"Thanksgiving" in Segovia

So let me begin by saying that our trip to Segovia yesterday (Friday) was FREEZING. Why am I suddenly such a cold weather wuss? Spanish cold weather got nothing on Boston, but I am nine months removed from my last experience of a Boston winter, and Spain made it doubly hard to believe winter was coming by staying in the 70s until late October. I should just be thankful it wasn't raining...

We started off the day stopping for a photo op of this view of the Alcázar, or castillo, or castle:


BU knows what is important to us - kodak moments. We flocked into a wet field to take advantage of this view, which was much better than the one from the entrance to the castle, as we learned later in the day. After that, we rode the bus into the middle of town and got out to learn all about the aqueducto, the Roman aqueduct that is the best surviving example of a Roman aqueduct in the peninsula, and possibly in the world.

We then went for the tour of the synagogue-turned-church and the Jewish quarter which has become synonymous with all trips we take with the program. This synagogue looked a lot like the one in Toledo, but was actually part of a convent of cloistered nuns. Have I mentioned that I am fascinated by nuns? Mostly just because a) I've never really been surrounded by so many nuns as there are in Spain and b) I am always wondering what the difference between various types of nuns are. Like, mostly it is about their clothes. Why do some nuns have to conform to the US stereotype of nun fashion (think Sister Act) and some get to pull a more Mother Teresa look together? Some super secret nun hierarchy? In El Escorial, Amalia explained to us where nuns got their distinctive dress: she said that widows got sent to convents back in those days (easier to pawn off an old and perhaps powerful woman on the church to control?) and what we now think of as nun fashion was actually widow fashion in the 16th Century that convents adopted.

In the patio of the synagogue - ducks!

Then came the part of the day that we had all been waiting for (alternatively with anticipation and trepidation): our "Thanksgiving" meal. Typical of Segovia, we had cochinillo asado, or roast suckling pig.
I probably should not say "we" here, as that is misleading. I did not have cochinillo asado - I had salmon, a nice big chunk that did not come with a face. As part of the ceremony of serving it, the chef José María had Nicole (who's birthday was most recent) help him as a volunteer. They cut through the piggy with a plate to prove how tender it was, and then to prove the plate was not doctored in some way, they broke it on the floor. And then he proceeded to portion out all the cochinillo by cutting it into pieces with a plate. We also had a special dessert of his creation, which was ice cream with chocolate sauce "flambeado" (I love that flambear is a verb) with alcohol and a jasmine-like herb. Oh, and there were peppermint flakes in the ice cream. It was a Thanksgiving Miracle.

Next, on to our last stop of the day, the visit to the Alcázar. It was an interesting mix of medieval/mudejar architecture on the inside and had the look of that one German castle on the outside (you know the one. Neuw-something). What I was not expecting was to see my first suit of armor inside.

Then, after a brief spell in the gift shop playing with toys and reading pop-up books with Amalia, we hiked back through the city and got back on the bus for the ride home, in which everyone slept. Later that night, my literature professor threw a party which he invited us to, so we got to see his surprisingly spacious apartment and he served us what can only be described as very nice tapas and jungle juice. Happy Thanksgiving.

Not a real Thanksgiving???

OLD NEWS. I haven't spent Thanksgiving with my family for three years running. The best substitute, of course, is spending Thanksgiving with friends, who are sometimes better family - stereotypes of awkward relatives, cheek pinching, and all that (not the case in my family, however, where I kick nonstop butt at Trivial Pursuit and we all watch football and eat olives off our fingers). Or, at least we did in 2006, the last time I was home for Thanksgiving. Instead, I've a) bummed around Michelle's Thanksgiving and hung out with her family and b) made spaghetti with my cousin. I am going to miss Thanksgiving with Michelle's mom's adventurous cuisine. Last year she made grapes filled with goat cheese and little nut pieces as hors d'oeuvres. Yum. This year, we are going to Segovia on Friday, not Thursday, and eating roast suckling pig, not turkey. Not quite as yum. In other news, how glad am I that I do not have to deal with the new airport scanners/groping and the promised boycott. Not that I would have to deal with that were I in Boston, since I wouldn't be going home anyway, but I like to look on the bright side.

Looking ahead, you may remember that I will be spending next semester in Washington, DC. You may also recall that I mentioned getting an internship offer in the last posting or two. I ended up getting the other offer as well and have officially decided to intern for Senator Merkley's office next semester. Just sent in my acceptance and the first of what is sure to be lots of paperwork. I talked to a couple other people in the program today, and it turns out that I am not the only one of us that is ready to go home. I mean, Madrid and Spain as a whole have been amazing, but I think 14 weeks is going to be quite sufficient and I am looking forward to my time in the EUG, starting something new in DC, and returning to Boston to my roomies and everyone (and everything - men's basketball) I've missed.

More Versailles-y than Versailles

According to Paola, who actually has been to Versailles, the Palacio Real at Aranjuez is "more Versailles-y than Versailles." I am inclined to agree with her solely based on the impressiveness of this palace, originally built by Felipe II but finished by the Borbones (they are French. Perhaps that explains it?) and used as a spring residence every year until the First Republic in 1863-ish.

Looks pretty Versailles-ish from the front, right?

Obviously, we didn't have the best timing when visiting this palace - it's pretty much winter here and the palace was habited in spring for a reason - its extensive gardens. There are about ten million of them, filled with fountains and benches and with a river running right through them (the longest river in the Iberian Peninsula, I'm told).

Eating lunch in the gardens

Fountain. One of many.

Not sure exactly what creature this is supposed to be...

The inside of the Palace was not too shabby, either. We paid all of 3 euro to go on the super special guided tour, that took us to rooms that the guide had to unlock with a key that looked original. We even felt very accomplished because we took the tour in Spanish and understood it all (mostly) perfectly. Much cooler than the Palacio Real in Madrid, if you ask me (although that could be because we didn't do the super secret tour...). And once again, no photos allowed inside, so I googled these two so you can see my favorite rooms from the palace:

Room decorated all in porcelain, with Chinese theme and lots of monkeys

Probably my favorite room, this one was decorated to look like the Alhambra in Granada.

This photo doesn't even do it justice. The Alhambra room was so impressive and overwhelming and now I am even more stoked for our trip to Granada in two weeks.

Nothing says cold fall day to me like holiday flavored coffee

Unfortunately, my local Starbucks didn't have pumpkin spice or gingerbread or peppermint lattes. Are those flavors limited to evoking holiday feelings in the US? Anyway, they did have seasonal beverages. I chose the Cafe Latte Praline, which was pretty delicious anyway.

Yum!

In other news, going to see Harry Potter this afternoon. I figure that seeing it at 6:30pm Madrid time is like seeing it at 9:30am in Oregon, so I'm only 9.5 hours late.

Ah, seasonal beverages and Harry Potter. Two definite signs of winter. There are literally only 4 weeks from today until I leave Spain. Not all is lost, however, since I get to spend almost two more weeks in Europe/Africa/the Mediterranean with my family before returning home. Then two weeks at home, then another semester "abroad" in DC. I got offered an internship with Senator Defazio this week, and had an interview with Senator Merkley's office yesterday, which went very well despite the six hour time difference and exigencies of my cheap Spanish cellphone (aka not the greatest sound quality). What I am most looking forward to, though, is my triumphant return to Boston!

Normandy/Normandie/Normandía - Day 3

If Day 2 was a transportation fail, Day 3 was a transportation win! We caught a bus to the Memorial in Caen first thing, which is a GIGANTIC museum. Of course, we only made it through one exhibit before it was time to move on, but it was the D-Day exhibit - the most important one, right? The striking thing about the exhibit (and the thing that reminded me of the different interpretations of the landings, even between groups on the same side) is that at the end, the conclusion was something like Normandy paid the price for the liberation of France, in terms of material damage and lives lost, etc. I wasn't sure what the point of this was: to complain about being first liberated? Would you have rather the Allies liberated somewhere else first and you had stayed longer under Nazi rule, perhaps subject to reprisals for enemy victories? Are you complaining that no other region experienced as much material and human damage? Blame that on the Nazis, who threw in their last reinforcements in Normandy and couldn't put up much of a fight in the rest of France. I mean, I'll be the first to admit that Allied bombing of Normandy was not very effective strategically for the number of bombs and the material destruction, but that assessment seemed...bitter? Anyway, I digress.

Photo from the Museum - This film is URGENT

We left the Memorial in order to catch a bus to Pegasus Bridge, which was one of the objectives of airborne troops the morning of D-Day. We learned so so so much from our personal tour: that Pegasus Bridge was the first bit of French territory liberated by the Allies on D-Day, that gliders and not parachutists were used, that the bridge over the canal and not the Orne is the more famous of the two objectives, and that Prince Charles was at the Pegasus Bridge on the anniversary in 2000 with current British paratroopers. The man who showed us around also introduced us to a British Veteran who happened to be there, who was perhaps 80 years old and had tears in his eyes. It was a privilege to speak with him about his experiences.

View of the bridge over the Canal (which we later learned was a fake!)

The REAL Pegasus Bridge, which the French Government replaced and then sold to the Memorial for 1 euro

Replica of the gliders used on D-Day

Wreckage of an actual glider (probs not one that crashed on D-Day)
By virtue of the fact that the gliders were launched before dawn and that securing this bridge took all of 10 minutes

Those two markers mark where the first glider landed. The bridge indicates where the bridge they were supposed to take was. Somebody deserves a medal for that landing.

The Veterans leave (fake) poppies every time they visit for an anniversary.

Finally, it was time for me to get back on a train to Paris, then on another train to Madrid. In the meantime, since I had two hours to kill in Paris, I stepped out of the metro to snap a photo of the Eiffel Tower (hell, I'm in Paris). Unfortunately, I have about seven that all look like this:

And that, my friends, was my trip to Normandy!

Normandy/Normandie/Normandía - Day 2

Enjoying my French Breakfast

Day two was our day of failed transportation. Originally, the plan had been to try and fit in the American Cemetary/Omaha Beach, Arromanche (which has a museum and is new Juno Beach, I think), and Pegasus Bridge. Well, thanks to BusVerts only running two routes per day, we only made it to the American Cemetary and Omaha Beach, and that was with a taxi ride.

Not that only doing Omaha/the American stuff was a bad thing, because we spent about 3 hours there anyway. We started with the museum, which tells both the general story of planning and execution of various aspects of the Normandy landings, but also highlighted some specific stories of men who are buried there (aka a giant weep-fest). The most striking part, however, was the cemetery itself. Basically, its this lush, landscaped green field with white crosses perfectly in rows as far as the eye can see. The visual/spatial arrangement of the crosses, even though its just in rows and columns, is impressive because from whatever angle you look at it from, they all look to be in correspondence with each other. There is also a chapel, which has a mosaic on the ceiling that depicts Columbia, or possibly Lady Liberty sending her boys off and the Marianne (female embodiment of France) comforting them/taking care of them in death.

Comrade Stalin is taking a photo of you

My favorite thing about the Battle in Normandy - Americans baffled by les bocages - giant hedges. Unfortunately, I did not get to see any in real life while I was there.
Dunno if that wooden post is important. I'd like to think so.

The mosaic in the chapel

Seems weird to smile in front of the cemetery sign. Oh well.

So, originally we had thought there'd be enough time to catch a Bus Verts back to Bayeux and then to Caen, and then onto Arromanches. Well, we did catch the bus to Bayeux, and there was a bus from Caen to Arromanches, but no bus to get us between Bayeux and Caen in time. So, we ended up eating lunch at this adorable cafe that said "Welcome to our liberators" on the door. Tartes Trois Fromage, cup of coffee, and Tarte Normande warmed me up since it had been raining like no other.


Back in Caen, we called it a day, eating leftovers for dinner and watching A Very Potter Musical, after we spent the day talking about a) Harry Potter and b) that new kid on Glee. It was a serendipitous event.

EDIT: Another thought I came up with that I think is pertinent to share.

From my Facebook: Sam and I agreed that its nice they have a German flag up there. We debated the politics of historical remembrance of WWII at each memorial. There was German family in the American Cemetery, and we wondered how they felt about the characterization of the war. We imagine some interpretations have now softened because of the advent of the EU and French-German cooperation. I think it's perfectly appropriate to have a German flag at the memorial to recognize that ordinary Germans (not dehumanized and lumped as Nazis/embodiments of evil) died there, too.

Normandy/Normandie/Normandía - Day 1

My long-awaited journey to Normandy was a success! Paris was a teensy pain, but it was not the disaster situation I had imagined (with a person refusing to sell me a train ticket because I don't speak French, or a cab driver that drove me around in circles because I am American, or anything like that). I took the trenhotel from Madrid to Paris on Thursday night/Friday morning, and got to translate between the other two women in the cabin (I paid the extra 20 bucks for a bed and it was totally worth it), one of whom was a South Korean backpacking through Europe, and the other was from Galicia. What can I say, I am a superstar Spanish speaker.

This photo (taken out the window) does not do justice to the neon-ness of Normandy

Our train was delayed getting into Paris, so I missed the 10:10 train to Caen (pronounced KON but without too much N sound). Therefore, I had plenty of time to take the Paris metro, buy my ticket at a leisurely pace, and wait around at Gare Saint Lazare for an hour and a half. The train to Caen gave me my first glimpse at the Norman countryside. I can't decide if it's more like New England (because of the tiny towns surrounded by fields) or the Willamette Valley viewed from I-5 (because of the endless fields of growing stuff, plus cows and sheep). Either way, it was like, neon green. So Sam met me at the train station and we went back to her apartment for lunch, a shower, and planning. Her apartment is super adorable, and squeaks like you'd expect an old french building to. The only downside is that its a fourth floor walk-up (and the second floor is really the first in Europe). I met her roommate, Meg, who is also teaching English in France and is from merry old England. That first night (it was about 4pm by the time we got around to doing something) we explored the Chateau of William the Conqueror. That's right, a building that's been there for like A THOUSAND YEARS. Impressive stuff. On the way home, we walked past some churches lit up at night. One, the Abbeye des Hommes (or something) we later found out was used as a shelter for the citizens of Caen during Allied bombing, and the French Resistance told the Allies, so they didn't bomb anywhere near it and it survived the war intact. And we went out for dinner, too, for crepes (like good French people). Delicious. My Normandy trip, although not yet WWII-tastic, was off to a good start.

Hello, Caen

Part of William the Conqueror's Chateau

The Abbeye des Hommes (probably spelled very differently in real life)

Field Trip to El Escorial

El Escorial is a pueblo in the mountains outside Madrid that happens to have a royal palace, and also happens to be where Menchi is from.

Look at that view
It was freezing (and I'm being studious)

The story is that Felipe II's army (circa late 1500s) won a battle against the French at San Quintin on the fiesta of San Lorenzo (his 'saint' day). So, to give thanks for victory, Felipe II decided to build a palace dedicated to San Lorenzo. In case you didn't know, San Lorenzo was basically barbequed - martyred on a grill, so the Monasterio Real de San Lorenzo de El Escorial pays tribute to that by incorporating the grill design in the architecture (hey, Jesus is symbolized by the thing on which he died too).

See? It's kind of grill shaped...

Basically, everything from the bars on the windows to the things that hold the ropes to keep you in line are reminiscent of the grill San Lorenzo died upon. Charming.

San Lorenzo with his grill

Grill shaped window bars. Sensing a theme?

Our visit was all about the history class, since it was required for us to incorporate aspects of El Escorial into our papers (not sure what aspects yet. I'll let you know when I finish the paper). So we booked it through the tapestry and painting and architecture exhibits to get to the good stuff: the palace itself. It was surprisingly simple for a royal palace, with little decoration and such. I really liked the Pantheon, which is basically the burial chamber for dead Spanish Kings and Queens (but only the mother of the next king gets to be buried there). Amalia told us a fun fact, though - there's basically a room off the pantheon for all the bodies to be stored so they can rot before they are put into the coffin designated for them. Obviously this is a genius idea, since it means the Pantheon won't smell of rotting flesh, but still, ick. There are only two more coffins open in the Pantheon, and they will be filled with the bodies of the mother and father of Juan Carlos (current king), which are currently passing the time in the rotting room. Charming.

My sneaky picture of going into the Pantheon

The Pantheon itself

Once again, we couldn't take photos inside, but there it is in all its glory. Guess its ok for dead kings to have nicely decorated rooms. There were several other rooms full of dead people, including infantes and infantas (sons and daughters of kings that did not go on to be king or queen) and Juan de Austria, an iligitimate son of Carlos I who turned out to be pretty legit after all, since he got a niche all to himself. There was also what Amalia described as a "cake" of dead infantes and infantas who died before puberty.

That is filled with dead children. Charming.

So what did I learn from our trip to El Escorial? That it is a cute pueblo with a nice view and a palace with a fixation on the macabre. Until next time...

El Loco de la Catedral

So today I went to my new favorite Cathedral in the whole world (Sorry, Sagrada Familia). It doesn't really have a name, but its in Mejorada del Campo, which is a pueblo just outside Madrid. It's being built (and has been under construction for almost 50 years) by Justo Gallego, a 90 year old former monk who has dedicated his life to this work to glorify God. In the pueblo (and in much of the rest of Spain), they call him El Loco de la Catedral (The Crazy Man of the Cathedral).

He's built the whole thing, from excavating the crypt to constructing the towers and cupolas, by hand with improvised tools (including a bicycle wheel as a pulley) with help from 2 or 3 other people. Using almost entirely recycled or excess materials donated from other building sites and without plans or any construction training, he works his own metal, pours his own concrete, and climbs improvised scaffolding to complete work high above the ground.

We found out about Justo thanks to Laura, Stacy's señora, who produced a documentary on him some years ago and is now his good friend. She invited us to accompany them on a "mystery adventure" to "el pueblo más feo de Madrid" (the ugliest village of Madrid). But the resulting exploration of the cathedral, with special commentary from Laura, was well worth it.

View of the unfinished cupolas from the tower

Wall decoration on the crypt

What all of the finished cupolas will look like?
Mosaic stairs"Stained glass" - broken colored glass sandwiched between two panes of clear glass

Laura and JustoThe biggest cupola, from inside the cathedral

Eventually, Laura tells us, the cathedral is supposed to be dedicated to the Virgen del Pilar, the patron saint of Spain and the saint to which Justo's mother was very devoted. The town ignores the cathedral for the most part, chalking it up to Justo's madness. They closed it down for a while to visitors because it is dangerous (it became popular after being featured in a commercial for a Pepsi drink). Justo builds without any permits, but it is on his own land and he has a sign disclaiming any responsibility for accidents, so they mostly leave him alone. The Catholic Church probably will never recognize his cathedral, if he ever finishes it, but that's fine with Justo. He doesn't even care if he finishes it or not. He's more focused on glorifying the Lord each day by offering his work to Him.

For further info:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Justo_Gallego_Mart%C3%ADnez
http://www.cathedraljusto.com/thestory.html - the documentary made by Stacy's Senora