Food - My Favorite Subject.

Whenever I've had a difficult morning at school trying to understand my professors, I just look forward to the wonderful lunch I'm going to have 3 o'clock. The food my host mother, Inés, prepares keeps me going. I don't have to go a restaurant to taste good Spanish cuisine, because Inés brings it to the table everyday. And I eat like a pig, but I've lost weight. I don't know if it's because Spaniards only cook with healthy olive oil, Inés serves each meal with a salad and a fruit or I walk so much. It doesn't matter because the Spanish diet is the best diet I've ever tried.

Bull Crap

Sunday, I had the pleasure/misfortune of watching the last corrida de toros of the season at La Plaza de Toros de la Maestranza in Sevilla. A bullfight is a must-see for tourists and it's still popular for natives, of course. I knew that watching the bull die would not be pretty, but it didn't hit me until I saw it. It didn't hit me until I saw a bull vomiting blood after having his back muscles stabbed over and over again. 'It' is the feeling of shame, watching a animal die for no apparent reason. But as I went on to watch five more bulls die, I thought about the enormous amount of skill it takes to be a torero and the fact that I love to eat meat of other animals when I could very well become a vegetarian. I'm torn. I don't know whether I had the pleasure or misfortune of watching the bullfight. What do you think? Watch the videos below and answer the poll to the right.

(A torero barely escapes the horns of an angry bull.)



(A banderillero sticks banderillas, or brightly colored sticks with harpoon points, in the bull's back to weaken its muscles. Afterward the torero continues to run the bull in circles with his cape and the bull continues to bleed. Finally, the torero stabs the bull's back with a sword and kills it.)

(A picture of Meghan, Jori, Kim and I before the bullfight. I was so happy and naive.)

Ain't no concert like a Spanish concert...

Ain't no concert like a Spanish concert because a Spanish concert don't stop. Seriously. My friends (Katie, Kim and Jori) and I had seven hours of fun at Alejandro Sanz' concert. The concert was the last of his "El tren de los momentos" tour and the celebration of the centennial of the Real Betis fútbol club, so we knew we were going to have a great time. The Estadio Olímpico de Sevilla was abuzz with nearly 30,000 people adorned in green and white, the colors of Real Betis. Upon arrival, everyone received a free green or white T-shirt (and an In Touch magazine) by showing his/her concert ticket. On the shirt and our tickets, we realized that there were 13 amigos joining Alejandro, a native of Madrid or madrileño. We listened to the opening acts sing traditional Sevillanas songs, rap, pop and rock. When the traditional songs played, people in the stands and on the stage floor grabbed their partners and begin to dance the Sevillanas. (See the video.)


Between each song, the musicians would start a Real Betis chant. My favorite was:

"Junto. (Together.)
Siempre junto. (Forever together.)
Real Betis.
Siempre tuyos. (Forever yours.)"

All the verdiblancos would jump around with their banners and proudly display their affection for the soccer team. (Sidebar: Verdiblancos is the nickname for the fans based on Real Betis' colors, verde, or green, and blanco, or white.) Being an ultimate dork, I joined in, knowing that I would stick out like a sore thumb. But noone minded. Everyone was content while drinking Cruzcampo beer or smoking a cigarette every 45 minutes. Between the dancing and the soccer chants, I have never seen such a display of patriotism or love for history as I did Saturday night. (Sidebar: The next concert I go to in the States, I'm determined to start a Tar Heels chant.)

When the opening acts finished and the lights turned off, Katie and I had just finished a bathroom and refreshment break. So we tried to weasel through the crowd to get closer to Alejandro and our friends. We lost Kim and Jori, who ended up merely 20 feet away, but all enjoyed ourselves nonetheless. Alejandro played his greatest hits like Mi amiga mía and Quisiera ser and his newer hits like Te lo agradezco, pero no. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the songs are about. That's okay, I'll figure that out later. But the music was simply awesome! He had multi-cultural, international band of folks from New York, Argentina and Spain, of course. And he had more guest artists joined him on stage. Again, I have no idea who they were. But if they're friends of Alejandro, they're good with me. For his encore, the crowd shouted "Aaaa-le-jan-dro (Clap. Clap. Clap, Clap, Clap)," and "Otra. Otra. (Another song)" Then he came out, sang two more songs and pranced around with the Real Betis banner on his shoulders. (Sigh.) In the words of Frankie Valli, "Oh, what a night!"

My next ventures: learn the meaning of Alejandro's songs, attend a soccer game and marry a Spaniard who can sing Alejandro's songs to me. (Sidebar: I'm just joking Mom, Dad, aunts and uncles.)

(Sorry. Taking a photo of the screen was the best I could do.)

(Katie and I amidst the post-concert debris.)

(A picture of a lady's bum, which was taken while my friends and I were in line to get free T-shirts. Her jeans read "Don't touch," and she doesn't have to tell me twice.)

Bummed out no longer.

I went to my first doctor's visit Thursday. It wasn't bad. I was able to understand everything the doctor said about my bum foot. Due to walking nearly two hours a day, back and forth from home and school, my right foot became swollen. I have very flat feet, so it's not hard to figure out why my foot has died on me. The doctor told me wear a bandage, to not walk, of course, and to take an anti-inflammatory pill in the morning and at at night. He also said I have to bath my foot in warm water for three to four minutes, do the same in cool water, dry it and then massage it with anti-inflammatory cream three times a day. The visit was free and I only had to pay 8 Euros for the two prescriptions. Yay, universal Spanish health care system!

The treatment is really paying off. My foot used to look like Eddie Murphy's foot in The Nutty Professor when he suddenly changed from thin, handsome Buddy Love to bloated Sherman Klump. Now, it's nearly back to normal. I've been cooped up in the apartment for the past three days as to stay off my feet, but tonight I'm going to enjoy the sounds of Alejandro Sanz. Sevilla is the last stop of his 2007 tour entitled "El tren de los momentos." I fell in love with Sanz during his 2002 Grammy performance with Destiny's Child, and a bum foot will not keep me away from him tonight. Woo hoo!

When in Rome/Fighting the System

No, I haven't gone to Rome. But if the Romans have a more simple school system than the Sevillanos, I might give up paella for pizza. My classmates and I started school Monday at la Universidad de Sevilla. I walked in excited, with my schedule perfectly highlighted and marked. I just knew things were going to work out, (sigh)... but I was wrong.

Most U.S. students have a hard time adjusting in the fall. In the States, the fall semester begins in late August and ends in mid-December to enjoy the winter holidays. In Spain and other European countries, the semester begins in late September. Everyone takes a break for the winter holidays and resumes classes in January to finish the semester in late January of early February. It makes absolutely know sense to me.

The students in the UNC in Sevilla program have to leave in December, so we were forced to travel up and down the halls of La Universidad de Sevilla, sit in an hour-long class and then ask the professor if he/she will allow U.S. students to take the exam early. I got shot down three times by professors who weren't willing to budge. That meant I had to keep searching for classes for which I would receive transfer credit at UNC. I was about to spaz, but Ángeles, my program director, said, "Tranquila, Dioni. Tranquila."

Soon I started to having fun amidst the chaos. It was as if I were playing musical chairs with literature and philosophy classes. And, yes, I have finalized my schedule. I'm super-excited about one course, in which I'll study the Quran or el Corán. So I hope to graduate on time on
May 10, 2009. But if not, my excuse will be, "I got screwed by the system."


Here are some more key differences between the Spanish and U.S. university systems:

1. Tuition in Spanish public universities is very modest compared to those in the U.S. Tuition here can range from 500 to 800 Euros ($750 to $1200). But Spanish students don't have as many resources -- large gyms, campus health services or the many computer stations seen in the States.
2. Nearly all of the students live at home and commute. Dorms are few and far between on Spanish campuses.
3. The 'campus' of the Universidad de Sevilla is not centralized in the same sense as American universities. For example, UNC campus buildings are situated in one, very large area. Sevilla's campus is spread throughout town, so you have to catch a bus or walk for 30 minutes from the School of Geography and History to the School of Business. Sevilla has about five main, but separate locations.
4. Due to the decentralized campus and other factors, Sevillano students are only allowed to take classes in one school. So Rafael could not receive a degree in Law and Medicine like I could double major in Journalism and Spanish. On the other hand, having only one concentration allows Sevillanos to have a profound wealth of knowledge in that one area.
5. Each of the different disciplines or schools have its own system, including its own teachers, classrooms, exam schedules and beginning and ending dates of classes. It's not too different from schools in the States, but I showed up Monday to a history class to learn that the history department wouldn't start classes until Wednesday, but the Spanish Philology department began classes Monday. Each department has it's own copistería. A copistería is a Kinko's, of sorts, where students can buy photocopies, school supplies, textbooks and the 'syllabus' for each class. On UNC's campus, students visit a one-stop shop for class materials in several departments.
6. The 'syllabus' in the states is an ironclad schedule of day-to-day events that lists your required text and due dates for homework, papers and exams. In Sevilla, the professor gives students a general list of themes and an optional bibliography. So students might not have homework and might not have read one book an entire semester.
7. In the States, participation is usually a part of your grade. In Sevilla, the less participation the better.
8. In Sevilla, learning is individual. Professors don't host study groups or review sessions and they might not attend their hours of consultation. At Carolina, our professors beg us to come to office hours and receive help. What a difference!
9. The grading system here is based on a scale of one to 10. Below five is failing and a 10 is out-of-the-world amazing, because some teachers pride themselves on grading toughly.
10. Library books are mainly for consultation in Sevilla, so you can check them out for months at a time. (I hear that's what people do at UNC.)
    

The View from the Top.

Friday night, I went to a two-hour bachata dance class. A few friends and I are falling in love with the Spanish dance. There's no easy way to describe the dance in words, so view the video below. (Sidebar: I didn't create the video, but it was structured similarly to the class I attended. A couple in the background gets lost amidst the intricate, arm-twisting turns and I totally understand the couple's plight.)



Most people go stag to the classes, so the women end up in one line facing the guys. Then they pass us around like spinning tops when the teacher says "cambio' or change. I had to check with a few mean guys, a few rhythm-less guys, a few old guys and, of course, a few guys whose heads barely make it to my chin. When my friends and I left, we were thinking that we're definitely going to take some dance classes. Classes here are cheaper than those in the states.

We tried to find a good discoteca at which we could practice are new moves. But we walked through the entire historic district of Sevilla to no avail. The entrance at the discoteca we really liked cost 10 Euros. To that we said, "Uh huh!" and began to march home. On the way, my friend Sean said, "I think I'm taking all this [history and architecture] for granted. I walk by the Cathedral everyday." He was correct. We had just toured La Catedral de Sevilla on Wednesday, and I walked by it as if it were nothing.

La Catedral de Sevilla is the largest Gothic church in the world and it's only 30 minutes away from my apartment. The cathedral, like many buildings in Spain, was built by Arabs and used to be a 12th-century mosque. La Giralda tower, the arches and the Patio de Naranjos, where the Muslims would wash their hands and feet before entering the main part of the cathedral. Three centuries later, when the cathedral was Christianized, Gothic architecture was added to the church. The large, stain glass windows, bell fry atop La Giralda, aisles separated by columns and high ceilings are Gothic elements. The height of the ceiling is nearly 138 feet. That's 20 Shaquille O'Neals standing on top of one another!

Of course, the most popular part of the cathedral is La Giralda. Everyone has to climb it -- all 32 ramps. There are no stairs because it was easier for the Arabs to ride their horses to the top. Believe me, the view from the top is worth the climb.

A view of La Giralda from El Patio de Naranjos (orange trees).

The view of El Patio de Naranjos (orange trees) from La Giralda.

Over dinner.

My host sister, Ana, is quite the little comedian. She's 11 and just started the school year Monday. While at dinner Wednesday night, she told us that one of her teachers is a ruja, a witch. I asked why and she showed me how the teacher walks with her neck extended forward like a turtle and her back hunched up. Then Ana said the elderly teacher, who will retire in October, carries Pokémon and Barbie folders. I said maybe they were gifts from her grandchildren, but Ana's convinced the woman is crazy.

It's mandatory for the Spanish students to learn English and either French or Spanish. While we're trying to become fluent in Spanish, she's testing out her English on us. I must say, she's not bad. I guess it's due to her constantly singing the entire soundtrack from High School Musical 2 (two or dos, whichever you prefer).

"What time is it?
It's summer time. It's urh (our) vacation.
What time is it?
That’s right. Say you (it) loud.”

Of course, I laughed and said, "Estás loca." Ana said, "Yo sé."

Translation: I said, "You're crazy." Ana said, "I know."


(Sidebar: In Spain, eating meals as a family is very important. Most people return home for lunch and dinner, unless they all go to a restaurant. When everyone gets together, you watch the TV and comment on whatever was discussed on the news or what happened at school. It's very important to eat at the table too. Twice a day, my host mother has my roommate, Kareemah, Ana and I set the table. I'm talking about the Full Monty - changing table cloths, bringing out the bread basket and pitcher of water, setting the bowl on top of the plate and putting the fork to the left, the knife to the right and the cup at the 1 o'clock position above the plate. Then we sit down and she serves us. It's becoming more common in the States for Mom to cook dinner only to have the kids take their plates in the living room or in the bedroom. Think about it. Goldie Hawn and Roseanne Barr have to tell us the importance of sitting at the dining room table to dine and converse. If and when I have a family, I'll try to bring the Spanish tradition to my home.)

Picture: (From left to right.) My host sister, Ana, and her friend, Miriam, sit down to enjoy paella, a rice and seafood dish.