Two weekends ago I took a trip to the Basque Country (País Vasco in Spanish) with my Peace and Conflict class. The Basque Country is an “autonomous community” in Spain, just like Madrid, Cataluña (where Barcelona is), Andalucia, Galicia, and others. When Spain was established as a democracy in the late 1970s, they chose to forgo the state system like we have in the United States and instead separated into autonomous communities. They essentially function as our states, with local governments as well as national representatives to the Spanish government. The only difference is that each autonomous community can choose what powers they want to have, and what powers the Spanish government can have. This means each community’s relationship with the state is different.

The Basque Country is an interesting case because of the history of the Basque peoples. Their culture and tradition dates back hundreds of years, and there are those that “feel Basque” rather than “feel Spanish”. Many of these people feel neglected because nobody asked them if they wanted to be a part of Spain, and now Spain’s laws are being forced upon them. (Part of the Basque Homeland is located in France, but in class we only referred to the area located in Spain). As a result of “not feeling Spanish”, the Basque Country has received almost total autonomy from the Spanish state in terms of laws and taxes.

However, there is still conflict. If you’ve heard of the terrorist group ETA, then you’ve heard of the Basque Country. ETA is a leftist-extremist group that wants to secede from Spain. While there are political parties that also support this secession, they do not condone violence from ETA. They would prefer to have a referendum and a country-wide vote to determine the fate of the Basque Country.

I could write about the arguments for and against this secession for days – in fact, we spent weeks on it in class. But instead of boring you with the details, I’ll let you read about it on Wikipedia instead.

On the trip, we got to speak to politicians from the Socialist party (PSOE) and the right wing party (PP, that is currently in power with Zapatero as president). The most interesting interview was definitely the last one, where we spoke to a man named Xavier who does not identify as Spanish at all – only as Basque. Although he speaks Spanish, he prefers the Basque language, Euskadi, and wants his children to speak it as well. Although he is not associated with ETA, he said that he understood how some people could feel as though violence was their only hope.

He was extremely clear in his explanation and his opinions, and was incredibly smart. But I couldn´t help but have the same feeling towards him that I had towards the two mainstream politicians – none of these people were willing to concede their point, or to even think about things in another manner. I take it for granted that, even in our tense and polarized political environment in the United States, Republicans and Democrats are still willing to work together on issues, and make compromises when necessary. Even though this sometimes leads to ineffective policy, they’re not ignorant to other opinions. I think we take our democracy for granted, complaining about partisan politics and bureaucracy and lobbyists, but compared to Spain we get a whole lot more accomplished by working together.

The rest of the trip was spent sightseeing and touring different Parliaments. We traveled to four different cities – Vitoria, Bilbao, Gernika, and San Sebastian. We went to the Guggenhem in Bilbao, saw the inspiration for Picasso’s Guernica painting, and walked along the beach in San Sebastian. (Sidenote: I highly recommend San Sebastian as a summer vacation – the beach was gorgeous, there was great shopping, the people were really friendly, and the food was AMAZING.)

First day in the Basque Country, overlooking the mountains

The path we walked to get to the mountain view - the fall colors were gorgeous

Loving the statue of Ken Follett - his book, Pillars of the Earth, brought a lot of tourism to Vittoria

We toured the ancient cathedral in Vittoria - the helmet is for security during the restoration

City center in Vittoria during the sunset

View outside of the Guggenheim museum in Bilbao

Me, Haley, and Lineasha overlooking San Sebastian at night

Part of the conch shaped beach in San Sebastian

River view in San Sebastian

I was in Istanbul, Turkey this past weekend, so I’ll be updating about that with pictures soon. Thankfully the “Turkish toilet” that we had to deal with in Morocco has been replaced with Western toilets… I appreciated that.

This story requires some background context, so it might get a little long. Just bear with me.

On Monday, I finally decided that I HAD to get a haircut and I couldn´t wait any longer. It was getting out of control. After getting a recommendation from the women in the program office, my friend Jen and I headed to the peluqueria (hair salon).

En route to the salon, we were stopped by two women – one with a microphone and the other with a TV camera.

Reporter: Can I ask you girls a question?
Me: Uhh… We speak English.
Reporter: But you speak Spanish too, right?
Jen: She does! She does! (Pointing to me)

Jen proceeded to take 10 steps backwards while I was stuck talking to this woman. (Remember, this entire conversation is taking place in Spanish, and I´m a little caught off guard and not really sure what´s happening).

The reporter proceeds to tell me that Sarkozy (President of France and the European Union right now) and some other famous politicians have been rumored to wear elevated shoes while on television to make themselves appear taller. My response to this? “Ohhh… You mean like Tom Cruise?!?!”

Then the woman asks me why I think they do this. First of all, I don´t even know if this is true or not, or if she´s just joking around. Second, if it IS true, why would I know why? Third, even if I DID know why, I probably wouldn´t know how to say it in Spanish. So I laughed a little and responded with, “Umm… maybe because being taller makes them seem more masculine?”

Not the best answer, but not the worst either, and I think my Spanish grammar was mostly correct. I thought I was off the hook until she followed up with another question. Because I was so flustered, I didn´t entirely understand the question. I THINK she asked me if I thought that the Spanish president should do the same thing so that he could regain control of the Parliament, or something along those lines. Now let me explain the difficult (and also hilarious) part of the question.

The Spanish president´s last name is Zapatero, and just as we refer to the American president as Bush, the Spaniards just call him by his last name. Now, the Spanish word for shoes is zapatos, and zapatero literally translates into shoemaker. So you see how it was a bit of a play on words when she was asking me about Zapatero´s zapatos? Funny for Spaniards maybe, but not so easy for me.

By this point, I was REALLY confused and not sure how to respond. I didn´t know who this woman was, I didn´t know what TV show she was from, and I had no idea what Zapatero should do with his zapatos. So I laughed uncomfortably, told her I had no idea, and she let me leave. In the United States, my nonsense answers and awkward laughs would have been cut from the program entirely and no one would ever see my ridiculous interview.

Apparently, that is not the case here.

(Here´s where you need some background information). On Monday and Tuesday mornings, I hold a conversation group in English with high school students at a school down the street. They´re learning English, so I take a group of them into a separate room and we just chat about life, movies, travel, school, etc. Since the staff apparently thinks I´m amazing and a certified teacher, I get special perks. Like a key to the elevator so I don´t have to walk up 7 flights of stairs like the students do

On Tuesday, I was waiting for the elevator – by myself – in between classes. One of the teachers who I had never spoken to before also came to wait for the elevator. He turns to me, gives me a strange look, and says to me (in Spanish), “I saw you on TV yesterday!”

Oh. Dear. God.

I felt my face turn bright red, asked him to repeat what he just said, and immediately died. I kept saying over and over that I didn´t understand the question, it was a disaster, oh my goodness I can´t believe they showed that on TV! He then proceeded to tell another teacher what happened, and I died all over again.

I now see how hilarious it is that I was on TV in Madrid and had no idea what I was saying, but I couldn´t believe that he saw me and RECOGNIZED ME. (Remember how I was on my way to get a haircut? That means I hadn´t brushed my hair that day because why would I need to style it when the hairdresser was going to do it for me?)

Needless to say, I´m still slightly embarrassed but mostly amused. It will make a great icebreaker story someday, don´t you think?

After my trip to the Basque Country this weekend (stories and pictures to follow soon), I came back to my house to discover two new American girls living with us.

My señora had mentioned that there might be two girls coming to stay with us. What was lost in translation, however, was the fact that they would be there for the rest of the semester.

When I signed up for housing, I knew I wanted to live with a Spanish family and I knew I wanted to live alone, for a few reasons. One, after having my own room and my own space in Boston this summer, I knew I would have a hard time transitioning back into having to share a room. Since the school could not guarantee that we would each have our own rooms, I decided to fly solo.

Second, and more importantly, I didn´t want to speak English. Ever. My señora doesn´t know any English, aside from the names of her favorite actors. I prefer it this way because it forces my Spanish to improve, and that´s what I´m here for. Only 2 out of my 4 classes are in Spanish, so I wanted to expose myself to the language as much as possible.

Now that these two girls are here, it becomes a bit more difficult. One of them is 2 years younger than I am and doesn´t speak (Spanish OR English) very much. The other one is a year younger than I am and speaks Spanish just as well as I do, but CHOOSES NOT TO. Last night the four of us were in the kitchen having dinner, and the new girl was telling me stories about school and studying and friends, and was speaking entirely in English. Great for the girl who doesn´t know Spanish, but my señora had no idea what was going on. Every few minutes I would turn to her to tell her what we were talking about because I felt so bad.

Technically I´m supposed to tell the school that this is going on, because apparently the host families are not supposed to do this, but I don´t want to get my señora in trouble. She´s been so welcoming and accomodating, and in the grand scheme of things it´s not THAT big of a deal. I´m traveling every weekend until I leave, and there aren´t that many more weeks left. The girls are nice, and I can continue to speak in Spanish even when the other girls aren´t.

Things might get ugly, though, when we start fighting for the bathroom…

A good friend of mine from Tufts, Kevin, is studying in Aix-en-Provence, France. It just so happened I had a free weekend and found a good deal on a plane ticket, so I hopped the border from Spain into the South of France. He’s fluent in French, and has his own apartment and everything. The town of Aix was ADORABLE – cafes and pastry shops and stores everywhere. I would have been fat and broke if I was studying there!

I just happened to pick a great weekend to come visit. Kevin’s class was taking a trip to Marseilles, which is about a half and hour drive from Aix, and going sailing on the Mediterranean. Kevin signed us up and surprised me the night before. It was amazing – I never thought I would spend three hours sailing on the Mediterranean!

The port in Marseilles

Steering the boat!

The prison from the Count of Monte Cristo

Relaxing on the boat with beautiful scenery

Me and Kevin at the front of the boat

We found a cove - crystal blue water

After sailing, me, Kevin, and three of his friends from his program headed to dinner. Long story short, Kevin had met a guy from Luxembourg who had connections at the best pizzeria in Marseilles. These connections were good enough to get us a reservation at a place that doesn’t take reservations, and the wine started flowing. The meal was delicious, and when we finished three and a half hours later, Kevin and I raced to make the last bus to take us back to Aix.

The weekend went by really quickly, but there was sailing, wine, and French pastries. What else could I ask for?

My World Economy class took a field trip to Morocco for 5 days to study the economics of a rapidly developing country. Immediately I noticed the juxtaposition of old and new within the city – the airport we landed at in Tangier was brand new and gorgeous, but the cars in the parking lot were pretty beaten up.

We started our adventure in Tangier, which is in the northern part of Morocco. Morocco is only 14 km (or roughly 10 miles) away from Spain, so many Moroccans migrate up to Tangier and wait around for the perfect opportunity to sneak into Spain.

Our first stop was a women’s center in Tangier called Darna. Even though Morocco is a fairly liberal Muslim country, women still have a difficult time living without the support of her family or a husband. Darna offers classes on computers, sewing, and French so women can enter the workforce. We ate lunch at Darna and met a few English-speaking Moroccan students who hung out with us for a few days. They were all really great and open to our questions about their culture and habits.

The view of Tangier from the roof of Darna

The view from the casbah in Tangier

Lauren, Jess, and I with Paul, our program director/professor at the casbah

Lauren, me, and Jess at the lighthouse to watch the sunset

After spending Wednesday night at a hotel in Tangier, we headed to our next location, Rabat – the capital of Morocco. On our way there, we made a few sightseeing stops. First up – the camels. We’re driving along, and all of a sudden our driver pulls of onto the side of the road. We look out the window and see an enormous stretch of beach and, a few Moroccan guys, and some camels. Yep – we took turns and rode camels along the beach. Sidenote – camels smell AWFUL and getting on/off is incredibly scary.

Camel riding!

My World Economy class pet

After the camels, we got back on the road and drove to Asilah. Asilah is a quiet, quaint little beach town that is a major tourist destination. We only spent a little bit of time there, but the view was gorgeous and the pastries were delicious.

The view while walking through the town of Asilah

The ocean view of Asilah

The town of Asilah

After Asilah, we headed to Rabat. In Rabat, we stayed with a Moroccan host family. We were in groups of three, and each family had at least one English speaker. Our family was fantastic, and Fatima, our 17-year old host sister, spoke perfect English. They were so nice and welcoming, and the food was amazing.

Fatima, me, Lauren and Jess chatting after dinner

Where we slept. Most Moroccan families have a room like this where guests stay

The main room of our house

On Friday afternoon, we visited a local Moroccan school in a bad part of Rabat. The school served the slum neighborhoods, which are full of poor immigrants who build shacks that may have electricity but no running water or indoor plumbing. The children are generally under-educated, and this school was started by a group of men who wanted to help this population. After they showed us around the school, they took us into one of their homes for some Moroccan pastries and a little dancing.

Lisa, me, Lauren and Jess at our Moroccan party

The hosts dressed Kamel up in traditional Moroccan wedding garb

One of our hosts - this guy could not stop singing!

On Saturday, we left Rabat for a smaller town called Chefchaouen. En route to Chefchaouen, we stopped in a tiny village and spoke with Mohammed about the growing industry in Morocco. Plants such as lavender and other medicinal herbs grow wild in Morocco, so small villages are learning how to use this to their advantage and make a profit.

Hiking around the hills of the village

We finally made it to Chefchaouen and spent the night there. We did some shopping in the markets, and then headed home Sunday morning. It was a great trip – I loved Morocco, but coming back to Madrid made me appreciate the Western world and it’s modern amenities a little bit more!

The view of Chefchaouen from the roof of our hotel, where our room was

For my birthday, my parents gave me the money for three Real Madrid tickets. Two of my friends from Tufts, Erica and Scott, came with me. Both of them are studying abroad through other programs, but we’re all in Madrid. I thought it would be a nice little Tufts evening – we even got drinks beforehand at a TGIFridays because we’re so American.

Getting ready for the game to start

The Real Madrid crazy fan section - they sing and make noise the ENTIRE game

Me and Erica before the game started

The three of us - Scott, me, and Erica

The Saturday right after my birthday my Dad flew to Madrid. Although I like to think that he dropped everything to come wish me Happy Birthday, it was more a product of convenience than anything else. He had to be in Brussels for business that coming Monday, and it would have been a shame to be in Europe and not stop by to see me! So he left Sandy at home with Jackie and Elaina for a girls weekend and came to hang out with me.

I met him at the airport bright and early, and we headed to the hotel. The first order of business (as it generally is in our family) was food. We walked through Sol and down to the Plaza Mayor where we sat and had some coffee (Dad learned the hard way that “free refills” don’t exist in Europe) and bacon and eggs. The weather was great and it was still early so the Plaza wasn’t full of tourists.

Plaza Mayor

Plaza Mayor

After breakfast, we headed back towards my house so Dad could meet my Señora. She took us to a Chocalateria near the house for churros con chocolate, a Spanish favorite. These aren’t churros like you can sometimes find in the States – those are Mexican churros. Spanish churros generally don’t have cinnamon or sugar on them – they’re just deep fried. They come on a big plate and everyone gets their own cup of melted chocolate. You eat them by dipping the churro in the chocolate, and let me tell you – it’s delicious.

Stole this picture from the internet to give a visual image

While I’m really glad Dad got to meet my Señora, the whole experience was exhausting. Dad doesn’t speak any Spanish, and my Señora doesn’t speak any English, meaning that I had to translate for 2 hours. It was good practice though!

After churros, Dad and I headed to El Estadio de Santiago Bernabeu, where the Real Madrid fútbol (soccer) team plays. They offer tours during the day, and we got to see the memorabilia museum, the field, the players bench, and the locker room. It was awesome!

Checking out the view...

Trophy row in the Real Madrid museum

I made him smile.

Ground level with the amazing field

Sitting on the players bench!

They have a hot tub jacuzzi in the locker room

After the tour of the stadium, we headed back to the hotel for the second favorite family activity – a nap. Thet jet lag had caught up with Dad, and my birthday festivities had caught up with me. We napped, showered, and then headed to dinner with Erica. We went to a restaurant called Lua that the director of the Syracuse Abroad program recommended. It was quite an interesting experience – there’s no menu. The chef goes to the market every day and buys what’s fresh and creates new entrees out of his purchases. There are seven courses of small portions, and I have no idea what we ate. It was definitely nothing that we would have ever ordered off a menu, but it was all really good.

Sunday morning we headed to El Rastro, a giant outdoor market that takes up entire streets. We were on a mission to find a Real Madrid jersey, and to pick up some birthday gifts for friends at home. We stuck it out through the rain and were quite successful. After El Rastro we headed back to the Plaza Mayor for a lunch of the most expensive pizza.

After lunch we headed back to the hotel for another nap. Dad couldn’t even make it up to the room before he fell asleep.

Sleeping in the hotel lobby

I wasn’t feeling very well, so I slept for an extra hour while Dad grabbed a Starbucks and read his book. We grabbed dinner in Sol and then headed across the street to a bar to check out the Steelers game! Sadly they lost, but it was great to be able to watch the game in Spain.

Dad headed to Brussels early Monday morning, but I was glad he got to come visit. Now Sandy has to come!

Turning 21 in Europe is nothing special, since the legal drinking age of 18 is very rarely enforced. Luckily for me, I was with a bunch of Americans who were determined to act like 21 mattered.

The festivities started on September 17, since Jessica insisted that we celebrate my “12:01″ as well as my actual day of birth. We went to the grand opening of a new club, Gold, which ended up being pretty close to my house. They advertised an open bar until 1:30am, so it was packed when we arrived. At approximately 1:35am, the place had emptied out quite a bit. We stuck around to dance for a while though.

Jess and I dancing to American rap music from 3 years ago

Wednesday was fun, but Thursday is when we really celebrated. All of my friends and I met up at a bar, Chocita Sueca (and no, I don’t know what it means. Swedish something). The place was empty, which was great because that meant there was plenty of space for us to let loose.

Jen and Justin showing off their moves

Auyon, Alyssa, and Josh

My best friend from Tufts, Erica, is studying abroad in Madrid also, but through a different program. I was SO excited that she was able to come out and celebrate with us, even though she had to be up early the next morning for a weekend trip to Sevilla with her school.

Erica and I at Chocita Sueca

After the bar, it was time for the real dancing to begin. We headed to one of the best clubs in Madrid, Pacha, to finish off the evening. There are a lot of discotecas in Madrid, but Pacha is really great because a lot of Spanish people go there. In a lot of the clubs, especially the ones near Sol (the touristy downtown area) there are a lot of Americans, and the Spanish guys that are there are creepy. Pacha is really nice and all of the people we’ve met there have been awesome.

The outside of Pacha

We danced all night in Pacha, and some of the Spanish friends we made met up with us also. Jess’ best friend from home has cousins that live here, so we’ve hung out with them a few times. They’re the ones that brought us to Pacha the first time, so we thank them for that!

Me, Erica, and Abby at Pacha

We left around 5:30am when we thought we would fall asleep in the club and when our feet hurt so badly from being in high heels for 7 hours. I don’t know how the Spanish girls do it… It was a great birthday though, and I’m looking forward to being 21 in the States where it actually matters!

The dancefloor inside of Pacha

Every year, Madrid organizes La Noche en Blanco (The White Night/Night in White). It’s a giant cultural festivital and there are events located all over the city. The museums stay open, the Metro is open late, and there are people EVERYWHERE.

The girls at the beginning of La Noche en Blanco

We had planned on seeing a man tightrope walk between two buildings, but unfortunately he postponed his performance. The weather was awful – cold and windy – and I’m sure he was nervous a gust of wind would blow him over. Once we realized that it would be a while before he tried again, we decided to change locations and see something else.

After spending a LONG TIME searching for bathrooms for people, we end up walking to Chueca. Chueca is the trendy gay neighborhood in Madrid, and is also home to Madrid’s best tapas bar, El Tigre. Although the bar was packed, we managed to get some drinks and tapas. The drinks at El Tigre are enormous, and the plates of tapas are even bigger. For €6 I got a copa (large glass) of sangria and a big plate of potatoes and croquetas. I was starving, so it was perfect.

In large groups of people, like we were traveling with that night, people start to get antsy to leave and see something else. We head out of the bar and run into The Sun in the middle of the plaza.

The Sun in Chueca

The Sun was a collection of heat lamps. I’m sure there was some purpose to it, and the sun kept “rising and setting”, but on a cold night we couldn’t have cared less. We huddled in front of them like we were at the beach.

Lauren, Tara, and Jen in front of The Sun

There were people camped out in front of The Sun on lawn chairs, just having a beer and enjoying the warmth. While we were hanging out in the plaza, another group of Syracuse Madrid students met up with us, making us a group of about 20 Americans. You can imagine what that would have looked like when we all busted out singing along to some Journey.

Jim rocking out to some Don't Stop Believing

By this time, it was nearly 4:30 am. People started to get cranky and cold, and no one could decide where to go. Some people split up to go to an outdoor techno concert, and some people headed indoors to a bar. Jen and I chose to head home, which ended up being quite the adventure since there were NO AVAILABLE CABS. I think the general consensus of the evening was that it was fun, but we didn’t feel the need to do it again. I think it’s one of those events that you need to have 2 friends with you and a plan of action. All in all, I’m glad I went. It’s no secret that Madrid has quite the nightlife and I’ve definitely been out until 5 am before (and later), but it was crazy to see the city FULL of people at that hour!

La Noche en Blanco

So I’ve pretty much caught up in all of my major event blog posts, and have added some pictures. It’s only a fraction of the nearly 1,000 pictures I’ve taken so far, but hopefully it gives you a sense of where I’ve been. I’ve also gone through and added photographs to the posts I wrote without my laptop, so you can now see pictures to go along with the stories from Amsterdam and Heidelberg. Also, if you click on the picture thumbnail, you can see a much larger version of the picture.

School started two weeks ago, and it’s already flying by. Four of my classes have weekend trips, so I’ll be traveling to Morocco, the Basque Country in Northern Spain, Turkey, and Andalucia. In addition, I hope to meet up with some friends in Greece and spend a weekend with my Tufts roommate, Marissa, in London. I’m trying to get it all settled now so that the flights don’t get super expensive!

My 21st birthday is on Thursday, and I think we’re all going out dancing in a discoteca to celebrate. Turning 21 isn’t as big of a deal in Europe as it is in the States, since the teenagers here can legally drink at age 18. A few other kids on my program have birthdays soon too so we’ll combine into one big night.

Two days after my birthday, on Saturday, my dad is coming to Madrid to spend the weekend! He is going to be in Belgium for business that following week anyway, so he’s leaving a few days early to come see me. It’s a good thing too, because with all of my travel plans I’m not going to spend much more time in Madrid!

I think that’s all for now. As always, feel free to call my US number (it rings on my computer at no charge to you) at 847.852.4656 or e-mail me at jenninmadrid[at]gmail[dot]com. I look forward to hearing from you!

In Madrid, in the Plaza de Alcala, near the Parque del Retiro