Geneva, Switzerland

In case I haven't mentioned it before, there's a rule in Spain that says that you can live here legally as long as you leave the European Union at least once every three months. Even if you just walk across the border of Andorra, as long as you return with a new stamp in your passport you're good to go. So, seeing as how my three months are almost up and I don't want to have to bribe the Spanish customs officials to let me back in after my trip home for Christmas, I took a trip to Switzerland this past weekend. The thought process on choosing Switzerland went something like this: Switzerland is out of the EU. There are cheap flights to Switzerland. The cheapest flights are to Geneva. Let's go to Geneva.

Patrick and I left early Friday morning and slept through most of the hour-long flight. I woke up in time to take some pictures of the Alps as we were flying over them:




























The first day was cloudy and cold, but we wandered around and found some interesting places














including a restaurant where they let birds fly around freely






(I named these 3 Brad, Owen, and Viggo for Mom)







and my personal favorite







At night we made our way to a hookah bar (past this pretty fountain) and chilled out enjoying mint tea and strawberry hookah.




















The next day we explored even more and made our way around Lake Geneva,




















making friends with some swans along the way


















We climbed some steps for a view of the city before deciding that we needed to get higher to get a better view.














So... we went inside a church (the St Pierre Cathedral) and hopped the turnstile to get to the top (oh so rebellious!)

























































Then we climbed the approximately 1,000 winding stairs back down (I didn't trip once!) and wandered back to the lake.




This is my favorite picture from the trip:



Here's when I figured out how to take panoramic pictures on my camera:



If you look closely, you can see the rainbow off the Jet d'Eau.

Friday and Saturday involved a lot of walking around and exploring the city, which we quickly found out is the most expenive city in an already expensive country. A normal dinner meal (not including pizza or salad) was about 30 francs, and there's not a huge difference between the franc and the dollar. On Sunday, we showed up at the booth to buy ferry boat tickets only to find out that there was a time change while we were sleeping, so we were an hour early. Bonus hour in Geneva. On the ferry we took a tour around Lake Geneva and got a closer look at the huge 140 foot fountain.















































We had some time to kill, so we got off at a random bus stop, wandered down a trail, and ended up hanging out on a swingset watching the little French-speaking children play before taking the bus to the airport.

This is a pretty church near the airport bus stop.































View from the plane:



And just as I'm finally done uploading these, I have a fresh new batch of photos from my trip to Ibiza this past weekend. Here we go...

Update

A few notable moments related to my teaching job:

1) I lost one of my classes because representatives from the EU program that was funding the class were going to start coming and asking nosy questions like, "Are you teaching here legally?". It was actually a blessing, though, because my schedule is a lot better now Mondays and Wednesdays plus now I have confirmation that my work knows and doesn't care that I don't have legal papers. And, a security guard who works in the building where I was teaching the class asked me to start teaching him private lessons ( = more $$$). Which brings us to...

2) Creepy security guard. The first sign of strangeness was when he insisted that he was 24 even though his birthday is about a week before mine, despite my attempts to show him that it wasn't mathematically possible. Then he started giving me weird compliments and making awkward attempts to ask about my relationship status. Today he told me I have a "good neck" and asked me if I knew Dracula. Then he said that if he were a vampire he would want to bite my neck. What a dreamboat. Needless to say, I'm increasing my efforts to find more students so I can afford to drop this guy.

Here are some completely unrelated pictures I took of Plaza España because it's pretty:

Hogar Dulce Hogar

Since the beginning of October (and until the end of the month), I've been living with Patrick and his three Israeli roommates, Ori, Nere, and Eldad. The place also includes a revolving door of visitors. First there was the adorable 3 year old Mexican girl and her mom who lived in the room previously and needed to stay a few extra days. Recently there was the nomadic friend of a friend of Nere, but she took off today to go to a nearby town and sleep in a cave for a few weeks. No lie. They're all required to spend time in the military, and accordingly are about 150% more badass than I'll ever be.
The apartment itself is very cool. Nere's an artist, and his paintings are hanging on every wall, some even with backlighting. There's a balcony and shelves full of books in Hebrew. Did you know they start reading from what we would consider to be the back of the book? Crazy! Everyone is very laid back and friendly, and I'm getting a unique cultural experience beyond what I ever would have expected in Spain. I introduced them to Michelle "I'm Jewish, just check out my last name!" Bernstein and they all had a nice chat about Israel and such. Plus they, of course, rushed to ask me which one she liked as soon as she walked out the door.

On November 1st I'll be moving to my own place nearby in a very cool area called Barrio Gótico (aka the Gothic Quarter). It's very central and is in the same part of the city where my previous home, Hostal New York, is located. But I don't like to talk about those 2 joyous weeks spent sleeping on bunkbeds and showering with flip flops on. Sounds like college, right? Except at UMD I don't recall being woken up every morning by a 200 pound Romanian cleaning lady asking whether or not I'm changing rooms ("No, estoy durmiendo!"). And I don't think I ever shared a room with a drunk Italian guy who walked over to the corner of the room and took a nice long pee before returning to his bed to continue snoring like a freight train. Plus, their room service is really slow and the jacuzzis are too hot. But other than that, I would definitely recommend it!

Anyway... Barrio Gótico. Most off the buildings are really old, from as far back at Medieval times, and they're arranged in a maze of little pedestrian streets. Even though its got the impressive Gothic architechture, there are lots of modern shops, bars, and restaurants all around. I was lucky enough to find a big room in a big apartment with everything I need for not very expensive. The best part is that I'll be renting from a couple who don't speak any English. When I went to check out the place originally, I brought my friend Eric, from Mexico, to come help me translate since I didn't want to find out later that I agreed to something crazy. As for the couple I'll be living with: they're both very nice, she's a fashion designer from outside of Barcelona, and all I know about him is that he's originally from Argentina. There's another girl my age, a French student who speaks some English and Spanish, who's also living there, but I haven't meant her yet. I was getting worried that they found someone else because I hadn't heard from them since I orginally made the deal. But, I got a called from her today apologizing and saying she's been in China. I'm going over there sometime this week to meet the last girl and talk about when I can move in. Soooo, that's a relief! I'll make sure to post pictures of my room as soon as I get settled. For now, I'm really enjoying living here, and I'm a little sad to be leaving. But even when I'm sad, I'm sad in Spain, and that to me is pretty sweet.

Pictures: My current street, Portal d'Angel, during the day and at night

Start Planning the Parade

I'm planning a trip back to the States on the 21st through the 28th, including a few days in the College Park/DC area. Just enough time to collect my Christmas presents and be on my way. Kidding! I'd love to see everyone before I head back to Spain, and I promise not to give everyone I meet two kisses on the cheek or insist on eating dinner at 10:00 pm. Por favor, let me know if you'll be around!

Picture: Me making my way across the Atlantic, Elian Gonzolez-style (that's right, I pull from only the most current headlines)

"Imagine there's no countries"

Teaching has gotten a whole lot sweeter recently because I GOT PAID! I mean, it's rewarding to help people, young and old, learn a new language and do my small part to bring the world together through the power of communication and social connections. And there's nothing quite like seeing the look on a child's face after you've taught him something new. But there's also nothing quite like holding cash in your hands after you've taken your first paycheck to the bank. $Tax free, baby$!

I had two great classes in a row with my favorite class this week. They actually let me be creative instead of insisting on doing every exercise in the workbook until the hour is up. Yes, that might make lesson planning easy, but it's so much more interesting to start a discussion and hear people's thoughts, and it gives the students a chance to practice having a real conversation in English. On Tuesday, I had them share their homework which was to pick a song in Spanish and translate it to English. We talked about their songs, and translation in general, and then I played them "Imagine" by John Lennon and gave them the lyrics. It ended up turning into a really interesting discussion about how to break down barriers to reach this ideal world, and whether or not it would ever happen. Then today, after reading an article about scientists studying the ice caps before it's too late, we got into an intense chat about everything from recycling and hyrids to global warming, Al Gore, and the upcoming elections, somehow. Plus, I got a little grammar lesson in there by conjugating some reporting verbs (about as thrilling as it sounds).

I'm about to go out and enjoy the start of my three-day weekend. I'm planning on doing some fabulously touirst-y things tomorrow, so more Barcelona pictures to come soon...hasta luego!

The Ramblas

The main street of Barcelona is called Las Ramblas and is known for street performers, tourists, and being the #1 spot to visit if you want to get your wallet stolen. It's lined up and down by restaurants, souvenir shops, flower vendors, and is the "emotional hub of Barcelona" (according to Wikipedia).
















It runs from Placa Catalunya (below, where I'm living near now), down to the harbor.














































During the day and into the night, there are different vendors on the street to meet your every need, from buying a bouquet of flowers to purchasing a new pet parakeet.


































Then there's Mercat Boqueria, the biggest market in Spain:



And finally, a picture a souvenir shop just because I'm easily amused by signs with my name on them:



The man in the door looks a litle confused as to why I'm taking a picture...

***

From walking up, down, and across Las Ramblas every day since I've been here, I've seen my fair share of street performers, or "estatuas" (statues), as they're called. I've developed a love/hate relationship with them. On one hand, they make the walk to the metro more colorful and serve as a good landmarks ("Let's meet at the restaurant we ate at the other night, you know, the one behind the man sprayed in gold paint holding a giant globe"). On the other hand, when I'm trekking to the metro in heels on my way to my fourth class of the day and pass a girl in a cow costume sitting on a cardboard box with her hand out for money, it takes a lot of energy for me to contain my urge to ask her what exactly she's charging for.

So, for the audience at home, I'll document the good, the bad, and the just plain obnoxious (i.e. mimes) so you can decide for yourselves.

For now, we have:


Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas
We were cool until I went up to give him a few coins and he put his spindly skeleton fingers in my hair. Not OK, Jack-O.








This one we'll call "Gold Man Holding a Snake".









This might have been me if I hadn't found a teaching job in the first few months here. I wonder what my act would have been...?

***

So, there you go. Photographic evidence that I'm actually in Barcelona. It only took me a month to get around and take pictures. More to come soon!