This Is Home

        One of the great things about studying abroad is that not only do you have free reign to travel, but your host city provides you with a playground of opportunity, too. Don't spend too many weekends away or you'll miss the good stuff. In Spain, rather than spending a few hours in class each week and tons of outside of class time studying, you will be in class twenty hours per week for fifteen credit hours, so weekdays are easily filled up with class. If you really want to build relationships with locals and spend time with your host family, it is best to stay at home a lot of weekends, just relax and really experience your host city. Meet for intercambios (language exchanges), hit local hot spots, and take one from the tourists - see and do all the things in the guide book. It is amazing how quickly we take a familiar place for granted, so don't finish studying abroad and realize you never really got to do and see all the wonderful  things offered by your own city.
        Between Sevilla, my trip to Barcelona, and Paris for Thanksgiving weekend, I feel that I have been getting a good balance of time spent here and in other parts of the country. I was tickled to death - talking about getting back during our return trip from Barcelona (after five days), I realized with a start that I referred to Granada as home and didn't think anything of it. Maybe not "home, home" or Home with a capital H, but home, nonetheless. I guess you could say I'm rather attached - to the people and the place. Oh heavens. I know I have seven more months, but it makes me think of how hard it will be to leave here when I have to return to the United States.
         Depicted below, just some photo documentation of things that have been going on, at home in Granada.

La Catedral de Granada... I thought it looked big from the outside; you have to go in to fully appreciate its sheer, overwhelming magnificence. 

 My host mom's delicate little ofrenda to her parents, in our kitchen on Día de Todos los Santos, also known as All Soul's Day. In Spain, this commemoration of deceased loved ones is much more solemn than Mexico's Día de Los Muertos. Encarna and Pepe spent most of the weekend driving to the cemetery to visit and tend to the graves of family members. 

 ¡Perro encontrado! Sadly, feral and lost dogs are a far too common sight in Andalusia, but after seeing this sweet little guy nearly get run over by a car, I couldn't help myself. I was shocked when I called him and he actually came to me and covered my hands in kisses, after that I couldn't just put him back down and send him on his way. The next few days were dedicated to finding a shelter for him... which is surprisingly difficult without a place to keep him, a car, a phone, or mastery of the language - and in a country where the government and the culture have very little tolerance for animals. Without a microchip or collar or a place to keep him, I paid to put him in a shelter (one of two in and around Granada); I cried when I left him there - I hope he finds his family or a new home, and I am still in a constant process of replenishing lost dog signs, which unfortunately get religiously torn down by the street sweepers.  

Chocolate y churros; my first encounter at a local favorite, Cafe Futbol. Unlike many people might think, Spanish cuisine is nothing like Mexican, and churros constitute one of few Spanish-Mexican food crossovers. Churros here aren't like your Taco Bell cinnamon twists, either; they are just fried dough, perhaps dusted with granulated sugar, to be dipped in a mild but delicious chocolate sauce.

A parade of grocery trolleys, hitched up at the front of the supermarket. Grocery stores here are generally much smaller and less comprehensive than in the U.S., (with the exception of Cortes Ingles, a department-grocery-everything-store super hybrid much like Walmart). Unlike my mother, who grocery shops for a small army once a month, people here make fewer purchases, more frequently. Oh, and watch out for the milk. If it comes refrigerated (leche fresca), it lasts three days.

Some beautiful graffiti in a hilly, historic neighborhood, the Albaicín. One of the first things we were taught when we came to Granada? Don't go into the Albaicín at night, because it is difficult to navigate through a labyrinth in the dark, and because it's a shady side of town. Still, I've learned there is nothing quite like a view of the city after the sun has gone down from the Mirador de San Nicolás (a plaza in the heart of the Albaicín that doubles as a look out point).

My art teacher's flat, an enchanting place full of inspiration - I am absolutely in love. High water stained ceilings, a whiskery old dog, antiquated tile floors, enormous windows, an impressive selection of knickknacks and well worn art supplies, and of course his beautiful artwork. I go once a week for two hour drawing lessons. My art teacher is an independent artist from Japan, but he's lived here for 15 years. He is not only very patient with my terrible Spanish and my even more miserable drawing skills, but he kindly nurtures my eccentricities. The night I found the puppy, I called Yoshio and begged him to take the dog until I could take him to a veterinarian after my classes the next day. Then he lets me take pictures of his apartment and introduces me to a girl my age, who is learning English and interested in a language exchange. What a great guy. 

The two pieces in the lower right hand corner are works in progress by other students (wow, I feel incompetent), but everything else is his. My absolute favorite is the portrait of the woman in the upper right hand corner.

 

A charcoal drawing, and some prints of old paintings (discovered in the trash, if I understood correctly).

I tried to explain to him that his apartment is like something out of a Woody Allen movie, but I'm not sure that he understands how completely infatuated I am with his lifestyle.