Working abroad

My final video! This one explains the "professional" aspect of my semester in Granada as well as the benefits of studying abroad in general. Enjoy!

Videography, número dos

This video is about my time in Spain, specifically about my life in Granada where I took classes and lived with a host family.

EuroBlitz video!

After months of progress, mishaps, and maybe a little procrastination, I've finally finished compiling, organizing, narrating, and editing the video documenting my spring break adventure. For some reason, though, it won't upload to Blogger, so I've put it on Vimeo instead. You can check it out here!

Home again

I made it home safely after what turned out to be the smoothest traveling experience I’ve ever had, complete with luggage that barely met the weight requirements and a duty-free bottle of Spanish wine that will be enjoyed soon enough!

Transitioning home has been much easier than I imagined, and just like my first few weeks in Spain, I haven’t been victimized by any culture shock just yet. It’s helped that I’ve kept myself busy with a summer classes, unpacking, watching the French Open and staying as active as possible. I haven’t spent a summer at home since high school, so it’s kind of nice being around my family again for what may be the last extended period of time before graduating in May and hurling myself into post-undergrad life. 

There are things about my time in Europe that I miss terribly, but my life here in America is so different that I’m finding it easy not to lose myself in comparing Granada to Conyers. Any comparison would hardly make sense, actually. The past six months have gone by faster than I can comprehend. It’s especially crazy how it seems like so little here at home has changed since I left, and maybe that’s why I’ve been able to seamlessly slip back into the American lifestyle that I put on hold to enjoy a semester of breathless, intoxicatingly refreshing European adventuring. 

I have loads to keep me occupied this summer, and countless photos and memories from the semester to cherish, and since I’m practically planning my future around a return to Spain, I’m convincing myself there’s no reason to be sad about having to leave. But it’s really impossible not to miss sunny afternoons in Parque Garcia Lorca, nights of delicious Moroccan or Japanese tapas, all the new people I met and friends I made, or just the constant, unavoidable learning of Spanish.

In the meantime, I’ll be working on piecing together the videos and photos I took throughout the semester. It’ll be nice to be visually reminded of all the sights and sounds I experienced all over Europe, and hopefully I’ll have a decent “videography” to share soon.

Time to say goodbye

Leaving for Madrid by bus tonight...!

Will be back in the States by 4 p.m. tomorrow.

It's been such a wonderful five months, and I can't believe it's time to go home already. I know I'm going to miss Granada and all the people I've met, but I'm very excited about seeing my family again and trying to bring a little Spain back to the U.S.!

Flamenco in Granada

For the last official meeting of my study abroad program, we were all invited to attend a Flamenco show in the Sacromonte's caves for a bit of authentic (if touristy) dancing. Several dances were performed, but this woman was especially impressive with her fast footwork. After watching a couple of Flamenco shows in Spain, I've decided there's pretty much no way I could ever learn to dance like this.

Dancing in Barça

This video is from March, but I rediscovered it this morning and remembered how interesting it is. A group performed this dance with sticks outside the Sagrada Familia amid a humans rights organizations fair. I don’t know what kind of dance it is nor if it means anything, but it was fun to watch them in perfect syncretic motion beat their wooden sticks to the tune of a man’s flute music!

Leaving too soon

I’m an expert multitasker. Reviewing Baroque literature while enjoying the sun was never easier. 

In five short days I will be eating lunch in a different country, something probably a little more familiar than “albóndigas con tomate frito y verduras” on my plate. I’ve been trying to wrap up the last few days here in Granada will all things Spanish, visiting my favorite buildings, walking the streets, hanging out with friends and retasting all of the city’s best tapas. Recently, though, I’ve been more occupied with finishing school than anything else. But since I had my last exam this morning, the next couple days are going to be completely devoted to reminding myself why I love Granada so much and how I could never say goodbye for good. 

That and packing, of course.

Summer in the city

It’s for sure summer in Granada, no matter what the calendar says. Everything is green and blooming by now, and being outside for more than five minutes will leave you in dire need of an ice cream or Sangria break. It’s definitely tourist season, too, and even though the main streets are extra crowded now, all of the people bring a new buzz of excitement to the city and remind me how special and unique Granada is.

Last Friday I went to Alfacar, a neighboring rural pueblo known for two things: its ties to the Spanish Civil War and its delicious freshly prepared bread. I made sure I fit in a little of each in my trip, first going on a short hike to a wooded area where thousands of people were assassinated in the 1930s by nationalist militia. For years afterward, no one in the town alerted officials that countless bodies had been piled on top of one another and haphazardly buried throughout the hills. Finally, the government excavated the sites and designated much of the area as a cemetery and memorial ground. 

Because the famous Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca was killed in Alfacar for his support of the Popular Front, people leave transcripts of Lorca’s poems attached to trees and makeshift crosses. 

No one knows exactly where Lorca was shot nor what happened to his body, but some suspect he was assassinated near this olive tree in 1937.

Of course, I couldn’t leave without deciding for myself if the Alfacar bread was as good as it was supposed to be. We found a small panaderia and met Pepe, the 86-year-old owner who told us how he’d been in the bread making business all his life, taking after his father and grandfather. He was a very friendly, feisty old man, and clearly so happy to see a group of young people interested in his bread. I was talking to him about his life as a bread maker when he saw my camera and asked to take a picture with me! He was so concerned about taking a good photo that he had to clean his glasses quite well before my friend could take a couple shots and being reassured by me that they looked fine. Pepe’s bread did not disappoint either. We tried his chocolate-filled pastry which was delicious, the perfect balance of sweet and salty and baked to just the right crispiness. 

Pepe and me at his panaderia in Alfacar

Saturday afternoon, a couple of friends and I checked out an art and music exhibition at the Facultad de Ciencias at the main University of Granada. There were people making pottery, spray-painting graffiti, deejaying, dancing, making crafts, cooking food and two floors where all kinds of organization booths had been set up. A lot of the organizations were sponsored by the Juventud de Granada, the city’s pro-active youth, and it was interesting to see what the young people here take seriously enough to advocate in some other way besides a street-clogging protest. People advocating feminism, communism, techno music, Oriental culture, environmental sustainability, and organic farming shared the space with people petitioning against domestic violence, a breakdance demonstration, handmade jewelry vendors and kids making good luck charms out of yarn. It was noisy and busy and lots of fun. 

 Communism supporting is alive and well among Granada youth.

After hearing about it from several friends, I finally made it to the Sunday morning outdoor market. It’s known unofficially as the “gypsy market” and offers everything imaginable from fruits and vegetables to jewelry and sunglasses. It’s located out past the Granada’s main bus station, a very far walk made even longer when you don’t exactly know where you’re going. Luckily I had brought along some water to keep myself hydrated in the 80-degree heat. When I finally found it after asking someone for directions, I was surprised to see the market stretched along two parallel streets for what musr have been almost quarter of a mile. Although there were several booths selling the same shoes or clothes, they all had their own special prices and I couldn’t help not perusing through almost every one. I ended up buying some jewelry and a shirt, and I’m actually planning on going back next Sunday to see what other deals I can find.

Even though it’s only Tuesday, my last full week in Granada has been as enjoyable as ever. There are still a couple things I want to do before leaving, and I definitely want to walk to all the main sites one more time. It’s exam time, too, which is highly unfortunate, but after this Thursday I’ll only have one more and then I’ll be school-free in Granada once again.  I really need to study a lot for all three (especially since exams make up almost 100% of our grades!), but I’m thinking I can do that after tapas tonight. Or maybe I’ll just wait until tomorrow… :)

Vamos a la playa

I’ve hiked, snowboarded, and danced my way around Granada, taken trains, busses, subways and the occasional taxi, visited the Eiffel Tower, Galileo’s tomb and the Porta Nigra all in one week, tasted countless new foods, spoken English, Spanish, Italian -- and maybe a word or two of French and German -- and met people from all over the world during these last five wonderful months. Even with so much packed into my time here, it would have been ridiculous to have done all these things and traveled all this way and not make it to a Mediterranean beach!

Taking full advantage of the summer weather, eight friends and I booked a hostel for one night in Nerja, a town on La Costa del Sol a couple hours south of Granada. We spent the morning and afternoon relaxing and chatting on the beach, and after exploring the town a little, we returned to our hostel to cook copious amounts of the most delicious Mexican food. In addition to tacos, guacamole and salsas, we made American cookie dough and our own version of Spain’s tinto de verano drink. After months of not having access to kitchens of our own, we all went a little crazy being able to cook whatever we wanted. In the morning, we fixed pancakes with strawberries and chocolate sauce, and had enough Mexican leftovers to make perfect snacks to have on the beach.

Nerja turned out to be a perfect beach town, not too touristy nor too much of a city like Malaga. The beach itself was rocky and beautiful, uneven and encircled by large green hills, and even though the water was icy cold, we weren’t going to let a little uncomfortable chilliness keep us from enjoying it. 

Even though I didn’t really need a break from Granada, getting away for a while for a change of pace and scenery was appreciated more than expected. As much as I love going to the mountains, I’ve found that a weekend relaxing at the beach can be just as peaceful and refreshing.

Otra vez

As alluded to in my last post, I wasn't going to stay away from Monachil for long. I couldn’t help but return to the little mountain oasis this morning -- even though the bus fare went up .05€! -- to explore the other, more legitimately marked side of the river. 

After an attempt to navigate my own short cut (through farmland that was certainly not mine), I hopped a fence and found myself at the entrance to the Parque Natural. Finally something legitimate! I followed the trail to Los Cahorros, a valley surrounded by steep rocky cliffs, and passed countless little meadows and craggy outcrops whose storybook-like charm could only have been perfected by a frolicking herd of goats.

This side of Monachil was even more impressive and lusciously green than what I had seen before. Swinging bridges crossed gaps where the endlessly winding dirt trail was interrupted by streams. The weather was perfect, and I could have kept hiking for hours if my señora wasn't expecting me home for lunch. 

The town itself is lazy and quiet, populated by grumbling old men shuffling their way to the park and old women whose only concern in the world is cleaning their front stoop. Even the cars seem to move in slow motion. When I arrived a little before 11:00 this morning, only a small fruit stand had opened for business, and I noticed the town’s post office was nothing more than a one room operation where a man was methodically organizing a pile of letters onto a large wooden table. 

I can say without much hesitation now that Monachil is my favorite place in Spain. I know that’s a bold statement, but there’s just something so enticingly peaceful and reassuring about being surrounded by rocks and mountains and hills and feeling like I have it all to myself.

Chilling in Monachil

Yesterday morning after my 8:30 literature class, I paid 1.05€ for a bus ticket to the little pueblo of Monachil at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains. The town is rustic and beautiful, impeccably clean, with traditional Spanish-style houses and their perfectly manicured yards lining the roads.

A small river runs through the town, a collection of countless streams and creeks that flow down from the surrounding hills. The river is guarded by willow trees lethargically dangling their leafy tears over the water, and a sidewalk guides hikers to several trail options, although the lack of markings is a good excuse for making your own path to wherever you want.

It was a gorgeous day for being outside. I didn’t have much of a plan before I went, just the desire to stretch my legs and find a place to relax, so I decided to forgo the typical Monachil route that leads to a rocky gorge and overhanging bridge and instead let my feet take me to the top of a uniquely green hill.

On the way, I passed a goat farm along the road before taking a narrow, rocky path through radiantly green meadows, gardens exploding with leafy vegetables, a small vineyard, and over the occasional crudely constructed bridge. I felt refreshingly solitary hiking alone; only once did I see anyone else -- a farmer and his horse -- and the nonexistence of signs (or trails for that matter) seemed to invite me to explore anywhere I wanted. At one point as I was trudging through a field of thickly tangled violets, I wondered who owns all this land, with its partially cultivated hillsides and ramshackle lean-tos and breathtaking views of Spain’s countryside. I suppose I could have very easily been “trespassing,” but something tells me no one would have cared anyway.

After an hour or so of forging my own trail, I came across a small olive grove snugly situated in a shallow valley. The view of the distant mountains and the town below could have calmed the most high-strung of people, and I found the shade of an olive tree a perfect place for reading.

I had to venture back a little while later to catch the bus that would take me back to Granada in time for lunch. With Monachil only a half hour away from Granada, I definitely will be going back. It was such a happy way to pass a morning, and I would love to see more of the town and its stunning mountain views.

This hippie-communist bus was parked along the road. Strangely, it didn’t seem too out of place in Monachil.

Weekending like a Granadiña

Granada is the perfect place for someone who loves good food, sunny, grassy parks, late night fun, new people, afternoons at outdoor cafes, culture blending, and the challenge of a friendly language barrier. Basically, this city is perfect for someone like me. 

This past weekend I happily helped myself to all of those reasons I’m going to miss living here, and with barely more than three weeks left in the semester, I can easily justify the copious amounts of food and drink that were consumed!

Thursday night I had loads of fun experiencing Granada’s crazy night life at the discoteca Mae West. It’s one of the most well-known “clubs” in the city, and it’s especially unique since it’s decor is all from the United States. The walls are covered with movie posters and Hollywood paraphernalia, all featuring the actress Mae West or her very American contemporaries. It’s kind of amusing dancing to the latest Spanish pop-techno music while being surrounded by pictures of a 1900s movie star from New York.

It’s the norm in Spain to spend all night at a discoteca -- any day of the week -- and then dash home for a quick nap before starting another day of work or class. I don’t mind a late night every once in a while, but after four hours of dancing in a smoky room with music blaring, I’m ready for more than a quick nap.

As far as I’m concerned, the novelty of a three-day weekend will never fade beyond recognition. Last Friday my friend and I spent the afternoon lounging in the nearby park after picking up a couple of pastries from one of our favorite pastelerias. I opted for a sugar coated, flaky crusted dessert empanada that was filled with some sort of marmalade. I tried asking what kind of filling it had, but all I understood was that some sort of complicated fruit was involved. Looking back, I should have just stuck with the chocolate variety, but it’s hard to go wrong with anything from a Spanish bakery.

After some healthy window shopping that required navigating through the crowds of swarming tourists (now presumptuously spotted by us “semi-residents”), we stopped at an outdoor cafe in Plaza Nueva for a snack and some refreshing sangria. Along with savoring the delicious spinach empanada I ordered, I really enjoyed the simplicity of sitting outside in the warm sunshine chatting and people watching, sipping sangria and taking in a unique view of one of the Alhambra’s towers.

Next door to the cafe was one of Granada’s many Döner Kebab where the famous Turkish schwarma is sold, something I like to describe as the Middle East’s burrito. Wrapped in pita bread or something similar, these super filling wraps are filled with shaved meat of your choice, vegetables like carrots, tomatoes, beets, onions, and peppers, all mixed with a special, unidentifiable white sauce that reminds me of sour cream’s younger and far more desirable cousin. My friend ordered the steak schwarma, which was unfortunately slathered with far too much ketchup(!?) to be entirely edible. (I feel it is necessary to point out that ketchup does not belong on schwarma.) Despite the disappointing food choice, we had a pleasant conversation with our friendly multiligual waiter who was from Asia's side of Turkey. In addition to educating me about basic geography, we discussed Spanish meats, Granada’s population of Middle Easterners, business ventures of the Turks and Japanese, and a little bit of everything in between. Another reason to adore this city: meeting people with fascinating life stories who don’t mind carrying on a conversation in more than one language!

A fifteen minute walk lead us to a clever little tapas place, owned by an English woman my friend had met in a grocery store one day. The place was painted a deep blue, and inside jazz music drifted around lit candles and colorful pillows. There were several English speakers enjoying late afternoon tapas, many of whom were practicing their Spanish with a woman who happened to be one of my friend’s teachers. Seeing one of my professors from Clemson away from the confines of a classroom would have made for a potentially painfully awkward run-in, but in Spain, such an occurrence seems so natural, as if we could have easily pulled up a chair and joined in the conversation.

We had originally planned to stop by the cafe for a drink prepared with fresh strawberries (rare in Granada), but the bartender lacked fruit. Instead, he offered us a twist on the popular tinto de verano drink, normally a simple combination of red wine and a flavor of fruit soda, but this time served “blanco” and unmixed. We weren’t entirely sure what we agreed to drink, but it was appetizing and aesthetically pleasing, and was accompanied by a delectable Moroccan style tapas -- rice with vegetables in a slightly spicy curry sauce. In the meantime, an English patron had requested fish 'n chips, cooked fresh and served hot by the owner herself, reminding me of my lovely stay in London so many months ago.

On Saturday, while strolling through the city, I found myself walking among rows of book stands, selling every kind of book imaginable, from ancient Greek history text books to the latest fad diet cookbook. All were in Spanish, of course, and rather expensive, so I opted to browse and not buy anything. In one of the city’s main plazas, various organizations had set up information booths and artists meekly attempted to capture Granada on canvas. I stopped to listen to a peculiarly dressed man and women act out a story to a crowd of delighted children. El Día del Libro was Thursday, so I can only assume these festivities, and similar events throughout the week, were in honor of the “holiday.”

One of my favorite stands consisted of a large white poster board that posed the question “What are you fed up with?” Available markers invited passersby to visually express whatever frustration they may be dealing with. There were the predictable responses, “my school,” “the government,” “the police,” but my favorite had to be the poor soul who has had enough of the woman who “wears heels in the apartment above”!!

Saturday night involved more food, this time incorporating an East Asia flavor with tapas at a Chinese restaurant. This could easily become one of my favorite tapas places in Granada. We could choose from three varieties, but since my friend is a vegetarian, all three of us decided to go for the option “sin carne.” The heaping portion of noodles was delicious and a nice change from all the typical Spanish food I’d been eating.

Afterward, we went to Hicuri, a vegetarian friendly restaurant that serves the best tinto de verano I’ve ever tasted. They serve a medley of tapas, and we ended up trying dishes of rice and steamed vegetables and couscous, both of which were a perfect substitution for a traditional nighttime meal.

Lastly, a lazy rainy Sunday ended the weekend, with a couple hours stolen out of the evening to spend at Mae West once again. Inside the discoteca it’s impossible to tell if it’s noon or midnight, but Sundays tend to have a more relaxed atmosphere, and we appreciated squeezing in a little beat-infused exercise before dinner. 

I love that I’m still finding new things to see and do (and eat and drink) in Granada after being here for four months. I really don’t see how I could grow tired of a place that offers so much every day of the week. The lack of any more grand traveling plans had me a little disappointed after returning from such an amazing spring break. But now, I’m super excited about getting to spend more time getting to know Granada even better in these last few weeks before I leave.

La Alpujarra

From this past weekend: We hiked a full circle within the valley surrounded by these beautiful mountains of La Alpujarra.

Goats, fruits, rocks and trees

This weekend my study abroad program sponsored a trip to the nearby Alpujarras, a rural area of the surrounding Sierra Nevada mountains. Aside from the unfortunate realization that it would be our last group trip together, spending a couple days away from the Granada metropolis was most enjoyable. 

We visited the western part of the region, which technically belongs to Granada and is known as La Alpujarra. The eastern portion is within the province of Almería and is more correctly called Las Alpujarras. There are three small villages within the region, Pampaneira, Bubión and Capileira, clusters of white stone houses and churches punctuating the arid landscape. We stayed in a charmingly rustic hotel in Bubión, the middle town, and hiked to Capileira on Friday afternoon and then to Pampaniera on Saturday.

Every time I see the rural side of southern Spain, I like it more and more. La Alpujarra really is a beautiful part of the country, and so different from the mountainous areas of America’s Southeast. Fruit trees and abandoned shepherd outposts dot the hills, and remnants of ancient Roman pathways can be seen snaking toward the peaks. As we walked, our guide Fernando pointed out countless types of plants -- apple, orange, lemon, pear, persimmon, fig and kiwi trees, grape vines, several herbs, and other delightfully edible greens. I like the idea of these growing wild in the hills for anyone to enjoy, and I found it refreshing that our views were never obstructed by a forest of pines like I’m used to in America.

The weather turned out to be agreeable enough, and despite the clouds we were able to see the highest peak of the Sierra Nevada range as well as the horizon of the Mediterranean Sea. Being able to hike among the hills and at one point see both a snow capped mountain and blue ocean water was surreal and fantastic.

We stopped in Capileira on Friday for a brief break, and although the villages are small, we found a market where the freshest, reddest and most delicious strawberries were being sold. Interestingly, we noticed a lot of the locals had fair skin and light hair and eyes and looked unlike the stereotypical “moreno” Spaniard. Everyone spoke perfect Spanish, though, so it’s very likely the area was infiltrated by northern Europeans at some point in history. Later, we passed by a farmer and his goats and sheep on our way to picnic in a pasture overlooking a valley. I could easily have spent hours napping and relaxing in the green grass with a bag full of fruit nearby.

A selection of nuts at the market in Capileira

After hiking all morning (and afternoon) on Saturday, we ended our trip in Pampaniera, a pleasant little whitewashed village that refreshingly lacked Granada’s unavoidable crowds of people. Mint and dulce de leche ice cream sweetly finished off the day.

At one point, some of our group lost themselves in the twists and turns of the narrow village streets. We waited by an almond orchard while our guide went back to search for them.

If I had more time here in Spain, a trip back to La Alpujarra would be mandatory. Unfortunately, with only three more weekends in Granada before final exams, I don’t think I want to visit any place twice. I’m rather sad at how fast time as gone by, so I’m going for the more optimistic route and trying to occupy myself with all the wonderful things I still want to do in Granada!

Pampaniera is the little cluster of white on the side of the mountain.

Around the [Europe] in [8] days

Because summarizing my week of European exploration in so many words could never satisfactorily relate the incredibleness of the experience, I think a more visual explanation is necessary.

Friday, April 3

I left Granada at 5 p.m. only to pass the following 8 hours transferring from plane to train to bus to car with a good deal of “layover” time in between. Finally met up with my Uncle Franco and cousin Giulia at the Florence train station where we waited for Ross’s bus from the Pisa airport to arrive.

Saturday, April 4

After waking up in time for lunch (freshly made pesto pasta!), Ross and I went into downtown Florence where we caught site of a protest in progress. It was a very docile demonstration about city development, and was definitely a lot different from those I’ve seen in Spain.

How could I be in Florence and not visit the famous red-topped Duomo?? The cathedral is massive -- inside and out -- but not as gaudy as those in Madrid, Sevilla and Granada.

Sunday, April 5

With better weather, we explored more of Florence, making sure to walk along the Arno River and across the well known Ponte Vecchio.

We were sure to give the Florentine Boar’s gold snout a rub for good luck, even if it meant elbowing our way through the swarm of other prosperity-seeking tourists.

Monday, April 6

The obligatory pre-departure photos at my aunt and uncle’s house before Ross and I took the train into Florence one last time. Here I am with Ross and my cousin Giulia.

Ross and I flew out of the Pisa airport at 4 p.m. and were straight craving crêpes by the time we arrived in Paris a couple of hours later. After a navigating our way to our hotel via the subway, we went out for a walk around the city. Seeing Notre Dame at night was more impressive than I could have imagined. I only wish we could have had time to revisit it during the day!

The Eiffel Tower was equally impressive, and seeing how massive and aesthetically pleasing it is quickly helped change my opinion of Paris as a city of marginal personal interest to one of my favorites I’ve visited.

Tuesday, April 7

Fortunately, we were able to return to the Tower in the morning and view the city from the top.

After resolving to make a last-minute stop by the Arc de Triomphe, Ross and I madly scrambled to make our late afternoon train to Luxembourg City, boarding with literally seconds to spare. Looking back, spending less than 24 hours in the City of Lights may not have been the most practical of ideas, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again!

A quick two hours later, we found ourselves crossing the border into Luxembourg where Ross’s parents met us for dinner. And yes, we indulged in delicious Thai food before strolling around the super unique and very beautiful city.

Wednesday, April 8

From Luxembourg we rode back with Ross’s parents to the little town of Salmtal, a farming community just north of Trier and worlds away from the big cities we had visited earlier in the week. Spending the day walking among the vineyards and spying on the boxlike buildings of the countryside’s towns welcomingly slowed the pace of our rapid mini-tour of Europe. I really enjoyed seeing this side of Germany, and would love to see the country in the summertime when everything is greener.

Thursday, April 9

For a little bit of history (and more amazing German food), we took a day trip to Trier, the oldest city in Germany and a former capital of the Roman Empire. Everything seemed fresh and pleasant in the city despite there being ancient Roman ruins like the Porta Nigra, a Roman gateway, scattered about.

Friday, April 10

An early morning flight out of Germany had me back home in Granada in time for lunch. Though I had wanted to check out some of the Holy Week processions, I ended up choosing a long nap over a little bit of culture that afternoon.

Saturday, April 11

Woke up in time to enjoy several Easter parades, complete with hooded candle holders, bell ringing children, and large effigy platforms that required up to 30 people to carry for miles throughout the city. Each procession featured a different “theme,” the most elaborate being the Last Supper parade. I was impressed with how perfectly coordinated everything was, and how much was put into the Holy Week celebrations. Certainly something one would never find in a city in the States.

Needless to say, the week was absolutely fantastic. Europe is such a wonderful place, and I know I’m going to miss its diversity terribly when I return home in just more than a month. I keep reminding myself, though, that there’s no reason to be too upset about leaving if I fully intend to come back one day. And I definitely plan on doing just that.