Málaga, Spain

This morning, we had class from 9-1:30 instead of 8:30-1, having talked the professor into giving us an extra half hour of sleep, since the hotel’s patio entertainment lasts from 8 or 9 until midnight every night, and the noise reverberates around each room, making it completely impossible to a) study or b) sleep. (Also, for the first time in my life, I heard Spanish yodeling. It is indescribable, and the hotel dj/singer does that number at least once every evening.)

After class, Ula left before me to catch the train, while I packed a backpack with the essentials (bottle of water, Purell, camera, fistful of batteries) and headed out. Yesterday, while I was messing around with the doctor and my swollen hands, the rest of the group went to check out the Picasso museum and had a great time, so I couldn’t wait to go see it.

When I got to the train station, Ula wasn’t there, so I assumed she’d made the previous train. (Local trains come every half hour.)

In Málaga, I stopped at an information booth and picked up a map and made my way towards the Picasso museum. It took me nearly two hours to get there because I passed so many interesting side streets, buildings, churches, statues, fountains and parks along the way, and of course I had to explore (and take photographs!) of everything.

I ended up hungry and on Calle Larios, which is amazing and massive and completely puts Rodeo Drive to shame. In between all the shops were various cafes, bars and bakeries, all with outdoor seating at little round tables with umprellas for the sun. I saw a menu on an empty table at one cafe and wandered up to have a look. I was just reaching out for the menu when the person at the next table suddenly reached out and grabbed my arm. I about jumped out of my skin until I realized – it was Ula! We laughed about the coincidence of running into each other in as big a city as Málaga, and I decided to go ahead and eat there, since she was sitting there anyway.

I ordered a cafe con leche and a veggie sandwich. The coffee was great, but imagine my surprise when the veggie sandwich showed up with a big slab of ham on it! The waiter was surprised that I was surprised (don’t all veggie sandwiches come with ham?) but amiably agreed to make me a new one. After lunch, Ula left to walk around, and I finally made it to the Picasso museum.

The ticket was 50% off with a student ID (4 euros) and cameras had to be checked. The buidling itself was very cool looking, square in shape with a center courtyard featuring a pretty garden. There were tons of his works, ranging from when Picasso was a teenager to near his time of death. There were drawings and paintings and sketches and mixed media and lithographs… I have seen lots of pictures in books of his cubist works and it was surprising to see what a photorealistic portrait he was capable of making. It was also very interesting to see his studies (sketches) that he used to practice and experiment with before making his more famous works, like Guernica (which was not there, but is in Madrid, so I intend to see it then.)

I bought a little something at the gift shop and then left to wander around Málaga some more. Unlike Costa Rica, all the streets in Málaga are named. As a matter of fact, even 3 foot wide alleys have names, and all of these “streets” appear on the maps just like highways, making me more thankful than ever that I’m on foot and not trying to drive. (I’ll just turn left here at the… hallway?)

I saw a vendor selling post cards and decided to have a look, when I caught sight of someone standing on the other side of the post card rack looking at souvenirs. It was Ula! “You again!” I exclaimed and she jumped, then we both laughed, but in a way, we were kind of weirded out, since we were now nowhere near the cafe or the Picasso museum and managed to run into each other yet again.

I bought a few postcards and then headed off again. I found the tourist bureau and picked up a few brochures. I walked by the Alcazaba, an amazing, sprawling spread of an ancient fortress and castle, complete with towers and high, narrow windows. it looked like it came straight out of Arabian Nights. I couldn’t wait to explore it, but it was nearing dinner time, so I figured I better take the train back to La Colina since dinner is only served from 7:30-9:30 and here it was 8 already and I had a 30 minute train ride ahead of me, followed by a 20 minute hike back to the hotel. I headed to the Renfe and through the turnstile, and who should I run into amidst the crush of people waiting for the train? You guessed it – Ula! What are the freaking chances??

That night after dinner, I hopped onto the hotel’s worthless Internet kiosk. It charges one euro per 10 minutes, which may or may not sound like much, but it gets real expensive real fast (especially considering the exchange rate.) Not only this, but there is no place to plug in a USB device, it has no CD burner, and it erases all new files every time you log off anyway.

I did find another Internet cafe nearby that charges 7 euros for 5 hours to use their PCs, which do have USB ports and on which I can save files and install programs. The problem is, to use my laptop would cost an additional 10 euros and they are closed for siesta from 1 til 4:30, and are open in the evenings only from 4:30-8:30, weekdays only. But, this at least gives me an option.

Tags: castles & palaces, cathedrals, food, museums, music & concerts, shopping, technology

Portland, OR

Today Todd had to work, so he dropped me off downtown so I could walk around and see what I could see. I started out at Powell’s, the nation’s largest independent bookstore, and boy is it massive. I absolutely love to read (okay, I’m addicted to reading) and I could easily spend every dime I earn in a place like this. If you’ve never been, you should really think about checking it out.

Next, I walked all around downtown, looking like the tourist I was (backpack on, digital camera hanging around my neck). I walked through most of the parks (and there were a lot more than I anticipated), by the Chinese Garden, the Skidmore Fountain, the Ira C Keller fountain, City Hall, Portlandia, the Cultural District, Chinatown, and the Pioneer Courthouse Square.

I also visited the Art Museum, which had neat Asian, European, and Native American exhibits, and even a Forgotten Mid-Western Prints exhibit. Then I went to the Oregon History Center, which was pretty cool, and I was disappointed that photography was not allowed. There was an exhibit with scale representations of every type of wagon imaginable (ice wagon, conestoga, etc) and that was really neat.

Lastly, I walked along the river (Waterfront Park), taking photos of bridges and Canada geese (NOT “Canadian” geese, as I’m informed) and wandering through the Rose Festival area.

The cool thing about that was that it wasn’t open yet. While that may sound odd, consider this: typically if a fair/festival is not open, the general public is not allowed inside. So for the first time, I got to see carnies setting up, rides being constructed, midway game booths being assembled, and so on. It was really pretty interesting. (And I saw that they had my two favorite fair items in all the world: the Zipper ride, and Elephant Ears – yum!)

That night, Todd and I went to the Crystal Ballroom at McMenamins and saw the sold-out Sleater Kinney concert, which was a lot of fun!

Tags: books, festivals & fiestas, museums, music & concerts

Mata de Caña vs Nuevo Arenal, Costa Rica

This morning we woke up to sunshine and chirping birds, yet again. (I could really get used to this.) Lidieth dropped by for breakfast and fixed us fruit and eggs and toast, which was of course fabulous. Later, we went down into Nuevo Arenal and visited Elkin, Valentina and Esteban for a little while. Brian and I were supposed to be at the fiesta at 2:00 and were running a bit late.

We walked down from the house and when we got our first glimpse of the field, a soccer game was in full swing. To the untrained eye, it looked like the reds versus the blues. Come to find out, it was Nuevo Arenal (red) vs Mata de Cañas (blue), with Arenal up 3-2, and we were the (blue) home team. Being as Mata de Cañas is a small town, even for small towns, I believe every able-bodied male was out there on the field, kicking it for the blue team. Michelle’s husband Luis was on the field, as was the new school principal (who had been at the school for a whole week now, and was not only the administrator, but also 50% of the teaching staff.)

Let me pause here to give a little info about the school. This particular weekend-long fiesta was actually a school fund raiser. The school was made up of two small buildings, one room in each (and a row of potted plants, which were used as dividers in one room). Although when Brian went to the boys’ room and was shocked to discover that the sink was nonexistent and the “toilet” was actually just a hole in the floor, along the wall next to the bathrooms was a small table set with two HP desktop computers and a Microsoft USB electronic scanner/microscope.

We got a couple cervezas (okay, more than a couple, but it was a school fund raiser, so of course we were drinking for the children’s sake) and plopped down on a bench to watch the game. A row of kids sat in front of us on logs that resembled trunk slices from a large tree. Behind us was the food vending area, where I ate a vegetarian concoction (cooked flower petals in a tortilla) and Bri ate picadillos (a non-vegetarian corn-and-miscellany meal, also served in a tortilla.)

I thought that the contrasting reds and blues of the soccer teams were especially picturesque against the bright green grass, and decided to catch a bit of the game on film, so I took my digital video camera out of my bag and flipped it on.

Within about two seconds, there were more people behind me peering into the display screen than there were playing ball on the actual field.

It was absolutely hilarious. I wish I could’ve filmed from both ends of the camera so I could’ve gotten the giant cartoon-like crush of people scrambling on top of each other, trying to simultaneously peer through the viewfinder. For as long as I had the video recorder out, I was extremely popular.

The blues unfortunately ended up losing to the reds, and I put the camera away. As it turned out, there were two more soccer games immediately following, and the blues were in all three games. (The second game was against the greens, not sure which town they represented, and we missed the third game, so I can’t really tell you much about that one.)

Around 7 or 8, the dance started. All the desks and chairs were cleared out of the larger one room building and piled into the smaller building in order to make room. The walls were covered in giant palm fronds (much bigger than I am tall, and no comments from the peanut gallery) and a couple rotating laser disco balls hung from the ceiling.

A live deejay spun the tunes, and intermission time was filled with karaoke. That’s right, you heard me: karaoke. No, I didn’t sing, although I do know Thalia/Shakira/Paulina Rubio, so there was probably something I could’ve done. Bri was willing to sing anything Iglesias (Enrique or Julio) but the song list was up by the deejay, completely across the dance floor, which was empty since nobody dances to karaoke, and neither of us felt like making a spectacle of ourselves.

Of course, we were bound to make spectacles of ourselves anyway. That’s just how it goes.

We had paid our 1000 colones to get in the door, and our hands were stamped with a parrot in blue ink. We were calmly sitting there, sipping cervezas, when Luis came and dragged us out on the dance floor. It was some sort of dance that everyone knew the moves to but us, to music hailing from Columbia. Luis danced with me for maybe ten minutes, gave up, and went back to his wife. Bri and I braved it out for another five or ten, then sat back down.

We were up and down several times, and the music ranged from Columbian to merengue to salsa to contemporary Latin American pop music. It was getting close to midnight and we were getting ready to leave when Lidieth arrived. I was whisked away to merengue with Enrique (whom I had just met) and Bri partnered with Lidieth, who first tried to dance with him, then tried to lead him around by the hands so he was at least moving in the right directions, then gave up and sort of vaguely danced in the vicinity of him.

I, on the other hand, was being whisked hither and yon, and twirled around the floor until my eyes rolled around in my head. I had no idea what I was doing, but thanks to an evening of swing-dancing with Steve in Tampa, I had learned the art of Letting The Man Lead while dancing, and was able to follow Enrique’s lead for a good half hour or so.

However, I think it’s safe to say that the *funniest* moment in the evening was when the deejay, in an attempt to liven up the crowd at the very beginning of the dance, shouted into his microphone something to the equivalent of, “Get this party started! All the ladies in the house now SCREAM!!” and Brian, not speaking a word of Spanish, immediately threw his hands in the air, waved his arms around, and screamed on cue. Hilarious.

When we finally made it back to the house, tired but happy, we were greeted by a special visitor. This visitor was black, spotty, eight-legged, and about the size of a peach. That’s right, a massive spider. It was actually the second such to come visit us (the first one surprised me on the futon when I was reading a novel) and this time, I had the foresight to run and grab my camera before calling Brian. (Once involving Bri in anything having to do with bugs of any type, a situation tends to quickly border on the hysterical.)

Animal-equality sort that I am, I didn’t want the spider to die by Reebok, but I also didn’t want to cozy up to it in the bed or the shower (or on the futon again. Once was plenty.) So I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a tupperware container and a lid, and sprinted back to Bri and the spider. Why did I give Bri the tupperware rather than just take care of the spider myself? That’s right, because I had to man the video camera (*somebody* had to do it) and besides, Bri takes everything to the next level and is vastly more entertaining.

So, tupperware in hand, Bri sneaks up to the spider (who, incidentally, has not moved from the spot in the hallway where it was when we first walked through the door) and captures the spider with the plastic bowl. He slides the blue lid underneath and then half-juggles the two in order to get them out the door. The juggling bit isn’t because Bri fancies himself a circus clown (although entirely possible) but because the lid didn’t quite fit the bowl and he was deathly afraid the spider would get out and touch him.

Bri makes it to the entrance, shoulders his way out the door, and tosses everything – spider, lid, bowl and all – out into the bushes.

I blink, then crack up laughing. He scowls at me, but doesn’t go rescue the bowl for a good thirty minutes, after which he gave the tupperware a washing and sanitizing the likes of which rival any hospital ICU. Then he put it in the dishwasher. (I suppose there’s no such thing as too clean, after all.)

Tags: animals, festivals & fiestas, food, music & concerts