I just woke up from a 6 hour siesta... Oops.

I knew it was bound to happen one of these days. I always wake up with a bizarre confusion of what part of the day it is. Am I waking up with a time table of eating breakfast, getting dressed, and running to class? Or am I in a lazy afternoon where I can wake up and do homework, watch TV with my señora, and go out as a please? I can't count sleeps here Jackie because I sleep more than 7 times a week...

Anyway, I went out last night with Molly, her intercambio Ramón, and some other CIEE people after my dance class. Considering that my dance class ends at 10 PM (which means 10:15 PM) and is on the other side of the city, it wasn't until 12 that I actually made it out to the Torre del Oro... the infamous location for botellón. Luckily since I had been walking outside I knew enough to rock the tights with my new boots to keep warm.

Later in the evening we went to a discotheque and after about 40 minutes of creeping, we finally got the awkward group of guys that was dancing next to us to realize that we wanted to learn their moves. These 4 guys (2 from England, 1 from France, 1 from German) were sufficiently awkward but were seriously breaking it down. I was starting to wish I had paid more attention in all those years of One Broadway hip hop so I had more to offer. Molly and one of the English guys had a dance off... the results of which are unknown. If you ask us, Molly won, but this guy was a bit full of himself and just would not concede. The music also didn't include Lady Gaga so Molly wasn't quite on the top of her game. She also tried to teach them the fist pump, but it just wasn't quite the same as Portugal.

Anyway, I went to bed at 4:30 and woke up for a tour of the Medieval Castles of Sevilla at 8:30 AM. This doesn't exactly constitute an appropriate night of sleep for me. There is a reason I don't do this when I'm at Hope and actually have legitimate things to accomplish every day.

The Castles we saw were pretty cool, but nothing in comparison to what I had seen in Spain previously. Nevertheless, I've included some pictures and a brief history lesson for you all to enjoy :)

The castles are always situated at the top of the city so they have they best view of everything coming in and out of the city. This morning we encountered some serious fog though so we couldn't make out much of the pueblo below us.

View from the top of the city

Watch tower that had been well-preserved

I was surprised at how underdeveloped this pueblo seemed. It was very small and the majority of the houses did not seem to be in very good shape. I guess I had considered all the pueblos to be more of suburbs, but what we found looked more like what I had seen in Matamoros, Mexico, than anywhere else.

One of the nicer views of the pueblo

After checking out these remains, we continued on to another pueblo, which happened to be the hometown of both of our guides. So of course when we got there all of our comments fell along the lines of, "This is the greatest city I've ever been in!" Now I much prefer Sevilla to the small pueblo we were in but I will give them mad credit for their pastries. They are known for their panderias and for a good reason.

This oozed chocolate all over me. Be jealous.

Of course, there were also churches and remains of medieval castles to check out as well. (But at this point I think even our guides knew the dulces were the selling point of the trip, jaja...) Along the way we ran into at least 7 people our tour guides knew: one guide's brother and uncle, the owner of the bomb panderia we went to, the other guide's mom - the list goes on. We eventually made it to the top of one of the other towers and I pulled out Mike, the Flat Stanley I had been sent by one of Jackie's friends who is student teaching this semester. It was pretty funny because when I pulled it out everyone started asking me, "Is that a Flat Stanley?!? That's so cool, I did that when I was in elementary school!"

The Baroque church in the pueblo... their own Giraldita.

Side note: The españoles add -ita to anything they want to make smaller. Hence Giraldita is a mini Giraldo, which is the huge tower in the center of Sevilla. My señora likes to say 'hasta luegita' or 'hasta mañanita' instead of 'hasta luego' or 'hasta mañana.' This is kind of like saying, 'see you in a little bit,' but its funny to hear these common phrases modified by the locals.

Flat Mike from the top of the tower.
The sunglasses are my own personal addition via post-it note.

I got back home from this little excursion at 2:30, perfect timing for lunch and a siesta. I knew I wanted to catch up on sleep so I changed into sweat pants and climbed under the covers. This was a pitfall. Normally I try to distinguish siesta from night time by sleeping in my regular clothing at siesta and sleeping on top of the covers. I also normally just close the curtain and let my room be partially lit. But no, I closed the shades (my señora has the intense kind that don't let anything in) and checked out of the world for 6 hours. It doesn't help that my señora left and the house was completely silent. Oh well, I guess this is part of just letting whatever happens with the day happen. I'm glad I got something accomplished this morning though!

The rest of the week was pretty uneventful. Here are some brief highlights...

Mike on a carriage ride

Tuesday was Columbus Day (from the other side of the ocean!) so I went to the Museum of Flamenco Dance and wandered around the city a bit with Flat Mike. Yes, Tami and Ali, one day I will take the two of you for an outing of the city. I'm just trying to pace myself so no locals start noticing me and my paper people :)

Paella with chicken, clams, shrimp, and squid

My señora made me paella! It was AMAZING. Again, you have my permission to be jealous.

Did you know the Plaza de España in Sevilla was used in Star Wars?

My interest group had a meeting that talked about Sevilla being used in the filming of different movies. We watched the clips and it was kind of sad to see the way the city had been distorted. (Excluding Star Wars because I feel like they can do whatever they want.) Particularly awful was Knight and Day, which made Cádiz and Sevilla into one city with some awful green screening. Sevilla is so beautiful that it was kind of a bummer to see the way it gets reduced to the touristic icons of the media. We had talked about this in my Flamenco class this week as well, during which I found out they consider the cowboy to be one of the main icons of the United States. Guess it shows how off our perceptions of other countries can be since the closest I get to cowboys is the food court at the PA farm show. Mmmm, milkshakes :)

Well that's all for now, I'm off to do some homework and pack before leaving for Granada with CIEE tomorrow morning! Love from Spain and I hope you all in Hershey are enjoying a fun wedding-planning-weekend :)

Some food and thoughts

I received a request from a miss Hanah Ho for some pictures of what I've been eating so far. So now I will share with you the wonderful cooking of my señora :) By the way, she laughs at me every time we eat because I always have to run back to my room for my SLR...

Delicious concoction of chick peas, peppers, and chicken

Similar to Sweedish meatballs?

Typical Spanish tortilla served with green peppers :) Pure goodness made only of potatoes, onions, eggs, and olive oil. Its magical...

Left over ice cream cake from her granddaughter's fourth birthday. Dulce de leche (milk caramel) is becoming a favorite flavor.

The infamous chocolate croissant-ish goodness. I tell myself I will only buy it if I have the change. And somehow I always find the magical Euro coin at the bottom of my purse.

You got the food. Now onto the thoughts. I've realized there's an interesting element of Study Abroad that I every student encounters, whether on purpose or not. The element? Reinvention.

I will happily admit I have reinvented myself in some aspects this semester...

- I have made it a goal to be more free-spirited this semester. I haven't suddenly grown my hair out to my toes or anything, but I allow myself more freedom within my days. I've actually even tried to get lost. Unfortunately, I studied my map too much at the beginning of the semester and normally know where I am anyway. But I don't make the effort to control social engagements, plan out when and how I am going to achieve everything this semester, or set alarms (except of course, for my 9 AM classes). And so far, I haven't needed to. Everyday has presented unique and wonderful opportunities.

- I have switched (or at least tried to switch) my walking pace to that of the Spaniards. Its more a stroll than a walk.

- I try to dress as chic as those españolas. However, I just can't break out those 4 inch heels for my 35 minute cobblestone stroll to school. My father's a podiatrist. Ain't happening. But I did buy a pair of brown leather boots today! Now I can wear my boots with tights and dresses and feel guay (cool).

- I have worked on developing my Andalucian accent. Spanish grammar is (for the most part) natural now and I've taken to just introducing myself as Ahm-bar since the Spaniards can't pronounce Amber. People have even started asking where I'm from instead of just asking what state I'm from! Win :)

Whoaaa check out those life changes, right? Not. But I have been presented numerous opportunities to more drastically reinvent myself. I could have been anyone I wanted here. I could go out and drink until I can't stand up. Meet a different guy each night. Skim novels to avoid doing any homework at all. However, when the opportunity presented itself, I didn't take it. It just wasn't me. It wasn't what I wanted to do.

The big push of studying abroad is to emerge yourself in the culture. Make friends with the locals, adapt their customs, step outside your comfort zone. But where is the line between experiencing the culture and changing your approach to life?

In Spain, it is not culturally common to hang out in somebody's house or apartment. Excluding family events, social interactions take place in bars, restaurants (most of which are at bars) or cafés (which often double as bars). Thus, needless to say, most of my social interactions this semester have taken place in some form of a bar. Not normally my scene, but its honestly everyone's scene here. And I can embrace this. They serve Coca-Cola and awesome tapas at bars. But I just can't bring myself to hang out in these bars until all hours of the night, every night, despite the encouragements of my professors and my señora.

I think the core of what bothers me is that I haven't met many españoles that I really want to be friends with. Nadia and her friends were welcoming and nice, but are not exactly a group of people I would hang out with in the states. My intercambio speaks Spanish and English, but that's pretty much where our common interests finish. But time is of the essence for this short semester and I am encouraged to seize every opportunity presented to me to hang out with the locals. No matter who they might be?

I'm not sure if all the thoughts that are swarming around in my head are coming out quite right but let me sum it up: When given the opportunity to completely reinvent myself, I chose to stay the same. For the most part, I am proud of the person I am, the decisions I've made, and the manner in which I live my life. I choose to turn down chances to partake in certain activities. I was discussing this struggle with my señora and I felt a wave of relief crash over me when she told me, "No hagas compromisos." (Don't make compromises.) Finally, someone who had been encouraging me to enjoy all of the study abroad elements mentioned that there was a limit.

I'm just not the girl that so many American girls come here to become. And if I have to sacrifice certain "experiences" of studying abroad to remain that way, so be it. I'm having a great semester anyway.

¹⁴Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.
Ephesians 6:14-15

...let us run with perserverance the race marked out for us...

This blog was the hardest to name so far. Most times I'm struggling to come up with something that explains the post but doesn't fall along the lines of "What I did Monday and Tuesday of this week." This time, however, I had countless titles swimming around in my mind and couldn't decide what encompassed the past three days the most. After some thought I settled on an excerpt of Hebrews 12:1-3, but I'll try to break up the post in a way that explains every aspect of the past 72 hours.

When I left school on Thursday afternoon I had no plans.

Seriously. Not a single social engagement. I remember walking back from school, trying to remember the museums I've been wanting to go to and planning out a quiet weekend of reading one of the novels for my women's literature class, visiting the open air markets, and checking out a museum each day. Now that its Sunday evening, I read 4 pages of my novel and didn't go to a single market or museum. So much for a quiet weekend in Sevilla.

Journal of the Movement of the World. / Reason #2 you should train to become a Messiah Women's Soccer Player before you study abroad.

I'm pretty sure nobody will understand this reference to the French novel, The Elegance of the Hedgehog. I could go on but its better you just read the book - I'll lend it to you :) Anyway, this 12-year-old girl keeps record of the amazement of movement, for example: the articulation of a cat's spine or synchronized diving. This weekend, being a part of the Carrera Nocturna de Sevilla, I was inspired to add my own entry in this fashion.

First off, there were 20,702 people who participated in this run. Granted, I'm not part of any sort of marathon running club that does this all the time, but it sounds like a lot of people to me. CIEE had sent us an e-mail last Saturday giving us a heads up about the race and I figured, Why not run? I was probably going to go for a run that day anyway. The Spaniards all talked about how relaxed it was and how a ton of people just do it for fun so I figured it would be a 5K or something. It wasn't until I was meeting Alia to go that I found out it was a 12K. Now I know that's not that long but it was 10 PM and I hadn't exactly spent the day eating, drinking, or resting to run 7.47 miles. Oops.

Once there, I approached the start line with 5 other girls from CIEE and felt a mix of excitement (the number of people was amazing!), nervous (I probably should've drank more than 3 glasses of water today), and anxiety (its currently 9:50 and I have to run this race, get home, and meet my friend at 12:00...). But as the start time got closer and closer I decided I wasn't going to worry about anything but this moment. I was determined to run the whole race and deal with everything else as it comes.

Waiting for the start of the race

The start was somewhat anti-climatic since all 20,702 (minus a few people who won other races before this and got to start 5 minutes ahead) were supposed to take off at the same time. We would start running and then realize the old man next to us was walking at the same pace. As soon as things cleared out though I took off and maintained a pace slightly slower than normal but still somewhat aggressive. Which means I probably ran at least an extra mile if you count all the weaving around groups dressed up as Bob de Esponja (SpongeBob), clowns, and Duracell Bunnies.

Now even though a 12K isn't exactly a social event if you are running, it was amazing to be part of this massive group of people moving together. None of us were taught to run; none of us were told to sing or clap when we were going through the bridge; none of us received a memo to cheer on the other runners at the finish line. We all just took off, and for an hour and 16 minutes we were an organism of movement - running, singing, cheering. As we ran through my neighborhood, I was surrounded by familiar places, but no familiar faces. But it didn't matter because smiles are universal. The families and friends weren't yelling my name, but the fervor of "Adelante!" (Move forward!) was enough encouragement for me to keep smiling, keep running.

I managed to run the whole thing without looking at my watch except at the beginning. I had no idea what the route was and I didn't see any signs marking the distance so I figured I would just keep going as fast as I could until I was at the end. I'm sure that's not the appropriate technique to running something like this but oh well. We ended in the soccer stadium, with tons of people cheering in the stands and a big timer showing us our arrival time. They put the videos up on a website after the race but after watching the minute I arrived 10 different times I realized two things: I should probably have worn a shirt more distinct than plain black. If I'm going to arrive with a bagillion other people, I should make it a point to get closer to the camera instead of walking right in the middle of all of them.

After 1:16:17 I came in to the finish line at 1:27:34 (the timer is off from the different startings).
So believe it or not I am in that mess of people who is a step away from the finish line :)

Feeling good, but a little thirsty, I continued to follow this massive group of people to the area where they were handing out drinks, t-shirts, etc. And when we arrive what do I find but good old Cruzcampo. Yes after Spaniards run a 12K they refresh themselves with beer. Figures. Luckily I found a smaller stand that was giving away Powerade and retrieved my bag including: a t-shirt, shorts, medal, keychain, water, and cereal bar. Yay!

By this point it was midnight and raining so I hailed my first cab ever (then thought oh crap what street do I live on) and continued on home. This was the only point where I really missed family, friends, etc. It was kind of a bummer to have finished a 12K and have nobody even know. So once I got home I figured out the self-timer on my SLR and photographed the aftermath for proof :)

Looking good in my t-shirt and medal at 12:30 AM.

When in Spain, do as the Spaniards do // How to lose (?) a guy in 10 minutes

It was already 12:30 so I tried to call Nadia, but with no success. 2 tries later I decided to just get a shower and see if she calls. After showering I still hadn't heard anything so I settled for some sweatpants and a yogurt to do some facebook creeping before bed. Halfway through my yogurt though, I got a text with her location and an invitation to come and meet her and her friends. Since I was up and my upcoming weekends all seem busy I figured I should go. Seize the day, hang out with the locals... this is what I came here to do right?

So I get dressed and head out (in the rain) to find the bridge where they are hanging out. At this point I should probably mention that there are 4 different bridges within a mile and a half. And it wasn't any of these bridges... it was the next bridge. I will fully admit here that I should not have walked by myself at 1:30 in the morning when I wasn't sure where I was going. But I'm pretty good with directions and I honestly thought I knew where I was going. After about an hour, I finally met up with Nadia and her friend Carlos, who took me across the street to the meeting place. At 2:30 AM. When I was soaked from head to toe. Good first impression, right?

Well it turns out I did make a good impression because within the first 15 minutes, Carlos and one of Nadia's other friends were kind of snickering and looking in my direction. But Carlos seemed nice and we had been talking before so I figured whatever, my accent must just be beyond awful. But a few minutes later when I was talking to Carlos I asked him, "You guys are all talking about me aren't you?" And he responded with a "Sí...". To which I followed with, "Why...?". Which ended up with a response of, "Because they all know I think you're beautiful."

What in the world are you supposed to say to that? American boys aren't exactly knocking down my door, let alone just walking up to me and telling me I'm beautiful. Thus, I would say I don't have much practice in this situation. So Awkward Amber just kind of laughed it off with the Spanish equivalent of, "Oh, OK."

The night continued on great, Nadia studied in Germany so she knows what it feels like to be the foreigner trying to make friends with the locals. Everytime one of her friends would try and speak to me in English she would tell them that my Spanish was really good and they should talk to me in Spanish. So by the end of the night it was just like hanging out with any other group of friends.

Excluding of course the compliments from Carlos: You're so pretty. You seem like such a good person. I really like hanging out with you. You're so skinny, you don't need to run. You're beautiful. Seriously. What do you say to this? I tried to explain to him that if someone in the states were to say this it would be more along the lines of a joke, not a serious compliment. This did not deter him. To add to it, all of his friends kept coming up to me too and telling me about how nice he was and how much he liked me, which again I awkwardly laughed off. But overall he was a nice guy and understood when I told him I couldn't like him after only knowing him for 3 hours. Also, contrary to popular belief, I didn't exactly come to Spain looking for a boyfriend.

The night was a success though, they invited me to come hang out in their pueblo (which is 5 minutes outside of the city) and we exchanged phone numbers for future outings. REAL LIVE SPAINSH FRIENDS :D

How did I end up here?

Ejemplo 1: My friend Alia took it open herself to plan some sort of event every week to get people out doing something that's more involved with the community. This week it was churros and a play. The churros were delicious but the play? Well it was a high school play. No pasa nada, I had nothing else to do so it didn't really matter but it was pretty comical. There Alia and I were, seated between all the parents with their cameras and small children, wondering what high school drama teacher would let these 17 year old girls wear 4 inch heels and dresses so short I could see up them from my seat. Those españolas develop their look young.

Ejemplo 2: This morning I woke up wishing I was headed off to Calvary with my Home away from Hope family. So instead I took out the good ol' CIEE handbook and looked up Evangelical churches. Turns out there was one that started in 45 minutes and was only 15 minutes from my house. So armed with my paper and pencil, umbrella, and a euro for a pastry along the way, I headed off to church.

The search for this church was slightly different then my search for a church in Holland, MI, with its 170 places of worship. No instead I had 3 options and I simply chose the first one on the list. When I arrived the church consisted of a single rectangular room with 4 chairs on either side of the aisle and about 20 rows of chairs. The service lasted for 2 hours and was rather intriguing. The worship team sat in a circle on the same level as everyone else and the worship consisted of people praying as they felt led and requesting particular songs. It was neat to be in a circumstance where Protestant churches were not the majority and the church body was truly stripped down to the most basic elements. Plus, I was able to understand the whole service! I'll definitely plan on going back the other Sundays I'm in Sevilla.

How did I end up here? The question is not the planning, walking, or arriving but rather the course of events that led me to arrive in a particular place. Multiple times this weekend I've taken in a deep breath and just wondered how it is that I am in this place, so far from home, in a community that a month ago was not my own. Thankfully, I know these plans have been laid out before me and am able to enjoy each experience with wonder and appreciation.

Sorry for the lengthy post and lack of photos... the events of the weekend weren't exactly SLR sort of outings!

¹Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. ²Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Hebrews 12:1-3