It's pretty remarkable how immediate the transition was from an urban to a rural landscape. There really isn't much of a suburbia here at all. One minute we were in heavy city traffic, and the next, we were on a four-lane highway through the plains. We drove through a tunnel underneath a mountain range, and passed a lot of fields. Every once in awhile, we would see a town in the distance, an island of clay-tiled roofs in a sea of grass. We got to Salamanca in the afternoon, and spent most of the evening setting up the house. We got the T.V. working, put together the curtains, and went grocery shopping. At night, Mamá, Teresa, and I took the bus to Plaza Mayor [the city center, and one of the most beautiful in Spain]. We walked a bit, ate at Burger King, and then hurried home, as it was beginning to rain.
Thursday, or jueves, we went to Plaza Mayor again, and from there went to see the cathedral. It was quite the sight, everyone packed into the church to see the statues for Holy Week. We walked about the cathedral, dodging tourists and beggars, and then walked toward the University. La Universidad de Salamanca is the oldest in Spain, and has some of the best programs for international students. Situated next to the cathedral, la Universidad is a beautiful piece of architecture. The ornate façade over one of the entrances adds a defining element to Salamanca culture: la rana [the frog]. Over the entrance, there lie hundreds of miniature sculptures. From angels to astronauts, it's got it all. The goal is to find the frog [it's on the right, up a few meters, perched on top of a skull]. Said to bring good luck, la rana is unofficially the mascot of Salamanca, and every store has some kind of t-shirt or mug with a frog design. After walking around the tourist trap that surrounds the university, we took the bus back home and had lunch. I kind of like having a big, sit-down lunch; it brings the family together a bit more, plus it gives you more energy for the rest of the day. After lunch, we went to La Fuente de San Esteban.
This tiny town, 30 minutes southwest of Salamanca, is one of the coolest places I've ever been. There's not much to see: a church, a few streets filled with houses and a half dozen bars, but It's so interesting. The town of around 800 people is centered around a tiny fountain [more like a faucet] in the middle of a square with a church and 2 bars. We visited some family that we have there [my great grandmother's nephew's son's family], and ate some cookies and drank some Coca-Cola. Then, my cousin and I walked to the bullring with some of her friends and talked about the United States. It was getting cold, and our parents were calling us to leave, so we walked across town [a few blocks] to my relatives' house. We got in the car and drove for about 90 seconds and then got out at a restaurant for dinner [this was at about 10:00]. We sat down, and I ordered what I thought would be a medium-sized steak. I was wrong. It turned out that the restaurant backed up to a cattle farm, so they had a surplus of carne. This steak was monstrous. It was 30 ounces, and served with bread and potatoes. Luckily, the god of engorging was with me that day, and I ate everything. I even had room for dessert, natillas [custard]. After sitting in disbelief that I actually ate everything, we left and mis padres dropped me and Teresa off in La Fuente de San Esteban again. We met up with her friends from before, and hit the streets for some nightlife. Now, although this quiet town might not seem like the party zone, it absolutely is. People come from all around to party there, and the bars were crowded, people spilling into the street! We did the typical bar hopping, going door to door, drinking cerveza and playing foosball. There was even a dance club. We got picked up around 2am, and we fell asleep on the way back to Salamanca.
Friday was crazy. I was awakened by the question: "Do you want to see Portugal?" I answered "¡por supuesto! [of course!]" and we got in the car and hit the road, Jack. We passed La Fuente de San Esteban on the way, and picked up my cousin José. We got to the border of Spain and Portugal, and without any questions, we were allowed to pass on through. Almost immediately, the change was noticeable. The two countries are pretty similar, but there subtle differences. For one, Portugal is more mountainous. The architecture is a tiny bit different, but not by much. As we winded through the mountains, you could see across the valley were little towns. Just like in Spain, there was a distinct spot where a town ended and nature began, but in Portugal, the towns were situated on the sides of mountains. It looked a bit like Río de Janeiro, tiny groups of houses surrounded by dense forest. After a few hours of driving, we reached Aveiro, a coastal city in the north. We got out, and went straight to lunch. Before they took our order, we dined on complimentary breads, cheeses, and octopus. We got parrillada [similar to Brazilian barbeque], a heap of meats and sausages atop a portable charcoal grill. It was delicious, I especially liked the blood sausages and chimichurri.
After lunch, we walked on the beach. It was a nice day, although a bit chilly, and the walk felt good. We walked out onto a pier and took a bunch of photos [see above]. At the end of the pier were these giant breakers, on which someone had painted dozens of sad faces. Inconspicuously, one of them was smiling. It was interesting looking out at the Atlantic Ocean from the other side. It was weird to think that the view I was seeing was the same view that inspired some of the world's most famous explorers. We walked a bit more, and then got back into the car. We drove through more mountains, and made our way to Guarda, one of those mountain towns from before. It was colder up there, but so awesome. We walked through a plaza, and up some extremely narrow streets to see the church. We walked in, but a service was going on and the house was full. We stayed for a bit, but then the service ended so we walked around town more. From the steps of the church, you could look out and see across the valley to the other mountain towns. This place was quaint, and the whole town was almost silent. Obviously, Guarda wasn't without noise, but there was something tranquil about it; I'm not sure I have ever before, or will ever again experience anything like this.
Anyway, we eventually left Guarda and drove to a tiny castle a little closer to the border of Spain. Inside the castle walls [you could drive right through them] was a little village. I'm not sure there were even any houses here, but it was cool to see. We walked out onto the ramparts of the old castle, overlooking the moat [now just a grassy trench]. In the distance you could see the mountains, a windmill or two, and few houses. It was very windy up there, and getting dark, so we piled in the car and headed back to Spain. A few hours later, back in Salamanca, we ate a quick dinner and Teresa and I went out with her local guy friends. We met in a lounge, then almost immediately left for the [now infamous] bar, Dark's.
Ah, Dark's. A tiny bar on the south end of the city, it boasts discount chupitos [shots] every weekend. We came to drink, and drink we did. We tried everything, my favorite was el Mariachi, tequila and Tabasco, no chaser. Things went well except for one thing: upon leaving Dark's, I had realized that my wallet was missing. We checked everywhere, yet it was nowhere to be found. The next day, I woke up with a winner of a hangover, and I was pretty shaken about my missing wallet. In it, I had my ATM card, driver's license, money, and a copy of my passport. Plus I really liked that wallet. We called the bartender of Dark's to see if it had turned up, but she said that it hadn't. Disappointed, we walked across Salamanca to the Police station.
On the way, we observed one of the many processions of Semana Santa. It was oddly solemn and exciting at the same time. The whole street was shut down, and everybody watched as the costaleros carried the huge religious statues from the churches to the cathedral. Their traditional attire is a hooded robe, pointed at the tip with holes for the eyes. It looks very similar to a Klan uniform, but there's no hatred here. Behind the costaleros, local bands played traditional marches. Slow and somber, the parade moved step by step to the cathedral. It was quite the sight, although a bit unusual.
Right then, back on the quest to find my wallet. We got to the police station, and answered a bunch of questions, all the way down to how much money was on the Starbucks card I had. They printed out a police report for me to use as ID, at least until I got back to Madrid where my passport was. We gave them our information so they could call us if anything turned up, but it's unlikely they'll ever find it. At the station, I called my bank and cancelled my card, also ordering a new one. We went home and got lunch, still a bit worried about the wallet, and then we took a nap. We woke up and hung around the house awhile, before going out for the night. I wasn't in the mood for more chupitos, especially after the night before, so I wasn't going to drink much at all. We went to a bar that had all you can drink kalimotxo [wine and Coca-Cola] for 5 Euro. I had a glass of it, and although my appetite for alcohol was lacking, I really liked it. It was smooth, warming, a little sweet, and overall just enjoyable. We hung out at the bar as it filled up, sipping occasionally and laughing at Teresa's friends' attempts at speaking English. We left early and went home and went straight to bed.
The next morning, Sunday, we packed and loaded the car and headed back to Madrid. We slept on the way, and when we arrived, unloaded everything back into the flat. I emailed my parents about what had happened Friday night, and set up a time to make a call with Skype so we could talk. Talking to my family [or just talking in English for that matter] was a welcomed comfort. We caught up and I translated as my Spain family met my America family. Feeling better about things, I went with Teresa, Santi and Ricardo to walk around another park. It was more of a sports complex, there was a golf course and a fútbol match going on, but it was relaxing. There were some benches in front of a colorful fountain where we sat and talked. We then walked awhile until we got to the Metro station where Ricardo and Santi needed to be. We said goodbye to Santi, as he left for Cádiz the next morning, and he and Ricardo left, while Teresa and I walked home.
Today, I went with José to the United States Embassy, to tell them what had happened. Relatively good news: besides my already cancelled credit card, nothing that was lost is valid, including the photocopy of my passport. In twenty minutes, I had gone to the E.E.U.U. and back, and it was good to know at least that I didn't have anything left to do involving my stolen information. Today also marked the first day I went out alone in the city. I took the Metro to Sol, and walked to Plaza Mayor and went in some shops. I met the family for lunch at our restaurant, and later I went [solo] to a Western Union to pick up some money my folks wired me.
Tomorrow, I have my first meeting with all my fellow study abroad mates, as well as our placement test. I'm not too worried, I feel more than prepared to take it. As for everything that happened this weekend, I'm pretty satisfied with how things turned out. Although it would be nice to have all my stuff back, and not have to worry about identity theft for the rest of my life, it was definitely a life experience. I'm glad it happened, because I'm a better person for it. This week is the first week of classes, and I'll be getting into more of a daily rhythm. This weekend, my study abroad program is taking us to Segovia, a city just north of Madrid, and I'm excited to be going to another new place. We'll see how this week goes, and I'll post after a few days of learning. Hasta luego,
Brian
You are having way too much fun.....I am envious..
ReplyDeleteUncle Pete