La Corrida

The Stadium


Picador


Matador


Enrique Ponce (he's pretty famous in these parts)


Well, there was a bullfight (una Corrida) in my town of Linares, so Audrey, Caroline and I decided we had to go and could not miss this completely cultural experience! Well, we entered through some side door, not really sure how we did it, but we were with all the Matadors before the run! They were decked out in their traditional gear (their pants were SOOOO tight, i don't even know how they breathed!) But it really was so incredible to see them there right before they were about to go dance with the bulls.

So--I really wasn't too educated in Bullfighting--all the rules and such, but I learned a lot there. There are actually different types--the Picadores ride on horses and fight the bull mounted! This for was particularly incredible to me because the man and the horse really seemed to just move as one--the horse was so obedient to his master even afront to face of a snorting, angry bull! I was amazed! Also, I wasn't really aware that the bull actually died. I thought it was more like a game of "run away from the mad bull!" But no-- they stab it throughout the fight until it keels over. I actually cried the first few bulls because I had never seen anything like that. I honestly didn't really like the feeling too much, but it was an experience I really was glad to have--mainly for cultural sake regardless or my moral beliefs towards the sport. Also, the men don't really so much "fight" the bull... it is more like a superbly elegant dance-- I think it is more art than sport, although I am sure the man standing in front of the bull would disagree! Anyhow.. I am glad I went, and it was especially unique because it was right here in my own town at the bullring I walk past everyday. When I was there, I couldn't help but be reminded that I am indeed in Espana!

Maroc

What to even say? Where to even begin?

Well, in Spain, Easter is a really big deal, due to the overwhelming Catholic influence. The week before Easter, or Resurrection Day is called 'Semana Santa' or 'Holy 'Week' and the entire country is put on hold. There are processions everyday that parade through every street of every city. Huge ornate images of the Easter story carved in brass silver and gold are hauled through the streets, often requiring 50-80 men that could start as NFL linemen to bare the weight of the monument. The processions are accompanied by band music and incense and crowds of emotional observers weeping and screaming. In the major cities, almost all roads are closed and moving transit throughout the city becomes virtually impossible. School and many jobs are dismissed the entire week and the entire life of the town is transformed and fixated on this rich, intense cultural tradition. Well, so I hear.

The Friday before Semana Santa even began, I was on a plane from Madrid to Casablanca in Morocco, Africa. It only struck me later, that on a day designed for the remembrance of the very act that I base my entire faith upon, I left a country who dedicates a week to this event with all focus and passion to be in a country which does not even recognize, as a nation and culture, the very God I serve. But with this abandonment, I was witness to more that taught me about my faith's role in my life. It was a truly special week in so many ways, but specifically as a most unique way to remember the most generous act of mankind.

Firstly, I was traveling with 4 others--Audrey, Beth (Americanas) and then Reda and Salah, both flatmates of Beth and native Moroquis. We arrived in Casablanca, we went directly to the beach for an over-due date with a plate. We then headed for the train station to take us in to Marrakesh, a city known for its wild labyrinth of open-air markets and snake-charmers and spices. It was absolutely wild! The first day, we went to observe the markets, to set sights on our potential purchases; it was absolutely too overwhelming to even consider buying anything! At the outskirts of the market, it a huge plaza, probably close to 5 acres (I am really bad at estimates like this--could have been really from 1 to 20!) but anyhow... it was FILLED with people and snake charmers and people with monkeys in clothes and horse drawn-carriages and motorbikes trailing crates of fruit and goods as the weight balanced awkwardly over make-due trailers. It was a swarm of activity and sounds, and my memory of it now is somewhat of a hazy image, only sharpened by the still-life pictures I have to return to. Nightfall, and the shops begin to close, and as we leave the winding row of retail and emerge to the same circus-like plaza we left earlier in the day, a completely new scene awaited out arrival. The snake charmers and monkeys were all gone, only to be replaced by an open-air food court constructed temporarily for dinner each evening! Accompanied by the aroma of a thousand smells that my nose has never known are the sounds of groups of night performers gathered to share their music or stories with the world. Groups of 30-40 people would gather by soft lantern-light around a small band of hand drums and singers and sitars to enjoy the warm evening air and incredibly cultural cuisine! We walked through the now maze of food options passing eager chefs at every step throwing out assortments of languages and phrases and menus all vying for our bodies to fill the diminishing space at their tent restaurant. The aspiring linguists were oozing with charisma and witty English phrases such as "See you later alligator!", the lyrics to the famous Top Gun song, "You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin" and even an extensive and impressive vocabulary and speaking structure I would be overjoyed to witness in my English classes back in Linares! And besides this impressive display, they were similarly familiar with at least 7 other languages that I witnessed-- Dutch, French, Japanese, Arabic, Spanish, German and Italian!

The next night in Marrakesh, we went to s "Spectacular," which most similarly translates into an Arabian form of Medieval Times. It really was phenomenal! We drove about an hour out of town to the unsuspecting countryside and pulled down a seemingly insignificant road until in the faint distance emerged a brilliantly and colorfully lit Arabian-style castle! At the entrance, two rows of men with Arabian desert garb mounted on camels lined out pathway to the castle doors. Dinner was held in huge, lush tents that seated around 200 each. The tables were set with fine dinner ware indicating a minimum of 5 courses by the stack of plates and forks waiting in front of me! Dish after dish (no less than 2 feet in diameter) were set before us 5 in and in true-Arabic fashion, we all dug in with fingers and bread, with complete disregard to the more modern western customs of manners and knives and forks! We had couscous, chicken asada, a beef dish topped with vegetables, typical Moroccan soup, an incredible pastry of sweet sheets of bread and a pudding-like cheese filling, and the obligatory fruit dish with Moroccan Tea! After dinner, we rolled our stuffed selves over to the arena at the center of the castle to find seats and blankets to watch the show. There were dancers, and men doing tricks on camels and horses and fire works! It was a completely invented, but incredibly special way to really dive into the ancient traditions of this rich culture.

Well, I have to get going for now, but there is still more to come of the adventures in Rabat (the capitol) and Tetuan! Talk soon and thanks for reading! *britt

I'm still on this side...

Ronda is DREAMY!

Well, hello, Readers...

So--this past weekend we had Puente for Dia de Andalucia... a puente is a Thursday and Friday break from work (and school), so Caroline, my roommate and I decided to go to Torremolinos, which is just outside Malaga and take a day trip to Ronda.. a beautiful city about an hour inland with a breath-taking bridge and the oldest bullring in Spain. Pablo Romero, considered the father of modern bull-fighting, developed the modern rules in this arena. July-October are the bullfights, so we weren't actually able to see a fight in the ring, but we were allowed to go inside and play on the field and walk through the stands and tour the museum. The museum was extremely interesting because it housed old weapons and costumery of the torros and torreros (bulls and bullfighters), but also, it had quite and extensive rifle exhibit and a specific section on the history of the Duel (Western style duels)... there are actually codes to a duel--it is not just something that happens in old western films... I may be a little late to this news flash, but I just thought it was extremely interesting because there is even a philosophical essay on Duel Ethics from what you should wear, the terms of the revolvers, distances, shots fired, and even standing and sitting positions... it was just kind of crazy to me to realize that when someone's pride was offended, this was actually a socially acceptable way of dealing with the issue. Anyhow, we saw some pretty incredible vistas (sights) throughout the day, but maybe one of the greatest things was that I was in a tank top! It is getting warmer here and I LOVE it! It was just a nice relaxing weekend with beach, a lot of bus riding and one other thing which I must relate....

So.. Caroline and I were pretty fond of just walking up and down the sea walk in Torremolinos, and one night we walked so far, we actually ended up in the neighboring town... but it was there that we discovered AUTHENTIC TEX-MEX!!!! We decided we simply MUST eat there, so we returned the next night with fermented appetites, pre-set to some long overdue tacos and guacamole! We wanted more than just one thing, so we shared a MASSIVE mound of nachos with queso cheese, refried beans, pico, sour cream.. mmmmmmmmm.. you don't even understand- I am salivating even as I recant! Then, we also shared the Santa Fe salad with more avacado, thinly sliced chicken, a wonderful salsa dressing, pineapple, cucumber slivers, and other wonderful jewels, which I can't presently recall. Anyhow, it was WONDERFUL...!! I felt right at home... kind of an eerie feeling, actually to be getting a whole mean, a whole Texan-size and style meal, on coastal Spain!

So great weekend! Also, a group of exchange students from Christchurch, England and two of their professors came to IES Hermanos Media Revilla for an exchange program about 2 weeks ago.. We had a great time with the students and a lot of fun with the two professors, as well. The students were incredibly well-behaved and respectful, which was really so refreshing... We were able to do a few 'touristy' things with them, too, so you will see some photos from the trip here, as well... Well, thanks again for reading... we will catch up more later... love you all!


Another breath-taking view of Ronda... it really was straight out of a movie or dream or something...


The famous "Puente Viejo" (or Old Bridge) in Ronda.. there is a long path (pictures below) that you take down, down, down to get to this picturesque look-out point... it was a great place to soak up some some, take some fotos, take a rest, and eat some golsinas (treats)!


Heaven might look something like this.


Caro and I playing in the Bullring! We had the entire stadium to ourselves for almost 20 minutes--it was GREAT! Then three groups, each consisting of about 30 people, of German, French, and Dutch nationality rained in on our make-believe torro fight! too bad...


Caro caught me sunbathing on the bleachers of the stadium! We just had to soak up all the sun there was! I LOOOVE the heat!


Loving life together in the oldest bullring in Spain


Because I just had to.


Some kinda artsy ones on the path down to the Miradora Puente (Bridge Look-out)


Caro being the little Modela she is!


I was just messing around in the crag of the rock, but Caro had her camera goin' like we were on a photoshoot!

Mantequilla Vuele

Well, hello loved ones! I must say, although life has continued to be wonderful over here, it has seemed more like a normal life than ever before. I haven't done much traveling because I have plans to go to Morocco over Easter Break, and then shortly after that to Paris with a precious family that is over here, as well... so for these reasons, I am trying to buckle down a bit on the budget so I can save and live it up on these upcoming trips!

So, I am not sure if I have told you, but I am now in dance classes. Four nights a week. haha. Mondays and Wednesdays, I have Hip Hop Funky, which they pronounce just ridiculously, at 10:00 at night. Oh, Spain. Then, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have Latin dancing classes. Wellllll... I have LOVED both classes! THe HIp Hop class is just a riot because we have been learning a few foundational moves, and since hip hop, for the most, originated in the States, a lot of the moves have English names. BUT, the teacher always shows us the move and then gives us the name, which sounds Spanish. Until she writes the word down. The realize that what she is saying is actually "the Paula Abdul" or the "MJ" (for Michael Jackson) or the "Butterfly," which she literally translated for the class as: "butter" (as in what you put on toast) and then "fly" like a flight on an airplane! haha, so instead of "mariposa" the Spanish word for Butterfly, she told the class it was the "mantequilla vuele"! Caroline my American roommate, thankfully, is also in the class, so I have someone to share a good laugh with!

And then there is Latin dancing. In our class, it should be noted that there is a bit of a surplus of women. The surplus tends to be little rotund shrinking Spanish women. Seriously some of them come up to my mid-abdomen! Anyhow, as many old women are world-wide, they are quite salty! When our teacher tells us to get in pairs, they are get ticked because none of them want to be men, so they blatantly refuse, and leave any of the younger (more sensible) girls in the class to step in the role of the male. So, for the first few weeks of the class, I was learning only the guy parts to the Merengue and Bachata, which I kind of liked because I was REALLY learning the passes well, but there came a point where I just wanted to spin and be the girl! So, one week I walk in to class and there is another young, somewhat attractive, certainly spunky GUY in the class. ALL of the women were eyeing him--you seriously would have thought he was a big slice of chocolate cake and they were all 6-year olds at a birthday party who realized only one person was going to get to eat the cake! It was too funny. Anyhow... class is about to begin, and my professor calls us to step into pairs. There was a RUSH to the new guy, and the teacher calls out, "Jaime, vente. Baile con Brittney." Translate, "Jaime, get over here. You are dancing with Brittney." Immediately, I felt the sea of hopeful old Spanish eyes switch from the chocolate cake to ME in despairing envy! And I was flushed with embarrassment, because although I was excited to be a girl from now on, I was content being a guy, and letting the other old women practice with him. And then the teacher leaned over to me with a proud grin and said, "Brittney, look. I found you a partner!" He wanted us to practice together and remain partners through the rest of the classes...

So, it has been great being partners with Jaime. He is hilarious and the little goof of the class. All the Spanish women just love him. He also is a really good dancer, but is a bit cocky, and the teacher knows it, so he is extra hard on him! It is funny because throughout the class, even if he is on the complete opposite side of the room you will hear the teacher shout out, "Jaime, NO! Chica THEN Chico" signifying that he should have turned me first and then him, or whatever else he could have possibly done wrong! But my little dance partner is a riot and I am thankful I get to practice the girl parts now!

And last dance story. So, towards the end of class last week, the teacher stops the music and tells us that we will now learn something super fun. He gave it a name I didn't quite recognize and began searching for the correct music, when on comes Alan Jackson and Chatahoochy! He had said that we would be learning COUNTRY! The irony of this struck me immediately. Here I am, a native Texas, in Spain taking a LATIN dance class, and I will be "learning" to country line dance to Alan Jackson's 1995 hit Chatahoochy! I picked up the pass fairly quickly (being very familiar with the steps and sequencing, no credit is due to me), but no one else could quite catch on to how you know which way to turn! Everyone was in a bit of amazement to how I could learn it so quickly, even after my several attempts to explain I was from Texas, and learned to line dance in 2nd grade to the Boot-Scootin Boogie! Anyways, it is really funny because our teacher is completely insistent that at ALL times we have our thumbs tucked in our belt buckle in "True country form"... if we ever drop our hands, as a native Texan would realize is completely acceptable, he will shout out "Cinturon, cinturon!" which means, "Belt Buckle, Belt Buckle!" It's a hoot.

So, dance has added a completely new and wonderful aspect to my life here! I haven't missed a class yet; I really do love it, and it is so wonderful to have the time at age 23 to be able to take dance classes every night of the week! Well, here are some pitures (sorry, not of dance class, or my partner-- I will work on that) but of some fun times recently.... Enjoy and thanks again for reading! love you all!


Caroline, Auds, and I


Auds and I out on the town


Sandrine (the French girl) and I


Caroline-my oh-so-precious rommate....! (Her parents own a coffee shop and she designed this shirt--it then became their uniform! haha)


A view of Jaen from the Castle


Another look-out from Jaen... I don't get to see this view too often because I am normally down there in the city


I actually maybe am in love with him! haha... he is one of our favourite camereros here in town!

And the outpour of self-portraits presented in this post is specifically for Mer...
Love you all, talk later... *britt

Dispatches from the East Side (which is still considered West...)

Well.... today I will tell you a little tale of a cooking robot. Yes, I already know what you are probably thinking. What could a cooking robot (which doesn't even exist in our conscience of reality) have to do with Spain? Well, just hold your horses because you are about to find out. So.. Miguel Angel is my incredibly gracious, fluent, Type A to the umph degree, straight-laced boss. He is great and is really a brilliant teacher; however he is extremely meticulous and speaks very formal British English with a mezcla (mix) of a British Spaniard. He takes me to work every morning and every morning greets me with the same accent I have come to know so well, "Good morning, Brittney. How do you do today?" And I respond with the usual (and casual, "I am doing great; and how are you doing?" Normally responded to with general formalities of the previous night's events and any topics to discuss relating to classes. Well, this one morning, I was in for a lot more than the norm. I didn't even see it coming. This all ensued just before Christmas, so he was informing me of His Christmas purchases when he so boldly and proudly pronounced to me the gift he had just purchased for his wife: a cooking robot. He said this with such assurance that I should certainly know what this was, but the only image I could muster in my mind was Rosie, the maid/robot from the Jetson's. I was certain he was just kidding (which he doesn't do often, and when he does they are somewhat awkward jokes just as this where you are left quite uncertain whether you should laugh or just say, "uh huh."). As I began my "that was an awkward joke, but I know I should laugh out of respect" laugh, I realized he was not kidding. He had bought his wife a 900 euro cooking robot (which he did not hesitate informing us of the price of this most coveted kitchen commodity). So my boss has bought his wife a robot. In my mind, this does not exist. There must be something being lost in translation. But it is not so. He further explains that "this robot makes ANYTHING. You just stick the food in it, and it comes out brilliant! It can make lemonade, and paella, and smoothies. You just put the ingredients in, and it does everything!" The way he kept saying "it" kind of freaked me out a bit like this was some form of artificial intelligence. As he further explains, I get the idea that he dropped 900 euros on a fancy food processor. I just am not quite sure what to think of this! Then, the best part comes. He is not "allowed" to use the machine until he is properly trained. There is a "robot meeting" that he will be having after Christmas that I am invited to. A sales representative will be coming from Madrid to show the machine and make some "delicious" meals. The party hasn't gone down yet, but I can't wait to discover what Miguel's Magical Cooking Robot does at his Cooking Robot Party!

And here are some pictures from since I have been back---

The clan out for Chinese in Linares (Chinese food is in every country I have been to so far)


Femke, Beth, and Auds out for tapas at Casa Miguel


Auds in the Rain (check out that fully functioning umbrella!)


Caroline and Auds takin' on Linares one Red Bull Light at a time.


Salah, one of Beth's AMAZING Moroccan flatmates that is gonna take us to his home in Morocco!!


Caro and Femkita in deep discussion at Long Rock



Mari Carmen (my flatmate) that acted like she hated this photoshoot, but I know she secretly loved it!!


Making Migas ( a mashed and then grilled bread dish with peppers, garlic, olive oil, and other things) at a professor's house



More Migas--gotta work for that food!

The rain in Spain falls mainly on the Plain..

Or in Linares, but whatever... There has, however, been some sort of phenomenon that has produced rain in uncharacteristic proportions this winter--so much so--that I have been flirting with the temptation of purchasing some 5 Euro pink polka-dot rainboots... for anyone that knows me, has probably already registered the three discrepancies in the previous description.
1. Rainboots--not really my dig. I'd prefer some swamp trotting gum boots :)
2. Pink--not so much my color of choice.
3. Polka-dots.. i choose to leave those in the 50s where their claim to fame and eternal grip in the patterns of high fashion were cemented.
The only hope these boots have for ended up in my closet are the continued downpours and the mere 5 euros they cost due to rebajas (major after season sales--they are awesome!)

A little mental image for my visual learners...

But, anyhow, life is still wonderful here. I loved being home, but I have quickly settled back into life in Linares. Spanish is coming in leaps and bounds now. As I have become more familiar with the tenses, I am quickly becoming more capable of using them. I am still so far from fluent, but i am learning to communicate and express more deeply and even understand more than just the superficial layers of their language, which is so dictated by their culture. And as with almost anyone learning a language, I have some tales of misused language that i think all may be able to sympathize with and appreciate...

Here is a story just so:
So, I am becoming more confident with colloquial and casual language and I have this desire to use it to "fit in.." In America we say, "High Five.." Well, here the translation is "Chocalo", which literally means to "crash into it or collide hands"... well, I was at school, trying desperately to develop relationships with my students, conversing and joking around. I remembered the phrase I had recently learned, and in the excitement of the moment, I help up my hand and announced, "Chupalo!" with a raised chin and proud grin of accomplishment. "Chocalo"/ "Chupalo": Quite similar, right? The kid just stood there a bit confused and seemingly a little embarrassed. Well... too bad for me, this conjugation also means something: "Suck or lick it." to be precise. whoops... Welcome to my world. I, the American language teacher has just told my poor little 14-year old Spanish boy to suck my hand. yeah.. good move, i know. But, he was gracious and when I caught and corrected my error, we laughed it off together. Still through the halls when we pass one another, he and his posse will throw up their hands with giddy smiles that only 14-year old boys can produce and jokingly declare, "Maestra, chupalo, chupalo!" I get inquisitive looks from other professors sometimes, but other than that, even my shortcomings sometimes help to forge relationships that my words can not construct.

Well, I will leave you with that for now. I think I have once again sufficiently managed to draw unnecessary light to my errors, but it's a story worthy of telling and deserving of a chuckle! One last announcement before I sign off...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AUBSTER!!!!!

And a very special shot-out today to Miss Aubrey Danei Lubojasky, my fabulously gorgeous sister who was born TWENTY-ONE years ago on 19 January 1987!! I love you and wish I could be there to celebrate with you. She is seriously one of the most tender-hearted people I know and every time we talk or I am blessed to spend time with her, I feel encouraged and uplifted and valued. She is so beautiful and I am so especially thankful for her today as she celebrates the turn of another year.

Next Post-- Spain is deciding if they will be re-writing their national anthem considering Madrid is in line to host the upcoming 2012 Olympics! UPDATES on their way!! Love you all; thanks for tuning in... *britt

Cordoba

09 October 2007- 11 October 2007
Cordoba
Beth, Audrey, Sandrine, Lizzie (Sandrine's French friend), Caroline, and Me (not pictured--picturing...)


For anyone who studied art or architecture, this city probably sounds a bit familiar. This is home of the Mezquita--a roman church turned Moorish mosque then again church. The deal with it is that it was kind of a sting to Christianity when the Moorish powers violently took Cordoba, gaining a strong foothold on southern Spain. there is an overhaul of Moorish influence, easily seen in the style of the Baroque Bell tower. yet it is has been revamped and restructured and incredibly well preserved-- to presently assume more of a conducive floor plan and design for Christian practices. Cordoba was a hub for conflict between the two religions during to Reconquest just before Elizabeth and Ferdinand and there is really so much history embedded in the story of the Mezquita. One of the most incredible things about it is that the story is actually visible in the structure of the building--you can see the clashing and merging of the two cultures.


The Baroque Bell Tower


Again...


At Night-from the other side of the river. I think Aladin lived here.


The Mezquita


Twisted Tree


A Flower in the Palace Gardens


Streets of Cordoba


Audrey in Green


Boys will be Boys


Christopher Columbus coming before Queen Elizabeth and King Ferdinand


These boots were made for walkin'... "Gramps" as I so affectionately call them, have seen their share of stompin' grounds.. they've been good to me; they deserve a shot out...


A band of boys, who for fun on the weekends, go around playing in various squares and plazas... they were really loving serenading"the ladies," they majority of whom were 14-year old starry-eyed espanolitas (little Spanish girls)

COrdoba was a great cultural center and a picturesque representation of Spanish history. Our group really didn't even do anything THAT wonderful or extravagant--as a matter of fact, Saturday night, we went out for falafel (a group favorite and requirement at least once a week) and then turned in to our hostal around 10:30... we just sat up laughing and being silly until about 3 am... just goes to show--not where you are or what you do, but really just who you are with. The more I travel, the more I am affirmed of my belief that it is not Westminster Abbey that makes London incredible, or the Collosium that you will always remember in Rome, but the people you can share those experiences with and look back one day and say, "Remember that? " And as incredible as these ancient structures and works of art are, they are stagnant and fixed, they can never REALLY interact with you. It is the connection you make with them that remains. Anyhow... the South of Spain is wonderful.... I still have pictures of Thanksgiving to put up, so be on the lookout--it was very special, so stay tuned! THanks again for reading! Love you all... In the dust...

You think you're ready for this?

And here it is....

Okay... so.. it has been a while. I have done a lot. I will "paraphrase" the past month or so, to use the term loosely. I will try to get a bunch of pictures on here to, since you know what They say, "a picture's worth...." Yeah, you got it.

Primero (First):
31 October - 4 November
Halloween in Madrid and Birthday in Rome!!

Halloween is a funny thing here. They don't REALLY celebrate it, but it is kinda pickin' up speed and has become a bit of a "trendy" holiday for the young in "in" crowd; however, there is no creativity in the apparel! There are ONLY the scream costumes (ghosts, draculas, frankensteins, dead people, etc.) Needless to say, my giant orange pumpkin from last year may not have been so well received in the swanky Madridian night spots. So I forwent my rebellious spirit of being a giant Whoopie Cushion and just wore black (duh) and a pink wig instead. Yes, I said pink. I bought if for 2 Euros, so leave me alone. All night I received broken references to that movie Closer. Apparently Natalie Portman wears a pink wig. I remember it now, of course. Too late... and i have no pictures. Sorry, first time in pink in 6 years, and no proof. love it. Anyhow, it ended up being a fun, LONG night... the next morning Kara and I flew out for ROOOOOME!!!!!

Roma.. wow.. everything I could have allowed myself to expect and more. It is a phenomenal city. And I was with some incredible chicas. Kara and I met up, our first night there with a girl, Becca, from ACU studying in Barcelona, I believe. Then, the next day, Erin (from London trip) and Carla Burger (hailing from the Marsielle-the south of France) tagged on. They also went to ACU, but are here studying, learning languages, people, the word--all Europe's got to offer! THey were AMAZING laid back travel partners. It really was a blast! It's kinda cool because the four of us (Kara, me,, Carla, and Erin) all knew each other in the States, but really never "hung out" together that much. But here, this experience has really brought us together and we already know bits and pieces of each other's lives from juicy info "through the grapevine"! It was just neat to take some time and look back on the year... 4 November 2006, I could have NEVER predicted I would be in Rome, living in Spain with these three girls! It was an amazing birthday, and definitely one for the books. On the timeline of life, there are all those tic marks and bolded phrases and even some in italics... this year would be in 22 font (compared to the rest in 12), bolded, BOOKMAN OLD STYLE all caps and underlined! It was a good year. Shoot--I think I may even make the tic mark extend a little longer than the rest. So here are pictures of this monumental trip! :)

I have so many, wish I could put them all, just can't...

Roma!


Pretty Horses


Where's Waldo? You guessed it. He's not at the Trevi Fountain!


Seriously--I am going to find a group of Asian tourists one day that speaks English (or maybe Spainsh :) ) and ask them what they do that grants them extended holiday time all throughout the year? It is amazing to me... any country, any day... good lives...


Trevi at night.. don't miss out on this. It is a COMPLETLY different obra (work) at night.. outstanding...


Trevi again.. it boasts, "the most sumptuous fountain in Rome..." and it really is as incredible as everyone says...
And no--i didn't throw a coin in. I am sure enough of my return without superstition. Actually, I just forgot, but my return is nonetheless equally ensured!


Of Bikes and Men


Abandoned Rose on the Spanish Steps


Amazing.. this littl eboy had one of those awesome things (dont remember the name) but he did a complete 180 when he saw some kids playing with bubbles... Life can be so simple... it was neat...


I think I may try and live here. Looks like Candyland or something...


Pretty Food


I caught them in the act--oh the joys of walking detras (behind).. and, yes--the italians were beautiful people, and there was no problem observing this... (check out the girls' necks!)


Oh, don't mind us.. we are just walking in the middle of the street in Rome... I promise we normally observe traffic laws...


Yeah, we did... crazy cart--probably the most memorable hour of our trip... A-mazing!


I offered him 500 euros for the bike. He refused, so I then went for the car. Turns out, it wasn't his. So then I just asked for a ride on his bike. That wasn't his either. Too bad.


Pretty Rome: Everywhere you look, the view is spangled with antiquity. Phenomenal really.


This really was a blast-- a MUST for anyone who goes there...


Some friends we met from the hostal-- there are my ACU friends, too--Carla, Erin, Kara, y Yo! :)

more to come.. this is all the bloggin i have in me for meow. thanks for reading..