Today's "theme" was closure. I feel very closed, if that was really the goal of the day. But today's amazing boat ride really did help close an outstanding study abroad experience. It was a little frustrating that the we spent so much time trying to fix the rig, that we could not kayak or go see a waterfall, but being on a boat at all was a huge blessing. I noticed that everyone seemed to get along better, and despite the seasickness, everyone enjoyed the trip. This class was definitely the best I have ever taken. I loved getting to apply classroom knowledge to the real world. Everyone should go on a trip like this. Not only will it bring an understanding of different cultures and promote empathy, it also teaches you so much about yourself. I've learned how I react in situations that I never imagined I would be in. I have learned the feeling of being discriminated against because of the color of my skin and where I was born. I've learned to not put stock in first impressions, because they were all very wrong about these wonderful people I have met and worked with. Most of all, I've learned that I cannot run away from my problems. But, I am strong enough to face them. It's interesting to watch people that grew up in vastly different worlds than you take on challenges that seem so impossible for you to take. I truly feel changed by this trip. Not necessarily in a monumental way, but definitely an internal perspective shift. The world seems smaller now. There are still so many people to meet and learn from. Being afraid of these experiences will not get me anywhere in this world, and I would live a lonely, unfulfilled life it I was. Thanks for the ride, Spain, it's been spectacular.
Psychology in the Byways of Spain
A compilation of my experiences while studying abroad in Spain.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
Occupation of Gibraltar
Today's theme was occupation. Gibraltar taught me a lot about it. I did not expect there to be much of a difference between Gibraltar and the rest of Spain. I thought that since Gibraltar was so small, so close to Spain, and so very far away from any other part of the United Kingdom, that the culture would be very Spanish and no different than any other small town in the area. I was very much mistaken.
As soon as we drove across the border, there was a shift. Part of it was tangible, such as signs in English, and red telephone boxes everywhere. However, there were many things that were more subtle. The general attitude of the English is starkly different than that of the Spanish. There were mannerisms that I have never seen before I stepped foot in Gibraltar. The English are very direct and seem to have an answer for everything.
Whereas the Spanish are content with sitting in casual conversation. I noticed a lot of English people talking quickly and with a short tonality. I have no idea if that really even makes sense. I noticed a lot of the English stereotypes coming out in a lot of people.
Most of them had good posture, and met quite a number of people with crooked teeth. The accent was very fun to listen to, and they talked with their hands quite a bit more than I am now used to. I was very surprised that there was such a culture shift between a difference of maybe a mile of land. I wonder how that could have happened. Since the United Kingdom took over that section of Spain for strategic reasons, I expected that the only English culture present would be produced from ancestors of the soldiers who fought for it so long ago. I wonder if the ruler of the United Kingdom at the time ordered English people to move there.
Regardless of the circumstances, the English culture is vital there, with Spanish trying to seep in. I image the Spanish who live on the other side of the border are very frustrated with the situation and want the land back that geographically should belong to them. The United Kingdom is so far from Gibraltar. From my perspective, it's very stubborn to keep this land, even with the strategic placement of the entrance to the sea. Since I highly doubt anyone but Spain will ever want such a big rock again, it seems like keeping the United Kingdom's culture undiluted would be the smartest plan. Looking at the current Ukraine situation, I would be worried about Spanish revolting against the occupation of Gibraltar. There is much tension near that border.
Visiting The Rock was neat. Monkeys roam free all over it, and I was able to get close to quite a few of them. They tend to grab at backpacks and food, so the keepers recommended not opening food while on the rock. I guess Jessica forgot, and I was standing too close to here when that happened. A monkey grabbed at my backpack because it smelled food. I wasn't scared, but very excited to have the opportunity of getting so close to such an intriguing creature.
As soon as we drove across the border, there was a shift. Part of it was tangible, such as signs in English, and red telephone boxes everywhere. However, there were many things that were more subtle. The general attitude of the English is starkly different than that of the Spanish. There were mannerisms that I have never seen before I stepped foot in Gibraltar. The English are very direct and seem to have an answer for everything.
Whereas the Spanish are content with sitting in casual conversation. I noticed a lot of English people talking quickly and with a short tonality. I have no idea if that really even makes sense. I noticed a lot of the English stereotypes coming out in a lot of people.
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Visiting The Rock was neat. Monkeys roam free all over it, and I was able to get close to quite a few of them. They tend to grab at backpacks and food, so the keepers recommended not opening food while on the rock. I guess Jessica forgot, and I was standing too close to here when that happened. A monkey grabbed at my backpack because it smelled food. I wasn't scared, but very excited to have the opportunity of getting so close to such an intriguing creature.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Discrimination
Today's theme was "eat, sleep, pray". I excelled at this theme. The day started out with a trip to church. There are very few members here, and the nearest ward met about thirty minutes away in a different town. The journey to the town was incredibly beautiful. The coastline is something that I could stare at for days on end. Church itself was also a beautiful expereince.
I was truly humbled, sitting in this little apartment they use for a chapel, watching these faithful saints. I had no idea how skewed my preception of other countries was. Although, when I compare my spiritual experience with theirs, I almost envy theirs. Maybe that's kind of weird to say. However, I don't mean it in a covetous way. I think I just really enjoyed seeing the church and its member's outside the Utah bubble. People are so different in culture, but so similar in their faith. It was very neat to meet those who were frum England on vacation. It just proved to me that the past and where you come from does not matter in terms of testimony. It was also a nice testimony moment that God doesn't care where or when you meet as a congregation, He only cares that you're trying to.
The rest of my day was spent mostly on the beach. Unfortunately, when I returned from church, I was left behind while everyone ate lunch. By the time I found everyone, they had already eaten. However, when I asked a waitress at a beach restaurant for a menu, I was told the kitchen was closed. I had a hard time believing that, as several people came in after me and were allowed to order. I just decided to leave and hung out on the beach instead. I have never been subjected to racism before. Maybe it sounds snobby, but it was never something I ever expected to happen to me. Later that day, I went back with a bigger group of girls and the bar tender said that the kitchen was open and handed us menus. We sat outside at a table and were ready to order within five minutes. However, the waitress that was rude to me earlier completely ignored any attempt of ours to get her to take our order. She did come over and take the pizza menu and said we couldn't order that. I don't understand why she gave us the menu in the first place! After we tried to flag the waitress for about twenty five more minutes, she came over and told us that the kitchen closed twenty minutes ago, and that we could not order. I was kind of upset. She was glaring at us as we walked away. I wanted to glare back actually. I don't get mad very often, but her rude attitude really bothered me. I am certainly going to be nicer to foreigners as a consequence of this "learning experience".
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The rest of my day was spent mostly on the beach. Unfortunately, when I returned from church, I was left behind while everyone ate lunch. By the time I found everyone, they had already eaten. However, when I asked a waitress at a beach restaurant for a menu, I was told the kitchen was closed. I had a hard time believing that, as several people came in after me and were allowed to order. I just decided to leave and hung out on the beach instead. I have never been subjected to racism before. Maybe it sounds snobby, but it was never something I ever expected to happen to me. Later that day, I went back with a bigger group of girls and the bar tender said that the kitchen was open and handed us menus. We sat outside at a table and were ready to order within five minutes. However, the waitress that was rude to me earlier completely ignored any attempt of ours to get her to take our order. She did come over and take the pizza menu and said we couldn't order that. I don't understand why she gave us the menu in the first place! After we tried to flag the waitress for about twenty five more minutes, she came over and told us that the kitchen closed twenty minutes ago, and that we could not order. I was kind of upset. She was glaring at us as we walked away. I wanted to glare back actually. I don't get mad very often, but her rude attitude really bothered me. I am certainly going to be nicer to foreigners as a consequence of this "learning experience".
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Almunecar
Today was the big travel day from Madrid to Almunecar. Although it was a struggle with car sickness for me, the city we are in now was worth the pain. The cities down here are small, white-washed, and full of little surprises everywhere. The people here are very friendly and are actually very similar to the American culture. This is most likely due to the large amounts of tourists that visit the town every summer. I can't believe we are so lucky to be a stone's throw away from the beach in a four and a half star hotel! The view from my balcony can simply not be beat. I could absolutely live here.
We went out to dinner at a little seaside restaurant right on the beach tonight. The waiter was very friendly and accommodating. In Spain, the waiters usually give you large amounts of time to choose the food you would like and to socialize after you are finished eating. This was very apparent when we waited twenty minutes for him to come back so we could order. But this food was the best I have had here. I had fish, and it was heaven. It was incredibly fresh and I was finally full after a meal! They served us warm, freshly baked bread and some delicious apple drinks after the meal.
This place is somewhere out of a dream. I walked around the town to get some gelato, and noticed how laid back everyone is here. There is no such thing as rushing anywhere, as the pace of life is extremely slow compared to America or other parts of Spain. I know this is due to the proximity of the ocean and the nature of having so many tourists on holiday here. The ocean brings a calm that you can't find anywhere but near it. Sitting on the beach tonight, getting a chance to reflect, I realized that I have come a long way from where I was a year ago. I still have my troubled days, but I am getting better. Almunecar is teaching me how to slow down.
We went out to dinner at a little seaside restaurant right on the beach tonight. The waiter was very friendly and accommodating. In Spain, the waiters usually give you large amounts of time to choose the food you would like and to socialize after you are finished eating. This was very apparent when we waited twenty minutes for him to come back so we could order. But this food was the best I have had here. I had fish, and it was heaven. It was incredibly fresh and I was finally full after a meal! They served us warm, freshly baked bread and some delicious apple drinks after the meal.
This place is somewhere out of a dream. I walked around the town to get some gelato, and noticed how laid back everyone is here. There is no such thing as rushing anywhere, as the pace of life is extremely slow compared to America or other parts of Spain. I know this is due to the proximity of the ocean and the nature of having so many tourists on holiday here. The ocean brings a calm that you can't find anywhere but near it. Sitting on the beach tonight, getting a chance to reflect, I realized that I have come a long way from where I was a year ago. I still have my troubled days, but I am getting better. Almunecar is teaching me how to slow down.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Spanian Birthday Party
Today is my birthday! It was, by far, the most eventful birthday I have had since birth. We started off the day in Sagovia, about an hour's drive from our hotel. This town was full of things and people to analyze. We stopped at a cathedral that was more on the reverent side, and I really enjoyed listening to the rhythm of the priest's prayer. We then headed to a much larger cathedral that was not being used to worship in at the time. The art was spectacular, and the history behind the building was incredibly romantic. We spent hours walking around, soaking up the environment and symbolism.
My one complaint was that the building was very cold inside. Being made of mostly marble, it was both symbolically and literally cold. However, despite the cold, watching the nuns here was a very peculiar experience. Comparing the nuns I came into contact here with the ones in Zaragoza, there were obvious differences. These ladies treated the building like any tourist would. They took pictures, despite the obvious signs that disallowed it, and spoke to one another more openly. I don't know the reasons behind this, but I would be interested to know where these nuns come from and if their day to day lives are different than others. Up until now, I have grouped nuns into one general category and never stopped to wonder if there were huge differences between convents.
The main attraction in this city is the ancient Roman aqueducts that surround the walled part of it. They are huge, and pictures do not do them justice. I am awed by the determination and ingenuity it must have taken to build them in order to have water flow int their city on a hill. I did stop and question if I would have been able to do come up with something similar in the same circumstances. Obviously, I like to think that I would. It's hard to play around with "what ifs" though.
After some down time, we were off to the bull fight. We made a party out of it and dressed up with previously purchased traditional Spanish attire. We had shawls and fans, and had placed red flowers in our hair. We received several compliments both on our way there and while in the arena. It seems that this type of dress is what is considered beautiful here, while in America; it would have seemed too much like a costume. The fight was the most intriguing thing I have ever witnessed. I came into it with the expectation of loving every second of it, and to some degree, it came to pass exactly how I prepared for it. My travel companions, on the other hand, discussed how worried they were about it for days before. Proper preparation on my end was incredibly helpful when they time came. I did not struggle with the idea of a dead animal until there was a brown one that came in. It had such big eyes and it looked so scared. But in the end, even though it was killed, I believe that it won the fight. It refused to play the matadors' game, and died standing up and proud.
There are three stages to the fight. In the beginning, the bull enters the arena and there are a few people in the arena with large capes. Their job is to tease the bull for a short period of time until the trumpets signal the next stage. This stage must not be very popular, because few audience members paid very much attention, and it did not last long. In the second stage, two horseman come out with spears. They then entice the bull to attack the horse, who is heavily padded, so that the horseman can spear it. These men must spear the bull twice before the next stage can begin. Then, two matadors attempt to stab the bull with two flag spears. This is done by running towards the bull and throwing their body to the side to avoid the horns at the last second. It's really scary to watch. After either three of four sets of these flags are placed in the bull's back, the the trumpets signal the final stage. The matador whose bull it is steps to the middle of the arena with a smaller cape and a sword. The goal for the matador is to tire the bull and then stab a sword into its back by running towards it and avoiding the horns. There is quite a bit of dramatics in this stage, as this is when the matador will be judged. If the sword does not stick, the dance must be redone until it does. As soon as this is over, all the other matadors come out and run the bull over and over again to tire it. This is done in an attempt to get the bull to kneel at the feet of the matador. This seems to be the final moment where the matador is appraised as good enough. After the bull kneels, one of the other matadors stab a small knife into the brain stem to fully kill it. Some horse then ride out and drag the body around and out of the arena to start the next fight. There were six fights, two for each matador.
It was informative to watch and listen to the natives around me while watching the sport. It was eye-opening to me to see that they treated it like Americans treat basketball or football. They were passing around plates of food, smoking cigars, and occasionally yelling something out to the arena. I felt like I was at some bizarre Superbowl party. Those around us were very kind though, and offered us their pastry plate.
I very much enjoyed the whole experience. I was very easily able to leave my views on the matter of animal cruelty at the door, and step into the Spanish paradigm. I would go back if I could. I am glad that this unique part of Spanish culture is still alive.
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After some down time, we were off to the bull fight. We made a party out of it and dressed up with previously purchased traditional Spanish attire. We had shawls and fans, and had placed red flowers in our hair. We received several compliments both on our way there and while in the arena. It seems that this type of dress is what is considered beautiful here, while in America; it would have seemed too much like a costume. The fight was the most intriguing thing I have ever witnessed. I came into it with the expectation of loving every second of it, and to some degree, it came to pass exactly how I prepared for it. My travel companions, on the other hand, discussed how worried they were about it for days before. Proper preparation on my end was incredibly helpful when they time came. I did not struggle with the idea of a dead animal until there was a brown one that came in. It had such big eyes and it looked so scared. But in the end, even though it was killed, I believe that it won the fight. It refused to play the matadors' game, and died standing up and proud.
There are three stages to the fight. In the beginning, the bull enters the arena and there are a few people in the arena with large capes. Their job is to tease the bull for a short period of time until the trumpets signal the next stage. This stage must not be very popular, because few audience members paid very much attention, and it did not last long. In the second stage, two horseman come out with spears. They then entice the bull to attack the horse, who is heavily padded, so that the horseman can spear it. These men must spear the bull twice before the next stage can begin. Then, two matadors attempt to stab the bull with two flag spears. This is done by running towards the bull and throwing their body to the side to avoid the horns at the last second. It's really scary to watch. After either three of four sets of these flags are placed in the bull's back, the the trumpets signal the final stage. The matador whose bull it is steps to the middle of the arena with a smaller cape and a sword. The goal for the matador is to tire the bull and then stab a sword into its back by running towards it and avoiding the horns. There is quite a bit of dramatics in this stage, as this is when the matador will be judged. If the sword does not stick, the dance must be redone until it does. As soon as this is over, all the other matadors come out and run the bull over and over again to tire it. This is done in an attempt to get the bull to kneel at the feet of the matador. This seems to be the final moment where the matador is appraised as good enough. After the bull kneels, one of the other matadors stab a small knife into the brain stem to fully kill it. Some horse then ride out and drag the body around and out of the arena to start the next fight. There were six fights, two for each matador.
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I very much enjoyed the whole experience. I was very easily able to leave my views on the matter of animal cruelty at the door, and step into the Spanish paradigm. I would go back if I could. I am glad that this unique part of Spanish culture is still alive.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
The Psychology of Art
Today's theme was obviously art. The Prado museum was incredibly enriching. I learned a ton about expression and about myself while exploring the millions of rooms. I love art, but I have never had such an eye-opening experience with it before. I learned quite a bit a bout the significance of little details in a painting. These masterpieces were full of beautiful metaphors and hidden symbols. My favorite piece was entitled "Descent from the Cross" by Weyden. I'm not sure I could really explain why it moved me the way that it did. The work had so much obvious technique and emotion put into into it, that I probably spent fifteen minutes just staring at it. I was awed by the way the artist played with the lighting and the skin texture. Mary was portrayed passed out next to Christ, who was being liften from the cross. But even if I did not understand the background story, I could see the differences in skin tone of someone who had lost consciousness as opposed to someone who had died. It was quite a feat, I thought. My other favorite piece was the veiled queen statue. It was incredible the way the artist was able to make stone looke see through! I can see why these pieces of art are adored and so cautiously perserved. It's a built-in frontal lobe thing that humans alone have. We seem to have a drive to create new and interesting things. It's manifested in different ways and mediums (construction, art, music), but every culture has some form of art they treasure.
The Botanical Gardens were quite beautiful as well. It's been very apparent to me that flowers are a integral part of Spain's culture. The gardens were huge and very pretty with so many different kinds of plants in full bloom. It was wonderful to see so many elderly people enjoying the weather by strolling through the park with their spouses. I have noticed more of an emphasis on the family in this country. There seems to be more traditional families walking together. I noticed while we were out to lunch today that there was a lot of involvement of the father with the children. I get the sense in the United States that it "it isn't a man's job to raise the children". It appears that this country is conservative in this way compared to the States.
The festival tonight involved a firework show that I had the chance to attend. I thought it was spectacular! The show itself was comparable to Disneyland's. The music was great and the atmosphere was invigorating. The more time I spend in this beautiful country, the more I come to realize that people everywhere share more commonalities than differences. People are people. They all have the same basic desires and needs, they are just met in unique ways. I am so grateful to be experiencing life through Spain's eyes.
The Botanical Gardens were quite beautiful as well. It's been very apparent to me that flowers are a integral part of Spain's culture. The gardens were huge and very pretty with so many different kinds of plants in full bloom. It was wonderful to see so many elderly people enjoying the weather by strolling through the park with their spouses. I have noticed more of an emphasis on the family in this country. There seems to be more traditional families walking together. I noticed while we were out to lunch today that there was a lot of involvement of the father with the children. I get the sense in the United States that it "it isn't a man's job to raise the children". It appears that this country is conservative in this way compared to the States.
The festival tonight involved a firework show that I had the chance to attend. I thought it was spectacular! The show itself was comparable to Disneyland's. The music was great and the atmosphere was invigorating. The more time I spend in this beautiful country, the more I come to realize that people everywhere share more commonalities than differences. People are people. They all have the same basic desires and needs, they are just met in unique ways. I am so grateful to be experiencing life through Spain's eyes.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Becoming Spanish
Today's theme was appreciation for culture. I saw some amazing examples of this theme today. The Roman ruins were very thought-provoking. When we were visiting the ruins and discussing how the ancient hierarchy was set up, I couldn't help but notice significant similarities between our culture and theirs. It seems to boil down to the decisions of the upper class. It seems that those decisions dictate the social protocol within society. The exception to this is revolution, but the standard is to conform to the majority and that laws that have been made "by the people". Unfortunately, this stifles opposite minority opinions. It's amazing how much significance could be found in a pile of strategically placed crumbling rock. I very much enjoyed the little cathedral that was empty at the time. Although it was not as intricate or as ornate, it was beautiful. The lack of hustle and bustle, the fewer number of people, and the quiet reverence really appealed to me. There is importance to quiet moments of reflection in a sacred place. There is value to having a devotion to a higher cause, and to better yourself. I love that this need to connect to a higher power is a common theme throughout the world I've visited so far.
The festival that we serendipitously came across was definitely the best part of the day. Madrid is an amazing place. The people here are more friendly than Barcelona and the pace of life is much slower. I have seen quite a few more families here than anywhere I have been in Spain. I love all of the traditional Spanish clothing at the festival! We had the chance to see some very good opera performers and listen to a fantastic orchestra. I was in love with the way it emphasized Spanish culture.
I forgot to mention the amazing little town that we had the pleasure of stopping in on the way to Madrid. Santa Maria was its name. The stereotypical Spanish town. When I thought about what Spain would look like, Santa Maria is what I pictured. It was exciting that we stopped in town right in the middle of the siesta period of the day. This town actually participates in the custom, unlike Barcelona. I may have seen four other people the entire time we were in the town. After perusing a local cemetery, we drove into the countryside behind the town. I can definitely understand why the original settlers chose that spot. This country is beautiful in a way I have never seen. The people are fascinating to watch in their day to day interactions, the culture is new and exciting, and the landscape is breathtaking. Plus, chocolate and churros are an amazing combination!
The festival that we serendipitously came across was definitely the best part of the day. Madrid is an amazing place. The people here are more friendly than Barcelona and the pace of life is much slower. I have seen quite a few more families here than anywhere I have been in Spain. I love all of the traditional Spanish clothing at the festival! We had the chance to see some very good opera performers and listen to a fantastic orchestra. I was in love with the way it emphasized Spanish culture.
I forgot to mention the amazing little town that we had the pleasure of stopping in on the way to Madrid. Santa Maria was its name. The stereotypical Spanish town. When I thought about what Spain would look like, Santa Maria is what I pictured. It was exciting that we stopped in town right in the middle of the siesta period of the day. This town actually participates in the custom, unlike Barcelona. I may have seen four other people the entire time we were in the town. After perusing a local cemetery, we drove into the countryside behind the town. I can definitely understand why the original settlers chose that spot. This country is beautiful in a way I have never seen. The people are fascinating to watch in their day to day interactions, the culture is new and exciting, and the landscape is breathtaking. Plus, chocolate and churros are an amazing combination!
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