Saturday, April 10, 2010

As Days Go By

Music serves as the inspiration for a lot of my thoughts. I'm not what one would call a "music geek" but there's nothing that I like more than being able to either walk somewhere beautiful or just sit and listen to my iPod for hours on end. Music brings beauty and serenity and fresh thinking--and after a grueling, yet amazing journey that's exactly what I needed.

One of my favorite songs comes from the Canadian band Carbon Leaf. The oft-repeated chorus line reads "this is my day, this is my song! I am alive what can go wrong?" The song came up as two days ago as I was walking from my flat down to Holyrood Park. The goal was to climb Arthur's Seat for the second time, the giant hill (calling it mountain might be a little too bold) which, like many other such formations in Edinburgh, is an extinct volcano. Not only do I find it hard to sit still most days--just doing nothing really bugs me--but I needed some time to reflect on the past trip, the next few weeks, and most importantly, what my life would be like when I got back to Maine. While stresses are multiple at this point--planning another trip, anticipating exams, moving houses, finding and internship, thesis, etc.--I quickly realized that what really mattered was me, not the things going on with me involved. Carbon Leaf's lyrics provided the inspiration I needed at that time. I'm alive. I'm healthy, both physically and mentally. I'm in Edinburgh. I've been successful in most of my endeavors. What else did I need?

Another inspiration came from the daily United Church of Christ devotional that I (try to) read every day. Psalm 118 states "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!" Reflecting on this passage, Christina Villa writes, "We don't have to be glad for every day just because God made it. God made it to give us things to be glad about. But it's up to us to recognize them." This is indeed my point. Walking through the streets of Edinburgh you often look at people's expressions. Most likely, people are expressionless, sullen, mad, or determined. Yet when you see a person who's genuinely smiling; looking happy to be alive, you assume that they're either drunk, high, or mentally unstable. Why? Why do we have to be so determined or unhappy? Why is being joyful simply for being in one's own position in life something that has to be so out of the ordinary? Well as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't have to be. The next few weeks that I have here in Edinburgh are completely unstructured--the schedule determined by me and me alone. No exams to study for--that will come in good time. No appointments or lectures or anything else. So instead of being bored and upset of lack of things to do, I plan to enjoy the small things. Take today for instance. I just got back from a nice workout at the gym. I stopped by Tesco on the way home to buy eggs, bacon, and orange juice (Tropicana actually, because it was on sale). I'm going to eat this wonderful meal and then walk down to Prince's Street to enjoy the miraculous spring weather. After that, I might just sit in Prince's Street Gardens, listening to my iPod and reflecting on all the small blessings that God has graced me with. Oh, and then Barcelona v. Real Madrid is on TV tonight--might as well watch that.

To the old me, that would be a rather boring day, but can't being alive be enough? Can't the blessing of free time, money to buy quality food, and the ability to walk miles to enjoy oneself be enough to celebrate? I think it can be, and I hope that I can do my part by enjoying the small things, to bring about good change in this world. I am alive, what can go wrong? As for now, just about nothing.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Rome: Irony, Stress, Hordes of People, and Memories to Last a Lifetime

Where to begin? Obviously, due to the lack of activity over the past few days, I haven't had a chance to update the blog while I was in Rome. So, whether successful or not, I'm going to attempt to recap five ridiculous days in one blog post. Like most of my pictures for this trip--which numbered more than 1,000--my words can't really do this story justice, but they will have to suffice.

Rome was planned to be the highlight of my trip. We had intentionally planned four full days--as opposed to our customary 2 1/2--because it was agreed that Rome in general, and more importantly Rome over Easter, was something that warranted more time. What we did not expect was how tired we would be. Barcelona and Madrid drained nearly all the energy we had. This was not to say that the days did not delivered what we had expected, we had six of the most amazing days ever, in two gorgeous locations, seeing pretty much every sight we had set out to see. Yet, the combination of eight or more hours of walking, one or two meals a day, and not enough water added up to three very tired boys come April 2.

So we departed Madrid at about 5, getting to the airport in about an hour, sitting through the long check-in lines for Ryanair. Once on the plane, the tiredness seemed to not affect us at all. The constant mantra of, "guys, we're going to..." resurfaced, and we just couldn't wait to hit the ground. Without a hitch, we found our way from the airport, to the shuttle bus, to the train station, to the right metro line, and to the hostel. That's where things started to go downhill. After searching the street to find the hostel (house numbers in Rome do not alternate sides of the street) we rang the bell..."I'll be right down" said the voice. Weird, we thought, usually we can go right up. Turns out there was a "toilet explosion" in the hostel and we needed to be moved. Well great, it's 1:00 in the morning, we're tired and the guy is telling us that we can't stay where we were planning on staying. Well we get into a cab and drive for what seems like miles and miles, until we get to the hood--graffiti everywhere, creepy looking people, the whole bit. We go into an old building and walk up tons of stairs until we get to this guy's "apartment." To call it that would be being kind. There was only a fridge, no sink or stove. There was one bathroom and a bunch of bedrooms. The place reeked of cigarettes and pot. He showed us to a room that had three beds and dresser in it, no lockers. He proceeded to be "nice" and give us a 33% discount on the stay, but he didn't have change, meaning that I gave him 10 euro less than I should have. Yes, it was as sketchy and creepy as it sounds, but I was in Rome?!

For one reason or another, this experience didn't phase me as much as my two travelling buddies. Yes, I wasn't completely comfortable. Yes, this wasn't what we were expecting. Maybe it was my tiredness and willingness to accept just about anything, but I just wanted to enjoy Rome, especially on that holiest of weekends, and not worry about anything else.

Now on to the sightseeing. We mastered the public transportation in Rome very quickly. Because of our precarious location, we had to take a a streetcar to the major train station to take the Metro anywhere, but we were able to buy a unlimited travel card for 16 euro--a deal we definitely made the most out of. The first thing that struck me about Rome was how the old and the new are so seamlessly woven together. On the trip to the station, we passed under aquaducts built thousands of years ago, saw statues to past emperors, but also saw the makings of a modern city. However, Rome is definitely not the cleanest of towns. There's dirt and other not-so-pleasant stuff everywhere you walk. Graffiti pollutes most views, and you get the sense that Rome has just run out of the money it needs to keep up with the necessary upkeep. But all that aside...

The first day was Vatican day. Knowing that the museum would be closed on Sunday and Monday, we decided to brave the crowds and go to the Musei Vaticani to see what the Catholics had to show up. Now about the crowds...Saturday wasn't that bad, but as the weekend progressed Rome became more and more like Disney World. Not only were the lines beyond belief, but the crowds spread to the Metro, to the restaurants, to everything. We agreed early on that while Rome was amazing to see, it was more like a contest to see to who could get to every sight first--making the experience more of checking things off the list than getting to stop and savor what it was that you were seeing. But back to the Museum...

After waiting for a good two hours, we finally made it in, and boy did it live up to expectations. The Vatican Museum is not like any other museums that you'd ever see. It's a series of rooms all exquisetly painted and decorated, from floor to ceiling, which house some of the world's greatest pieces of religious art. From Rafael's famous painting of Aristotle and the forum to amazing depictions of Jesus and the entire Bible, to busts and statues of every Pope.

Of course the crown jewel of the collection is the Sistene Chapel. Being the Pope's private chapel, it's understandable why the guards make sure--rather unsuccessfully so I may add--that people don't take pictures, videos, or speak much at all. Even so, the room is magnificent, and was something that we stopped and stared at for a good 20 minutes. Michaelangelo definitely did a good job.

As good as start as Saturday proved to be, Sunday outdid it 20 to 1, and easily was the best day of the entire trip. It was Easter and was a day that I was both looking forward to and dreading at the same time. Being a devout Christian, it's the holiest day of the year. The end of Lent and the marking of the miraculous resurrection of Jesus, as well as the recognition of the potential for rebirth. Because of this, being in Rome made the day special automatically. Despite my not being Catholic, Rome is definitely a holy city, and whether or not you agree with what the Catholic church stands for, there is a divine power in its buildings and monuments, but more importantly there is power in the hundreds of thousands of people that flock to Rome to share in the celebration. That was the joy of being in Rome for Easter. The dread was having to be away from family. Being a very family centered holiday it seemed like not being with mine would severely detract from the situation, but I wasn't completely right on that.

I had wanted to go to Mass on Easter morning, but because we were situated in the ghetto, and going to church would mean getting up at an amazingly early hour and going to a church where I would not feel at home did not seem like a fair tradeoff. So instead we got up a bit later and made it to the Pantheon, because it was closing at 1PM that Easter Sunday. Like many other attactions, the Pantheon was packed to the gills with tourists, but was definitely worth the wait and the time. While we only spent a couple minutes in there, it was worth it to see such an ancient and beautiful building, not to mention something that I had made a sand and glue model of for a 9th grade history project.

But then we went to St. Peter's Basilica. It had apparently been the wish of both Jonathan and Cliff that we do this, so naturally I concurred.

Words cannot describe the emotions of those hours. First it was the train ride, cars packed with pilgrims speaking every language imaginable. Then it was waiting in a line which stretched the full circumference of the Piazza San Pietro at least once, seeing where the Pope had said mass only a few short hours before. Then it was walking up the steps and into the cavernous sanctuary. At that moment emotion gripped me. I don't know whether it was more the lack of food, water and sleep, or the tiredness of my legs, but I felt carried away to a more spiritual and holy place. We walked slowly around the storied church, where I touched holy relics, saw the famed Pieta, and was able to pray along side hundreds of other Christians. No, it was not my tradition, but feeling the history and the sacredness of the place blessed my Easter in ways that words cannot describe.

Oh and then we went inside and toured the Colosseum...no big deal. That building is also a wonder and a marvel, of a much different sort of course. I had almost thought that the 12 euro entrance fee wasn't worth it, but I was completely wrong. Like the Camp Nou, we just took our time and walked around its massive interior, marveling at the architecture and the history...quite an experience.

Then the last two days were all about seeing the ancient Roman sites. From the Forum, to all the archaelogical excavation on Palatine Hill, to the hundreds of blocks of granite and marble strewn about the city. Again, words can't really describe all of that. Being the brother of someone who as a PhD in this kind of thing, and being someone who grew up soaking in every possible detail about the ancient world, getting to see these things was beyond amazing. However, after a while we found that it all bascially looked the same (you should see the hundreds of pictures that I have of such things) and that our fatigue outweighed our need to go on.

Lastly, a note about the food in Rome...unbelievable. I don't think that I can eat a pizza or pasta for some time, so I can let my tastebuds recover. Because of the lack of hostel advice, we had to go by the guidebook and ended up eating at four restaurants over the course of the four days. The first was dal Papa, a lovely little sandwich shop right outside the Vatican. Good sandwiches are hard to come by in Rome, especially because all of the tourist sites are dominated by these carts which sell the same premade, mass manufactured food at riculous prices. dar Papa was quite the opposite. For 4 euro I bough the San Proschutio, a sandwich made on a warm, fresh piece of bread with fresh sliced Parma ham, buffola mozzerlla cheese which the owner told me was brought in fresh and still warm twice a week, and the freshest lettuce and tomato ever. Bottom line, best sandwich I'd ever tasted, even better than those of Bo de B in Barca. My tastebuds were so happy that we came back again for a second round yesterday.

Then there was Luzzi's a popular restaurant right near the Colosseum...yes, we were able to walk past the Colosseum to get to dinner, a fact that we were always amazed at. During two nights there I got two pasta dishes that would blow anyone's mind. The pasta was fresh and amazingly prepared, the price (5,50) was unbelievable, and the atmosphere was very very Italian, making for an amazing meal. Oh, and they also charged 4 euro for a liter of Italian wine...enough said.

And finally, everyone's favorite, Dar Poeta. Tucked into a tiny side alley in a gorgeous Tiber-side neighborhood, this place was something that we found in the guidebook, but which took us nearly an hour to find. It was initially the capstone to our Easter Sunday travels, but was so good that Jonathan and I decided to make it our last meal in Italy. It only serves pizza, but the pizza aint your farm variety Pizza Hut pizza, this stuff just makes you want more and more, and shames any other pizza that I've ever had--condolences to Flatbread, Ricetta's, SoPoHoPo and many others. I ordered the Vicoletto, which is pesto with cherry tomatoes and sliced roasted potatoes. It was unreal. I can only imagine what the thing would cost in the US (it only cost me 7 euro). The flavors exploded in your mouth, the freshness blew you away, and you had to eat slowly in order to savor it all. I can only wish that I can have it again some day.

Oh, and gelatto is to die for. Yes, to put it crudely it's Italian ice cream, but it's so much more. The fruit flavors taste hand picked, the chocolates are so rich that you think that that's just straight chocolate with no filler--maybe so--and the best part is that it's relatively cheap and you can get two or three flavors per serving. That was desert every day.

So that's Rome. As I said initially, this is a very brief and rough rendering of my days there. They were hectic, they were stressful, but they were still some of the best days of my life. I am truly a blessed person to have been able to experience all of this. For that I am truly thankful.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Adios España.

Here it is, my last Spanish blog post. It´s not as if I´ve spent a semester here, but a week can be a long time--or at least feel like a long time--when you´re constantly travelling in unfamiliar surroundings. To say that I´m exhasuted would be a major understatement. We´ve walked an average of eight hours a day and have eaten a lot less food than we should have. Yet despite all of this, Spain has blown my mind. I know that my perception of the country would change even more--most likely in a postive direction--if I was able to spend more time here, and visit more cities than I have. Yet Barcelona and Madrid have definitely shown us all a good time.

The cities have both been gorgeous, in very different ways. We´ve seen as many sights as we possibly could over teh course of a week. We´ve sampled some wonderful local food. From the paella that we had at El Volcano last night, to the amazing tapas at El Tigre, to the baguette and strawberries at the market in Barça, to the maximo sandwichthat we had at Bó de B on the beach. Spain was everything that I wanted it to be, and then some.

I´m not saying that I regret my decision to study in Edinburgh--that has been amazing. But I now see the charm, the sparkle, and the magic that Spain has to offer. Not only has my desire to go the distance in learning Spanish been invigorated, but I know that some of the best experiences of my life have been forged here on the Iberian peninsula.

But as for now the book as to be closed. In a few short hours, we´ll board a plane for Rome. Rome must be the city that I most want to visit in the entire world. Not only for the Christian aspects but the Roman aspects. However, it´s also a very dirty, busy town--characteristics which will be accentuated by it being Easter weekend. But we´ll see. For now I only need to savor the times that I´ve had, and pray that the goodness keeps on coming.