¡Listo!

I didn't think I was gonna write another post until tomorrow, but then we talked in class today about the "problem" of immigration in Spain, which is actually very similar to the "problem" of immigration in the United States.

The main source of immigrants to Spain is principally Morocco, but others come from other North African countries, such as Mauritania, Senegal, Algeria, and even as far as down as Equatorial Guinea.  Lots of these immigrants will come to Spain in pateras, which are small, ramshackle boats that are only built to fit 4-35 people, depending on how big they're built, but can end up transporting anywhere from 10-100 people at a time.  Other sources of immigrants are South/Central American countries, such as Bolivia, Peru, and Argentina, and, more surprisingly, China.  (Evidently, there's some special government benefit that the Chinese get for opening stores, called chinos, and I think they have to have papers, but I'm not sure.)

Immigration laws in Spain are a lot less strict than those in the U.S., so it's a lot easier for illegal immigrants to assimilate into society, at least theoretically.  I talked with my teacher, Ángeles, about the level of xenophobia in our two countries, and we determined that they were about the same.  And additionally, she mentioned that at the heart of this immigration "problem" is economic insecurity, just like most other conflicts of interest between nations or factions or anything like that.  Which is something often overlooked because of political backlash or social discontent, etc.

Last semester, I took a Spanish class that sought to enhance speaking and writing ability in Spanish while talking about issues in today's society.  One of these was immigration of Central and South Americans to the U.S.  As part of this topic, we read an article about certain myths associated with the great influx of immigrants and their impact on society.  For this class, we read a similar article.  Some of the myths include:

• That immigrants increase the level of juvenile delinquency in Spain (out of necessity).
• That immigrants are invading Spain by force.
• That the arrival of so many immigrants makes Spain an unsafe country.
• That immigrants get benefits that Spanish citizens have to pay for even though the immigrants aren't citizens.
• That Spanish citizens emigrate legally, whereas Moroccans and Algerians and Chinese don't.
• And (possibly the worst), that immigrants take jobs away from Spanish citizens.

Si el discurso era que se necesitaba mano de obra extranjera para que el español pudiese dejar de ensuciarse las manos, ¿por qué ahora son ellos el primer objetivo a culpar cuando llega la crisis?

Really rough translation:

If the argument was always that foreign workers were needed so that the Spanish citizen didn't have to get his hands dirty [from taking inferior jobs], why is it that during this time of crisis foreigners are the first ones to be blamed?

If Spaniards (and Americans) really cared about their jobs being taken away by immigrants, they would take the jobs themselves instead of complaining about it.  That's pretty rash, but it's true, too.

Of course, there are always other factors involved, along with extenuating circumstances, but the way I see it, immigration isn't a "problem."  People should be free to move wherever they want to, as well as be free to pursue a better life.  It's a no-brainer to me.  Sure, it can't run unchecked, which is why we have immigration laws to begin with, but as of right now, there are so many more immigrants that get into our country without a problem than solely Central/South Americans.  And you know what?  They're all rich.  (Or at least, so Ángeles says.)

Anyway, couple my feelings with the myths we read about and you get a hot topic for me.  Especially because, by typical standards, I am currently an immigrant.

This time, I brought my camera.  However, it died about three quarters of the way through the visit.  Definitely better than not having it at all.

This time, we went to Itálica, a small "town" about 20 minutes north (I think) of Sevilla.  And by "town," I mean a Roman town, or at least what's left of it.  The part of Itálica that still remains consists of tons of remarkable ruins from Roman times, possibly the most notable of which is the humongous amphitheater where gladiators fought lions and each other.  Of course, I don't have any pictures of this amphitheater because we saw it last, so my camera was dead.  I do, however, have pictures of other ruins.

Itálica sits on a hill overlooking what is now several more modernized "satellite towns" of Sevilla (I put that in quotes because I don't know if they are actually associated with Sevilla at all).  So the view immediately below can actually be seen while standing next to this statue (picture also below) of the emperor Trajan (or Trajano, en español) built as a monument to him by his son, the following emperor Hadrian (or Hadriano):

One of the perks about being in Europe, other than simply being in Europe, is the ability to go to all of Europe.  I will definitely be traveling around Spain to see the entire country, or at least more than the 1% of it I have seen, but I will be planning those excursions at a later date.  What Meagan and I have done over the past few days was book (nearly) every international flight we need for our entire 5-month stay.  Here's what we've got:

• Late February: Morocco for 2 days.  Organized trip, all-inclusive: 4-star hotels, all meals, etc.  Just no souvenirs.
• Late March: Paris.  (OMG PARIS.)  Just for the weekend.
• Late April: London, Wales, and Dublin for about 6 days.  We'll fly into London, stay overnight, then head off to Wales for a couple of days, hopefully take the ferry to Dublin, stay overnight there, and then return to London for a couple more days of sightseeing and adventure before we make our way back to lovely Sevilla.
• Early May: Milan and Rome.  Couple days in each.  So freaking excited.

Today, I had a meeting with Cheryl, one of the directors or co-directors of the program (I'm not sure which), and Ángeles, my wonderful Spanish language profesora during the first few weeks of the program.  Both are wonderful, both I respect greatly.  The meeting was to discuss classes that I could take at the University of Sevilla; as part of my program, I'm required to take at least two there, and the remaining out of four at EUSA, this hybrid center for study abroad students from all countries.

Luckily, being the paranoid that I am, I had made sure that the classes I wanted would (a) have at least one other student from the program in them, and (b) were classes that were passable.  Over the course of the week, several of my fellow students had had similar meetings, wherein Ángeles told them whether or not they would survive the classes they wanted.  So I wanted to make sure I had that sorted out before going.  The other thing about our registration is that we think it's first come, first serve (and at one point it was, but then they reneged on that), but we're not sure.  The University of Sevilla only allows four students from our program per class, so the slots could fill up pretty quickly.  So it was pretty mandatory for me to make sure I had all my affairs in order before I went in.  Sure enough, everything was fine!  Nothing is set in stone yet, but they assured me that I wouldn't have a problem.  I am (hopefully) taking a class regarding the history of linguistics, and another that covers history and technique of photography.  Add that to two classes at EUSA, one of Spanish literature and the other of the EU, and I've got a pretty packed schedule.

So that was a huge relief.  However, all the work put into it was not easy.  Spain's educational system is confusing, to say the least.  And way different than in the U.S.:

From about the age of 15, you are supposed to start having ideas about what you want to do with your life.  That's a scary thought to most people in the U.S., especially those who have changed their major at the age of 18 or 19 (like me).  The reality is that deciding for Spaniards is a custom.  If you want to change halfway through, it involves taking more classes, going to school for a longer period of time, and altogether losing that time to find someone, start your own family, et cetera.  So they generally stick with it; however, when they hear about our educational system and how we're able to choose, they think we're really fortunate.  So that's definitely something I'm not going to start taking for granted.

So, once you're enrolled in a certain program, you're in it.  However, the programs of study in Spain are much, much, much more specialized (though that's about to change -- we'll get to that later).  Instead of having several survey courses, such as Literature from 1700-1900, they might have a course solely dedicated to Cervantes or Lope de Vega.  5 months on JUST Cervantes or Lope de Vega.  Granted, there are courses at UNC for that, but they're electives.  These are recommended and encouraged.  Plus, at UNC, they're like SPAN 618 or something like that, I don't know.  So though you're locked in, at least you get to delve deeply into something you're really interested in.

This presents somewhat of a problem for us study abroad students.  Being from the U.S. has gotten us used to general education and being able to take classes in whatever department we want.  And we can do that.  However, we have to choose a central facultad (or area of study) in which to put ourselves in order that we can mesh with the university system.  That's fine, too, it's not a problem, it's just different.

Otherwise, here's how the classes work.  Because it's a progressive system, wherein you build up from the very bottom with an end product in mind, each class is like a stepping stone.  This one gets you to the next one and so on and so forth.  For that reason, their exams at the ends of the courses are akin to our perpetual assignments throughout one single course, in that each exam advances you towards the big, huge final exam at the end of 5 years of study at the University.  It's kind of crazy.  So basically, I'll just be lectured and taught at for 5 months while my grade relies on one single exam at the end of the course.  AH!  It's different, but it'll be cool.

On top of that difference, the Spanish system is definitely more relaxed than our system at home.  FDOC at Carolina is mandatory, but in Sevilla, the professor doesn't necessarily show up for the first week of classes.  It depends.  Also, the room numbers listed might not be actually where the class is held, and on top of that, the number system is completely ludicrous (as in 9 could be next to 13 which could be next to 2, etc.).  We don't really know.  And what's more, if you are taking classes from different facultades, they aren't going to necessarily share the same building, so you could have to traverse the city for different classes because the University of Sevilla doesn't have a central campus.  (Luckily, I don't have that problem with my classes.)  Guess I'll just have to play it by ear!  I'm also having to take my exams early because we leave Spain before most classes have their exams.  (I don't know why they have the program structured that way.)

The other requirement we had to have for our classes was that we could only take those in the upper levels, in accordance with The Bologna Agreement (which is the anti-specialization thing I mentioned earlier).  I'm not sure why it applies to us, but needless to say, it's been causing trouble for more people than just us too.  The Bologna Agreement seeks to standardize schools across Europe in order that it would be easier for transfer students to travel about Europe to different schools and such, and so that it would be easier to get a job in certain fields because the manner in which you study is internationally recognized.  However, this means that you have to generalize classes within several universities, generalize the courses of study, and ultimately lose the specialized nature of the previous system.  Which is complete bull, in my humble opinion.  And even while the system under the Bologna Agreement would be more general, it doesn't mean that a European student can take whatever they want, like a general education system would.  They would still have to choose their course of study pretty early.  So basically, they're pigeonholed into a career in which they're not going to be as specialized anymore, but with which they could get a job more easily (that is, if jobs were available to be gotten).  When I talked with a native Spaniard girl who told me she was under the Bologna system, she said she hated it.  She didn't really get into it, and I didn't really ask.  Needless to say, public opinion is down.

Anyway.  I was lucky to get the classes I wanted, and I was lucky that the classes I wanted were approved by Ángeles and Cheryl.  Hopefully everything will work out fine!  I'm sorry that post was so long.  (There was just so much to talk about!)

Nick

(p.s. Throughout this entire post, I had been confusing my English pronouns with Spanish ones, that is to say, that I have been using the English equivalent of the Spanish pronoun I would use if I were speaking Spanish.  Example: in English, you say "take classes at EUSA."  In Spanish, you say, "tomar clases en EUSA."  And I was tempted/did write, "take classes in EUSA."  I suppose I should be annoyed, but really I'm just delighted that maybe I'm slipping into Spanish mode more and more easily.  ¡Será!)

This'll just be a post with complete random thoughts about Spain.

• I'm really working on my Spanish.  I really am.  And I think I'm getting better at speaking spontaneously, but I've had a surprising amount of English in my life while I've been here, so really, I think my Spanglish is improving the most.  Which I guess could be the first step to Spanish becoming the best that it can...?  I think it'll be fine.  Besides, I'll be here for four and a half more months.
• It's amazing to me how much more chill Spaniards are.  Even when they get visibly angry with you, it's usually the type of confrontation that they will forget about five minutes later.  For example, if you nudge a guy out of the way to go up to the bar, he will be angry at first and ramble off a couple of phrases of really angry Spanish, but then you string together some words and mutter, "Lo siento" or "Perdón" and he'll say "Me da igual," the Spanish equivalent for "it doesn't matter" and everything will be fine.  He knows you just want to get a drink and he's not gonna hold anything against you for that.  It's really interesting.  And I mean, if something does really bother them, they're going to get REALLY confrontational; at the same time, though, give it a day or two and they'll be back to normal.  I guess it could be the same in the US, but I generally think not.
• It could just be because I'm in Andalucía, which is a generally non-English speaking province (thank goodness), but I feel like a lot of Spaniards are actually really tolerant of Americans that make the effort to converse with them, even if their language and rhythm is broken.  Because a lot of them take classes in English (like my señora) and they understand how hard it would be for them to speak English in America.  So I think there's that extra level of sympathy there.  Which brings me to my next point...
• It is really difficult for Spaniards to even make the basic phonetic sounds for English sometimes.  My señora really struggles with it sometimes, to the point where she'll say a word or a phrase in English and we will have no idea what she's talking about.  And that just really emphasizes to me that English is probably one of the hardest languages to learn, because of it's crazy sentence structures, its unsystematic way for doing lots of things, and just difficult pronunciations.
• Speaking of English, I don't know why it didn't occur to me before I came, but there is SO MUCH American music here.  Top 40 blares on the radio, mi señora plays classic rock on her sound system or sometimes Frank Sinatra, and there is even some mixed into the usually foreign-sounding house mix in la discoteca.  The other night, "Pump It" came on, and threw everyone for a loop.  It's actually kind of crazy.  Also, there are movie posters everywhere of movies that were released a couple months ago in the States, but are just now debuting in Europe.  And they're all translated into Spanish.  Example, "Love and Other Drugs" = "Amor y otras drogas".  It's strange.  But then at the same time, it's not.  Because if the US is really the cultural superpower that everybody says it is, then it would extend over here.  I just didn't think about it.
• So far, I don't know that many native Spaniards.  Evidently, my señora is trying to fix this.  We apparently are going out with the kids next door tonight for a beer.  (I'll get to alcohol in a second.)  And when I say kids, I mean they are college students as well.  Hopefully, I won't appear too stupid in front of them.
• Here's the thing about alcohol here.  It's a social thing.  They serve beer at certain coffee shops.  It's normal for people to be drinking throughout the day.  Early morning is still weird, but people generally start having beer around noon.  That may seem weird, but here's the thing: here, it's not weird, nor is it really taboo.  People don't drink here to get trashed.  They drink because it's something to do while they catch up with each other.  All bets may be off at night, but people still don't even get completely trashed.  It's a really refreshing perspective on alcohol consumption that I think we should take up in the States.  The only thing is, that'll never happen in the US.
• It's amazing how much I've been able to keep in contact with people, considering I'm an ocean and six time zones apart from them.  I miss everyone, especially my family, because I don't feel like I've been able to keep in contact with them as much as some of my friends.  But I know we'll catch up soon and everything will be just fine.  I've never had any problems adjusting before, especially since we lived in the Information Age, and this hasn't really been any different.  Yet, I still miss everyone.

I'm slightly angry at myself.

Today we took a day trip to Córdoba, a city east and slightly north of Sevilla (if you can make it out on the map, it's in the yellow region, the red dot right above the last "a" in Andalucía), to visit La Mezquita, an ancient, huge, and splendorous Moorish mosque that was built and added upon during the peak of the Moorish occupation of Spain.  The Mezquita is particularly known for its arches, so if you've ever seen a picture like the one directly below, then you've seen a picture of it.

We took a bus there (it was only 2 hours away), leaving at 8,30 in the morning (...I know).  And it was cold.  And before I get my head chopped off by all the people in North Carolina reading this, let me just say: we've gotten accustomed to living at 65 degrees F every day, so going back down to a wind chill of significantly less than that was shocking and not welcome.  And it was just as cold in Córdoba, probably due to the higher elevation and, thus, colder winds.  My señora was not kidding when she told me to put on a coat this morning.

I'm getting off track.  The main reason I'm angry at myself is that, in the haste to get out of the house and down to the hotel by 8,15, I forgot my camera.  (URGH.)  So alas, I have no pictures of the beautiful city of Córdoba, or La Mezquita, or the famous arches of the latter.

On the other hand, it was still amazing.  We had some time to ourselves after the visit to La Mezquita and later the Synagogue of Malmónides, so we got to explore a little bit of the city.  Not too much, but a little bit.  And it was still just as strange and foreign as Sevilla was at first, but in a way, I felt more fully accustomed to it.  I suppose that's a good thing?

I never thought it would be easy to find things that consistently and sequentially top each other in terms of excellence, magnificence, or any other equivalent adjective.  For example, two nights ago, I was here:

So amidst all this sightseeing, we do actually have class (a shame, I know -- or as they would say in España, ¡qué lástima!).  Yesterday was the first day and it was pretty interesting!  My half of the program has one class for three weeks, from 5:30-8:15 in the evening (with a 15-minute break in between the two halves of the class), called Contemporary Spanish Society.  So far, so good: we've gone over some basic info about Spain, like the geography, political atmosphere, etc.  We were assigned homework the first time for today (otro lástima) but it wasn't too bad, just a lot of reading.  But in a way, it was cool, because within the readings are several valuable things to know about Sevilla, and the "state" of Andalucía in general.  For example, this unit is all about the Andalusian (forgive my anglicization) dialect, called el andaluz.  There are certain things, at least linguistically, that separate the Andalusians from other Spaniards, such as the dropped or changed /s/ sound in the middle of words (i.e. mismo sounds like mihmo, Dios > Dio).

The data by itself is interesting, but so is the commentary.  And I find that really valuable because the commentary and analysis is in a different language and comes from a different culture.  Granted, that doesn't necessarily mean that Spanish thinkers, professors, and intellectuals approach things differently, but it could mean that.  So, in a way, this may never have been presented to me if I hadn't had this opportunity, which is something I'm definitely not taking for granted.

So that whole introduction was to set up this great intellectual nugget I found about language that I found in one of my readings.  It's taken from an article about myths surrounding the Andalusian dialect by Pedro Carbonero, if anyone is interested:

El lenguaje humano directo y espontáneo es primariamente oral y el texto escrito es un medio sustitutivo, utilizado para reflejar las palabras, nacido para asegurar su permanencia.

Really, really rough translation:

Direct, spontaneous human language is primarily oral.  Written text acts as its substitute, used to reflect words and to ensure their permanence.

I think that's a really, interesting approach to something that pertains to everyone.  Just thought I would share it!

I've got class again today, but not tomorrow!  We're going to the Real Alcázar around 15,30 (as they write the time here), which is around 9:30 EST.  I'll be sure to take lots of pictures!

Hasta luego,

Nick

As we were switching terminals in Madrid, I mentioned that all of the travel we had undertaken and all of the sights we were seeing (even just going across the humongous airport) felt very similar to all other kinds of travel and all other kinds of sights I had seen, but it still felt a little different.  One of my compatriots in this adventure mentioned that that was the feeling she got from Europe.  Everything is similar, but just a slight bit off.

Or it can just be completely strange.  As my friend Elizabeth said coming back from dinner tonight:

On our way there, I thought I saw a dead guy being dragged out of a restaurant.

So it could be completely different.

Anyway, our travel experience was a doozy.  After having our flight from Raleigh (UGH) to Philadelphia be delayed not because of the weather, but because they couldn't get the cargo bay door open, we managed to get from Philadelphia to Madrid without a hitch.  So the scary (and surprisingly short) flight across the ocean was over and done with and we were waiting for our connecting flight to Sevilla from Madrid.  (In short, we went Raleigh > Philly > Madrid > Sevilla.)  For all intents and purposes, this was going to be easy-peezy because we had something like a 5-hr. layover in the Madrid airport, which, albeit confusing, is really, really cool.  Some pics:



Really cool, right?  At least the ceiling was.  The rest was, too.  They had this crazy gate-numbering system, and the terminal went on for at least a mile.  Or a few kilometers.  Guess I'll have to get used to that here.

But I'm off-track.  The point is: the airport was really neat, except that on top of the 5-hr. layover we already had, our 11:50 a.m. flight was first pushed back an hour and a half and then cancelled altogether.  Much scrambling ensued and we were eventually able to get on the next flight (which involved another 3 hrs. or so of waiting) and get to Sevilla in time.

The strange thing was, though, that despite the fact that most of us were really angry and agitated that the flight got cancelled -- us being extremely tired didn't help matters -- most of the Europeans that were on the same flight were comparatively chill about the whole thing.  I was looking at the departure time screens, and a few Spaniards on either side of me both kind of groaned and walked away to the Iberia Airways help desk without much more of a fuss.  In fact, they seemed almost complacent about the whole thing, which really surprised me.

But at the same time, it didn't.  Americans as a whole put a huge amount of effort into being punctual, efficient, and maintaining a high level of productivity.  Yes, I am sure that nobody wants to be stuck at an airport longer than they have to be, but there was really no reason for us to be as angry as we were about the flight cancellation.  We were always going to make it to Sevilla eventually, and since half of our program was on our flight, it's not like being late would have mattered.  Also, we found out about the cancellation relatively soon after it was posted, so we were able to beat the mad rush of people to the help desk and, as such, were able to secure tickets on the next flight out.

It all put things into perspective.  Behaviorally, these people were much the same as everything else: similar, but slightly different in the way that makes you stand back and say, "Whoa, that's something I've never noticed/thought of before."

All in all, we did make it to Sevilla.  Meagan and I survived our nerve-racking cab ride over here and we managed to be able to walk around a bit since the cab driver dropped us off about six blocks from where our hotel was.  It was cool.  And I'm really thankful we did get here.  Because, while beautiful, the Madrid runway was not as appetizing visually as, say, the Hotel Alcázar (complete with naranjos!) or the jardines right across the street.

(Y ahora voy a dormir porque no he dormido nada durante las 32 horas pasadas.)


Chao,

Nick

Still not sure if I like this layout.  Oh well.

I guess, since it's midnight, today is the first day of what could possibly be the best thing to happen to me.  In a few hours, I get on a plane and head off to start my 5-month stay in Sevilla, Spain.  Sevilla is the capital of the southern province (or rather, Autonomous Community, as they call it) of Andalucia, which takes up the majority of the southern edge of Spain.  (It's the big yellow region at the bottom, in case the print is too small to read.)

From what I hear, Sevilla is a pretty huge city, but I guess I won't know for sure till I get there, provided I do get there.  With all the ice that we've had, and all the snow up in Philly (from where my connecting flight takes off), it could be that the flight could be delayed or cancelled, both of which would be very bad since we're supposed to be in Sevilla before a certain time. Hopefully everything will work out for the better.

In the meantime, I'm only two parts away from finishing The New Spaniards, by John Hooper, which is pretty interesting, if not incredibly laborious to read.  I guess that'll be saved for the plane.

I'm sure that when I land, I will have something else to say, but I guess that's it for now for background info.  I'll try and stick to this blog as much as I can because it could be my only way of communication with anyone in the States (aside from e-mail/Skype).  Anyway, that's it for now, and I'll see you guys in a few months.

Ciao,

Nico

Here we go, guys. It's gonna be crazy.