Cordoba, Cordoba, Cordoba

Finally, I have time to write an update about Cordoba! This is exciting for me because I really, really enjoyed Cordoba. Or, to be more specific, I really, really enjoyed the mosque at Cordoba.

Some of the girls at the ruins of Zahara!

On this particular trip, we first went by some ancient Arab ruins about 25 minutes outside of Cordoba. The site was once a Moorish palace, built by some really rich and powerful guy for his concubine (at least I assume that concubina is the Spanish word for concubine. I could be wrong.). The palace and surrounding grounds were named Zahara, after the aforementioned concubine. I think the relationship between this king and his woman must have been pretty powerful because it was pretty clear that the palace was a huge deal back in its day. The buildings and gardens were almost completely destroyed by the Visigoths, but the little that was left screamed elegance and luxury.


After the Arab ruins we went on to Cordoba, which is famous for its silver jewelry (some of which I bought) and the mosque-converted-to-a-cathedral.




The mosque was more incredible that I can convey to you in words. It was huge, grand, immense, but never domineering. The arches were full and tall, and the was a wonderful sense of peace within the place. In fact, I felt that mosque was a far more spiritual place than some of the cathedrals we've visited. The only downsides to the mosque were the areas that had been infected by the Christians' gaudy, tacky alters made of solid gold and dripping with disdain for the common man. Very disappointing, since I sort of feel that "Christian" structures would be better if they were welcoming to people. Again, I could be wrong.

More wanderings and discoveries

I realized about a week after I arrived here in Spain that I had forgotten the cord that hooks up my camera to the computer. Really troublesome, because that meant that I would be able to post pictures or even remove pictures from the camera in order to make room for new ones. However, the Center has a little tool that I can use instead, and thus you, faithful friends and family, can now take part in my experiences.

About a week and a half ago we took a day trip to Ronda and Marbella. Ronda was a really beautiful town, full of white-washed buildings and absolutely breathtaking scenery. They have a gorge that runs pretty much through the middle of the town, and yet there's this amazing bridge that goes over the top of it all. I have no idea how long the edifice has been there, but it's got to be older than America (most everything is here).

Just me, hanging out in front of an amazing view.

The super amazing bridge/gorge. We don't have one in the US.

This is how the professional matadors do it.

Marbella was a seaside resort city, home to the very rich and possibly famous British elite. The docks were filled with row after row of enormous yatchs, the streets were filled with English accents ordering wine or beer or buying Versace, and the beaches were filled with tourists, tourists, and some topless tourists. Still, it was right along the Mediterrean, and it was lovely.

This was the view of our coastline in Marbella.

Gigantic lollipop that cost more than a plane ticket to Paris!

Next blog (whenever I have time...) will be Cordoba!!!

España is my new home!

My new address for the semester:

Jennifer Wainscott
Recaredo 44
41003 Sevilla, Spain

Don't worry, I'm not expecting any of you to send me a huge package that cost $37.28 to ship over here, but if you ever get the whim to write to someone in Spain, you can always write to me. I think it costs $.79 or something to send.

It has been just over a full week since I've been in Spain. Isn't that wild? I feel like I've been here longer than that, maybe because we've been "forced" (can you really force a person like me to explore Europe?)to get to know the city already. So far the city has been very good to me. I still get lost on occasion, but I recognize more and am able to find my way home from almost anywhere. So many of the streets look alike, but if one takes the time to look closely, one can see that each one varies bit by bit. For example, nearly every single block here has at least one farmacia (pharmacy). This means that in half a mile, at least 12 farmacias can be found. It also means that the people of Sevilla need never worry about the common cold.

On Friday, our group is going to Ronda and maybe someplace else. I've been told that Ronda is one of the most beautiful towns in the entire country, and from the few pictures I've seen I believe it. We'll be going to a bull fight on Sunday, which will be... interesting. I'm not sure how I feel about bullfighting just yet, but I guess I'll find out soon.

Some things I miss so far:
Air Conditioning (only a few places have it)
My pillow
Cold beverages (everything here is room temp. or lightly cooled)
Liquid hand soap (I know, random)
Family and friends!

I'm one of the few students living without a roommate this semester, a situation which definitely has some ups and downs. The "ups" include having my own room, not worrying about coordinating shower/bathroom time and not having to worry about stepping on one more person's toes. The "downs" include being alone (a lot - wandering the town alone, riding buses alone, etc), having no one to help fill in the awkward silences made by the language barrier, and having no one to share cab fee with. I know, I know, I'm a big baby. Still, it's tricky trying to get to know people in another language, and doing it alone doesn't simplify things.

Yesterday my host parents had their family over for a huge lunch of gazpacho, something like potato salad, dried ham, cheese, bread, fruit and Cruzcampo (the local beer). Maria, their 5-year-old granddaughter, really liked me because I'm "la Americana" and wanted to play with me the whole time. That was okay by me since our language skills are pretty even.

El primero de España!

Hooray! I´m in Spain! It took 4 flights, 3 layovers, several granola bars and a lot of mental translation, but I made it. So far, Sevilla is ridiculously hot. I mean, super duper, sleep-on-the-tile-floor hot. It´s also gorgeous, but only in some areas. Other areas are your typical city setting with lots of apartments, buses, and graffiti.

My host parents are Ana and Pepe. At first glance, they look like retired beach bums. At second glance, they look like retired beach bums on a schedule. I haven´t had time for a third glance yet. They´re both really nice and keep feeding me delicious food. It´s a good thing we´ve been walking so much or else I´d get fat in a flash. Yesterday I talked with Ana about all kinds of things, including her granddaugter and my niece. They´re about the same age, so that provided a good deal of discussion.

Today we went to Italica, which is this town of Roman ruins a little ways outside of the city. It boggles my mind to think that amazing things like Roman ruins are practically commonplace here. I´ll have some more to say later, but for now this is all the time I have. Adios!


The Roman ampitheater
Passage ways leading to the stands

More ampitheater
Some really excellent mosaic tile. Everything left here is original.

You can't beat the axis if you get VD.

Man still hath either toys, or care;
He hath no root, nor to one place is tied,
But ever restless and irregular
About this Earth doth run and ride.
He knows he hath a home, but scarce knows where;
He says it is so far,
That he hath quite forgot how to go there.

- from Man by Henry Vaughan

I wish I was a poet. I enjoy poetry immensely and wish that I had the talent of creating such art with words. I can write, surely, just as any other Joe (or Jane?) walking down the street can, but I cannot turn my prose into poetry. A research paper could never be made to have the same feeling as a sonnet, just as an old house cat could never fool anyone into thinking it was a wild tiger.
Once, in seventh grade, I wrote a poem about a lawn mower. Why? Because the poem was due in class the next day and I had to mow the lawn that evening. And after all of that it turns out that I am highly allergic to grass. Not exactly poetic, but certainly a bit ironic. The teacher, however, took pity on me and gave me full points, even though I probably deserved a C-. We had to write other poems in that class, and I'm sure the only reason I passed that particular unit was because I included some truly great comparisons in my poems. I can compare things like no one's business. Okay, alright, that's not true, but it is something I can do somewhat well. Well enough to pass a poetry class anyway. Alas and alack, we all have our skills and sadly mine do not include poetic writing.

But maybe that's not true either. After all, I once wrote about half a dozen limericks for a scavenger hunt. Think that counts?

On a complete change of subject, here's an old ad I thought was funny: