Thanksgiving

Living far away from close friends and family, holidays take on new meanings. They become more potent, full of memories and wistfulness. The trappings of holidays slip away, the pilgrim hats and family drama, and leave behind a solemn note of gratitude.

I am thankful for my life. I am thankful for the forgiveness of my friends and family. With so many new changes in my life I often struggle to find time or energy to keep contact with the people I love. I am thankful for the patience and understanding of my friends and family. Unsent letters, missed phone calls, droning on excitedly about my new life: sometimes I can be terribly self-absorbed. I am grateful for every one of you.

I am thankful also for the support I receive here in Spain. Melissa and her constant affirmations, Susan and her unwavering loyalty and wisdom, and all the little enthusiasms of Joseph, Anna, Olga, Ana, Alea, Emelia, Allie, Miguel, Eric and Cheryl and everyone else. I am fortunate to be surrounded by intelligent and compassionate people who love me.

I am thankful for my youth and health. Every day I see bent old men and shrinking ancient women navigating the craggy sidewalks. I cherish my strong legs and flexible spine. I should really buy better shoes.

I am thankful for the relative health of my family. My parents work very hard and I am grateful for each day of energy and productivity they offer the world. I am proud of their dedication and work ethic but also can't wait to treat them to the fun and relaxation they deserve when they visit me in Spain.

Finally, I am thankful for my self-confidence. The older I get, the more at peace with myself I become. I'm still self-critical and working towards improvement every day, but I no longer feel like I don't deserve the good things in life. We all deserve the simple pleasures of companionship, warmth, and goodwill. The adolescent feeling of inadequacy has finally banished itself from my thoughts and I am able to navigate life with much more ease. Thank goodness.

Firenze, Florencia, Florence

Florence is the city of renaissance dreams. So many beautiful works of art in such a small city; I was enraptured. The Academia museum was incredible--they were showing one of my favorite photographers, Robert Maplethorpe, alongside Michelangelo. And the David, well, nothing prepares you for the real thing. The food was good, the cappuccinos heavenly, and the people were friendly. Gracie, Italia. Oh, did I mention that I was there for an international school conference? Haha... forgot about that bit.

Oh, the Vespas. Yes, they have scooters in Spain--and lots. But Vespas? They scream Italy.

I really liked this restaurant. The waiter is arguing with the husband of one of my coworkers. Aaah, Madrileños... never peaceful.

Me and the River.

The Ponte Vecchio is a very beautiful old bridge to the other side of the river. I liked the other side of the river a little better--less touristy. The bridge itself is entirely encrusted with jewelry shops. A little overwhelming and very fascinating.

On the Ponte Vecchio there is a monument with an iron fence surrounding it. On the fence lovers attach locks with their names written on them. They throw the key into the river, symbolizing their everlasting love. Hundreds of locks adorn the fence--I thought they were abandoned bike locks. Shows how romantically minded I am...

I spent a rainy afternoon wandering around the Medicci house pretending I was one of them--the most influencial and powerful family of the Renaissance. I had also visited the Medicci chapel at San Lorenzo church. Each tomb had a real Michelangelo sculpture or two atop the sarcophogi. Intrigue, wealth, and ART. I stole these two pictures from their salon.

That's the Duomo in the distance.

I have never fallen in love with a cathedral before, but I think the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore (known commonly as the Duomo) has won my heart.

The floor of the Duomo.

Holy crap--deep fried artichoke! Soooo good. No one prepares artichoke like the Italians. The first night I had thinly sliced fresh artichoke with lemon and thin slices of parmasean as an appetizer. INCREDIBLE.

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Every MAIS conference has a Gala Dinner. A great excuse to dress up pretty and get a little funky on the dance floor. Everyone agrees that no one parties like the American School of Madrid. We scared scores of people of the dance floor--more room for us! These are two of my favorite people at ASM. Who doesn't like a man who can dance?

Rogue environmentalist.

I love street altars.

This shop fascinated me. It's called "Save the Queen" but has the skyline of NY and a fake Indian headdress. Weird.

My new friends, Leonardo and Guisseppe. Guisseppe even taught me how to pronounce his name correctly. Leonardo makes lithographs from antique plates and then hand paints the colors. Some are quite good. I stumbled upon his shop by accident and ended up staying for about an hour talking with him and his friend. They were shocked that I was so friendly--I was shocked that they understood my spanish (Guisseppe lived in Madrid for a while).

Uffizi Museum at night. Some of my favorite Renaissance art lives within its walls (Artemesia Gentileschi, Carravaggio, Michelangelo, Botticelli).

Susan and Rachel peeking out on our long climb up the dome of Basilica Santa Maria di Fiore.

Duomo dome painting. The bottom is purgatory (with flaming pits to hell that devils push the damned into), the middle is the world of men, and you get more and more angelic as you go up. The most important angels and Jesus reside at the very apex of the dome. Gorgeous and freaky. One of the best purgatories I've seen.

Falling in love with the Duomo. So beautiful. They had little walkways that circumscribe the dome at intervals so that you could view the beautiful paintings from close up. Of course, that's when my camera battery died. More pictures from Susan and Rachel's cameras later.

El Camino de la Rioja

For the Columbus Day puente I traveled to La Rioja with three friends from school. We were with a Spanish hiking tour group. This was... interesting. But in the end I rather enjoyed it. It was a little hard to take some of the disorganization and the rain was surprisingly wet, but all in all it was very refreshing to get out into nature.

The first day we hiked through vineyards from bodega to bodega. I'd never exersized and drank alcohol at the same time before--wow. Everything was so much harder than it should have been! But nothing beats eating fresh grapes and drinking wine from my favorite region in Spain.

Sigh.

We ate grapes from the vine in crisp fall air with a beautiful sky.... Lovely.

Dios mio, I love fall colors!

I believe this strange sculpture was meant to be a scarecrow.

I unknowingly ordered pigs' ears. They tasted like earwax. What can I say? They looked like they were slathered in barbeque sauce and I couldn't help myself. I consoled my guiri self with a ,70 centimos glass of wine... or three.

We did get to visit one winery. It smelled wine-y.

Nothing says "Five Stars" like condoms in your hotel kit. And I learned a new word: prophylactic. We had a good time at breakfast trying to guess which people on our trip had actually used their complimentary rubbers.

The second day we went for a much harder hike, sans vino. It was wet and cold--though not intolerable. The scenery and plants were hauntingly similar to Washington. The rain was that typical lazy drizzle we're so used to having in the foggy days of fall back home. Our fellow hikers worried about us getting wet and cold as we hadn't packed rain gear--but I only ever felt cold when we stopped for lunch. It was sweet of them to offer their ponchos and umbrellas.

We walked through pastures of sheep and horses. It was a mystery to me how the guides knew where to go, it seemed as though we were aimlessly traipsing through other people's land. In actuality, this land was a national park. Spain continues to confound me.

Wow. That thing was huge. It had friends too.

Yakshi, Kim, and Jen: a little wet but still smiling.

This was a very romantic and beautiful part of the trail. I could have daydreamed in this beautiful forest for hours.

The spooky part of the trail. At this point there was a cliff at the other side so socked in with fog that all we could see was white. I felt like I was about to walk into the fire swamp in The Princess Bride.

The last bit of our longest hike was incredibly slippery with mud and leaves. It was tedious and exhausting, but still beautiful.

On the night of the second day there was a barbeque in the backyard of someone's house in a small pueblo. The food was incredible, the company boring, and I definitely had too much to drink out of boredom. New realization: drinking more alcohol rarely makes the bar or party more fun but usually ends up with me making a fool of myself. I climbed atop a tractor, tried to break into an old church, and made friends with a stray dog--which in retrospect was the best part of the night.

On the third day we started our walk in the town of Vitoria. We rambled and wandered until we began the somewhat tedious trail to the Sideria in Lasarte. By that time I was missing home, thinking too much about the problems in my life and in the world, and I was hungover to boot. But I saved up my crankiness for when they played the music too loud on the way back to Madrid--nothing gets between me and my iPod!!

Like the rest of Europe, Pais Vasco is full of art--ancient and modern. And we all know my love of murals.

Graphitti can be hard to understand. Are they meaning "puta madre" or the real meaning of "puta"?

This was a covered escalator going up a hilly street. It rains a lot in Pais Vasco. Just like home.

Men are different here. Trust me. I struggle to understand, but do my best to appreciate.

I am fascinated by protests, political graphitti, and the ETA.

Kim is comforting me during my hangover. What a gal. Nothing like walking 10 km while regretting the whiskey from the night before.

This relief is from a church that is probably six or seven hundred years old.

Ponies!! They were so excited to see us. At that point I was too excited about the Sideria coming up in the next town to give them much attention.

Jen is a loyal, adventurous friend who loves meeting new people. Every outing with her is an adventure. Thanks Jen for suggesting this crazy trip!

Our intrepid "frat boy" guides neglected to let the Sideria know that 100 pushy Madrileños would be decending en masse. They ran out of just about everything. We flirted our way to three bottles of basque cider (while other hikers didn't get a solitary bottle) and snacked on various delicacies including cider roasted chorizo. Sometimes it pays to be polite, pretty, and female.

Basque country is beautiful and quiet, Spanish and yet a little foreign. I loved the drama and mistique of the fog and rain coupled with the brilliant fall colors. It was like walking around Lake Louise in October or hiking the trails of Mt Rainier or Mt Baker. A little taste of home.