Academics, Politics, and Food

¡Hola! I realized I haven’t yet had the chance to write about academics abroad and political questions I’ve fielded from Spaniards while here. I’ll be attempting to tackle both of those topics in this post. And naturally, I’m also planning on blathering on about this week’s culinary highlight and talking a bit more about food culture here.

I think it’s important to dispel a common misconception regarding academics abroad: studying in a foreign country is not akin to a semester-long vacation, nor is it an academic cakewalk. Of course, some of my American compatriots see things a bit differently; there are always those who see their time abroad as a perfect chance to constantly get drunk and jet off to Paris, London, Ibiza, etc. every weekend. But if one is trying to be somewhat successful academically, the jet-setting, dance club-frequenting lifestyle is generally not the way to go (shocking, I know).

I will say, though, that the academic workload here is definitely less than what I’m used to at Whitman. I have 5 classes here and consistently have a bit of work for each of them. But the workload really is quite manageable, and professors here are very accessible if one is attempting to seek extra help outside of class. I also have significantly fewer hellishly long essays than I do at college, which makes for a rather lovely change.

However, there are certainly academic challenges here, including the fact that 4 of my 5 classes are in Spanish. This can make life difficult at times, especially when attempting to comprehend obscure Spanish terminology in my Islamic Art and Architecture class that I don’t even understand in English. And occasionally, one of my professors will also engage in the abhorrent practice of cold-calling students. This is always particularly special when my attention has wandered a bit, forcing me to jolt to attention when a professor looks intently in my direction and inquires if “Yack” would like to respond to their question.

Being an American in Spain also entails regularly fielding questions and comments about dear old President Trump. These are probably the situations in which I feel the language barrier most acutely. I would love to be able to have in-depth discussions regarding the US political situation with Spaniards, but unfortunately any conversations about general Trumpian wackiness require a grasp of the Spanish language and Spanish political vocabulary beyond that which I presently have. For now, I have to content myself with simply labeling him an “idiota” and noting that he’s flagrantly abusing the power of his elected office. That much, at least, I can manage.

In other news, Cedric and I enjoyed the breakfast of champions yesterday morning. Josefina treated us to churros con chocolate at a revered local establishment, Café Fútbol. Knowing that our appetites our considerable (to say the least), she generously purchased 4 orders for the 2 of us. It was not a breakfast for the faint of heart. The towering mound of churros emerged piping hot, golden, and a tiny bit greasy from the deep fryer; we seized ahold of each one with a napkin and gave them each a good dunking in our personal mug of rich, molten chocolate. Freakishly delicious.

It almost goes without saying that food is an incredibly important part of Spanish culture. Josefina is good friends with another IES host mom and, although Josefina doesn’t know the names of the IES students in the other homestay, she knows all about their eating habits, including the fact that one of the other students is a rather picky eater – he apparently doesn’t eat either seafood or salads (truly appalling). And when Josefina visited her mom the other weekend, she told us that her mom made sure to ask if we were eating well. Josefina promptly reassured her mom that we were doing quite well from a culinary standpoint; I would have to wholeheartedly agree.

 

Granada is gorgeous.

Sunrise hike!

Homesickness & Food

Hello all! This week I wanted to write a bit more about food (of course) and also talk a little about homesickness abroad. I hope it’s somewhat interesting and enlightening for you all – no promises, though.

This week’s culinary highlight was a superb rice, squid ink, and seafood dish courtesy of Josefina. Lunches here typically happen around 2:30; when Cedric and I arrived back from class around 2, we immediately noticed a delightfully pungent seafood smell emanating from the kitchen and knew we were in for a treat. The dish was quite lovely and very rich; if I remember correctly, the seafood interspersed within the rice included shrimp, octopus, and mussels. I wolfed down my heaping first plate and immediately grabbed seconds; Cedric followed suit. After Cedric had grabbed his second helping, Josefina walked over to the pot and noticed that there was still a bit of food left. She immediately returned to the table, raised her eyebrows at me, and, in a commanding tone of voice, informed me that there was more. Naturally, I immediately scurried over to do my sacred culinary duty – I scraped the pot clean.

Unfortunately, this magnificent feast happened to coincide with my weekly tennis practice, a rather regrettable coincidence. My bulging belly certainly did me no favors on the tennis court and made the prospect of tracking down far-flung tennis balls distinctly unappealing. We also ran some sprints after practice and I was most grateful that my massive meal didn’t end up making a second appearance.

In case you’re reading this blog as a prospective study abroad student, I also want to touch on a topic that I think is important in relation to studying in a foreign country: homesickness. Am I homesick? Absolutely. Has that sentiment impeded my ability to thrive here and enjoy much of what this city (and country) has to offer? Absolutely not. Of course, there are good days and bad days here; there are days when attempting to communicate in a foreign language with professors and my homestay family feels like an insurmountable barrier. But there are also days filled with unexpected language breakthroughs and enjoyable moments – for me, one of those moments was an extended conversation with an elderly Spanish gentleman at my gym who told me about his career as a cardiologist, his battle with cancer, and his family. We also talked about our shared love of California – Sequoia National Park and the Golden Gate Bridge are special places for both of us.

In a weird sense, I actually feel lucky to be homesick. My immediate and extended family includes some uncommonly amazing people who I feel lucky to have in my life. I also have an incredible and close-knit group of friends, both in Pasadena and Walla Walla, and I really miss seeing them every day. They’re all pretty great and if I didn’t miss them, something would probably be wrong with me. On that cheery note, adios!

 

This is the cathedral/mosque of Córdoba – we visited it yesterday. It’s architecturally stunning; essentially, the Christians decided to assert their religious dominance by constructing a massive church in the middle of a mosque. But instead of demolishing the mosque (which would have been typical), they retained much of it and plopped their cathedral in the middle of it. In this photo the lower part (striped arches) were formerly part of the mosque. The rest of the photo (windows, ceiling, etc.) is of the Christian changes made to the mosque in order to fashion it into a cathedral.

This stunningly beautiful picture is from a hike I did this morning in our local Sierra Nevada mountains. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn in order to be back home in time for lunch, but it was very much worth it. I do love my solitary nature walks!