France~ Languedoc or Catalunya Nord

The bay at Portbou. There was a beautiful little walk along the rocky seaside here. It made for a nice mid-day stop on the way to Colliure and then Perpignan.





Colliuore was trés picturesque. The old part of town was alleys and walkways of a hilly and colorful seaside town. I took more than twenty photos of just colored houses. The church boasted a lighthouse tower and the chateau or castle, slightly in ruins, had been built-up over centuries of French-Spanish disputes. Adri eagerly read me all of the history of the disputes and complementary new additions to the castle on the tour.




One of the small mountain towns, not yet arriving to Prádes.

A few photos from a mid-October weekend excursion to southern France. We saw Portbou unprecedently, the Spanish border town, because the trains in France were shut down due to a general strike protesting the change of retirement age. We had planned to see several different towns the next day as well and only made it to two. But the Pyrenees are lovely, good wine, French people, brioche (my favorite French sweet pastry aside from "Pan au chocolate"), and small towns with medieval architecture in a mountain backdrop. I went with my flatmate, Adrià, who makes an entertaining traveling partner.

October~

My first week in the school was darling. I regularly see pupils around town and they shout, "Cari, hello!", "Hello!". When I ask, "How are you?", they usually turn towards each other and say, "Que me ha dit?" or "What did she say?" In class I have them repeat me and ask them to use full sentences in English when answering me, but they usually don't have the habit to use full sentences in their native languages much less in English. Communicating to them to use a full sentence, or "complete phrase" which sound more similar to "phrase completo", is a hassle depending on their level of English. I am required to speak only English with the students and most think I only speak English, with a minimal level of French. I make sure they write down vocabulary, repeat what I am saying and answer me with complete sentences, but sometimes they just don't understand and start repeating my full question. It can turn out quite comical.
I went to Barcelona to apply for my residence card, the process of which I had started in the Basque Country this last spring. I went to one place and was sent to another in a completely different neighborhood from the first and there I was told I would need to make an appointment. The security guard at the front was no gentleman, and It turned out frustrating. Currently, I believe I am waiting for a response from the government delegation regarding where I need to go and where exactly my foreigner number "trámite" lies in the ether. The earliest I could make an appointment was for November 5th and I am hoping it will not be too late, or that I get a response via email before too long and can return somewhere without an appointment. I tried to ask the security guard about whether or not I was in the right place and he just sent me away telling me I needed an appointment and he couldn't help me. I spent some more of the day seeing Barcelona, but with my slowly-healing ankle wasn't much cut out for playing tourist. I purchased an exercise practice notebook for my Catalan class and the funniest bookstore attendant asked me for a face tissue. It didn't appear that he was in special need of any but said he had given his to a co-worker. I left him with my half empty mint-scented package. He was very appreciative.

A picture from Plaça de Catalunya

I spent a lovely day out in the countryside with Ciona and "els nens" or the children. We went looking for mushrooms in the forest. This year is a great mushroom year because it has been so wet. He found lots of mushrooms, but Balbino, the father picked through them and only half of our goods were worthwhile to eat. I ate fabulously while there, homemade wine from their own grapes, their lamb cooked over an open fire of hot coals, ali-oli made from scratch, fresh cow's milk from the neighbors and I came back to Malgrat with a handfull of fresh-picked herbs for cooking and teas. They had a bay-leaf tree and an asundry of other things in their garden, including a fig-tree! Random factoid: corn in Spain is left to dry on the stalks and then picked. Els nens, Cristina and Joan, are really darling and asked me to stay for the whole long weekend. Spain is fabulous regarding vacations and has a long "bridge" weekend. Tuesday is the celebration of a virgin and so Monday for the schools was given off too.

Escole & hopsitalet

My Catalan family here is hilarious. Kristina is hyperactive at home, but one wouldn't recognize her at school. She was so well-behaved and timid in class, even though I had said hello. Joan is calm for a 9 year-old boy and similar in disposition to his older cousin Andreu, but the oldest cousin, Adriá, is supposedly more like Kristina. Kristina said yesterday that I'm like part of the family and we have a mutual trust. It was quite sweet and made my day. Being part of the family does mean that she is comfortable to be her crazy self around me.
So I rolled my ankle two blocks or so from the house on my first attempt of a run here in Malgrat. I didn't even make it to the beach and came limping back to the house. Adriá, my flatmate, is a physical therapist so had looked at it a few times for me, but after it did not improve despite icing, rest and ibuprofen, he said to go to the hospital for an X-ray. So I called my insurance company about places to go and they said they would call me with a place where I could go. A few hours later someone called me and said a taxi would be on it's way to take me to the Creu Groc, or Yellow Cross instead of Red. I was somewhat stunned and asked if I would be paying and they said I wouldn't have to pay for anything. So Paquita, the mother of the house, went with me and told me that it was quite quick. They poked my ankle, took an X-ray, and then concluded it was just a ligament and wrapped me up tight. After 5 days I will have to return to the hospital to have my "bandage" or temporary cast taken off. I can't get it wet, so will have to shower with a bag on my foot. I'm about to go experiment with that before heading to work for the day, but last night was just bizarre. It was such a change in attention from the temporary travel insurance I had in Euskadi to front door taxi service. Then we were laughing about it and some other funny word things in the kitchen and I accidentally closed us in, because the kitchen door locks from the outside. Una pasada!
I am just observing at the school and am a little anxious to start with the little ones next week, as the reigns are quite loose and there isn't really any certain material I have to use. The classes are all over 20 students and full of excited rambunctious children as well as quiet timid ones, but who all love to say "Hello" to me when they see me, with a big wave.

Malgrat de Mar

Here are a few more pictures from Malgrat and the darling students of mine. They are quite well behaved with me but their older cousin said they are with me. Also they will speak Spanish or "Castillian" with me only when there is no one else around. It is their second language.
I will be living in the bottom floor apartment of the family house that I arrived to the first night. The family has been very welcoming and there's a good mix of independence and community. It's great when prayers are answered.

Benvingut a Catalunya, Passeu passeu, casa meva és casa vostra

Welcome to Catalunya! Come in, come in, My home is your home!
My tutor and the school director picked me up from the airport, after a few hour delay, first from the French air strike, pffh, and next from my luggage taking forever to come out. I waited a half an hour for my bag and then another full HOUR for my guitar because it had to come out of the "special baggage" terminal. I even had already gone to the lost luggage services and they just hadn't brought it up. Ay... Thankfully that was the only hiccup in the journey and I arrived and was chauffeured to a place I believe I will come to adore throughout the year, Malgrat de Mar. It may turn out rainy and humid, but it is a small "grandecillo" seaside town that booms on tourism during the summers. I will be an auxiliar in one of several primary schools that are here, and it only has just over 100 students, ages 6 to 12 and one class for each grade.
My first day, Paquita, a darling mother who lives above where I am staying and where may be "home" for the year, took me on a tour of Malgrat, really a 20 minute walk in a five block radius through downtown. I went to the townhall, the phone store and the bank. A tactile elderly gentleman changed my watch battery for about 5 USD and even put it on my wrist for me. I didn't fully understand his question because he was speaking in Catalan and grumbled Spanish. I don't encounter such friendly elderly folks in the USA.
Everything is in Catalan; the children who live upstairs, who are students at my school, shy away from English, but speak Catalan and not even Spanish in my presence; they are quite darling and I look forward to seeing the rest of the school on Monday. I will learn Catalan this year! The posters and everything on the street is in Catalan. At the supermarket, all of the price tags are in Catalan but because I went to a chain that is in all of Spain, the products are the same I know of from previous years and with the same mix of labels in Spanish and sometimes Portuguese or another latin language. It is good to read the labels and the price tags for a vocabulary lesson.
"Tinc calor" means I am hot and I am not too hot here but very comfortable just basking in the sun so far.

Yesterday afternoon I met the daughter of the director of the school, both named Blanca and went with Blanca, the daughter, to Barcelona to meet some of her friends. It was a festival of Barcelona and there were loads of booths of NGOs and volunteer organizations so I spoke to the RedCross as a backup for volunteering at the Consulate in Barcelona.
In Barcelona there are always street performers along the Ramblas, or I guess you could say place that people ramble or stroll. The first two photos are from Barcelona and the last three are Malgrat, the church, a street view (can you see the sea in the background?) and the sea. :)

Summer and home 2010

I had a lovely summer in Coeur d' Alene and the surroundings areas of my hometown in Idaho. It is a lovely place to call home. Here are a few pics from home, my nephew being the first of them. My darling friend Laura did pose for me outside of the Moscow Co-Op, one of my favorite places from my college town because it's so comfy and healthy. My employer Atsuko and the darling book-keeper Warren, from Candy O'Briens. The panorama is my home north of Coeur d' Alene. Many exciting things, including my sister expecting and my nephew learning to walk! The few months passed so quickly as I spent the summer working and playing and prepping for the next big adventure, which became Catalunya...
Although home and everyone there I do miss you already!

lovely May weather.

Jaunt by the flysch...


Zumaia beach


The saint of Zumaia, appearing very saintly.


Walking through the old part of town.


The flysch and Extitxu enlightening me about something regarding the geological importance, the rock samples taken out of the holes and other fun facts.

We had a full last weekend with gorgeous weather, I started Friday at the beach in Deba, a short train ride away from Eibar, a Saturday morning hike through Arantxazu hovering over Oñati, a bit of fiestas in Bergara and a relaxing Sunday in Zumaia, a beach town, with a jaunt near the "flysch". This is a site that mainly geologists are interested in, according to Ibon, Estitxu's man. Estitxu told me that they do not normally have such lovely weather in May and this was the first time she could remember swimming in the ocean in May. The pics here are thanks to Estitxu and Ibon as well because they lent me their camera! I finally do have a camera with a memory card that works! Thanks to my Dad and to the other American Paul. Thanks a bunch to all of my colleagues for hosting all the exciting excursions and for such a great year!

NIE

So, to live as a foreigner, there can be a lot of bureaucracy, if you think domestic taxes are bad in the US, well the paperwork and foreign fee payment systems can be quite a bother without patience. I did hear this week though that you have to apply for a visa just to visit the United States of America, so I think it is easier for us to come to other countries in many factors.


A view out of the bus window in the AM. Paul said, "It's just fog. It'll burn off".

Today I took an early AM bus to Donosti, about 45 minutes and a 6 euro bus ride away, to go to the Subdelegación del Gobierno. My friend Paul also had to renew his NIE (Número de Identidad de Extranjero or permission to live here) for the next year, so we went together, he more photocopy-prepared than I and with a little more hudspa, my Dad's word, but I am unsure of the spelling.

After not having enough paperwork despite carrying all that the Catalunya autonomous Community had told me would be necessary, I went across the street to the photocopier/newstand, came back and asked for another number and got in.

After our "trámites" were submitted a supervisor told our attendants that we would have to go to the separate communities to apply for our NIEs. But alas, and thankfully he was too late, so we don't have to travel to Barcelona and Madrid which would be quite a hassle.

So they give foreigners in our situation an official letter to re-enter the country and then we can come back when our US summers end, if they end abroad that is.

After submitting the first application in all this process we had to walk down the street to the bank, that only accepted the fees/taxes for these applications from 9 o'clock to 10 o'clock am. We had to ring a bell to have the door opened to the bank and then the young gentleman who helped us told me I could pay with credit card. A few moments later when I pulled out my credit card, he told me that I would have to pay in cash. So Paul offered me a momentary loan. The banker was speaking on the phone to his sweetie in a flirty voice all the while helping us. He told the other end of the line that he was hoping they were having a good day and other silly things. All the while Paul is sitting in the chair next to me telling me about seeking out latin and Spanish places in Philly after his travels through Latin America and about how he feels like this is less surreal and more just real life and that he is supposed to be here. He also had found out the name of his attendant at the government office and told me he wanted to get him a gift because he was so nice. So Paul is smiling about life and in a little nostalgia but completely enjoying the present moment, all the while our bank cashier is somewhat intimately speaking to his sweetie or interest on the phone and behind us a group of several bank cashiers, and one or two customers are trying to solve some other issue. It was funny. As a foreigner I thought it was bizarre that the gentleman in front of us was just chatting up a storm on the phone while he did some sort of double count of our change and made change twice and then condensed it into one lump sum, making himself busy I think. But at the same time there were foreigners across the table from him who could have understood perfectly. A sort of surreal moment for me, part of the latent culture shock maybe, when things about the foreign land I am living in still leave me with a bit of inquisitiveness.




Birgit met up with us and we had a picnic at the beach. We found a spot and then a large machine came through and the police told us to move to the other side of the beach. It was funny. Sadly the "fog" hadn't fully burnt off, but we did get some sun. And enjoy a torta vasca. So I think all is mostly done with my NIE, I just have to visit again in June and hopefully all is good. papers and bureaucracy are international, but thankfully due to the technology of our highly specialized society we can travel more easily than when things were "simpler".



I have just taught my second-to-last-week of classes and still at moments feel like this is all surreal.

Eibar pics

A few pics of life in Eibar, there was an international food fair and the next weekend an internet fair and a Galician fest. On the swings, or columpios, is the lovely Birgit, my colleague from the language school, the Austrian lector for the Deustch classes.


On my birthday my students very sweetly organized a lunch with a funny card and a beautiful Eskulan brooch that they gifted me with the huge bouquet of bright flowers.


My colleagues and friends had also pampered me with some thoughtful and funny gifts. I am feeling like I am finally starting to feel more at home here, my last full month. I am not seeming to have enough time to see all of the things that are waiting at last minute to be seen and experienced...

Basque Sports

A Basque/Spanish word that I have recently learned is "morrosco", which is the definition of a hardy Basque mountain man or woman. The video/photos describes exactly that. Please note, the Basque women can be as or more morroscas as the Basque men can be.
I had ventured out in the rain to catch some live Basque Sports presentations, and quizzically looked on at a few hours of chopping and throwing and diverse weight-lifting activities.
A very common Basque sport is Pelota, or hand-ball, and other more recognized sports in the US that are shared here as well are Rugby, Basketball, and of course, soccer, or fútbol. Here in the Basque country however sports include an asundry variety of activities, such as tree trunk splitting with an ax in minimal chops, chain saw carving/crafting with efficiency, lifting and hitting metal things and hay-stack tossing. I gained that the aim in most of these was strength, efficiency/speed and precision, with strength being a dominant factor. The videos were taken a short walk away from my apartment, in Plaza Urkizu, where the Galician festivities continued on into the weekend.
This young grasshopper is the archetype of morrosco, from a strapping young age of 10 years.

A day in Gernika

Anavi met us in Amorebieta and we had a lovely full day excursion starting with the Peace Museum in Gernika, followed by a stroll and an excursion to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe. It was great to see Gernika with a guide whose grandmother was there during the bombing and here some of the history of the Biscay region from someone of a Biscay lineage. Anavi was a great teacher for the day even though she was on her weekend break ;). One of the most delicious pintxos I have had in Euskadi, a duck sautee with a sweet berry reduction drizzle....I can't do the name justice, but it was delicious.
We had lovely weather mostly as the pronóstico (or the weather forecast) had been for rain. It was a little clouded over, but did not pour. Anavi was a great guide and fabulous chauffeur. Here are pictures of the tree of Gernika, going through Gaztelugatxe, and the "alrededores". Lovely day, thanks Anavi! And thanks Birgit for the pics!

Miwa's visit

I don't have many photos, but these three are thanks to Miwa and Paul. At the airport, from the balcony of our hotel room in Bayonne, France and the other at the airport, the despedida :(... The second two are both cell phone shots ;)

Miwa visited and it was so wonderful! We had day trips in the AM (because I had to work in the afternoons) during the week. With a whirlwind tour of Bilbao, Donosti-San Sebastian and Gernika, the week flew by. I wanted more time in all of them and wanted to be able to show Miwa more, as it was her first time in Europe and the Basque Country.
We spent Friday night in Bayonne, famous for the Fete de Bayonne, chocolateries, and the cathedral. It was May 1st on Saturday so nearly everything was closed, as it is a national holiday, Labour Day, but we did have some delicious chocolate Macaroons and saw a political parade. A gentleman spoke to me in French and then in Basque and gave me his handout for the parade. I told him, “Merci”. He indicated the website for us to come to a party or event or something.
The hotel was adorable, Hotel Des Arceaux right in the middle of downtown. Everything was very audible, but the receptionist were darling and helpful. Miwa and I visited several different chocolateries and I really am a fan of macaroons now. There was also a dinner by the river with an interesting experience of trying to understand the waitress in French, with a few awkward moments, and the large morning marché by the river, Les Halles, where we bought fresh strawberries, deliciously sweet, so sweet several Worms had already feasted before us. But we followed it by some brioche and macaroons and were craving veggies by the time we arrived back in Éibar. A week full of site-seeing and good jamon and laughter. Miwa was learning some very useful Spanish and a few French things, such as "equipo Simpson" or team Simpson, she could use it in the street.
It was great to play tourist and remember some of the wonderful things in the area where I currently reside, but it was even more of a treat to have a soul sister to spend a few days with. (Many of my closer friends here as males.) I absolutely adore Miwa’s artful humor and ability to make so many situations hilarious. She is an adorable Japanese woman with a smart head on her shoulders and a good heart. Thanks for all the laughs Miwa!

un Robo

Our apartment was robbed in April and I almost don’t feel safe anywhere anymore, but am getting over it. I still am constantly concerned about my computer, which was the only one not stolen from the apartment because it was with me, at work. Also, I have been quite the light sleeper at night because I hear everything in the typical Spanish building that my “piso” or apartment is located in. The robbers had to have been watching us and entered through our front door in an hour window when we were not home. They took several valuable things but seemed to have done a quick job. My underwear drawer was gone through and I wasn’t sure about some of my important papers. They left no fingerprints that could be detected by the investigators that came over, but had used Steeve’s socks and even took my favorite eco-tote/shopping bag to put their stolen things in. They did weird things like open a game board that I had sitting on my desk but didn’t take any of my jewelry. I think now the unsettling thing is knowing that I was being monitored for timing and such. Our piso is on the ground floor and people could jump through our windows if they really wanted to and we left them open, so we are closing everything, locking everything securely and being very cautious. The apartment seems a little darker now and I am looking forward more and more to home and what I know to be a little more security. Thankfully the first weekend I would have been home alone a friend came and stayed and then a girlfriend came the next week to visit. I am still getting over it but am relieved I wasn’t there and they haven’t come back. Sadly, I have few pictures to post for these things because now my camera is gone.

Hasta la Próxima, Burgos

The video is from right before returning to Éibar. It was funny to watch all of my videos in a row because in most of them I say the direction I came from, the direction I was going and that it was gorgeous or lovely or incredible. My narration is quizzical in this snippet as well. Hope you enjoy.


Friday 9th April 2010
So yesterday I came back to Éibar, I sort of felt disappointed because I really wanted to keep walking, but woke up and my ankle/shin hurt. I spoke with Alli via Skype yesterday and decided it isn’t worth a permanent injury to continue. So I came back after a coffee with Alissa, who reminded me of something her Mom had told her, not to be too stoic, because that was just stupid. Also, to love what is, because that is what is. If we have the freedom to do so, why not?
A package was also awaiting from my Mum when I got in as well as Internet availability, finally!!!

In Burgos

7-april-2010
Yesterday our hospitalero, José Manuel gave us a concert and played a few flamenco songs on the guitar. He is quite the character and this AM at about 7:15 AM he woke us all up and said that we were going to miss the train and that it was time to get the train “en marcha”. He put on some really funny old school music done in Spanish.

I am staying in Burgos an extra day. It does kind of hurt to walk on my left foot and I wonder frustrated why tendonitis forms.
Our hospitalero didn’t accept our offer to clean and goes about singing and happily cleaning. He seems like a great example of grace. Yesterday on the camino I walked slowly and Shetil—or something pronounced and phonetically spelled likewise—the retired Norwegian Lutheran pastor—said out loud, “Is it freedom to always follow these yellow arrows?” (that mark the path continuously for pilgrims so that no weary wanderer loses himself). I said, “Yeah, good question, I don’t know”, leaning towards the negative of that. He said, “Well, really if I am choosing to follow them, that is freedom because I am choosing it. I could choose not to, I could choose to follow my own thoughts every day that change and wander, and really what kind of freedom is that?” He followed it by saying he was just thinking out loud. I thanked him for doing so. I think his commentary really speaks to a Christian lifestyle because it might be someone’s idea of freedom to live however I think I want but if it changes and is inconsequential, then what good is that? It makes me want to be a Lutheran kind of. Well, in any way, I don’t like to attach a name to myself because I despise stereotypes so much.
I went and saw a sung mass with Alissa and our hospitalero, José Manuel. Then we walked around Burgos, well just to the bank, the pharmacy and then to the Cathedral, which was beautiful but very very cold. It is a World Heritage Site and was first built in 1000 or so but has undergone several renovations and expansions. It was huge, impressive…
We went for pintxos and a warm tea afterwards and met a bar-owner, Marcos, who has a brother working as a chef in Miami. An older couple blessed us and asked us to remember to pray for them when we reached Santiago.