Juegos de Taboo

Language is such a crazy thing.  It's that little voice in your head that you hear when you're reading.  It's the source of your expressions during conversation.  It's literally your comprehension (unless you have a way of communicating through telepathy.. but then we need to have a chat about that too.)

I have a lot of respect for people who study languages.

I certainly have a lot of respect for people who can speak a second (or multiple) language(s).

Someday I hope that to be me.  Obviously right now I'm working on Spanish.

So, language.  In my novice opinion, language is the building block for how you view and experience the world.  When it comes to expressing thoughts, it's the ordering of letters, words, and frases to communicate in idea.

When I speak Spanish, I form the sentence in English first, then translate the words and phrases into Spanish as I'm speaking.

I don't think that this is a good way to speak a language, however.  Here's why.

Sometimes, I'll begin my Spanish sentences and come to the realization:

I don't know all of the words in Spanish to complete the sentence correctly.

Then it becomes a game.

A game of Taboo.

For those who have never played a game of Taboo (which is sad if you haven't cuz it's really fun), the idea is simply this: to get your teammates to say the word at the top of the card by describing it.  Except you can't say the word itself, and as an added difficulty, there are a list of other words that you can't say either.

For example, if the word is "Apple", some things you couldn't say would be like red, fruit, sweet, pie, orange, etc.

Except for the Spanish version (the one that I play every day), there is an imaginary card.  On the top of that card is an idea I'm trying to express.  But instead, there isn't a list of words that I can't say in Spanish...

Because I don't even have the necessary vocabulary words.

Again, for example.  The word might be manzana (apple).  The words I know how to describe it are red, fruit, sweet, etc.  Problem?  Yeah, you're right.  Those words are in English.

Realization?  I can't use English because I'm in Spain.

Okay, rest easy y'all.  I know how to describe an apple in Spanish.  (And how to meet up with friends, buy clothing, order food, etc.)

It's just to say that sometimes a limited vocabulary can really hinder you (like a list of words on a card that you can't say).

And eventually, you resort to phrases like: Pues, es una bebida como una cerveza pero es hecho de uvas... or Vale, quiero comer algo como pan pero más dulce...

Possible correct answers: Wine and cake.

Sure those are silly examples.  But that's the idea.  That's how it's like Taboo.

Sometimes you get your teammate to get the right answer.  Sometimes you don't.  And sometimes you just use Google Translate.

Choices and blessings

Happy birthday to me!

February 24th.

2/24/1994

Let's just say I've written that date many times in my entire life.

But now I have 21 years, or as they say in Spanish, "Tengo veintiuno años."  In the US, the number of this birthday is super significant, obviously.  It's kinda even more significant of a milestone than your 18th.  Even though you're officially an adult at 18, it's not complete adulthood.  At least I don't think so, and here's why.

Adulthood is when a person can say, "Okay, for years my parents have been responsible for me, but now, now that I'm an adult, I'm solely responsible for me."

It's all about choices.

That includes everything, especially alcohol.  The 18th birthday is kinda like, okay, we see you being an adult and all, wanting to make your own choices and vote and stuff, but you still can't drink something as basic as a beer.

Which, okay, what weight are we putting on voting whenever it has precedence over alcohol?

Like, the fate of the country is pretty important, so you can't have a say in the matter until you're 18 (and an "adult").  But now alcohol, whoa there, better wait till you have 21 years of experience before you can choose wisely on your own for that one.

Okay, rant over.  I'm not advocating for a lower drinking age necessarily.  But I am saying that the idea of being an "adult" cannot be truly experienced until you're able to walk into a bar and choose whether or not to have water or whiskey.

Until you're able to make all of your own choices.

But anyways.  Other things.

I have a great group of friends here who decided to organize a night out to celebrate my birthday.  Yeah, of course we went to a bar but it was totally awesome (and expensive).  Why?

Cuz it was on top of a four-story building overlooking the cathedral at night.  So cool.

And just being able to hang out with all of my friends here is so fun.  It's interesting how we all come from very different locations in the world, but we have a great time doing the same things.  I love it.

I'm totally blessed.

El Alcázar

A very fundamental fact about Spain's history is that for hundreds of years, the Iberian peninsula (where Spain is located today) was occupied by Arabs.  With the Arabs came breathtaking architecture and beautiful buildings.

Introducing: El Alcázar de Sevilla

The structure has a huge, thick castle-like wall that spans for quite a while.  Originally, it was built for heavy defenses against the aggressive people groups that occupied Europe at the time.  There is a mosque as well, which boasts beautiful arches and architecture that can only be described as incredible.  The time, work, and energy put into such a building is just mind-blowing.

Because not only is it big and has pretty arches and supports, but the walls have twisty zig-zag symmetrical stone patterns.  All throughout.  Everywhere.

There are also these tranquil little fountains and pools-- some inside and some out.

And how about the huge golden dome that was used to exemplify the heavens,

With many green and blue tiled walls that have been preserved for years?

Oh, and how could I forget to mention the enormous garden that now exists within the castle walls?

The idea of being in someone else's shoes is completely relevant in this city, especially in these places of history that have stood for hundreds and hundreds of years.  What people of greatness have tread the same tiles that you are standing now?  What nobles and kings have graced its immense halls?

Like the expanse of the universe, or a plane ride over a huge ocean, history has a profound power to make us feel small.

Entrad por Sus puertas con acción de gracias, Por Sus atrios con alabanza

Psalms 100:4

The verse that sums up what I thinking while in this place of worship.

Sevilla is proud to be the home of La Catedral de Santa María de la Sede.

Originally, construction of the cathedral began in the 1400s.  It's the largest Gothic church, and third largest church in the world.  Christopher Columbus is buried beneath the floor.  La Giralda, a huge bell tower with 25 bells, has been standing long before the sanctuary, and it was originally designed to mirror the Koutoubia Mosque in Morrocco.  It fits right in with the grandeur.  And as for the sanctuary, people have this saying as the motivation behind its construction: "Hagamos una Iglesia tan hermosa y tan grandiosa que los que la vieren labrada nos tengan por locos."

Let us build a church so beautiful and grand that those that see it finished will think we are mad.

I'm unsure about the madness part, but grand and beautiful?  Absolutely.

It's difficult for me to describe the sanctuary and surrounding rooms.  The initial sanctuary room is sectioned off like most cathedrals.  There are sections around the outside edges dedicated to Christ, Mary, or the saints.  There are grand windows to let in the light (a struggle for builders at the time).  Huge brass pipes for the organ are isolated in the middle of the great room, and on top, a chilling scene of angels (in their infancy) in heaven.

One of the amazing things to see is the huge wall of oro ("gold") that depicts the life of Christ from beginning, to the end, to the resurrection.  I do not have a picture of this.

Which brings me to another point.

I struggled with the idea of being a tourist and taking a picture of everything.  I'm walking through this enormous, beautiful cathedral, and I'm surrounded by people of all ages walking around with their iPhones taking pictures of (literally) everything.  There was such a focus on capturing this moment in pixels.

But to me, the cathedral was more than history.  It's an experience.  The grandeur and splendor was an attempt at a manifestation of God's glory.  (At least, I want to assume it is.)  As more churches move toward plain, boring sanctuaries, I am beginning to think we've lost or forgotten something. Isn't there something special in the concept of the holy sanctuary?

Yes, God isn't in the adorned walls.  He isn't in the stained glass.  He isn't in the sound of the 25 bells that chime on Sunday mornings.

But, having such a place to remind us of how great and big and awesome and powerful our God truly is, isn't a bad thing at all.

If you want a new way to experience God, visit a cathedral. And if you have time, come visit Sevilla's.

La plaza

One thing I love about Spanish cities:  the plaza.

It's just a defined area of tile, often with a classy title revolving around Catholicism, and in the middle is often a monument, garden, fountain, etc.

It's also a great place to people watch.  Lovers hold hands, tourists gather around maps, old men walk with dogs, kids run around, photographers taking pictures.

I love it.  It's definitely like its own little community.

Here in Sevilla is a huge plaza, duly called "The Plaza de España".  Very big.  Very prominent on the skyline, thanks to the two towers that conquer the skies.

The architecture is just staggering too.  It may not be evident from the pictures, but there is so much detail in each inch of the plaza.  Literally every inch.  The surface of the plaza is individual pebbles cemented together in various shapes and patterns.

So cool.

And so disappointing.  Hey, America, where are all of your plazas?

Spain: 1, USA: 0

La comida

Fooooood.

Yo it's freakin' good here.

And I guess it's not really that it tastes any better than food in the United States.  I mean, if you can really call what we eat "food".  But the concept of a meal has been completely redefined in my mind.  Starting with the meal times (which I previously talked about), the idea of holding off from eating lunch until 2:30pm was frightening at first (yes literally it was).  Then, the thought of eating dinner at 9:30pm just seemed absurd.

But, ya know, it works.

Food is very intentional here.  At least from what I've noticed, the concept of a meal is to actually prepare it.  For my señora, she began to prepare lunch just after breakfast today.  And I asked her why.  She told me that it is possible to have lunch without such preparation, but it's just not as good when it's just "whipped up" (okay, she didn't say that exactly).  Food is serious though.  You can make a half-hearted attempt or go all-in...

And Spaniards go all-in.

So, let's exemplify this idea with something very common at mealtime:

Soup.  Except here, soup isn't broth with some things added in for substance.  Nope.  Although there is broth and some form of liquid that Idk what to call it cuz I hate cooking, there is so much meat and potatoes and vegetables and legumes and stuff.  Like, real food.  It's a huge bowl.  It's like an entire meal submerged in broth.

Meat:  It's mean, lean, and there's a lot of it.  It's definitely a staple food here, especially jamon, which is ham.  Mariscos are popular too (but more on the coast).

Salad.  Salad is iceberg lettuce with spinach other vegetables: tomatoes, carrots, broccoli, peppers, onions, etc.  On top, no salad dressing.  Instead, olive oil, vinegar, and salt!  It takes some getting used to at first, but after awhile, it's all the flavor you need, especially with the various other flavors in the salad.

Bread.  Holy cow.  The US's concept of bread isn't even close to right.  Why?  Because the bread is real.  Bread is made by an actual baker in an actual bread store (or paneria, which also makes some kick-butt desserts too).  Simply go to the tienda, ask for whatever you need for the day, buy it, and boom you got freakishly fresh bread for lunch and dinner.

It's like, the food here is super healthy and there's few unhealthy additives.  And it tastes great too.  Oh and...

Tapas.  Probably the coolest idea for bars ever.  The idea is to have a small plate of really good appetizers to go with your cerveza when you're hanging out with friends.  Whether it's olives, jamon cerrano, or boquerones en vinagre, they're super fun and yummy.

Oh, and the desserts are amazing too.  Probably not as healthy as the rest of the food I've been raving about, but it's freaking amazing.  Just the perfect amount of sweetness and stuff.

Side note: beer costs as much as a Sprite here.

For further reading, look up croquetas.

La casa está dónde el corazon es

Home is where the heart is.

It's also an apartment above a beautiful garden where you eat and relax during your siesta (a real period of time each day from 2-4pm).

By the way, siestas are wonderful things.  The city essentially shuts down for a few hours to allow people to eat and relax during the day.  Like, who wouldn't want to work for four hours, then have a two-hour break to eat a huge lunch and then nap?  Meals are usually spread out throughout the day.  Breakfast is at 9ish.  Lunch is about 2:30pm.  Dinner is about 10pm.  And lunch is usually the largest, with three courses throughout the meal.  For me it's been a huge bowl of soup, a plateful of salad, (real) bread, and a dessert.

Solid.  That's how your stomach feels by the time you're done.  Try fighting drowsiness now.  You practically have to sleep.

I'll be uploading pictures of my room soon.  It's so cozy.  I love it.  I have oranges on my blanket.  And like I said, my window overlooks the garden.

The garden is my favorite part :D

Me encanta el jardín mucho.

Yes, home is where the heart is.  And it's also one of the best places to learn Spanish culture.  From eating a lot to watching telenovelas, it's been one of my favorite things about the experience so far.

No soy un turísto

¡Estoy en Sevilla!

Finally, after two flights and a little waiting, I am in my house with my señora Maribel, her son Fran, and another student Jennifer.

One thing I learned about Sevilla: some of the roads are very, very skinny.

And very, very random.

At the end of my taxi ride, the driver told me that he'd have to drop me off a little before my destination.  I didn't understand... until I realized that his tiny taxi would not fit down the even tinier alley that my house was located on.  So I got out after paying the driver and began to walk.

The streets surrounding my house are very old.  Imagine a tiny cobblestone alley, with walls on either side covered in different colors.  These walls are four to five stories high.  And these walls aren't really walls.  Instead, they're houses, shops, hotels, cafes, cervezarias, etc.  And people walk everywhere.  There's actually very little vehicle traffic in the streets (although when there is, be careful not to be run over!).  The "walls" do not permit you to move, especially on the skinny sidewalk.

Thanks to the intimidating structure, I got lost on the way to school today.  I was confident (too confident) that I'd find the school with no problem.  With map in hand, I ventured out to find the school.

But I got lost. Bad. Like, really bad. Like so bad, I didn't even know where I was in all of Sevilla.  So the map would make an appearance, and I'd try a direction, hoping to find a street sign (which there are seldom).  When I would find one, I would pull the map out and reevaluate my position.

Eventually I was calling my señora and asking for directions from random strangers (who were very nice by the way).

And then I found the school.  I was thirty minutes late.  Oh well!  And that was that.

One thing about being a tourist in a new place is that you learn to fold a map quickly and efficiently (and then pull it back out again).

Except, I am not a tourist.  I am a student.  I am investing in this place.  This city, with its history and inherent beauty, is becoming a part of me.  My experience is not a week-long vacation.  It's a period of learning and understanding a culture that a tourist could not understand in such a short time.

However, this just scratches the surface of my time here.  There is much more, but that's for another time.  (At least, when I have more laptop battery anyways.)

Volando arriba del Atlántico (Flying high above the Atlantic)

My back is finding out how big the Atlantic Ocean truly is. I mean, I'm pretty tall and lanky..and I don't think the engineers designed these seats for people like me. I don't mean to complain though. I have my pillow. I have my blankie. The lights are out. I'm cozy-- cozy and cramped-- but still cozy.

Within a matter of minutes of the plane being in the air, I had an awe-inspiring moment. As the plane lifted off the ground,we began to bank and turn back towards civilization.

And I saw the world from a new perspective.

There were all of these lights. Lights of buildings, houses, cars, buildings, boats, street lights, and even another airplane.

On top of it all, I saw the curve of the earth. I saw where sky met the horizon. A cloudy, but yet so transcendentally beautiful horizon.

It's now 9:20pm EST. (That makes it 3:20am in Sevilla.) We're about halfway across the ocean now. I'm leaning up against a cold plane window and listening to Coldplay. There's a faint whirr of the jets in the background. It's such a surreal moment. And outside the window, I can see puffy clouds way down below. The moon is currently illuminating everything, reflecting off the wing. There so many stars out. It's so clear up here. Serene.

And I have no WiFi. But you know what? I'm okay with that. The simplicity of this trip so far (minus the 400 passenger roaring through the sky) has been a moment I won't forget.

Making it 100% okay that I have no idea what the score of the Super Bowl is right now.