Buenos tardes from Granada! This report is brought to you via a very sleepy Rachel, so a little patience on the reader's behalf might be required. She currently sits bundled up in sweatshirts, gloves, and thick socks, all the while still under her bed's blankets. Essentially, night has successfully fallen, and Rachel is happily combating the frigid indoor temperatures with a good 'ole fashioned cocoon.
After some fairly lengthy layovers, airport explorations (Chicago O'Hare has a lovely indoor, vertical botanical garden), new acquaintances, and micro-naps during flights, Granada was finally reached. A beautiful moment indeed, and not just from the relief of the long-anticipated arrival. As we drove out from the airport, one was immediately presented with a full and oh so complete rainbow. Easily, we could see the points where the colors touched down among the sparse countryside vegetation. Of course, we eventually drove directly underneath said rainbow to reach our new homes. I'll gladly take that as a good sign.
Though the majority of my exposure to Granada thus far is sights seen from car windows, I can say without hesitation that this city is beautiful. Granted, rain and mistiness greeted us, but such conditions only made for even more loveliness. Our residencia, or dorm, is located in the city's center, a busy downtown locale complete with incredibly narrow, stone-laden streets. The wet conditions made for glistening streets and an extra bit of bustle -- people darted from one storefront to the next, hurrying about. The stores, particularly the clothing boutiques, are quite modern, which definitely fits with the population's clear concern for fine apparel. I have yet to see someone not dressed in their finest; chic and clean-cut is the clear trend, but it seems that if the ensemble is fashion-forward, it's acceptable. Granada is on the smaller end, size-wise, but it truly still maintains the larger city feel in the way its people dress and maneuver about.
As for my living arrangements, my roommate and I are up on the fourth floor of the residenica. Our room is comfortable, spacious, and has windows looking out into corridors filled with clotheslines. Our room is off of a decently sized, mirror and stained glass surrounded kitchen, which will no doubt prove to be extra Spanish practice, as the students love hanging out there (smoking, laughing, and singing), and all can be easily heard in our room. Not a problem, though! So far I am enjoying hearing the manner in which they interact. Life in the residencia is looking to be beautiful -- a good mix of Spanish and international students, old wooden doors within the building, and delicious food in the dining room. Lunch was being served when we arrived, to our stomachs' delight. Potato and bean soup, pork kabobs, some sort of pico de gallo, and custard were on today's menu. Lunch is their biggest meal of the day, eaten during the daily siesta (between 2 and 5 pm). Dinner is smaller and commences around 9 pm. The servers in the dining room, just like the Spanish students, are extremely patient and so eager to help out us delirious Americans. The language is far easier to understand than I anticipated, too, as the pace is slower. The notorious Spanish accent, though, will certainly take some getting used to.
In any event, day one of Espana has been nothing short of lovely. Tomorrow will be filled with venturing about the city. Tourist time. My apologies once more for the scattered nature of this report. Those to come will hopefully be slightly less disjointed (though this I cannot completely guarantee...).
Take care, amigos!
[Lastly, fact of the day: while waiting for my flight from Chicago to Madrid, I met a British gentleman who has lived in Spain for upwards twelve years. During our very entertaining conversation, he advised me never to accept an offer to go "olive picking." Apparently, one does not actually "pick" olives, but instead violently beats the olive tree until all olives are on the ground. An exhausting process, said this man, Stefan, and one tree will likely do in an average individual. "Picking" olives does not and will not exist. Noted.]
No comments:
Post a Comment