feeling torn between two amazing things

The last three weeks of studying abroad have been one of the most fragile times for me. The feeling of bitter sweetness has been sauntering in my head. While I have fallen in love with my life abroad and people along the way, I can’t help but to long for my new life that is waiting for me at home. I say that I have been fragile lately because all it takes is not being able to find a shoe to make me want to go home. Perhaps my fragility has something to do with the fact that this is also the happiest I have been since I have been abroad. With my time here coming to an end it hasn’t taken any effort to enjoy all aspects of the time that I have left here. I want to make the most of my last few days, I want to leave a positive impression on those that I came with and the one I have met along the way. At the same time, I have so much in store for me when I get home that it’s hard not to want to jump start my summer in America. Talking so frequently to my family and friends at home has not made my wildly racing thoughts any more at ease but I’m glad that I have something to look forward to. It’s hard so want two things so much at the same time.

Gypsy Girl

With innocent eyes she approached playing an accordion. She put her hand out begging for money, it was hard to say no. She was dressed in all pink, her clothes were both dirty and hand-me-downs. Her ponytail was high; it started at the top of her head and went all the way down to her lower back. When she smiled her front tooth was chipped at the half way mark, which was hard to look at.

She played an unfamiliar tune but it was beautiful nonetheless. The owner of a near by restaurant came out he shooed her away as to not “scare off business”. But, who could be scared of such an innocent creature? One who knew nothing better but to go around begging for money all alone? It was clear that her parents had told her what she needed to do that day, to go out and gather money for the family. How could she deal with the rejection of so many people? How could she walk around approaching people eating lavish lunches being so gluttonous when she would die for only a piece of bread? After watching this charade play out for several minutes another accordion playing little girl came over to have a conversation with her. These children flooded the tourist traps hoping for at least some generosity of the people lucky enough to travel to their beautiful city. This scene as a whole was hard to look at.

Dow Jones

In Barcelona we went to the coolest bar ever called the Dow Jones. Naturally, the bar was set up with the theme of the Wall Street stock market. Upon walking into the bar you see little plasma televisions equally spaced all around the bar area. On every other screen there was a soccer game playing and on the others there was an extensive list of wild drinks with a list of prices next to them. The prices were listed in green, red and blue. If the price was in green that meant that someone had just brought the drink and the price was about to go up. Once one drink goes up it causes another drink to go down so those drinks were listed in red. This game can become extremely fun with the more people that are at the bar.  As you can imagine it can also be really frustrating as your trying to push your way to the front of the bar to get your favorite drink that was recently lowered but by the time you get to the bar and get the bartenders attention the drink you were going to order skyrockets 4 dollars. Overall everyone in our group had an amazing time at the Dow Jones, many people got to experiment with their taste-buds and others like me were finally able to indulge in our most favorite American mixed drinks (such as the Bloody Mary, which was made to perfection).

Bitter Sweet

The last three weeks of studying abroad have been one of the most fragile times for me. The bitter sweet feeling has been sauntering in my head. While I have fallen in love with my life abroad and someone along the way, I can’t help but to long for my new life that is waiting for me at home. I say that I have been fragile lately because all it takes is not being able to find a shoe to make me want to go home. Perhaps my fragility has something to do with the fact that this is also the happiest I have been since I have been abroad. With my time here coming to an end it hasn’t taken any effort to enjoy all aspects of the time that I have left here. I want to make the most of my last few days, I want to leave a positive impression on those that I came with and the one I have met along the way. At the same time, I have so much in store for me when I get home that it’s hard not to want to jump start my summer in America. Talking so frequently to my family and friends at home has not made my wildly racing thoughts any more at ease but I’m glad that I have something to look forward to. It’s hard so want two things so much at the same time.

The Butter's

Meeting new people is one of the best parts of traveling. While the ecstatic feelings of the nomadic life will fade, new friendships have the potential to last forever.

Sitting on the top deck of our cruise ship I heard the faint whispers of the table over from us speaking in English. After gawking at the family’s bloody mary’s for five minutes I decided to make the first move and ask where they were from. They were the Butter’s, a family of four with a 16-year-old daughter and a 14-year-old son. After hours of getting to know each other on what seamed to be a cruise ship driving through a tsunami the four of us girls fell in love with “the fam”. By the end of our three-island cruise, we weren’t bonded with any specific member of the fam, rather the entire family as a whole. The way they spoke to one another and the stories they told made it easy for all four of us to relate to with our families at home and inevitably fall in love with them. After the cruise the fam was our number one topic of conversation. They were all just so nice. Two days later while we were eating a meal they ran into us and invited us to their rooftop pool. Naturally, we went as soon as we were done eating. There we enjoyed banana strawberry daiquiris and margaritas. After some time all of you tummies were rumbling so the Butter’s asked us if we wanted to join them for an all American dinner at the Hard Rock Café. Once again naturally we accepted the invitation. After stuffing our faces so much that we could barley move we went back to the roof top pool at the Marriot where we watched the 12am Easter fireworks go off all over Athens. It was simply beautiful.

No, but seriously, who let the dogs out?

Dead stray dogs live ALL OVER Athens, it’s insane. On our way to the cruise shuttle at six in the morning, the four of us girls went to a pastry store and got stuffed bagels. Once we reached the corner of the main street a stray was high tailing us as we were in a rush to make the shuttle in time. When we came to a coffee shop he must have alerted his fellow dog friend of the plan to follow us all morning because by this time there were two dogs following us close behind. If you can image, six minutes into our walk, we’re headed down a vacant main street with nine dogs following closely behind. At first we were under the impression that they wanted our delectable treats. Shockingly our dog comrades didn’t try any crazy tricks; it was made clear when we saw our first stranger that all the dogs were under the same mission, to protect us. As a man approached us in the opposite direction all of the dogs ran over to him and began barking belligerently at him where the man began whimpering and covering his head like they were going to attack him, which of course wouldn’t have been a surprise. This act of them following us and barking at strangers went on for the entire fifteen minute walk, all the while losing and acquiring new dogs to the pact. By time we got to our destination all of the dogs had names. When we got to our meeting spot at a hotel we went inside where our dogs hung out outside the door, still waiting for us god forbid we needed some protection. When the woman who lead our cruise group arrived we headed out to follow her, this is when the dogs began following us once again. Two stops into the bus ride Tori looks out the window where she sees our dog pals still following us. These were our first friends made in Greece. 

FIRE ON THE HOME FRONT

Waking up out of a perfectly blissful REM cycle, I could have sworn I heard the elevator shaft in my building collapsing with huge metal “bangs”. When the noises continued my feeling of being annoyed quickly turned to utter fear after I began to smell burnt plastic. I whispered “Paigeeee!! PAIGEEE, wake up”! She rolled over, “what’s that smell?” she said. I was in complete shock of Paige’s rock like sleep; how could she not wake up to all the noise? All of a sudden the hallway light flicked on and Miguel came out of his room dressed in daytime clothes. He shut the door. “WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON!” I honestly thought Miguel was trying to kill us or something, lock us in the room for dead. As the smell was becoming more and more potent by the minute so was my worrying instinct. Paige and I crept out of the door into the hall way were saw Pepita sitting at the edge of her bed trying to wake herself up. “Vamose?” I asked as I wondered why everyone was being so relaxed about the burning smell and the loud noises. Paige and I went back into the room where I told her “Put some clothes on! We’re getting out of here.” By the time we re-entered the hallway thick black smoke FILLED the apartment and we were flabbergasted to see Pepita bent over in the hallway outside of the bathroom hocking up a lung with her PJ pants around her ankles and her booty in the air. It wasn’t long before the burnt plastic smoke infested our lungs. Paige and I tried to hurry Pepita out of the house. Miguel was nowhere to be found. He left us to die. I ran to the door and peeped through the peephole, I didn’t see any smoke so I felt the door with the back of my hand. The coast was clear. As Paige and I ran out of the house the phone rang and Pepita answered it in the midst of us all having temporary lung failure. Paige and I decided to save our selves so we jetted. Out side there was an Asian man passed out on the curb in front of the market below our apartment. Posted up on a curb down the road, Paige and I heard sirens roaring down the street and that is when desert arrived. In Spain there must be some sort of requirement that if you want to be a cop you must be a former model because they are all SO attractive. In Spanish the word for “fireman” is “bombero”, therefore, when the firemen began flooding the street I thought it was the bomb squad. I quickly learned this was not the case. After about two hours of watching smoke barrel into our apartment and the bombero’s trying to put the fire out Pepita and Miguel brought us to their daughter Marise’s house which was conveniently across the street.  Needless to say our clothes wreaked like burnt plastic for weeks, our house had to be professionally cleaned and repainted. This experience brought Paige and I so much closer to our host parents in the last four weeks of our home stay. While it was a chaotic experience in the end it made for a much more happy family. 

Holy Toledo!

Saturday March 19, 2011 I woke up roughly around 7.00, rubbed the morning gewies out of my eyes, whipped my nighttime blinds opened and jumped out of bed. I washed my face, put my leggings, a t-shirt and my easytones on (I knew I was in for some prime time up easytone action). Once we got to the bus I sunk into my seat and immediately fell asleep. I was pleasantly awakened by the breaks of the bus to see one of the most beautiful sights I have seen while being abroad. HOLEY TOLEDO. Houses, mosques, churches, cathedrals, and temples stacked with the most beautiful architecture. I had arrived at the spiritual capital of Spain. Toledo is surrounded on three sides by the Tagus River and meters upon meters of tall walls. The bus parked and we hiked into Toledo via one of the only entrances.

View of Toledo from where the bus stopped

Toledo's entrance 

After seeing a bunch of sights that were really interesting, however not at the top of my list, we finally made it to Toledo’s Cathedral which was insane! Seeing it from the outside I was in awe. Apparently the Moors of Toledo wanted to savor the beauty within rather than displaying it on the surface; this was not evident when staring up at this massive hunk of exquisiteness. Going inside the cathedral was in experience in and of itself. I stuck by teach in order to absorb any tid-bit of information that I could. Unfortunately the only relevant information that he could share was the height and width of the cathedral. So, I joined in on another English tour in which I learned tons of interesting facts.

THE CATHEDRAL

Choir Benches

While I think it is important to learn about the places in which I visit I think its most important to observe and take in the details in order to have an everlasting mental image. Staring all around and up at the cathedral only made me think about and picture ancient men painting, sculpting and building it, and how long it must have taken (from 1226 to 1493). Starring at a pillar with an angel coming out of it, I pictured the pillar in its entirety. A giant, white, cylinder shaped hunk of granite, which had to be -at least- wide enough to the tip of the angel baby’s nose. Then I had to imagine that someone sat there pricking away at this granite piece of perfection for days. I thought how long that must have taken, and then I had to imagine that that was one extremely small, minute detail of such a gigantic place.

The Choir

Capilla Mayor

Walking through the cathedral, into the various different rooms, I pictured people from the 1300’s walking around and going about their daily business. A priest sat at the podium giving a sermon while men, women and children sat in the audience listening ‘religiously’, draped in different fabrics for clothing. The chorus stood behind the audience singing psalms, horns blowing. In the dressing room I saw the priests, and other holey men hoisting their heavy suits on with their pointy caps, heavy jewelry, and walking canes. These images didn’t stop until the moment we left the cathedral, and as I sit here writing this I can see the men and women all over again as I go through a mental tour of Toledo’s religious palace.

                      The back of the cathedral                                 Gilded Altarpiece 

Hampsterdam

After arriving to the country of my dreams I took a deep breath of the Amsterdonian air and was pleasantly overcome by the aroma of culture. Smiling from ear to ear me and my traveling companion, best friend and roommate Paige headed to a souvenir shop where I purchased a map which inevitably became my life for the following four days.  Heading toward Prins Hendrikade we realized that we weren’t headed to Prins Hendrikade. We stopped a jolly looking Amsterdonian who took it upon himself to walk us all 500 feet from the train station to our hostel. This was our first taste of the generosity and chivalry most all Amsterdonians conduct themselves with. When we arrived to “Hostel Croydon” the alleged “shit box”, we were surprised that it wasn’t in fact a shit box at all. After receiving our bed and locker numbers, we headed to our quarters where we were greeted by three sets of stairs that walking up was as if we were rock climbing. This becomes a problem later in the story…

 Headed into the depths of the red light district, where we conveniently resided, we wandered into a coffee shop called Hunters where we met our new pal Isseh, more commonly known by me as Ishmael. Ishmael tore up my brand new map with circles and arrows informing us of all the phenomenal things Amsterdam had to offer two curious girls ready to explore. We took his first and most appealing advice to go on a tour of the canal. Something I did not know before descending into Amsterdam is that it is surrounded by water, and consists of a plethora of canals that lead to the ocean. This boat tour was the first of several phenomenal stories. While learning a colossal amount of information about the city Paige and I were in ecstasy, absorbing the atmosphere, the water, sun, sights and beauty that surrounds all of Amsterdam. At the moment we reached the ocean I found myself feeling more thankful than ever that I was privileged enough to be with such a great friend, on a boat, in the ocean, in Europe, how many people can say that for themselves at age nineteen? At this point I was being amazed by a gigantic sailboat and the stunning architecture of “Nemo”, this feeling of bliss was soon to disappear into a feeling of laughter and awkwardness. Suddenly our captain jumps up out of his seat marches to the back of the boat and starts SHOUTING at this man whose buttcheek was hanging into the isle. After one warning that the man was blocking the rearview mirror the captain deemed it appropriate to banish him and his group members from the boat! So, he grabs the man and starts screaming at him in shattered English. Unable to understand a word the captain was saying the man was left extremely confused and flustered at the captain’s rash and sudden behavior. This man and his group of five were abandoned approximately thirty-forty minutes away from the docking area.

The second day Paige and I met up with the 10 other Loyola kids that were meeting us there. Together we headed to the Heineken museum where we were all come by a strong sense of brand loyalty. After some of our “friends” got into the museum with a discount coupon the vendor who was handed out tickets didn’t see this as fair so he hooked me Paige and Marissa up with a bunch of extra wristbands that accounted for two beers each. Needless to say this left the tree of us feeling extremely loopy. By the end of the tour no one wanted to wait for us to finish our complimentary brews so we were left behind like usual, but this was no problem. After being left at the museum the three of us saw this as a great networking experience. We put our game faces on and introduced our selves to all the cute local Amsterdonians that worked at the museum. One of the workers named Jesse told us he was going to a local hot spot called ‘Bitter Sweets’ and that we should meet him there later. After almost a full nights work of bar hopping Paige and I headed over to Bitter Sweets which was only 5 min from our hostel on the way we met these two young lads named Taz and Koen who showed us the way to the bar. When we got there the line was around the corner so the charming young fellows shoed us the way to another Amsterdonian bar called NOL.. or noel. Here we were ambushed by a bunch of Amazonian’s who couldn’t speak English. It was great. 

The third day was the most moving day of them all when we went to the Anne Frank museum. I would highly recommend this museum to anyone that goes to Amsterdam. While the line appeared to be very long me and three other group members only waited for 20 minutes and everyone else chickened out which was a big mistake. The house was surprisingly big, a seemingly good perk for a family who feared for their lives on a daily basis. At the end of the museum they showed a film of Otto Frank doing an interview. He spoke about how he obtained the diary and how when Anne was little she made her father promise never to read it. While he felt he was going against her wishes, it was something he had to do in order to feel close to his daughter again. He said one thing that I’ll never forget, that no parents ever REALLY know their children. No matter how close you are to your kids they have deep and complex thoughts that no one could ever have fathomed they would have. 

All in all I LOVED Amsterdam; the people, the food, the transportation system, the museums, EVERYTHING.