This past week was Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Spain and therefore I had the week off. Instead of staying in Spain to witness the traditional processions with giant floats of virgins and saints, people dressed in colorful outfits that resemble the KKK, weeping women, and self-flagellation (not to mention insane amounts of tourists), I fled to Germany and Holland.

My plans were as follows:
Granada to Malaga 4/12 @ 7:45AM
Malaga to Oslo 4/12 @ 11:00AM
Oslo to Berlin 4/12 @ 3:30PM
Berlin to Amsterdam 4/16 @ 7:00AM
Amsterdam to Malaga 4/20 @ 5:20PM
Malaga to Granada 4/20 @ 9:30PM

Fortunately, almost all of the above went according to plan, although there were quite a few bumps in the road. 

A common form of transportation in Spain, and other parts of Europe, is called Blablacar. It's a ride board where people post trips from A to B and offer to take passengers for cheaper than a bus or train (usually). I'd say it's like public transportation with private vehicles. For some, it sounds scary and unsafe, but rest assured, I've used it dozens of times without problems. 

So to get from Granada to Malaga, I arranged a Blablacar leaving at 7:45AM the first day of my vacation. I had been in contact with the driver for weeks, confirming and reconfirming our trip so that I wouldn't miss my flight. He assured me several times that I would make it. Even so, while I was still waiting for him at 8AM, I thought that he had ditched me and I would definitely miss my flight. He arrived a few minutes late and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. I made it to the airport in Malaga just past 9, with time to spare before my 11AM flight. 

For some nonsensical reason, my layover was in Oslo, Norway. If you know anything about European geography, you'll know that it is a bit out of the way to go from Spain to Norway with a final destination of Germany. Half way through the flight, I realized I didn't know our ETA. I approached a flight attendant who said we would be landing at 3:15PM. I panicked a bit because my next flight was at 3:30PM so the flight attendant moved me to the front row and told me to run when I got off the plane. And so I did. I made it onto my flight to Berlin without problem. When I arrived and got through baggage claim, my friend was already waiting for me outside. I spent a beautiful few days with two German friends that I had met in Guatemala this past summer. They took me around their city, gave me delicious food and a comfortable bed in which to sleep. I couldn't have been more grateful for their hospitality. 

They were so hospitable in fact, that they offered to drive me to the airport on the 16th at 5AM. I told them I would happily take the train but they insisted it was no problem. I looked at my boarding pass, saw that my flight left at 7AM, calculated that they should be boarding at 6:30AM and so if I arrived at 5:45AM, I would have plenty of time. Boy, was I wrong. 

We stopped for coffee and breakfast, then were on our way out of the city and to the airport. The moon was full and illuminating the early morning sky. Once we got out of the city, we drove through the countryside with the moon setting on our right and the sun rising on our left and fog covering the fields like a blanket. It was stunningly beautiful, but it was then that we started to get lost. We missed the first exit for the airport, so we took the next exit which took us to the new airport that hasn't even opened yet. At this point, it was 6:15AM. So we got back on the highway, going in the wrong direction, got off the highway to turn around but ended up on a different highway... still going the wrong direction. My friends, who are sisters, spoke to each other in German and would occasionally turn around with forced smiles and say "You'll make it on time. It's okay." I said "Okay, but they're boarding my flight now" as it was already 6:30AM. So I took out my boarding pass to make sure I had my facts straight. No they weren't boarding my flight. They had already finished and the boarding pass read "GATE CLOSES 6:30AM". At this point I knew it was too late, but when we arrived at the airport at 6:45AM, my friends insisted that I try anyway. One friend spoke to the woman at security in German and then shouted "RUN!" and so I did. I ran through security, up the stairs, through the duty free store, stopped at the screen and saw they were no longer posting my gate, but I continued to run through the concourse, down the stairs and passed gates with black screens. I had missed my first flight. 

As I walked back out of the terminal, with my head down in shame, a young Hispanic girl followed behind me hysterically crying. The security guard let us out and we went to buy new tickets. I bought a new ticket for that day at 7:25 PM and fortunately my friends waited for me to make sure I got on the plane (which I obviously did not). The sobbing girl behind me had arrived at the airport with her boyfriend, also late for their flight. They ran through the concourse and somehow lost each other. When she got on the airplane, she saw he wasn´t there and got off the plane to look for him. She didn´t find him and when she went back to the plane, the gate was closed. What´s worse is that the boyfriend had all of her money, credit cards and even her passport. She had no way to call him and the airport security said it was strictly forbidden to page him on the intercom system. I gave her a few euros to use a pay-phone and told her to breathe deeply. She was unconsolable and so worried because she didn´t speak English or German. I don't know how that story ended but she wasn't at the airport when I returned 12 hours later. 

I was incredibly early for my flight to Amsterdam that night and waited patiently for them to post my gate number. When they finally posted the gate, it was already time to board. At the gate, everyone just sat down and waited for the plane to arrive. A man dressed in all white with a beard like fire came and sat next to me. He hummed and I tapped my foot. Eventually, he took out some green leaves and a white substance in what looked like a film canister. He would lick the white stuff off his finger and then make noises like he had a hairball. So I put in my headphones to block out the guttural sounds. It was already 7:25PM, the time we were supposed to take off, and there was no plane at the gate. I saw the man talking to me out of the corner of my eye so I took out my headphones and he said "Thirty minutes late at least" and we began to talk. The usual "Where are you from? Where are you going? What are you doing?". The man was from Bangladesh and was very well-travelled "I go Rome, Paris, Geneva, London, Newark, Berlin, Amsterdam, Moscow, Newark. Newark very nice." He explained that he travelled for business as he grabbed his white scarf and said "Textiles. This my textile." He asked if I was traveling alone like him and of course, I answered honestly. Then he asked if we were friends and feeling uncomfortable, I laughed and said "Yes!" Then it got really weird. He invited me to a hotel all expenses paid and I laughed awkwardly and said no thank you. I told him I was going to meet my friends at the train station and he said he would accompany me to the train station. Again, "No, thank you. That's not necessary." Next, he offered to fly me out to Bangladesh, put me up in a hotel, take me to Malaysia and Thailand. Getting more and more uncomfortable, I laughed and said "No really, that's okay." When it came time to board, we parted ways.

I had agreed to meet three Dutch friends at the train station at 9:15PM. Well, we didn't land until 9:30 and so when I finally got off the plane, I ran passed the man from Bangladesh and hopped on the first train to the city center. I was so stressed all day from the complications of travels, that when I got off the train and saw my friends waiting for me on the platform, I couldn't have been happier. I let go of my suitcase and threw myself at my friends, hugging them all multiple times. They were friends I made while hiking for five days through the jungle of Colombia and it had been almost 2 years since we'd seen each other. So we went for some drinks and caught up. While at the restaurant, an American friend who happened to be in Amsterdam with her father, stopped by to say hello. 

Then it was time to find my hostel. I would have just walked but my two guy friends insisted they would take me and my bag. Well, one friend put my suitcase in between his legs on a scooter and drove my bag to the hostel. The other friend insisted I hop on the back of his bicycle and he pedaled through the city, pointing out landmarks. Dutch people hop on the back of bikes like it's no big deal but I am so clumsy, it was a disaster. I held on for dear life and both my arms and legs were sore for the rest of the trip. And it was only 15 minutes! Mildly embarrassing, but oh well!

I spent four days in Amsterdam and on Easter Sunday had to head back to Spain. I had a flight at 5:20PM and had arranged a Blablacar from Malaga to Granada an hour after my arrival. The driver had confirmed the day before that he could still take me, but at 1PM on Sunday, he wrote and said that he changed his flight and could no longer take me to Granada. As my battery was dying and my time running out, I frantically sent messages to everyone leaving Malaga for Granada between 9 and 11PM. Most people said their car was already full. One girl said the car wasn't full yet, but she couldn't pick me up from the airport. So I figured I'd just get a bus, which was only a few more euros and an extra 30 minutes of travel. 

When I got on the plane, I had this vision of me standing up and saying in a loud voice "Is anyone on this plane from Granada? Please take me with you!" I knew that wasn't really the best idea, so I jokingly asked the guy next to me "Any chance you're from Granada?" He said no and I explained my situation. He couldn't take me to Granada but when we got to Malaga, he decided to help me find my way. We had spent the whole flight talking, laughing and drawing silly pictures in my journal. 

When I landed, I had a message from the girl from Blablacar asking is she should wait for me at the bus station. I responded "Yes! Please please please!" but then received no confirmation. So I called her and the call wouldn't go through. And then... my phone died. So I used this guy's phone to write to her and she responded shortly after saying because I didn't answer her soon enough, she had left without me. Well, I would just take the bus after all. 

So this guy went with me to the bus station. While on the tram, he added me on Facebook and we discovered we had a mutual friend. A Dutch guy I studied with in Ecuador in 2012, had also studied with my new friend in Malta in 2008. What an insanely small world! I thanked him for his kindness and we said goodbye.

I bought a bus ticket and some snacks and waited for the bus. While I was standing outside, the guy I had met on the plane came running up to me, sweat dripping down his face. "The girl is out front! She is waiting for you!" WHAT?! I thought she had left without me... Apparently, there was a misunderstanding and she thought I was someone else when I wrote to her from the guy's phone. 

While I tried to return my bus ticket (I only had 5 minutes to do so and there was a line), my friend went outside to ask the girl to please wait a few more minutes. I successfully returned my ticket, losing 20%, and got into the car and we were off! Eventually, I made it home without any more problems. It was such an insane adventure. 

Overall, it was an amazing week. I visited Berlin, Amsterdam and Rotterdam. I saw 7 friends that I had met in Ecuador, Colombia, Guatemala or Nicaragua and 2 American friends that I had met in North Carolina. In Berlin, I took an underground tour of a bunker and air surveillance tower from WWII. In Amsterdam, I revisited the tulip fields and Van Gogh Museum which I had loved so much when I visited with my mother 10 years earlier. It was all fantastic.

I only have a few months left here in Spain. Let's see how many more adventures I can manage to fit in! 

Last weekend, I traveled to Valencia, Spain's third largest city, to witness their famous festival, Las Fallas. As you may remember, I went to Valencia in January and didn't have the best time. It was rainy and I felt lonely so I ended up leaving a day early. I decided I would give Valencia a second try when one of my adult students invited me to travel with him and six of his friends. 
Before I get into my personal experience at Las Fallas, I should probably give you some background. The origin dates back to the Middle Ages when carpenters would collect all the unused material of the year and burn it to celebrate the Spring Equinox. This tradition has evolved over the centuries and now each neighborhood of Valencia builds its own massive structure (up to 30 meters tall), which is eventually burnt to the ground. These structures are known as "fallas". They are usually very intricate and contain a lot of social criticism. Each neighborhood spends the entire year throwing dinner parties to raise money to build their monument. It is speculated that the construction of one falla costs between 70,000-250,000€. 

So they fundraise all year long and at the beginning of March, construction of the fallas begins. It used to be that each person lent a helping hand but the festival has become so big that there are now companies that do nothing but build fallas. It reminds me of Mardi Gras floats in New Orleans, but even bigger. When the construction begins, so does the party. Starting March 1st, each day begins at 8AM with a marching band and firecrackers circulating the city. Then every afternoon, in the square of town hall, and also in some neighborhoods, they have what is called a mascletà. There is a woman who signals the start of the event by saying in Valenciano (similar to the language of Catalan) "Mr. Pyrotechnic, you may commence the Mascletà!" And so for one minute, fireworks are set off without pause. They aren't the kind of fireworks that make pretty colors in the sky, but rather the kind that just go "BOOM BOOM BOOM!" Each day from March 1st onward, the length of the mascletà increases little by little until on the last day of Las Fallas, March 19th, the "BOOM BOOM BOOM!" lasts for up to 6 minutes. There is a huge turnout and the streets are packed. On all the nearby balconies, people gather to watch (really, listen) to the event and the windows of the buildings visibly shake with the powerful explosions. It sounds a little frightening, the crowds and loud noises, but it is truly exciting. Your heart starts to beat to the rhythm of the explosion and you feel the ground shake below your feet. 

I found a YouTube video of the Mascletà. You only need to watch for a minute or so to get an idea of the event: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8unCIC_22Vo

Then every night from the 16th-19th at 1AM, there is what they call a "castillo" which is a firework show that also gets increasingly longer with each day. The show is over the old riverbed, which is now dried up and used for leisure and exercise. I saw the fireworks on the 16th and they were spectacular! To imagine that it only gets better each day, makes the 4th of July seem like a total joke. Hands down, it was the best firework show I've ever seen. 

Finally, on the 19th is the grand event La Cremà, which means The Burning. All of the fallas (over 100 large monuments and several hundred small ones) are connected to a bunch of fireworks which eventually send the monuments up in flames. Hundreds of firemen are on duty that night to insure that the fire doesn't spread. Some of the monuments can take up to an hour to burn to the ground. You may ask yourself, why would they spend all year planning, preparing and constructing a monument that will burn in only one hour? Well, a small monument in the city center asked the same question, "Why do we burn the fallas?" People wrote their ideas on the wall and although some were silly, others were poetic and truly represented the tradition that Valencianos hold so dear. Some examples:
"To start new and forget the old"
"Because it's cool and we can eat paella"
"Because only from fire can dreams be born, because without passion there are no eternal moments"
"So we can burn those that burn us" (as most fallas have a social/political criticism, it is a way to get back at the government)
"To welcome spring"

Here is another YouTube video which shows the burning of the town hall's falla: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLEjQzt3M_A The video is a little long so I suggest you jump ahead to see the different stages of the monument burning. I'll also include a picture from Google of the statue they burnt. 

At first I was skeptical, but after reading all the reasons and seeing all the tradition, I am truly in love with the festival.
I spent the weekend in awe, dancing, enjoying the sun and the company of new friends. It made me sad to leave on Sunday because I would have liked to see the fallas burn. I found a broadcast online and was able to see some clips that were amazing. The whole weekend felt like the perfect picture of Spain: parties in discotecas or in the streets, stunning architecture, natural beauty, art, tradition, passion, energy, good food & drink and above all, great company. 

If you know me or my father, you've probably heard the candy cane tale by now (at least once). My dad continues to laugh in amazement whenever we bring up the topic. Now, I have a story that I believe can top the candy cane chronicle. Brace yourself... and start picturing spinning tea cups at Disney World. 
On Thursday night, after work, I went out with my co-workers for the first time. I see them twice a week at my academy job and we always exchange pleasantries. Once we left the school, these people went from two-dimensional to 3D. It was really nice to get to know them outside of a work setting. 
At one point in the evening, a man walked into the bar with his dog on a leash. I looked down and saw a pup with the same stature as Stewie but not as chubby. The next time I looked over, the dog wasn't down on the ground, but rather sitting at the bar beside his owner. I can't say I had ever seen a dog on a barstool before and I was quite amused. I went over to pet the dog and of course, the owner wanted to chat. When I walked over he was drinking a full glass of whiskey on ice and completing a sudoku puzzle. He told me that the dog went everywhere with him and when they went to a bar the man would get a drink and the dog would eat the tapa (in this case, a pork kebab). I often view older Spanish people as cartoon characters because they are so animated and quirky. This man and his dog would make the perfect comic strip. 
We talked for a while about the Spanish language and culture. The man insisted that new words that have been adopted from the English language should just be translated to Spanish. It's too hard for him to understand these newfangled English words. Then he remarked that Americans are all learning Spanish and Spanish people are all learning English. "Back in my day, it was just French." I asked him if he had been to France and we talked about Paris which led him to a rant about other big cities. "New York is the belly button of the world." I laughed and he asked me, "Do you know Park Blablabla?" I say "Blablabla" because for several minutes I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. "You're telling me you're an American and you don't know Park Di-knee?" The accent in Granada can be incredibly difficult to understand. Sounds and sometimes entire syllables are totally lost. What the man was trying to say was Disney but the pronunciation was totally butchered. 
Eventually the dog had gotten cozy on his barstool and scratching his chest no longer made his foot thump. The bar was closing and the man was rambling. A French coworker came over to try and pull me away. "You're French?" said the old man. And without asking where exactly she was from he said "I've been to your town before!" He continued to speak about the entire country of France as if it were a small village. After smiling and nodding for quite a while, I thanked him for his company and he shook my hand so hard I could have sworn he broke a bone. 
Anyway, that's not the story. The real story happened in between interactions with this old man and his dog. When I returned to the table after petting the dog the first time, I was introduced to the friends of a coworker who had joined us for drinks. The man that had joined the group looked at me and said "So you're from Chicago?" His accent didn't sound particularly Midwestern so I didn't peg him as a Chicago boy. I said "Yeah. Why? Are you?" It wouldn't have been that strange to meet a person from Chicago in a foreign country but the conversation progressed. He said that he had lived in Chicago for a couple of years. 
"Oh yeah, well did you live in the city or the suburbs?"
"Nah, I lived out in a suburb."
"Where?"
"I lived in Glenview."
"Nooooo! I'm from Glenview!"
"So you went to Glenbrook South, right?"
We could have left it at this detail and I still would have been tickled by the coincidence. Fine, we lived in the same town. That's great. But of course, I continued to ask questions. 
"Yes! What part of town did you live in?"
"I lived off of Pfingsten." He paused. "The street's called Maple Leaf."
At this point, I started rattling off our old address. All the way to the zipcode. I hugged him again and again. He clearly wasn't as amazed as I was. 
I did not use my indoor voice from this point on. "I lived in the first cul de sac to the right!"
He replied, "I lived in the first cul de sac to the left."
For a good minute, I entertained the idea that he was a mind reader and just messing with me. I couldn't believe how the details of our childhoods aligned. 
"So yeah, I went to Willowbrook for a year, then Maple, and then two years at GBS." And then he began naming teachers.
I chimed in, "Mr. Panitch?!"
He said, "Yeah, I loved Mr. Panitch! The only thing I remember from his class was his giant cup from White Hen and..." While he paused I thought to myself 'Everything is relative.' "...that everything is relative."
I hugged him again. After that we didn't talk about it again; however, I couldn't get over it. When he was a freshman at GBS, I was a Titan Tot in preschool... in the same building. For four years we lived on the same street and now here we are, half way across the world living in the same city.  

My hiatus from the blog had to come to an end so I could share this story. Obviously, lots of other things have happened in the past few weeks. I went and visited two different friends: one in a city called Almería and another friend that I made at Earth Lodge in the city of Alicante. Also, I've had two friends come and visit me in this time. This past Wednesday I went skiing with my favorite group of students from the high school and had a fantastic time. This time next week my parents will be here and I couldn't be more excited!

Tomorrow I go back to school after having a much needed break. A lot happened over the course of these two weeks but I'll just give you the short version. 

My last day of school was Friday the 20th. After the long journey of the candy canes, they finally made their way into the hands of my students. The kids went crazy for candy canes, although some were disappointed they were mint and not strawberry flavored. The last day of school before break, no matter where in the world you are, is kind of a pointless day. Attendance is low, exams are finished and students and teachers alike have tuned out. Most teachers had nothing planned so I got to show the Will Ferrell film 'Elf' while wearing a Santa hat and handing out candy. 

That Saturday I made my way to Malaga because my flight was leaving from there Sunday morning. I checked into a very nice hostel and spent the day sight seeing. This was my third time in Malaga but I had never stayed more than a few hours. I checked out an old castle and the port and finished up my Christmas shopping. 

From Malaga I took a direct flight to London. Everything went smoothly and Leah, Alan & Theo met me at the train station. I spent a couple days at their house relaxing, catching up with family, and eating well. It was so great to see everyone and be with family after 3 months away from home. On Christmas, a relative of my cousins, a 4 year old called Eloise, arrived at the house in a princess dress. I spent the night playing princesses with her and running back and forth from the dinner table to "our palace" aka the kitchen. At one point, I was pushing in chairs at the table and I heard a little voice say "Excuse me!" I looked down and there was Eloise under the table. She looked at me and said in a whisper "Please don't tell anyone!" She then proceeded to bang on the table and make animal noises. Someone heard her and looked around and said "Oh, it's just Ellie!" 

On the 27th, Michael, Theo & I went to Barcelona. We arrived at night, dropped our bags at our apartment and immediately went out exploring. Wandering the streets aimlessly pretty much sums up our week in Barcelona. Most nights we went out with no destination in mind. During the day, we ate well and checked out several tourist attractions. It's hard to recount all that happened in that week but let it be known that we had a fantastic time with lots of laughs (and tapas). 
On New Years Eve we had a fantastic dinner: garlic shrimp, octopus, steak, fish stew, passion fruit cheese cake and red wine. After dinner we headed to Plaza Catalunya, the center of the city, where we bought a bottle of champagne and waited for the bells to toll. In Spain there is a tradition of eating a grape with each ringing of the bell. Each grape represents one month of the year and for each grape you successfully eat you will have one month of good luck. I was dead set on trying this tradition although Mike dismissed it. At midnight all three of us began to stuff our faces with grapes. Mike and Theo succeeded and I began to choke. I was only able to stomach 6 grapes before I gave up completely. Looks like I'll only have good luck half the year...
Leaving Barcelona was incredibly sad. It meant not seeing my family for a while, returning to work very soon and being on my own for a bit.

We all left Barcelona on the 2nd and I headed to Valencia. I thought I would stay two nights but upon arrival, I felt certain I wanted to go back to Granada ASAP. That night I had dinner with a friend who is from Valencia but had studied at UNCW. It was nice to chat with someone who knows and understands the people and places that I miss. The next day I walked all around Valencia's city center and visited the market and a few churches. Later in the day I took a bus to the City of Science and Arts. My favorite part of the city was a park that I discovered while looking at Google Maps aerial view. The park is a giant structure of Gulliver and kids climb all over him. It looked like so much fun; however, I think I'm too old to be climbing up rope ladders and going down slides. Overall, I wasn't very impressed with Valencia, Spain's 3rd biggest city after Madrid & Barcelona. I think Barcelona is a hard act to follow...

Getting back to Granada felt better than expected. My roommate and a few friends welcomed me at the house and we ordered some pizzas. The next day I just rested and yesterday my best friend Martina returned as well. Yesterday and today are holidays in Spain, celebrating the Three Magic Kings. Santa Claus isn't really a big deal here because every year on the night of January 5th, the Three Magic Kings bring presents to the boys and girls of Spain. Martina and I went to the parade through the center of town and I jumped up and down like a little kid (although I didn't cry when I couldn't catch any candies). 
After the parade we went for a drink and at the restaurant they gave us a piece of cake called Roscon de Reyes. It reminds me of the cake eaten at Mardi Gras because in it is hidden a small king and a bean. The person who finds the king is the winner and the one who finds the bean must pay for the cake. Neither Martina nor I had the king or bean in our pieces, but the cake was delicious. 

Tomorrow I go back to school and I imagine it will be a challenge for both teachers and students to get back in the swing of things. 
Happy New Year, everyone! 

Love,
E

This blog is long overdue. The first weekend of December was a holiday in Spain. Well, there were actually two holidays: one celebrating the Spanish constitution and the other was celebrating the Virgin Mary. So everyone had off Friday and Monday, making for a nice, long weekend. 

It’s been quite a while since I felt inspired to write a blog. To be quite honest, I am not feeling all that inspired now but I hate knowing that there is a huge gap in my timeline (also, there is a huge gap in my work day so I have to fill that, too). Therefore I will try to sum up the past month as concisely as possible.
Halloween consisted of very little for me. I wore a sweatshirt covered in candy corns, pumpkins and ghosts and spoke to a few classes about the holiday. As for celebrating, I skipped out: no costume, no candy. 

The first weekend of November I went with my friends Martina and Angela to a nearby city called Córdoba. We went by bus, stayed in a lovely hostel in the center, and ate way too much. Our stay was short but in that time we saw (and ate) a lot! Córdoba is known for its ‘mezquita’, mosque in Spanish, which long ago was turned into a church. We also went to some beautiful gardens and took lots of fun photos. The nightlife in Córdoba wasn’t very promising and so we weren’t the least bit sad to return to our lively Granada.

The best story from Córdoba is that when we returned from a night out and entered the building, an old man was standing in the doorway. He was mumbling to himself and he really creeped me out. So I entered first, cracking the door only slightly so my friends could slip in and we could shut this man out. Well, someone (I wont name names) let the man in the door and panic ensued. I assumed the worst and started to hustle up the stairs. Angela shouted “Ellie, don’t run!” and when the man also sped upstairs, Angela changed her mind, “RUN!” We fumbled for the key and I felt my heart nearly explode. Once we opened the door to our hostel, we looked down the stairs to realize that the creepy man was a resident in the building. He was just drunk and had misplaced his key to the front door. We let out a sigh of relief and laughed it off quickly. 

A few days later, I discovered the most beautiful place in Granada: Generalife. It is a recreational park where many people go to hike or mountain bike. The further up you hike, the less of the city you hear and the more you see. It is breathtaking and very peaceful. I have several go-to spots to hang my hammock now. When the city overwhelms me (which is very often), I try to go to Generalife or at least dream of my days off when I can make it up there. 

When I was in Ecuador, I met a fellow exchange student from Louisiana called Lorraine.  If you remember much earlier blog posts, circa summer 2012, you will remember that she and I traveled through Colombia together. Over a year later, it turns out that Lorraine was also in Spain. She had been traveling through Europe and decided to make a slight detour to spend a few days with me. Lorraine grew to love Granada and ended up staying three weeks.

In those three weeks we had lots of adventures, but the best one came first. On her first weekend in Andalucía, we went to a national park called Cabo de Gata. In order to get there, we got a ride to Almería where we met up with my friend Juan Jo, who was an exchange student at UNCW last fall and we studied Portuguese together. It was great to see him and catch up. The next day he drove Lorraine and I to the park and we spent the afternoon with him exploring. Cabo de Gata has it all: mountains, sea and dessert. It is a spectacular place with few residents and abundant breath-taking views. After lunch, Juan Jo helped us find an apartment, making sure we didn’t get scammed for being female foreigners. We landed the most amazing apartment with a view of the sea and enough room for six guests… all to ourselves! 

The highlights of the trip included waking up early for the sunrise, going to a local bar and dancing with the musician who was performing, and above all, our 4-hour kayak trip. We rented a double kayak and spent the afternoon paddling through the Mediterranean. The water was so many hues of greens and blues and, for the most part, calm. We encountered no other people until we were almost back to shore. At one point we pulled our kayak into a little cave and had our own private beach. Once we were back in town, we realized the sea had swallowed one of our life jackets. The guys at the dive shop weren’t too pleased but they charged us less than normal because the life jacket was old.

After such a magical weekend, it was a difficult transition back to work. 

The next weekend Lorraine and I stuck around town. We took advantage of Granada’s free tapas and spent time in Generalife simply relaxing.

One Monday, Lorraine and I went to tour the Alhambra. I had been before in high school but it was amazing to realize how much I had forgotten. We spent hours exploring the palace and its gardens. 

At the end, we were walking through a palace and we came across a security guard explaining a room to two other American girls. A second guard came along and said, “Don’t just tell them… Show them!” The first guard said, “I want nothing to do with this!” and immediately ran away. The four of us Americans looked at each other confused and shrugged. The second guard took down the rope blocking off the room and whispered, “Run in, run out.” So I did exactly that. I ran on tiptoes and looked around as fast as I could. We all had a good laugh and the guard just grinned. 

That weekend, we took a day trip to Málaga and visited the Picasso Museum. It was a nice museum, but to be honest, I enjoyed the exhibit of Swedish artist Hilma af Klint more than the Picasso exhibit. Unfortunately, we could not take any pictures in the museum. So I've snagged a picture from Google to give you an idea of her work.

Lorraine left the day before Thanksgiving and I immediately longed for my American companion. I worked all Thanksgiving Day and night so I had to postpone any celebration until the weekend. I spent the whole week preparing: looking up recipes, hunting down strange ingredients (pumpkin in a can & corn starch), and chopping up veggies. After being in the kitchen Friday night and all day Saturday, I finally made my first Thanksgiving. I invited my roommates, my roommate’s girlfriend, my landlord, and my friend Martina, who I owe a HUGE thanks for helping me make the meal. We ate turkey, mashed potatoes with bacon, green bean casserole, glazed carrots, stuffing, pumpkin cake, pumpkin pie, and trifle. The pumpkin desserts were an experiment and nearly a failure. The texture was not exactly as it should be but they came out edible and admittedly pretty delicious. I felt relieved after serving Thanksgiving dinner and spent the rest of the weekend relaxing and eating leftovers. 

I have only three days of school this week and then a long weekend. My friends and I have a getaway planned but I’ll save the details of that until after the fact. Until then, have a nice week! 

If I had to use one word to describe this past week if would have to be surreal. The events of this week, at times, made me feel as if I was in the Twilight Zone.  

I started my school week on Tuesday and on my way to school, a fellow teacher told me we would be without electricity. “And running water?” I asked. “Of course!” she reassured me. Fifteen minutes into the start of the school day, the power went out. After first period when I went to the bathroom (in the dark), I discovered there wasn’t any running water. The lack of these two commodities made for an interesting day.

On Wednesday, I went to the Parque de las Ciencias which is similar to the Museum of Science and Industry or Kohl’s Children’s Musuem in Chicago. My whole life I have despised science. It was my hardest class in school and I could hardly ever wrap my mind around the concepts. I went to the Parque de las Ciencias to meet a woman who works there and wants English classes. She gave me an abbreviated tour and I spent most of the time with my jaw on the floor. For the first time in my life, I was fascinated by science. I saw real organs from humans and other species and the most interesting was a whale's heart. Years ago, I would have cringed and run away, but now I just stand marvel. They also had an exhibit on puppets, which doesn't seem very scientific, but it was fascinating. I'll be giving the woman classes over the next few months in exchange for a 6 month pass to the museum. There's still so much left to explore: the butterfly garden, the friendly robot, the observatory, the look-out tower, plus all the permanent and seasonal exhibits. I'm so excited about this that I can hardly believe that I am the same person I was years ago. 

Thursday was a particularly difficult day at school. The whole education system in Spain, from the primary schools to the universities, went on strike. There is a new law that will require many cuts within the schools and clearly the teachers and students are not pleased. Students, as much as teachers, have the right to go on strike. On Thursday, a few teachers from my school were absent but there were even more students ‘on strike’. I imagine that most of them don’t know what they’re protesting and they just saw it as a day off. Well, I couldn’t teach my first class because there were just four students. The third class was also called off because it had only one student present. For the final class of the day, I was told to go ahead and teach the lesson although only five students were in attendance. Technically I am not supposed to be left alone with the students for liability reasons, but due to the lack of faculty, I was on my own, with five 13 year olds, teaching mathematics. It wasn’t easy but the students and I laughed as we both waited for the final bell to ring. In the end, I spent 5 hours at the school so I could teach 30 minutes of math. 

That night, Martina and I went for a drink near my house. We stood outside the bar just people watching and a couple stood on the other side of the door with their dog. One man, with a handlebar mustache and mutton chops, walked by, guitar in hand and began to serenade the dog. He got closer and closer, then got down at the dog's eye level and sang it a little song. We couldn't control our laughter.

Friday at school was nothing special. I filled in for an absent math teacher and accidentally assigned the wrong work. Nobody corrected me and all the students diligently copied down the assignment. Five minutes later, I looked at my schedule and I realized I had given them the other class's work, more advanced work, and we all laughed. I told them we'd start over entirely so I said "Hello! Good morning! How are you?" and proceeded with the correct lesson plan. 

Friday night we had a get-together at my house. My roommate Rafa had cleaned the cave and turned it into a nice sitting room. All the roommates invited a friend or two and we had snacks and drinks in the cave. Our landlord even joined the party at 1AM when he arrived home from Morocco. Rafa's girlfriend is a flamenco dancer and so is her brother. The two of them danced several numbers in the middle of our living room and I could not believe that there was a free flamenco show in my own house. It felt so Spanish! I thought about taking a picture/video but I couldn't be bothered to ruin the moment. 

Saturday evening I went out for tapas with a couple of friends. As the rest of the group planned to head out to the discotecas and bars, Martina and I planned our escape. We said our goodbyes and started heading down a busy street (even at 2AM) to return to our respective homes. Once again, we were approached by a random man. This guy was younger, drunker and accompanied by his girlfriend (I guess). He stopped us to ask if we liked his dancing and proceeded to act like drunk Elvis. We probably spoke with the couple for 15 minutes and at the end the girlfriend tried to convince us to come with them. Martina and I politely declined and scurried away. Either Granada is full of strange people or I just attract the few that reside here. 
On Sunday I was having a late lunch with friends at a restaurant. All of a sudden, a table of ten or so women next to us began to sing in harmony. I made my friends at the table stop talking so I could listen to them sing a song. In the end, it wasn't just A song... it was MULTIPLE songs. Then the old broads finished up their glasses of wine and beer and all took a shot of some dark looking liquor... at 3PM... on a Sunday. "Only in Spain..."
Today, my roommate Rafa and I took a day trip to the city of Malaga. We couldn't find parking and he had to pick someone up from the airport at a certain hour, so our time in the city was very limited. To be honest, we were probably there less than an hour. However, in that hour Rafa managed to find a mannequin in a dumpster. We already have mannequin legs in our window at home, dressed in blue jeans and tennis shoes, placed there to spook the tourists who have a tendency to peer into our home. Anyway, Rafa saw this mannequin and had to have it. So I followed behind him as he carried 'her' through the city and just watched the astonished looks on peoples' faces as they passed. 
After the airport pick-up, we made our way to the beach. We had a delicious paella for lunch and then a brief walk because once again we were pressed for time. I even swam in the sea despite its frigid cold temperature. I made the 6 o'clock bus home to Granada and now I'm preparing for tomorrow's classes. 
As it is the week of Halloween, I intend to wear my Halloween sweater (covered in candy corn, pumpkins and ghosts) for the next three days. School is out on Friday so I'm debating what to do with my extra long weekend. As always, it will fall into place. Until next time! 

As you know, I am working part-time at a bilingual school just outside of Granada. Things are going well there although my schedule is even more complicated now that a teacher is out on leave. In order to get enough hours a week, I've been tossed around like a hot potato and worked with a few new teachers this week. 
One English teacher I worked with asked me to conduct a lesson on chocolate. Delighted, I followed the textbook activity, but improvised quite a bit. I had to explain the word "spoonful" so that the students could understand how I consume Nutella on a daily basis. At the end of class they took a quiz that told them what level of chocoholic they are. They totaled their scores and I had the highest score of the whole class... Oops. 
The second English teacher that I worked with asked me to teach vocabulary and dialogue for ordering food in a restaurant. They've been learning British English so no one understood me when I said "Would you like fries with that?... French fries? ... No idea?? Oh, excuse me... chips." 
At the end of class the students had 5 minutes to ask questions. They were appalled at my ideal breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, coffee & juice. For them that is a lot to stomach in the morning. Another student asked if I spoke Spanish. I said "Very little" and the teacher, who wasn't in on my plan to deceive the students and get them to speak only in English, said "That's not true! You speak great Spanish!" My cover was blown! All the students erupted in a collective "Ooooooh!" and I turned bright red. 
In addition to working at the school, I have taken on a few extra hours at a private academy. I had even less training for this position than I did for the first. I showed up 15 minutes before the lesson, was shown my room and then the first student arrived. 
The first class is a group of five 4 year old boys. They are darling but obviously have very limited English. We practice colors, body parts and animals. There is one boy who when asked "How are you?", nods and replies "Luis". There is another boy who pronounces the color red by rolling the 'r' at the beginning: "Rrrrrred!" I have those students for 90 minutes which is a long, long time for 4 year olds.
The second class is one-on-one with a teenage girl. She only comes once a week because the rest of the school days she has violin or basketball practice. I've noticed that Spanish parents often like to load their children down with lots of activities. I feel bad for those who don't even have time to be a kid. 
Finally, my third class is a group of six adults. They are all very good at English and very eager to learn. Before I went into the room, my boss told me that they are very picky, demanding and that they hated their last teacher so much that they wanted to walk out and get their money back. I was very freaked out, to say the least. Once we talked for 5 minutes, I realized that things would be okay. I think I am going to learn a lot from this group because they ask great questions that cause me to think. 
On top of the bilingual school and private academy, I have taken on one more lesson with a 5 year old named Carmen. She is a riot! I try to speak to her just in English but she makes the funniest face and says "¡¿QUÉ?!" and I end up translating. I showed her a world map to point out Spain, Africa and my parents' home. A while later she says, "So you're from Africa?" I laughed and told her no. "Well, it's just that, my parents said a girl was coming from Africa and that her name was Elefante." I could not fight back my laughter as I corrected her and said "I'm from America and my name is Ellie."
Later, I told Carmen I thought she was funny. With a confused look on her face she said, "Funny??" so I said "Ha! Ha! Ha!" "Funny??? Ha? Ha? Ha?" So I translated for her and she said "Oh! Well that's because, when I'm older, I want to be a clown." 

That's all, folks! 

Last week, my friend Martina and I were enjoying some ice cream on a park bench. When I looked up, I saw an old man coming towards me. I assumed he would ask for the time or a lighter. Instead, he looked me in the eye, reached out his hand and said "Hola, buenas tardes." (Hello, good afternoon). He repeated this twice and walked away. The old man didn't acknowledge Martina nor did he proceed to greet anyone else in the vicinity. He just shook my hand and walked away. I sat there a little bit befuddled, watched him weave through benches and people, and I just laughed.

A few days later, I was riding the bus back to my house while listening to music. An older man sat down in front of me and when I saw his lips moving, I took out my headphones to see what he was blabbering about. He gave me and the woman next to me a proper introduction by showing us his ID, shaking our hands and then kissing them. As he continued to chat, I noticed he was missing quite a few teeth. "Where I am from, I am very popular. And you two are very beautiful. So I bet that if you stick with me, you can be popular, too!" The lady beside me and I chuckled and thanked him. He said, "Well this is my stop." and got up. Well, it was not his stop just yet, so I listened to him greet all passengers near the doorway and start from the beginning.

Finally, the other day I was laying in my hammock outside of a park near my house. I noticed an old man on a bench and he had clearly noticed me. After an hour of baking in the sun while attempting to read, I took down my hammock and started to walk. The old man stood up and asked "Do you have the time?" "No," I replied "About 6:30, I'd say." And so, together we began to walk. "Where are you from? What do you do? When did you arrive? How long will you stay?"... The usual slew of questions. When he realized I had only been here a short while, he said "I am going to take you to a tower. Well, a castle. This way..." The man is an Italian who has lives in Granada for 20 years and is very knowledgable about the city and its history. He is also very animated when he talks so often times he would have to stop mid-sentence so he could fully explain himself and use a variety of gestures. Of the few Italians I know, I have noticed they talk a lot with their hands.

When we arrived to the castle, he said "Come here. You know, I work part time as a guide for Ellies who haven't been in Granada long." I followed him on to a ledge, worried that he was going to push me off, but he just pointed out a spectacular view and then we walked back down. He showed me a few churches in the distance and told me a number of stories. Then we said goodbye and went in opposite directions. 

I have been in Granada for about two weeks and the latter was the most difficult. Between a strong urge to be at home and issues in my apartment, I felt very unsettled. Last Saturday I started to look for a new apartment and committed to a room on Sunday. 
On Monday, I decided to go to the beach. The bus was to leave at 11 and after several minor delays, I missed that bus and had to wait for the next departure at 1PM. I walked around a very plain part of the city that I had never seen. I killed two hours drinking coffee, walking, and sitting on a park bench. The bus left the station a few minutes after 1 and arrived to the coastal town of Salobreña at 2. I walked 15 minutes from the bus stop to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea and found a quiet section of the beach where I spent afternoon. Two hours went by quickly as I listened to music, swam in the admittedly cold water and made towers of pebbles while collecting a few to bring home as souvenirs. 

Tuesday thru Friday I went to work at the school. They have finally given me my schedule and it's a bit of a doozy. That's to say, I don't think I'll ever memorize it. My coordinator had to make two separate schedules and I will have to alternate from week to week. Ideally, I would see every group of students in each of their subjects at least once a week for an hour. Unfortunately, some classes are cut in half so I can work with two groups of students in an hour's time. 
If you remember from an earlier blog, one group of students had to ask me a lot of questions and write an essay. I finally got to read them and they really crack me up. Here are a few gems from my biography written by :

• She's nickname is Ellie but her real name is Danielle.
  
• She doesn't like tomato and she hasn't got a boyfriend.
  
• She hates snow, the cold and tomatoes. / She heat the snow.
  
• Her hobits are run read writte.
  
• She likes coca-cola and water.
  
• She had very good marks at university.
  
• She has got two nephews. Nephews' ages are 15 and 10 years old. The nephew that is 15 years old, is a pilot. They live in Chio. / Alex is 15 years old. He can fly a plane and do skateboard. Ellie has got a niece too! her name is Taylor, and she is 10 years old.
  
• Her favourite place is Waderndo. / Her favourite place is Watermalz. / Her favourite place is Watemala. (They meant Guatemala)
  
• Her mother have an adwards.
  
• Her parents are separated and live in Virgen. (I did not say my parents were separated. I tried to explain the concept of a half-brother but I think some things got lost in translation)
  
• She loves pizza, paella, to swim in the ocean, her dog, brocoli, gourd and the beach. (By gourd, they mean zucchini)

Well, that was more than a few quotes, but they all made me laugh. I'll have to correct them later in the week and tell them that I don't have hobits, my parents aren't separated and I don't live in Virgen. 
This week I taught fractions, decimals, equations, planets & outerspace, muscles & joints, parts of a cell, and heterotrophic & autotrophic beings. I am going to learn more biology this year than I did as a student. 

So on Friday, I moved to a new apartment (well, it's more like a house) on the other side of town. Where I was previously living had a lot of noise from traffic, construction, and drunks. The new neighborhood is much more "tranquilo". The house is very spacious and well lit. It feels homey and I felt comfortable immediately. My roommates are a German girl who studies translation at the university and the other is a Spanish guy who is an artist and a writer. They are both very friendly and I enjoy their company. 
When it came time to move, most everyone who had offered to help me went off the grid for one legitimate reason or another. In the end, I carried all 8 bags (some suitcases, some small bags) to the elevator and got in a taxi which took me to the house which is up on a hill. The driver dropped me off around the corner from my house and in two trips I was able to get the bags to the door. I unpacked most everything on Friday, organized on Saturday and will work on decorating over the next few months. I sorely regret not bring any art or pictures. I'll have to print some pictures soon. 
Here's a picture of the sitting room in the new place:

Not only is it a great space, it's also in a great location. The view from just outside the house is spectacular. The sun sets behind the Sierra Nevada and Granda lights up just below the mountain ridge. Near the house is a place called Carmen de los Martires which is a public park of gardens. I've seen some over-fed ducks and have been told that there are also peacocks in the park. (The term for peacock in Spanish is "pavo real" which means royal turkey. It's always made me laugh.) Yesterday when I walked through the gardens I saw three different couples taking their wedding photos. It was quite an ordeal. Like going to the Botanic Gardens in Chicago during Spring/Summer, but in a significantly smaller space. A lot of the park looks enchanted and at one point you can see the Alhambra in the distance. 
There is another park just below the Carmen de los Martires. It has a fantastic photography exhibit of national parks worldwide and also cool animals and plants. Just walking down that path, I feel like I've traveled to many more countries. One of my favorites was a volcano in Russia (see below). 

Hope all of you are doing well! Hasta pronto!