Welcome to Spain!

After an entirely-too-long stay in the Newark Airport, the group, which had steadily grown in number as the hours passed, boarded the plane en route to Madrid. Earlier in the day I'd hit the jackpot and was able to change my seat to the aisle of the exit row – cha-ching! I was sat next to two classily-dressed Spaniards who gave me a preview of the plentiful sweaters and corduroys I'd apparently be seeing during my time in Spain. I slept most of the way, and could feel my unexpected nerves brewing as the plane got closer to the opposite side of the Atlantic.

Shortly after landing and gathering our bags, the group was led to a cluster of buses and shuttles and, before even getting a chance to say what up to the city which would host us for the following three-and-a-half months, we were on our way to Toledo, the first stop on our seminar. It would turn out to be not only a nice, well-rounded tour of Spain but also a very interesting educational experience filled with intriguing lectures and exceptional monument-visits which displayed the (personally previously-unknown) fascinating and multi-layered history of the country. In addition to immediately hitting it off with my man Ricky and his twin Matt, I quickly became acquainted with a couple other guys who I've found to be really good company.

Toledo was a relatively small, but quaint, town with a pleasant main square surrounded by a labyrinth of side streets. Every block seemed to have at least three shops filled with a plethora of swords and knives, and our hotel was medieval-themed, including myriad knightly armor suits and numerous uncomfortable, noble, high-backed chairs. The perplexity of such a situation was solved when we learned that Toledo apparently is the sword capital of the world, in fact producing many of the weapons used by Hollywood. At one point we walked into a shop which claimed to be the supplier and I got real kick out of watching Matt and Ricky nearly orgasm at holding replicas of Lord of the Rings battle gear. I hadn't planned on it, but decided to purchase a nice pocket knife, made out of bull horn, because, hey, when am I ever gonna be back in the sword capital of the world? Knives are small swords, right? It seemed like a logical, reasonably pragmatic decision, and I feel really badass playing with it, which is always a plus.

The average day in the seminar, which covered the fall of the Roman Empire in around 475 CE, the subsequent Visigoth (German) occupation, the Islamic Conquest in 711, and the Christian Re-conquest around 1100, included a lecture or two and a visit or two to one of the many historical, epically beautiful buildings housed in Spain. Being an historical epicenter of the three monotheistic religions, and in accordance with the theme of the seminar, almost all of our visits were to churches/cathedrals, mosques, and a synagogue. Each city we visited (Toledo for 3 days, Cordoba for 2, Seville for 2, and Granada for 3) continued to spew out astounding structures which have all blended together in my memory as a group of unbelievably beautiful, incredibly detailed and ornamented structures ripe with history and reeking of the longevity and potential of man's capabilities and artistry. The professor who ran the seminar was one of those guys who seems to know everything, and is good at explaining what he knows, so he was a terrific guide and I learned a tremendous amount of interesting information.

I enjoyed getting acquainted to Spain via Toledo, where I had some terrific tapas and started the ongoing process of adapting my stomach to the mass amounts of pork to be seen and inevitably eaten. It's not the place to go for nightlife, but I look back on it fondly and am very glad I had the opportunity to roam its streets and meet some of the locals. The man who sold me my knife was particularly memorable – very likable and personable. I really appreciate a person like that.

Cordoba was a quick stop. We went to a monument – the Great Mosque – which, like many others, had gone through various religious-identities resulting from the various ruling factions of the land. This particular one was a grandiose mosque with an epic cathedral built in the middle. One of the themes of the trip was comparing not only practices and cultures of the various religions but also the art and architecture, which was very interesting. My experience here was marred a bit when, after the visit, walking on a promenade lined with orange trees, I jumped up with the intent of grabbing a couple and juggling, but landed on a strange, inconveniently placed ledge and turned my ankle pretty badly. Naturally, we got lost walking back to our hotel, and that was certainly not the most ideal post-ankle-sprain situation. I did quite like the city, which, somewhat similar to Toledo, had a sort of antique charm to it with its cobblestone, windy roads (also not ideal for a twisted ankle) and such.

The somewhat long bus rides between cities were a stark reminder of how much bigger Spain is than Israel. I enjoyed them though, particularly looking out at the endless rows of olive trees, looking first straight out through the alleyways the rows of crops created, then the two diagonal alleyways on either side of the straight-away view. I think it was the ride from Cordoba to Seville in which I was feeling so high on life. I was totally digging Spain. It inspired in me the same feeling I get from a new pair of fresh sneakers. Smooth and kickin'.

Seville was my favorite city of the tour, by far. Amazing monuments, check. Epic nightlife (here was my first exposure to the almost [<--- keyword] over-the-top Spanish discotheque outings of dancing the entire night away), check. And probably the best thing I've seen yet, which wasn't included in our tour, an unbelievable plaza which I heard (but not confirmed) was erected in dedication to Christopher Columbus. This would make sense, as we also saw Columbus' tomb in Seville's cathedral. The massive, open structure (the plaza, not the tomb; Creepers.) was lined with beautiful intricately detailed benches, decorated with colored tiles depicting scenes which represented various cities of Spain. And it was so clean. I noticed that every city, in fact, seemed to make cleanliness a priority. At one point I climbed a staircase and looked out at the expanse from a sort of patio, and felt just like the Emperor of Rome about to give the go ahead to epically dispose of the gladiators of the Colliseum with whom the lions had totally just had their way. Or perhaps just saying hello to my onlookers. Either way, it was a cool sensation, and I guess I'd be down with being Emperor one day. Better start looking for internships I suppose!

Overall Seville was just cool. A unique Spanish-European city, streets filled with delicious tapas bars and elegantly lined with orange trees. At one point we went to a park and had a ball (no pun intended) playing with the endless stream of oranges at our disposal. Apparently they're bitter and not to be eaten, so it's basically like having a ball tree. Then it explodes and gets you all sticky, but still, I would really dig a ball tree at home. I'd love to go back to Seville, and hope to once I figure out the Spanish bus system.

We then moved on to Granada, our last stop. By then I was growing a bit restless. I'd been living out of a suitcase for almost 3 weeks now (including my time at home in which I moved around a lot), the hotel dinners were taking their toll on my digestive system, and the seminar seemed to be dragging on. I was eager to arrive to Madrid already. The highlight of Granada was the Alhambra, a beautiful walled-city/palace stemming from the last faction of Islam before they were entirely eradicated from Spain, pushed out of the south in around 1492. At this point in history the group who remained in Granada knew they were the last of a dying breed (Muslims in Spain), so they dedicated their lives to beauty and elegance, with the Alhambra being their supreme wonder.

On January 26, we took the long ride north from Granada to Madrid. My nerves were brewing as we approached. I'd already learned who my host family would be: A 61-year-old widow named Toñi. I had requested to live with a family with someone my age, and I was initially quite disappointed about the prospect of living alone with one older woman. We made it to Madrid in the late afternoon and, after picking up my bags, I managed to unite with Toñi, who, along with other host mothers and families, were waiting next to the Real Madrid stadium where we were dropped off to take us to our respective homes.

The first night we'd been instructed not to go out. We didn't have phones. I didn't have internet at my place yet. Toñi spoke no English. She was nice, no doubt, but it was terribly lonesome. I felt miserable the next day, and angry that my housing wishes had seemingly been ignored.

As time has passed, though, I've grown more and more content with the living situation. In addition to being nice and caring, Toñi is a good cook and pretty goofy, albeit sometimes unintentionally. She has a sort of wispy, high pitched voice, with a distinct Spanish flair. Last night for dinner, the first course was peas. I asked, in spanish, "How do you say this in spanish?" "Guisantes," she answered, "y en ingles?" "Peas," I replied. "Qué fácil!" she exclaimed, in her unique, cutely-comical tone, "Vamos a comer peas." (How easy! We are going to eat peas.) It was really really funny and I laughed out loud.

So my housing has gotten better and I'm starting to feel comfortable in my room, and now I've got internet and a cell phone so I'm more connected. Plus, Ricky and Matt live very close so we go to the same Metro stop to get to town, which is about a 12-minute ride depending on where you get off (12 minutes to the Syracuse International Institute where our classes are). They live in a house about a 4-minute bus ride away, in a basement floor of their own, and I went the other day for a play-date.

Classes have started this week and they seem good enough, which is more than I could expect, particularly after last semester's debacle. I'm taking two classes in spanish: one standard grammar/vocab, and one on modern Spanish art in which we'll visit some of the many renown museums of Madrid each week. In addition to these, I've got a history class on Medieval Europe similar to the seminar but far more in depth, a Psychology class on Personality (I quite like the professor and the material so far), and one on Human Rights and World Politics.

Madrid is a big city and I'm still getting to know it. I walked around one day on my own for quite a while (so long, in fact, that I really grew to admire those who do walking marathons. Walking is hard!) and I quickly learned there are many different areas with a unique life of their own within the city. It's similar to New York City, but more calm. I heard that Madrid was determined to be one of the noisiest cities in Europe, but I would have to beg to differ. I hear much less honking and people seem kind of reserved. I'm still getting to know the Spanish culture as well, but they seem like fun-loving people, although less overtly polite and friendly than Americans, which is not necessarily a bad thing, for the latter could easily be deemed as insincere. I've found that being genuine is one of the factors I value most in people. I haven't fallen in love with the city yet, but I will give it time. I'm planning on going to its supposedly-most beautiful park this weekend and to a flea market which is meant to be a memorable experience.

And I booked my spring break trip to Italy, from March 26 to April 6. A couple buddies and I are flying into Rome and then out of Milan, and along the way hope to hit Florence, Venice, Naples, and anywhere else anyone would care to recommend. Excited for that! And excited to continue to grow and see the world and this city and country. Hasta luego!!