mallorca (said: my-zhor-cah)

well, it´s official. i am sick of traveling. however, we had a lovely time in mallorca where i got to play with the kids (nate, patti, and barden). it was great to see family, especially in the setting of a spanish island paradise. we ate incredible meals and risked our lives on the wooden train across the island. the train ride provided breathtaking views and led us to port de sóller in the north. we drank lemon beer and orange liquor in honor of the island´s main produce. we saw baby jesus in a cave (which was kind of creepy). we froze our baguettes off (or at least i did...) and we had a great time! plus, i got to play with da babay!! i like to call this "baby genius. philosophying."

mail call! and, translation, please?

in the last two days i have received two packages and four letters! woohoo! and the packages both contained pringles and slim jims. my family knows me so well...

in other news, as you know, i tutor two older gentlemen once a week so they can practice their english. this week, miguel angel was talking about a formal affair he had to attend the previous weekend, and was trying to describe the type of suit he wore. he called it a smokin. to which i replied, "nice. smokin´." but i don´t think he got it. and then augustine says, "what are these called?"(while pointing to his suit jacket.) and i said, "the lappels?" and he said, "yes. the napples are of glossy...with bright." it was awesome.

photos!

well i finally got all of switzerland loaded. next step, portugal.

photos!

shamrocks and pasta...

ireland: in a nutshell: we went to dublin, where we saw trinity college, temple bar, grafton street, and all of the other typical things you´re supposed to see in dublin. we went to the pub across the street from our hostel (which was previously the recording studio for u2, van morrison, and david bowie!), and met a man named ishmael. to which i replied, "is that what they call you?" either he didn´t hear me, or doesn´t read, because i don´t think he got it. i thought it was funny though. after meeting ishmael, a very old man danced on his knees in front of us. apparently the irish are always drunk because the only things open after 6pm are bars. they were crazy. our roommates at the hostel were interesting, to say the least. but i guess that´s what you get when you pay 20 euros a night. we decided we were over the city and wanted to see some legitimate irish country side. so we went to the bus station and asked the man where to find some. he said we should take a bus to drogheda. so we did. when we got there, it was not the country side at all, so we got on another bus to newgrange. which turned out to be the oldest thing ever! newgrange is a neolithic burial tomb from something like 4000 b.c. it´s older than the great wall, the pryamids, and stonehenge. and we went inside it. not only that, but it was surrounded by sheep and cows and beautiful country side! also, when the man was giving us the tour he said, "do you see that wee little mound over there?" all in all, i would most definitely return to ireland. and the people were very nice. and i like the cut of their jib.

italy: in a nutshell: roma! the eternal city. it was beautiful. whoever said you can´t see all of rome in one day lied. because we did. we saw everything there was to see and more the first day we were there. despite the bitter cold and rain, we conquered at the colosseum, threw coins in the trevi fountain, went to the pantheon, ate gelato, ate pasta, ate pizza, ate more gelato, and the list goes on. we saved day two for the vatican city. well, it turns out that day two was actually day one, that is, november 1st, which means that it was a vatican holiday. which means that the sistine chapel was CLOSED. we blamed this on throwing coins in the trevi the day before because legend says that if you throw a coin in you are guaranteed a speedy return to rome. what better reason to return than to see the sistine chapel? damn fountain. however, our luck quickly changed when we found out that the pope would be making an appearance that afternoon. that´s right, i saw the holy man himself! he stuck his head out of a window and spoke in italian for 15 minutes, followed by a blessing in six different languages. plus, i got a really awesome pope keychain and postcard. so it was a good day after all. after rome, we took a train to florence which is beautiful, but extremely crowded. it was very stressful and we didn´t see micheangelo´s david because the line was three hours long and we had to go to pisa. i´m ok with that though. i figure if i have to go back to rome, i might as well hit up florence again too. however, in florence we did have the best gelato ever. and the little man who served it to us spent a good 15 minutes trying to get his tv to play MTV for us, but to no avail. i think it just ended up being broken instead. it was a very nice gesture though. after we were too stressed out to stay in florence any longer, we went to pisa and practically ran through the town to get to the tower (which happens to be as far away from the train station as possible) before dark. it really does lean. after one last incredible italian meal, we headed to the airport to wait the night for our 6am flight. it turns out that the airport closes for three hours every night, during which we were forced to sit outside and "freeze our baguettes off" to quote a favorite movie of mine (10 points to anyone who can name it). i was very thankful for my impulse buy of wool mittens at the market earlier that day. but, we made it back to sevilla in one piece and with all of our extremities, so all in all, it was a good trip. even if i didn´t have to go back, i think i would. not to mention the fact that italians are SO nice. all of them. it was so not like spain...where it smells weird and im still missing a shirt.

no. that´s mine. get your own!

yesterday maría luisa came into my room looking for a shirt she had lost. she said it was a white tank top that was a gift from the mother of a former student. i said, "well, i have a white tank top, but it´s mine." and i showed it to her. she said, "sí, sí, esa es la mía." (yes, yes, that is mine.) and i said, "no i don´t think so." and she went and got a beige one out of her drawer that happened to be the exact same brand. but i know that it´s mine. she went on to tell me that she had washed hers this week and that it was missing. and i went on to tell her that i had also washed mine and that i was pretty sure it was mine. and then she took it. communication is ridiculous when you don´t speak the same language...

in other news, i leave tomorrow for a week in dublin, rome, florence, and pisa. i expect that it will be lovely!

romancero gítano

we went to see a flamenco show the other night, and i´m still feel like words are inadequate to describe it. but i will try. the show was called "romancero gitano" which means, gypsy romance. it was based on the poetry of Lorca, who wrote a book of 12 poems based upon the lives of gypsies. these 12 poems were set to music, and were sung by a woman and a man in typical flamenco style. very passionate, and very emotional. if the singing didn´t get your emotions flowing, the dancing did. it was so incredible. i didn´t even know that people´s feet could move that fast! and the scenes were about romance, lost and forbidden love, and the ongoing battle between the spanish civil guard and the gypsies. it was all in spanish, and i didn´t understand most of what they sang about, but it still spoke to my heart and rendered me speechless. music is incredible in its ability to transcend language...

and speaking of music and dance, my señora came home the other day and said "estaba bailando hee-haw (with a throaty j/h sound)" (i was dancing hee-haw.) and jackie and i said, ¿qué? (what?) and she went on to say that it was a modern type of dance, at which point jackie said, "hip-hop?" and my señora nodded and giggled in agreement as she proceeded to show us what she had learned. look out missy elliot, here comes maría luisa! she did all kinds of moves, complete with pelvic thrusts and a crotch grab. i was stunned and paralyzed by laughter, and she was loving every minute of it. and that´s why i love my señora.

fame, fortune, etc.

this is how it all starts. one little article in the pittsburgh post gazette, and the next thing you know, i´m famous. don´t worry, i won´t forget the little people that made this possible...

http://post-gazette.com/pg/07289/825636-298.stm