Finding the Andaluz in Fuengirola and the Costa del Sol

In 1787 Thomas Jefferson wrote:

“Spanish. Bestow great attention on this and endeavor to acquire an accurate knowledge of it. Our future connection with Spain and Spanish America will render that language a valuable acquisition.”

(Taken from U. Virginia website)

Wow, who knew that in 1787 Jefferson had such foresight into the importance of the Spanish language. It's ranked number two in the world of native speakers, and number three in total number of speakers. Don't worry Mr. Jefferson, I'm working on following your advice, 223 years later.

Continuing on that note, I'm just starting my grad school applications and, boy, this process is hard! I'm trying to decide which schools I should apply to, which professors I might be able to work with, what to say in my personal/academic statements. I officially started my application to University of Oregon, and I am hoping to make progress on a few others as the week comes along. I need to narrow it down to about six schools. So far I am thinking of U of Oregon, Boston College, U of Michigan at Ann Arbor (PhD program only, no masters), U of Virginia and maybe Berkeley, U of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, U of Georgia at Athens... And then there is Washington University at St. Louis and also CSU Long Beach (although I am pretty sure I am not going to apply to CSULB, even though one of the greatest professors is there... sigh.) It's such a balancing act - the school, the program, the professors, the courses, the resources.... Poquito a poco, I guess, and it will all work itself out. It always does.

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Changing subjects completely, as I said in my previous post, Fuengirola is this bizarre cultural-fusion place. My experience here is already very different from that of my year in Sevilla. In Sevilla there are Americans everywhere. Here, while many people speak English, I get the feeling that the only Americans are the auxiliares and that's about it. We have yet to meet another American who is not an auxiliar. Yesterday we had our orientation in Málaga and finally I felt like I was in Spain. The buildings were old and reminded me of the Andalucía I know, not the resort town I am living in. I walked through the streets staring up at the balconies above me, made of wrought iron, some with single-paned windows, most likely originals. For once I heard only Spanish when walking though the streets, and not accents from anglophone countries. Although I had never been to Málaga before, I felt like I was in a familiar place. We didn't have too much time to explore, so I'll have to go back and really see the whole city. Luckily it's only a 45 minute ride from Fuengirola, and at 4.40€ round-trip, I'd say it's pretty worth it.

We got back to Fuengirola and stopped at Cien Montaditos for dinner (again - I really love that place, especially on Wednesdays because it's euromania and everything is only, yep, you guessed it, 1€). La feria had just begun only hours before so we walked over to tour the recinto ferial. Unlike Sevilla, anyone can enter most of the casetas, which is great because that's where so much of the action takes place. While in Sevilla most of the music is sevillanas, here there is a great diversity of music. We followed our ears and soon the sounds of the clapping hands of the people tocando palmas and the guitar filled the air. In we went to one of the casetas to watch about a dozen people dancing las sevillanas, each adding her or his own flavor to the dance. The environment was friendly and we appeared to be the only non-Spaniards in the room. I felt like I could have stayed there watching all night. I always find flamenco, especially sevillanas so entrancing. It's that kind of music that isn't just sounds and words, but rather a melody that comes from the soul. It's passionate and full of life. I'm looking forward to going back again today. My friend from Mt. Holyoke Rachel (and fellow Romance Language major) is coming this weekend for la feria, so I am looking forward to seeing her. She's doing the same thing as I am, but through CIEE. She's living in La Linea, which is the town right next to Gibraltar. Pretty sweet.

Ya he llegado!

A little something I wrote while on the plane (SFO>BDL):

It’s September 20th and I find myself making my way back to Mount Holyoke. Albeit I have yet to arrive, it doesn’t feel odd going back to school. I’m lucky, really. Not only is it the GEMELA Conference this weekend, but it’s also the Inauguration of our new president, Lynn Pasquerella. And not only are these two major events going on this weekend, but I am also having a mini-reunion with a number of friends from the class of 2010! It should make for a great week back on campus. I’ve had a great transition out of Mount Holyoke… coming home and attending an alumnae event, having a chance to spend time with classmates who now live in San Francisco, and now this coming weekend with many close friends. Plus, two of my other good friends will be in Andalucía, Spain with me teaching there as well. I couldn’t have asked for a better situation.

A little update on the summer… I worked for six weeks at camp as per usual. It’s a good steady job, and while not a very sophisticated job, I prefer it to retail or the corporate world any day. Additionally I house-sat, dog-walked, cat-fed, plant-watered, babysat, and transcribed almost the entirety of my time home. I spent time with my family, went to Tahoe and to Las Vegas (with my best friend). In other words, it was a successful summer. I even got a jump-start on the grad school process and took the GRE.

Now I am making my way to Mount Holyoke to work with my professor at a conference on early modern women writers in Spain and the Americas. I will have a chance to meet many of the top scholars in the field, whom I may work with in graduate school. I am so thankful for such a wonderful opportunity.

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The week was everything I could have asked for and more. I ended up spending most of my time with my professor, Nieves, as well as Esther (Spanish professor at Mt. Holyoke), José (Esther's husband, and a grad student at UMass) and Glenda (another grad student at UMass). We had such a great time! Nieves and I had many bonding moments; it was great to get some real conversations in while we had time together. She has been such an inspiration in my past four years and really the one whole has been responsible for many of the choices I have made. Although we were exhausted, the conference went very smoothly and was quite a success. I was able to meet many professors from around the US and the world. I have read many articles by them, so it was rewarding, albeit odd, to put a face to the name. It was also a great time to make connections for the future.

While attending the sessions I realized how much I really do love Spanish literature, history, and culture. I also became aware of how much I know. At one point, in a discussion about Marcia Belisarda's manuscript, unpublished in its entirety, a question arose about its being published at all. I was extremely pleased when I was able to name the other of the two anthologies in which the prologue is published. While only a small thing and a fleeting moment, it was then that I truly felt that I should go to graduate school. At another point Glenda and I were speaking about some of the works I read last year, (including Mario Bellatin's Salón de Belleza, or Beauty Salon, which she since has assigned to her class at Amherst) and she encouraged me to continue on to graduate school as well. "I wish my students were half as enthusiastic as you," she told me. So I guess graduate school is the right decision... Sometimes I wonder if I am not going to be good enough for it, smart enough, or prepared enough. But this past week at the GEMELA Conference really was great for me in terms of feeling secure about my future. I'm ready for it. Bring on the grad school applications.

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Yesterday Mt. Holyoke's new president, Lynn Pasquerella, declared it was Mountain Day. While I didn't go climb an actual mountain, I thought it was an appropriate day to be Mountain Day since it was my first full day in Fuengirola. All I could think of was the great Dr. Seuss. What would he have said about climbing mountains? Oh right, here's what he said...

You're off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way!

And so I continue my journey up the next mountain. Onward to...

Fuengirola, Spain
un sol de ciudad

I arrived in Fuengirola two days ago, and it seems I am still getting over my jet lag. It doesn't feel like Spain, but rather this weird multicultural/fusion place... There probably weren't more than a dozen Spaniards on my flight from London; there are tons of British people here, and almost everything is written in both Spanish and English. In the streets you see people from all over the world, of every race, including women in hijab which I never saw in Sevilla. In my neighborhood it seems like there are more Finnish people than Spaniards. Even one of the main streets in my barrio is called Avenida de Finlandia. I've gone out and explored a little... I've already discovered that I won't be missing "ethnic" food here - there's everything from sushi to Mexican, Indian to Chinese, British pubs to kebab shops. (Insert extreme excitement here.)

The town isn't too big, which is nice. It's odd not knowing which neighborhood is where. In Sevilla we had a tour guide who explained everything to us, and here I am on my own to discover the city. I feel like I am getting a hang of it, but I keep stumbling on new things. Today I found the Cien Montaditos, one of my favorite Spanish chain restaurants. It was so enjoyable to sit and eat my montaditos in the plaza, sipping on a tinto de verano.

Maybe this weekend I can head over to Málaga to see the big city. It's the sixth biggest city in Spain and about 3,000 years old. I'm sure it will have much to offer in terms of culture. I'm on the lookout for a local flamenco hangout, like La Anselma in Triana, Sevilla. Mijas is just up the hill and is said to be charming. It's one of Andalucia's many white hill towns. I'm hoping to get up there this weekend.

I moved into my piso on Tuesday and it's great. The place is small, but comfortable. "European", as my mom would call it. We have internet (yes!!) and even a pool. It's only about a fifteen minute walk to the beach. My roommate's name is Alicia, and she is fantastic! We have been eating dinner together every night; she's a great cook. :)

I start school tomorrow, which I am quite looking forward to, because up till now I don't know anyone here except for Alicia. There is another auxiliar at my school, also from California, whose name is Nandi. I'll have a chance to meet her tomorrow. I realized that I will probably spend a lot of time in solitude, but I think that's okay with me. I am ever so grateful that we have the internet at home, as it has made communicating with all of you much easier, and of course, cheaper. Sometime tomorrow I am supposed to swing by the bank where Nieves' best friend works to say hello. It'll be nice to know that I am not really alone here and have someone I can call in case I need anything. :)

Anyway, that's all for now. I am still using my Mt. Holyoke email address, so you can email whenever and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

¡Hasta ahora!

So, you graduated. What's next?

On May 23, 2010 I walked across the amphitheater stage and received my diploma. It was an exhilarating moment, and one that I had been imagining since before even setting a foot on campus. While I tried to stay focus on just making it to JoJo without tripping, I was cheered on by Dean Gladys Moore as I passed her. Our commencement speakers were excellent and the weekend was very, very special. The presence of the class of 2008 on campus was amazing; it became again the Mount Holyoke I treasure and hold dear to my heart. Many of my friends were back on campus, helping to bring back the good ol' days of Blanchard dance parties and fun.

The next day I was home. It was over. The four greatest years of my life had flown by. You're right to think I cried like crazy when leaving campus. I can only hope to one day live once again amongst such amazing, inspiring, intellectual, wonderful women. Their stories of strength and passion are testament to such a great institution. They are the ones who will go into this world and do good. They will always care about their communities and any possible impact they can make on this world, be it in the smallest of ways. I am so proud to be a part of this sisterhood and I am so very thankful for all of the opportunities I have had because of it. As I left that beautiful campus, I knew that my mohome is something that will always be with me, despite my physical distance from my friends or that cherished place.

So now that all of that is over and I have moved back into my small room with way too many books to fit on the shelves, I am ready for my next adventure. I'll be home for the summer working at Serra Camp and walking dogs as per usual.

Just two days ago I heard about my next destination: FUENGIROLA, SPAIN. I'll be living on the Costa del Sol in a beach town of about 70,000 people working in an elementary school. I'm quite excited for it. More updates to come as I find out more information.

Be well. :)

Update Letter - February 21, 2010

Greetings and peace to you all!

I am writing to you while I am on retreat at the Sisters of Mercy Ridge End House in Watch Hill, Rhode Island. I am with a few other Catholic students on the annual retreat offered by the Newman Association, and while away from school I have had some time to really sit and reflect on what is important in my life and my relationship with God. I could not, of course, stop thinking of all of you who I have met throughout my journeys, and so I would like to take this opportunity to send you all an update on everything going on in my life and to send you my good wishes for health and happiness.

It is my last semester at Mount Holyoke College – I know what you’re probably thinking: Already?! Let me tell you, that is the exact thought that runs across my mind every single day. About a week ago was the 100 day mark till graduation. I know that when I walk across that stage on May 23^rd, I will be entering into a new community and a new state of being: an alumna. I have loved each and every moment of my four years and I can hardly believe that soon I will be leaving this most amazing and wonderful place for something else, the next step, or as a beloved priest once said, the next short story in my collection of short stories that make up my life. I am constantly reminded of how much I appreciate this experience, and I am in constant gratitude to my parents and family for all their support these past few years. I know that without them, without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And so I thank you.

As many of you know, I am majoring in Romance Languages and Literatures, which is a surprise to many of my high school English teachers. I was the student who barely finished a book, hated reading, and now look at me! I have studied everything from the French Tristan and Isolde to 20th century Spanish women writers, from the New Wave French film to the African short story, from Italian verb conjugations to methodologies of teaching Spanish as a foreign language, from the tres culturas (Christian, Jewish and Muslim) in the medieval Iberian peninsula to anti-humanist writers in Latin America, and the list could go on and on! I am enjoying my three classes this semester; however, I wish I had one more year for that film studies class I meant to take, or that religion class I was interested in, or an English class (I guess 84 credits of Spanish, French and Italian literature will make up for my lack of English classes).

You might also know that I am working on a senior thesis project. At Mount Holyoke we are not required to write theses, but I decided I wanted to give it a go. I am writing in Spanish under the advising of my wonderful professor, Nieves Romero-Díaz, whom I have had the pleasure of having for seven classes. The topic of my thesis is ‘Spanish Women Writers and the Prologue as a Genre from the Fifteenth to Seventeenth Century’. I guess I should find a shorter title; it might be called, ‘No Doubt It Will Amaze You’, the opening line from my favorite prologue of Maria de Zayas in the 17^th Century, or “ “‘This Weak and Womanly Intellect’ : Discourses of Proto-Feminism in the Prologues of Spain’s Women Writers”. If you are interested I could send you a copy of her prologue in English and you would see why I get so excited reading these clever protofeminists’ works. The thesis process has been enjoyable thus far, although I am starting to get closer to final deadlines and still have a ton to write. (I decided to give up stress for my Lenten Promise and undoubtedly this is going to prove to be a test of faith!) In total at the end it will be roughly 100 pages – in Spanish! My personal thought was that if I can write this, I think I am set for grad school.

Speaking of grad school, that’s my plan – but not yet. This summer I am going to be working at Serra Summer Sports and Recreation Camp again. I love the children there and they are a joy to work with. Hopefully I will be working with the seven year olds again as we tend to get along splendidly. After camp ends I will (hopefully) be heading off to Spain again from October to May. The Spanish Government offers a program in which Americans can go to Spain and act as teaching assistants in the English classrooms. It seems like a great program. There are a few reasons I chose to go back to Spain: first, it will allow me to improve my Spanish; secondly, it also allows me to put off grad school for a year. I thought grad school was too big of a decision to be rushed in to, and this way I will have time to think clearly about what type of a school I will go to. I would like to continue with my study of Spanish women writers, particularly in the medieval and early modern periods. We shall see where this all takes me. Someone once told me that as long as I am doing something I genuinely enjoy and am interested in, all the doors I open will be ones I want to step through. I thought it was sound advice, and I have been following it ever since.

And with that I want to wish you all happiness and good health. Blessings be upon you, and I hope to either see or hear from you all soon.

With all my love,

Emmalie

Processing my year abroad

So I decided I would try to process this whole Sevilla thing. Finally, right?

I arrived in Spain in the beginning of September, with an idea in mind of what to expect. After all, I had spent three weeks in Spain a few years back with my family and I had studied abroad in Italy before. Comprehension was not a problem at all, and I felt fairly comfortable with my Spanish. I was used to being away from home for extended periods of time, and I was actually in Spain less time than I would have had I been at Mt. Holyoke. I was confident that this was going to be an easy experience.

Grace and I arrived in Madrid and conquered the city. I remembered everything and got us around the first few days with little problem. Around September 9th we arrived in Sevilla for our orientation. That went well and I made friends quickly. We didn’t know what was in store for us, but we knew we had to stick it out together if we wanted to make it through. We began to plan trips and realized our budgets weren’t as large as we had hoped. Oh well, I guess that extra trip to Segovia wasn’t going to happen, but that was okay because we were in Sevilla, having fun, and that was all that mattered.

My host señora seemed nice. After the first week or two I stopped using my dictionary for common words and only pulled it out when I was in desperate need. Our intensive session began, and I quickly saw that it was the heat, not the class, that was intense. We went out at night (at 11pm – early for the Spaniards) and slept our siesta during the day. I was well adjusted. Or so I thought…

About six or seven weeks into the program I began to fall apart. Deep down I knew the reason, but I didn’t want to admit it. I was trying to detach from Sevilla before I became too attached to it. Too many times I have lost friends to timelines, and I figured that if I didn’t establish a real bond to the city that I would maybe make it out without any of the pain this time. The weather was getting colder and I was beginning to realize that only a small number of my friends would be there when I returned for the spring semester. I missed Mt. Holyoke and my friends there. I even missed the academic load, and was feeling useless in Sevilla with barely any academic work in comparison to Mt. Holyoke. What I didn’t realize is that I was doing a hell of a lot of work, just not academic. I was trying to survive in a foreign country, where I couldn’t talk to my family every day, nor could I ever speak with my friends from the States. There wasn’t a 24 hour convenient store, nor was there a Target, and they didn’t have sour cream. The Mexican food was the worst attempt ever and I was going crazy hearing so many racist and sexist remarks on a day to day basis. I convinced myself that I didn’t like Spain, and found the culture differences to be my scapegoat.

Meanwhile I was enjoying all of my classes, and connecting with my professors. I was learning immense amounts, despite the fact that I wasn’t doing as much writing as I would have had I been at Mt. Holyoke. I was reading book and book after book, and for once enjoying poetry. I was watching Spanish films almost every week and learning about intercultural communication. I was in a class with a professor that I really found to be extraordinary, and I felt that we would become close.

I went home for Christmas, and decided to wait for as long as I could to go back to Spain. When I returned to Sevilla on February 7th, I was the last person in my program to arrive – out of about 500 students. Ha! That will show them! Clearly this was not the right choice for me. But as the semester began and the all-year students really bonded, I started to feel like maybe this was the right choice. I was surrounded by amazing friends, and I had the best roommate I could ever ask for. On top of that, she was from California! It was surely meant to be. I decided that I better not waste the semester bumming around and hating Sevilla, so instead I dove back into it. Maybe this would be a better survival strategy.

A friend and I started taking Sevillanas classes, and although we didn’t keep with it the whole semester, it really helped me to understand the dance and I learned the basics of the first part. We started going to a flamenco bar in Triana at night where all the locals hang out; I fell in love. It was amazing and I could stand there in one place in the smoky, tight-squeezed room for hours and just watch them. We also tried to spend some time walking around every weekend to better appreciate the city. We went to a few museums, spent time sitting by the river Guadalquivir, and peeking into churches. I traveled to different parts of Spain and was getting a good feel for the country. It was April before I knew it and Semana Santa was in full blow. I went with some friends to watch the pasos for ten hours straight, and then hopped on a plane to Italy for five days. I ended up getting really sick, but it was well worth it. I loved Semana Santa! While many people felt overwhelmed by so much religion, I found it inspiring. Seeing the Virgins being carried between the streets was amazing; the devotion of the people was clear.

While all this was happening, my friends still thought I hated Sevilla and my life there, when secretly I was thoroughly enjoying it. My professor Magdalena and I were becoming fast friends. We’ve gone through a lot of the same stuff and so we could easily relate to one another. I began to walk home with her every day after class, and a couple of days a week we had lunch together. Soon enough we were planning out our week long trip to Zahara during Feria. It ended up being everything I could have asked for and more. It was such a special time of bonding and soul-sharing. I began to feel at peace with Spain. Maybe it was being in a pueblo far from Sevilla, or being by the ocean, or being with someone who actually cares for you and not just a señora who is paid to feed you crappy sandwiches. It was that week when I realized that I really did love Spain, and that I should have expressed it earlier.

Although my house overlooked the Feria, I decided to skip out on most of it. I had watched them set it up for months and looked forward to it, and yet I ended up only spending a few hours at it. I didn’t dance, nor did I go into a caseta. Sometimes when I think about it I regret not having participated more in such an important week for Sevilla, but I know I will go back one year for Feria, and maybe this time I will buy a traje de gitana and learn las sevillanas completely before I go.

And I never made it to Portugal or Morocco even though they were only a few hours away. And la Iglesia de la Macarena was closed when I tried to go. And I only went to el Museo de Bellas Artes once – for twenty minutes for my Intensive Session class – even though I love the art in it. And I only went to the Alcazar the week before I left. And I didn’t do a lot of other things that I had hoped to do.

But I did a lot of things I hadn’t expected to do. I made friends with people from all over the United States. I learned to like poetry. I found a new favorite book, and read it eight times. I was told I write better than some Spaniards. I learned more than I could have ever imagined about myself and I pushed my boundaries completely. And most important, I found a new mentor who ended up becoming one of my best friends.

So now as I sit here listening to the soothing, flamenco-fusion voice of Alba Molina singing softly, “caminando por la calle, yo te vi” and realize that while it’s truly been one hell of a ride, Sevilla is part of me now, and that is something that no one can take away. No one will ever be able to completely understand this feeling, even those who went through it with me. “Te quiero mucho y pido sin cesar que no me dejes ya que te encontré. Pues voy a amarte siempre, voy a amarte.”

NO8DO

Sevilla, no me ha dejado.

La despedida

The word la despedida literally translates to farewell or goodbye, but in Spain, it's not just a word but more of a cultural practice. Spaniards tend to take forever to complete it; for example, phone conversations consist of a good two minutes worth of despedida, and leaving a party starts an hour before you actually leave. So you can imagine what la despedida is like after a year abroad.

Thursday night we had our fiesta final for our program. It was really special and tons of fun. Saying goodbye to some of my professors was so sad. I cried (of course), and that was the beginning of many tears. Yesterday morning I woke up early and went with my roommate Jessica to the airport. Seeing her go was the first time I really believed it was over. I returned to my house, gathered my things, said goodbye to my senora, and left for Grace's house. I'll be staying here until Tuesday. Later on in the day we went to Isla Magica, a theme park in Sevilla. I needed it after the emotional night and morning. We had a blast! Last night we all went out for the final time as a whole group. It was really sad and such an emotional night. Sarah D. was the first to leave (her flight was at 7am this morning). We all got churros on the bridge at 3:30am, and then said goodbye to her. It's going to be a tough next few days...

Update on Feria:
For Feria I decided to cop out on Sevilla and hit the beach. Unfortunately the weather wasn't so beachy, but we had a fun time anyway. I went with my professor Magdalena and her daughter Sara. She has become a little sister to me, and we spent most of the week together. On Thursday we came back to Sevilla and spent Friday together at Feria. It was packed and very noisy, so I'm glad I wasn't at my house the whole week. While at the beach, Magdalena, Sara and I played games, took long walks on the beach and really bonded. We went to mass at the local church - stunningly beautiful. Magdalena has been such an important part of my year here; it's going to make it really hard to be away from her in the future. I'm really going to miss her a lot.

End of classes:
My classes all ended pretty well for the most part. I started my final papers ahead of time so I wasn't too stressed out. In case you want to know the topics:
Contemporary Literature: "Fue una lucha feroz." (Analysis of a scene of sexual violence in "La familia de Pascual Duarte")
Novela y Cine: Los Santos Inocentes - Translating the novel to the screen
Social Justice: Representation of Moroccans in Spanish Media

Plans for the next week and a half:
Leave Tuesday for England. My aunt Christine is picking me up and I'll be staying at her house in the English countryside for a few days. Then I leave on Friday for Mt. Holyoke. It's graduation weekend, so I am going to say goodbye to all the seniors. I'll eventually be home on Sunday night, May 24th.

Semana Santa: Sevilla and Italy

Semana Santa has come and gone, meaning that I have three weeks left of classes and another week-long break. I can't even begin to understand how the time has gone by so fast!

Since I knew I was only going to be in Sevilla for the first day of Semana Santa I decided to make the most of it: ten hours in the streets watching the pasos. It was very impressing! I had seen photos and even videos of it beforehand, but there is nothing like being there amongst the people watching the huge pasos being carried past you. The nazarenos were surprisingly not as scary as I thought they were going to be. They wear robes and tall pointed hoods that cover their faces; some are all white, some all black, some white with purple or blue or green or red. The ones in all white look a lot like the KKK, so it's a bit creepy at first. As a sidenote: the KKK stole their outfits from the nazarenos. The nazarenos have candy that they give to the children who ask for it, singing, "Nazareno, dame un caramelo" (Nazarene, give me a candy).

Later on that night I took the bus from Sevilla to Madrid, and then flew from there to Milan. Took a bus, and then the train, and eventually arrived in Pavia. My cousin Valentina met me at the train station. We went to her apartment to eat and then went for a walk around Pavia. It was such a nice change from the hectic crowds of Sevilla. The Università di Pavia was beautiful. It’s a pretty large university; Valentina is studying medicine there. In the afternoon I took a nap; turns out it would be the beginning of a pretty bad cold with a fever – I’m still sick! Ugh! The next day I went to Sanremo on the train. Valentina’s brother, Alberto picked me up and we went to the house to eat. It was so great to be back with Monica and Giuseppe; I love my family!! The next morning Alberto and I went around Bordighera and Sanremo. We also met up with another cousin, Tommaso, for lunch. Later in the afternoon Monica and I went to Dolceacqua, a little tiny town tucked away in the hills. The town consists of steep little streets and buildings that have arches between them to hold them up during earthquakes. It’s a quaint little place, and it feels like you’ve stepped back in time. It was a perfect way to spend the afternoon. Thursday I headed back to Milan; I spent the night there and saw more family, Elisabetta, Giuseppe, and Federica. Friday morning I flew back to Madrid and took the bus to Sevilla.

Tomorrow I am going back to Cordoba to see a professor from Mt. Holyoke who is home for sabbatical. After that I have a week of school, and then it will be Feria. I am going to the beach for a few days and hopefully Trisha is coming to visit for the last weekend. Two weeks of school after that, then the trip home. I can’t believe how fast it has flown by!!