Blogging at a Spanish pace

There are so many blog posts I have started in my head over the last month, but A lot has happened, including, among other things, getting engaged to this guy! On the advice of a friend (who suggested I could then link this on my gchat status so people would stop asking me to repeat it – thanks Jeff!), I will offer a brief engagement story:

Before I left for Spain, I had made Mark promise to come visit me. I knew I likely wouldn’t be back for Christmas, and so we would go a whole 8 months without seeing each other if he couldn’t visit. He booked a flight as a Christmas present (wow!) and came over for 2 weeks at the end of February, right during the famous Cádiz Carnaval. After a horrific flight over in which he managed to lose his coat AND his luggage (the luggage came 2 days later, the coat was mailed to his U.S. address after several calls to the Lisbon airport, where few people speak English or even Spanish), and spent 12 more hours in airports than he had anticipated, we were all smiles at the Sevilla airport where I picked him up on Valentine’s Day! (It was also fun to watch the reunions of 3 other couples before Mark finally came out the door…talk about anticipation!). We enjoyed the Carnaval in Cádiz with Lauren and several CIEE friends, snapping photos of cute kids, crazy costumes and “chirigotas” (the singing groups that compete each year and walk or are driven on a tractor around the city during Carnaval). We had made plans to head to Munich to visit a couple of Mark’s friends, but before we left Mark said it would be nice to have a nice dinner out somewhere and maybe walk along the beach. On Tuesday February 24^th (which also happens to be my mom’s birthday – way to impress a future mother-in-law, ha ha), Mark had bought me a bouquet of flowers which I found upon my return home from work – this was my first clue that something was up. [Sidenote: He did this all on his own while I was at work – we had passed through the Plaza de las Flores several times in our trips around Cádiz, but he remembered where it was!] That evening we watched the sun set, stopped by the Cathedral of Cádiz, and went to dinner at El Aljibe (convincing Mark that the small “tapas” portions of food are filling if you get a bunch of them, however, was a no-go J). After dinner Mark suggested we walk back out to the beach...another clue that he might be up to something. I took off my shoes to walk across the sand, but it was a bit chilly, so we walked back out on the pier leading to the castle of San Sebastian. Midway out we decided to sit down for a bit on the pier, enjoying the sound of the evening waves rolling onto the shore, and the castle lit up at night. He then surprised me by saying he had some things he had written down about our relationship, and why he loved me, and after reading them he fished around in his wallet (taking a little longer than he anticipated), pulled out a (sapphire!) ring, got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. To which I responded “yeah!!!!” Here are a couple pictures from that night, and the rest of his time here:

happy birthday from Spain!

Sorry about the delay in posts...to all 3 of you readers out there :)

This weekend has included a bit of everything. Mark was due to fly into Sevilla Saturday (Valentine's Day!) at 11:30am, but on my way to the airport to pick him up I got a message letting me know he'd missed his flight in Lisbon, and would not be into Sevilla until 11pm Saturday night. He finally arrived, exhausted and luggage-less. The luggage was delivered to Cadiz about 48 hours later (fast!), and after a couple calls to the Portuguese Police at the Lisbon Airport ("Does someone speak English?"..."No, Portuguesh"..."Spanish?"..."No, Portuguesh"..."English?"..."Un momento..."..."Hola?") we have also located the coat. Getting it back will be a different adventure...perhaps an excuse to drive to Lisbon? If only I could drive stick.

I also had the privelege of having Mark here for my (24th!) birthday on Monday. And my old friends, the-birds-of-Spain, did NOT disappoint when they (well, one of them anyway) sprinkled me with their good luck...on my face. This was milli-seconds before I called out "Hello!" to a friend who was passing by. She thought the ice cream I was eating was perhaps blueberry flavored, and (ha!), silly me I had gotten some on my face. If only :)

[Sidenote: As I read back to some of my posts, I think I've been doing a fair amount of "complaining". Please don't interpret this as a lack of love for Spain. I LOVE this place, and would highly recommend visiting someday if you get the chance. I'm only here for 3 more months...make your booking at "Apartment le Cat & Lauren" soon if you want!]

As I only have a few moments before Mark finishes up some work that he brought with him (ah! the life of a grad student!), I leave you with two clips from the newly debuted Spanish version of Saturday Night Live. Which is shown on Thursdays. Go figure.

The Cowbell Skit - in Spanish


Weekend Update - A proposal that Israelis and Gaditanos (people from Cadiz) should switch places (the basic premise being that Israelis might Gaditano humor and way of arguing and "stop destroying Gaza". The skit is more about making fun of Gaditanos than making a political statement, as Cadiz is famous in Andalusia for believing itself to be the best at everything and to have the best food/culture, etc (not in an overly-proud kind of way, most of the time, but a way that's more a cultural preservation method...though I suspect the pride in one's province/city is about the same almost anywhere you go in the world). The Gaditano guy (the one on the right), from his accent to his way of over-exaggerating things, to talking about the "chirigotas" during Carnaval, really plays up Gaditano humor. I had to watch this about 3 times through to get it (and there are still some things that I don't get), but it was fun watching Gaditanos being made fun of and being able to say "Hey! I understand why that's funny...because I HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH THESE PEOPLE!". I particularly like the way the Gaditano guy says "Buenas noches!" 3 times in really exaggerated ways when he's intro'd.

I'm going to make a snowman!

This past week I was able to accompany 30 7th graders from my school on an overnight class trip to Granada, chaperoning along with the Jose-Miguel the phys-ed teacher, Noe the English teacher and Abby, the other language and culture assistant (from Seattle). We started off at 8:30 in the morning, waving goodbye to nervous mothers and relieved teachers (class size reduced by 90% for two days! Glorious!). The kids were hilarious on the bus, singing camp-type songs on the bus, and trying to make Abby and I promise to speak only in Spanish for the whole trip (nothing doing kiddos! I'm here to teach you English!).

We didn't visit the Alhambra (which surprised me at first...but after spending less than 48 hours with these kids, I think it was probably a wise decision to save the Alhambra for a high school trip - so active). Instead, we visited Granada's huge "Parque de las Ciencias" (Science Park - think a combination of a small zoo plus the Hands-On Museum or Cosi museum in Ohio...multiply that by 10).


Science Park Playground from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.

We also got to take a bus trip up to the Sierra Nevada mountains where the kids went sledding and ice skating. I think for a fair amount of them it was their first time seeing real, live snow, so it was fun to watch their reactions. The first video is of the kids seeing the snow-capped mountains from the bus as we got closer to Granada - (the tour guide was telling them a legend about two lovers one a Muslim princess, the other a Christian man who jumped from some nearby cliffs because they would never be accepted in one another's worlds) - you can hear them get excited as soon as the tour guide mentions "nieve" (pronounced "nee-ay-vay"). The second video is them when they first got off the bus in the Sierra Nevada:


Seeing snow from the bus from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.


Snow Fight! from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.

I also didn't realize until the trip how much I actually kind of missed the snow (ok, ok - I realize that all you guys in the Michigan/Midwest area have just been hit with tons of snow lately, and unbelievable cold...but think how much winter would be lacking without the snow, but just the cold! That's kind of what it's been like here...but a little warmer). I had a heyday getting my kids to sled down from a higher place on the hill ("It's more fun! I promise!" I told them), and getting them to try skating backwards (there might have been a little showing off involved there too...ahem). It was also funny to me to see signs for "sled rental" and "ski clothing rental" - something which makes sense for most Andalusians since they don't live in a place that snows very often.

a conversation over breakfast in Morocco

Context: The family visited for Christmas. It was great, number one, because I got to be with THEM! Also it was great because it gave me an opportunity to play tour guide and go to places I hadn't had the opportunity to go yet, like Tangiers (Morocco). It's only a 40-minute ferry ride from the tip of the Iberian peninsula in Tarifa (Spain). We took a great tour of Morocco with our tour guide, who called himself "Aziz-Number-One", and had a tour-guide friend called "Ali-the-Frog". Aziz-Number-One made a point of indicating all the doors in the city and in the Kasbah that Henri Matisse had painted during a two-year stint in Tangiers during the early 20th century. The day after our tour, at breakfast in our hotel (whose elevator lacked a closing sliding door so that you could see every floor as you passed it), I had a conversation with my parents after Becky and Nate had left that went something like this (don't worry, I got permission to share this on the blog, as long as I wasn't "too hard" on my mom, who I love a TON. Please keep in mind that she had had very little sleep on the plane 2 days before, and her oldest daughter had given her very little time to recover before pushing the whole family out the door to a restless bus-ride and ferry ride. I tell this story with much love, mom!):

Mom: Well, wow, I had no idea that Henri Matisse had painted all those doors!

Dad: Those are some good views.

Cat: Yeah, I didn't know he had spent all that time in Morocco either.

Mom: I mean, I'm surprised they don't put plaques there or something - you'd think people would want to preserve a door a little more if it had been painted by Henri Matisse.

[Dad and Cat give each other looks with raised eyebrows, and then look at Mom].

Cat: Wait...you don't think he actually painted the doors, do you? When Aziz said he painted them, he meant he painted them on canvas...

Dad: [Cracking up...unable to contain himself...] Ha ha.... [more red-faced laughter]

Mom: Oh...[starts laughing, realizing her misinterpretation of Aziz's words]...ha ha...oh, wow, that explains a lot! Wow...I mean, I was thinking like 'How did Henri Matisse do it? Did he just walk up to people and say 'Can I paint your door?'' - I mean...I thought people must have been really honored to have Henri Matisse paint their doors and so they let him...hee hee....ah ha ha...

Cat: [Also cracking up] Ha ha...oh ha...woooo...

Dad: [Red-faced, doubled over...] Hee hee!

Mom: Ah! Ah ha ha - I mean...oooh, wow. WOW. Ha ha [Johnson giggle/laugh, which can only be truly replicated by the Johnson women...my cousins and aunts/uncles on the Johnson side will understand this]...


So, I leave you with these couple photos of the doors in Tangiers that were painted by Henri Matisse.

Merry Christmas = double post!

Ok, ok. I realized this would happen at some point – I would get behind in blogging. I realize that as these posts aren’t about current things, they may hold less interest with you, but in the interest of documenting as much of Spain as I see it, I’m going to post these stories/thoughts anyway.

1 month after Presidential elections

This is one subject I delayed writing about until after elections simply because it can get dicey. I feel a lot more comfortable relaying the way the elections were seen from abroad a month afterward than I might have a month ago. I’m not going to tell you who I voted for (hooray for absentee voting, however!), though Becky (my soon-to-be-architect sister) knows, and if you really want to know I’ve heard that bribes involving foam-core board work like a charm with her this season.

Comments heard surrounding the U.S. elections (by Spaniards):

“These elections are important not only for you, but for us as well, because the U.S. has so much power.”

“Usually conservative Spaniards want the U.S. Republican candidate to win, and the liberal Spaniards want the U.S. Democratic candidate to win, but in these elections both groups want Obama to win.”

[by a woman from the Democratic Republic]: “I was really glad Obama won, because I think it will have a good impact on race-relations in the U.S.”

[When students were asked who they wanted to win] “Obama!”

[When asked why they wanted Obama to win] “Because he’ll be the first black president.”

“Because it will be historical.”

[By a teacher] “I was under the impression that Sarah Palin and Hillary Clinton were very similar as they were both well-known women in U.S. politics.”

[By a teacher] “When I saw the polls in the morning, I just started crying, it was a change that not just the U.S. needed but that we needed, that the world needed.”

how to get lost on a mountain, and then get back down

Lauren’s colleagues have been pretty good about inviting her to weekend venture with them, and one teacher in particular who we call M, invited her to go on a hike several weekends back. M is a fantastic person, but also someone who can be a bit intense (though endearingly so). When she’s enthusiastic, she’s very enthusiastic! (Sidenote: when Lauren asked one student why they didn’t want to skip class with M, the student replied “because she’ll kill me”.) Anyway, as Lauren wanted to go, she was also all about having “backup” on this one, and asked me and our friend Colleen to go along with. We met up with M and her friend, Pablo, who would be leading us on the hike he had mapped out on his GPS system. Lauren had been able to gather that the hike would be somewhere out in the country, but when Colleen and I both asked her where exactly we’d be going, she was all “heck if I know!” (Sidenote: this is something I love about Lauren. Very rarely does she hesitate on doing something new here, even if we don’t fully understand what’s going on…a perfect friend to travel with :)

Halfway through the drive out to the “country”, we were able to figure out we’d be somewhere in the hills just west of Gibraltar. The climb up was great – Pablo had promised we’d see the northern tip of Africa, and we did! It was amazing.

And then we got lost. Colleen, Lauren and I, along with 3 other Spaniards (Javi, Yolanda, and Susana) who had come along on the hike had gotten a bit ahead of Pablo and the rest of the group (including M). Javi had been on the hike before and thought he knew where to go, but after we watched the sun set and noticed we were still on the top of a mountain where the wind was blowing fiercely (they call it “viento de levante” – lifting wind/east wind), all 6 of us decided we should figure out some way to get down. We had ended up on the highest mountain where there were several cell phone towers in a slightly flattened area. With the mix of fierce wind, being at the same level as the clouds, and it getting darker by the minute, it felt like a scene straight out of a Hollywood creeper movie like “Psycho”.

We ended up deciding to take this paved road back down the mountain, instead of trying to go back on the mountain paths to try and find the rest of the group (we had their cell phone numbers). It was one of the best calls anyone has ever made. I’m sure we would have been stuck on the mountain overnight if we had tried to go back. Even going down the paved path we weren’t entirely sure where we’d end up, but we figured it would probably be a lot warmer than the top of a windy mountain J Javi, Yolanda and Susana were impressed at how happy and calm the “americanas” were (we were singing and laughing, partially to distract ourselves, and partially because it was kind of cool how we’d have a story to tell IF we ever made it back home). We told them it was probably because of the bottle of wine we had in our backpacks that they didn’t know about. Just kidding.

Looking over to Africa from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.


after getting back from being lost on the mountain from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.

Happy Turkey Day in Spain!

A couple of weeks ago Lauren and I offered to host Thanksgiving at our apartment for all our fellow Teach in Spain folks around the Cadiz area. Of course, being hosts this meant that the bird was our responsibility. Lauren took care of asking for a 4-kilo turkey at the local open air market last week (she said she kept feeling like she’d signed some turkey’s death warrant – it probably wouldn’t have gotten the chop until Christmas otherwise), and I grabbed a bucket from the local equivalent of Meijer to brine the turkey in. Lauren took care of the sweet potatoes (she also brought some to her class to sample – they loved it!), I covered the mashed, friends brought stuffing, salad, pasta, bread, apple pies (delicious!) and drinks.











































































Jell–O substituted for cranberry sauce, and we had minor electrical problems a few hours before the food was to be served. Apparently you can’t use the stove AND the oven at the same time in our apartment. (Sidenote: Lauren and I have come up with a response to anything here that we believe works in an inefficient or nonsensical manner – raise your right fist in the air, shake it, and shout “Spain!”)

The nice Spanish couple in the apartment below us helped us figure it out (“Wait for the oven to cool down for ½ an hour, turn everything off, then try the circuit breaker again.”), for which we will be forever thankful and will also bring them a bottle of wine, which we are currently not lacking in. In Spain, whenever a guest doesn’t know what to bring, wine is always a good fallback.

Our apartment isn’t huge, but we wanted to share Thanksgiving with friends we had met in Spain, so we told everyone to invite a guest. We had a range of people come, from roommates of friends to the random guy from Iceland that we met on the train on the way back from Granada who seemed in need of some friends, to Lauren’s tutoring student. It ended up being one of the most international Thanksgivings I’ve ever been at. Total guests numbered at least 20, with representation from the USA, Spain, France, Iceland, Sweden, Czech Republic, and the Dominican Republic. Here’s a Happy Thanksgiving from all of us in Spain:


Happy Thanksgiving from Spain! from Catherine Steiner on Vimeo.

P.S. Being a history major, I wanted to emphasize the history and culture of Thanksgiving when I taught about it to my classes this week (how it started in 1621, but wasn’t declared a national holiday until 1863 by Abe Lincoln, how the Native Americans helped the pilgrims get food). It turns out that history is history, however, and it didn’t really get too interesting for them until I started emphasizing points such as “half the pilgrims DIED that winter”, or told them that the Macy’s Parade floats were taller than their school building and showed pictures as evidence. I wish I had video-taped their reactions to the float pictures…I think they were even more excited than when I had given them candy for Halloween.

Dear Spain

Dear Spain,

I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Despite your 8:30 – 2pm banking hours (hours during which I am traveling your trains and teaching your children, or hoping to be doing anything other than standing in line at the bank).

Yes, despite those hours between 2 and 5 when I come back from school AND HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD to do stuff like buy groceries, visit museums, get my residency card and you choose instead to close your business doors and promise that you’ll be back open around 5pm…despite those, I like you. You know what? I think it’s beginning to grow on me. I’ve never had time like that before where I am forced to not “get anything done”.

Yes, Spain, I think we’ll be just fine. Even though the teachers at school told me it only would rain for about 20 days out of the year here, and about 15 of those have already happened, I still think I like you. Rainy days can be ok (unless you need dry clothes).

Spain, even though your dog-owners often don’t pick up after their pets, leaving me to dodge street doo-doo on my way to the train station in the mornings, even then, I think we’re gonna be ok. I’ll get some boots.

And even though your pigeons leave their own gifts almost everywhere, I’ve learned, Spain, that it’s best to walk down the middle of the street and not the sides so as to avoid the-gift-of-the-pigeon. Also, I’ve learned that a 2-euro investment in some baby wipes to carry around with me everywhere is one that gives a good return.

Yes, Spain, although you don’t believe in central heating and Lauren and I have fought turning on the space heater because it might shatter our dreams of what you were supposed to be (sunny 70s! beach every day!), I do like the fact that you’re helping me to use less energy. Even if it means that heating up the shower-water involves a minor combustion reaction every morning.

Spain, you have a lot going for you. You have these amazing little towns like Arcos de la Frontera, probably put up on a cliff for some defensive reason back in the day, and which now might make even the most determined traveler think twice about how much walking they’re really up for. You also have these amazingly sweet people, including the old sculpture artist, Fernando, down the street who enjoys talking with Lauren and me every time we pass by. He’s so kind. Also, you have the eager flamenco teacher, Maria Jesús, who can still smile at the end of the night after teaching 4 American and 2 French girls how to dance flamenco, even when they make the same mistakes over and over again (one American in particular). And have I mentioned your children? Spain, your children are so cute!

España, I really LOVE your pastries too – napolitanas and cañones are hard to resist. Also, I love the fact that I can buy Nutella really, really cheap here. A confession, Spain: Lauren and I have a shelf that we’ve designated as the “chocolate” shelf. Don’t tell anyone!

Spain – you are pretty amazing. Sorry for the times I get upset with you. I’m still adjusting, but I think really, you and I will be just fine.

Besos,

Cat