Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Pictures
Hello all, a special hello to Grandma, I know you've probably been worried but i returned safe and sound from morocco. My digestion has been on a bit of a roller coaster, but roller coasters are fun! And all in all i'm doing very well. Thanks also to any and all for the birthday wishes, if anyone see's matthew tell him I wish i was with him and I hope he's having the happiest birthday he can muster (I think this is the first birthday we haven't been together and it feels wrong). And also if anyone see's Isaac tell him he's a rat fink! He still hasn't contacted me so I can talk to him about being an uncle and that hurts my heart, but I'll probably have to cave and talk to him myself. Anywho I have a big test tomorrow as always and more work than I care to speak about so I'll make this a bit of a picture tour and write about it all soon. Promise. Grandma I love you tons and I'm sorry for being so late with the post. Talk to you all soon.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Granada
Every one who goes to granada feels the need to mention the alhambra. Specifically the nazareen palaces, which were sort of palaces for the moorish kings then kinda where emperor Carlos V stayed once or twice, then really just the place where thieves and vagabonds from the city spent there time and planned their crimes and cried when they were heartbroken and did all the things that people always have done and always will do. Only 400 people an hour are let into the nazareen palaces so theoretically, given about 16 hours of being open less than 7000 people a day are allowed to see them. Which isn´t really that much considering its one of the top five most visited palaces in the world. Its impressive. Most impressive are the fine plaster carvings that cover every wall in the complex. Mixtures of arabic writing from the Quran, the most delicate calligraphy I´ve ever seen except more important because a sixth of the world think its god speaking just for them, and geometric designs that are so well integrated into the caligraphy you can´t tell where one ends and the other begins.
Its perfunctory to discuss these palaces, they are impressive, yet as you move from one spectacularly decorated room to the next spectacularly decorated room it is difficult to keep up your excitement, you begin to feel as if it you have seen it all before, and at least for me i remember being a small child and thinking about heaven and how even something perfect would lose its splender if thats all I had and I started looking for something different, even something ugly to reground me so I could appreciate the beauty around me which was so like the beauty that was around me in the room previous.
For me, my favorite part was not the palaces. Next to the palace is a fort, its soul purpose was to fight against invading christians, who were constantly invading as Granada was the last muslim stronghold on the iberian peninsula. It was not made to be beautiful, or even kinda pretty. It is a blocky structure full of stone passagways and dank holes to hide and wait for enemies. It is where hot oil was dropped on invaders and where cannons crushed archers hidden in their turrets. It was impressive in every way that the palaces were not. We climbed to the main patio of the fort where all the towers where connected then to the top of the highest tower we could find. The torre de vista. The tower of the sight. It was a sight. Below us stretched all of granada and beyond mountains, some naked and defiant, others guarding their form with snow, giving them a look of purity that doesn´t exist outside of nature and children. I stood there and looked from one side to the next, then back, and around again hoping to ingrain it in my memory. After the ugliness of the fort this view was so much more spectacular than the palaces. It was our payoff, our reward for enduring the haphazard stones. It was the only heaven I´ve ever known, fleeting and only visible after seeing everything that heaven is not.
I´m probably writing in an even more melodramatic fashion than usual, mostly because I feel more emotionally confused than I usually do. A friend of mine at UNC was shot and killed on a street off of franklin street, our main road at UNC. Her name was Eve Carson and she was 22 years old. She laughed with her whole body if you were lucky enough to make her laugh. She started by leaning back slightly than the force of her would bring her forward, doubling her up as she laughed in a way that would make any prisoner feel free if only for a moment. She was the first person I met at UNC. She was the first person to remember my name. She wasn´t my closest friend, but she was many peoples closest friend and there is no fairness or justice or silver lining to her departure except that there is a chance that now we are hurting more than she. But I don´t understand death and dying enough to know what more to say. I hope if heaven exists it is better than I imagine it. I hate that she is gone because I selfishly don´t want to have to think about no one ever seeing her again. I don´t have any more words.
Sorry for this somber ending. As always I love you grandma and I hope that you are well. I´ll be going to morocco soon and I´ve taken every precaution I can think of to keep me safe. I have no desire to get sick or injured, I just want to see whatever I can while theres still time to see it. Everyone take care of yourselves. I love you all. I miss you all. I wish you all to smile even at innapropriate times. See you soon.
Its perfunctory to discuss these palaces, they are impressive, yet as you move from one spectacularly decorated room to the next spectacularly decorated room it is difficult to keep up your excitement, you begin to feel as if it you have seen it all before, and at least for me i remember being a small child and thinking about heaven and how even something perfect would lose its splender if thats all I had and I started looking for something different, even something ugly to reground me so I could appreciate the beauty around me which was so like the beauty that was around me in the room previous.
For me, my favorite part was not the palaces. Next to the palace is a fort, its soul purpose was to fight against invading christians, who were constantly invading as Granada was the last muslim stronghold on the iberian peninsula. It was not made to be beautiful, or even kinda pretty. It is a blocky structure full of stone passagways and dank holes to hide and wait for enemies. It is where hot oil was dropped on invaders and where cannons crushed archers hidden in their turrets. It was impressive in every way that the palaces were not. We climbed to the main patio of the fort where all the towers where connected then to the top of the highest tower we could find. The torre de vista. The tower of the sight. It was a sight. Below us stretched all of granada and beyond mountains, some naked and defiant, others guarding their form with snow, giving them a look of purity that doesn´t exist outside of nature and children. I stood there and looked from one side to the next, then back, and around again hoping to ingrain it in my memory. After the ugliness of the fort this view was so much more spectacular than the palaces. It was our payoff, our reward for enduring the haphazard stones. It was the only heaven I´ve ever known, fleeting and only visible after seeing everything that heaven is not.
I´m probably writing in an even more melodramatic fashion than usual, mostly because I feel more emotionally confused than I usually do. A friend of mine at UNC was shot and killed on a street off of franklin street, our main road at UNC. Her name was Eve Carson and she was 22 years old. She laughed with her whole body if you were lucky enough to make her laugh. She started by leaning back slightly than the force of her would bring her forward, doubling her up as she laughed in a way that would make any prisoner feel free if only for a moment. She was the first person I met at UNC. She was the first person to remember my name. She wasn´t my closest friend, but she was many peoples closest friend and there is no fairness or justice or silver lining to her departure except that there is a chance that now we are hurting more than she. But I don´t understand death and dying enough to know what more to say. I hope if heaven exists it is better than I imagine it. I hate that she is gone because I selfishly don´t want to have to think about no one ever seeing her again. I don´t have any more words.
Sorry for this somber ending. As always I love you grandma and I hope that you are well. I´ll be going to morocco soon and I´ve taken every precaution I can think of to keep me safe. I have no desire to get sick or injured, I just want to see whatever I can while theres still time to see it. Everyone take care of yourselves. I love you all. I miss you all. I wish you all to smile even at innapropriate times. See you soon.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Madrid
"!Un euro! !un eurounerouneuor!" This was the call of the street vendors as I walked through the largest flea market in all of spain, my friends had left me, choosing the comfy and significantly more expensive high speed train to return to sevilla while I had elected to take the six hour bus ride. I walked from stall to stall looking through the assorted antique spanish books and half finished coloring books for anything that might actually be worth something.
"its very nice!" said a particularly ambitious salesman with a designer coat that didn't match his pants. "yes" I said "very". "Five euros, for something so nice it is a good price" he bellowed, smiling all the time. His teeth didn't match. "I agree" I replied. "for a girl you love?" he ventured. A swing and a miss, I am currently quite single and being reminded of it isn't the way to sell me anything. My face soured as I brooded over the lack of romance in my life. His moment was slipping away, he had made the wrong move. Quickly, another tactic "for your mother?". Ah, the guilt sell. After all my mother has done for me, birthing me and clothing me and putting more money in my account if it gets to low which it will soon so heads up and sorry in advance, how could I not buy this obviously high quality...um...I didn't know what it was. Maybe an earing tied to a shoe lace? " Sorry"I said, "its fine but I don't actually know what I'm looking at and I have a rule about buying things that may or may not be a keychain wrapped in chicken wire. Adios."
Each vendor had their own knick knack to sell, some were really quite lovely, others were torn barbie heads reattached to a plastic fish. There was something for everyone I guess.
The flea market marked the end of a very relaxing trip to madrid. I went with four other very nice, very southern kids from my program and we all stayed together in a cute little apartment in madrid, very close to the center of the city. I arrived with much enthusiasm ready to make the most of my few days, but I was soon overpowered by the lackadaisical dispositions of my southern companions. We would set off in the morning with the intent of seeing three museums, a place and a show and would return to the apartment at lunch time having done only one of the things we had planned and chat about this or that until we had forgotten all the things we had already missed our opportunity to do. It sounds a bit wasteful of our time i know, but it was actually very relaxing and I did get to see a few museums before all was said and done, including the museo de reina sofia, which houses the largest collection of works of Picasso in the world and is also home to guernica, a massive ten by 18 foot masterpiece depicting the destruction of guernica with the exaggerated impartation of pain that makes picassos almost cartoonish style so moving. The whole thing is in black and white and the figures are very unrealistic, but the faces and the hands are so clearly expressive that one can fall headlong into the work, into the characters who can show the pain every one of us has known but don't have the power to convey because our faces are bound by the rules of physics.
All in all madrid was very nice, but not the most impressive city I've eve seen. It would certainly be an interesting place to study as they have more theater, dance, art, and political goings on than the rest of spain combined, but it was just a bit too new for my taste. Everything seemed a bit sterile without the spirit of history that is so characteristic of other places in spain. Still it is worth seeing, and the live version of beauty and the beast is playing there (in spanish) so if you go soon you can catch that, though I'm a big fan of the movie.
You're a joy grandma!! Thanks for the email again, I'm glad you are enjoying the blog. There actually was a lot of political unrest in madrid when we were there. A group of rioters staged a rally outside of our window and shot of fireworks into the plaza. There were riot police around and everything, though it never got too out of hand. Regardless we were all safe as can be and we are always very careful when we travel. My brother is going to have a baby, which is insane! so I will soon be and uncle and grandma will soon be a great grandma, though she's already pretty swell as she is. Otherwise all is well. I'm going to granada next weekend and after that north africa which should be amazing. I know I will get six emails telling me north africa is dangerous and I shouldn't go and if I do I BETTER be VERY careful, which I am and will continue to be. It is a trip that others have told me is really fun and not dangerous as long as you stay with your group so I will be just fine and I promise the pictures will be worth any risk. Take care all, especially you grandma, I'll be back with more soon.
"its very nice!" said a particularly ambitious salesman with a designer coat that didn't match his pants. "yes" I said "very". "Five euros, for something so nice it is a good price" he bellowed, smiling all the time. His teeth didn't match. "I agree" I replied. "for a girl you love?" he ventured. A swing and a miss, I am currently quite single and being reminded of it isn't the way to sell me anything. My face soured as I brooded over the lack of romance in my life. His moment was slipping away, he had made the wrong move. Quickly, another tactic "for your mother?". Ah, the guilt sell. After all my mother has done for me, birthing me and clothing me and putting more money in my account if it gets to low which it will soon so heads up and sorry in advance, how could I not buy this obviously high quality...um...I didn't know what it was. Maybe an earing tied to a shoe lace? " Sorry"I said, "its fine but I don't actually know what I'm looking at and I have a rule about buying things that may or may not be a keychain wrapped in chicken wire. Adios."
Each vendor had their own knick knack to sell, some were really quite lovely, others were torn barbie heads reattached to a plastic fish. There was something for everyone I guess.
The flea market marked the end of a very relaxing trip to madrid. I went with four other very nice, very southern kids from my program and we all stayed together in a cute little apartment in madrid, very close to the center of the city. I arrived with much enthusiasm ready to make the most of my few days, but I was soon overpowered by the lackadaisical dispositions of my southern companions. We would set off in the morning with the intent of seeing three museums, a place and a show and would return to the apartment at lunch time having done only one of the things we had planned and chat about this or that until we had forgotten all the things we had already missed our opportunity to do. It sounds a bit wasteful of our time i know, but it was actually very relaxing and I did get to see a few museums before all was said and done, including the museo de reina sofia, which houses the largest collection of works of Picasso in the world and is also home to guernica, a massive ten by 18 foot masterpiece depicting the destruction of guernica with the exaggerated impartation of pain that makes picassos almost cartoonish style so moving. The whole thing is in black and white and the figures are very unrealistic, but the faces and the hands are so clearly expressive that one can fall headlong into the work, into the characters who can show the pain every one of us has known but don't have the power to convey because our faces are bound by the rules of physics.
All in all madrid was very nice, but not the most impressive city I've eve seen. It would certainly be an interesting place to study as they have more theater, dance, art, and political goings on than the rest of spain combined, but it was just a bit too new for my taste. Everything seemed a bit sterile without the spirit of history that is so characteristic of other places in spain. Still it is worth seeing, and the live version of beauty and the beast is playing there (in spanish) so if you go soon you can catch that, though I'm a big fan of the movie.
You're a joy grandma!! Thanks for the email again, I'm glad you are enjoying the blog. There actually was a lot of political unrest in madrid when we were there. A group of rioters staged a rally outside of our window and shot of fireworks into the plaza. There were riot police around and everything, though it never got too out of hand. Regardless we were all safe as can be and we are always very careful when we travel. My brother is going to have a baby, which is insane! so I will soon be and uncle and grandma will soon be a great grandma, though she's already pretty swell as she is. Otherwise all is well. I'm going to granada next weekend and after that north africa which should be amazing. I know I will get six emails telling me north africa is dangerous and I shouldn't go and if I do I BETTER be VERY careful, which I am and will continue to be. It is a trip that others have told me is really fun and not dangerous as long as you stay with your group so I will be just fine and I promise the pictures will be worth any risk. Take care all, especially you grandma, I'll be back with more soon.
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