Sunday, June 28, 2009
We took a boat from Brindisi to Patras and then a bus up to Athens. We stopped in Corinth, at the Canal, which divides the Peloponnesian Peninsula from mainland Greece. Athenians have so far been very nice, but the other tourists get on my nerves, especially today at the Acropolis, where people were pushing each other on the stairs and generally acting inconsiderate. The Acropolis itself is really pretty, other than the herds of tourists. We also went to the New Museum of the Acropolis, which opened about a week ago. We each got in for a euro. There are exhibits for the marbles Elgin stole from Greece: here the Greeks get really upset if you call them the Elgin marbles. In fact, they are still so extremely pissed about the whole situation that they uninvited the British to the opening of the Museum, and asked if our group was British because British visitors wouldn't get the special rate.
I wrote that yesterday, and the internet at the hotel has something against Blogger so I will post it later. For now, I am riding in a train on my way to Thessaloniki, which was, before the Holocaust, a huge center of Greek Judaism. We are spending the night there and then returning to Athens. I asked the hotel reception about booking a room for my extra night, and it's pretty reasonable- in the neighborhood of 68 euro for a single. I would try to split a room with someone, but I am more than ready to sleep alone.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tomorrow.
Rome Trastevere 7:14
Rome Termini to Brindisi: 7:31-13:22
Then a ferry, The Endeavour: 18:30-12:30 the following day
Friday:
Private Bus: Patras-Athens
Today I saw the Pantheon, the synagogue in the Ghetto, the Trevi Fountain, the Fountain of the Four Rivers, the Spanish Stairs, and the Capuchin crypt, which is amazing and terrifying.
Oh and then we all had dinner as a group. And got drunk.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Rome!
Last Venice Update
While I'm on the subject, a quick word on “ghetto”: originally it was geto, but the Ashkenazi Jews who were put thee were unable to say the soft g, so it became a hard g. Geto is actually a reference to the iron foundry, where cannons were made, around which the ghetto was built. The New Ghetto is actually the oldest, but it is the New Ghetto because it was built around the new foundry. By the time the Newest Ghetto was made, the term meant “Jewish quarter”. There was once a community of about 5000 Jews in Venice, all crammed into the ghettos New, Old, and Newest, so there were a lot of gravestones in the cemetery to examine. Many of the Sephardic stones are easily recognizable, as the Sephardim indicated their former hidalgo status on their gravestones, since they could no longer display the symbols above their doors.
After the cemetery, I went to the beach and walked. Then we all had dinner back in the ghetto and celebrated a classmate's birthday with cake.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Buona sera from Venice
A canal in Amsterdam.
That said, I am not actually sure what day my flight home is on, and I am getting nervous.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Some photos.
I still want to come home, but I bought a camera today and Other Katie and I took some pictures. But before that happened, we went to the Louvre, where we saw the Mona Lisa "just to get it out of the way". I saw it and thought, "Yep, that sure is the Mona Lisa" and was thoroughly unimpressed. On the other side of the painting's wall are some Titian paintings and those are frankly more exciting.
A quick recap of the last few days and then pictures:
Wednesday was a day off, so I went to the Musée D'Orsay and spent many hours there. I looked at almost everything, including a bunch of Renoir, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Lautrec, Manet, and Monet.
Yesterday my whole group went to hear the Paris Orchestra play some modern classical music. It was very strange and very experiential and I liked hearing a song start and then sound as if it was actually exploding. Afterwards, many of us went to the Eiffel Tower to see it light up. I forgot a sweater so I didn't go up it, but I had crepes, and that was all I needed.
Today I didn't go up the Tower either, because I am afraid of falling and therefore of heights. Also, I didn't want to wait in a line to spend money to be somewhere that would make me nervous, at least not without someone to hold my hand.
Before that, we went to the Louvre and had lunch in which the server basically fleeced us out of money, which was quite distressing, and then he had the audacity to tell us that tip was not included. Yes, really. We also moved out of the old hotel and into our Shiny Two Star Hotel next door. It is more expensive, but we have separate beds and they don't use smelly chemicals here; the old hotel staff used very strong chemicals in our room (for what, we aren't sure) and it was making a bunch of us nauseous and I think it is why I have been miserable in Paris.
Anyway, here are some pictures.
Jardin de Tuileries.
One time I took a nap here when I was 15. Champ de Mars.
Under the tower.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Still in Paris.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Paris
Sortie means Exit. She was reading an exit sign.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Barcelona
Monday, June 1, 2009
Hello from Sevilla. We were in Cordoba yesterday, where we made everyone hate us- there was even an epic shouting match with a French tour group over whether or not we should continue to have access to the statue of Maimonides. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maimonides) TA Josh got stuck at the Cordoba train station watching all of our bags before we all returned from the city and traveled to Sevilla. Compared to Madrid, Sevilla is Paradise. Gorgeous Muslim-influenced architecture, tiny medieval streets (taking a taxi here is both thrilling and traumatizing), and friendly people. Oh, and the food! The dinner I had last night was delicious- a huge change after the greasy food and negative service in Madrid.
While we waited for the check, my mouth and lips started to go numb and then to burn. I thought that maybe I had not applied enough chapstick and that was why. Then my face started to go red, and I thought perhaps the wine was hitting me harder than I thought. I felt my skin get hotter and hotter, and then finally I asked someone if my face was red. Sammy said, "You look like you have a sunburn!" but we hadn't been in the sun much at all that day and I always had worn sunscreen.
On our way back, I started to feel itchy and my head was pounding. I had only had a glass of sangria and a lot of water, so I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then we got to the hostel, where people started to remark on my redness. I removed my jacket and was shocked to see that my arms were red and blotchy! Drew gave me Benadryl and Sammy made me tell Maria, the TA, and Maria and Katie and I hung out in my and Katie's room to wait for the Benadryl to work. Meanwhile, my headache was worse, I was alternating between freezing and burning, and the rash was spreading. When the rash continued to spread and to get redder and redder- by this point, it covered my shoulders, my head, and my neck- Maria, Katie (who is an EMT) and I decided the hospital might be the best option. (It was more their idea than mine, since I decided it wasn't such a big deal, really. I am a moron and was nearly a casualty of my own medical machismo.) Maria and I got in a cab and went down to the hospital. Rash status: splotches on my chest and some on my lower back. Trouble breathing. I am pretty sure the Benadryl started to work when we hit the hospital, because breathing wasn't a problem again and I got really loopy.
Let me just say this: Everyone against socialized medicine tells me that it takes forever to be seen, the quality of care is lower than our standards, and that it is really a terrible idea. I left for the hospital around 11:30, arrived at 11:45, was originally considered a level 2 issue, and was quickly elevated to level 1 (I was BRIGHT red, shaking, and obviously not all right, even though I was cracking jokes and, as everyone told me this morning, "being a trooper"). Once we convinced the doctor I did NOT have a sunburn- Maria assured her I was "white as paper" two hours before- she called in another medico, and, later yet another, more senior one I decided was Spain's answer to House. They poked and prodded as per usual, but they didn't ask if I smoked or if I might be pregnant, which is standard in my ER experiences. They also touched the rash which HURT. They decided to give me an injection of cortisol and something for the itching and pain and keep me in the ER for 30 minutes. t was decided that I probably reacted to something I ate, not the dogs who live in our hostel- either the tuna, mushrooms, bread, or sangria that made up my dinner. (Benny, our professor, says "Over my dead body you will have mushrooms again!") We waited about 45 and then went back. While we waited, several other patients made a point of telling me my color was much better now and I looked a lot better. This sort of amuses me because I didn't realize they saw me when I came in and because I initially reacted poorly to the cortisol shot. It HURT, they used the biggest needle I had ever seen, and I cried, but the first doctor held my hand and soothed me in Spanish. I was trembling from panic and steroids, but it did help. After that, we caught a cab and went home, arriving around 2:30.
Do you seen what I left out here? It was totally free, since it's paid for by taxes, because Spain believes its travelers also have a right to medical care. I'll spare you the sermon. That said, since I don't pay taxes here, I am probably going to pick up some souvenir type stuff- I am not sure what else to do to repay Spain!
Today we went to the Juderia- the old Jewish quarter- and then the Catedral, one of the largest- if not THE largest- church in Europe. I will be posting poor-quality photos of those places and of Cordoba later, but for now, I am going to share my laptop.
Overdue from May 29
May 29, 2009
I still haven't gotten access to my money, because of Wachovia, but fortunately, my awesome parents got involved and transferred money to my account to tide me over till the 2nd. Tonight for dinner, we went to a restaurant/cabaret called Gula Gula. One of our TA's, Maria, tells me that "gula" is Spanish for "gluttony". The food was pretty good- we were mostly eating from the salad bar, but the real reason people go is the drag show. A few of our boys got short- unsolicited- lap dances from the performers, and after the show, argument ensued over whether or not the attractive woman tending the salad bar was biologically male or not. (She sounded female to me and to the males on the trip, but I am assured by some of the other girls that she was not.) We also got ragged for being Americans by one of the emcees, who pointed out that we '"didn't understand mierda", which was true, but we laughed and clapped at the right times, which is what matters.
Yesterday we went to Toledo. Toledo is a medieval city about 30 minutes from Madrid by bullet train going at 250 km. It's one of the oldest urban centers on the Iberian Peninsula, and there a Jewish community there for ages and ages until the pogroms in 1391 and the expulsion of the Jews and Muslims from Iberia in 1492. There are two synagogues which were both eventually turned into churches and whose architecture has Muslim influence; this same influence can also be seen at the Catedral in Toledo, which has a Mozarab chapel. Josh (one of the TA's) and I walked around the Catedral while he snuck photos, often behind me or over my shoulder. (In many European churches, there are signs that say "cameras prohibido" and employees who yell, "NO PHOTO!'") One of the stunning things about the church is that there are paintings by El Greco all over- he lived and painted in Toledo and you can visit his home, which he bought from a prominent Jewish family- and the fresco on the ceiling of the sacristy has, in the place of an image of the Creator, the Hebrew characters that spell "Elohim". Pretty cool, huh?
A group of about six of us got lost in Toledo and ended up getting ice cream and taking the bus back to the train station from the residential area, which was an adventure in itself. I loved that the ice cream vendor greeted us genially in Spanish, Italian, and English: ("Bueno dias, señoras. Buongiornio, signorias. Good day, ladies.") The bus driver was less cordial, telling us to get on the bus in a rough voice and then kicking us off without telling us what was going on- we had to change buses- but at least he was looking out for us.
The day before yesterday, Katie, Leah, and I went out for dinner. We found a pizza for 10 euro and split it amongst ourselves and then split two helpings of chocolate con churro. In the Plaza del Sol, which is the dead center of Spain, about a quarter to half mile from our hotel, we saw a band of young men performing with a circle of people around them. Leah convinced one of the boys that I was Spanish and he pulled me into the circle and twirled me around for a few minutes and then asked me how I liked the music in Spanish. I told him I was estadounidense and he switched to English. Apparently they were all there from a Portuguese music school called Tuna ("not the fish"). It was a pretty cool night.
Tomorrow we are taking a walking tour of the old Jewish quarter here in Madrid as well as an exam, so I will save this to post a later date and get to work studying and working on my school journal.