and Catalonia has always been terse and it would be better if Catalonia moved on, took care of itself and remained political and economic allies with Spain. He cited Portugal as an example (back in like the 11th century Portugal was part of Spain for all of 39 minutes or so).  He also showed that Canada and Australia, while separate and independent nations, still cite their queen as the Queen of England (despite having completely different political systems and answering to their respective presidents).  Catalonians really like the King of Spain because whenever he comes to visit, he tries to speak in Catalan, which is a huge compliment to the people (remember, there are a generation of Catalans who grew up speaking their language in private for fear of death--not even 40 years ago, so this is still in recent memory).  So maybe if Catalonia were its own nation yet still considered a subject of the Spanish crown, it would still be okay.

the front of the meeting room we were in to hear the party leader speak

look!  i'm signing a bill into law!  (the big green button meant we were visitors)

After the house leader's Q&A session with us, he gave us a short look around to the chamber where all of the legislative work actually takes place.  Again, plushy red seats and lots of wood and velvet.  We got to sit in various spots and he told us which important party leaders sit where, and what they do during a typical session.  He had to leave to attend another session, but we took pictures and relaxed in a small lobby (with leather armchairs!) until we left.

Wouldn't it be cool to have your office look like this?

 We weren't allowed up at the podium on top.

The party leader, explaining what goes on in chamber

I want to close this entry by saying I had some of the best gelato (white chocolate) of my life with lunch today, at a little cafe on the Rambla.  It was amazing, and I was actually sad to finish it.  Barcelona is number one city to eat gelato in all the world.  What a fabulous city!

#17: Back in Barcelona

Today we left Andorra and drove south to Barcelona again.  We'll be here for the next six days.  The hotel we're staying at is in a completely different part of town than the first time, but I still can get around because of the metro.

At the hotel in Barça, we had our last lunch together as a group.  While I'll be happy to get home for a little bit and am excited to move to Mexico, I'm a little sad that my time in Europe is drawing to a close.  I've had so much fun exploring new places, trying new foods, and immersing myself in different cultures!  But of course, there's the fact that this is still a class, so there's a term paper due at the end of the month (the day after I get back home, as a matter of fact).

I have just under a week left here in Spain.  We have a few more planned activities on the itinerary, but a lot more free time to explore, hang out and study as well.  Today I went to the Museum of Catalonian Art, which was one of the first places I visited (from the outside) on my first day in Barcelona.  I brought my school ID with me and was able to get the student rate!  I spent nearly 3 hours inside the museum and saw every single exhibit.  (At this museum, you keep your ticket the entire time and every time you reach a new exhibit, you present your ticket to prove that you didn't sneak in).  The museum has the largest collection of medieval (romanesque) art I've ever seen!  (No pictures were allowed in the galleries, so I only have pictures of the architecture of the building inside and out.)   There were also modernist pieces by Picasso and Dalí, a baroque period section... My favorite exhibit was on a history of coins in the region.  (Fun fact:  the study of coins or the collection of coins as a hobby are both known as numismatics.)  There were 2000 year old coins from the Roman empire, all the way to today's euro and (pretend) debit and credit cards.  The best part was after you saw the modern money, it went back to the ancient currencies--that were counterfeited!  Apparently people have been trying to get something for nothing since the dawn of time.  And again, you could see the tools used in counterfeiting and the fake coins themselves through the ages, all the way to the (old) $100 US bill and euros.  There was even a machine to check your euros to make sure they were legit!

The best part about going to the museum was that I had to take the metro by myself, in an area I didn't know very well, to an area I didn't know very well--and it was a success!  On the return trip, I had more difficulty because when I exited the metro I got a little turned around.  I headed in what felt like the best direction and, while at a deli buying a pasta salad for dinner, asked the owner for directions and was only 3 blocks away from where I was trying to go!  I also stopped at a greengrocer to buy some fruits before arriving back at the hotel, safe and sound.  Since I'm all caught up with classwork, I spent the rest of the evening blogging and uploading pictures (of course).

These last few days will be short, my readership, but the adventure will not end here!  I'll update until the day before I leave, but the blog will go on hiatus for a week while I relax at home with family before moving to Mexico.  And then...  more pictures, more stories, more learning.  But don't leave yet!  Tomorrow I'm going to someplace... "top secret", at least for now.  I probably won't be able to take pictures but I'll write all about it as soon as I can.

#16: Like the Same, But Different

Instead of making an entire entry about a low-key Monday, I decided to point out some cultural differences that I've found between the United States and the parts of Europe I've visited so far.

The first and biggest thing I've noticed are the people and their dress code.  To begin, Europeans wear a lot of dark colors, but they're very stylish.  All of the styles that are popular right now (and a few that we haven't seen yet!) in the States, you can see people wearing that every day on the street.  Men and women are well-groomed and generally don't dress as casually as we do.  Older people don't dress "old"--you can look at a woman in her 50s and see the same outfit on a woman in her 20s.  Even when wearing jeans, the average European will have a nice blouse or button-down, or if in a t-shirt, a cool scarf or nice shoes to complement the ensemble.  NO SNEAKERS, EVER.  I can generally spot a tourist now by their footwear.  There are no flip-flops (then again, it's the middle of January) and grown people don't wear tennis shoes.  Even younger people who dress like hipsters  have on loafers or boots or ballerina flats.  The few times I've seen sneakers, they're usually chucks (and the extra-high top is coming back in style).  Nobody wears Jordans, and Nike stores here are just to buy jerseys from your favorite team or athletic shoes to work out in, not to sport as fashionable.  Also, it's ok for men here to know how to dress themselves--and others!  In the department stores in Andorra, many shoppers were men helping their wives/girlfriends by grabbing things off the racks and bringing it to them.  Not a single man in the store picked something I would have rejected.  And not a single one was stared at, frowned upon, or had his sexuality questioned.

Speaking of men, European men are just as involved with family activities as the women are.  Family is very important in just about every European culture.  Everyone eats lunch or dinner together (sometimes both), and often you'll see parents and kids walking the dog together.  I was very impressed by the number of men I saw with kids--way more than in the states.  By that, I mean that these were men taking their little ones to the park, or having lunch with an older child, or chaperoning a group date with a bunch of teens.  I would say that from the way it looks, parenting here is almost 50/50 mom/dad.

By far the biggest "culture shock" is the general acceptance of sexuality and lack of censorship in Europe.  Trendy boutiques will have uncensored rap music playing, and even the basic channels on TV show some skin--or a lot, as we all found eventually while flipping stations.  However, women, especially younger ones in my age range, don't dress nearly as provocatively as women do in the states.  Again, I know it's January and everyone's layered up, but on the warm days women in miniskirts or shorts have on tights, necklines are flattering without flashing, and clothes don't appear to be painted on.  Maybe since everyone here is comfortable with the idea of human sexuality, there's no need to pander for attention with your body.

And finally, a few more travel tips thrown into the mix:  Bring a washcloth.  In fact, bring a couple.  Most European hotels don't have them (unless you get them by request? I haven't tried).  I brought my own washcloth, just in case, and it's come in handy every single night when I shower.  I wish I would have brought a second one to wash my face with in the mornings, but makeup wipes do the trick as well.

Ever wonder why Europeans, especially the French, have such a reputation for being snooty towards Americans?  We don't show enough common courtesy.  Specifically, when you enter a small store, like a boutique, or a deli, or a souvenir shop, say "Hello" in the host language.  Seriously, that's all it takes.  In European culture, the person to arrive is the one to greet the room, especially when it's younger people toward elders.  Most Americans walk into a shop and just start browsing, and the Europeans are shocked that they didn't speak.  They feel slighted and give you a cold reception, and it all goes downhill from there.  In fact, it's a good idea in general to know a few basic words and phrases in whatever country you visit:  Hello/Good day, Please, Thank you, How much is...?, and Where is...?.  Most people, if they see that you're trying to be polite, will help you out (in English, even!).  Americans get into the most trouble abroad when they assume that everyone knows English and should speak accordingly.  (Most people do, but remember--common courtesy!).  Also, when exiting a shop, even if you didn't buy anything, say Thank you.  Really, you should practice this wherever you go--if we all used a little manners, the world would be a nicer place.

And, since I have put a few pictures in the past few entries, there are TWO albums for you to browse, here and here.

#15: Welcome to the Winter Wonderland

Sunday morning, I had breakfast at the hotel and excitedly got on the bus to head to one of the major ski parks in Andorra, Grandvalira.  My original plan was to try to ski.  First, I wasn't wearing the right clothes (and I had no clue!).  I wore a turtleneck with a cotton cami underneath, a pair of jeans with tights and thick socks, my "snow" boots (note: Mom bought these for me in Louisiana, so they're really more like "frost" boots) and a wonderful all-weather jacket I bought from walmart once for about $12.  It had a fleece lining and was water-repellent on the outside with a hood, so it kept me warm without weighing me down.

Those are not ski-appropriate clothes, according to Google.

First, I needed ski pants, so when I fell my butt wouldn't get wet.  (Oops.)  The jacket was ok, but I should have had a shirt with moisture wicking and insulation to keep me warm and dry.  (Strike two!)  And those frost boots? Definitely needed real snow boots with traction and again, insulation.  (Although the frost boots were very warm, just very slippery on the ice and snow.)

It was all just useful information for later because when we got to the ski resort, the skiing prices deterred me by A LOT.  And to rent an instructor, even for two hours, was something like 130E!  I decided to forget the skiing this time and maybe try it in the states, where it's bound to be cheaper (and the slopes aren't as difficult).'

Instead I went with another group who wanted to try "winter activities".  We paid 6.50 for the pedestrian passes (one ride up the funicular and one down) and entered the park.  Originally we wanted to go tubing, but it was canceled because the conditions weren't good (not enough snow on the slopes in general, so they used snow machines, but there was a lot of residual ice as a result).  Instead, we went dog mushing.  YES.   It was only half an hour, but i LOOOVED it!  Basically, we walked up to the lodge where the guides loaned us (real) snow boots to use.  They took us to the sleds and introduced us to the teams of dogs.  Since we each wanted to drive, we each got a pack of dogs.  You stand on the runners behind the sled and hold on to the handle, but you steer with your body (staying bent at the knees and leaning left or right, or crouching left or right during a curve).  Between the runners is a metal lever that you can press with your foot as the brakes, and it slows the dogs down.  There is also a metal anchor that you can throw into the snow, with long teeth that stick in the ground.  This keeps the dogs from running away with the sled if you're not ready to move.

My three dogs were very frisky and loved to run.  My lead dog's name was Boosh.  You learn your lead dog so that you can shout commands to him/her, and the rest of the pack follows.  Boosh was a good leader because he was playful with his pack mates but still eager to pull.  Some of the other lead dogs were tired or not very convincing to their pack (slower sled) or too aggressive and jumpy with the pack (altercations between dogs during breaks).

That's my pack! Boosh is the light colored dog up front.

After learning all those basics, I stood on my runners and said, "Go-go-go, Boosh!" and the dogs took off!  We had a couple practice runs around a small track with a light curve to get us used to the dogs and how to hold your body in the turns.  Unfortunately, my dogs knew the track by heart and as soon as they saw the curve, they would sprint before I had time to apply the brakes to slow down.  They would throw me off the sled, into the snow and the guide would have to catch the dogs and drop the anchor while I jogged to catch up.  (This happened four times!)

I was at a stop (see the anchor on the side of the sled?).  10 minutes later I was on my butt, laughing as my dogs ran down the hill.

The most exhilarating part was when we took a deep curve followed by a long sloping hill.  For all of three seconds I felt like a champion sled driver--and then Boosh and the gang threw me off, and I had to trot a long and cold way downhill to catch up to them, and drive them in for the final stretch.  All in all, I loved dog mushing!  If I ever move to a colder climate, I'd consider taking up dog mushing as a real hobby.

Bethany and I also went snowshoeing, but I didn't care for it very much.  Again, you don the snow boots and put them into these giant plastic contraptions which are designed to more evenly distribute your weight while walking on snow.  On a flat trail this is ok, but we went down part of the mountain (where I got stuck in a snowdrift) and back up through the underbrush, so it was difficult and not as awesome as I had hoped.

I spent about 7 hours at the park that day, so I was pretty pooped that evening.  I went out to dinner with Julie and Patrice and we found a lovely Italian restaurant.  Monday, I camped out in the hotel room in my pajamas to work on homework, complete my readings, and nap.  I got a bit of fresh air and dinner when I went back to Monoprix to buy more supplies, but that was it.  Nothing interesting, but I think an afternoon of dog sledding the day before made up for it!

#14: Andorra La Vella

On Saturday morning I woke up in Puigcerdá, Spain, walked across the river to Bourg Madame, France, and two hours later arrived in Andorra la Vella, Andorra.  Three countries in three hours--that should be some sort of record!

Andorra, as I've mentioned before, is a tiny country tucked in the Pyrenees Mountains between France and Spain.  The official language is Catalan, but they also speak Spanish and French equally, followed by English.  It's a principality, so historically it's co-ruled by a Spanish prince and a French one, but it still has a parliament and a prime minister like most constitutional monarchies around Europe.  It's also one of the top 10 richest nations in the world--but shh, don't mention it!  Andorrans are very low-key about their wealth, but at the same time it's really obvious, if you're looking for it.  Andorra has a 100% employment rate.  I never once saw a homeless person, or even a musician or artist performing for change on a street corner.  Everyone has on name-brand clothes.  Along the highway, the car dealerships I saw were Ferrari/Maserati, Land Rover/Jaguar, BMW/Mini Cooper, Mercedes-Benz, and Audi--and then the "moderate" cars like Volkswagen, Citroen, Peugeut and Renault (the last three are French car companies).  I noticed a few Hyundais driving on the roads, but it seems like it's mostly European cars here--maybe American and Asian cars cost too much to import.

So where does Andorra get all that money from?  TOURISM.  Andorra has some of the best shopping (duty-free!  as in, you don't pay any tax on anything) and skiing in the world.  In the winter, it's cold and snowy, which is great to hit the slopes, but in the summer it's warm and sunny, which is great to hit the shops!  For a city that had only three major streets (it's impossible to get lost in Andorra la Vella--trust me), there were more stores than Chicago's Magnificent Mile.  Watch shops, electronics stores, perfumeries, clothing boutiques, shoe outlets... for every person, every market, every object, there's a store.  The best part is that we arrived during rebaixes (re-bai-shes) season, which is their twice-a-year major closeout/liquidation sales.  Oh, and the European Union is really strict about knockoffs, so everything you saw was the licensed product.  Need a new ipod?  The store across the street from the hotel had an 8gb for 32E, for instance.  One of the clothing stores I went into had an entire rack of shirts that were 3-7E.  And don't forget, no pesky sales tax, so if it's 3 euros on the tag, it's 3 euros at the register.

So I guess it won't be hard to guess that I spent my first day in Andorra going from store to store, checking out the bargains.  I was with a group of (all female) classmates, and I think we visited... five stores? Six?  We all ended up at the local grocery store, Monoprix (a French chain similar to Target in the States), and bought food and snacks to keep in our rooms since we'd be there for 3 nights.  I found a 1.5liter bottle of water for just 22¢!  With that, chips and cookies, two oranges, and a sandwich from the deli, I spent maybe 4E.  (PS: In Europe, they have a standard sized water bottle that is a little smaller than the one in the states, and then the mondo liter and a half.  Most times, it's cheaper to buy the mondo bottle and tote it around for a couple days.)

Final consensus on Andorra:  major thumbs up.  It's got a great lifestyle, but only if you have some cash to put up with it.  As Josep would say:  "I love it, I love it, I like it!"