Tuesday the 13th

I'm in class right now, so I shouldn't be writing, but my professor brought up the fact that Tuesday the 13th is the day of bad luck in Spain, not Friday the 13th. But nobody's talking about bad luck today. They prefer to talk about (Spanish) King Juan Carlos I telling Venezuelan Hugo Chavez to shut up this past weekend. My señora Inés thinks Chavez is a dictator. I'll refrain from criticizing him now because the rest of the world has already done so. If you don't know what I'm talking about, see the video below.

The Spanish president, José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, was addressing the crowd at the XVII Cumbre Iberoamericana (where all the heads of government within the Hispanic community meet), when Chavez decided to interrupt him and continue to talk over him. That's when King Juan Carlos I, as to defend his president, said, "¿Por qué no te callas?" or "Why don't you shut up?" in English. The king's outburst has become the new catch phrase for songs and T-shirts. I wouldn't be surprised if it's the basis of a skit on Saturday Night Live this weekend. Watch the show and tell me about it next week.

Morocco...can you feel it?!

I can still feel it. Desert sand from the Sahara is still in my hair and great memories and sights keep playing in my mind. Unfortunately, I broke my camera in Granada doing N*Sync dance moves so I have to steal pictures from friends. As soon as I get them, I'll post them. Anyhoo, here are some highlights below.

Things to Know about Morocco:
- Morocco is an Arab, Muslim country.
- Morocco and Spain are separated by the Straight of Gibraltar, which stretches to 27 miles (43 km) at its widest point.
- Dirhans are the Moroccan currency (10 dirhans = 1 Euro = 1.50 U.S. dollars).
- Northern Morocco is 'Spanish Morocco' and southern Morocco is "French Morocco."
- Morocco and Spain have fought in wars, some Spaniards don't appreciate Moroccan immigrants and two Spanish territories, Ceuta and Melilla, are physically located in Morocco.

Highlights of Morocco:
Day 1: Wednesday, October 31
- We traveled from Sevilla to Tarifa, Spain, to catch the 35-minute ferry to Tanger, Morocco, where we met out Moroccan guide, Leila.
- Traveled to Volubilis, a city of Roman ruins dating back to 40 A.D. that still has much of the city intact. The large arches at the entrance, the columns, mosaics and...uh, vomitoriums, were entrancing.
- We hopped back on the bus to take a short ride to Meknes, a former royal city and an iconic city in the Islamic world. It's beautifully decorated Bab al-Mansour gate is simply impressive. Directly across the street stood a huge market, bustling with beautiful people (some women were covered from head to toe while others dressed like kids in America), street performers, restuarants, clothing stores in small alleyways and more. We only had 30 minutes to partake in the wonderful madness.

Day 2: Thursday, November 1
- On on long bus ride through the vast and breathtaking Atlas Mountains, we stopped in Ifrane. Ifrane is called the Switzerland of Morocco. The city, which is home to expensive ski resorts, looks like any other in the U.S. It was our first taste of 'civilization' as we knew it in Morocco and I enjoyed it. Ifrane is also home to a huge statue of a lion called the Lion of Atlas, referring to the mountain range.
- The rest of the day was basically spent on the bus because we had to travel to the Sahara Desert. We ate lunch in Midelt thenm continued toward Rissani. There we hung out at a ranch where Moroccan men showed us traditional rugs and turbans used in the dessert. They also served us a meat and onion-stuffed pizza-like dish and tea. Then we hopped in their jeeps to head to Merzuga, our residence for the night in the Sahara.
- I had the best time in Merzuga. At the hotel/restuarant, we were served tajine, a North African dish made of slow cooked-meat with vegetables and sauce made in the ceramic pot also called the tajine. Young musicians sang and played music for us as we ate, then we all went to an outside patio to enjoy more song and dance numbers. My friends and I ended up clapping and dancing with them. I felt so free...free enough to belly dance and fling my hair around like a rock star with the female dancer.
- The night was not over. My friend Micheal and I became friends with two Swedes, Jonas (the 'j' is pronounced like the English 'y') and Magnus. We, at the behest of our lively tour guide, Mónica, ran up and down the sand dunes in the backyard to watch the moon rise. Michael had the great idea to roll down the sand dunes, so we all ended up eating dirt rolling down them individually and with partners. Needless to say, we had sand coming from every orifice. And that's why I still have sand in my hair. This sand is very, very fine, so I have a feeling I'll be home for Christmas with these little treasures from the desert.

Day 3: Friday, November 2
- The next day, we woke up at 4 a.m. That's right...4 a.m. to ride camels over the dunes to watch the sunset. I was super excited to ride the camel. The camels sealed the deal on paying a ton of money on the trip. But, camels don't look so friendly. I think they were just waking up, so they were making ungodly, throaty noises and the grinding of their teeth is quite unattractive. And once I sat atop a camel, you realized I was in for a bumpy ride. The camels rise on their feet by first lifting up their front legs and then the back legs. Can you say scary? But it was pretty much smooth sailing after that (They slid down a little bit going down the sand dunes.) And the initial scares were worth the view of the sun rising over the large, caramel-colored sand dunes. It's indescribable.
- We soon rode our camels back to hotel to eat breakfast, to ride the Jeeps back to Rissani and get on the bus yet again. We the entire day on the bus, but I didn't mind. I caught up on sleep and knew that we were headed to Fez, one of the largest cities in Morocco. Fez is a city which is made up of the old medina and the modern part of town recently constructed by the French.

Day 4: Saturday, November 3
- We woke up bright and early to tour the famous medina in Fez. Like the tour guide said eight million times, the medina "is a city within a city. It is comprised of thousands of little shops connected by narrow alleyways. We almost were ran over by the donkey's carrying merchandise, though. That was not fun, but visiting some of the quintessential shops in the medina was amazing, for example, we visited a legendary leather shop in the Tanneries Quarter. From its terrace rooftop we could view the huge, circular dye pits, in which the workers dye the animal skin after it's been cured and softened in pigeon dung. Oh yeah, the shop smelled like the poop, but the handmade purses, luggage and shoes were gorgeous. We visited a textile shop where people were working on the loom to make beautiful, multi-colored scarfs and blankets. Of course, I had to buy one. The next shop sold traditional Moroccan apparel, such as the robe-like kaftans and hooded djellaba (the 'd' is silent). We exited through the Bab Boujloud is considered the main entry to the Medina because of its beautiful and impressive door that is blue on one side and green on the other.
- Once the tour ended, we had the entire afternoon free. So my crew and I headed off to lunch in the modern part of Fez. Again, we hit a language barrier. Monica, the guide, had to translate our orders from Spanish to French. After eating our pizzas we just walked through the city, which looks like any large American city. The older people wore traditional robe-like attire, while the younger folk wore blue jeans and knit tops. We eventually spotted a McDonald's, which advertised the new McArabian burger, but we were harassed by these little eight-year-old girls. One actually hit Michael after he refused to purchase a leaf. Yes, a leaf!
-After our run-in with the diminutive beggars-in-training, we went back to the hotel to journal, use the Internet and rest before dinner. We had to eat dinner quickly because we all headed out to a show, which boasted performers from different neighborhoods in Fez. Performers included singers, musicians and a fire-eating belly dancer. People from the audience, included my roommate, Kareemah, joined the performers on stage. Kareemah was one of four women who reenacted a wedding reception, in which the brides were lifted up into carriages and doted upon. It was awesome! If I had the time and money, I would definitely hit up Fez again.

Day 5: Sunday, November 4
- We woke up early again to eat breakfast and check out of our hotel. This day was to be our last in Morocco, but on the way back to the ferry to Spain, we stopped at a few more sites.
- We visited a market, which is only open on Sundays. The market is not even located in a city, but rather is in the center of neighboring communities. Here, the neighbors gather to sell and buy clothes, fruits, vegetables or whatever else is needed. Michael and I were broke, so we were trying to find some good bargains.
- Then we finally arrived in Chauen (or Chaouen). The town came out of nowhere. Chauen, which sits in the Rif mountains, is a well-preserved medina from the15th century. It was the Muslim civilization of Andulucía, the province in which Sevilla resides. The town is famous for its relaxed atmosphere, narrow streets with blue-white walls and its adorable children who greet you in Spanish. The blue and white colors alternate to reflect sunlight and repel mosquitoes. And all blue streets or steps indicate that there is only one way to enter and exit.
- I had the best chicken tajine ever at a little restuarant in the city's market. My friends and I ate on the terrace wo we could see the Rif Mountains in the background.
- Then we went back on the bus to travel six hours to the ferry. The ferry from Tangier and Tarifa made Michael and I nauseous, but our new Spanish and Swedish friends thought it was hilarious. Of course, we didn't, but I took the time to enjoy their company for the last time.
- We took a bus from the ferry to Sevilla and landed in Sevilla's center at 11:00 p.m. on the dot. And I was already pining for another trip to Morocco.

Granada! Granada! I love ya, Granada!

The entire "UNC in Sevilla" Study Abroad Program went to Granada, Spain, from Oct. 26, to Oct. 28. We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly - just think of 8th century palaces and houkah bars. Sometimes pictures tell the story best, so check them out below.

BubbleShare: Share photos - Thanksgivingtime!

Politics on the Job

I knew this day would come - the day in which I would have to walk the tight line between totally bashing my country and defending its actions. That day was Oct. 23, 2007. I went to La Casa de Ancianos, an elderly residence/convent, to learn about volunteer opportunities. During the informational interview with Cayetano, a director of volunteers, I learned that I would help serve lunch or dinner and just talk with the elderly women, who have little money and little family to tend to them. Then he wanted to know more about me and my country. I should have seen the red flag, but, nope, I didn't. I walked right into the dreadful conversation about Bush and the Iraq War, the hypocrisy within the U.S. government, gas-guzzlers and their negative effect on the environment. YIKES!

It's not that I don't know that the U.S. has its problems or that I'm unaware of how other country's view the red, white and blue, I just wasn't expecting to talk about it in that setting. Also, it's difficult to bash your country when you miss it. I identify with being an American (whatever that is) so much right now, because the phrase, "Soy americana," usually follows, "Hola. Me llamo Dioni." Plus, I never want to put forth the impression that my opinions are those of every U.S. citizen. So what's a girl to do? Well, I just slumped further in my chair as Cayetano shared all the opinions he has formed from his 26 years of earthly living. I finally said I had homework to do to get out the conversation. (It wasn't a lie.) Past study abroad students said they often found themselves in the same predicament, but somehow I had managed to avoid it. Now I'll take notice of the red flag before I crash and burn again.

Madrid...Enough Said.

DAY 1: Friday, Oct. 19

I headed out of Sevilla on the 8 a.m. Socibus. The drive took six hours, so thank God I slept the first three hours. On a good note, I only paid $25 for the trip. When I arrived I took the metro to our hotel, Best Western Premier Hotel in Santo Domingo. When I walked through the doors, my Aunt Dee-Dee and her friend Liz where waiting in the lobby with open arms. (Sidebar: Aunt De- Dee, the senior editor for multimedia at The Charlotte Observer, will give a presentation to European journalists on how the news industry in the U.S. is trying to identify and best serve its online readers.) Given that it was 3 p.m., our first mission was to eat lunch. So we headed out into a busy Puerta del Sol, full of tourists, shoppers and diners. To see the diversity of people and hear the variety in language was amazing. I think it's much more prominent in Madrid then Sevilla.

At lunch, I officially became the translator for the weekend. Liz, whose parents are Ecuadorian, spoke a little Spanish, but gave the main Spanish-speaking to me. Aunt Dee-Dee and Liz enjoyed their first plate of paella (the rice, meat and seafood dish) and croquetas (small often rounded masses consisting usually of minced meat, fish, or vegetable coated with egg and bread crumbs and deep-fried, basically the Southerner's hush puppies). We also shared a pitcher of sangria (iced punch made of red wine, fruit juice, and soda water; named after blood o sangre for it's rich red color). For desert, we hit up Chocolatería San Gines for churros and warm chocolate sauce.

After gaining about five pounds from lunch, we walked through the various shops and passed the opera house, the Royal Theater (Teatro Real) to the Royal Palace (Palacio Real) and its statue-filled Plaza de Oriente. This area is obviously a tourist attraction, so we were among the many who took pictures in front of the statues of former royalty and government officials. It's simply grand, the palace. King Juan Carlos I and his wife, Queen Sofía, don't live in the palace, but they host formal gatherings there. We entered the court that connects the Palace and Cathedral of Almudena and peered through the gates, marking the schedule to memory so we could tour them on Saturday.

DAY 2: Saturday, Oct. 20

Our first stop: La Plaza Mayor, the central, grand square that currently houses popular restaurants and the tourist office, was once the stage of royal coronations, mass killings and bullfights. Over breakfast, we tried to figure out if the 39 €-Madrid Card was worth it. We figured it was. The card offers free access to almost 40 museums, short waits in lines, discounts, unlimited rides (for one day) on the Madrid Vision tour bus, etc. That tour bus was hot! It a double-decker that allowed you to give off and on wherever and whenever you wanted. We toured the the palace first. I wish I could show you pictures of the ornate grandeur of it all, but picture-taking wasn't allowed. It's beautiful, of course. Every room had it's own decor and own purpose, like King Carlos III smoked in here and wrote letters in there. That's the kind of extravagance I'm talking about! I've never seen such a great amount of gold in my life. The tour was long and tiring, so we ate afterwards at a place designated in our Madrid Card. We thought we would get a 15% discount, but no. It was alright, though. As we ate, we looked at the Shiatsu masseures and masseuses messaging the heck out of people's heads and feet. So we partook in the action too. The messages were great. Just what we needed to prepare us for more exploration.

We headed back on the tour bus and looked over so much - the Paseo del Prado (the stretch in which you'll find the most important art museums), the shops (Gucci!) in modern Spain, the skyscrapers, Plaza del Colón (dedicated to Christopher Colombus) and Santiago Bernabéu Stadium (the home of Real Madrid, the world-famous soccer club and David Beckham's former team). (Sidebar: I wish I had time to tour the stadium, but maybe another time.) That night we hit La Gran Vía, literally the "Great Way," to eat dinner. La Gran Vía is the Broadway of Spain. It houses many theatres, to which people were headed to see the Spanish versions of "Jesus Chirst Superstar and Beauty and the Beast. Aunt Dee-Dee didn't enjoy the hustle and bustle, but I found it all exciting. We ended the night eating burgers, drinking sangria and surfing the net at Zahara. Everyone in Spain nor every hotel in Spain has Internet access. Therefore, we had to access the Internet and long-distance calls at Internet cafes called Internetías. Zahara happened to have one below its dining area and bar. My friends - Dianna, Abby and Laura - sent me a video of them at the homecoming game at Kinston High School. (We lost, of course.) Anyhoo, they sent greetings from home and had me laughing in this public Internet cafe in Madrid. I love technology! (Sidebar: It was cold in Madrid. I'm definitely going to look up the weather before traveling again.)

DAY 3: Sunday, Oct. 21

We finally made it to the Reina Sofía National Museum and Art Center on Sunday morning. Wowza! ¡Qué guay! The museum housed more contemporary art of the 20th century and of today's artists. I was most excited about seeing the work of Salvador Dalí and Pablo Picasso, and I was not disappointed. And "Guernica" does exist! I've seen it! (Sidebar: I stole that tagline from a postcard.) You could easily spend more than four hours in the museum. We only could muster two.

Dalí - "El Gran Masturbador"


Picasso - "Guernica"

We were pooped after the Reina Sofía tour, so we ate the bomb ham and cheese sandwiches at El brillante. Spanish or Iberian ham is on another level of great taste. Anyhoo, we then headed to the Prado. There we saw a vast amount of paintings from several centuries. Some notable painters were "El Greco," Diego Velázquez, Francisco de Goya and Rembrandt. The paintings were usually of the same themes - royalty, Virgen Mary, the Cruxificion. I didn't like it as much as Reina Sofia, but I can now say that I've seen the famous Prado Musuem. The other visitors gave me something to look at too. We represented so many different countries and cultures, so I looked and listened to how people commented on the paintings in Dutch, Britiish English, Italian, etc. That was an experience within itself. After the two-hour tour, we had to go back to the hotel so I could retrieve my bags and head to Atocha to catch a train.

On the Metro from the Prado to the hotel to get my bags, Liz's wallet was stolen from her purse. Some gypsies pushed her into the car and got on either side of her. Liz said it was her fault because her purse was wide open. Hopefully, everything will turn out fine. But we all learned a good lesson: be careful and be aware of your belongings and who's watching them.

¡Baila! ¡Salsa!

I've been taking salsa classes for the past month and I am having too much fun. Tonight's class capped another great day. I literally yelped in class because I was finally getting the steps down with my partner. Three of my classmates also are taking the course - Katie, Sean and William. Katie's excellent, even for a Dukie (I'm joking.) She's a natural on the dance floor. And Sean picks things up so quickly. Will, or Guillermo as we call him in Spanish, always has the hugest grin on his face. Not only are we enjoying cuttin' a rug, but we're dancing with Spaniards and conversing with them. We try our Spanish skills on them, they try their English on us. It's a good deal. And our dance instructor, David, is so funny. Katie wants to stick him in her pocket and take him back to the States. Picture: Sean and Katie before a night of salsa dancing.

Earlier in the day, I took advantage of the lovely weather and strolled through parts of the city I hadn't seen before. And since admittance is free on Tuesdays to the Torre de Oro (Golden Tower), I decided to check it out. The tower is an 8th-century, Moorish tower built on the banks of the Guadalquivir River to protect the city against Christian attacks. The tower's not as grand as you think it should be, but it does the job. From the terrace, you can see for miles and miles. The wind blowing in your face and the wonderful view makes you appreciate living on God's vast earth. The inside of the tower is cool. The interior has been turned into a nautical museum, so it houses naval uniforms, boat replicas and other memorabilia of the sort.



My day of exploration wasn't over. The Modern Spain class took a trip to the Andalucían Parliament building, thanks to our wonderful teacher, Rafa. The Parliament resides here in Sevilla, the capital of Andalucía. (Sidebar: Andalucía is one of 17 autonomous communities that make up Spain.) Our guide, Bernardo, taught us about the former hospital around which the Parliament was built, the political composition of the 100+ representatives and so on. My classmates, teacher and I sat in the grand hall, where meetings take place. The room formerly was a Catholic church, so there are small chapels on the sidewalls and a large painting of saints on the wall behind the president's chair. (Sidebar: They cover that painting during sessions to stay within the separation of church and state.) Of course, I took the opportunity to check out what one of the representatives hides in his desk - there was nothing but writing utensils, of course. Then we all took pictures at the podium. What geeks! But we had a great time learning about policymaking, nonetheless.

From left to right: Me, Jill, Kareemah, Shairy and Sean pretending to be important.

Nearly the whole gang. My teacher, Rafael, is the man in the bottom right hand corner.

And this Friday, I'll be visiting my Aunt Dee Dee and her friend, Liz, in Madrid. Woo hoo!

(Sidebar: I'd like to give a shout out to my brother, Dajonte, who received his license today. to everybody in Kinston: Watch out for a gold Toyota Corolla.)

It's All Coming Together.

Last week, I was a wreck. I wanted to rebel against all things Spanish. I actually cried the bathroom of the university because I couldn't understand my literature professor and I couldn't find the correct library from which to check out books. Study abroad advisers warned us students that the rose-colored glasses would fall to the ground and shatter after awhile, leaving us with a period of backlash.

Then, they said, everything would be okay again. And this week, I am very glad to say that things have improved. Instead of rebelling, I've decided to accept and appreciate the differences between my new and old worlds. During this past weekend, I walked nearly all of Sevilla with my friend Sean. I began to appreciate the little parks nestled in between different neighborhoods, the people who almost hit you with their bikes and the narrow alleyways that lead you through a maze of apartment buildings and ice cream shops. Things are starting to click. The streets and sites are becoming familiar. I'm speaking and responding quicker. Spain is no longer a foreign place to me now -- it's home. To immerse myself further in the culture, I've joined a salsa class and I'm going to volunteer as a liaison between homeless people and agencies that can help them. And, of course, I'll continue to learn about the tasty Spanish food. My señora is calling me to dinner as I type. (Sigh.) I love Spain.