¡Viva España!

Life has been going nonstop.
It seems that when you only have a short amount of time to spend in a place like this, you have to take every advantage to live it. As a friend of mine here says, "Cuando en Mallorca..."

This past weekend was a chance to not only explore this new part of the world, but to get to know my classmates and the others in my program a little bit better. And lemme tell you, these people are cool. They're all here with different stories and different backgrounds, but the best part is hearing about the country(ies) they've lived and worked in. And every time I meet someone new, and hear another story, I treasure it in my heart for my future teaching career...wherever it may take me.

Our common ground is this program and our desire to teach and perhaps travel, which has made for the most wonderful opportunities to mingle with people, share meals, and explore the island despite any differences in age or experience. I've estimated that about a hundred people are taking classes during this first session of studies and even if I don't know everyone personally, I can confidently say that I recognize everyone's faces and maybe even know their names. Which makes it fun when, at the local grocery store or beach, you run into a fellow classmate or professor. My class has been wonderful. I'm learning SO much every day. We have a bit of a reputation as the "loud" class, haha. Apparently, the neighboring classrooms can hear our heated discussions and frequent laughter through the walls. Ahh, I can't believe Friday is the last day of this first session. Then it's a new teacher and a new class.

Anyway, this weekend the school organized a "class trip" to the hill town of Valldemossa which is inland, about 30 minutes from where we are at the coast. It's touted as being the most beautiful city on the island and the former temporary residence of composer Chopin and writer George Sand. It did not disappoint. The streets were cobblestoned, the trees were leafy, the walls of the homes were lined with charming flowerpots, and the views were breathtaking.

This is the town's patron saint. Plaques like this one can be found at every doorway.

After wandering Valldemossa and enjoying a Spanish lunch under the sun, we traveled to La Granja, an old Spanish manor house and former monastery that is a kind of museum now, with gardens and rooms containing the items that would have been found there during that time period.

Sunday was a day of catch-up. Catch up on sleep, catch up on school work, catch up on time spent by the pool. Sunday night was the Eurocup soccer finals--Spain versus Italy. And while I'd normally take the Italian side in honor of my last name, it was all about Espana. We ended up watching it at a local spot with lots of passionate Spaniards. What a great people. They celebrated the win by singing, jumping, running the streets, blasting Spanish music, and waving their beloved flag. Every car, bus, and motorbike drove down the street leaning on their horns or beeping them incessantly, and waving one or more Spanish flags out the windows. I wasn't in the center of town, but I heard that it was chaos there, people jumping in the fountains and celebrating all night. Viva Espana!

An ongoing problem that I don't think I'll ever resolve is the lack of sleep. The sun stays out until about 9:30/10pm, which makes it feel like it's only 7pm. No wonder they eat dinner here around 9! It always feels like such a long day, but I'm not complaining--I love it!

Yesterday, a classmate invited the class to her beautiful open-air apartment in the city to eat Ethiopian food for lunch. Any other spare time after classes has been spent cooling off in the water here. The weather's been HOT. Which is something else I'm not complaining about but when you have to walk a mile to and from school, let's just say it means you can't exactly wear the same shirt more than once. 

Tomorrow, I'll be thinking of you all on the Fourth of July. There's a place near the school that's hosting a "Fourth of July Barbecue" for the TCNJ students, whatever that means. I'm excited to find out, but I'm sure it'll be nothing like the real thing. Enjoy your hamburgers and fireworks for me!

Of Kings and Coastlines

Classes are underway in Mallorca and while I welcome the company of other students and the opportunity to meet people from around the world while I'm learning about what I love, I'm not a fan of homework. Or of five-hour classes. Small sacrifices, I guess.

My school is located directly across the street from the King's Palace. Not the palace I mentioned in a previous post, so I am assuming that the King can afford more than one pad. Our organizer said that in the past, the King and his possy have come to stay at the palace and he's sent his "people" over to the school to ask for a list of all those attending classes, as well as our passport ID numbers. He didn't say why, but I'm assuming it's a security measure. Why else would the King care about us? Also, how crazy is it that I'm living in a country run by a monarch? That's a first. The school, which is about a 20-minute walk from my hotel, is on a corner, and on the side adjacent to the palace is the beach! We've been bringing our swim stuff to school, changing right after class, and spending the afternoons in the sun. I can only assume that this is the sort of thing you do if you live in Florida or Hawaii, but not Central Jersey. So I am thrilled about this, to say the least. Also, the beach looks like this!

And speaking of the beach, did you know that the Spanish are super self-conscious about saying that word in English because of a another very different English word that sounds a lot like "beach?" Just a fun fact.

I've been spending most of my time with TCNJ students who I know or recognize from my classes this past year. However, at least half of the students in my class during this first session are either from other countries originally, or from the states but currently live and teach in foreign countries. Said countries include Indonesia, China, India, Turkey, Argentina, Kuwait, and Norway. It's been so cool to hear their stories and learn from their experiences. There are fifteen students in my class, and a broad spectrum of ages, but we've all bonded pretty quickly after just two days.

It's getting to be past my bedtime here so I'm about to sign off. Not entirely sure when I'll get to post again but hopefully, by the end of the weekend. Hasta luego!

Do I Really Have to Go to School?

Today is my last day completely free from academic responsibility, and I decided to spend it--why not?--poolside. Leisure-reading, people-watching, and  dozing in between book chapters. I began noticing new people at the pool today. Sure, there was that one British family that wear socks and sneakers and bandanas to the pool and always takes over the one shady cabana that they use for drinking their tea. And there's that one supermodel couple who I still haven't heard speak a language yet so I have no idea of their nationality. The guy looks Italian but the woman looks German. They make a huge deal about showering off in the outdoor shower before getting in the pool and then take like three laps, hop out, and head back to their hotel room. There's also the occasionally topless mom who is surprisingly not French (I have yet to hear French spoken  on this island) and an old man who likes to sleep in the shade.

But in addition to the standard cast of characters, today I noticed a bigger number of single people. Young people who were there on their own...with freaking highlighters and printed pages of text. I recognized two of them from one of my classes last semester and normally, I'd welcome the opportunity to connect with some of the others who will be in my classes, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I mean, I know I am going to be that person by tomorrow afternoon. In fact, I'm staring at my own highlighters and paper clips sitting on my desk right now, but they are still in the original bag in which I packed them. And they are staying there until 8:30 tomorrow morning. In my classmates' defense, we were advised to look over the posted syllabi for our upcoming classes and read ahead if we wanted to be on top of things. And luckily, there was no reading posted for my class so I suppose they are being good students and doing what they're supposed to. But I think if I were them, I would have done my reading before I left the states. I even made "accidental" eye contact with one of the girls as I was leaving the pool, and I think she probably recognized me but the problem is, for the next 16 hours or so, I'm still on vacation. When in Spain...mañana.


So don't hate me, but this is the view from my hotel room. Which was upgraded after I found an absolutely enormous bug crawling across my ceiling, down the wall, and threatening very wildly to join me in bed. Small sacrifices.

I'm about to get ready to attend orientation, which begins in a few hours. And where I'll be feigning great surprise to find out "you're staying at my hotel too?" And saying things like, "Oh, I thought I saw you at the pool this afternoon but I wasn't sure it was you!" When really, I was sure it was you. But I was on vacation.

Palma de Mallorca

Finally got the chance to venture into the city yesterday, which is about ten minutes by bus from where I'm staying. I'd been dying to see it--the island's capital, and the place in my guidebook where you'll find plenty of my pink highlighting. I took a long walk and saw some sights: a landmark church with architecture by Gaudi, plenty of seascapes and anchored boats, Arab Baths leftover from the tenth (!) century, skinny back streets with Spanish tiles in the walls and bright flowers spilling from window boxes up above, and (unfortunately?) mobs of foreign tourists. The sightseeing continued today when I decided to take a bus tour to get to the corners of Palma that I wasn't sure I could access on legs alone, and after these two days I'm ready to move on to the other parts of the island to see some less-frequented sites and explore some of the natural island coves and terrain.

But, first thing's first. I promised pictures! So here are just a few snapshots of life around here out of the hundreds of photes I've already taken.

On the street leading up to my hotel.

The Spanish royal family's summer palace in Palma, the island's capital.

No shortage of street artists in the city.

Beautiful, quiet gardens outside the Arab Baths.

Palma's famous Cathedral, right on the water.

The Mediterranean Sea!

Palm trees.

Castle Bellver: Former castle, then prison, high up on a hill.

View of Palma from the top of the castle.

Royal palace on the left, Cathedral on the right.

Old Spanish well in a courtyard inside the old Cathedral.

I was frustrated yesterday when I discovered I'd left my writer's notebook in my hotel room. All these first impressions stuck in my head and nowhere to put them! So, on a tiny, quarter-piece of paper I found on the backside of a bus map, I scribbled out the following:

-A mix of France and Italy
-Smells like France
-EUROPEAN tourists
-Days are long
-Some places teem with tourists. And then you turn a corner and the whole world is yours. Just chirping birds and musica falling into the cobblestone streets from open apartment windows.

This afternoon, after feeling that I'd adequately indulged the tourist in me, I played with the idea of sitting down to lunch somewhere. Which in itself wasn't a bad idea, but I worried that I'd end up in a cafe that only catered to tourists and didn't serve very good food, a common problem in the neighborhoods around the big European attractions. There was a road by the cathedral lined with cafes and book-ended on either side by high-class European clothing stores. I walked up the entire street glancing at every menu. Then I walked down the street again, sizing up the type of crowd that each of the cafes attracted. Then I walked back up the street and picked the cafe that had the most people and most families (as opposed to old men). Table for one. The waiter led me to a shaded table at the back of the outdoor plaza, right next to...the only other person I vaguely know from my program at TCNJ. What are the odds? :) So instead of a table for one, it became a table for two, as she'd just put in her own lunch order. Let's call this new friend M since this blog is somewhat public and I don't want to get myself into any trouble with privacy issues haha.

M just arrived last night and hadn't even begun to try to figure out the city, so after a long, relaxing lunch, I told her about what I'd already seen and we did some walking and went inside the cathedral together for a tour. Lovely afternoon.

I can't believe it's only been four days that I've been here. Less, really, since I didn't arrive until Friday afternoon. It all feels very comfortable and I there are so many similarities to France that it also seems somewhat familiar. Tomorrow night is class orientation at the school where I'll have the chance to meet the rest of the students I'll be learning with, as well as the professors, and hopefully get some good advice about other places to go and things to see, and how to make the most of the rest of my days in Mallorca.

Goodnight for now, from the other side of this crazy, mind-blowing world we live in.

Mañana...

Depending on how long I can stay awake, this entry has the possibility to be a long one. It's been about 48 hours in Mallorca but somehow, it feels far longer. I've settled in nicely to my apartment style hotel room, and have oriented myself with the immediate area, which is full of other hotels, skinny roads, surprise staircases, palms and flowers, and German tourists. It's been a lot of fun people-watching and trying to figure out who belongs to what country. Mallorca is a popular destination for German and Dutch tourists, which I was well aware of before I came here, but I sometimes think I hear more German than I do Spanish! My Spanish comprehension--and even production--has improved a lot in just a couple of days. And by improved, I mean that my initial knowledge of a bout 25 words is now up to maybe 50 which isn't tremendous, but I get by. I find that I can clearly understand everything that is said to me in Spanish and everything that I read, but I can still only speak in broken two or three word Spanish sentences. Luckily, most people are willing to speak in English and can do so quite well, since it's a tourist area.

One of the things I've been realizing since I arrived here is how quickly I'd forgotten how American I am. And I don't mean the typical defining characteristics of the American tourist like the clothes I wear or my immature Spanish accent or my overly exaggerated American facial expressions and ridiculous hand gestures. Those things I accepted about myself a long time ago. What I've become keenly aware of is my American mindset. I spent the past couple of weeks in non-stop prep mode for this trip. Which was added to my usual schedule of being practically everywhere at once. Which normally, is the way I like it. That kind of full week always gives me a feeling of accomplishment and purpose and productivity. But here, where the national slogan is "mañana," and everyone is on vacation, no one answers to a schedule.

Yesterday, my first full, lucid day in Spain, I woke up ready to take on the city. If you know me, you know I've been reading my Mallorca guidebook since May and that it's currently color-coded, highlighted, and marked with (super American-looking) neon post-it flags. And I wanted to start checking off my list. The night before when I called home, my mom so kindly recommended that I simply relax and take it easy because I had no where to go, no timetable to keep. And I decided to take that advice, but it was so much harder than it sounds. I spent a few hours at the hotel pool instead of rushing into the city, but my brain refused to turn off. I kept having the feeling that there was somewhere I needed to be, something I needed to do. But there wasn't. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. And I just had to keep taking deep breaths all day to remind myself of this. Apparently, America can really screw with your head.

I've learned pretty quickly that the concept of time here is a mere suggestion. I first noticed this at the hotel breakfast yesterday which, according to my room information pamphlet, ends at 10:30am. In my jet lagged fog, I woke up at about 9:45 and rushed through my morning routine so as not to miss breakfast--mt first fresh meal of the trip. I made it shortly after 10 and was amazed not only at how many people arrived at breakfast along with me, but at how many people showed up long after I did. And had no problem taking their time to eat. I've stayed at plenty of hotels in my life and I can distinctly remember showing up to continental breakfast just before the end time and the hotel staff had already started removing the fresh food and empty coffee carafes. Points for Spain. 

The American in me came out later on when I began to search for a way to figure out the time. There is no clock in my hotel room. Which I didn't think much about until after I'd picked up a mini travel one at the store. There is also no clock or time displayed in any other part of the hotel or pool area or nearby mall. Which was initially frustrating since I can't tell day from night at the moment, but I eventually realized that this wasn't an oversight or a way to save on hotel expenses. There aren't any clocks because no one (except the insane American) is ever looking for the time. Time does not exist. I'm on an island. In the Mediterranean. And I am finally accepting this fact, starting now.

I did get into the city part of the island today, and it is beautiful. I plan to write about it and post pictures within the next day or so. It's late here, and I just witnessed my first enormous "island bug" which is another story for tomorrow. Mañana . I like the sound of it already.