Blog 17: How Studying Abroad Changed Me

Blog 17: How Studying Abroad Changed Me

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

            I love this quote. I think it kind of summarizes why I decided to study abroad. This blog is very difficult to write. I can go on and on about a new country and all of my adventures, but how can I summarize a personal journey? The nostalgia is starting to creep in because I’m a week away from ending my program. However, this is only the beginning of the end. I’ll be traveling alone in Ireland for two weeks before meeting my family to travel with them in Spain and Italy. But I know a chapter has ended. I’m looking back at the girl standing terrified at Madrid airport and realizing that she is not the same girl writing this blog now. Ok, I haven’t completely changed. I’m still me, but I’m a stronger, more confident me. Sometimes trying to explain a personal journey is like trying to explain which came first, the chicken or the egg. But I’m going to try just because I think this is one of the best reasons why you should study abroad. So I’m taking a deep breath and jumping into the deep end of the pool.

Beautiful Maui sunrise

             I didn’t decide to study abroad because I wanted to. Of course it was something I wanted, but it was actually more like something I needed. For me, studying abroad did not mean my semester to party. Let me explain. My entire life up until now has revolved around Hawai’i. High school was not the highlight of my life to put it lightly. I’d spent those years plagued with low self-esteem. I was so introverted! And looking back I think my shyness got misinterpreted as being stuck up. It wasn’t until college that I finally flicked on the switch.  At first I was bitterly disappointed that I didn’t go to college in the “mainland” (aka the rest of the USA).  And even more disappointed that I wasn’t drowning in student loans (said nobody). But I slowly shaved away my insecurities and was so much happier. Next to studying in the mainland, studying abroad seemed like the next best thing. If I couldn’t live a five hour plane ride away from home in a place like Cali for four years, why not live half way around the world for half a year? I wanted to have a time in my life where I could completely strip away everything familiar and comfortable. But the idea of being alone without my family, friends, beaches, and palm trees in a place so far from home also terrified me more than excited me. Was I strong enough for this? But in the words of Columbus “you can never cross the ocean unless you have courage to lose sight of the shore.” So that’s what I did.

Plaza de España, Sevilla

            Cut to the present. I’ve seen and done things I never thought I’d have the courage to do. I’ve flown half away around the world by myself, sung karaoke in Spanish, stayed out until 8:30 in the morning, met friends from around the world through couchsurfing, rode a camel in the Sahara, jumped into the Atlantic ocean in Portugal, saw the power of religion during Semana Santa, and wore a flamenco dress during Feria. It hasn’t always been easy being on my own, but a lot of the harder times have become the most memorable and transformative. Spain has both captivated me and frustrated me, but that’s only natural when you’re thrown into a new, unfamiliar culture. I will forever love the Spanish for simply their love of life. I don’t know how to describe it… they just know how to live to fullest. Family, friends and good times are so much more important to them than money and prestige. There’s even a word in Spanish that describes the time after dinner where you talk story with your family and friends. But I will forever be unable to understand why people party until seven in the morning.  And WHY do they eat dinner sometime as late as 10pm at night?

            I think no matter where I travel or live in future, there will always be that small town, Maui girl in me. Studying abroad was one of the best decisions I made. I wanted to leave Hawai’i to escape my past, when in fact I needed to leave Hawai’i to embrace my past and grow from it.

*Taken from Pinterest

Blog 16: ¡Feria Loca! (Crazy Feria!)

 Blog 16: ¡Feria Loca! (Crazy Feria!)

            After traveling to Morocco and Portugal, I was completely worn out. I just wanted to crawl into a ball on my bed and sleep through my week off school. But this of course wasn’t an option. Spaniards have this huge, cultural fiesta called Feria de Abril (April Fair). If there’s one thing I learned during Feria, it’s that the Spanish know how to throw a good party. And it’s not just one crazy, fun filled night of shenanigans. It’s a week long, non-stop party! Everyone, from babies to eighty year olds are still out at midnight. So let me, to my best ability, describe the craziness that is Feria.

            If you want to see the Spanish culture at it’s best, you might want to come to Sevilla during Feria. Almost all women from Sevilla will wear trajes de flamenco (flamenco dresses), huge flores (flowers) in their hair, and equally large aretes (earrings). When you see a group of them together, it’s like seeing a mass of color coming at you. The trajes de flamenco can be extremely expensive (think about prom dress prices) and women take flamenco dress shopping seriously. The fashion seemed to be mermaid shaped cut with ruffles on the bottom. They have dresses in every shade of color and many have poka dots on them. If you can’t decide which color, no te preocupes (no worries!). I saw a couple dresses that looked like a walking rainbow. As for me, I got extremely lucky and my intercambio lent me one of her old dresses. So for a few days I was able to dress up like a Sevillana. I found the dress incredibly beautiful, but also heavy and hard to walk in since I needed to wear high heels so props to the ladies during Feria. Of course the guys had it much easier and most wore suits.

            The Feria festivities take place in a sectioned off area of the city. Half of Feria is filled with casetas and the other half is a carnival. The carnival side is a typical fair with games, rides, and a circus. But the caseta half of Feria is the unique part. Casetas are basically huge tents that look like a house on the inside. Most casetas have a cocina (kitchen), bar, and salón (lounge). The inside of each caseta is unique and beautifully decorated. There are chandeliers, lanterns, and paintings making some casetas look like they emerged straight of the pages of some home décor magazine. Here’s the crazy part, some families will take up to 2000 dollar loans just so they can have caseta. Told you Feria is crazy! But people can’t just waltz into any old caseta. Most casetas have a guest list and a guard is in the front making sure you’re on the list. So most casetas are private. But there are public casetas which turn into mini clubs late at night. I learned that Fería even has its own specialty bebida (drink). It’s called Rebujito and is a mix of Sprite and white wine (so good). And along with your normal dance music is traditional Sevillana dances that pretty much every Sevilla native knows by heart. I couldn’t partake in this dance, but it was so neat to watch the flashing dresses as the Sevillanas twirled around the dance floor.

Inside of a caseta

            The entrance way into Feria is called the portado and every year they design a new one (this year’s one is inspired by Plaza de España). The streets were lined with white and red lanterns and all this (the portado and the lanterns) are lit up at night. It’s so beautiful at night to see all the lights illuminate the streets of Feria. Finally there are horses and buggies all over the streets. I “risked my life” many a time trying to take a picture and almost getting run over by a horse. Overall Feria was a really unique, wonderful experience. I absolutely loved how passionate the people are and how hard they try to keep their culture alive.  If you want to see Sevilla pride run wild, come during Feria.

Funny bull ride in the carnival

Blog 15: Falling in love with Portugal!

Playa Doña Ana

Ponte de Piedade: Favorite scene of trip!

Blog 15: Falling in Love with Portugal

            I counted down in my head “One, two, three!” and lunged myself off the boat before I could second-guess my decision. My entire body, submerged in the water, went into shock. It was like I had landed in a tub of ice cubes or I was been pinched a hundred times. A few brave souls who had jumped with me were already flailing back to the boat. Survival instincts kicked in and I dashed over to the boat ladder, pushing one of my guy friends who had made it there first out of the way. (Sorry ladies first!) And so I learned that the ocean in Portugal and the ocean in Hawaii during spring are two very different things.

            But other than almost getting hypothermia in the Atlantic Ocean, I fell in love with Portugal. Everything about the trip was so rejuvenating and refreshing after months of deprivation of any sight of ocean. It’s a real shame most people don’t think much about Portugal when coming to Europe. I guess it’s hard competing with big leagues like Paris, London, and Rome. But Portugal really has a lot to offer (a lot of which I didn’t get to see on this trip since we only stayed in the South). As we were driving to Portugal (its only about 2 hours from Sevilla) I learned a little more about Portugal’s history.  This country’s history is very colorful due to its location on the Iberian Peninsula. Many different groups of people set foot and ruled in Portugal.  The Romans, Visigoths, the Moors, to name a few, all had their mark on Portugal. And Portugal had its moment of fame when it was the pioneer of the Age of Discovery during Prince Henry the Navigator’s rule. It was also the playground of pirates and so many seafront fortresses had to be built for protection. I really can’t blame anyone for trying to take over Portugal because it’s SO BEAUTIFUL. From the pictures you’ll see what I mean.

            But I absolutely loved Portugal and here is why I hope you will someday too. I stayed for a three-day weekend in the south of Portugal, called the Algarve famous for it’s sun-kissed beaches and aqua blue water. We had an apartment style room at our hotel, which could’ve comfortably fit five people. But my roommate and I were spoiled and had it all to ourselves. It had a gorgeous view of the ocean, a balcony, and best of all we could cook in a large kitchen. I usually don’t have much interest in cooking, but it was actually a lot of fun cooking healthy vegetable pastas and salads. We topped it off with a glass of red wine with a view of the sunset over the ocean. I was feeling very satisfied with life.

Cabo de San Vincente

            We went to several different beaches and lookouts in Portugal.  One of the lookouts, Cabo de San Vincente had a commanding presence. Waves crashed against sheer cliffs and the wind was whipping like crazy. This lookout was nicknamed “The End of the World” by the Romans because they believed that this was the edge of their “pancake” world. It’s hard to believe that there was a time that people thought you would drop right off the face of Earth once you sailed to the horizon. Doña Ana Beach was almost the opposite of Cabo de San Vincente. The water was tranquil and the wind had died to almost nothing. The rock formations and colors of this beach were what made it so special. The water almost looked like aqua blue dye had spilled into it. And cliffs framing the water almost were a vibrant golden color. I absolutely loved this beach and the island girl in me was very happy spending several hours lazing on the silk fine sand. It was so nice because it wasn’t flooded with tourists (*cough* Waikiki). And some people were kayaking around the cliffs, which looked like so much fun. The final stop was my favorite lookout and the city of Lagos. Ponte de Piedade was an absolutely stunning circle of cliffs that created a mermaid lagoon down below. You can climb up to the top of one of the cliffs and daringly look below or you can hike down to the lagoon. I loved this spot because it was so scenic and reminded me of what I might see in Italy (oh the Cinque Terre I can’t wait!). Finally Lagos was a cool almost hippy city with lots of cafes and restaurants to explore. I love how the white washed buildings mask how colorful the life in Portugal is. ¡Viva Portugal!

Favorite souvenir so far!

Keeping out those pirates: Lagos

Streets of Lagos

Blog 14: Shukran (Thank you) to the Wonderful Morocco! Part 2

Blog 14: Shukran (Thank you) to the Wonderful Morocco! Part 2

            There have only been a few moments when my breath has been taken away. Sitting on a sand dune watching the setting sun over the Sahara was definitely one of them. My heart was fluttering against the walls of my chest. My lungs could not seem to take in enough air. I couldn’t believe where I was and what I was seeing. But I’m getting ahead of myself aren’t I? Lets rewind.

            After leaving Fes, we continued our way south to the gateway of the Sahara. We stopped for a night in Erfoud and already I noticed a dramatic change in the geography. Not a cloud was in the sky. The land had flattened and now only a few bushes and lone trees were able to survive the harsh climate. At our hotel, I tried Moroccan food for the first time. There was couscous (steamed semolina aka wheat granules), tanjine (slow cooked chicken and vegetables) and Khobz (a thick, loaf Morrocan flatbread). I love the way Moroccan food is so hearty, healthy, and satisfying. My inner foodie was very, very happy as I gorged on my second loaf of Khobz. But if I had really wanted to ‘go Moroccan’, I should have ditched my fork and ate with my right hand. We also saw a beautiful carpet shop in the town of Rissani, which is near Erfoud. Weaving carpets is considered an art form in Morocco. The patterns and colors were so intricate and delicate. I loved what the shop owner told me. He said “here in Morocco we put our hearts into carpet weaving…it’s our art form.” I wish they weren’t so expensive (though they were rightfully priced) because I fell in love with them. How cool would that be to have a tiny Moroccan carpet in your dorm room? Well, then again I think I wouldn’t want people stepping on it…ever.

Sunrise over Algeria

            Finally we made our last trek to the Sahara. And we did it in style. We took 4x4 SUVs and drove through the terrain to the desert. Yes it was as epic as it sounds. Imagine staring out the window at the emerging sand dunes on the horizon. I felt like I was flying. We were driving maybe about 70mph with the driver literally weaving through brush and trees. He blasted Arabic music and at one point (of course he slowed the speed first)  he JUMPED out of the car and ran along side of us. It was crazy! Then three hours later we were suddenly we there. I had made it to the Sahara.

            We rode on camels for about an hour during the sunset to our tents in the middle of the Sahara. We were lead by local tour guides. Camels are much taller than I thought, and they move so that you are whipped back and forth. I felt like a yoyo and I’m not going to lie it was a little painful at times. But riding on a camel through the endless maze of sand dunes was like living in a dream. What shocked me the most about the Sahara dunes is the absolute peace and simple beauty it holds. Be silent and stare around you. The dunes rise and dip like the humps of the camels. The only sound is that of blowing sand. It was so surreal. As the sun began to set, we dismounted the camels to watch the sunset. I kicked off my shoes and buried my feet in the warm desert sand. I was sitting on a sand dune in a state of complete serenity, watching the sunset over the Sahara when I heard a noise. Our camel guide suddenly whips out a cell phone from his robes and we all stare at him like he just pulled out a grenade. And I’ll never forget his amused smile as he said to us “technology in the desert.” Only in the Sahara.

            That night, as we slept in tents in the desert, I saw the brightest, most beautiful stars and moon. They were as clear as a National Geographic Photo. I couldn’t help but think of the star of Bethlehem because they were so brightly painted against the canvas of black. That night our camel guides played on Moroccan drums and we danced around a bonfire. Writing about my trip now makes me realize how lucky I was to go on this incredible journey. I think the Sahara will be a memory I will hold close to my heart forever. Shukran Morocco!

This little guy is called a sand fish...and they eat them

Blog 13: Salam Morocco! (Hello Morocco) Part 1

Blog 13: Salam Morocco!  (Hello Morocco!) Part 1

I really like this picture...Nat Geo worthy?

World's oldest tannery

            If living 8,000 miles from home wasn’t adventurous enough, I decided to embark on my first trip to Africa. I went with a tour but was traveling without a friend from school. I’m not going to lie, I was a little nervous to be traveling without a friend or family for the first time. The night before my stomach was doing somersaults (I said I prayer it wouldn’t be doing the same after I ate the food in Morocco!). I could almost feel the Sahara sand seeping through my toes and smell the desert air as I packed my bag the night before. I was certainly in for an adventure.

            After a three hour bus ride from Sevilla and a hour ferry ride across the calm Mediterranean Sea, I finally set my eyes on the third continent I will have set foot on. And this was honestly the first (highly educated) thing I thought…holy shit it’s Africa! Give me a break I’m from Hawaii. Never in my life had I thought that I’d be traveling in Africa. That was the first of many surreal moments I had during this trip. What I didn’t know was that Ceuta, the city where we landed, is still a part of Spain. As soon as we drove from Ceuta to the border I got my first dose of culture shock. There were people waiting around in the streets trying to cross the border into Ceuta. I saw two woman hunched over so that their chests were almost parallel to the ground. I watched as they carried who knows how many pounds of stuff on their backs. They both wore hijabs (head scarves) as many women do in Morocco. Then I saw a fight almost break out between some men, which had to be stopped by a border control police. Needless to say, I was relieved to be in the bus. Finally we got our passports stamped and we left the border, making our way into Morocco.

            First thing I learned about Northern Morocco…it’s not dry plain lands (thanks Disney for giving me the impression that all of Africa is like the Lion King). In fact it was overcast and raining as we drove through the rolling green hills and gulches of Northern Morocco. We finally arrived in Fes under the cover of fog. Fes was by far one of the most interesting places I’ve been. It’s actually a UNESCO World Heritage Site and called the “Mecca of the West.”  The city truly transports you back in time. In the Medina (the oldest part of the city) I felt as if I was whisked back to biblical times. Imagine you are walking through a maze of unpaved, narrow streets filled with small shops. Each shop has a specialty whether it be jewelry, pottery, meat, vegetable, leather hides, traditional wedding clothing, or weapons. At one point, I was staring at one of the shops that had live chickens in cages. Suddenly the owner grabbed a poor, squawking chicken by the neck and turned it upside down. I fled the scene, but still saw the man swiftly snap the chicken’s neck. There were also donkeys with packs on their backs being led through the streets. It took talent to avoid getting smashed against the wall by one. I also learned that people wash their vegetables and fill water bottles in public fountains since some houses don’t have running water. Oh yeah and forget about washing machines. Instead people wash their clothes in brackish looking water on the streets. We also saw a school where anyone can come to learn how to read and write. Can you imagine living in a country where learning how to read and write is a privilege? Finally we saw one of the most famous sights in Fes, the oldest leather tannery in the world. The strong odor of animal flesh drifted up to the balcony where I was staring down, in total awe. I wondered if I really was in the 20^th century as I looked at the stone vessels filled with dyes. Fes opened my eyes, but I had yet to see the Sahara desert.

To be continued….

King's Palace

Chickens

Blog 12: Ronda y Semana Santa

Blog 12: Ronda y Semana Santa

            Not only does Spain have siestas everyday but they also have a weeklong holiday called Semana Santa followed by another weeklong holiday called Feria just two weeks later! After all this pampering I don’t know how I’ll adjust back to my normal life. So I am now enjoying my time off during Semana Santa sipping some green tea and relaxing before my five-day trip to Morocco. This is my last blog to about Spain for the next three weeks. I think to do Morocco the justice it deserves I will write two in depth blogs about my experience there. Then a week after I’m spending a weekend in Portugal so I’ll have a blog about that too. So a short adios (bye) to Spain after this blog!

            Last Friday I awoke to the sound of falling rain. I wasn’t all that happy about the 100 percent chance of rain weather report because today we were going on a day trip to Ronda. Even though I would have rather stayed in my heated room, I tugged on my jacket a grabbed broken paraguas (umbrella). Despite rain, the drive to Ronda was absolutely gorgeous. There were lush green hills dotted with wildflowers everywhere with lakes cupped between them. I wish I could’ve taken a picture of it. Once in Ronda we saw one of the most naturally gorgeous sights I’ve seen since traveling in Spain. There’s a gorge the height of two football fields and the locals built a bridge above the gorge in order to connect both sides of their city. One of our professors said that one of her previous student fell off this gorge and miraculously survived making him famous in this town. Looking down, I couldn’t fathom how living through a terrifying fall like that is humanly possible. But I wasn’t about to prove my professor wrong by giving it a try myself (gulp)! And the rain became a beautiful blessing because a cascada (waterfall) was running in between the gorge. Seeing a waterfall is a rare occasion in Ronda so muchas gracias to the lluvia (rain)!

            After Ronda, Semana Santa finally began. Semana Santa is a religious holiday that is celebrated for a week in Catholic Spain. And I am very lucky because maybe the best place to experience Semana Santa in Spain is Sevilla because the people here go all out during this holiday. Passions run high and hundreds of people flood the calles (streets) to watch the processions. I’ve watched several processions and it was simply amazing. For an outsider the white túnica (tunic) and capirote (hood) that completely covers that face and has slits for only the eyes looks all a lot like the KKK. But this traditional attire predates the KKK (who sadly have made a horrible symbol out of this traditionally religious garb). Each brotherhood from the church walks in this dress holding a staff sized velas (candle). Others hold silver staffs and crests and some carry crosses barefoot show their penitence. In the cover of darkness the procession becomes a line of glowing candles that fill the air with the smell of wax. But the most impressive sights are the pasos (floats) carried throughout the streets.  It takes sixty men to carrying these. Some are golden with beautifully crafted figures playing out the scene of the Passion while others are of the Vigin Mary protected by a palio (canopy) and surrounded by dozens of candles and white flowers. Sweet incense is expelled as she passes and the crowded hushes as she makes her way through the streets. The tears streaking down her face are match by some people in the crowd as the Virgin Mary literally sways away, a beacon of light in the darkness. Even if you’re not religious, it’s impossible to not be stunned by the beautiful pasos (floats) and the fervent love people have for their faith.