American Thanksgiving in Spain

Thanksgiving Day, or el dia de accion de gracias, is not celebrated in Spain. It isn’t even observed here. Surprisingly though, when I tell people about it they immediately know what I am referring to. “Is that the day that everyone sits at a big table and eats turkey?” is what they all ask me.

Thanksgiving is and probably will always be my favorite holiday. I have so many wonderful memories from the past from this day. It is the day when all of my family members get together and have a great time cooking, eating, playing and even dancing. This was the very first Thanksgiving that I was spending away from my family and it did make me really sad.

Fortunately, my friends in Alicante were planning a Thanksgiving dinner there that was going to be held on Friday to coordinate with everyone’s work schedule. I was super excited about being able to spend Thanksgiving with other Americans and even volunteered to make a sweet potato pie.

I had originally planned to make some sweet potato pies on Wednesday and bring them to school on Thursday to share with the other teachers, but things didn’t go according to plan. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week were extremely rainy days, and because of the excessive flooding in Jávea, school was canceled on Tuesday and Wednesday and I was not able to go to the store. So Thursday was just a regular day. I went to school (and talked about Thanksgiving to all of my classes), went to my Valenciano class, and came home.

Later that day, I went to the British supermarket, Iceland, to get some items for baking. Fortunately I was able to find several items that I needed, including pie crust, which I have been desperately searching for.

When I got back home I skyped my family to see what they were up to and I was so happy to be able to talk to everyone, including my cousins and aunts. That made my day. I also got my mom’s sweet potato pie recipe from her, since this was my very first time making it.

That night I stayed up late making my pies. I wanted to make two: one to leave at my piso, and the other to take with me to Alicante for our Thanksgiving celebration. In the morning, I left one of the sweet potato pies on the kitchen counter with a note attached to it telling to my roommates to try it.

On Friday morning, I took a bus to Alicante. My trip to Alicante was actually for business and pleasure. The pleasure of course being the Thanksgiving dinner, and the business is that I was finally going to pick up my NIE/Tarjeta de Identidad (which is a card that proves that I am a Spanish resident) after a very long process.  As soon as I got to Alicante I immediately caught a bus to the NIE office and picked up my card. I was surprised at how quick and easy the entire process was. I am happy to say that I am now officially a resident of Spain!

Once I picked up my NIE I headed back to the center of the city, stopped somewhere for breakfast (I was famished) and then headed to meet my American friend for some grocery shopping.

I love going to the fresh food market in Alicante because it’s so large and there is such a wide variety of things (But honestly, every market would probably look huge in comparison to Javea’s). The first floor is full of fresh fruit and vegetable stands. There is also a lot of bread, cheese, preserves and things and seafood located on that floor.  The second floor is where all of the meats are located. And I wouldn’t suggest going there to anyone that has a weak stomach because the Spanish people are not so concerned about taking body parts off when it comes to the meat.  There were lots of skinned rabbits (Rabbit is very popular here), bulls faces, and a lot of other scary looking things. If there was ever a place for me to become a vegetarian, it would definitely be here. The two of us were looking for a Turkey, but they all had their long necks and heads attached to them so we decided to just let the American guy, who was also cooking with us, handle the meat part.

When we got back to the piso we immediately started preparing the food. I started cutting up the vegetables and things that we got from the market and she started preparing the salad and also tidying up her piso a bit. Later on, when all of the Americans got off work, we were joined by two others. I went to the store once again with someone else to buy some things to make chocolate brownies and an apple pie.  We made both of the desserts when we returned.

The whole cooking experience turned out to be very interesting. We were probably missing at least one ingredient for everything that we cooked (because we were in Spain of course) and we also almost burned up the piso trying to light the gas oven that none of us knew how to light; however, we all had a lot of fun cooking together.

The guests arrived around 9:30/10:00 pm (which is the regular Spanish dinner time) and we socialized and drank a little until all of the food was warmed up and on the table. The end result was great! We had two baked chickens (instead of turkey), stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, a green bean casserole, bread, a salad, and a sweet potato soufflé. For dessert, we had a sweet potato pie, chocolate brownies, an apple pie and vanilla ice cream. All of the guests brought wine, beer, and some other drinks.

Besides us 5 Americans that did the cooking, also in attendance were one of the girl’s American boyfriend, a Spanish co-worker of another American, one German guy, one French girl, and about 5 Italians. It was indeed an international Thanksgiving. I loved talking to the other people from different countries and also sharing my culture with them. I believe that everyone enjoyed the dinner and had a great time (and I must say that my sweet potato pie was awesome!) We stayed up late that night talking, drinking coffee, and watching funny youtube videos about different cultural stereotypes.

I stayed over my friend’s piso that night and went back to Jávea the next day.  When I got home, I saw that my roommates had tried the sweet potato pie and left notes for me thanking me and talking about how good it was.

I couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving in Spain!

Who Sounds Better: Part II

This weekend I stayed in Jávea. On Saturday night I went out to dinner with the British girl and also a friend of hers who is an auxiliar de conversacion en Dénia, a pueblo, or town, that’s close to Jávea. Her friend is also from England. We ate at one of my favorite restaurants in the arenal, the beach area. When I got to the arenal, I was so shocked at how dead it was. So many restaurants were closed, the ones that were open were so empty and there were hardly any people walking along the shore. During the summer time this is the liveliest place in town: it’s full of crowded restaurants, loud chatter, big lights and many bars. It is so interesting to see what a difference summer and winter make, especially in this town.

As we were at the restaurant we talked a little about politics in Europe and in America and then we began the conversation of accents. My friend is from southern England, so her accent is a little posh, while her friend is from Northern England, and her accent is much more butch. It is very easy to hear the differences between their speeches. Actually, I couldn’t even understand what her friend was saying half of the time.

At some point, they began to talk about the stereotypes associated with the different British accents and how big of a deal it is to most of the people living there. For example, a person from the south normally wouldn’t associate with someone from northern England because of the stereotypes associated with their accents. Because of my interaction with British people in Spain,  I could definitely believe everything she was saying as it pertains to this topic because some of the British people that I have met have talked about how “trashy” and “ridiculous” they think some English accents are.

But this concept really surprises me, disgusts me and interests me at the same time. How can one group of people judge another group of people just because they have different accents?  After I talked about how surprised I was that accents are such a big deal in England, one of the girls responded “well, it’s the same in the U.S. isn’t it?  People from different parts of the US have different accents.”  Yes it is definitely, I responded. It is very easy to distinguish between a southern accent, a northern accent and the accent of someone from California. But in the United States, a person’s accent doesn’t necessarily have a negative connotation attached to it.  I mean, sure you might hear a person from California speak and say, “Oh that’s a valley girl,” hear someone from the Bronx, New York and think that that they are tough and hear someone from the south and laugh at how slow and relaxed they speak, but I wouldn’t think that someone from one part of the U.S. would hear an accent from another part of the U.S. and turn the other way. Am I right or am I just thinking optimistically? Do Americans judge other Americans based on their accents?

Speaking of accents, as much as I love my two Spanish roommates, they both have the most intricate Spanish accents that I have heard. The other day, while returning home from our aerobics class, I told one of my roommates that her speech and the speech our other roommate is the most difficult for me to understand of almost everyone that I have met in Spain. One of my roommates speaks very fast, while the other one speaks to me as if she is singing; her words kind of flow together. After hearing this, my roommate was very shocked but also understanding of me. She told me that it’s because of where they are from and also because they are more comfortable speaking Valenciano than Castellano. Although both of my roommates are from different pueblos, they are both from the Valencian community, which is why there accents are somewhat similar to each other. Both of them grew up speaking mainly Valencian in their houses, and even as adults they speak Valencian to all of their friends, family members and locals that they come in contact with. Valencian comes natural to them. My roommate told me that when she speaks Castellano, or regular Spanish, to me it’s as if I am in America speaking Spanish to someone else. It’s just not her first language. This statement was very surprising to me but it really made me understand why my roommates speak the way that they do and why I can never understand them. The good thing is that if, by the end of my time here in Spain, I can understand those two perfectly, well then there shouldn’t be anyone that I won’t be able to understand.

Dia del Mestre

Today was an exciting day at school, el dia del mestre, or Spain’s version of a teacher appreciation day. The schedule was normal. The teachers went to the classes and the students didn’t pay them any attention. However, we did have a big feast in the middle of the day. I usually go home during the lunch break (12:30-3:00pm) but today I stayed to feast with the other teachers. For the teacher appreciation day, the director hired a catering service to cook us lunch. We sat at a long table and had a usual Spanish feast. The tapas/appetizers that they brought out were very good. There was the Spanish tortilla, bread, ham and cheese, watermelon, nuts, olives, anchovies, shrimp, and octopus (I didn’t eat the anchovies or the octopus). Of course, there was also lots of wine and beer. The main dish was a spinach and fish plate. As much as I would have rather of had another dish, I buckled down and ate the fish, and it wasn’t bad. For dessert, I had a pudding. The caterers also brought us a semi-frozen alcoholic beverage that was supposed to help the food go down. It was very strong. Lastly, I had a café con leche.

Normally, I would assume that at a teacher appreciation luncheon the teacher’s wouldn’t have to pay for it, but we each paid 10 Euros to eat. We did, however, get gifts. The director gifted each of us with very comfortable winter socks.

Also, at the dinner, we were given our amics invisibles, or invisible friends, in preparation for Christmas. This is similar to the Secret Santas that we have in the U.S. except there is a little twist to it. Each teacher was told to choose a celebrity to be; I chose Beyoncé. Little slips were placed into a box that contained our name and our celebrity name. Each teacher had to pick a slip, and the person that they chose is their amic invisible. So for the next 4 weeks of school, the teacher has to put little tricky gifts inside their invisible friend’s mailbox to leave the other person curious. At the end of the four weeks, all of the teachers bring a real gift (of about 15 Euros) for their invisible friend and share who they had. It sounds a little more complicated to me but I will go along with it.

The person that I picked from the box just so happened to be a teacher who is now on maternity leave, So I think that I have it easier than a lot of the other teachers do.

Who Sounds Better: Part I

After weeks of planning a day to get together and not being able to because of travelling and sickness and other things, the British girl living in Jávea and I finally agreed to go out to dinner today. We met at the port at 7:00pm and first stopped at a bar to have a drink. She had a beer while I had tea. Actually, I asked for tinto (red wine), and the waitress brought me tea, so I guess I learned a valuable lesson… Speak very loudly and exaggerate my Spanish vowels. I was actually pretty content though, because I had a very bad sore throat (my second one in a month) so the tea was just what I needed. Anyway, after we talked and drank for a little while we decided to eat at an Italian restaurant that specialized in pizza. When we walked into the restaurant it looked like British town. Let me remind you that I live in Jávea, which is a very popular destination for British and German people. Sometimes I forget how many British people actually live here because I live more in the old/historical part of town farther away from the beach. As soon as I got to the port, however, I was instantly reminded. The guy who owned the restaurant was British and he was at the table next to us eating and drinking with another British couple. We ate our pizza, which was delicious by the way, and drank our wine (I finally got my tinto) and we talked about the things that we have encountered in our schools in Spain that would never happen in the United States or Great Britain.

After eating and drinking for about 45 minutes, the people at the table next to us began to speak to us. They were all from England, of course. They asked us where we were from and we chatted about everything. The people were very nice and you could tell that they were pleased to meet some other English-speakers, especially young women who would laugh at all of their jokes. One of the men went on endlessly talking about how he and his wife had saved his one-eyed dog and also how he found out that his son was gay. At this point I felt a little uncomfortable because I didn’t know whether to laugh at the things he was saying or to be serious. Meanwhile, his wife, who was sitting across from him, kept talking about how he was telling the story wrong (actually she said that he was talking out of his “butt” to put it nicely).  We also talked a bit about my life in Atlanta; which is when the restaurant owner pulled up the GPS on his iPad and started to look at places in Atlanta.

The more time I spend with British people, (trust me I have met quite a few down here) the more I realize that many of them really don’t think highly of Americans, or of the American accent. To me, it’s quite interesting what a difference a British or American accent makes to people. I look at accents as a beautiful thing. I think that it’s so interesting that people from different countries can share a common language but yet sound so differently. And I definitely love to hear an American accent. Since I’ve been to Spain, I have met many Canadians, Australians and people from England, Scotland and Ireland and I am always amazed at the differences in words and pronunciations; but not once have I ever considered that one group of people may be better than or less significant than another group of people based on their accent.

Well in my experience talking with people here, I have realized that the English think very fondly of their own accents and most think that the American accent is trash. They don’t say these things directly to my face, of course, but they do say the most random things that make me think this way. For example, as we were talking to the couple, the lady began to tell us of how her son never had a strong British accent because their family had done so much travelling when he was young. According to the lady, every time someone would hear her son speak, they would say that he sounded like he had a Scottish/American accent. She said that she was very upset that people would say this about him and then she said to us, “Do you see what happens? You travel a lot and you start sounding like an idiot.” I didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that comment. Was she saying that her son sounded like an idiot because he had a Scottish or American accent, or because he didn’t have a British accent?

It seems that every time I am around British people the topic of accents appears, and it’s strange because I am never the one that brings it up. “You think that I speak very posh? You should hear the way my friend speaks,” said one girl that I came across. That’s great, except, I never said anything about her accent. She brought it up on her own. From my experiences, many British people come across as a little arrogant because of the way that they speak. I am very curious though to know how this came about. Could it have something to do with the British Royalty? Could it be related to the early conquest of British territories? Or could they just have a big ego from hearing the way that people in America and other nations talk about their accent? I am not sure but I would love to find out.

Thinking about the differences in English accents leads me to ponder on the differences in Spanish accents. Just like Great Britain claimed so many territories in the past, Spain did the same, which is why countries like Mexico, Costa Rica, and Argentina all speak Spanish of course. I haven’t gotten to the point yet where I can tell exactly from what part of the world a Spanish speaker is from but I have heard that most Spanish-speaking countries think of a Spanish (from Spain) accent as superior to their own. In fact, a couple of weeks ago, the director of the school here in Jávea, whose daughter I give private lessons to, told me to make sure that when her daughter speaks to me in English, she doesn’t sound like she’s from México or Peru. So basically she was saying that if her daughter happened to go to an English-Speaking country, make sure that the people there know that she is from Spain and not some Latin American or South American country. She didn’t necessarily make me mad when she said that, but just a little bothered.

At the end of the day I am very happy that we met the people at the restaurant. They were extremely friendly, funny and pleasant to be around. They even bought another bottle of wine for us to share. It’s great to have a good conversation in English every once in a while. I’m sure that the other girl enjoyed their company a little more than I did; however, because at the end of the day, they had a lot more in common with her than with me. To me they were just foreigners from another country who just so happened to speak English, but to her they reminded her of home. They did leave me, however, with a burning question. Do many people from one country think that they are superior to similar countries based on their accent, and if so, where in history did this idea come about?

A Mediterranean Feast

Tonight was a delightful twist to a busy workweek. One of the teachers in the colegio invited all of the teachers to his home to have dinner. So at about 7:00pm, most of us met in a parking lot next to the school so that we could carpool to his place. I rode in roommate’s car with her and some other teachers. Surprisingly, the teacher lived a little far from the town. It was about a 25-minute car ride. When we all got to his house we were stunned. It was so big and beautiful. He lived on a hill and the house was a distance away from other houses. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we realized that he had the most magnificent view of the town that he lived in and of the Mediterranean Sea. He also had a huge terrace and a parking lot that could probably fit about 15 vehicles. Stepping into his house, we saw a big dining room and a very nice kitchen. And the aroma of a fresh meal in the air was also very pleasant. The food smelled great!

He gave us a grand tour of his house. He had several bedrooms and bathrooms, an office and a huge balcony. Browsing through the room, I saw several pictures of his children. I wanted to ask him where his family was, and also how the heck he could afford a house like that, but I didn’t want to be too invasive.

The main dish was a seafood mixture with fish, shrimp, clams and lots of vegetables and sauces. It looked delicious. I was hesitant to try it because I don’t eat seafood, but I knew I was going to try some anyway because it would be rude and because I’m trying to be more adventurous. Besides, when you are living right off the Mediterranean Sea, you are going to see fresh seafood everywhere you go.



A Simmering Meal



While the main dish was simmering, we all helped set the table. There were several bottles of beer, wine, and cava, which is a Spanish champagne, and a few sodas and water. We also filled the table with tapas. Anytime you go to a Spanish get-together, the table setting would look something like this. Before the main dish comes out, the people will gather around the table, drink, and eat off of plates of smaller things, sort of like appetizers. For example, we set the table with ham, cheese, nuts, bread, duck paté (paté is a mixture of ground meat minced into a spreadable paste, it's usually eaten with bread or crackers), gambas (shrimp), anchovies, olives (Spanish people love olives) and potato chips. So usually, before the main dish even comes out I am full (and a little toasted).



Setting the Table

I asked the person who was serving the main dish to give me just a little fish to try (I didn’t want to throw up in front of everyone) and I had some shrimp as well. The dish turned out to be good. It was a little fishy to me, but other than that I could eat everything that was on my plate. The potatoes were awesome. The conversation at the table was great. Usually, when I’m in a setting like this, the teachers really try not to speak Valenciano. They try their best to include me in the conversation and they are always explaining the different food items to me. I appreciate them very much for that. One of the teachers poured more cava in my glass every time she saw that it was empty. So by the end of the night, I was feeling really good. For dessert, one of the teachers brought a chocolate pudding-like cake that she prepared herself. I am usually not a fan of a lot of the cakes that I’ve tried here, but that one was really good.



My Plate



Also, another one of the teachers prepared this frozen vanilla-flavored treat. It was like ice cream but it had a different texture. My roommate went on and on about how much she loved it.

We left the teacher’s house after 12am. According to the other teachers, the only reason why we left that “early” was because we had school the next day. I was extremely tired. I swear no one would ever guess that I was the youngest of the staff because I am always sleepy.

I very much enjoyed the gathering that we had.

I Went to Granada and Fell in Love...

Granada, a city in the region of Andalusia, Spain, is often called “The Moorish Jewel.” It is one of Spain’s most popular tourist destinations and I didn’t exactly understand why until I arrived there on Friday…

I went to Granada with the two Fulbrighters in Alicante; although one arrived Saturday because she had to work on Friday. The bus trip to Granada from Alicante was about 5 ½ hours. I traveled to Alicante the previous night (2 ½ hour bus ride) and stayed the night so that I could leave that morning with one of the girls. Anyway, when we finally got to Granada, I could already tell that the city was going to be so beautiful. The ride to Granada from Alicante had the most breathtaking views of the forest and the mountains. I also noticed when we arrived at the bus station that there was so much diversity in the city.



Granada



When we arrived, we hopped on a bus, got off near the center of the city, and attempted to find the hostel that we were staying at. In case anyone doesn’t know, a hostel is basically a place where travelers, usually of a younger age, stay at while they are travelling throughout different European cities. Instead of a hotel room where a person has his/her individual room and bathroom, Hostels have shared spaces. Most of them have rooms that can range from having one bed to up to 14 or 16 beds (bunk beds) in one room. The great thing about them is that they are cheap, especially considering that European hotels are extremely expensive, and they are an excellent way to meet other people who are travelling. I had my first hostel experience upon coming to Spain when I stayed in Madrid for a couple days. So this was my second experience.



Lunch



Anyway, we had a hard time finding a hostel, partly because no one that we questioned could tell us where the street of the hostel was, and also because the hostel was very much in the middle of nowhere. We finally found it thanks to the GPS on my Spanish phone, even though it only works half of the time. The receptionists were very friendly and the hostel was nice. Although it was raining very hard that day we could see that there were several hammocks outside to lie on, a kitchen area, and there was even a tree-house where people could chill, socialize, and eat. I’m not really into hostels, I love the fact that you can meet many people and that they are cheap but I just don’t like sharing living quarters with people I don’t know. It’s pretty gross to me.

After we checked in and dropped our stuff off at the hostel, we went out for lunch. We walked around a little and decided to eat at this authentic Arabic restaurant. I love the way that the restaurants were decorated: so beautiful and serene and also very private, dark and intimate. The two of us decided to eat at a table that was slightly hidden; we called it the couples table because it was very secluded, a perfect place for a man and women having an affair. The food was great, I had a delicious soup for my first plate, a baked chicken dish for my main plate, and chocolate cake for dessert. Afterwards, we walked around the city to explore. Both of us were looking to buy some boots for winter so we went inside several shoe stores. We took pictures of the city, went in several shops and I found an herb/spice store and bought some authentic spices to take home to my dad.



Paella



As we were heading back to the hostel, we stopped at this tea house. In Granada, there are so many tea houses where people stop to drink tea and chat and they have a wide selection of teas to choose from. The tea house that we were at also had hookah machines. While at the tea house, we noticed that we were the only two people there that weren’t a couple. Not only was everyone paired up with their significant other, but they were kissing each other fiercely for minutes at a time. In Spain, PDA is very popular. At the table across from us, there were a group of 6 lesbian girls, all kissing their partners as well. We both concluded that everyone must have ordered the aphrodisiac tea.

After the tea, which was a vital part of warming our bodies up (It was super cold), we went back to the hostel and prepared to have dinner there. The receptionist told us earlier that Paella was on the menu that night for dinner. Dinner was about 8 Euros and included sangria. As we waited, we went up to the tree house where we met several other people staying at the hostel. There were 2 girls from Australia, one girl from Japan, 1 Brazilian girl, An Irish girl, several girls from France, and a guy from Finland. We talked a while about each of our plans and experiences in Europe and then the Paella was ready. It was prepared by one of the workers at the hostel. The Paella was full of chorizo (Spanish sausage), chicken, and rabbit. I’ve realized that most Paella that you eat in Spain will contain rabbit. I mostly try to eat around the rabbit on my plate and enjoy the rice mixture and It was good. Everyone liked it. We all ate around a small table in the tree house and talked a lot while we ate. I really liked the environment. It reminded me of a family dinner.



Dinner with New Friends



After dinner, a few of us ordered drinks at the bar in the hostel. Mojitos are very popular here, so everyone besides me ordered one. There’s actually something about a Mojito that I really can’t stand. I don’t really like the sweet/minty/alcoholic mixture in a drink. I ordered a Margarita, which honestly I don’t know why I did because Margaritas are not very popular here and they don’t really taste the same at all. I watched the guy as he made my Margarita and he made it exactly the same way as he made the Mojito, except he didn’t add mint and he used tequila instead of rum.  To make a long story short, I could not drink the Margarita because it tasted just like a Mojito and made my stomach turn.  I now believe that it is my duty to show Spaniards how to make a real Margarita.

The next morning, we woke up early and headed to see the Alhambra. The Alhambra is an ancient palace and fortress that has existed since the 9^th century. It has so much history in that has been conquered, modified and restored by so many different religious and ethnic groups of people over time. Today, the Alhambra is a national monument and it is one of the main tourist attractions in Spain. The other American’s bus got in that morning right after 8 so we decided to meet her at the Alhambra. The Brazilian girl that we met the night before went with us.

I didn’t do much research on the Alhambra before I went to Granada, so I didn’t know what to expect. But I was absolutely amazed at what I saw. Keeping in mind that the Alhambra is a palace, it should be easy to imagine how big and beautiful it must be. When we first walked inside the Alhambra’s gates, we were surrounded by many gardens and so much greenery.

The Alhambra is divided into different palaces; each one belonged to a member of royalty. And each palace was just as gorgeous as the last. Writing about the Alhambra really doesn’t do it much justice; it’s too beautiful for words to describe. I would strongly suggest anyone coming to Spain to see it.

The Alhambra

After leaving the Alhambra, we were all pretty hungry so we decided to eat something. We ended up going to another Arabic restaurant. This restaurant was really big and had a larger selection of food; however, it was still very dark and private, as all of the Arabic places were. We each ordered from the menu del dia. The menu del dia or “menu of the day” is a lunch/dinner special that most restaurants in Spain have. It usually consists of a first plate (something like an appetizer), a second plate (which is usually the main plate) and a dessert, which varies depending on the day and the restaurant. You also usually get bread and a beverage: water, soda, wine or beer. The price of the menu varies, but typically it’s about 8-12 Euros. I ordered soup for my first dish and curry chicken and rice for my second. I also traded in my dessert for a much needed café con leche. It was very delicious.

We made it back to the hostel just in time for the tour of Granada that we had all signed up for. Several people had signed up for the tour, but because it was so cold outside, they had all backed out; so the four of us were the only participants on the tour. The tour guide took us around some of the city. We went to a few places where you could get a good view of everything. The Alhambra sits on a hill in the middle of the city so it’s very easy to see from most places, and despite the number of times that you see it, it appears more beautiful each time. The guide also took us up a very steep path towards the top of a hill to get a magnificent view of the city. The climb took about 10 minutes but it was difficult because not only were we walking uphill and I had to stop several times to catch my breath, but also because I had to try very hard not to slip considering the kind of shoes that I was wearing. Lastly, the tour guide took us to a section of the city that had really amazing graffiti. The graffiti wasn’t typical rebellious graffiti, it was more like conveyed messages through art. We talked a little about the graffiti and realized that the graffiti gave a voice to the people who aren’t really heard.



Flamenco Show

 After the tour, we got ready to go to a Flamenco show.  Flamenco actually originated in Andulacia, Spain, the providence of Granada, so I was really excited to see some authentic Flamenco music and dance. After searching for the place for a while, we finally arrived to the show and luckily, the hostel was able to reserve seats for us. Overall, the flamenco show was good, especially for it being my first show. It started off with an old man singing while another man was playing the guitar. The song was probably my favorite part of the show because the old man did a great job conveying passion and pain through song. Much later in the show, the flamenco dancer appeared. She was good, but I felt like the dance was missing something. At the show we had a couple glasses of tinto de verano and shared some tapas. I am very excited to attend some other flamenco shows in Spain.

The next morning was my time of departure. My bus to Jávea was scheduled to leave at 10:00 am. The other girls were able to leave Granada later that day because they live in Alicante, which is closer. My bus ride, however, was nine and a half hours, so I had to leave earlier. I was so upset that I would be missing the Arabic baths; but maybe next time. That morning before I left we went out for some churros and chocolate. After having it for the first time in Alicante, I was eager to have it again. This time I had a café con leche with it also, what a perfect combination!

I wish I can say that my bus ride back to Jávea was great, but, it was over 8 hours, how great can that be? I had a layover in Benidorm and when I got on the next bus there was a drunk man speaking very loudly on the bus. From what I could hear (and understand) he was quoting scriptures from some religious book. He was also drinking a box of wine and bothering people. Many people asked him to be quite but he never listened. Later, he started to smoke on the bus, which is prohibited (finally, something in Spain that is prohibited!). One of the bus workers eventually told him that he had to stop. I arrived in Jávea a little while later and tried my best to prepare for the workweek.