O Valencia!

The main falla of 2012

Las Fallas are an event that is impossible to describe in words; imagine a month long festival that revolves around fireworks, firecrackers, bonfires, and any other type of flammable insanity you can think of. The festivities culminate on March 19th, the Feast Day of St. Joseph, when the entire community of Valencia gathers in the streets to party all day and night and then burn down these massive floats that permeate the city. I don't think "floats" really does the fallas justice, since they're more like building-size pieces of art. I honestly couldn't imagine building one of these things only to ultimately watch it get torched to the ground in a matter of seconds (unless I got to be the one to light it).

The festival is such a big event in Spain that getting a hostel to stay in is pretty much impossible, so we took a bus there just for the day--leaving Madrid 9:00am Monday morning, and returning the next day after twenty-three hours of debauchery. We could already see the smoke and hear the firecrackers as we drove in at 2:00pm, with the Mediterranean Sea right at our side. The bus dropped us off in front of the Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias, this visually mind-blowing complex of museums, an aquarium, a planetarium, an opera house, and more right in the middle of the city. It would have been awesome to go inside, but considering our limited amount of time we wanted to head right into downtown to find the fallas.

Arriving in the city center, we began to see fallas appearing on practically every street corner. I have no idea how many days they had already been sitting there, since they definitely obstruct traffic throughout the entire city. These monuments litter the streets, and usually have some kind of satirical message constructed in the design. It also felt like a Fourth of July celebration; they're were people setting off fireworks all over the place, and little kids lighting firecrackers right on the sidewalk (my brother Connor would have loved it all).

The night ended up being great, thanks to the company of old friends and new friends. There was wild dancing on every street--which led to a massive tear through my pants and only added to the craziness--while fireworks continued for hours. At midnight, we were able to watch the burning of the nearest falla, which was quickly incinerated into an ashy frame. Probably the most ridiculous part of the night was how all of that fire set off some kind of celestial sprinkler system, and it started pouring the minute all of the festivities ended. Unfortunately, we were a good thirty minute walk away from the bus stop, so everyone had a very wet bus ride back to Madrid.

Before...

...after. 

Spring Semester

New semester, new classes. The best thing about school this semester is definitely the schedule: Monday and Tuesday packed with classes, and then practically a five-day weekend every week starting on Wednesday (minus one movie class on Thursday evenings). My "American" classes are Syntax, a course on Cervantes, and then a Spanish cinema class. I'm really enjoying them all so far and like all of the professors.

One of my "Spanish" classes is Contemporary History. I do like it, but it's really hard to stay focused in that class. It starts at 8:30 in the morning, and the teacher just sits in her desk and talks at us for ninety minutes. It's interesting, and I can understand her well when I pay attention. However, it's very easy to drift off for a minute, and then after that it's pretty much over. But as long as I'm sitting next to someone with a computer to peek at, I can usually find my place again. Like a lot of Spanish classes, the entire grade for the class depends on the final exam, so it requires very little work during the semester and then a lot of pressure on that one test. Unfortunately, I just discovered all of the mandatory "lab" days we have for the class are scheduled during my other classes, so there's a good chance I'm going to fail this class anyway for lack of attendance. This is a problem I still need to resolve.

My last class brings up a whole new load of problems I have with our program. I was bent on taking a class in the College of Psychology (which we aren't allowed to do), and I wasn't going to let lack of resolve be the reason I wasn't able to. I talked to the professors of the classes I wanted, the registrar's office at the university here in Madrid, and even an advisor back at Cal Poly to make sure all of my bases were covered. Everyone said okay, and I just needed my program to give me permission. Well, the directors we have here in Spain both said no, it's not possible (even though in the program brochure we received before arriving it explicitly says that it is possible). So, I wrote to the main office in Long Beach. The email exchange was so outrageously frustrating I couldn't even believe it. I received emails about irrelevant topics, then I was ignored, and then I was told I was prohibited from contacting them again. I don't understand why these people work for a university if they aren't willing to deal with students.

I didn't come to Spain to not take a single psychology course. One of the main reasons to study abroad is after all to learn about your own field of study from another cultural perspective. So, even though for my fifth class I am technically enrolled in a philosophy course, I'm taking it credit/no credit; I haven't attended once, so I'm intentionally failing it and won't receive the credit. Instead, I travel every Monday and Tuesday to a farther campus where the Psychology School is located, where I have a Psychology of Language course. I love what I'm learning there, and it's probably my favorite class. I'm not technically in the class and I won't receive a grade for it at the end, but I still participate in all of the work we have like a regular student. It's pretty sad that I have to fail one class in order to have another that I enjoy, but IP has done me enough academic damage this year. They will not keep fucking with my education.

I just summed up about two months of constant problems in two paragraphs. I could easily write an entire blog, if not a short novel, on the grief they have caused me, and I probably will. But, the director of the entire CSU Study Abroad program is going to be in Madrid in a couple of weeks and asked to meet with me. I honestly can't wait, and I do feel reassured to be able to talk with him one-on-one. I just hope the positive feelings remain after the meeting as well. Vamos a ver. 

GAY LISBOA!

I really didn't have high expectations for Portugal before leaving. I had heard a lot of good things about it from friends who had already traveled to Spain's neighbor, but to me Lisbon just seemed like another European city. Then my hopes of the trip dropped from lackluster to abysmal right from the beginning, when my wallet was stolen after being in the country for a grand total of thirty minutes. I lost all my identification, my credit cards, my metro pass, and the abnormally large amount of cash I was carrying to start off the trip. I thought for sure my entire weekend was ruined, and had I been in another country, it might have been. 

First of all, Lisbon is a beautiful city. I heard it was kind of like San Francisco, and I can definitely see some similarities. It doesn't feel as big--even though SF is pretty small too--and there are no skyscrapers dominating the city. But, Lisbon does have a lot of hills, and one of the main forms of transportation is cable car as well. It's right on the coast with a lot of colorful buildings, and there's even a bridge that looks like the identical twin of a certain golden bridge in the Bay Area. 

Not the best picture... but it looks exactly like the Golden Gate. 

Can't do this in Madrid. 

Saving money became a crucial part of the trip for me, so I was pleasantly surprised by how cheap food and drinks were. Our first stop was a little cafeteria that served traditional Portuguese dishes, and whatever we ate (I'm not exactly sure of the contents), was not only delicious but very affordable. Both days in the city were very low-key, as we just walked around the downtown area, explored the different neighborhoods, visited a centuries-old Moorish castle, and enjoyed delicious pastries (the brisa is incredible). Lisbon is known for it's nightlife, although so is Madrid, so I didn't think there was a way it could be much better. However, in Portugal it's legal to drink outside, which means throngs of people filling the streets drinking and partying. In Madrid we have our botellones, but nothing to this scale, since the police will inevitably break it up sooner or later. We made new friends on the streets both nights there, and when the weather is nice, it's very pleasant to have your fiesta outside in the fresh, spring air. 

Now, I don't think it's good to stereotype a group of people for any reason, but since this is something positive, allow me one generalization: Portuguese people are the friendliest people I have ever met in my life (and probably the best looking). I was constantly blown away by the amiability of every single person I interacted with, even just the drivers who would almost always stop their car if you were trying to cross the street instead of just blazing by. A guy I met one night offered to give me some money after he heard about my wallet situation--which I didn't take but it was still really thoughtful of him--and a group of students we met the next night ended up becoming new friends when they offered to take us out. Plus, the anti-American sentiment I've felt in other places in Europe was completely the opposite in Lisbon. I also met some really nice Brazilians, so maybe it's a Portuguese-speaking peoples thing? It's possible the world could be a much better place if everyone just learned Portuguese. 

The trip was definitely not ruined, and despite the initial problems, it ended up being an amazing time. Just the fact that Portugal is a "weekend trip" like Santa Barbara would be back home is unbelievable. I definitely want to go back and see more of the country, and honestly, it's definitely a place I could see myself living for a period of time in the future.