Adam At Large Vol. 3

This post begin with a series of meandering cultural observations, followed by recounts of actual events, most likely involving myself and some combination of friends and acquaintances.

First of all, conservation of energy takes on a whole new meaning here. If you leave your room for two minutes, you have to (according to my family) turn off the light. I always thought the initial surge in power of turning on a light was equal to having it on for a couple hours, so if you're coming back soon, it's better to just leave it on, but I must have read that on the internet, which is full of nothing but lies and deceit. Remember that. Turn your back on the internet for two minutes and expect a knife somewhere between your shoulder blade and spinal cord. Anyway, like I said, energy is extremely expensive here, so you've got to turn off lights when you're not in the room.

Apparently this doesn't apply to items that require power from a wall plug, because between the gadgets I've got in my room, and the desktop computer, 40-something-inch television, and two laptops in the living room, our apartment is ready to take over if the Pentagon suddenly loses power.

Water is also at a premium, and as a result, showers have to be brief and limited to one a day. This has clashed with my standard ten-shower-a-day regimen, but somehow I've found a happy medium with my family, by restricting myself to a hard fought seven. In reality the program tells us we can take two if we take one in the morning before leaving for classes, and one in the evening provided it follows a period of strenuous physical activity. However, being the conservationist I am (of water and time), my exercise takes place in the morning, so I only need one shower.

On the subject of exercise, and in breaking with my own table of contents (observations then activities/events), el Parque Garcia Lorca is only about 3 blocks from my apartment building, and it makes for a nice place to run in the mornings. Its namesake, Federico García Lorca, was a famous Spanish poet born in Granada around the turn of the century. A bit of Spanish history here; when (now notorious, taboo, and hated) dictator Francisco Franco took power in 1936 he conducted mass killings of known liberal activists in many parts of Spain, including here in Granada. One of the most notable murders was that of Garcia Lorca.

So I normally spend an hour to an hour and a half in the park each morning, running and doing exercises. In most parts of the city, runners get a puzzled glance and shrug, but Garcia Lorca seems to be where we congregate to avoid the persecution of the masses. One of my first jogging excursions was to the Albaicin, which, as I explained in a previous journal, is the old Muslim area of the city with very steep, narrow, winding, cobblestone streets. In other words, the opposite of where one would want to run. Looking back, the gazes directed my way did not come from entrants in the 75th Annual Face Contortionist Extravaganza practicing their skill, but instead flabbergasted onlookers, startled to find someone courageous (or nutty) enough to run on such terrain. However, before I paint too brilliant a picture of my own heroics, and recount my gallant rescues of runaway baby strollers and cats in burning trees, I'll remind readers that more treacherous jogging environments do in fact exist (but most of them are littered with land mines, barbed wire, and rusty nails).

Often, when the topic turns to weather it means two people have nothing of note to discuss. Not the case here. The weather is an engaging topic, sure to solicit a torrent of disbelieving email responses and questions. Essentially, we're a couple months ahead of how things are at home in Michigan. Right now, temperatures during the day are in the 40s or (at times, and under great influence of a sun unimpeded by clouds) in the low 50s. There is no snow, but at night it can get into the low 30s. Once again, due to restrictions on power, most homes don't have central heating. The situation was the same in South America last summer, where they use space heaters to heat occupied rooms, and don't waste heat on vacant places. Another reason for the absence of heating is that most dates on the calendar bring temperatures that render a heater a more useful coffee table than temperature regulation appliance. On the subject of temperature regulation appliances (but when are we not on that subject?), the Spanish have one I find both inventive and effective. It's called a mesa camilla, and it looks like any other living room table, but… the low-draping table cloth conceals a delightful surprise! A small heater rests on a thin platform inches above the floor, and heats the space between the platform, table, and thick table cloth. When the family sits down for a meal, everyone lifts the curtain and toasts their legs under the table.

Here's a decent sketch of one:
http://www.ayto-cartagena.es/bomberos/edificios/electrica4.gif

Meal times are another big difference. Breakfast is during the morning, whenever you've got time. For me, this is around 11:30, just before I leave for class, but for most it can be any time from 8 to 10 in the morning. Lunch, which begins the daily siesta, is at 3, and dinner is late, around 9. For Americans this seems late, but in a culture where families including small children walk the streets at 1 AM and don't draw a second glance, dinner at 9 is the norm. The siesta occurs every day from roughly 3 to 5 PM, and during this time just about every shop closes so the owners can go home, pick up the kids from school, eat lunch, or simply rest for a few hours. The exception is restaurants, and a few shops that want to capitalize on the increased flow of potential customers.

Classes up to this point have been, in a word, easy. It seems as if the professors are more focused on making sure everyone understands Spanish, as opposed to providing challenging course material. My grammar class could be the exception, since it is an advanced class, and the professor is more focused than in my Islam or Spanish Art History courses. Once again, these classes are at CEGRI, the school foreign student school, and do not reflect a true Spanish secondary education. In late February, my fellow Michigan students and those in the program from Wisconsin will begin classes at the University of Granada, which should be far more difficult. UGanada is a gigantic school with about 70,000 students. From what I've been told about the teaching style, personal attention from professors is as rare as is attendance by Spanish students (both are lacking). This does not mean the University is a blow off, apparently after skipping most lectures for 4 months, Spanish students spend the final month (during which there is no class) studying for their exams. I plan to escape this fate by attending lecture, and maybe even getting to know a professor or two (if I'm lucky).

Tomorrow morning I'm headed to Madrid ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madrid ) with 6 friends. I assume we'll visit el Museo del Prado, which is a very famous museum with hundreds of famous works by famous Spanish artists including Diego Velázquez, Francisco Goya, as well as El Greco and Raphael. Also, Reina Sofia Museum holds many Picassos and Dalís, so they're both possibilities. Bull fighting doesn't start until the Spring, so that's out of the question, and the world's most popular soccer team, Real Madrid (with superstars David Beckham and Ronaldo) is out of town, so we'll have to come back to catch a game live later in the year. Anyway it should be a good time, and I'll provide pictures and more next week.

Pictures of my family and apartment are also forthcoming.

So much for the "observations followed by experiences" model, I think that was busted from the beginning.

That's it for now! Give yourself a gold star for making it to the end!

Adam