New Kids, Sunburn, and Discotecas

When I arrived home after traveling in Ireland, the rest of the students from the Arcadia program who are participating in the regular semester session had materialized in my domain. Apparently I have become protective and loyal of my new home. I surprised myself with how much I had missed Granada; the easy going attitude, the mountains outside my window, and tinto de verano. Ireland was enchanting but it just did not compare with Spain. I experienced a deep sense of relief when I returned followed by a frantic wave of panic. The awareness that I will not live here forever was an icy breath of unwelcome reality leaking into my core. I quickly attempted to plug up the cracks in my mentality with positive thoughts, and carried on with the resolution to live each day to its fullest.

How swiftly life changes. Along with a new roommate to make our happy apartment complete with six women, the shipment of fresh students delivered to me a wonderful running partner. She is a fellow nature enthusiast, cross-country runner, and at times our similarities almost freak me out. The first run together we completed sixteen miles, and the joy of finding someone to run with in addition to the accomplishment of finishing my longest run ever put me in good spirits. Our companionship and common goal to run the Madrid marathon this April gives us a powerful training advantage. We run up mountains, pet animals we probably shouldn’t (owner-less dogs, snakes, horses), climb trees, and collect small souvenirs (almonds, feathers, bones). She is a woman after my own soul; sometimes I believe we can communicate telepathically. This last Tuesday we completed a seventeen-mile run together, and afterwards iced our sore legs in the municipal river full of deflated soccer balls and glass bottles.

Last weekend I spent all my free time outside, and hope to repeat this as often as I am able. Saturday we didn’t exactly know where we were going, but kept choosing the uphill streets until we ended up in the gardens of the Alhambra above the city. Katelyn and explored the magical icicle caves, the tiny castle surrounded by a fairy-sized lake, and finally picnicked at the highest elevation possible. I caught a whiff of herbs on the wind and discovered that nearly all the landscaping bushes lining the walking paths were rosemary, so I pulled off a few sprigs to make roasted potatoes later. I always wondered where the local gypsies collected their stalks of rosemary to offer to unsuspecting passersby, those who are not familiar with the trick reach out for the herb and have their palms seized and divined.

 Before barbed-wire

 

 Demon spit

 

 

 

Icicles

 

 

D'awww 

 

 

Why, Charles! Your head...!

Lunch time

We pointed to a small restaurant perched on a hill across the valley and agreed we wanted to make it there for merienda (snack time, around 6-7pm). The trek there was breathtaking, with the sun shining brightly on the snowy peaks of the Sierra Nevadas and olive trees studding the dry red soil. We found our way to a cramped table facing the city below and drank café as we watched the sun sink lower towards the horizon. I could feel my face cooking in the reflection of the mirrored tabletop, but it was too beautiful to look away.

That very evening my roommate Ayelén invited us to join her on a hike the next morning, and we accepted. She had heard from a classmate about a hiking club that meets every Sunday and carpools to a different location each week, and so we gathered where we spotted outdoorsy-looking people standing on the street and the four of us were divvied up between stranger’s cars without knowing our destination.

 

Ayelén, Katelyn, Haley, Theresa

 

So happy!

 

We have the same camera

 

My natural element: snow

 

Kiwi

 

 

I love alien hoods.

 

National Pride

 

We made it!

 

Lunch

 

Wow.

 

Runner girls

 

 We were up there!

On the ride home my carpoolers had a competition to see who could identify the most songs, the radio station would switch between English and Spanish and we would take turns singing to prove we knew the lyrics- laughing like we were old friends even though we had only met that morning. The driver did not let me pay my share of the gas money. We said goodbye (a kiss on each cheek, always) and headed home. I had a smile and fourteen hours of full sun on my face.

Valentine’s Day came and passed without much consequence, I baked my roommates brownies using Cola Coa (similar to Nesquik) and frosted them with Nutella. They were eaten very quickly. One day later a surprise came for me in the evening, the blooms were thirsty from traveling but lovely:

I went to the discoteca for the first time last night, my roommate finished her exams and invited me out with her and friends. Up until this point I had been discouraged about partying, the extent of my night life had been a couple glasses of wine at a few bars and always back in bed before eleven. I think I avoided it partially because I am running so much but also because I am daunted by how late one must stay up in order to attend the discoteca. After spending four hours in an apartment watching the clock and nursing drinks, at 3:30am we finally walked to Granada 10. I was happy as a clam dancing to Shakira and other remixed songs until around 5:30am when the strobe lights flashed in the hollows of my eyes and the heavy bass resounded in an empty stomach. I told my group I was going to sleep, and was chided saying the night was still early. I don’t know how they do it! I gave it my best shot. I walked home alone and saw just one man, he was dressed in all black and had a ski-mask on but I kept a wide distance between us (sorry I don’t mean to scare you mum, but it’s the truth!) otherwise there was only sound of my heels clicking on the marble sidewalks echoing down the empty streets.

Ireland

 “The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off.”

-Henry David Thoreau

It never ceases to fascinate me how quickly plans for the future can change. Reflecting on what you thought was going to happen and what actually happened are usually very different, you can get upset about the deviation or let it give you the power to imagine that anything is possible. All notions of limitations can be eliminated if you approach life without expectations, and accept what happens with an open mind and heart. I am slowly expanding my imagination to envelope reality, and the result is pure freedom.

Some people call me crazy, some people call me brave. The truth: I am not afraid to be myself and to do what I want.

I bought the plane tickets an idle Tuesday afternoon without much fanfare while surfing the Internet for nothing in particular. It was this tiny step that kept the inkling of intention from forming a solidified plan. It only took four minutes and eighty euros to change the course of my future.

When the day came I took the last city bus to the station, waited two hours for the five-hour bus ride to Madrid, took the underground metro to the airport, then a shuttle to the correct terminal, waited another three hours, and got on the plane to Dublin.

The first impression I had upon arrival was how refreshing it was to be in an English-speaking environment again. I could understand all the notices, signs, advertisements, and directions given to me.

I went shopping around the area and found a farmer’s market selling fresh produce. All the vendors called me ‘love’ and gave me extra fruit because they ‘could tell they liked me’. I was shocked when I purchased a bunch of grapes and the merchant first checked his pockets, then realizing he didn’t have the correct change, plucked an apple off a tray to reveal a hidden stash of coins! I nearly laughed out loud imagining truth behind the stereotypical leprechaun and his pot of gold. I later learned that until the 1900’s in Ireland the most reliable way to store money was to bury it. When I stumbled upon the Occupy site I discovered that the people still do not trust the banks here.

 

Despite my fatigue from traveling I went out to a couple pubs with newfound friends from Liverpool in the evening. My first drink was a pint of Guinness, liquid Irish pride. I made it through the foam and an inch down the glass before I gave up. I confessed I would be on the floor before I finished the pint. They drank my beer and ordered me a Jameson instead. It went down smoothly and tasted like campfire, and they continued to put away more pints. I entertained them with my origami drink receipt cranes and they quoted scenes from British television shows. I saw them off at the bus stop the next morning.

I went in search of a Phoenix Park to view the legendary herd of deer inside its walls. The park is 350 years old and reminded me of the Shire from Lord of the Rings. It was freezing outside with a biting wind, I scoured the land but found no deer. Disappointed and cold I wandered around a free museum to warm up. Craving to see critters, I acted on a rumor I heard earlier of seals at the seaside town of Howth, so I hopped on the train to hoping to enjoy some wildlife. I walked along the pier with my eyes on the ocean, but to no avail. I ordered a greasy warm sack of fresh fish ‘n chips to console my frozen fingers and wounded expectations. The vinegary and salty goodness heightened my spirits quite a bit.

 

 Phoenix park

  

 

 

 On the way to Howth

 

Blue boat

 Bird Refuge

 

 

Red boat

 Pier

 

Black bird

I woke up at six in the morning in to catch the tour bus to The Cliffs of Moher. Ever since I saw them on the Travel Channel last summer I was enchanted by them, and the four-hour bus ride to the coast was worth it. On the way we stopped at the ancestral home of President Barack Obama.

Outside the bus window

 Picnic on a cliff

 Suicide prevention

 

 Happy Valentine's Day

 Shell

 Lichen

 Rainy café

 Moonscape

 Grazing by the sea

I bought two jars of peanut butter on the way home: chunky and smooth. I would argue the entire trip to Ireland was worth it just for the PB. When going through customs at the airport I was stopped, and terrified she was going to toss my beloved paste I begged her to let me try and eat it before the flight. She told me to calm down, and let me pass. Thank you, airport security woman.

 

 

Headless bishop & friends

 Famine memorial

 

 

Random castles everywhere, but all privately owned.

 

 Love grows on trees

 

 Feeding the birds

 (If you have additional attention span, read below)

Lessons Learned

• On traveling: memories will always be more important than money. The purpose of traveling is not to take as many pictures of landmarks and monuments as possible or to visit all the tourist destinations, but to become immersed in a culture different than your own. Without people, a place is only physical area. It is the human stories that create an understanding of the land and its history. Traveling alone is difficult because sharing these experiences increases awareness as opposed to a constant inner monologue that does not escape the mind or exchange ideas. Traveling with others might slow one down, but company also makes the adventure more colorful.

• On cameras: these are tools to share experiences and enhance a perspective, but never should be used as a lens through which you view the world or to capture every futile moment of existence.

• On tours: good sources of information but at times frightfully boring and impersonal.

• On museums: looking at material possessions is only interesting when there is a human story behind it. Otherwise it’s just old shit. I would find a broken toy with a history behind it immensely more interesting than an owner-less silver spoon valued for its rarity. I get depressed when I imagine people centuries from now putting up a soda can on a pedestal and praising it like an idol because it’s made out of a precious metal.