The Beast from the East

Hi everyone,

Due to a couple of stressful weeks of classes, I haven’t gotten to posting in a while, so I have some catching up to do. Over the past few weeks, Scotland has been hit by a couple of snow storms. Although there was never more than 2 or 3 inches of snow on the ground, most of Aberdeen seemed to have shut down.

“The Beast from the East” is what the larger storm was called. It lasted about 3 days, and campus-wide emails were sent out warning students of the adverse weather. My personal favorite email included a diagram advising students of the safest way to walk in icy conditions: like a penguin. Transportation in and around the city was also affected, “stranding” one of my flatmates in Berlin and one of my friends in Madrid.

Limited by the buses not running on some days and others by my own reluctance to face the cold, I was kept inside to study and work on schoolwork almost all of that week (which was probably for the best).

Then, right when the sun had returned and the snow left behind by the Beast from the East had melted, “The Pest from the West” arrived. Similar to the Beast from the East, the snow on the ground never accumulated to anything greater than 2 or 3 inches. Still, cautionary emails were sent out and transportation shut down. (I think it is safe to say that Aberdeen may not be as accustomed to winter weather as West Michigan.)

Though I may have complained about the storms here and there, all in all, neither were too much of an imposition. In fact, being locked inside to study reminded me of an important aspect of studying abroad that is sometimes overlooked in conversations with students that have gone abroad: the studying. Though I am having tons of new experiences and seeing many new places, I am also having to stay on top of schoolwork.

While my course load is not too different than it would be were I a typical second semester Junior back home, the courses here are structured and assessed much differently than those I have taken at Hope.

I have enjoyed the courses I have taken at Hope, but I am also grateful for the opportunity to experience classes that are formatted differently. Though this most likely does not hold true at every foreign university, I find that at Aberdeen there are a lot less (but larger) assignments than there are at Hope. There are pros and cons to that, because less assignments means every grade has a significant impact on your overall course grade. I am also finding that the majority of my courses are not taught by only one professor. Most of my courses have three or four professors alternating who gives a lecture. There are also pros and cons to this.

There are a number of other differences that I am adjusting to, but the point is that there are pros and cons to every style of teaching. I am, however, thankful for the chance to see these new styles of teaching. I believe that being exposed to different ways of teaching is helping me figure out how I learn best, and I think that I will return a better student than I left as a result.

 

Darkness and Light

Opposites emphasize one another. Contrast refines prominence, allowing positive and negative moments to be felt more intensely.  It’s misery that provides joy with a purpose.  Darkness cannot be defined without talking about light.  Death brings meaning to life itself.  My weekend in Poland serves as a reminder that these worn out clichés do contain a great deal of truth.

The bus departed from Prague at midnight.  As we travelled through the night, I slept for 10, not hours, but minutes. On top of the fact that I’ve never been skilled in the art of bus-snoozing, my mind was alert with anticipation. I was about to be somewhere I’d read about countless times in history books; a place that receives over two million yearly visitors: the concentration camps of Auschwitz.

Being with a group from our program CIEE, we had the opportunity to begin our tour at 7:30AM before the gates opened to the public.  Stepping foot on to a property in which over one million human beings were murdered is a chilling experience.  The barrack walls whisper accounts of the horrors characterized by agonizing torture.  The leafless trees seem to droop with the sorrow of having witnessed such despair.  Massive piles of objects left behind put statistics into perspective, transforming the numbers into individual people that once lead normal lives.  There are dozens of victims’ suitcases, children’s shoes, and the most horrifying display . . . 2 tons of women’s hair.  Sites like these placed a knot in my throat and blurred my vision with lingering tears.  It became even more difficult to remain composed while Eva, our phenomenal guide for the weekend, revealed heart-wrenching true stories that took place within the grounds we stood upon.

As we re-entered the bus to head to Kraków, Eva instructed us to complete two tasks.  1) Call our loved ones to say ‘I love you’.  2) Eat some pierogi.  These steps were completed without hesitation.  After a few phone calls, I ventured into the town square with some friends to find a local restaurant.  We immediately adored the city’s colorful buildings and replenishing atmosphere.  Full of appreciation for our family and one another, we proceeded to fill our stomachs with delicious Polish cuisine.

The rest of the trip consisted of wonderful treks around the city.  We walked through the old Jewish quarters, saw unbelievably vibrant churches, and stopped for a coffee (or hot chocolate) break in a castle.  We also toured a salt mine in the Polish town of Wieliczka on our way home.  Don’t worry, the bacteria cannot live on the walls so licking is acceptable . . . Or at least that’s what we were told.  In the café 1,073 feet below the ground, we enjoyed our final pierogi of the weekend.

Bugs, bugs, bugs!

I love arthropods. Perhaps to an unhealthy degree. But I realize that many people do not (and for the record, they are wrong), so I am trying to contain my enthusiasm to a single post. There may be a part II later, though.

Look, he’s showing off Hope College colors!

First, a small dose of unsolicited education: bugs, insects, and arthropods are not the same thing; they are categories with varying levels of specificity. An arthropod is anything that sports an exoskeleton, segmented body, and jointed leg pairs. Insects are arthropods that have all of the above and three-part bodies, three pairs of jointed legs, compound eyes, and a single antennae pair. Bugs, more technically called Hemiptera, are a particular kind of insect that has sucking or piercing mouthparts, membranous or only partially hardened wings, and doesn’t undergo full metamorphosis.

For example: an aphid is a bug, insect, and arthropod. A beetle is an arthropod and insect, though not a bug. A lobster is an arthropod, but not an insect or bug. The takeaway here is that if you see a creepy crawly invertebrate, say, “what a beautiful arthropod!” and whether it’s an aphid, a lobster, or anything in between, you’ll never be wrong.
Or you could just keep on calling everything bugs, because taxonomy is ridiculous anyway.

We’re now staying in Wilson Botanical Gardens, part of the Las Cruces Biological Station in—you guessed it—Las Cruces. The garden plants are thriving and beautiful, but even more exciting are the creatures they attract! Get ready to see lots of photos, both from Las Cruces and our Palo Verde stay.

Let’s start off with something cute and charismatic! This little guy is a scarab beetle, probably in genus Chrysina (called the Jewel scarabs) based on those bright colors. He’s related to the June beetles that fly into your face during the Michigan summer, and is every bit as bumbling and friendly. Here, he’s helping me cram for an exam.

Now for something completely different. I know this tailless whip-scorpion looks like something that crawled out of Tim Burton’s nightmares (and has a fearsome name to match!), but it’s harmless. It is a member of order Amblypygi, a name that literally means “blunt rump.” This refers to their lack of any sort of tail (or venom) like their scorpion cousins. You are only in danger of a pinch if you stuck a finger into its little claws, called pedipalps. These guys come out at night to hunt other insects and defend their territories, and adorn many of the trees in Wilson Botanical Gardens. The star of this photo measures about seven inches across, as pictured. I don’t know how long he’d be with straightened legs, but some specimens can get up to nearly 30 inches in legspan.

 

This is a (very uncooperative) blue morpho butterfly in the forest at Las Cruces! She refused to open her wings for me, so I was unable to photograph the brilliant iridescent blue scales on the dorsal (top) side of her wings. I promise they are there, though. In the meantime, you can admire her drab brown forest camouflage and pretty eyespot collection.

(Disclaimer: I do not know how to sex butterflies, so I just pick a gender and run with it)

Army ants! Likely Eciton spp., given their proliferation here. The little black-bodied gals are workers, and the pale giantesses are soldiers. Males are identifiable by their wings.
This video isn’t sped up—they really do keep that busy! Instead of confining themselves to a hill, army ants lead a nomadic lifestyle. For much of their life cycle they aggressively forage en masse during the day, and make their bivouacs (yes, that is the scientific term for temporary hills) each dusk. The name “army ant” comes from that mass foraging behavior, which looks a bit like waging war on the forest.

It’s a cicada! This guy is a Hemipteran, a true bug. These photos are of the same cicada, about forty minutes apart. Look at that handsome devil sclerotizing (inflating and hardening) his wings. It’ll be another of couple hours before his colors dim to the mottled greens and grays of a mature adult. These guys are harmless vegetarians who feed on sap in all parts of their life cycle, which can last from 2 to 17 years, depending on the species!

Fun fact: that brown exoskeleton they left behind after moulting is called an “exuvia.”

The first time I watched one of these swoop between trees, my classmate came up behind me and asked what bird it was.
This is Tropidacrus dux, a giant Central and South American locust. Their wingspan averages about seven inches across, and they are so often mistaken for birds that hunters are known to shoot them out of the sky by mistake. Poor things.
See that bright red flash when it flies away from my hand? This fellow’s crimson wings are a great example of deimatic coloration, which startles and disorients predators who are after a tasty grasshopper snack. Or perhaps more of a banquet, in this case.

This unhappy camper is a Harlequin beetle (Acrocinus longimanus). They have a beautiful, if somewhat seizure-inducing, pattern of black, red, and yellow on their backs, and I would absolutely recommend looking up a picture.

These fellows are a famous example of commensalism, which is a type of interaction where one species benefits, and the other is unaffected, for good or ill. Specifically, Harlequin beetles unwittingly ferry little pseudoscorpions around, which feed on mites around the forest (and sometimes underneath the elytra, the colorful hardened forewings of the beetle).

This specimen squirmed away shortly after this photo was taken, and managed to take a pretty good chunk out of my professor’s hand before he flew away. Thank you, Professor Mau, for the blood that you shed on behalf of our education.

Meet the queen of wasps, Polistes. This thing is a little over an inch long, and is sporting the biggest stinger I’ve ever laid eyes on. Polistes wasps are valued by farmers because of their relatively low aggression and high predatory habits, which keep caterpillar populations down and crop production up.

The insect of interest is the one on the left, a member of family Reduviidae. I almost didn’t include this fellow, because blog posts are supposed to be upbeat and there is nothing upbeat about him. But he is extraordinarily interesting, so here we go.

This is Prince Charming, the kissing bug. There is a reason he is sealed tight in a bag, far, far away from my skin. You see, kissing bugs carry around your friendly neighborhood microorganism, Trypanosoma cruzi. These sweet little kissing bugs get their kicks by sucking at the blood in or near your lips, and then defecate in the same area. If their feces (and the Trypanosoma cruzi in them) make it into your bloodstream, congratulations! You are a proud owner of Chagas disease. Eight to twelve weeks later, it’s chronic. The good news is that symptoms usually don’t present until twenty years later, when you abruptly die of heart failure. Yay.

Luckily, the kissing bugs in this area tend not to defecate on your face. So, while they may snack on your lips, you probably won’t get the disease. And we have mosquito nets for a reason; these fellows are much too large to make it through the fine mesh.

A post on Central American arthropods wouldn’t be complete without a tarantula picture. Here’s one I saw near my room in Palo Verde! These guys have a bad rap, but most New World tarantulas don’t have particularly potent venom, and you would only be in real danger if you have an allergy. Their first line of defense is the urticating bristles (irritating hairs) on their abdomens, which they fling at you if you’re particularly annoying. They also stridulate (make hissing sounds by rubbing their legs together) and slap at you with their forelegs before they resort to biting, so there is plenty of warning. The females are pretty playful, and will often submit to a little handling without fuss.

I leave you with a photo of this adorable little moth friend. She landed on my leg as I walked past a light in the gardens, and we immediately became best friends.

Say hi to some of your local arthropods for me! They deserve a little love.

All the best,
-The Crazy Cat(erpillar) Lady

Weekend Travel: Switzerland and Black Forest

IES has been doing a good job keeping us busy. In the past 17 days, we’ve only had 1 day with nothing scheduled! Last weekend and the weekend before that, we’ve gone on day trips to Switzerland and the local Black Forest region.

These trips have been great for seeing the area and getting to know the other students, especially because we spent over two hours on a bus getting to Lucerne, Switzerland! Freiburg is in the “Dreiländereck“, which means “three country corner”, because it’s very close to France, Switzerland, and (of course) Germany.

Our hike in the alps was quite foggy, unfortunately!

Even though it was below freezing in Freiburg, there wasn’t any snow. As we drove higher into the Swiss alps, though, it got snowier and snowier, until we were in a quaint village surrounded by busy ski slopes.

We took a gondola (cable car) up the side of the mountain, then a chair lift the rest of the way. The ground was simply smooth white snow, so it blended into the thick fog, making it look like we were completely enveloped by a cloud.

From the top of the mountain, we hiked back down. The first part of the path was very steep and icy, with only a small rope to help us, but we all made it. After that, the path flattened out and was more navigable.

We took a gondola up the first part of the mountain, then a chairlift to get the rest of the way up.
Our beautiful panoramic view of an alpine valley!
The trees were beautifully frosted!

Along the way, there were anti-avalanche barriers! The German word for “avalanche” is Lawine (don’t forget, “w” is a “v” in German!)

 

After we got to the bottom, we drove to the beautiful city of Lucerne, Switzerland! Now that we were in town, we got to hear the locals speaking Swiss German. Germany has always had many different dialects and regional variations, but since becoming a unified country, High German predominates. Today, most people middle aged or younger speak High German, and television shows, radio broadcasts, and schools almost universally use High German. Dialects are weaker today in Germany than they ever have been in the past. In Switzerland, however, the official German dialect is Swiss German, so this dialect is widely spoken today. To me, Swiss German sounds like someone speaking German with a thick Scottish accent!

An iconic bridge in Lucerne dating from 1333! This is the oldest wooden bridge in Europe, and people still walk across it today.
An interior shot of the bridge. Some of these painted panels date back to the 1700s!

One of the other major sites in Lucerne is the Lion Monument. This beautiful, tragic sculpture of a dying lion commemorates Swiss soldiers who died in the French Revolution.

The Lion Monument

On the way back from the Lion Monument, we happened to spy the top of a church and decided to head in. It was absolutely gorgeous. Flip through the album below by clicking on one of the pictures!

Europe is absolutely bursting with charming villages and towns, beautiful churches, and breathtaking natural views! These trips with IES have been a great way to meet other students and become acquainted with the region, as well as keep busy in a town where we don’t really know anyone yet. This is the first weekend that I’ve had totally free, and on Tuesday I’m headed to Berlin with other IES students.

Our classes are only Monday through Thursday every week, so we can travel for 3-day weekends every week if we want. I’m planning on doing day trips on Friday or Saturday to towns in the region, but I don’t want to be gone all weekend, every weekend- I can be a tourist any time, but this is my one chance to experience living in Freiburg, Germany, and there’s nowhere else that I can experience that other than right here!

Cheira Bem, Cheira a Lisboa

 

Lisbon, Portugal

This past weekend IES took us on a trip to Portugal. To be completely honest, as far as weather is concerned, the last two or three weeks in Salamanca have been… less than ideal. That’s to say, every single day for a pretty much constant 18-21 days, we have enjoyed a frigid cold rain. I can’t really complain, right? I mean a couple days of rain and temperature hovering around the 40’s is really nothing compared to what my compadres in Michigan are currently dealing with (sorry, Holland folks). Besides, I’m in Spain! Needless to say, a weekend bus ride out of the rain to coastal Portugal seemed to all 30 of us as a welcomed relief. Just at that perfect moment, you know, when you’re really excited about something, we all got an email: Severe thunder and rain storms moving through Portugal, Spain. Look out for floods. Rain all weekend. “Sweet”, we thought. At least we would be getting drenched by Portuguese rain, which, as I’ve heard, is a better, less wet, kind of rain.

The bus ride was about 7 hours to Lisbon, but we made a stop about half way – in rainy Coimbra, Salamanca’s sister city in Portugal. We had to do our planned guided tour from inside the bus (on account of the rain); we didn’t mind. We had a few hours of free time where most of us decided to split up and head to the cafes. I sat down, excited to try pasteis de nata (a typical and delicious Portuguese dessert), and instinctually ordered myself a coffee, “¿Qué tal, tío, me pones un café americano solo, y un….?” Then it hit me. I had just ordered my coffee in Spanish – only catching myself by not knowing how to say “pasteis de nata” in Spanish. The waiter looked at me in my sincere state of confusion. I stared at him for 10 seconds in silence as my brain decided whether or not we spoke Portuguese. Deciding we didn’t, “you, uh… you speak English?”, I said.

“Yeah, man. What do you want?”

It was not when we crossed the border, not when I stepped off the bus in Portugal, and not when I walked around Coimbra, that I realized I had finally left Spain. You see, I hadn’t even realized that for two months I had not left the country. Spain had been my only home for these eight or nine weeks and it had conditioned me to speak Spanish at all times in public places. Well, lucky for us, the Portuguese have an excellent and obligatory English education in their primary schools. They all speak English pretty well. With my first Portuguese “cultural collision” out of the way, we headed to Portugal’s capital city.

The first thing you’ll notice about the magnificent Lisbon is that it is oddly similar to San Francisco. From the dark-red suspension bridge, to the constant climbing and descending of hills, to the windy weather, Lisbon was an entirely captivating place. Although our first night in Lisbon was spent in a hotel listening to rain, (parts of) our next two days were unexpectedly lovely. Blue skies, t-shirt weather, and the sunny bay of Lisbon – it was truly a gorgeous experience. We got a great view of the city from the tallest point (a castle), we watched a Fado show (Portugal’s “flamenco”), we dined Portugal style (you must try the Bacalao), we saw incredible coastal cliffs, we enjoyed the marvel of Portugal’s monuments, churches, and basilicas; we did it all. Without spoiling too much of the experience for others who may venture to go, I will simply say that I adore this city and its charm, and only wish that I had more than two days to explore it and enjoy.  I will, without a doubt, be coming back to Lisbon. And IF you do come, among the countless pleasures that exist here, I cannot overstate my love of the food. For, as the traditional Portuguese song reminds us, cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa (It smells good, it smells like Lisbon).

Coimbra. We stopped here for a rainy bus-tour of the city’s quaint university.
We got a dinner and a show our first night in Portugal! Here, the performers blew the crowd away with a traditional style of Portuguese singing called “fado”. It was breathtaking.
Candid photo of yours truly having an episodic experience on top of this ancient fortress. I think in this photo I was listening to the “Pirates of the Caribbean” soundtrack and pretending I was a pirate. Don’t knock it until you try it.
These cliffs on Lisbon’s coast were one of the coolest things I have ever seen. The name does not overstate itself, “Boca del Infierno” (Mouth of Hell). Here, the waves crashed with such immense force that salty spray would hit you from hundreds of yards away.
Here’s another view of Lisbon from on top of the castle. Check out the bridge in the background. It was built by a California bridge company AFTER the Golden Gate after Portugal had experienced some devastating earthquakes. The suspension bridge appealed to them as much for safety as for style. This castle was positioned for defending the port (pictured above), and still has cannons to this day watching over the main plaza (the square part touching the bay without buildings).
In Lisbon, the peacocks are as abundant as the fresh air.
Pasteis de nata (right). I would describe them as: flaky outside, custard inside. Worth the trip alone.
Again, Lisbon. Here the city is pictured during one of our brief hours with sun.

 

Lisbon’s “Central Park”

 

Hell’s Mouth. The raw power was mesmerizing; I sat entranced for an hour watching the crashing of the waves.

 

Un país más pequeño que el estado Tejano/ A country smaller than the Texan state

Castellano:

El imperio Español ya tiene varios años que caducó. El poder controlar colonias a miles de kilómetros de Madrid resultó ser imposible por obvias razones. El imperio que alguna vez dominó la mayoría de América Latina y muchas partes de Europa a lo largo de su historia ha sido disminuido a un terreno que cabe dentro del estado de Tejas. El país español sí es pequeño, pero igual es impresionante la diversidad que uno puede encontrar dentro de sus fronteras. Porque puedes viajar unas cuantas horas en cualquier dirección desde Madrid y llegar a un lugar donde todo es completamente distinto a lo que dejaste atrás. Yo creo que tanta riqueza cultural en tan pequeño país proviene de la larga historia que tiene España. Una historia que se ve por doquier en calles, catedrales, alcázares, mezquitas y, por lo tanto, en cada tabique que construye esta bella ciudad.

Yo, gracias a Dios, pude venir a España a mis muy cortitos veinte años. Me siento muy agradecido con Dios y mi familia que me han podido brindar estas oportunidades. Porque la verdad es algo muy distinto poder venir a España a los veinte años con chavos Americanos de mi edad a visitar este país en un punto más avanzado en mi vida. Gracias al momento en que vine y por las intenciones con las que vengo, he vivido experiencias que no hubiese vivido en otro punto de mi vida. Por ejemplo, por parte del programa de intercambio escolar he podido viajar a sitios como Cáceres, Mérida y Segovia, sitios muy bonitos que quizás no hubiera visitado si no hubiese sido por mi programa de intercambio. Estas experiencias que estoy viviendo aquí en España me recuerdan a cuando ando por mi bello país de México. Permítanme explicarles la paralela; cuando voy a México, muy seguido voy tanto a la CDMX y Toluca como también a los pueblos más pequeños de donde son mis papas: Bejucos y Caja de Agua. Para todos los que son del Estado de México, vaya que sí saben las enormes diferencias entre la Ciudad de México y un pueblo como Caja de Agua. Obviamente no es el mismo ambiente que se siente entre los pueblos y las ciudades aquí en España pero es mucho más parecido el estilo de vida de aquí a, por ejemplo, las ciudades y pueblos en EEUU. Es que a final de cuentas le debemos mucha de nuestra cultura contemporánea a los Españoles y si es bonito ver esas similitudes entre países tan lejanos. Por ejemplo en mi clase de historia del arte el otro día vimos un cuadro de un pintor muy reconocido aquí en España que toca temas típicos Españoles y varios de sus cuadros me recordaron a México.

    • Interior por Rusiñol (1892).

Los que son de pueblos de México creo que concordarán conmigo que este cuadro podría estar mostrando una casa mexicana como también una española. 

    Those that are from Mexican pueblos will agree with me that this painting could be displaying a Mexican house or a Spanish house.

En especial los que tocaban temas de los campesinos, por la ropa que llevaban las figuras, la arquitectura y muchos otros aspectos me recuerdan a mis experiencias en México. Por lo tanto, lo mismo se puede apreciar en los pueblos como San Miguel de Allende o Taxco que son ciudades mexicanas muy semejantes a ciudades como Segovia o Cáceres aquí en España. La verdad es que estás comparaciones no dejarán de aparecer en mis blogs porque es un tema que me fascina; las similitudes y diferencias de los países y la gente que los habita. 

Pero bueno, ya dejo de estar platique y platique de los mismo y vamos a lo chido. El resto de este blog se tratará sobre las visitas que he hecho a través del programa a comunidades afuera de Madrid aquí en España. El primer sitio que visitamos fue Segovia que es una ciudad justo al otro lado de la Sierra de Madrid. Es un muy buen sitio para visitar en una tarde porque es muy accesible desde Madrid y es un ambiente completamente diferente pero muy cercano a la ciudad. La razón por las cuales visitamos los sitios fue por su gran importancia histórica pero yo la neta no los quiero aburrir así es que solo incluiré fotos y algunos datos curiosos de los sitios que visitamos. ¡Vamos a darle!

El Alcázar de Segovia. Walt Disney utilizó este alcázar como inspiración para su castillo de Disney World. The Alcazar in Segovia. Walt Disney drew inspiration from this alcázar for his Disney World castle.
Contemplando el pueblo como una vez lo hizo la familia real en Segovia. El alcázar fue utilizado por varios reinos incluyendo el Romano, Musulmán y el de Castilla . Contemplating the town like the royal family once did in Segovia. The alcazar was used by several empires including the Roman, Muslim and Castile.
Un sujeto muy guapo posa en frente del acueducto de Segovia, acueducto que fue construido en tiempos Romanos. A very good looking guy in front of the aqueduct in Segovia, an aqueduct that was built in Roman times.

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English:

The Spanish empire expired several years ago. The power to control colonies thousands of miles from Madrid turned out to be impossible to retain for obvious reasons. The empire that once ruled over most of Latin America and several parts of Europe throughout its history has been diminished to a plot of land that fits within the state of Texas. The country is small, but it is still very impressive how much diversity you can find within its borders. You can travel a few hours in any direction from Madrid and arrive in a location that is completely different from what you left behind. I think that so much cultural richness in such a small country comes from the long history that Spain has found itself involved in. A history that can be seen everywhere from its streets, cathedrals, alcázares, mosques and for that matter in every brick that builds this beautiful city.

I have been blessed by God to be able to visit Spain at my short age of twenty. I am very thankful with God and my family who have been able to provide me with these opportunities. The truth is that it is a very different experience to come to Spain when you are twenty years old and are coming with people that are your same age than when you are older and you are visiting the country at another more advanced point in your life. For example through the program I have been able to to visit places like Cáceres, Mérida and Segovia. All of which are places that are very beautiful, but that I might not have visited if it had not been for the program. A lot of the experiences that I have lived in Spain remind me of when I visit my beautiful country of Mexico. Let me explain the parallel; when I visit Mexico, I often go to Mexico City and Toluca as well as the pueblos my parents are from: Bejucos and Caja de Agua. For everyone that is from the State of Mexico, y’all definitely know about the differences between a city like Mexico City and a small pueblo like Caja de Agua. Obviously it is not exactly the same atmosphere that you feel between the cities and pueblos here in Spain, but it is a much more similar experience than when you compare American cities and towns to cities and pueblos in Mexico. This is because we owe a lot of our contemporary culture to the Spanish and it is wonderful to be able to make connections between countries that are thousands of miles apart. For example in my art history class the other day we saw a painting by a very famous Spanish artist that touches upon very typical Spanish themes and several of his pieces reminded me of Mexico. Those that are from Mexican pueblos would agree with me that the painting could be showing a Mexican theme just as well as a Spanish one. Especially the ones that touched upon rural life, through the clothing, the architecture and many other aspects they remind me of my experiences in Mexico. For that reason we can see some cities in Mexico like San Miguel de Allende or Taxco which are Mexican cities with a grand resemblance to Segovia or Cáceres here in Spain. The truth is that these comparisons won’t stop appearing in my blogs, because it is a topic that fascinates me; the similarities and differences between the countries and the people that live within them.

Well, I will now stop talking so much about the same old thing and lets get to the good part! The rest of this blog post will be about the trips I have made across Spain through the program in communities outside of Madrid. The first place we went to was Segovia, which is a city that is separated from Madrid by a mountain range. It is a very good place to for a day trip because it is very accessible from Madrid and has a completely different atmosphere from the city. The reason we went to the places we did was for their historical significance, but I don’t want to bore y’all so I will include photos and some interesting facts about the places that we visited. Let’s do this!

Con mis amigos en Mérida. With my friends in Mérida.
Otra foto de un bello sujeto esta vez in Cáceres. Another photo of a lovely subject this time in Cáceres.
Teatro Romano en Mérida. Este teatro lleva desde el año 16 antes de Cristo en este mundo. Roman theater in Mérida. This theater has been on this earth since 16 years before Christ’s birth.

 

Visiting the Sahara*

Last weekend we all packed a bag, piled into the bus and drove 4.5 hours to the desert (plus a couple of pit stops for juice and a bathroom). At a gas station just on the edge of where the desert began we switched into four-wheeled vehicles and went off through the dunes, past some wild camels and up to a circle of square cube huts and rugs in the sand. Truly a retreat and my mind was ready for it because of all the Arabic letters and words swarming loudly inside it. We arrived just before sunset and after we grabbed our keys and dropped our bags on our beds, we booked it up a giant dune to watch the sunset.

Me and the moon
Climbed all the way up!

(Click on images to view larger!)

Many of us heaved and breathed deeply when we reached the top of the red sand mountain. On the other side was nothing but cream pie meringue waves of sand. The wind whipped across my cheeks carrying grains of sugar sand across my cheeks and nose. Directly west the sun had left winking behind rocky mountains and to the east the moon was confident on the dusk screen of sky. It was a full moon feature night.

I posed for pictures then pocketed my phone and ran my palms against the sand. There was not a sound other than the pull of the wind through my ears. Eerie because not much lives in the desert (although, we were warned of snakes and scorpions before coming). The only movement were the streams of sand winding around my ankles. My friend Ben posted on his Instagram the other day that the experience of the desert helped him understand why Jesus would retreat to the wilderness to spend time with the father. I cannot agree more.

Entrance to the campsite
My room for the night
Water tower and other parts of the site
Dinner tent

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Jessica and I rolled down a hill on our sides and made sand angels that didn’t last more than two minutes before the next wave of sand rolled over them. Truly the dunes looked like waves yet felt like heavy dust. Sand weighed down the bottoms of my pants and spilled out of my pockets. That night, I emptied my boots into two large anthills outside of my concrete room. Every freckle on my face had doubled by sticky sand powder. The desert wasn’t going to let me leave without a piece of her with me. I keep finding twinkly red sand stuck to my clothes.

Later that night after a full meal of camel kabobs, lentils, rice and chicken, and fruit and Karak tea for dessert, we all gathered around a bonfire. Hefty jeeps charged up the side of the dunes and raced down noisily next to our camp. I imagined they were caravans of camels instead, carrying silk and spices and silver to the next city. We chattered on and on, and I stayed up way too late because of it. But, when I got back to my room, I smelled like earth and still felt windy ghosts in my hair and through my fingertips. I went straight to bed happy. So, so happy to be there.

*Sahara is Arabic for desert

Hope students (left to right: David, Ben and Danny) having water, dates, and oranges
Campsite view from on the dune
Gary posing under the moon
Jessica and Sultan (director of our language school)
British breakfast the next morning
Leaving the desert behind
Our campsite
Sandy feet

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Peak Experience

Everything is smothered in moss and lichen. I’m pretty sure it would grow on me if I stuck around long enough.

After the last couple of weeks at Palo Verde National Park, we packed up our sunburns and headed off to a new location. Destination: Cuericí Biological Station, high in the Talamanca mountain range of Costa Rica. Much of the area is a recently restored montane oak forest, courtesy of landowner Don Carlos who works to strike a balance between forest preservation and sustainable rainbow trout farming.

Look at that idyllic montane trout farm. Look at it.

Most people don’t seem to have strong feelings about grass. I do. Travel brings many challenges, but the biggest challenge by far, for me, has always been leaving behind the springy green grass of my home in Wisconsin. It was an unspeakable joy to arrive at Cuericí and feel soft grass underfoot once again… even if my bare feet put me at the mercy of the local vipers.

In addition to the grass, Cuericí boasts other similarities to the Midwest. The chilly conditions and extreme temperature variability encourage the same plant adaptations as areas with high seasonality. Glabrous, waxy leaves help plants conserve moisture under high-altitude sun, rosette-shaped growths trap heat in the face of chill winds, and shrubby growth forms persevere in the rocky, low-nutrient soil. Many plant families common in the temperate zone also populate high altitude tropical environments.

Because of that, this week I walked through an oak forest! In the tropics! I’ve never felt more at home whilst being so far away from home. The leaves of Quercus costaricensis are not as deeply lobed as the Quercus velutina I know, but their shiny coating and loud crunch underfoot are the same wherever you go. Unlike at home, the oak trees here sport brilliant red bromeliads and are draped with large webs of moss that subsist on atmospheric moisture from passing clouds.

Have you ever seen a more tropical oak forest? No, no you haven’t.
Fun fact about tropical trees: they don’t have rings! Rings are a product of seasonality, since trees grow at varying rates through the four seasons in temperate zones. That isn’t the case in the tropics, so you get trees with blank trunks like this one. Good luck figuring out its age!

If you climb even higher, the forest turns to large stands of bamboo, and then to páramo. Páramo, or “alpine tundra” exhibits all of the high-altitude adaptations to the extreme. Few woody plants can grow so high, so the páramo consists mostly of grass and rosette-shaped herbaceous plants. It’s a bit like a rocky prairie, but less fun for acrophobiacs.

We’re only here for a week, but I think I’ve fallen in love with this place. The hot chocolate is incomparable, the stars blaze brilliantly in the night sky, and the happy farm dogs are my new best friends. It’s still college, though; I’d better be off to study for my next exams! I’ll leave you with a few more photos.

 

Salvia leucantha, I believe. You know it gets cold when even the plants sport fur coats.
Sky, rock, and shrubs. Páramo.
This is a prime example of a rosette growth form in the páramo. Believe it or not, this little guy is in temperate family Rosaceae, along with apples and plums.
The view is alright, I suppose.

 

 

و (“wow”), I’m a Preschooler Again

I have started an entirely new subject from scratch. Language is always tricky, and Arabic is known as one of the more difficult languages to learn. I’m fortunate enough to have patient teachers and dedicated classmates that spur on my learning here in Ibri. As a result, on the ten-minute bus ride home, I’m in a whole new world as I sound out the Arabic script on all the buildings and billboards. In class, I’m giddy when I get something right and turn beet red when I say a word the wrong way or say something ridiculous or completely inappropriate by accident.

Morning in the classroom

I had forgotten how rewarding learning a language can feel. These lessons are refreshing compared to the rigorous, stressful experiences I had in my Spanish classes. Often, I was an anxious, ball-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach student who studied for days toward the next test and then forgot what I had learned the next week. I stopped studying Spanish because I associated it with failure and frustration and hit a plateau in learning. Now, the child-like atmosphere (while sometimes reduces me to toddler age) rekindles confidence in my abilities. The language is beautiful to write and I’m excited to say after two weeks I’m able to form sentences with the all-new Arabic alphabet!

That is not to say I’m not exhausted after five straight hours of Arabic every day. Sometimes I go to sleep sounding out every word I’m thinking. “I’MMMM TYYYYEEE YERRRRD”. Other days, I’m massaging my temples after attempting to correctly pronounce the letter ع (“ein”).

The street in front of my school

Many of the students here have been studying Arabic for years and still have trouble with reading and pronouncing words. But, the atmosphere of encouragement and hard work ethic is contagious and so we carry on in Ibri learning and practicing Arabic.

 

One of these opportunities to practice is with my language partner. We meet twice a week for an hour to speak Arabic, hangout, and work on my homework.  She is sassy and encouraging and I’ve loved hearing about her husband and her daughter. Every time I open the door to my apartment she looks excited to see me, flashes a full smile of turquoise braces and we kiss on both cheeks before I lead her inside. Today, she brought homemade Karak tea and we sipped and shared about our days while munching on biscuits. I have not met many Omani women and feel so blessed to hear and share stories with such a patient friend — even if she is tough on grammar.

My school

My favorite aspect of Arabic by far is the writing. Last week, we had a lesson on calligraphy from an artist named Mohammed. We all watched in awe as his wrist and fingers slowly and carefully moved his pen over his paper.  Loops and curls with such intentionality formed letters and words in six different styles of Arabic script. Arabic is as much an art form as it is a communication device. We attempted to repeat and replicate his letters but came up empty handed compared to his beautiful pattern. Because of these experiences, I am feeling confident and optimistic about learning a foreign language again —- and و (pronounced “wow”) it feels good.

Living like a German

Now that I’ve been here for a few weeks, I’m getting used to my day-to-day life in Germany. The culture doesn’t seem so foreign, but the differences are stark when it comes to the details.

I’m living in a newer section of the city with a family of a mother and two young children. The younger one is only 3 years old and doesn’t speak very clearly, so I can’t actually understand him most of the time. On the other hand, sometimes even his mother can’t understand him, so I don’t feel as bad.

My host-sister, who’s 7 years old, made this for me. It says “Herzlich Willkommen, Emily”, which means “heart-felt welcome”.

I have my own bedroom, but I share the rest of the house (the bathrooms, kitchen, washing machine, and living room) with the family. Sometimes it can be hard to fit in among the activity in the morning, with all four of us getting ready at the same time!

To get into the apartment, I have to walk up four flights of exterior stairs- the front door is on the top floor! There’s a small antechamber where we leave our shoes and coats, because no one in Germany wears street shoes in the house. Instead, they favor Hausschuhe (slippers).

When you come further into the house, there’s the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is fairly small, but luckily the family has a dish washer! They do not, however, have a microwave. All leftovers have to be heated using the stove or oven. On the counter, there’s a coffee machine, an electric kettle, and a soda machine. Germans love coffee and tea, and they almost always drink carbonated water instead of plain tap water. My host family keeps a constant supply of home-made Tafelwasser on hand using their soda machine. Personally, I still prefer plain old tap water, and German tap water is perfectly clean and safe to drink.

The kitchen is the only place with trash cans in the house, so I have to bring all of my trash upstairs. Germans have a serious recycling program, and every building and house has three different trash cans in it. At first, I’d have to stop and carefully consider before I could throw anything away! It’s much different from America, were we more or less just absentmindedly toss things in the single trash can.

This is a poster that’s hanging near our classroom. It explains the German recycling system, and what goes in which bin!

In the living room, there’s a “trapeze bar” swing suspended from a beam in the ceiling. The children love to play on it, especially the 7 year old girl. German children have gymnastics classes in kindergarten, so she’s really quite aerobatic sometimes! This is the second indoor swing I’ve seen in Germany, so I’m beginning to suspect that it’s more common here, perhaps because German architectural tastes leave thick wooden accent beams exposed.

Down the spiral staircase (common in Germany) are the bedrooms. The children share a room, and I have my own fairly spacious room.

My room in Germany. You can see that the bed linens are quite different. I took this photo on the first night that I arrived, hence the underexposure.

The bed is a typical German bed. By that, I mean that the queen-sized bed is achieved by pushing two twin mattresses together and covering them with one fitted sheet. There’s no top sheet, but rather only the square duvet that you can see in the photo. My pillow is also actually a large square, that I have to fold in half to get something approximately the size and thickness of an American pillow.

The outlets are, of course, different here, so I have to use converters for all of my electronics.

Both of the floors of the house have a balcony, and I can access the lower one from my room.

This is the view out of my room on the 3rd story. I’ve got a balcony!

One odd thing about Germans is that they don’t like curtains (except for the lacy little half-window curtains, and those are only in older homes). If I want privacy, I have to shut the roll-down, exterior shutter, but unfortunately that blocks my view and most natural light.

Germans use very thick, exterior roll-down shutters instead of curtains. My room has a curtain rod, but no curtains.

Speaking of my door (which is also my window), every day we open the windows for about 5 minutes to “air out” the house. German houses are quite airtight and have no vents, so they can get quite stuffy. Worse yet, they get damp. In the photo below, you can see the condensation that builds on the windows every morning- if we don’t air out the house, black mold can start growing (and does grow a little on the windows, where the water collects). I’ll admit that I’m a bit puzzled why they don’t invest in dehumidifiers, since the damp is such a problem.

Condensation on a window- German houses get damp!

I mentioned that German houses have no vents or central heating/cooling systems. Instead of air conditioning, Germans open windows. Anyone who’s living in the dorms at Hope can relate to this kind of life, except that Germans don’t use window screens! Usually this is ok, but occasionally moths, flies, and other insects invade the house. And instead of a furnace, every room has an adjustable radiator.

Just about every German building, no matter how new, uses radiators instead of furnaces. I believe it’s this system that allows for another German peculiarity: heated bathroom floors! While not ubiquitous by any means, I’ve experienced enough heated bathroom floors here to believe that it’s fairly common. The bathroom is always quite warm, but is fantastic if you’re bathing, but can be a bit oppressive if you’re simply brushing your teeth or doing your makeup.

Every room has an adjustable radiator, rather than there being a central heating system or vents. There’s also no air conditioning.

While on the topic of the German bathroom, there’s a lot of little differences. The toilets here have no toilet tank and sport two flush buttons instead of a lever. The buttons save water by allow you to choose a larger or a smaller flush, depending on what you’re flushing. I’m still a little hazy about which buttons do which, but I have a 50/50 chance of guessing the correct one, so so far I haven’t asked anyone to explain.

The bath and shower also both have a hand-held nozzle, instead of just a fixed faucet. This is quite common in Germany, and personally I like the ability to hold the shower nozzle. I believe the nozzle for the tub is so that you can rinse yourself off after bathing.

This sign is in the guest bathroom at my host family’s house. It says “please sit while peeing”. There’s a cultural movement in Germany that encourages men to sit while using the toilet, because Germans find it cleaner. Such humorous and informative signs are fairly common in Germany.

Doing laundry is also a little different from back home- there’s no dryers in Germany! Instead, there’s drying racks for clothes. Without a dryer, clothes turn out wrinkly and stiff, so ironing is more necessary than in America. It does save energy, though, and Germans are quite environmentally conscious.