30 November 2009

Cross-Cultural Adventures

When I left for Denmark in August, there were only a few things I was fully expecting. One of these was that, this year, folks, there would be no Thanksgiving. I was more than ok with that. As a holiday, Thanksgiving is really just time set aside to spend with family before the Christmas rush, and since I knew I wouldn't be seeing family for 4 months anyway, it wasn't a big deal that I'd miss it. But after Kirsten approached me about joining forces with her to make Thanksgiving dinner if I was in Denmark over Thanksgiving break (which was also two extra free days I didn't expect to have), I realized that this was a wonderful opportunity to share some of my culture with those who I've been learning from the past three months.

And so it was set: I decided what dishes were most essential, asked my mother to send recipes from home, and then Kirsten and I went through the ingredients and worked out what we needed to buy and what could actually be found in Danish stores. We pretty much knew from the start that there wouldn't be any frozen turkeys in the grocery stores of Solrød Strand, but turkey breast was a fine substitute. Cranberries, sweet potatoes, and green beans were all fairly easy to pick up as well, while explaining and finding chicken broth was a bit of a challenge. The thing that gave me the most trouble, though, was my insistence on having pumpkin pie. Rumors of canned pumpkin in an imported American food aisle at a Super Best in Frederiksberg had been circling through the students at DIS, but attempts at finding this mythical place failed miserably. And there were some people who ended up buying pickled pumpkin in a jar without realizing that it's not what they wanted. So, while I come from a family that always buys pie from the store at home, I was now faced with making it from an actual pumpkin.

Of course, all the Danes had to work or go to school, so I gave myself the task of waking up early enough to get started. Kirsten had set out for me things I would need, but, nevertheless, if anyone had been watching me cook the whole time, I imagine they would have thought it quite comical. There was one scale for measuring things in grams, but I ended up using it only a few times. Mostly, I would just search for a container that looked like a cup, fill it to what I thought was the correct place, and ran with it. Luckily, they actually have proper tablespoons and teaspoons here, so I think those measurements turned out rather well. It ended up being me on the pumpkin pie (and seeds!), sweet potato casserole, and the stuffing, while Kirsten came in later to make the turkey, cranberry sauce, and green beans, and Nanna (my host-sister) baked some bread.

The result? Success! I wasn't sure how much of the Thanksgiving spirit was going to go into the meal, but the table was set with the nice plates, the extra pumpkin I bought served as a centerpiece, red wine was set out, and two family friends who had been at the house for the advent crafts came over to join us. It was definitely Thanksgiving--chatting away and eating more food than our stomachs could handle (though I think the Danes participated less in that factor, which isn't a bad thing). Though, a word to the wise if you plan to try this on your own: leave out the sweet potato casserole. While the marshmallows on top were a novelty, the Danes generally consider it too sweet for a side-dish. Stuffing, on the other hand, is a big hit (even with the people who don't like celery!).

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The rest of my break I spent relaxing, working very slowly towards my final psychology of happiness synthesis, and catching up on a few sights in Copenhagen. On Friday, I went to the Nationalmuseet, which is a completely free museum that includes a permanent collection on Danish history (pre-historic to present), as well as a portion of the oddities collections from former kings (Kongens Kunstkammer). To be honest, I was unimpressed with the museum as a whole. They had nice facilities, but the presentation was cluttered and confusing, and it was often so dark that my eyes were straining, so I couldn't absorb what I was reading. However, I am glad I went, as the museum helped me see history in the western world at a larger level than I am used to.  While artifacts from the viking age were something new for me to see, once I had progressed through the exhibits into the late 1800's, everything seemed rather familiar.  Granted, the recent political patterns in Denmark are much different than in the US, the Danes was affected much more by the world wars, and there was no western expansion in Denmark.  But the artifacts themselves--clothing styles, furniture, technology, propaganda from social movements--are very similar in each era across the continents of the western world.  One of the most bizarre things was to watch Danish people and music in propaganda-type films on farming from the 1930's, and then there was a display about how big Elvis and The Beatles were in the in the 50s and 60s.  Once I think back on it, these realizations should have been obvious beforehand:  I know what globalization is!  This just puts it into perspective; it's been a long time coming.

On the contrary, America is way behind on globalizing the goodness of Danish beer culture, as I learned from both a microbrewery tasting on Wednesday night and a visit to Carlsberg (which included tastes of some specialty brews) on Saturday.

24 November 2009

And Then There Was One

It's so hard to believe that a few days days ago I crossed the three month point, and now there's only one left.  It's actually just the right amount of time to make a mix of feelings, really.  Travel break is over, so I can loosen up the purse a little bit and buy some more gifts and enjoy the Christmas markets that are popping up.  Then I'm both motivated and anxious about getting all my papers done (one decent-sized paper for each of my 5 classes).  This was an especially weird feeling, because coming back from travel break I had all these papers in mind, so I was motivated to push through them.  But I also found that I was comfortable enough on return to Copenhagen that I was moving into my American routines instead of ones I had created when entering this new environment (i.e. lots of procrastinating and staying up late--which I guess is more of a reaction to a sudden influx in workload--instead of staying more on top of things and going to bed early).  I'm relieved that things are coming to an end and soon everything can be normal-ish again, but I'm sad it's almost over and a little unsure how the month and half until school starts will go.  And THEN I'm excited to use Thanksgiving break and some of the remaining weekends to pick up things I missed in Copenhagen, and enjoy the jul atmosphere! 

This last part has been going pretty well.  Since I had 4 days until classes started when I returned to Denmark, and I had no travel pass to get me into the city, I decided to venture outside of my normal transportation zones into Roskilde.  I went mostly on a personal mission to see more of Denmark than I have been (though this doesn't near complete seeing the entire country), and, considering my recent revelation about churches, I thought it would be important to visit the Roskilde Domkirke (Cathedral).

It was a cold Saturday, but I found a pleasant city of about 55,000 (close in size to my hometown in America), with shops lining the old streets, a placque honoring Denmark's first railroad from Roskilde to København in 1847, and a weekend market with fresh produce, music from political campaigns, and some pretty nifty antiques (I almost bought this really awesome old bottle opener, but instead opted for the pre-WWII Carlsberg soda water bottle). While there were quite a few British and American tourists around, and the municipal signs included English portions, it was nice that the town retained a distinctly Danish feel.  That's one thing I've noticed when visiting smaller Danish towns: there's a distinct look to the older architecture and layout, especially with similar designs for brick churches.  The Domkirke was no exception, although it was on a much grander scale and dramatically changed the skyline.

While I was not nearly as affected by the cathedral in Roskilde as I was by St. Vitus in Prague (which may not be a fair comparison, to be honest), it certainly had its merits.  But then again, no one goes to see the Domkirke for the cathedral itself, but for the chapels surrounding the sanctuary, which are all magnificent tombs for the Danish monarchs.  Some of the tombs were marked not only as "King of Denmark" but also added "Norway and Sweden," which is a fascinating reminder that Denmark was once much more powerful than it is now.  Unfortunately, I missed some of the more important tombs due to reconstruction, but I'm still glad I went.  AND it was weird to see the very back wall behind the altar lined with portraits of bishops instead of holy chapels--as it would be seen in a normal cathedral.

I then walked to the Viking Ship Museum, which houses the remains of 5 viking ships recovered from the harbor.  It wasn't an incredibly extensive museum, but I did get to try on viking clothes, and at least the walk there led me around 3 different natural (although not potable) springs used for healing and water supply in centuries past.  One of them (Maglekilde--the large spring) produces 15,000 liters a day, which is 1/6 of it's former production. (On a side note, I just noticed that "kilde" must mean "spring," which means that "roskilde" is something about a spring.  Unfortunately, "roskilde" isn't in my dictionary, and "ros" means something about praise, so, I have a feeling that MAY not be the meaning. A few websites say the name derives from King Roar.)


Finally (and you may not stop hearing about this for a while), Christmas is really starting to settle in!  Køge and Vesterbro have hung greens across the streets, while Tivoli is alight in white, and Nyhavn by the harbor has a Christmas market set up.  But my favorite thing, by far, is the advent candle crafts that Kirsten (my host-mom), Nanna (my host-sister), and two neighbors made last Sunday.  I had a group project that kept me from joining in for very long, but I got so excited when I saw the table was covered in a craft table cloth!  Not only did we munch on æbleskiver (balls of pancake batter) with jam and powdered sugar, sipping on gløgg (spiced wine--in this case, white wine with white raisins), but, I got to decorate a Christmas candle for my room with a tray, some moss, and pine cones.  Every one else had been making these as an annual tradition for several years, so I just tried to sit back and watch what they were making--from individual candles, to a tray with a large candle you burn down a little bit for each numbered day until Christmas, and a tray with four large white candles for advent.  Nevertheless, I thought mine turned out all right--smiling wooden angels and all. 

19 November 2009

Pick Your Party

As the first election posters for the major parties started showing up in mid-October, I was amused both by the universality of political campaigns and my sorry attempts at guessing what the parties were promising.  Copenhagen and the trains were the only places with posters that really focused on issues, while the suburbs were just plagued by a face and a name/party name on every light pole down the main streets.



But all of that was nothing compared to this past week, as parties geared up for the kommune (municipal) elections on Tuesday.  I knew Denmark had a multi-party system, but this was just insane.  Not only did the Venstre ("left") party hand out croissants Monday morning as people entered the train stations, but the streets of Copenhagen suffered from a poster explosion of more designs and party names than I could count.  In my opinion, some of them were the type that had no business in politics--existing only for the sake of one agenda (the most vocal of which was a party hoping to save Christiania).  Granted, I'm not exactly happy with the American stuck-with-two-parties system either, where many voters have to sacrifice some of their opinions in order to prioritize others, or choose solely on social issues (this includes myself), because it's what divides our country the most.  However, I need to learn more about both systems before I can decide which I prefer.

And surprisingly, only the poster with the picture of the blowup doll was fake, while the Liberal Alliance's promise for free parking and the satirical recommendations of the Nihilistic People's Party were completely legitimate.  Though, to be fair, I don't believe the NPP was even trying to win, but instead pointing out the failures of politics.  According to their website, they want to get rid of church bells, save baby seals, and make the metro more lively with psychedelic colors.



The Red-Green Alliance/Unity List--the far left party;  not sure what it says on it, though.












"Stop churchbells!  Fuck your salvation--we have a hangover."

18 November 2009

The Danish Resistance

I went with my Danish class to the Danish Resistance Museum today, which is a free of charge, nationally owned museum over by the Kastellet and the Little Mermaid.  I've been learning a lot about more about European history in the past week (well, since Prague, really). That's something I'm really grateful for, since it's a topic that my high school education severely lacked (I didn't even learn that much about WWII in those years).  For example, today was the first time I learned just how much of Europe was controlled or allied with Germany, and the rest were either apathetic or British (and half of France).  I'm astonished at those odds. 

Denmark, obviously, is a small country, and it would be incorrect to say that it played a large role in WWII.  Despite this small effect on the grand scheme of things, Denmark still has its own stories and battles.  Our tour guide through the museum was a young Dane whose grandfather and great-uncle were both part of the Resistance Movement.  I don't know how much of that affected his decision to work in the museum, but it certainly added more reality to the history he told us.  Yes, even the small Danish tribe lost children by orders of hate and under the name of patriotism.  As a temporary resident, it was also enlightening to realize what happened here.  In footage of the German invasion on 9 April 1940, I thought I spotted the town square in Køge, and footage from the liberation on 5 May 1945 included scenes from the plaza down the street of my school.  It was slightly more eerie to realize that a movie we watched referred to the Nazi headquarters as Dagmarhus, which is a building I pass everyday on my way to class. 

If you don't mind, I'd like to (succinctly) share some of the history I learned with you, since I feel that it was a fairly unique situation.  Denmark did cooperate with Germany with the occupation, as it allowed the government to stay in control of daily affairs.  While this was unfortunate, as it kept resistance movements from sprouting and made Denmark a tool for Nazi weaponry, it was a good situation for the state itself.  There's an old tale about how the King Christian X ordered all Danes to wear a Jewish star to stand in solidarity with the Danish Jews, but this is simply a story that sprouted from a statement the king had once made. In reality, the star was never introduced to Denmark because the Danes managed to hold basic control.

When the resistance did start to appear, the first group were boys aged 14-17 who called themselves the Churchill Club (Dumbledore's Army, anyone?) and sabotaged German buildings.  Although they were ordered for arrest, this was not entirely the case, as Danish law stipulates that no one under 15 can go to jail.  But in time, organized resistance increased, with the "liquidation" of Danish traitors, aided by the blind eye provided by most law enforcement groups.  Activity especially increased after the Danish government absolved on 29 August 1943, and chaos ensued on 26 June 1944 when the Vesterbro district began an uprising.  Granted, not everyone felt that these violent methods were the right way to handle the situation.

Finally, the most uplifting part of the story is how Denmark was able to save over 95% of their Jewish population.  Of 7,000 Jews in Denmark, 116 died, which is a stark comparison to the number of deaths in the remaining German-occupied countries.  Around 6,000 of them escaped to Sweden when the Nazi giving the order for their arrest sent advance notification.  Of the remainder, about half stayed in hiding in Denmark, while the other half were sent to Terezín, in the Czech Republic (which I had mentioned in my entry about Prague).  Conditions, of course, were terrible in the ghetto, but it's said that the Danish Red Cross often sent officials to check that they were being treated sufficiently (although sometimes what they saw and approved was a propaganda hoax).

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In other news, today is the worst weather I have yet to see in Denmark.  I'm ok with it being cold and rainy, but it's also too windy for my hood to stay up, and I was wearing flats.  I even heard thunder for the first time since I've been here.  What's worse is that the weather encouraged me to break a HUGE rule in Denmark:  crossing when the street when the light is red, and cars are about to start driving again.  I just really didn't want to be stuck in the wind on the median.

17 November 2009

J-dag og Fødselsdage

Before I commenced on my travels a few weeks ago, I had a few remaining responsibilities:  plan an itinerary for Spain, pack, and remember to enjoy Denmark.  I crossed two of these off Friday night (30 October), when Nina and I met for planning, drank a cranberry (holiday?) version of Somersby's (a very sweet cider that's popular here), and went out into Køge to celebrate J-dag:  the annual release night of Tuborg's Julebryg (Christmas brew).

When I started seeing ads for J-dag in early October, I was disgusted that the commercial beginning of the Christmas season was the day before Halloween.  But as the clouds became more regular, the sky darkened a little more each day, and I grew accustomed to the lack of Halloween spirit, the idea of celebrating Christmas didn't seem so heinous.  Either way, it's not like J-dag is really about Christmas, anyway; it's about selling some beer.  The marketing behind J-dag rivals the perpetuation of Valentine's Day in the United States.  True, the decorations aren't quite as extensive, nor is it celebrated in schools for children under the age of 16 (and yes, the schools DO host J-dag parties for the 16 and over crowd after school.  No joke).  However, it's still an excuse for a big, national party that includes a song (to the tune of "Jingle Bells") and free rides on the s-train to anyone who's headed to the bars.

Neither Nina or I felt that we were able to feel the true spirit of J-dag (there was somewhat of a cultural barrier in joining the crowd), but it was still an experience to observe the college-aged kids dressed up in blue trousers, dresses, and as a Christmas tree, distributing more Julebryg to the various pubs.  As for the beer?  We thought it was the worst Tuborg we've ever had, which is saying something, because I don't like regular Tuborg in the first place.  But if the celebration surrounding it sells, then keep brewing, Tuborg!

I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a family birthday (fødselsdag) party for host-parent's nephew on the next day, as well as a surprise birthday breakfast the day after that.  This is the first time I've done any birthday celebrating in Denmark, but they're pretty much like any other get together, except this time with Danish flags as a key theme of decor.  Bringing food to someone's house and waking them up on their birthday morning isn't all that uncommon (as was done Sunday morning, which I have to admit was a little strange).  There's also a birthday song with too many words for me to remember (and 4 verses, apparently! though they usually sing two).  I've also learned from my host family that for the big birthday parties (and baptism, confrimation, anniversaries, and weddings), friends and family actually write humorous songs about the person to common tunes.  I think that would be a really nice tradition to have in the US, though I'm certainly not the type of person to start doing it on my own!

The birthday party on Halloween was definitely a lot of fun, though, as I had just gotten a Halloween package from my mom and we brought some of the candy over to share.  There were mixed reviews on the candy corn, but Rene seemed to like it, and thought they looked like teeth.  I'd never thought of them that way before, but when my host-mom's sister stuck them in her mouth like fangs, I could definitely see that interpretation.

P.S.  I learned today that there's a cemetery in Edinburgh near the cafe where JK Rowling first started writing Harry Potter.  Apparently, there are headstones for someone named McGonagall, and both a Tom Riddle Jr. and Tom Riddle Sr.  I now feel like a Harry Potter Fan Epic Fail for not finding it.

15 November 2009

Can I call myself an international individual yet?

In the 20 days since I last posted, I have not only had some Danish cultural experiences, but also have embarked to Barcelona and Madrid in Spain and to Prague during the 2-week travel break that DIS offers us to explore a little of greater Europe on our own terms.  I promise that I will attempt to give these adventures their due attention in my writing, and while I'm going to divide the entry into sections for each city (you can click the links above to skip down to those sections), I want to note that the post will probably have a more holistic perspective than what I would have written had I done so day-by-day (or even city-by-city).

Overall, the travel break was certainly a new experience for me, not only planning how to get there and where to stay on my own, but what to do, what to eat, and how to navigate my way through it all.  Language was certainly a barrier, since I felt like I know more Danish than I do Spanish (although my Latin background and common sense helped me understand what was going on most of the time), and once in the Czech Republic I knew NOTHING about any of the words I saw, except that I couldn't pronounce it right if I tried.  I'm proud of myself (if I'm allowed to say so), and it made me feel a little stronger and wiser for the wear.

One end-result that I found interesting was my eagerness to return to Copenhagen at the end of it all.  I don't think it was just that I was looking for the relief of familiarity after the exhausting demands of traveling and sightseeing (even after only 11 days!).  No, visiting a few other European cities helped me realize how much I like Copenhagen as a city itself.  While in Edinburgh and Glasgow, I was restless wondering why I hadn't studied in Scotland, my trip this time around left me more satisfied with my decision to go to Denmark.  Whether just a cognitive reaction or my true opinion on the matter, that's certainly a good feeling to have.


Barcelona:  Sunday 01 - Wednesday 04 November
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I don't know what I was expecting in Barcelona.  I knew it was going to be warm down by the Mediterranean, but as far as the mood of the city goes, I think I was picturing it alternately as the cold, yet spiritual ghost-town from Jewel's song "Barcelona" (yes, released when I was in 3rd grade), and then as whimsical place with music and spirit vibrating from Gaudí's mosaics (which, thanks to my longtime friend Ellen, I have been dying to see since I was 12). Surprise surprise, it was neither.  We (my friend Nina and I) arrived on the evening of the first, but there was still enough time to take in some of the city's atmosphere and get confused trying to order some less-than-appetizing food and water from a non-native Spanish speaker.  Maybe part of it was the palm trees and the colorful skyscraper our our hostel window, but there was something about the city that felt more like we were on vacation in LA or Miami than on a cultural tour in Europe. 


The first day we spent walking almost the entire length of the city from Eixample right above the Gothic Old Town (on the coast) to the mountain bordering the northern edge, where we could have taken a funicular railroad up to an amusement park had we arrived an hour earlier (instead, we had a drink at a bar that overlooked the entire city; so that was pretty nice).  It was mainly our own version of a walking tour of Antoni Gaudí's buildings, starting with La Sagrada Familia, down to Casa Batllo, La Pedrera, Casa Vicens, and on up to the public park he designed:  Park Güell.  For the most part, I love the curves and colors in Gaudí's architecture and public art, especially with La Pedrera and the forms of paths and structures in Park Güell.  But for some reason, it also felt a little dirty and out of place within the context of Barcelona, and I was a little turned off by  Park Güell, both for it's lack of open, grassy space and because it was originally funded by Count Eusebi Güell to be an upperclass garden city, closed off to the general public.  It's understandable that you can't enjoy the interiors of his buildings without paying some pretty ridiculous prices (which I didn't indulge myself on), but his outdoor art could not have just been made for the sake of beautifying the city?  I guess too I was a little irked that I had based my feeling of Barcelona off his work, when really it doesn't characterize the bustle of the city at all.  While all Modernisme buildings are unique in their own right, other ones (like Casa Amattler) have a more traditional architectural style that just fits more with the character of the city.  I realize that Gaudí was integral part of the Modernisme movement, which is specific to Barcelona, but may I politely wonder if his work might have been better in another city?

BUT, just because I was a little disappointed with this does not mean I didn't have an excellent time.  On days two and three, we explored much more concentrated, yet touristy areas--including Wednesday when we mostly hung out on the beach in the mica-dusted sparkling sand, ate paella for a late lunch, and went to the ever-so-prestigious museum of chocolate.  La Rambla, the main tourist street, was absolutely crazy with pet store kiosks, not-too-talented street performers, and annoying vendors selling pitos (this mouthpiece that helps you make animals noises, I swear, I was so sick of those sounds by the time I got to Prague).  We even stumbled across our first Mercat (the Catalan word for "market"; in Madrid the name was Mercado, and the concept is common across Spain, apparently)--huge, age-old shelter structures with stalls that opened every day to sell fresh produce, fish, meat, ice cream, and all sorts of goodies.  This one had beautiful stained glass panels on the facade. 

Just to the east of La Rambla was the old Gothic town, with streets windier, taller, narrower, and darker than any alley I've seen in Copenhagen.  Many of the upper floors were apartments with laundry or plants hanging off the patio, and it felt odd to be walking through common class residential areas in the middle of the tourist district.  But, from the gorgeous cathedral with it's secluded chapels surrounding a courtyard and goose pond, and the remnants of original Roman walls surrounding the city, the Gothic section of town definitely was the most charming.  On Tuesday morning we went underground to the ruins of Barcino (the original Roman city), where they showed us sections that used to be used for laundry and garum.  There weren't a lot of detailed artifacts remaining, but it was still very cool to see the foundations of buildings that are 8 meters beneath the rest of the modern city. That afternoon after lunch, we headed to the Museu d'Picasso, where I was really surprised to see some of the sophistication in Picasso's earlier paintings (and childish mishaps in his earliest ones), as well as some of his pottery work, which was super cool.  The museum also features his 58-image series of reinterpretations of Velaquez's Las Meninas.  It was really interesting how looking first at Picasso's image, I had a lot of apprecation for them and the work that was put into finding the perfect abstract forms.  But after viewing the video that compared Picasso's work with the sections of Velaquez's original, it seemed like a pathetic attempt of a copy.  It's strange how things work that way.

We were really fortunate in Barcelona to meet up a few times with Nina's friend Lucy who was studying there for the semester.  I like learning about things wherever I go, and that's hard to do when you don't know much of the language, the English displays are limited, and you don't want to dish out a lot of money for tours.  So Lucy was not only a nice companion to show us some of the city life, but she was also a great resource for learning about politics in Barcelona and Catalan language and history in the context of the rest of Spain.  On Tuesday, she showed us a restaurant for lunch called La Champagneria (I think), where for every two sandwiches you bought, you could get a bottle of cava (traditional Catalan sparkling wine) for 2 Euro.  There were no seats at all to sit, just a crowded bar you had to push through to order, and small ledges to set your bottle and glasses, while sandwiches were kept in a wrap in your hand.  It's not something I'd like to experience as a regular lunch routine, but it was certainly a fun time, laughing and attempting to converse over the din of loud Catalans crowded in a small space, drinking more cava than I should at one in the the afternoon, and enjoying some pretty good smoked salmon.  It's also a little odd that lunchtime ended up being more exciting than that evening when we met up with some of the IES Barcelona students to chill outside at a bar in Plaza del Sol in the Gràcia district. That area of town was very pretty at night (and it was already pretty in the day), with magnolia trees, the lantern lights, and only the quiet murmur from the bars (though that might have been because 11 pm was still too early in the evening for things to really get started).


Madrid:  Thursday 05 - Saturday 07 November
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Nina and I took the Renfe overnight train from Barcelona to Madrid, which was an experience in itself that I wasn't really expecting.  Even though we had paid 10 more Euro to get bunks, I think the coach seats might have been just as good a deal, considering I was stuck in a tiny compartment with 6 bunks, pillows no more than a centimeter thick, and a girl right above me who hissed at me when I accidentally hit the bottom of her bed after I had gotten up for a bit (even though she was awake and watching something on her phone the entire time?).  It was also during the night on the train that I started catching some sort of flu, and by the morning I was not in the mood to do anything.  I had to, since we couldn't check-in to the hostel until noon, but we were able to drop our stuff off, chill out in the weather that once again felt like November (a surprisingly nice change), and warm ourselves up with our first taste of churros dipped in incredible, thick hot chocolate.  However, once we did check-in, I was too sick to get back up and out to the city until 5 or so.


While Barcelona is a little smaller than Copenhagen, Madrid is enormous.  But we chose only to stay in Old Town and Bourbon Town, which was small enough that we didn't have to use the metro at all except getting from the train station and to the airport.  With the help of a guidebook on Spain and a little internet research in the evening, we were able to learn some about the old buildings and sculptures we passed as we walked back and forth through the two districts.  There's a lot of history in a capital city like Madrid, almost to the point that it was overwhelming.  But it was nice just to stroll through an area (arguably) less chaotic than Barcelona, hitting up awesome playgrounds, listening to slow trumpeters, and feeding sparrows (which, after just one crumb was thrown to one bird, flocked completely around our park bench).  We had some tapas and beer in a bar while watching the muted telenovella about Antoni in the Time of Revolution (I think?), and we wandered into La Latina one evening to try a drink in one of the older bars. Even on the times we "went out," it was all just really chill.

But, there are also two outstanding art museums in Madrid that we couldn't miss.  We managed to see all of one floor and parts of another in the extensive masterpiece collection of Museo del Prado during its free hours from 6 to 8 in the evening.  Apart from seeing Spanish works, like the original Las Meninas and works by Goya and El Greco,  the museum also had some really impressive paintings by Rubens and some of the most gorgeous inlaid tabletops I have ever seen (seriously--I enjoyed every tabletop displayed in some of the gallery rooms.  There were even two where the artist full-out painted the design before moving on to the actual table).  I was particularly struck (and a little disturbed, to be frank) of La Trinidad by Rubens, which featured incredibly realistic stigmata on the figure of Christ.  There was also a more medieval-aged tri-fold panel with hell, earth, and heaven--a subject I always find a little interesting in interpretation.  Unfortunately, I didn't get enough time to examine it before the closing bells rang and they ushered us out of the building. 

I tend to like contemporary art better, but I surprisingly ended up being more impressed with El Prado than with the Reina Sofia 20th century art museum, which features some Dali, as well as Picasso's giant mural Guernica (which is pretty incredible, I must say).  The art on display was great overall, but the building used to be a hospital, so the layout (and English descriptions . . . ) was a little to be desired for.  On the other hand, it was still super cool to see some of the earliest films, a giant metronome by Man Ray, and a temporary exhibition on Russian Constructivism (which was a nice transition theme for my trip to Prague that evening).  Plus, the Reina Sofia was nice enough to offer free student admission.

Last but not least, we spent one afternoon visiting the Catedral Nuestra Señora de Almudena (Cathedral of Our Lady of Almudena).  Interestingly enough, "almudena" is taken from an Arabic word for city, and the name references the time that the Virgin Mary appeared in the city walls and she was named the patron saint of Madrid.  While I liked the colored lights shining on the cathedral at night, it didn't have a particularly attractive exterior (Neo-Classical = not my style).  However, I'm really glad we ventured inside, since it features a Gothic-style sanctuary (my favorite), very modern stained glass, and speakers that filled the hall with some incredible choral music.  The ceiling is painted in bright colors, and words representing the word of god appear in several different languages in the stained glass behind the nave.  The building itself didn't particularly call to me, but especially with the music playing, wandering around the cathedral had a very calming effect on my day. We also ventured underneath into the Neo-Romanesque designed crypt.  Apart from offering the BEST English-translated brochure I have ever seen (including such gems as "sumptuous the columns" and "Ahhh! the tombs!"), I saw a beautiful stone interior with unique capitals on the hundreds of supporting columns.

While the morning I arrived in Madrid I had some good first impressions and was hoping to like it a little better than Barcelona, I wasn't so sure of this by the time I left, and I didn't feel like the two cities were ALL so different. Spain, in general, may just not have been my type of country.  With the exception of the Modernisme buildings in Barcelona, the buildings weren't particularly my style; the food, while tasty, did not leave me starving for more; and the prevalent Catholic culture--while not over-bearing--felt like just a little too much to handle.  But that's ok!  I've seen it, and I'm happy to say I've visited Spain.

Prague Sunday 08 - Wednesday 11 November
FB photos

Let me just say this first:  I LOVE PRAGUE.  Despite a little bit of trouble getting there, the city left me with a sense of awe: with natural beauty, with the centuries of stories etched in the stone structures, and with the fighting character in a city ravaged by despotic governments in the past 100 years.  On top of that, it was just really nice to be able to spend time with my friend Kate, not only just to see a friend, but also to learn a little about the Czech Republic, eat some really cheap American-style Chinese food, and share experiences both about our time abroad and in relation back to DePauw.

With only five hours of sleep, we took our time just talking and slowly getting up and out of her dorm on Sunday.  But for the afternoon we headed out to Divoká Šárka--a nature reserve on the edge of town (with some interesting legends, if you'd like to read about it).  Even though I live a good 25 km south of Copenhagen's city proper, it has been tiring for me to be stuck in a city environment all the time, and this walk was just what I needed for a little refresher.  The wet yellow and red leaves stood out brilliantly against the black rock wall face, the air felt crisp and clean, and families flew kites on the grassy top of the rocks.  From the top, we could see the star-shaped summer palace that Kate had learned about in class but had no idea how to get to, and so we decided to embark on an adventure to find it.  We ended up winding through more forested paths on steep hillside until we got up close to it, but we still made it!.  Although the building was closed, we still found an open park with several Czech families playing frisbee, walking with their dogs, or just enjoying the fall air. 


Since Kate had classes almost all day, I spent the next few days exploring some of the city on my own and eating pastries from Tesco that were one third the price of Copenhagen 7-Eleven pastries.  Kate walked me up to the grounds of Vyšehrad fortress, where her classes, a pleasant park, the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, and the cramped yet charming Vyšehrad Cemetery stand.  After that I just saw the main sights, admiring art noveau at the Mucha Museum, watching the apostles bid you "hello" at the hour on the Astronomical Clock in Old Town Square, walking by the darkened statues on the Charle's Bridge and wondering about their stories, and admiring the (mostly relevant) proclamations of peace on the John Lennon Wall in Mala Strana (Small Town).  Prague was also bustling enough to let me find some perfect Christmas gifts, which I am very relieved to have gotten (almost) done.

Although I didn't pay for the audio tour of Prague Castle, I was still able to visit St. Vitus Cathedral, which is the tallest structure in the complex and the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen.  Construction started in the 14th century, but it wasn't not finished until the early 20th century, so the building features a Gothic style in old, worn stone, some Neo-Gothic designs and experimental structures, art noveau embellishments in the stained glass, and some extravagant crypts in the chapels around the nave.  Although there were no speakers to echo music throughout the sanctuary, my visit to St. Vitus Cathedral affirmed a suspicion I started to get in Madrid:  my favorite thing to visit in cities is not always the museums, but cathedrals and historical places of worship.  Even in a very agnostic and/or atheistic country like the Czech Republic, the buildings feel so powerful and speak so much about the people who built them.  I wish now I had taken the time to inside the Old-New Synagogue in the Jewish quarter, but at the time, I had not really given thought to it.  And, maybe I WILL go back to Spain some day, post-2025, so that I can see the inside of La Sagrada Familia.


The last thing that really struck me in Prague was how recent history has left its mark on the city--with some really ugly Soviet-era buildings and older ones left in disrepair--and its people.  In the states, we learn about the Holocaust and about the later Communist regime in school, but to see what it has done to the regions they affected is a totally different experience.  I was fortunate enough on Monday to attend a guest lecture at Kate's study program with a Holocaust survivor who painted her life in Terezín (a Nazi-German Jewish ghetto in the Czech Republic) when she was 12 and later, drew some of what she saw in Auschwitz.  Now, she is a lucid and happy-appearing 80-year-old woman, but her stories were horrid and moving.  I guess I least expected the very visible effect that Communism left.  Whether through the funny, yet obviously biased posters for the Museum of Communism, a very striking memorial to the victims of the regime, or just the temporary exhibit that displays personal stories from the tumultuous 20th century, it is apparent that the Czech people have not yet come completely to terms with that period in their history (which ended 20 years ago this coming week).  I think that's a good thing:  we shouldn't forget.

Europe: A Rant

Written Saturday, 7 November 2009, 8:53 pm

For this first time, I'm harboring strong feelings of anger at Europe--mother of internet cafés and of no-frill/low-cost airlines with shitty service, land of a union of westernized nations that for some reason refuses to make roaming rates cheap across borders. The only reason I'm experiencing these emotions is because right now a combination of these circumstances have left me completely lost. I'm in the Madrid airport at 9 pm, and my travel buddy from Spain left for London almost 2 hours ago. My flight--which was supposed to get into Prague at 11:15 pm--will be getting in around 1:45 am. The metro in Prague closes at midnight, and my friend who was supposed to be meeting me at the metro station does not have a cell phone. I blew my last Euro on 15 minutes of internet, attempting to e-mail her on the kiosks provided in the airport. Too bad they use a shitty software with an older version of IE that a) doesn't support Facebook, b) doesn't support the web version of Groupwise (my school e-mail), c) for some reason wouldn't let me sign into my Gmail, d) doesn't allow copying or any keyboard functions involving ctrl + something, and e) doesn't even tell you how many minutes you have left. The wireless I can pick up on my laptop would cost € 5 for 30 minutes, and I wasn't comfortable filling in information about my card when it was only in Spanish (not to mention the ridiculous price). So, Europe, what the hell have you left me with in terms of options??? Gracias, amigo. You suck.

At least they gave us vouchers for a free Fanta and jamon sandwich. But it's Spanish ham--which means it's smoked and doesn't even look cooked (though it did taste wonderful!). And that does not solve my transportation problems. At all.

Editor's Note at time of posting: I have to admit I was a little embarrassed later, but I'm posting this anyway.  I'm 20 years old.  I should have been able to handle this without breaking down and beginning to pinpoint who I thought was American and I could communicate with if worst came to worst and nothing panned out.  But, I was very lucky, and Kate was waiting for me at the airport when I got there.  Granted, I scared her when the flight was coming in and I had not come out until after everyone else (since I was sitting by baggage claim frantically checking if she was on Skype via the Prague airport's gracious free internet), and then the night trams didn't get us to her dorm until 5 in the morning (at which point we saw the day trams beginning their rounds).  BUT, it was fantastic.

Also, the stupid Madrid airport changed our gate post-delay without announcing it.  Poor service.