Those Crazy Spaniards . . .

Among the words that I will never forget after my year in Spain (which include "¡bandejas!" and "¡vamos chicos!") are the words "¡Valencia en Fallas!" These words belong to Valencia's biggest fiesta and are the beginning of the chorus to a song with the same title. What are "Las Fallas"? Bascially, an excuse to stay up late and light firecrackers and burn things. Yay! A pyromaniac's paradise! Seriously though, las Fallas technically start March 1 although there's preparations for them all year long. A "falla" itself is actually a wood/cardboard/wax/paper construction that can be up to 3-4 stories tall that they burn the night of the 19th. The fallas normally poke fun at different politicians and controversial events. The only person that they can't make fun of is the king. Oh, and there are Fallas Infantiles (little ones normally kid-friendly) and Fallas Mayores (bigger ones that can be x-rated). Every afternoon at 2pm there's a "mascleta," which is a 5-10 minute fireworks show with the objective of making the most noise possible.

It gets so loud towards the end that it's deafening even with your ears plugged and you feel like you're in the middle of WWII.

The school took us to one on March 4 and I took a short video before I couldn't stand not covering my ears anymore. I know it doesn't sound that loud over the computer, but trust me, it was crazy. After that, we went to the Ninot Exposition. This is where each fallero group picks one of their ninots (dolls/statues) from their falla that they think is emblematic of their falla and enter it in a competition. After the competition, the winning Ninot Infantil and the winning Ninot Mayor are kept aside to save in a museum and all the rest are put out with their falla to be burned later. Yep, all that work every year and EVERYTHING gets burned except for two small statues such as these

My next event to experience with las Fallas was a free, outdoor concert in a city park Saturday night the 15th. I'd never heard of the artist before but Cristian and his friends had invited me along, so heck, why not?

The opening acts were crum but the main band, M-CLAN was actually pretty good. My only problem with them was they played "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart and it drove me nuts that they were singing it in Spanish because then I couldn't sing along in Spanish (since I obviously don't know the Spanish lyrics) nor could I sing along in English because the Spanish input was driving all memory of English lyrics out of my head. Great music but just a little bit frustrating, but I still had a great time. After that, was a fireworks show and then we all wandered around the streets meeting up with different random people and looking at fallas.

Cristian, Jennifer (friend of Elias that had been in Spain that summer and now is studying in Italy), and I crashed at Elias and his brother's apartment around 4am and then got up at noon the next day to go into Valencia again for more. After the mascleta, I decided to go back to the school for some much needed rest since I'm not used to the whole Fallas schedule like all the Spaniards.

Tuesday evening I headed back in with Sasha, another ACA student here, and we watched the Ofrenda de Flores and took many pictures of pretty costumes and cute kids and the monument to the Virgen.

I liked the Fallas' Virgen better than the Virgen de Pilar in Zaragoza because the flower-covered structure actually ended up looking like a woman at the end and had the correct dimensions.

Then we went and sat in Starbucks reading (Sasha) and people-watching (me) for a couple hours before it was time to head off to fight our way through the crowds to get a good spot to watch the Nit de Foc (Valenciano for "Noche de Fuego" [castellano] or "Night of Fire" [english]). It all went well until we tried to get around a corner. Then we were squished beyond belief in what I thought was the worst manner possible until I experienced worse the next night. But we made it through and sat ourselves down in the street to wait for the show.

While waiting we alternately chatted with some French girls in Valencia studying Spanish and a middle-aged man that practiced his English with us while we practiced our Spanish with him. Yay for random conversations! And then there were the fireworks. I had already seen one of the fallas' "castellos" (what they call fireworks in Valenciano) the night of the concert and since we had been a ways away (think 3-5 second delay on the sound of the bangs) and it had been so long that I had started to get a little bored, I was a tiny bit skeptical about this show. But it did NOT disappoint.

I have never seen such good fireworks in my life. It's like New Year's Eve, the Fourth of July, and the end of the world all rolled into one. We were just one bridge down from where they were setting them off and it felt like we were directly underneath them.

The show went for about 14 minutes or so and it seemed as if there were four or five different fireworks shows all rolled into one, each with their own finale. And the actual finale itself had to have lasted for 4 minutes solid. Absolutely amazing. I will never be satisfied with another show.

Unless of course I get to come back to Spain for las Fallas sometime. Keeping the fingers crossed. Right after the fireworks show ended, Sasha and I muscled our way back around the corner, got called "chicas agresivas," and ran our way back to the train station to catch the last train back to Sagunto.

Oh, one other fun point to the show. You know how in the States they'll start the fireworks as soon as it's dark so that you can get the kiddies to bed at a decent hour, 10ish or so? Well, the Valencians have a different perspective. The fireworks didn't START until 1:30am. Woohoo! Which is why we were worried about catching our 2:20am train. But we made it just fine. The next day was spent sleeping really late and then we headed back into Valencia at 7pm for "la Crema" or more descriptively put, the pyromaniacs' paradise.

We wandered around the streets looking at fallas and shopping in the street markets until 10pm when we got to see our first falla burn. Even for a little falla, it still made quite the bonfire.

Afterwards there was more wandering during which we sampled "bunyoles" (a donut that's kinda like a churro)

and looked at other fallas, such as the 2nd place one (my favorite),

until around midnight when we watched a falla mayor burn. This one was a little hotter than expected and it was great fun to watch the crowds try to push their way back.

Here's the burning schedule more or less: fallas infantiles: 10pm, first place and the town plaza one: 11pm; fallas mayores: 12am, first place and the town plaza one: 1am. Yay for staying up late! Then it was push and shove and be carried by the crowd as we tried to situate ourselves in a good spot to watch the falla from the town plaza burn.

At one point we stayed in the same spot for a good 10-15 minutes without being able to move. Completely dangerous as you never know who's going to elbow you or throw up near you (yep, that happened to me . . . stupid drunk got a speck of it on my sleeve, too, grrrr). I don't know how the really short ones survived.

After being shoved and pushed for more than 45 minutes and doing some shoving and pushing of our own, Chris, Shaun, Sasha, Brittany, and I landed ourselves in a decent viewing spot where some Basque guys promptly started to hit on Sasha after Chris' yells of exuberance for las Fallas had alerted them to the fact that we were Americans. Quite funny actually to listen to them offer us (and specifically Sasha) a place to stay at their apartment that night. Unfortunately they were smoking pot and second-hand pot is NOT a favorite of mine. But the falla from the plaza did not disappoint and it was great to watch it burn while they set off another mascleta-type fireworks show from the plaza at the same time.

Once again, the Spaniards come up with some crazy ways to have fun but it's amazing!!! And basically I would love to come back to Spain every year after this for las Fallas. And then stay another week down in Andalucia for Semana Santa. Why Andalucia? Because we went there after las Fallas on a 9-day school trip there and it was b-e-a-utiful. Tell you about that next time. Chau chau!

The Land of the Dutch!!

I'd have to say that one of my favorite parts of being in Europe and getting to travel is visiting the countries that I KNOW I have ancestors from. Being in Germany brought out the German roots just a little more (along with being mistaken for a German in Rome) and being in Holland had almost the exact same effect. The only problem was that I wasn't able to visit the Dutch cousins due to some technical difficulties. But next time! Next time I will find them. Our visit started with a train ride from Eindhoven up to Groningen.

Why were we visiting the virtually unheard-of city of Groningen? (Which, by the way, is pronouced with a hawkingish h-sound at the beginning) Well, that would be because Southern Adventist University was doing an orchestra tour through Belgium and Holland and their concerts in Groningen were the ones that Brittany and I could make it to. And we wanted to see Emily.

And even that was pushing it a little as we were skipping a Friday of classes the weekend before quarter finals. But no worries. I'm pretty sure we both did fine on our tests afterwards. Anywho, back to Holland. We made it safely into Groningen, despite missing one train connection. We just took the next train headed in the same direction and all was fine. After lunch in the train station, we decided that it was time to find the church for the performance that night, before wandering around Groningen, taking in the sights. It was at this point that I realized that I had not remembered to print out directions to the church. Nor did I remember the name of the church. But no worries, we would just find an internet cafe, log onto Myspace, reread e-mails, and Google the place. No problem right? Well, we found an internet cafe and it was even free! But they had Myspace blocked. At this point, it was my random memory skills that remember things like it originally took 27 hours to hand-make a peep (those nasty Easter candies) that allowed me to remember that the name of the church was something along the lines of "Martinkerk." Google helped me to realize that it was actually spelled "Martinikerk" and after checking out their webpage, we confirmed that yes, there was a performance by SAU that night at the church. Score!

So we went our merry little way off into the drizzle to experience Holland. Our first realization was just how much the Dutch use their bikes. Oh my goodness. Death by bike is actually a legitimate worry in Holland. There are so many bikes and you're more likely to see a parking garage like this than parking space for cars.

Unfortunately for us, it was not tulip season yet, the other famous Dutch characteristic. However, the daffodils and crocuses were blooming so we still got flowers.

There were also the canals, of course.

And also, by some magic streak of luck, as we were walking around Martinikerk, getting pictures from all sides, we stumbled across what were probably the only four blooming tulips in all of Holland. Right there, just clumped together for us. Made me happy, it did.

The reunion with Emily was great, the concert was amazing,

the organ stellar, the skull head sticker in the heat vent disconcerting,

the coffee in the department store yummy, and the all around atmosphere that first night great. Brittany and I had booked a room in the same hostel as the orchestra so we just became groupies for the trip and rode with them back to Sneek (pronounced "snake") for the night. There, we talked till 1am or so before going to bed. The next day included a concert for the worship service at the SDA church in Groningen and a soup and sandwich potluck afterwards.

Another great Dutch experience in which we met a little old lady who actually had heard of Idaho, and even Boise since she had relatives there and also got to taste a fake ham that's better than Wham. It was also the first time that in the name of providing translation services I saw TWO headphone splitters used on the same device.

Afterwards, the orchestra packed up again and drove down to the Amsterdam Marriot airport hotel. There, Brittany and I (with permission from the orchestra director) snuck into Emily's room with the intentions of sleeping on the floor. Since Southern was leaving the next morning at 4:45 for the airport, the only logical thing for the three of us to do was party till all hours of the night.

We started off by taking the fast public bus to Haarlem where we saw Corrie Ten Boom's house,

a cheese shop (that unfortunately closed 10 minutes before we got there - no Spanish schedule here folks!),

bought Stroopwafels, and had coffee (with a "k"!) in a restaurant before heading back to the hotel.

Then we headed down to the lobby to talk rather than disturb Emily's three roommates. But we only were there a little while before management kicked us out since I was lounging on their sofas in pajama pants. Oops. So we trekked up to 10th floor and parked ourselves on the floor of the elevator lobby by some chairs where we figured no one else would bother us. And no one else in the form of humans did. However, as we were preparing to head back down to sleep (at 1am of course - Emily could sleep on the plane), when the elevator doors opened, out came a little dog, all by himself.

I still cannot think of a good explanation on how that dog got into the elevator all by himself. However, we picked him up, went down to grab a camera, took some pictures, named him "Brinker," and then delivered him down to the front desk where we relieved a rather worried desk worker.

Then it was off to bed. Sunday morning Brittany and I crawled into bed after the Southern girls and Emily left before actually getting up around 8am. Then it was a never-ending journey by public transport back to Spain. It went like this: public bus, another bus, tram, walk around Amsterdam in the rain for 30 minutes,

train, bus, plane, metro, train, and walk back to the school in the dark. Yay for public transportation!! And that was Holland folks. Here's a foggy/rainy picture of a windmill to round out the Dutch experience.


Oh and the fuzzy slippers at the airport that I really wanted to buy but couldn't cause they were too expensive (stupid euro).

Gira a Castilla: Madrid!

The last couple days of our trip were spent in the capital of this amazing country: Madrid.

The first night that we arrived, we had nothing to do other than wander around half the city in search of cheap pizza just to finally decide on kebabs from the place almost directly in front of our hotel. The next day was spent outside of Madrid rather than inside of it. Our first stop was at the Escorial, palace/monastery/cathedral/private school all rolled into one.

Originally built for Felipe II, he spent half of his ruling time in Madrid in a normal palace and the other half in the Escorial, living in three tiny, bare rooms, basically coming as close to a monk as a ruling king can. The building complex itself was more or less what you would expect from Spanish architecture, so nothing new there. However, two really cool aspects of the Escorial are the library and the crypt. The libary is like most others expect that all of the books are shelved so that the pages rather than the binding are showing. Kind of odd and I don't remember the explanation, but it was neat to see all the shiny golden-edged pages facing out. Another great aspect of the library was the ceiling, which had paintings of all the different academic and philosophic areas. And yes, I will admit that I'm enough of a math nerd that I was double checking their addition in the painted equations.

The crypt at the Escorial holds the bodies of almost all the monarchs and their spouses since Carlos V. The coffins are arranged in such a manner so that the monarchs are on one side of the room and the spouses are on the other. Isabel II is the only woman to be buried on the monarchs' side, with her husband Francisco de Asis being the only man on the spouses' side. The royal bodies aren't placed immediately in the crypt but rather are placed in a "rotting room" first for fifty years to deteriorate down to the bones and lose their smell before going into the ornate crypt. All the spots left are now taken up by bodies still in the rotting room, which means that the currently living Spanish royalty have to decide where they want to be buried.

After the Escorial, we drove out to "El Valle de los Caídos." *

This monument is out in the middle of the mountains and is a memorial/burial ground for troops who fell during the Civil War. Commissioned by Franco, after it was finished, he decided that he too wanted to be buried there and thus, he is.

By far my favorite cathedral in Spain, the monument has a huge 100m high stone cross outside and a cathedral carved into the mountain. With huge soaring stone vaulted ceilings and enormous creepy statues of archangels (which look more like fallen angels to me), the cathedral doesn't really feel like a church.

It makes me think more of a pagan worshipping place that the dwarves in Middle Earth might have constructed for themselves inside the Mines of Moria. Creepy, but a very, very cool creepy.

After we got back to Madrid, we all went out to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe for Erin's birthday.

Quite the undertaking considering the first time the bus we needed came by the bus stop, it didn't stop for us and the restaurant apparently doesn't normally do reservations and the tables weren't set up for a group when we arrived.

However, a good time was still had by all and I had some AMAZING (expensive, but amazing) American food. Mmmmm... yay for Caesar salad and Spinach & Artichoke dip with real tortilla chips that weren't stale. And on the way back from the restaurant, we had a lesson in statistics and that pedestrians are NOT almighty.

Our next full day in Madrid started with a walking tour of the city, passing by the Prado, numerous plazas with fountains, arches, the Plaza de Sol (that's Madrid's city symbol in the background, the bear and the tree),

where Kilometer 0 is located (starting measuring point of all highways in Spain),

the Plaza Mayor,

and the shopping districts. We had lots of free time before meeting up again in the afternoon for a tour of the Prado. During that wandering, not only did Brittany and I find a couple different yarn stores and buy yarn to make a baby set for an American ACA couple here who left early after 2nd semester who couldn't go to Madrid because she got pregnant and was having morning sickness problems (Brittany knit the hat and I knit the booties and did the eyes and feather poof on the hat),

but we also found a used antique bookstore where we spent a good hour. Although I don't have a picture and really wish I did, I found a book in the store that had been written by an "Eugenio Noel." Maybe we do have Spanish relations. Who knows? Another fun shop that I found was this one. It's a good thing that Jacque got married to who she did because now we have a name for that fifth J.

The Prado is a really good museum and the most important in Spain, but I would have enjoyed it more if the tour hadn't been in the afternoon and my feet hadn't been killing me and if I could have taken pictures like in the Louvre. As such, I didn't take advantage of the extra time after the tour to look around more on my own, but since I'll be back to Spain someday, it doesn't really matter, right?

Our last day in Spain only had one scheduled visit - the Palacio Real. However, before heading off with the school, I got up a little early to walk/jog over to the main city park to see the Crystal Palace. Although it was cloudy and crappy weather, the palace was still really pretty and I would totally want to get married there if I lived in Madrid or anywhere close.

After that was the Palacio Real. This Palace isn't the residence of the current kings (although past kings have lived there), but rather is a museum when it's not being used to State functions and such. Apparently the school had only paid for us to visit the Armoury and the Farmacy musuems, but not knowing that, Sasha, Brittany, Amanda (friend from the States who's SMing in Madrid), and I bluffed our way into the actual palace with the permission of the guard to look really quick for our teacher to find out what was going on. Of course, we ended up going through the whole palace at a leisurely touring pace, but I will say that I kept my eyes open for Chelo the entire time.

After the palace, it was more free time to shop and walk around Madrid on our own before loading up the bus and beginning the 4-5 hour trip back. All in all a good tour. Except that I never could find just the right black boots to buy. *sigh*

*pictures of the interior of el valle de los caidos are taken from a random website because we weren't supposed to take pictures inside and i was too lazy to try to be sneaky with my camera.