Made in México

Racism in Spain, part 2

2012-01-06T08:20:00.000-06:00

I regularly read DolceCity Barcelona, which is a fairly popular, well-developed website that reviews movies, stores, restaurants, etc.

The other day, they posted a review of "Biutiful," Bardem's new movie. It uncovers the dark, poor, grimy underbelly of a working class Barcelona. Of course, as so many Spanish do, this reviewer takes much issue with Bardem, but also describes the portrayal of Barcelona as "almost Mexico City, dirty, corrupt, decadent." The lens is too "subjective, way too latin, very far away from Europe, [not my emphasis!] very far away."

Needless to say, can't wait to see this movie, and its take on a poor, crumbling cosmopolitan capital. Or does this reviewer never leave his exclusive, gated, hilltop community?

I don't even have to make this stuff up. It's just all here, in its disgustingly unapologizing, imperialist glory.

Find the review here, if you're interested (in castellano):

http://www.dolcecity.com/madrid/2010/12/biutiful-de-alejandro-g-inarritu.asp

2011-04-26T19:36:00.001-05:00

Let it be known:
I've officially moved my blog to http://kseniakonkina.blogspot.com/
I'm growing up and on, and although my blog is very important to me, the "russianvegan" part of the site causes a wee bit of embarrassment.

Update your readers/feeders/bookmarks/etc.
See you on the other side.

2011-04-08T21:44:00.000-05:00

I'm putting this blog on a mini-hiatus. Janire, my lovely euskaldunak friend is here [from Euskadi (Herria)=the Vasque Country] and there will be no time to blog, only time to enjoy and rediscover the wonderful city that is Chicago!

But after April 17th, expect thrilling, titillating, tasty blogposts! Like about the most delightful key lime pie that Emily and I have made, and the lost pleasures of life: sitting on benches! Reading real books! Picnicking! All just in time for a lush, green renaissance of the city. Ah, springtime...

Three Sentence Description

2011-03-31T11:49:00.016-05:00

For my class on "The Ugly American Coming Home," we were asked to write a three sentence description of our most significant experience abroad.

Here's mine:

Barcelona is like the annoying girlfriend that calls everyday-and when she stops calling, you get sad. The light is bright, the air dirty, and the people rude. Life there can be intolerable, but you wonder, under the sun, with a chocolate croissant in hand, why it is that you want to go back.

I was feeling quite melancholy yesterday, but it's true, Barcelona is una ciutat magnifica, and I would like to go back. Just to visit though, with a partner in hand. Never again could I live in that city.

Photo Project

2011-03-22T23:19:00.000-05:00

My favorite thing about Oaxaca is the light. The way it illuminates the already colorful buildings, the way it filters through windows, and the way it is constantly, dramatically changing. On the days that I would stay at home, (out of sickness, work, or desire to avoid pollution/drug lords/earthquakes?) I would take pictures out of my window about every 30-40 minutes to document the phenomenon.

This first set was all shot on the same day. 8:30 am.

12:11 pm

12:50 pm

4:10 pm

4:45 pm

5:13 pm

7 pm

7:41 pm

And looking the other way. These were all shot within 20-30 minutes of each other. Crazy, no?

First Day Back

2011-03-14T23:38:00.000-05:00

Get up at 8, fall back asleep, get up definitively at 8:20 to Luc crying. Eat fried potatoes, cucumber, and sundried tomatoes for breakfast. Walk for an hour with Luc; start running and don't stop. Come home sweaty and decide to take a midday bubble bath with rose cannabis bath gel. Exfoliate for the first time in three months and slather on green tea dead sea mineral body cream. Dress and go eat pad thai at arguably, one of Utah's best thai restaurants. Also have the best thai iced tea of my life. Drop mom off at spa and go buy things at Costco. Stop by Epic Brewery, the only Utah brewery allowed to brew strong beer. Buy five different bottles to sample. Come back, walk Luc again, pick mom up. Unpack, do laundry, play with Luc, open up two bottles and get a tiny bit tipsy. [Wonderful summer Belgian white, and awful, hoppy-on-crack Imperial Pale Ale.] Help mom pack, print off packing labels for selling back books. Have dinner [Dr. Praeger's veggie burger, basmati rice, salad.] Watch Californication and 3rd Rock from the Sun. Write this blog post. Undo laundry, go to sleep.

So nice to be at home.
:)

A Spicy Red Apple

2011-03-12T13:17:00.017-06:00

My host mother brought home a spicy red apple from a communion, and she gave it to me! I was excited to try this chili-smothered apple; I’ve seen them around, and foolishly considered them too spicy to purchase for myself.

As I opened the wrapper, a spicy, sweet smell wafted up to my nose. I was intrigued, but still cautious. I took a small bite. It was sweet, tasted like chili, with perhaps, a flake of salt to be found. I waited about two minutes before taking another bite, but to my great, pleasant surprise, there was no chili heat. (And I have a very low tolerance).

I gobbled this treat up slowly; it was just so fun! The sweet chili* goes nicely with the fresh crisp of the apple. The top of the apple turned out to be the concentrated chili part: too salty and overwhelming for my taste. I would have it again, and I really enjoyed the experience, but the caramel apple is still my favorite sauce-y apple version.

*I did just realize that the reason this chili doesn’t bite is because it’s sweet. Almost all cut-up fruit here is served with this kind of sauce.

Morning/Night

2011-03-11T13:05:00.000-06:00

This is what I wake up to every morning:

And this is what I see when I go to sleep:

Who else sees a California-similarity, in the roofs, buildings, landscape?

Mexico's Nutritional Pyramid (or Circle)

2011-03-10T06:05:00.001-06:00

I was happy to find that in the age of dominance of the Western health regime, we can still find a localized food pyramid, or as Nestle calls it, food plate.

Who can spot the squash blossom, cactus, papaya, guava, tortilla, tamal, concha, [a sweet bread to the right of the tamal] and amaranth bar? (At least, that’s what I think it is. To the bottom and right of the tortilla, it is a bar with red crosses on top. These are insanely popular here; they’re like exploded sesame sticks, although made with amaranth. Some of them are made with various types of nuts and seeds as well.)

Events, Updated.

2011-03-09T13:10:00.009-06:00

As it turns out, that helicopter was indeed a police search helicopter. Who were they looking for? The head of a drug/crime cartel, that lives in our neighborhood.

Read more about it here: http://www.presstv.ir/detail/160817.html

Good thing: drug boss captured.
Bad thing: drug bosses like to live in good neighborhoods. And so do I.

Altars + Devotions

2011-03-08T05:54:00.002-06:00

My casamama has a flowering Jesus cross between the entryway and the dining room. There are some dried flowers with special meaning to her tucked into it. Whenever she has time, however, she also fills a vase right under it with fresh flowers, as a symbol of her devotion, love, hope, and respect.

We all know that I’m about as religious as a doorstop, but I do really appreciate this custom. It’s lovely to have an altar somewhere in your living space, dedicated to whatever you believe in. It’s even lovelier to express your regard for it by regularly giving it fresh flowers.

This is an idea that I’m planning on using for my house. I’m not sure what to make my altar out to though. Maybe just love? Here they make these beautifully decorated, colorfully painted wooden hearts. I could do that.

Any thoughts on how to incorporate this practice? Do some of you already have an altar, besides to your dream girl/boy/it?

[Fun parenthesis: For the first half of the evangelization of the New World, the Spanish were using the flowered cross, as opposed to one with a dead, bleeding, seemingly sacrificed Jesus. Why? Well, they didn’t want the Natives to get the wrong idea and think that sacrifice was okay for really special people. They were trying to get them to kick the ritual blood-spilling habit, after all! To this day, the cross in many Latin American countries still has flowers on it.]

Events.

2011-03-07T10:00:00.001-06:00

I was woken at 5 this morning to the sound of helicopters circling around my part of Oaxaca. At first it sounded like military tanks storming the streets. I opened my balcony, and even though I couldn't see anything, it seemed like some sort of flying machine was right overhead: moving troops, preparing for an attack, attacking.

It was quite unsettling, and I couldn't sleep for an hour because of the noise.

I found out this morning that this was a search helicopter, looking for someone.

During my time in Oaxaca, I've been stuck in an elevator (more on this later), gone to a gas station that launders drug money, and experienced a 5.0 earthquake (later too). It's been eventful, but some of these events have been a little more stressful than I would have liked. I'm ready to go home.

Heat Stroke

2011-03-05T13:00:00.000-06:00

One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging a lot lately is because two Sundays ago, I got heat stroke. I came home, huffy, puffy, and sweaty. Ate and took a nap. After the nap I mysteriously had a fever, and thought I had come down with something.

As I got worse throughout the night, I realized that taking my sweater off helped. I also then realized that there was no reason for me to have a fever; I had heat stroke!

Thankfully, I had previously experienced this in the Grand Canyon, so this time, I knew what to do. I blended up some strawberry Emergen-C (gracias a dios it wasn’t an icky flavor!) and stuck my head under cold water.

The next day, I was fine. The experience, however, was pretty awful. Not only was I being paranoid and afraid of dying, but I also had to take care of myself.

It was a nice reset moment for me in which I could re-evaluate what I wanted to do with myself, what I wanted to say, who I wanted to spend my time with, and what kind of floor I wanted to have in my house.

I want to take a moment and encourage everyone to slow down. To be a little kinder to others, and to be a little gentler with ourselves. Life is too precious to go careening through it, lighting things on fire Find what and who you love, and express your love as often as you can. That said, take anything that insults your inner being and your humanity, and throw it out the window! Life is too short.

(Especially if you have heat stroke in México, thinking that you’ll have to be taken to the hospital, where no one will ever find you again.)

Darling Pascal

2011-03-03T13:13:00.000-06:00

I am dismayed by having to tell you all that our wonderful, joyful little poodle has passed away. He had kidney disease from an early age and it suddenly caught up to his Tigger-jumping self.

Pascal was a phenomenal dog. Although he was stubborn as stubborn can be, and many times, liked to take his walks only with mom's company, he was energetic, and playful, and smart.

A true French aristocrat, he had a proud, royal comportment. He wasn't the dog that would sit and roll over; he was above that. He didn't even like chocolate! (To protect his boyish figure?)

Dearest Pascal, you will be greatly missed. It's already hard to imagine family life with only one dog in the house. Thank you for teaching me that poodles can be so sensitive, smart, and perceptive, and thanks for all the joy you brought to our lives. We love you.

Guacamole!

2011-03-03T12:55:00.000-06:00

Finally! The first thing that many of us wanted to eat was authentic, fresh, guacamole mexicano. Alas, it was nowhere to be found! No signs of it, no mention on menus, nothing! I began to think that it was a regional thing (perhaps they eat lots of guacamole in the north?) or that I had gone to sleep and stumbled into an awful nightmare where everything is the same…but there’s no guacamole!

Have no fear, after three weeks of panting, we found it, in all its delicious, green glory. (With cheese on top! Mmm…)

Excuses + Routines

2011-03-01T12:49:00.000-06:00

I wanted to help explain my lack of a blogging presence by giving you a sense of what my daily life is like here.

7:45–wake-up

8:15–eat breakfast

9:30 or earlier–leave to go to el Instituto

10-1–Civilizations class

1:30–2:30–Spanish class

3–4–lunch at home

4:30–leave yet again for the Instituto, this time, for my language exchange session

5–6–language exchange

This all means that I only really have free time for about an hour or so before morning class, and then after 6 pm. This, combined with the fact that our classes actually impose a very University of Chicago-esque workload, means that I wind up with very little time to actually blog. Not to even mention the internet issues.

But never fear! I have a list of blogposts I would like to write and being as diligent about my lists as I am, they will all be written. It may mean you will be reading about sunny Oaxaca excursions when I’m already stateside, but then we’ll actually be able to chat about it one on one.

México, D.F. Día 3

2011-02-27T12:20:00.010-06:00

Someone in administration declared Wednesday museum day, so off we went…

To the glittering postal office, which now has a museum.

And a postal fairy! I love this little munchkin. I’ve never seen the magic of mail captured so well. Getting a postcard, or better yet, handmade hazelnut turrón from Spain (Thanks, Anita!) is really just like getting a fairy to come to your house!

We then went to the Modern Art Museum, which, por cierto, is one of the best modern museums I have ever been too.

There hung the original two Frida’s, after which I curled up in happiness on a modern chair.

Also, we went to the fancy Chapultepec Castle. [Chapulín: grasshopper. Tepec: place. So, place of the grasshoppers!] Who knew México had a castle right in the middle of it? Well, it does. Incidentally, U.S. troops occupied it in 1847.

It had all sorts of murals and revolutionist memorabilia, but was largely, “eh.” Except this little guy falling from the ceiling…

Then, on the way to the National Museum of Anthropology, we saw history come to life:

This is an ancient Central México celebration, usually performed in May to celebrate spring and a new planting season. Tying themselves up to the pole represents the past, and unwinding it is the metaphoric entrance into the new season. Or at least, that’s what I was told. It was phenomenal to see, although it must be mentioned that terribly out-of-season/ritual context. They came around to ask for donations, if you understand what I mean. Quite sad how sometimes, commercialization of historic traditions is one of the only way they can survive.

And then we went into the museum. It’s pretty, and modern, and has a nice layout.

I enjoyed the quotes.

[Translated: I have to go like this? Like the flowers that perished? Nothing will be left in my name? Nothing of my fame on this earth? At least flowers, at least songs!]

However, one can only see so many clovis points in a lifetime. Oh, look, and there’s another jade necklace! They had jade! It was valuable! They got it from far away, which means there were extensive, well-developed trade networks.

Having already absorbed these points three weeks ago, we got a little silly and played jaguar:

We did however get to see the Aztec sun/calendar wheel (which was unearthed under the Cathedral, by the way, and subsequently re-buried because the evil Spanish were afraid the remaining native population would start worshipping it).

I also got to take a picture with my favorite Mesoamerican deity: Chac Mool. I highly suggest reading the Carlos Fuentes short story.

An observation of the day: Walking around on big streets here does not bother me as much as it does in Oaxaca and Barcelona. They are just as big, and there are just as many cars, but thankfully, my nervous and biological systems do not react in the same way. Plus point for México!

Five Things I Want to Do de la Vuelta

2011-02-25T00:43:00.012-06:00

I love Oaxaca. Being here is comfortable. I haven't been this happy in over a year and a half.
However, when I return stateside, the first five things I'm craving to do are:
1. Eat sushi.
2. Fill a bathtub with hot, hot water, and savor it.
3. Go to a movie theater and eat buttery popcorn. (Although I did just come back from the only movie theater in Oaxaca, the popcorn wasn't buttery enough.)
4. Sit on a couch. Lay on a couch. Be a couch.
5. See all you wonderful people!

Chinese New Year

2011-02-07T13:36:00.001-06:00

On Thursday our group decided to celebrate Chinese New Year by going out to one of the few Chinese restaurants in Oaxaca. And although I only got a jasmine tea (which, in itself, was a nice break from the ever persistent Mexican manzanilla-chammomile) and can't comment much on the food, a nice time was had by all. And! We wore red, because Gloria says that "red is as important to the Chinese as jaguars to Mesoamericans?"

2011-02-05T17:10:00.001-06:00

Just upgraded to the new blogger publisher and am finding my way around...Sorry for the weird formatting of the previous post. Hopefully it'll get better!

México, D.F. Día 2

2011-02-05T17:07:00.000-06:00

This is the day that we got in touch with our teotihuacano roots. Teotihuacan is approximately 30 km away from the city; the site of a grandiose indigenous culture that inspired even the Aztecs to make yearly pilgrimages to it.

This is the monumental ancient architecture I was looking for. Things so big and so grand that they keep you awestruck.

The avenue of the Dead that traces the entire city; nobles’ palaces were built along this stretch, and now, this is where people persistently try to sell you fake jade masks.

Although the steps were high, the rubber railing not sturdy at best, and my fear of heights ever-present, we climbed the monolithic Temple of Sun anyways.

And it was a hell of a climb! Climbing it was like climbing three smaller pyramids; I stopped to rest at each platform.

The view was indeed magnificent, if you didn’t focus too much on getting down.

After lunch, we visited some of the onsite museums. I really appreciated this reconstruction of an elite residential room. It’s hard to remember how colorful and decorated things used to be; I’m a big fan of bringing all of those wild building colors back!

Later that night, not wanting to go out, but not wanting to stay in the hotel either, we decided to walk around in search of ice-cream. Ice-cream we didn’t find, but there were no complaints about the chocolate and churros we stumbled upon.

At the end of our street also stands La casa de los azulejos/The House of Tiles. It was a political man’s club for much of its time; now it’s a McDonald’s for grown-ups restaurant.

Anyways, chocolate and tiles? A quintessentially Spanish night. Or a quintessentially Mexican night?

Let’s brood on that one for a moment.

Made in México

2011-02-03T04:12:00.000-06:00

Explanation of change of title:
As probably has seemed obvious to many of you for quite some time, "No Spain, No Gain" is not really appropriate for my Mexican adventures. While I'll still talk a lot about España, México is now at my life's center stage.

The new name is perhaps not as witty, but I think it's a good reflection of my quest to find the true, the authentic, the genuine Mexican experience, whether that's ice-cream, people, or Dominican monasteries. In the age of rapid commercialization, instant publishing, and friend requests, I think a search for the handcrafted, the locally sourced, and the personally sold is increasingly important, and likewise difficult.

Thus, my search. And documentation of it.

México, D.F. Día 1

2011-02-02T09:43:00.002-06:00

An early rise, with three chocolate pancakes to breakfast, got us on the road at 8:45ish and into the city at 3:30 pm. Although I deeply fear long bus rides, this one was rather light, a mostly straight shot into the city.

The landscape, as surprisingly, so many landscapes around the world are, was very much like Utah’s.

Driving into the city, we were bombarded with big avenues, tall buildings, masses of people crossing the street, and so.many.street vendors. Not only do México City shop owners like to stand outside of their store, (thus usurping precious sidewalk space) but there are rows upon rows of people hawking their goods: cd’s that make learning English fun, concealer that was made..where exactly?, and two black tank tops for two dollars.This is a big city, no doubt. It’s likeLatin America, but supersized.

Being in the historical center, (where our hotel was) immediately added another element to the picture; this city is old, beautiful, European. Like my roommate said while looking out of the window: “it’s like Rome, without the Romans.”

In the afternoon we briefly walked around the Zócalo (main plaza) and surrounding areas. It became very clear, very quickly that the chilangos (nickame for residents; their particular expressions and style of speaking are likewise called chilango) mean business. This is a city of commerce and politics. People dress up and walk quickly.

(Except the guy in the corner over there who’s sprawled out in front of the following church, which, incidentally, has absolutely delicious guayaba-guava empanadas.)

Pre-México Thoughts

2011-02-01T09:31:00.002-06:00

We have just gotten back from an epic to México D.F. (Mexico City), and although post scheduling has given you the illusion that I have actually still been posting, I haven’t. In fact, I haven’t had internet time in over a week. This means, however, that the following week, más o menos, will be dedicated to blog posts about the capital, and the largest city in the western hemisphere!

First, a note. Being used to Mexico City always called México, D.F., I usually just call it D.F. This is technically wrong as D.F. is the province, and México is the name of the city. Very strange to call it México however, as one may think that you’re talking about the country. [Similar to the Washington D.C. problem of course, when people get your hopes up about the verdant Northwestern state, only to wind up talking about the hustle and bustle of a political city.] Because of this problem, I think I’ll continue calling it D.F., although the locals do refer to it as México. (Refer to highway signage above.)

I’m a good student. I pay attention in classes. So when I was told in junior high that being in Mexico’s polluted capital for one day is equivalent to smoking two packs of cigarettes, the image of a dark, dirty, smoggy D.F. began to follow me around.

What do I expect? An entirely too big, unpleasant capital city. Lots of highway loops and lots of traffic. Lots of gray, including the sky. Too many people, too many cars, too much pollution.

Mi habitación

2011-01-30T18:13:00.000-06:00

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my room here is bigger than the one I inhabit at home, that it is painted pink and yellow, and that I have my very own balcony (shared with Jeremy).

The bed is the most comfortable one I have slept on in Latin America. The pillow, not so much, so I don’t really use it.

I’m also really happy to have a desk, as I was not expecting one and it is crucial to my happy, productive person functioning. This is, in fact, where I’ve been writing almost all of my blogposts.

I was a little disturbed to come home to this cross placed on my desk Friday night.

I was a little scared to sleep with it in the same room, and want to cover it up somehow, but I’m sure that would offend host mother, who, I just found out today, is secretary of Templo de Santo Domingo, a beautiful Dominican church here in town, which looks like this:

Mi casa es tu casa

2011-01-29T18:15:00.000-06:00

Not really, but you can be invited via internet. I’ve taken a catalogue of pictures of my host house, from full room views to minor details. It’s a really big, spacious house, with two balconies. There are three rooms, three bathrooms, an office/study, a big front room (that no, is not very lived in because no one ever uses it), and a small garden out back.

The entrance:

The living room:

The dining room:

We rarely eat at the big table, only when there’s company. Usually our meals are taken at the little table close to the wall:

La cocina:

Jeremy’s room:

Nuestro baño:

El jardín:

There is lots of colorful decoration in true Mexican style, with plenty of fruit and animal themes.

Lots of little figurines and toys (some of which, I’m sure, have been gifted by previous students) and a lot of religious paraphernalia and objects.

Also, a lot of colonial and Mesoamerican themes in the paintings. Women by hearths, cala lilies, fruit, squash, etc.

Our host mother’s son is a painter and the two side paintings were done by him:

I’ll share pictures of my room in a later blogpost, but in the meantime, check out the picasa album for more house documentation: http://picasaweb.google.com/kkonkina/LaCasaInOaxaca#

Prueba de Nieves 2: Leche Quemada

2011-01-26T11:31:00.000-06:00

Before calling it a night, I decided to get some nieve. I was in the mood for something sweet and creamy, preferably a crepe, and even though quite easy to find in Oaxaca on a weekday, this task was rendered very difficult by Santo Domingo. So for 15 pesos ($1.25) I got this little cup of one of my favorite flavors/things: leche quemada, or, dulce de leche.

That was me before trying it.

That is me after.

May I just say, disgusting! Even more so than the maguey goat cheese disaster, as this one has a persistent smoky flavor that just won’t go away. It’s sweet, but tastes like a grill at the same time.

How can leche quemada have such an awful reincarnation? It should be against Catholicism!

Also, why is the barbecue flavor, even if it was good and actually dulce-de-leche-y, white? One point for Hagen-Dazs, zero points for nieve oaxaqueño street vendor #512. [Apparently he is actually considered one of the best nieve men, so next time I’m sticking to fruit flavors.]

Prueba de Nieves 1: Mamey

2011-01-24T10:01:00.000-06:00

We all know that I’m a big ice-cream fiend, and I’m determined to try as many nieve [ice-cream, literally, snow] as I can.

There were few things opened in Matatlán, the mezcal town, except the ice-cream vendors by the church. Deciding that a nice nieve after a dusty day of mezcal tasting would be a good way to round out our excursion, Ben and I chose the oldest lady to sell us one of her many nieve varieties. We both wanted mamey: the cactoid plant that is used for mezcal.

Perhaps we were too excited, as after the first bite, I immediately blurted out, “goat cheese!”

That’s right. It’s a subtle flavor, but undoubtedly goat-cheesy, and there were no other flavor highlights to make up for it. Everyone else seemed to agree, although perhaps I skewed the pool by exclaiming my opinion beforehand. Either way, no one liked it.

Here is Ben rightly suspicious of this flavor. We’ll have to think twice (and not order at all), before purchasing another cactus/plant ice cream.

[*The only nice part, but not saving grace of this was that we got it in a small edible waffle cup.]

Just a Regular Saturday Night

2011-01-22T13:41:00.003-06:00

Get dressed at 5 pm. Eat a banana on the way to a sandwich/juice shop where briefly meet friends to discuss beach plans for this weekend. Thankful that they have everything under control, leave to meet people at the Instituto to go see a play that our Spanish teacher is in. Todo Menos Godot (Everything but Godot; a re-interpretation of Waiting for Godot). Find gourmet bakery with cupcakes on the way. Walk by a bunch of highway-lining taco stands, with employees who are simultaneously cleaning and whistling at me. I do look nice today, and the attention isn’t nearly as bad as it was in Morocco. Oh, I mean Spain. Wait for 7 minutes, take a picture under some tin hearts because they’re putting a wedding on and I match, and leave with a company of 2.

Shortly board bus, get a nonsensical reply from the bus driver after asking if he can tell us where to get off. This makes me nervous for the entire ride. Talk to nice neighbor lady and she lets us know. Get off at a centro comercial. Walk through their underground parking garage, take a slanting moving sidewalk up, to find mega supermarket. This is not a theater. Ask coat check lady and she says the theater is derechito (to the right) and green. We do not know the name. Make last trip on now declining moving sidewalk, walk out the door, turn a right, and be very relieved in 5 minutes when find big green community center with people in it, seemingly waiting for a play. Pay a young teenager straight into her pocket, walk in, and since the seating is actually on the stage and there aren’t enough chairs, sit at the edge of platform and then move onto the floor. Fun! Really! Enjoy play, wait around for a bit to see if Omar comes out; does not; we leave and catch one of the last buses into town. Take magical shortcut home, find magical taquería. Order quesadilla and put lots of wonderful sauce and pico de gallo on it. Be

succumbed by a grapefruit refresco. Very content with two-dollar meal, walk home and get excited about reading Last of the Mohicans/Carlos Fuentes.

Nutritional Labels

2011-01-20T11:35:00.003-06:00

Last time, talking about groceries, I forgot to comment on the back of my package of Bubulubu.

There’s this fascinating thing that says, “Fill yourself with the energy of 30 minutes of exercise a day!” I’m not sure whether the chocolate covered marshmallow with strawberry jam in the middle is supposed to help you exercise better, or if after eating it, you will indeed have the energy to exercise, or what. Or perhaps they just feel bad about selling deliciously evil treats to kids and want to make up for it by encouraging them to exercise.

I was also really excited to know that the package was biodegradable, and was taken by the universal “throw this away into a bin” icon that says, “A clean México is the work of all.” I really like this approach and think it is much more effective than just asking someone to please not litter. You want people to take ownership and responsibility for their country, and view the environment as a cultural heritage that needs to be preserved, so go Bubulubu for taking that step!

Música

2011-01-19T11:33:00.001-06:00

The first thing that I did when I got settled into my room with some alone time was put on a tune. A traveler is limited in what they carry with them. You can’t take all of your clothes, you can’t take all of your friends, and you can’t take all of your books (kindlebooks are not real books), but you can probably take all of your music. All the melodies and lyrics in the world that remind you of that time in Valencia, walking on the beach with a loved one and an orange blossom perfumed air, or bring out that secret desire you have to move to Brasil, lay on the beach, and drink cocos all day long.

Whatever the case may be, whatever your musical preferences, one thing is for certain. While surroundings, people, and memories may change, music is the constant that brings everything together.

Cold Showers

2011-01-17T09:57:00.002-06:00

Traveling in Latin America means many things: eating more tortillas than you ever thought possible, being able to try a wide variety of foods, drinks, deserts, etc, that are all based on corn, and by chance, partaking in local town saint celebrations which probably include strong alcoholic drinks, corn-based.

It also means cold, low water pressure showers. The water is not freezing cold, and can sometimes even achieve warm status, but it will never be able to approximate a steaming United States shower. This situation varies of course, and in our house, if you let the water run long enough, it does get semi–warm. Still uncomfortable though, although it certainly encourages you to take short showers. So far, I’m still not quite used to it; it’s just as jarring and squeally as it was the first time.

This picture is not an accurate representation of our shower; it just came out that way. It does portray a rather harrowing, metaphorically dark shower experience though, which is what cold water and an open window make it.

[I’m not complaining; I’m just not showering that often.]

Archaeology...Live! Part 2

2011-01-14T08:58:00.005-06:00

Our third stop was Mitla, whose town outskirts I had already been on before.

We lunched in the lovely plaza, and then proceed to the ruins, which are now crowned by a lovely Catholic church.

They were the biggest ruins we had seen on this trip, and we had to climb up the very steep stairs to the main palace with our hands and feet.

It was here for the first time on this archaeological journey that we got to see thatched roof residences, giving us an idea of what it would be like to live in some of these rooms. (Quite dark, but nice engravings.)

We entered our first tomb in Mitla; the opening was so small that we had to leave our backpacks outside and crouch down. What we found inside was…the smell of death. Ceremonial burial, now very old, musty, and humid. It was hard not to sweat and think that sacrificed dust was seeping into your pores. Needless to say, cool.

And although we were all pretty tired by this point, we ventured on to our last stop, Yagul. Perhaps it was the timing, the tranquility of the sun, and the mist among the sierras, but this is my favorite site. Also perhaps because of this:

There were also some fabulous cactuses crowning the residential remains:

While others went on to climb higher up, I stayed around among the ruins, soaking up the view and generally being happy with life.

P.S. These two blogposts have cost me two hours of time, so y'all better really appreciate it. And yes, internet is impossible outside the U.S.

Archaeology...Live! Part 1

2011-01-13T08:16:00.005-06:00

Today was a busy, exhausting day spent climbing into ancient zapotec tombs (and back out of them), and soaking up the general coolness of being able to tread the places where human sacrifices were performed, gifts offered to the gods, and the first Mesoamerican urban centers emerged.

We visited four sites in total, all in the Tlacolula valley. After out trips to Hierve el Agua and Matatlán, this was my third time in the valley. I must say that it has some of the most beautiful desert landscape I have ever seen, and that’s a lot from someone who lives in Utah and doesn’t really like deserts.

So, Dainzú. It has the largest amount of sculptural art after Monte Albán, but unfortunately, not as well preserved.

It was hard to make anything out, although ballgames and sacrifice was the subject theme.

It was a good size site that was fun to climb around on. I especially enjoyed finding some shade on top of the pyramid and pretending it was my own kingdom!

The mountain behind me in this picture is called Cerro Danush, the capital of this community. Before the Catholic chapel, there was a pyramid and temple right at the very top. If you look closely, you can see terraces where people lived. To this day it is believed that inside the mountain is a treasure chest of gold, but there’s a serpent protecting it and sirens to distract you if you go in search.

Our next stop was Lambityeco, which is the best excavated site after Monte Albán in the Oaxaca Valley. It’s a small site, mainly composed of two adjacent palaces. Really, they were the third palaces in a layer of six, one on top of the other.

There was some pretty neat decoration, as evidenced by this tomb entryway. And also, this fancy head:

As I said, very tiring trip, so I will finish up this saga tomorrow.

Apple Yogurt

2011-01-12T12:59:00.003-06:00

One of my favorite parts about travel is experiencing new flavors, new flavor combinations, and new takes on things. Especially when it comes to food.

This is why I always scope out the yogurt section, in whatever city I’m in. Yesterday’s flavor of the night was apple, which I’m sure they have all over the world, just not in the U.S. Do American distributers really think that apple yogurt and blueberry gum are flavors that wouldn’t do well? Or are we just too stuck in our dairy ways?

A Preliminary Review of Oaxaca

2011-01-10T14:37:00.001-06:00

I just wrote a mini, preemptive review of Oaxaca to suggest to a friend that he work it into his México itinerary. I thought I would share:

The center is unbelievably lovely, a kind of colonial fairytale of old street lights and brightly colored buildings. There are lots of cool things to explore downtown- a museum of ice-cream, the beyond numerous impromptu markets, all of the different food stands, etc. True, one could find this in many other parts of México, but Oaxaca somehow makes all of this more accessible...It's compact but there's enough to adventure through. It's just really nice, in general. I also hear that the Oaxacan coast is amazing. Wild surfing and almost abandoned beaches. It seems like potentially the best bet for coastal visits in the country.

Look at the center! At night! Look!

México vs España, Round 1

2011-01-08T13:38:00.003-06:00

The other day I was told I spoke bad Spanish because it was Spanish from Spain. It was a joke, and I laughed. This person also told me that actually, the Spain accent can be understood by anyone across the South American world, even in the smallest pueblo.

This took me as a surprise, as the Spanish call castellano mexicano, "mexican" and oftentimes, think they speak an entirely different language.

I also asked my host brother if there was any left-over post-colonialist resentment on the Mexican side. He said absolutely not. Comparing this to the frequent unapologetic and brutal racism coming from the Spanish side, I'm wondering who the real uncivilized lower-class citizen is.

Grocery Store Shopping in México!

2011-01-07T09:38:00.001-06:00

Although I really love markets, food stalls, and other cool, authentic ways of food sourcing, I also really love going to grocery stores when I’m abroad. I love to see what they have, how much it costs, if brands are similar, or different, or strangely renamed.

Today, desiring some chocolate delight, I went to my first Mexican grocery store, Pitico. Fairly small, although with a decent produce section, a bakery department, and household goods. I didn’t wander around as much as I should have, because I was kind of anxious and overly self-conscious, but I picked up some interesting goodies.

Before that though, a few interesting observations:

· ***They have two cases full of yogurt, which, for this store, is a lot of taken-up space. They had really interesting natural artisanal yogurt that I was very surprised to see; flavors like mango and maracuya.

· -***I was strangely attracted to Yoplait, even though it’s been ages since I last ate it. Why does finding familiar brands in far away countries (in this case, obviously not so far away) so interesting, exciting, and fun/scary that it almost prompts you to try them? Even though you would never eat them at home?

· ***Bags of raw, cut-up red apples with chili powder on them. Hm.

***A pretty good bulk station with flour, chilli powder, and almonds. I wondered why almonds were chosen in this mix, and then I realized that here, they make the chocolate with crushed almonds!

· ***A microwave by the popcorn! With a nearby sign that said, “Explota tus palomitas.” (Explode your popcorn).

I couldn’t resist picking up some of these arcoiris (rainbow) cookies. They look nothing but rainbows but are cute little pink and white coconut balls on top of a cookie. Cute! And weird! It seems like it should be a Chinese cookie…

Also, by the checkout line, I was immediately sold on “Bubulubu.” It’s marshmallow with strawberry jam covered in chocolate, has a cute ghost bear on the cover, and it’s called, “Bubulubu.” How could I say no? Interestingly, this was the most expensive item, costing about twice all the other ones, even though it was still about 80 cents.

And blackberry gum! Which turns out to actually be blueberry gum, although the package is purple and in Spain mora would just mean blackberry.

The popcorn, which no, I did not pop at the store, is for a newly instituted movie night!

All of these snacks? 10 cents short of $2! Ah, México!

Monte Albán

2011-01-06T17:04:00.000-06:00

Indeed, as my post last week foretold, this Tuesday I found myself on Monte Albán. Yes, climbing some pyramids. (Maybe there were so many sacrifices because the poor things couldn't run away fast enough? They are very big steps; hard to get down, or up on.)

It was my first visit to archaeological ruins in South America. It was exciting and incredible to be rubbing on such old, bloody, wise buildings, but I must admit I was expecting a bit more. Something bigger, something more grandiose. The Monte Albán complex is great and interesting to be sure, but it wasn't awe-striking. I need to stop having high expectations.

Wardrobe for México

2011-01-05T04:39:00.002-06:00

I deliberately chose bright, saturated colors for my trip to México. Igual, it’s erroneously stereotypical to associate México with bright, bold colors, but there’s a reason that Frida Kahlo and Diego Riviera are Mexican. Mainly, I chose bright colors to set the mood: I want bright, cheery, joyful things in my life. I want to be happy, and perky, and ooze glee, god damn it!

And yes, I think colorful clothes will help take me there.

Oaxaca:: First Night:: Impressions

2011-01-04T16:35:00.003-06:00

From the moment we initiated landing to falling asleep my first night in Oaxaca, the following thoughts ran through my head:

We are not flying over an ocean. By why do these towns seem like tiny little islands of light? Oh, I see the mountains now.

Oh man, where the hell is Oaxaca? I only see very small clusters of electricity. How big is it??

Ah, I don’t want to! Take me back! Take me home!

I don’t want to this all over again. I just got into Salt Lake. Now I’m going here. Why the new places all the time?!

Can’t I sit still for a while? What is wrong with me? Why did I come?

There are lots of students and young people, and older, midlife crisis travelers on the plane. They’re super-excited to take their Spanish classes, and meet other people just like them and call it chance life coincidence, and be bedazzled by the strong liquor and cheap prices.

I see a palm tree! We are officially south of the border.

I see two men in military gear with machine guns running towards the plane. We are definitely in México now.

And now we wait for half an hour through passport control with only two controllers; the inefficiency begins.

It’s slightly humid, although very fresh air. There is lots of vegetation around these parts. You can smell it! I am sweating. Already. And I brought a winter coat?!

Great, typical hyped-up tire stores with really fancy, colorful signage and “Jesus Cristo es el dueño de Oaxaca” (Jesus Christ is the master of Oaxaca) signs. Ah, Latin America.

Now this is a pretty colorful part that reminds me of pictures a fellow blogger is taking in Nepal. I wish I could just sit at home and have her send me these pictures instead.

How the hell am I going to spend more than two months here? I spent a month in Ecuador, and that was enough.

I’m getting carsick and overheated. As per usual Ksenia tired-mode.

Lovely house! Lovely family! My room is bigger than the one I have at home, and it’s all very colonial and my walls are painted pink and yellow! I can dig it.

And I have a desk! Oooh…desk!

Mexicans seems nice…

***

No need to send me messages of, “Oh Ksusha, it’ll be okay. These are just preliminary, scary new place jitters.” I know. Trust me, I know. But seriously you guys, I’m tired of travelling. I haven’t wanted to travel ever since I arrived in Spain. No desire whatsoever! I want to explore what’s around me. I want to be part of local history, proudly recollect from the dusty cupboards of my memory the cool diner that was once on 21^st street before that painting store moved in. I want to be a native. And you may be many things as a traveler, but you will never be that.

*Again, not to worry. I’m putting all of these thoughts out of my mind and trying to focus on the positive. Seriously. I’m pretty excited about Oaxaca, actually.

How you Know you Have a Spanish Girlfriend...

2011-01-03T12:50:00.000-06:00

"Sorry honey, can't talk today. I have to watch the Barça-Madrid game!"

And you get email updates like this:

"Barça in 20 minutes, more or less, has made two GOALS TO MADRID! OEOEOEOE!!!"

A strange thing happened on the way to...

2011-01-01T11:40:00.000-06:00

I was driving around the other day, listening to Jarabe de Palo (Stick Syrup, it means; one of my favorite (Spanish) artists). I was flooded by feelings of goodwill, reminiscence and longing for Spain. I thought, "What a wonderful country! What a wonderful people! The spirit, the fiesta, the easygoing nature!*" Most of all, "the lisp!"

I don't know how it can be humanly possible to be so attached to a speech impediment, but I am! I love the lisp; I adore it; my ears bend toward the lisper in patient yearning whenever I hear it. It indeed could have been the reason behind my initial infatuation with Spain, and the affair that ensued.

I even went so far as to think, "I should really go back there and live again for a few years..."

Really, Ksenia? I hated it! I was miserable! Every day!

I quickly gathered my sense and very quickly decided that I shall never go to live there again, but my, the illusion is still strong. Their PR department has created such a sumptuous, sultry, engaging image; it's hard to not give in. Olé!

*In my experience, Spaniards are everything, if not easygoing. Dramatic, exaggerated, a paper cut is a curse upon your mother and a threat of anal sex (rape?) of a son of a whore!

Oaxaca vs. Barcelona: pre-departure thoughts

2010-12-29T08:03:00.003-06:00

This is a picture of Barcelona [mine, by the way], but it is not Barcelona. The Gaudi architecture, the sea, the construction, the towering Sagrada Familia are parts of the city, but they do not entirely define it.

Any snapshot, any postcard image of a beautiful, romantic, ancient and modern Barcelona leave out the dirt, the smells, the millions of irritating honking cars, the rudeness of its inhabitants.

I think that one of the reasons Barcelona was such a let down for me was because I simply had too many expectations before I came. I had read about four books about the place and was expecting a small quaint, medieval city with cool architecture and Picasso museums. No one told me that crossing the street from the medieval ruins to the Picasso museum was as unpleasant as getting your nails ripped out by Countess Bathory. I knew too much about it, and consequently, I wanted too much.

This time, I'm not reading my Oaxaca guide book until I get on the plane. I want to be mesmerized, surprised, be able to cherish all of the new, cool findings yet unknown to me. I know very little about the place, aside from its nearness to Monte Albán, its renowned cocoa, and the famous zócalo. I want to keep it that way.

This, then, is a picture of Oaxaca from above. [Not taken by me, yet.] I hope it doesn't disappoint, but this time, I've taken precautions.

This Time Next Week...

2010-12-28T11:46:00.004-06:00

I will be climbing Monte Albán, a mountain/ancient political control center/capital of the Zapotecs 10 km from Oaxaca. It's an assortment of buildings in the center of the Oaxaca Valley, on an elevated hill. Setting up camp on this hill makes agriculture impossible; even water has to be brought up to the settlement from down below. This also makes a quite bad site for trading, networking, commercial purposes.

It's been theorized, then, that the settlement was built to carry out administrative and logistical functions for a military confederation. It's interesting that all of the decoration is warfare-based; no religious themes are found. (Potentially to maintain religious/political neutrality).

Pictures will come!

Like Martha Stewart...

2010-12-26T12:41:00.000-06:00

...with a little bit of evil!

Dismayed at the lack of holiday festivity around the house, I took matters into my own hands, googled "green Christmas decorations" and came up with the following.

Behold!

It's shocking how much fun playing housewife is.

Mail. Real Mail.

2010-12-23T12:25:00.000-06:00

The other day I was going to email a few short lines to some wonderful people in my life. What I had to say wasn't time sensitive, so I decided to jot it down on paper and mail it to them instead.

I love sending mail, and everyone loves receiving it. It's like a little time travel back to when mail was personalized and thought-out, not just some digital screen that you type away at and then press send.

I'm trying to cut down on the email I send and receive, and I think this is going to be one cute little tactic. Anytime you want to send a thank-you note, recipe, quote, magazine excerpt, etc, why not do it on real paper and put it in a real envelope? Stamps are so cool!

Emily says...

2010-12-20T10:55:00.000-06:00

This is Emily:

Last night on our search of a vegetarian bar, we were walking through an area which had lots of unique, expensive boutiques, lots of abandoned lots, and a random tire store in the middle of all of it (Emily thinks they were probably stolen!)

Walking by an empty, overgrown lot, Emily said the following, and has given me permission to quote her:

"When I was little I would sneak into these lots and pick flowers and grass and think that it was nature."

Very profound, Emily, very profound.

This picture is for you:

Productivity Tip #1

2010-12-17T11:50:00.000-06:00

I spend a good chunk of my blog-reading time on productivity and self-improvement. A lot of it is common sense knowledge, but it can sometimes be very self-assuring and once in a while, you come across a good tip.

Usually, I just think of things I need to send every 15 minutes and open up my email straight away to do them, which interrupts whatever I'm doing and leads me to lose another 15 minutes looking at whatever emails have come in since the last time I checked.This leads me into an awful vortex of email checking and not really doing anything.

What I (try to) do instead is keep a daily list of all the people I need to email, and then appoint a time to write all of those emails. It's hard to resist the temptation to get these things done straight away, but it helps me focus and be more efficient in the long-run.

*Please let me know if you really do not want to hear about productivity tips!

Signs of my Language-Confused Mind

2010-12-14T11:37:00.000-06:00

A thought crossed my mind the other day,

"A lo mejor, это podemos постирать?"

["Better (as in, a better option would be), we could wash this?"]

This is a good example of what happens when you are tri/quadrilingual and your brain just doesn't want to limit its self-expression to one language!

I've certainly also produced sentences with Spanish, English, and Russian, and sometimes Català too, but can't think of any good examples right now.

Food for Thought

2010-12-11T11:01:00.000-06:00

"The five or six largest agrochemical companies...are also among the largest seed companies worldwide." Harold Brookfield, Exploring Agrodiversity

New life purpose: take down Monsanto.

(Not as if I didn't know about this before, but this wonderfully eloquent chapter connects all the dots for me...Green revolution, farmer suicide, etc. I've mellowed out over the years, but there are some things that I get really angry about, and this is one of them.)

The Secret to Productivity: Focus

2010-12-08T12:52:00.000-06:00

I don't like productivity blogs that sound like this:

"All stressed out and no end in sight?! Motivation! What you need is motivation! And a vision board! .... Think of where you want to be in three years, and draw a picture of it...and all of your work is going to be so easy!.....Motivation!"

I actually hear that vision boards are pretty cool, but hey, they're not helping me finish my final essay any faster.

I spend a lot of time thinking about my own efficiency, productivity. I'm as stressed out and overwhelmed by modern life as any of you, so I want to share concrete ideas and tips that have worked for me.

Without further ado:

Today I worked for an hour straight with no distractions or interruptions of any kind and was able to write about two pages. This is unprecedented for me. If I'm not thinking of interesting things to GoogleToolbarSearch, I'm jumping up to get some more water, or catching up on email, or anything else I can think of that would justify not actually working.

How did I do this?

I put a timer right next to my computer. I put in 60 minutes and pressed start. I promised myself that I would not do or think of anything else, just for that hour. I have a notepad and pen to the right of me, so when thoughts pass by like "check the weather forecast," "take out laundry from the dryer," or "email Maddie," I can write them down and do them later, not be thinking of them as I work.

It was surprisingly difficult to be 100% concentrated for the entire 60 minutes. If I wanted a mini-mind break, I would just stare outside at the snow, or take deep breaths, but try not to think of anything else.

But...I did so much! And I feel so good about it! Which, of course, makes me want to work more. It's so nice to actually say I did a complete hour of work, instead of 30 minutes of actual typing, 10 minutes away from the desk, 10 minutes emailing, etc.

Try this and let me know how it goes!

p.s. A big part of this strategy being viable is taking breaks. Which means that after every hour, you should be off for 10-15 minutes. Or even more. This gives you some time to recharge, and also creates a clear delineation of work/other things.

Vinegar&Soda...

2010-12-05T06:47:00.000-06:00

To wash your hair! I specifically didn't bring any shampoo/conditioner with me from Utah because at the start of this quarter, I was committed to giving the vinegar and soda hair washing strategy another go.

The idea? Chemicals bad for you(r) (hair) and the environment. Take it back to cleaning basics and to wash your hair, use a baking soda paste (made with a bit of soda and enough water to make it paste-like) and an apple cider vinegar rinse (like conditioner; add enough water to dilute vinegar).

I had tried this in the spring of my second year. I gave up because I just wasn't very happy with how clean (not) my hair was getting.

So I tried again, and gave up after three washes. My hair was greasy and I wasn't willing to sacrifice important 4th year interviews for vinegar and soda. I also realized that baking soda is a pretty harsh cleaning agent; I'm not sure that it's

better for my hair than some environment friendly shampoo.

If you have any questions I'd love to answer them, and I think this is a method that's worth trying out. It just didn't work for me and has now been replaced by this. Mint shampoo is so yummy!

twittear

2010-12-02T08:41:00.000-06:00

It is no surprise that new technology brings with it new vocabulary.

twitter-to tweet-a tweet

en español?

twitter- twittear- twittéalo (translated roughly as twit this/that!)

why is todo much more amusing in castellano?

Back in Utah!

2010-11-29T12:03:00.002-06:00

I am back home for five weeks, and I haven't been home for that long since summer after my first year.

It's exciting, scary, and comforting. My plans include swimming, yoga, reading, and cooking.

Jim would also like to have a December movie marathon.

This is all fine and great except that I still have papers to write! I am not a free woman until December 9th, and if anyone has ever told you that working at home is hard, they're right.

p.s. this is the view outside the kitchen window. Yesterday we proclaimed a snow day and did not leave the house all day. We also had a mid-afternoon ice-cream break. Ah, winter...

Lisboa

2010-11-28T07:22:00.000-06:00

Lisboa: proving that cities can have big, lush trees right in the middle of town. Take that, Barcelona!

lightbulbs + Barcelona + buy

2010-11-25T10:21:00.004-06:00

The other night, in one of my fits of insomnia due to Fulbright worries and irrational thoughts and fears about the future, I suddenly thought:

"Oh my god. What if I get the grant, and move to Barcelona, and everything's going great, until a lightbulb goes out, and Vero's at work, and I-don't-know-where-the-hell-to-buy-lightbulbs-in-Barcelona!!!"

Andrea suggested I google "buying lightbulbs Barcelona." And to keep it authentic to Spanish professor style, I should put "google" into the Google search bar, click on the first result, (google.com) and then, only then, put the search terms in.

[Every single one of my professors did this last year, regardless of age variation.]

I was able to sleep however, because surely "el chino" would have lightbulbs. El chino is exactly what it sounds like, "The Chinese (thing/man/etc)". There is also "el pakistani" and "el indio." These stores, which are a filthier, smellier, and less organized version of your local dollar store have just about everything you could want, although the pakistanis/indios are more grocery and food-based.

Once upon a time, before immigration, "chinos" were called "queviures," or life-goods. These were probably the same type of store, just run by your friendly, local Catalan. Yet, they were never called "el Catalan."

Interesting how that works, isn't it?

Alcañiz

2010-11-22T03:45:00.002-06:00

A view over the old quarter of Alcañiz, a pueblo of 16,000 people in the dusty landscape of Aragón. This is the most interesting, beautiful part of Alcañiz to me, but one that Ana would not let me venture into as all of the Romanians/black people live there. If you look carefully, you'll see roofs with holes in them and top floors with giant parts of wall missing. People do live there, and it's a shame not only that this medieval quarter has been completely ignored, but that people are left to reside there.

The main plaza of Alcañiz with the city hall to the right foreground and the fortress in the back.

The colorfully tiled top of the central cathedral worth of any guidebook picture.

And my favorite lady of Alcañiz, Santa Ana. In front of the very same cathedral on a typically windy day.

More pictures available at http://picasaweb.google.com/kkonkina/AlcanizEspana. I'll be slowly and randomly uploading all of my photos.

Racismo en España

2010-11-19T03:29:00.000-06:00

When talking about racism in Spain, a Spanish person will usually say one of the following things:

1. it's okay to be a little racist,

2. I'm not racist at all. 5 minutes later: "Oh man, I don't want to go down to the beach today. It's full of sudakas" (Sudakas being a rather crude abbreviation for "sudamericanos." Note the inner negative expression, "suda," from sudar= to sweat.

3. This is a classic educated person/professorial response that usually comes after 15 minutes of talking about how discrimination is really bad and how Barcelona is wonderful because there's so much diversity. "Now, I'm not a racist at all, but in my personal experience, all Romanians/Gypsies/Nigerians/Gambians/whatever new immigrant group that's popular to blame are thieves."

Perhaps these responses aren't so different from what an average American would say either. Here, many parents deny their prejudices completely, while not liking the idea that their child marry out of their ethnicity group.

However, I just read a ghastly picture comment on the front page of La Vanguardia, a free popular Barcelona newspaper. It shows a man peeing in a corner and two Catalan officials walking by. The caption? "Native Indian [referring to the indigenous peoples of South America] pees moments before Security Department officials pass by."

Jim says...

2010-11-16T03:25:00.000-06:00

this is the best picture I've ever taken. Agreement?

(I don't actually agree, but won't refuse the compliment).

*La Monda Biodynamic Farm in Arcisate, Italia, Agosto 2009

oaxaca: the eternal spring

2010-11-13T11:56:00.002-06:00

Oaxaca's climate is known as "Eternal Spring," which means its temperatures are usually around a near-perfect of 70 degrees.

Let's just say that as Chicago weather gets colder, (currently 37 degrees) heading down south seems more and more exciting.

And maybe there will be palm trees?

5 Things I Wish I Knew my First Year

2010-11-10T09:20:00.000-06:00

5. Don't say no to your friends.

Looking back on my experience, I can easily say that the people I met have been the best part of my university life. That does include professors, but it's also your peers that you learn the most from. This campus is full of really passionate, interesting people, and it's inspiring! There are people that give you hope for the world, and make you proud, just for knowing them.

Make social time a priority. Maintaining human bonds should be one of our goals in life. Being successful and smart and alone is just no fun. So say yes to that coffee date or lunch chat; the problem set will wait.

4. Eat! Sleep! Shower!

Seriously. Whatever you need to do to feel human everyday, do it. Whether that's taking a bath or drinking morning coffee and listening to jazz. There's a problem when you haven't eaten lunch for a week because you're just too busy. Schedule that time in.

3. The paper/problem set/whatever is due when you turn it in.

Try and get things done on time, but don't kill yourself over it. If you're putting in a rational amount of work in, there's nothing wrong with saying to a professor, "Hey, I have three things due on Thursday. Could I have an extension please?" If they say no, you shouldn't be taking their class, and actually, I don't think they should be teaching.

Have we never heard graduate students ask to skip class because of something they have to study for? They take these things seriously; let's take up their example!

2. If you're not being productive, stop procrastinating and move on.

This is by far one of the most useful productivity strategies I have learned. If you're working on something, can't get into the groove, and find yourself spending three hours on your Google Reader, stop. You don't want to spend four hours in the library on a Saturday night just pretending to work.

Acknowledge that for whatever reason, you can't write that paper or finish the assignment, and do something else. Like reading, or important emailing, etc.

1. No, it's not worth it.

Several times in your university career, you're going to be pushed to the seams of what you thought you could do. That's all well and good because then you learn, and grow, and become a wonderful person.

You never want to be doing something that you never wanted to do..

Like, ripping out pages from textbooks so no one gets the same material,

giving people the wrong answers to boost your score,

or going three days without toilet paper!

In my second year, I was on the brink of complete mental collapse. I remember calling my mom in tears, and she said, "This just isn't worth it if it lands you in a mental institution."

That's some of the best advice I ever received. Nothing at school is worth your physical, mental, or emotional health. Try and keep things in perspective. Whatever your troubles, it's not the end of the world.

2 weeks to go!

2010-11-07T09:55:00.000-06:00

On Monday I shall be starting 7th week of autumn quarter. I go home November 24th, which only leaves me two and a half more weeks in Chicago. I will not be back until late March.

Time has gone by more quickly than ever. My mom and her friend always used to say that when they were younger, time seemed to drag by, and as they got older, things moved along much faster. If that's the case, I really don't want to know what my time perception will be like when I'm 40. I barely remember anything of this quarter, except a fantastic birthday celebration and a bout of soy-chai drinking.

I wonder, does journaling speed up, or slow down our sense of time? If you have any ideas about how to slow life down, besides sit on a porch and drink iced tea, because that's not what I'm talking about, I'd love to hear them.

p.s. If you're a friend which I haven't seen yet, please contact me as soon as possible. Social connections are important, and I only have a short window before miles of distance separate us again.

new favorite spanish word

2010-11-04T10:30:00.000-05:00

yuxtaponer

that's right. it's the spanish version of "juxtapose".

2010-11-01T10:13:00.000-05:00

"A day is not a day if you don't step outside."

El árbol sin tronco (The Tree without a Trunk)- Francesc Serés

Interesting to think about, especially if you're the kind of person that may spend an entire day inside.. This has definitely encouraged me to get outside at least for a brief walk if I'm otherwise home-bound. In Barcelona, I do remember spending quite a few days inside; I think I was looking for solace, and comfort, and tranquility, in a city that was otherwise bombarding me with car honks, pollution, and too many angry people.

*I think this picture is from Tsarskoe Selo in Санкт-Петербург.

My Music Collection is Eclectic

2010-10-29T08:20:00.000-05:00

Proof: Missy Misdemeanor Elliott's "All'n My Grill," just came up after "Smile," by Nat King Cole. True, the "All'n My Grill" is Vero's contribution, and I'm deleting the song right now, but I do proudly have "Say My Name" along side Sinatra.

What I Did Last Friday

2010-10-26T09:20:00.003-05:00

7:45 am-wake up, wash hair

8:30-out the door

9-10- psychology experiment for $10

10:03- call career advising services to set up an appointment, but they do not answer

10:05-go to study abroad office to search for my Barcelona transcripts.

10:17- realize that I must go and no longer have time to wait for the person I need to talk to

10:35- arrive at post office, mail package to Verito

10:43- at home, submit request for online transcript delivery, and get ready for donor event

11:17- take bus to go downtown

12-2- donor event at University Club, which I never knew existed

2-2:15- walk north towards Trader Joe's

2:20- decide that I do not have time and that getting my cover letter looked at is more of a priority than getting oatmeal; get on bus back home

2:54- back home. print off cover letter and resume and go to career advising services

3:30- appointment with career counselor

4:25- back home, decide to take a break and eat salad before heading back downtown

5:15- back downtown, Trader Joe's, Whole Foods

6:30- Concert by the Sao Paolo Symphony Quarter at the Art Institute

8:40- back home, and exhausted. straight to bed.

Now, who says that people that only have class Tuesday-Thursday, are not busy on the other days of the week?

2010-10-24T11:51:00.000-05:00

I like slacks. I want an important job where people worry about me and I get to wear slacks everyday.

2010-10-22T11:42:00.000-05:00

People often ask me, "Why don't you have facebook?"

I say, "Like I need another thing to obsessively check online?"

2010-10-20T08:56:00.001-05:00

Only 12 to 15 species today provide most of the world's food supply.

-Harold Brookfield, Exploring Agrodiversity

2010-10-18T10:55:00.001-05:00

45% of agricultural production in the US is directly subsidized by the government.

Hm. That's a lot, but I somehow thought it was more..

Nutella isn't Organic, but it's Delicious!

2010-10-16T05:29:00.002-05:00

I don't know why I'm so keen on taking pictures of my produce, but I went to the farmers' market today, and am very proud of myself for doing so. I picked up some apples, plums, and an already bagged (!) assortment of lettuce greens.

Farmers' markets are always talked about as social places-places for community gathering and friend-making, outside of their food providing purpose. I read recently that people have 10 times as many conversations at a farmers' market than at a supermarket. This was very clear to me on my visit today as there were more people standing and sitting around and socializing than actually buying things.

This is a fairly small market, with about 10 vendors on average. Half are produce sellers, and the other half are prepared food sellers, which surprises me, and is something I have never seen before. Sure, it is organic, local, and/or vegan, but it is still prepared food that you take home in a plastic box. Strange thing to sell at a market. Perhaps that is due to the student population demanding easy meals, but that wouldn't account for all of their popularity.

There was a mushroom vendor this time, and also a flour vendor (which I've also never seen before). It's such a pity that I don't have a kitchen, although maybe also a good thing as I'd be inventing things with local mushrooms and freshly milled flour instead of going to class. Hehe!

Also, I ate an obligatory fresh pear and strawberry preserve crepe. It was as delicious as it sounds, but did not last enough!

*Blog title taken from the crepe stand.

2010-10-14T23:09:00.004-05:00

For the first time in my campus history, it began drizzling on me as I walked home from the library. Sky, did you not like my cover letter? Or was it so beautiful that you decided to shed a tear?

2010-10-14T21:46:00.002-05:00

Am I allowed to say that writing my cover letter for the Green Corps was actually kind of fun?

Matcha Green Tea Gelato

2010-10-13T05:56:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I was convinced by Emily to by some of the green tea gelato made by Ciao Bella, which according to her, is the best green tea ice-cream variation she's ever had. It is terribly creamy, and packed full of actual tea flavor, without being overwhelming. I don't know if it's the best I've had, but it really depends on what you want when you're sitting down, or standing up, to eat an ice-cream version of this wonderful tea variety.

Have you ever seen me eat this little ice-cream in two days?

Anywho, I am posting about this because shortly before I bought it, I asked Emily if she thought it would be okay and normally acceptable for me to eat a pint of ice-cream every week, if it was scheduled in with a movie, and instead of being a coping mechanism, a routine. I shortly decided that I didn't care; I love ice-cream and consider it one of live's wonderful perks.

I did decide to eat it in a civilized manner though, in a bowl with raspberries on top. I don't know if it was the very satisfying and full flavor, or the fact that by granting myself permission to eat it, I didn't feel a need to eat the whole thing, but I wound up only eating five scoops. (Scoops made with a tablespoon, so not a very big amount at all.)

I consider this a great achievement and hope that this is a start of a bountiful, but rational relationship with ice-cream, the god that sits in your freezer.

Minimalism

2010-10-12T11:55:00.000-05:00

Within one summer month in Barcelona, I moved all of my belongings four times across the province. There were multiple times when I sat down and laughed with tears in my eyes because I wanted to leave all of my stuff on the sidewalk and just walk away.

After all of those moving escapades, I promised to my mom that I would be traveling to Chicago with only one check-in bag.

Behold! The extent of my closet autumn quarter. I also only filled up three of my five drawers with clothes, as compared to a completely filled dresser, closet, and two stuffed bags under the bed my first two years.

This time, I didn't even wear everything I brought with me. May I say, minimalist packing is the way to go.

people pretending to do work

2010-10-11T22:42:00.002-05:00

It does not cease to amaze me every time I walk through the library that over half of the people that are on their computers are actually looking at youtube.

How Much for a Pound of Cheese?

2010-10-09T02:19:00.001-05:00

I've told this story about cheese so many times now that I figured I would make it a blogpost. You see, the day after I came back to the US, I peaked into the fridge to see what we had. I found about a two pound block of parmesan cheese, that cost my mom $12.99 at Costco.

It is a big, big, block of cheese. Like that one to the left.

This same block of cheese would have easily cost me 45 euros in Spain, or about $60.

Does this make sense, you say? Doesn't this perky Parma come from neighboring Italia? Sure does, but globalized food system means that it's cheaper in Salt Lake!

All I know is: I don't want to live in a country with expensive cheese.

2010-10-06T11:48:00.005-05:00

I wound up staying up until 2:54 am yesterday, and woke up at 11, thwarting my plan to go and finish all of my homework things in the library before my 12 pm appointment. This means that yoga time later on will be replaced by getting this done.

I should find an off-button.

Itch to Stitch

2010-10-05T02:07:00.003-05:00

Sentences, that is. I was lying in bed and thinking about how pleasurable this act of blogging is. So I jumped out of bed and got right to it. That kind of action-upon-thought strategy has been typical of these past two weeks back at the University. I've been thinking of a potential to-do list item, and writing it down and doing it as quickly as possible, or doing it in the moment.

This has lead to some serious productivity increases, and, get ready for a historical statement: me being one item away from completing a to-do list. My secondary list, of course, that contains items that have recently come about, as opposed to the mega-to-do list in which I take solace in because I don't feel an urgency to do any of.

I have taken towards schoolwork, applications, and morning rituals with an almost maniacal zealotry. I don't know what this will mean in the long term for my mental health, but for now, I am absolutely loving this productivity wave. I feel accomplished, balanced, in control. I just feel good.

Tiovivo?

2010-06-19T17:59:00.003-05:00

Just found out that a merry-go-round, or carousel, is "tiovivo" en castellano. Which basically means, live uncle.

Try explaining that one.

One of the Pleasures of Cohabitation...

2010-06-06T11:21:00.007-05:00

is having someone push up your glasses when your hands are occupied and they're falling off your face. Like last week, when Ana was washing something, and her glasses were sliding off, and she called me for help. It's the little things like that, like coming home to delicious cooking smells, that explain why humyns are such tribal creatures!

This picture is of my glasses (on the table because they were falling off of my face; no amount of cohabitation would have kept them up from the sweat and heat of Verona in the summer...it's actually not that hot, but my glasses slip easily) and of a Kinder Summer Version that I bought in the Verona train station, while waiting to take the train back into Milano.

I was thrilled to eat my Kinder, as it was awhile that I hadn't eaten one, and they were my favorite childhood treat! It was the first time I ate the summer version, which comes with a spoon to eat the white chocolate cream, which has two malty chocolate hazelnut balls floating in the middle. Sounds better than it is. I like my Kinder classic.

Language Barriers

2010-05-26T05:29:00.004-05:00

Il banco in italiano is a desk, while el banco in castellano can mean a bank, or a bench. La banca in italiano means a bank.

La noia in català is "the girl." Noia in italiano is boredom.

Suc, in català, is very similar to сок (pronounced as "sock" more or less, but with a differnt pronounciation of the "o") in Russian. They both mean juice.

Found by Parc Guell. Begudes in català means "drinks." So, "Drinks could drink." I'll admit that the addition of the "u" to what is supposed to be "cold" makes more pronounciation sense for me.

Red shoes, white socks?

2010-05-23T07:53:00.003-05:00

There is one problem with those red shoes...since they expose the foot, I obviously cannot wear my white socks with them. (See fashion disaster above). Nor my black ones. The logical answer is transparent socks, and so I ask Ana, "where can I buy transparent socks?" She laughs at me for a long time, and says, "Ksenia! You can buy them everywhere!!" And so I say, "Yes, Ana, but where exactly??"

"Everywhere!"

"Where is everywhere???!"

"Everywhere!"

"See, this is the problem. I don't even know wear to buy transparent socks!"

Really though- there's a chain store here that sells socks and tights, but it's expensive and I don't want to go. I don't want to go to a shoe store either, because I feel stupid just asking for socks. I also thought that the Chinese bazaar across the street (which sells basically everything) could be a possibility...or the grocery store.

But really, the easiest option is to steal transparent socks from Ana, because she has lots. Look! Happy red shoes:

How to spend 40E in 3 hours!

2010-05-20T08:36:00.001-05:00

4.1E---2 loaves of bread--- organic whole wheat, and bread with butter, sugar, and milk (that's what it's called..tastes like Russian Easter bread)---Baluard, a delightful french bakery in Barceloneta

12E---red shoes because the shoes I have have no arch support and are almost making me want to take the metro instead of walk---bought from the same Chinese shoe store, where I bought the shoes with no arch support...maybe a stupid decision, but these are very comfortable, cute, and cheap!

13.77E---B12 and iron supplements (B12 is really expensive!) because I've been extraordinarily sleepy and tired lately, and I think I'm not getting enough of one of these elements.

10.12 E--- kilo of couscous and kilo of chia seeds (7.99E!) from my bulk store. They have a minimum purchase amount of a kilo (2.2 pounds). I bought the chia seeds because I remember reading that they are the next superfood, although at time of purchase I could not actually remember why they are so good, and because they are usually outrageously expensive. (much more than $6/pound)

Maybe some of you have no difficulty spending 40E/$60 in three hours, but let's keep in mind that my daily budget is 10E. Anywho, these were all long-awaited, necessary purchases.

*Update*

This day was about a month ago, and I am happy to report that the bread was delicious and actually lasted us a long time (a week). The B12/iron pills have been helping a lot and I have much more energy, and do not constantly feel like napping. And! Chia seeds were used by various indigenous tribes around the Americas to sustain energy. [Sometimes, people just ate a spoonful of chia seeds before going on an expedition, or would only take a pouch of seeds and no other foodstuffs to sustain them..] They have lots of phosphorous, calcium, protein, and various omega acids.

Update about shoes in three days.

Mediterranean Diet

2010-05-17T13:09:00.004-05:00

You know you're in Spain when your roommate makes you write down everything you eat so she can keep track of your eating schedule. But Ksenia! This is your chance to live for a year with a Spanish persyn! You must take advantage of it so you too can have the food routines of those born on the sunny in-between of mountains and the seas. [Remember, the defining characteristic of the mediterranean, besides the temperate climate, is the nearness of the mountain to the sea. Yes, I did learn that in my L'Agricultura Catalana class.]

This is something that Ana considers a perfect, balanced, Mediterranean meal. Shrimp, and a calamari, squid like thing, with a side of tomato. Yes, they eat a lot of lean protein and fruits of the sea (what the hell is the equivalent of that in English??). They eat it with sides of vegetables, not starches. In fact, they barely eat starches with their meals, and if they do, it's for a weekend or other special occasion meal, and it will be for lunch, never dinner.

Notice the ample use of oil and herbs. Funny to note that the herbs come from Mercadona, a national supermarket chain. Those herbs suck, are completely dried out, and have zero flavor. Just sayin'... The shrimp are also probably from Iceland or something, as they were bought in this grocery store, not fresh from the market.

But do not be fooled by this love of olive oil, vegetables, and fish! The Spanish eat very little fruit, (maybe only for snacks or dessert) and eating sugary, refined starchy things is totally acceptable for breakfast and snacks. I.e. They see nothing wrong with cocoa puffs (or other healthier cereal) in chocolate milk/cocoa in the morning, or drinking a cup of hot thick chocolate, or eating a crema catalana every single day- at six! The official snacking hour! [It is actually official. Merienda=snack. Merendar=to snack. People are always pestering you with, "what did you snack today??"]

I actually really love this snacking custom, and will elaborate on that in a later post. Just wanted to point out- it's not all greens and grains around these parts!

Combining Contradictions

2010-05-14T12:57:00.005-05:00

How do we synchronize being for the separation of church and state, but also really loving state-sponsored religious holidays that get you off of work/school, and allow you to take long weekends? [This is called a puente in castellano, literally: a bridge. It's a big part of the culture, and everyone is always buzzing around talking about plans for the next puente. Officially a puente is when a holiday falls on a Thursday or Tuesday, so everyone [EVERYONE] takes Friday/Monday off, making a "long weekend" in other parts of the world look like a straw bridge compared to the titanium ones we have here!]

It's like really loving the flans that your roomate's anti-semitic, racist, sexist, and homophobic grandmother made you.

*I really appreciate the opportunity to eat home-made flan in Barcelona, and I don't actually think that eating her flan has anything to do with grandma politics. But at Christmas, she did say something like, "Ah, yes, well, he's a Jew...But he actually wasn't that bad of a persyn..."

Life Tip #2: Mix the Couscous

2010-05-10T15:53:00.001-05:00

What to do when you have bought low-quality couscous that brings shame to all couscous around the world, and makes you never really eat any relative of its family again?

Well, instead of throwing it out, and never eating couscous again, you should revindicate its name by buying better quality couscous and mixing it together. Easy solution, but it took me a while to figure out!

And just as a lovely life bonus for having such an idea as this: my couscous cost me 1,28 euros/kilo. That is a tiny bit over $2.00 for about 2 pounds. And it is damn good couscous. (And it's from the best bulk store in the world, which will probably get its very own post in the future.)

p.s. If you ever happen to be in Spain, (or happen to see this couscous around other parts of the world) do not buy it. Just don't.

Life Tip #1: Check for Mold

2010-05-02T17:12:00.001-05:00

Really. If you look to bread as a source of comfort, please check it for mold before breaking off a chunk. Nothing will break a carb-stuffing spell than finding mold on those starches.

Honey, I'm home!

2010-04-30T05:37:00.009-05:00

Yesterday I came home to find Ana on her bed. That is to say, she did not leave to Alcañiz as was planned. I get very excited, and say, "Ah, but I thought you were going back, but now you're staying, and I'm just so happy because I don't want to be alone!"

"You don't want to be alone?" she asks.

"No, no! I don't want to be left alone!"

Now everyone that reads this blog and knows me in real life should have just paused to not believe me. I always want to be alone, and I am the king of self-time, but I think I have converted to the benefits of co-habitation. How awesome is it to come home and be greeted by one of your closest friends in the world? Just having another humyn body there-that pulses, breathes, and cries like you do. It's very comforting.

In fact, since Ana has been spending a lot of time in the room lately, and I have gotten so used to her being here, last week when I came home to a dark house, I think the emptiness gnawed a bit of my soul away.

Could it be that Spain is converting me into one of those sociable, connected humyns?

*Look look look! One of the benefits of living with people. They can come home from the gym, and you can say, "hmm...I'm feeling like ice-cream and a walk by the seaside!" And they will go with you because sea-people like Ana can't say no to a port!

Arts + Crafts: Wallet Version

2010-04-29T16:52:00.003-05:00

This is my now three-year old University of Chicago wallet. We got it for free as part of our orientation package. It's kind of chungo now. That is to say- it shows its age, is a bit beat-up, and just not fun, flashy, and interesting, as I really think a wallet should be. [Think about it- a wallet doesn't have to match anything! That crazy color or pattern or design that you always wanted to wear but never dared to- it can be your wallet!]

I was seriously considering buying another one, but then I thought, "wait! why not just paint this one?" And so I did!

Saved money, saved time, and it was quite fun painting it!

*Although I will admit that when it rains and if I touch the wallet with wet hands, the paint comes off. But that's okay, because I can repaint it. [Speaking of which- I can just keep repainting it depending on my mood and preferences!]

Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. >> Refurbish and Repaint!!

Fútbol: it's serious

2010-04-26T16:37:00.004-05:00

Italian class is cancelled on Wednesday (7:30-9:30) due to a game between Barça and InterCity Milan. [They gamed last week, and Barça lost 1-2. (!!!)]

I don't really need to say anything more; I don't think.

Things you Should Know about Gay Clubbing

2010-04-11T08:04:00.010-05:00

Yesterday, for the first time ever, I went to a gay club. I've been to lots of girl bars and discotheques, with the presence of all members of the community, but never to a mostly gay boy anything.

Time left house: 23:45 to go to Bosc de les Fades [very cool bar hidden away at the end of Las Ramblas. Part of the Museu de Cera: Wax Museum. Translates into "forest of the fairies," and that's how it's decorated!]

Time entered house: 6:15. Average Barcelona return time, although maybe a little early. [Disco closes at 5:30, technically, 5:50ish in reality, with the song, "last dance."]

Time woke up: 14:14. Not bad.

Drunk: one sangria at the bar, as one cannot rationally expect any bar not close to Las Ramblas to offer sangria. [Proving once again that one does not need to drink to have a good time!]

I proceed with things you should know:

1. Shirts are going to come off. You already know this, but be prepared to be humbled by lithe and sculpted man abdomens. Shirtless count: 12 [Including 5 men who were dressed as construction workers. Typical, but true.]

2. There are lots of men that go alone. [Big shocker because being alone, and especially going out alone- even to a cafe, is definitely socially and culturally frowned upon in Spain.] Most of them don't dance and stick to the wall ogling others. You know what they're here for, and it's kind of sad and pathetic.

2a. A good portion of these men are African or Morrocan immigrants, who are obviously going out in secret, and may well have girlfriends or wives. Visibly ashamed and uncomfortable of who they're attracted to, (read: sexual orientation) they obviously belong to the MSM group. (Males who have sex with males, but do not identify as neither gay nor bisexual). Looking at them makes me want to cry.

2b. Some of the men that go alone are straight and creepy. In one of the rooms, there was a very nerdy looking man (not that there's anything wrong with that. I say that to indicate that he looked otherwise normal and creepy problem-free.) who would walk around, get too close, and stand there staring at you. In the last room we were in, there was a man that came up to me in plan, "let's dance." His eyes were terribly red and had an air of, "I'm about to pass out and I'm thinking crazy, drug-induced thoughts." We quickly shooed him away.

And not that I saw any of this, but I'm going to remind you that if anyone touches you when you don't want them to, (especially if you're a girl and they're a man) you should feel just fine slapping them right across the face.

3. Speaking of drugs. Stereotypical, but also sadly true. Cocaine snorting count: 3.

4. If you go with a gay boy, you will be dragged up to the dancing platform/stage. Don't be shy and enjoy the moment. You are young! Congratulations, now you can say you have danced there.

5. There are still more straight people hooking up than gays. I don't know why. It's strange, but stereotype-defying! So there!

6. It is normal to see two boys come together, kiss for a while, and go their separate ways for the rest of the night. One of them may be sad after this happens, but usually it is all okay. Different when compared with a lesbian setting where every kiss brings a joyful celebration or a bitter fight.

7. "Eres muy guapo" ("You are very handsome") is the common way to meet someone. "I know," is a common response.

And things that apply to any type of clubbing:

1. You should help people in heels that are falling.

2. If your arms are bare, there's a good chance you will get burned by a cigarette. It will hurt. It may leave a mark.

*I hope this doesn't leave a bad impression...I had a jolly good time. Important to note that many people (straight ones chiefly among them) choose to go out to gay clubs for the better music, better atmosphere, and generally less creepiness.

Internet is important

2010-04-08T06:28:00.006-05:00

I laugh at and despise the fact that a slow (or non-existent) internet connection is what prevents me from contacting and feeling closer to my loved ones.

*Yes, this door is a metaphor. [Toledo. I could promise to write blog posts about my visit there, but you proabbly wouldn't believe me.]

The Future

2010-04-07T20:31:00.012-05:00

*What follows is a highly persynal, revealing, perhaps even slightly shocking blog post. Well, why not?

This night I have let myself think about the big, scary, FUTURE. That actually shouldn't come as a surprise of any kind, because even those that only know me through my blog should already know that one thing I'm really good at is worrying about what's next.

So here are some of the things I realized, thought, and cried about:

- 42,9% of Italians live within a kilometer of their family home. How nice, and quaint, and lovely, I think, that they put family first. That is their priority, because they are Italiani. Enough of that! I want to be one of these people too! (I mean, aside from just being Italiana). I remember when all I wanted to do is travel around the world, commitment-free, and hop from place to place. You can meet people everywhere, I thought, and every place has its charms. That's true, but at some point in life, you have to start prioritizing matters..and let me tell you, it is simply not acceptable to only speak to your mother once a week.

- I'm really happy and generally calm and supported right now, but I miss my mom more than ever. If I do stay in Spain/Europe/this side of the ocean, I don't know how the hell I'm going to survive seeing her/Jim only two-four times a year. Quite honestly, that thought kills me. And if I do have kids, they absolutely have to be a part of their everyday lives. I'm not letting some gypsy womyn feed my child cow milk! Which could maybe mean an early retirement, selling the apartment in Russia, and buying a flat with a coast view? [In order to sleep at night, my brain has to come up with some sort of potential solution plan for possible problem in the future #501...]

-Today Ana broke down over how much she feels like an outsider here, and over her general hatred of Català. She claims that if you don't speak Català here, you're treated as a second-class citizen, and really, she's most probably right. Anywho, she was complaining about how people look at her as a "strange bug" for not dressing like a hippie, (the girl leans towards the Madrid style of things..basically associated with fascism around these parts. will expound on this in a later blog post) and how she feels like a foreigner in her own country, and how she will never be Catalana no matter how hard she tries and I cut in with, "You think they look at you like a strange bug?! How do you think they look at me? You'll never be catalana, and I will never be Catalana, nor española! Ni de coña!"

-Of which- half the time people look at me like I am an actual extra-terrestrial. I might as well walk around with green skin, and purple tentacles spewing forth, and a red banana for a nose! I'll admit that I can easily get away with people mistaking me for a native Spanish speaker, (just not from their town) but old folks from the pueblo look at me like I'm just the damndest thing I've ever seen. Funnily (or not) enough, the way people perceive (and act, and speak with) me mostly has to do with my way of dress. Talk about pressure! The choice of what scarf to put on that day, if any, marks the line between blending in with the crowd, and complete and utter humiliation. Try wrapping your head around that one, kids!

- There exist high prices to pay for moving my life here. Feeling like a stranger most of the time, the Català barrier, perhaps not being able to do the environmental work that I want to do, paying ridiculously high prices for rent in a city with no trees...Aside from the fact that I am very much physically removed from most all of the nearest and dearest to me! Chinga chinga chinga! Хуй хуй хуй!

- Would living in OR/Washington/Vancouver really be that bad? Having a job that I love and feeling competent? Being close to family and friends? Ridesharing hybrids to go hiking over the weekend? Being surrounded by green crunchies, calmly biking around, and shopping at the local food coop?

-When my mom and Jim get older, would moving back to Salt Lake be that bad? Living in a house with a lawn that deers and bunnies regularly visit? Being able to walk out the door and up the mountain at anytime of day/night? Going to public movie screenings and discussions at the library, and having some of the best Vietnamese food this side of the universe right under my nose?

-Realization: I don't have to move back to Russia to prove/solidify my Russianess, or to be more Russian. I am what I feel, and I don't have to defend or justify my identity to anyone. I carry my motherland with me.

-Would I settle for living in México, so that Vero could speak (one of) her native tongue, and so I could be closer to family and friends?

Most of you probably think that this is all crazy talk for a 20 year old, but I recently thought about all of the visions that I had for my life before this stage, (two labradors and a beach, hanging laundry outside, open windows that let flower scents in, pickling cucumbers, etc) and I just want to make sure I'm on the right path.

Trying to figure out the logistics of uniting love, family, place, friends, career, persynal happiness. And oh dear, it ain't easy!

* This is the most lovey, "aw, family" picture I can find right now... Don't seem to have a picture of the three of us, which is a situation that needs to be resolved asap.

Sun in Barcelona

2010-03-09T02:35:00.005-06:00

Let's make a comparison, shall we?

Yesterday:

Today:

The good news (?) is that there is still snow, so it hasn't just melted overnight due to massive heat today, but I assume it will melt by tonight. But the streets should be clean already, which will be nice.

*The weather prognosis predicted snow today, and there is not a cloud in the sky. And..Ana's classes are still cancelled.

The glorious sun has returned, and I hope that sooner rather than later, we'll realize just how fragile and not reliable that tendency is.

Snow in Barcelona

2010-03-08T16:49:00.006-06:00

It snowed today. Not just a few windswept flakes from the Pirineos. Real, big, cold, heavy, and wet snow. At first I didn't want to believe it, but then when the city was covered and I could barely see the bus station across the street, I just couldn't deny it.

I have been on the verge of crying the whole day, and not just after I braved the slush outside to get to my Italian class- only to find my profe coming out of the room because I was the only one that showed up. Saturday it was warm, sunny and sweaty. Today is Monday. Two days after. Besides the fact that it is Barcelona. It is not supposed to snow here. Ever. We are 15 minutes from the Mediterranean sea. We are on the Mediterranean sea. This is not okay and basically means that we are all going to die.

[It's one thing to think about global warming in theoretical terms, and hear about the predicted climate changes. Well, I can't think of a clearer real-life example than this one. ]

It is however funny to watch Barceloneses maneuver themselves in the snow. As the majority of the population has never seen it in the city in their lives, the city is paralyzed. There are only seven functioning buses, (throughout all of Barcelona) and most university campuses and schools have been closed [with two schools that are keeping kids overnight because they're in the mountains or something and the trains have stopped running). Also, people are still walking with umbrellas, (because it's like rain- it's just white) and many have broken out their ski clothes. (I wear ski clothes when I go skiing, and there's snow there...Now it's come here, so logically...)

Also, before I forget, Happy International Womyn's Day to everyone. Let's celebrate us more often, shall we?

Procrastination Post #3: or another reason to love siestas

2010-02-15T17:26:00.005-06:00

I discovered today, after a zurriburri (it is a word. Ana's father says it is.) of bureaucracy, matriculation troubles, and too much public transport, that the principal reason behind my great love towards the siesta is the following:
You know when people say, ¨just go to sleep and start anew tomorrow because it will be a new day?¨Full of new opportunities, fresh perspectives and (hopefully) a more positive attitude? Well, a siesta provides one with all of these benefits, for a very small, and enjoyable investment.

For only 20 minutes of your time, you get a new start! The ability to wake up, redo things, forget the first part of the day if you have to, take advantage of the remaining sunlight hours. (Ha. I do have more than you. Ha.)

Whatever happens in the morning, even if you decide that you really just don't want to live anymore, just take a siesta and...
start over.

*Because Che napped too...And when he was too busy shooting people and buying Rolexes to siesta, he was drinking maté, which I also recommend.

Procrastination Post #2

2010-01-29T17:49:00.005-06:00

Maybe we are so eager to love dogs because they are incapable of saying anything back. That is to say, we go all goo-goo and ga-ga, and say, "I love you so much you Pascally-woo," because there is no risk. No fear of rejection, no waiting for a reaction that pleases you. They jump on us and lick our face, and we take that for reciprocity, even if all they really care about is when they're going to be fed.

Just a thought. Regular posting will be back soon-promise. Just have to get this Oaxaca application out of the way...

Спасибо!

2010-01-07T08:17:00.003-06:00

I just wanted to give my mom and Jim a message of appreciation. I guess it would apply to my whole family, (which, uh, doesn't extend very far beyond them) but mostly, I want to thank them for the opportunities that they have given me, the doors that they have opened, and the support that they continue to provide.

I was looking at pictures of the time we spent together in España, and came across this one of my mom and I on a bridge in Cuenca. This is a damn cool place, and a damn cool picture. We're all terribly lucky enough to have done and seen some damn cool things together.

All of this. My summer in Italia, my year here, my life in Chicago, etc, would not have been possible without them. So before anyone else- my UChicago scholarship donors, kind strangers, friends that put up with manic messages and phone calls- I have to thank them.

So grazie, gracias, esker mila, thank you, obrigada, merci, спасибо, and, Jim, how do you say that in Mongolian again?

I love you guys.