Adios, Espana - December 23, 2011:

       My last week in Bilbao passed before I knew it; days were filled with classes, errands, final visits and goodbyes. I admired the Guggenheim, wandered through the strings of Zubizuri, and ate at my favorite bakery, all for the last time. The previous relief I had felt at the idea of going home was surprisingly overcome by sadness and a little bit of denial. But there wasn't too much time to think about it. Before I knew it, I was dragging my luggage down four flights of stairs to a waiting taxi.
         This semester abroad has been much different than I ever expected it to be. I expected to be constantly wrapped up in the adventure of it all, entrapped by exoticism and intrigue. At times, I certainly felt that - most of those times have been documented in this blog. But, more often than intrigue, there was a range of other emotions: independence, loneliness,excitement, frustration, curiosity, isolation. Stripped of the comforts of home and community, I learned so much about myself- what I value, what I need, what I love. Cervantes, that great Spanish poet, wrote that travel graces you with discretion. And based on this experience, I can only say, he is right.
        Amongst my discovering how to make a home in Bilbao, I would be amiss not to recollect the inspiring Spanish passion for life and unabashed pursuit of pleasure. It was evident right from my very first moments in Bilbao, as I dragged my suitcases through the merry fiesta-ers reveling in the streets. Soon after the fiesta, I discovered it in the many ice cream shacks that turned into churrerias as the weather turned cold. I found it in the bakeries that grace practically every corner. It was there during siesta, and with my lunch time wine, and in holiday after holiday after holiday.
        When I first arrived in Bilbao, I thought the party outside my window was solely because it was the annual fiesta. It turns out, the party in the streets was a weekly occurrence. One random Wednesday night, an accordion band began a performance almost directly below my apartment balcony. For two hours starting at 10:00pm, the band played. When I finally got out of bed to see what was going on, there was a group of 20 people doing traditional dances. The music was loudly audible in my room and I could only imagine that it was also audible in the many other apartments lining the street. Yet, no one complained and no one yelled, they just tolerantly allowed the joy to continue. I took a video (see below) because to me it was slightly absurd that no one else was annoyed because they were kept awake. But Spaniards, I've found, have this love of living that allows them to casually enjoy life and tolerantly allow others to do the same. It's a contrast that's subtle and obvious all at once. Americans, they say, do entertainment well - we can keep ourselves occupied for hours with our movies, music and video games. But after the stimulation is over, we're left wanting more to distract us, often from ourselves. Spaniards know how to enjoy pleasure. They can slow down and notice the good things in life: enjoying the holiday, taking a siesta, having a glass of wine at lunch. Throughout my time here, I've been impressed with it and I've definitely taken it to heart. So, moving forward, I hope I'll keep a little bit of Spain in my life: remembering to slow down, listen to myself, and do what feels good.

Assimilation and Appreciation with the End in Sight - December 18, 2011:

           We began our final module this past Monday. It's another intensive program, similar to the one that began my semester here. For ten days straight, we study alternative dispute resolution from 10:30am to 6:30pm. It's an interesting module, but the biggest change - for me, at least - is that all six professors for this module are American. It's precarious to explain, but there is a surprising comfort to having professors from my home country back in front of my classroom. A large part is likely the language, but there are a variety of other differences between my US educational experience and my educational experience in this program at Deusto. But besides Deusto, I've never studied outside the US, so its hard for me to know the exact cause of these struggles. Regardless, I've found these ADR classes engaging, interactive and educational. Many of my classmates have excitedly asked me if all classes in the US are like this. I've replied honestly and told them no. These classes are much more interactive than the usual standard and these professors are probably more skilled than the average American professor. However, I do find this work more similar to American law school than the traditional lectures we have mostly had in this program. It's left me wondering how much of education is culturally based.

           Among the hecticness of the marathon of another intensive program, we have officially started our countdown to departure. In less than a week, I'll be back in the States, in Las Vegas celebrating Christmas with my brother, sister in law and brand new niece. As could have been predicted, everything seems much lovelier now that I'm leaving so soon. Multiple times I've found myself saying Why didn't I find this place until now?? But I think it's a combined result of the relief of returning home, and the fact that after four months here, I'm finally accustomed enough to actually feel like Bilbao is home. In fact, there many things I've been saying or feeling lately that make me think Whoa... maybe I've been here too long. For example, the other day a dime fell out of my purse and I immediately thought ohhhh, how cute!!! A dime! ... Similarly, Jessica and I were talking about 1 and 2 euro coins, and how when we are home, it will be nice to know that your change isn't really worth a whole lot. Jess said to me "Yeah, I mean, if you have 8 coins in the States, the most you could really have is $4, where as here you could have 16 euros." ... "Jess," I gently replied, "with 8 coins in the states, you could really only have $2." Jess had forgotten the value of a quarter.

More examples of this assimilation include:

-When I bump into someone on the street, I feel no need to apologize.

-When I look at other people's clothes, I can recognize this winter's and this past fall's Desigual and Zara pieces.

-I was actually slightly offended when a Mexican friend who works at the cupcake shop Jess and I frequent used the "ustedes" form to refer to us.

-The other day, when speaking English, I pointed out the "lights blue" rather than the "blue lights".

-The thought of seeing signs in one language seems boring.

-I'm totally comfortable not tipping.

-When I make rice, I add olive oil.

And two more illustrated in picture format:

This tall latte from the Starbucks in Barcelona seemed HUGE to me. I could only finish 1/3 of it.

I'm totally comfortable drinking before noon

Leaving definitely brings a whole mix of feelings. There are many things here I will honestly miss. But, ultimately, I'm really happy that soon I will be in San Francisco with my family and friends, where I can spend that dime rather than admire it's cuteness.

Guapissima Sevilla - Saturday, December 10, 2011:

              Sevilla is the stereotypical Spanish town. It's palm trees and orange trees and flamenco and charming neighborhoods and castanets and Christopher Columbus and Catholicism and royal palaces all wrapped up into one. The vegetation actually reminded me a bit of Hawaii, which was surprising considering Sevilla is inland and much further north than Hawaii. It was a charming little town, full of students, bicycles and history. Sevilla, I learned, was once the richest city in the world; it was from here Christopher Columbus set sail to "discover" America. A few years later, the thousands of ships importing goods from the Americas  were legally required to stop in Sevilla, unload and pay taxes on the goods. Thus, in it's heyday, Sevilla was quite a place. It was famous worldwide and became the setting for the operas "Carmen", "The Wedding of Figaro" and of course "The Barber of Seville". While there I visited the stunning Real Alcazar, the royal palace built in a Muslim-Christian style, and the Cathedral of St. Mary, which is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world. I also spent some time admiring the stunning Plaza de Espana, which was built as part of the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929. This international fair was essentially an apology from Spain to the South American countries it oppressed during colonization. There are also museums dedicated to Peru, Columbia, Mexico, Argentina and Uruguay, all part of Spain's apology.  It made me wonder if some day the States would apologize to Iraq - whether democracy was the new Christianity.

Plaza de Espana

Plaza de Espana

Plaza de Espana

Each province is featured in tiles around the Plaza de Espana. This is Barcelona's tile.

One of the courtyards in Real Alcazar, with the Cathedral in the background.

Another courtyard in Real Alcazar.

A ceiling in the elaborately decorated Real Alcazar.

The fountain in the gardens of the Real Alcazar.

The gardens at Real Alcazar.

Close up of various garden features at the Alcazar.

Me in the gardens of the Alcazar.

Another view of the gardens.

                  I enjoyed my time in Sevilla, but I've always been a big city girl, and after leaving Barcelona it seemed sleepy, though quaint. But this was a blessing in disguise, as I had several papers to write for school. So I spent my nights in the hostel, cooking dinner and trying to finish these assignments. I did have one funny experience at a cafe where, amidst my sightseeing, I stopped for a bite to eat. On the menu, under the "verduras" (vegetables) section, was listed "habas con huevo" - something with egg. I asked the waitress what "habas" were and in Spanish she explained to me that they were a bean that came out of a long pea pod type vegetable and that they were good. I decided to try them and ordered a cana to go with it - a small beer. My vegetable dish arrived full of pork. Of course. Why would it not have some sort of pig product in it? True to my word, I ate it anyway, but the pork overwhelmed the dish and made it taste too salty for me to truly enjoy. When I was done I tried to pay with my credit card and the host came out to tell me that they had a minimum for paying with a card. Then our conversation went like this:

Me, reaching for my wallet: No hay problema, tengo efectivo. (No problem, I have cash.) 
Him: De donde eres? (Where are you from?) 
Me: De los Estatos Unidos. (From the United States.) 
Him: Entonces, por que hablas espanol? (Then why do you speak Spanish?) 
Me, blushing and searching for the Spanish words to explain: Porque ... Estudiaba. (Because... I studied.)
Him: Vale, guapissima. (Ok, very pretty girl.)

For the rest of the day, I giggled at the encounter.

Part of the cathedral.

Traditional dresses reinvented in a storefront.

My bike rental in front of the Isabel II bridge: still my favorite mode of transport.

View of the Torre de Oro, or Tower of Gold. From here the Spaniards would collect tolls and taxes from the ships importing goods from the New World.

The Cathedral seen from across the river. The statue on top actually turns in the wind, to show sailors on the river when the wind was good.

A festively decorated statue.

I heart BCN! (aka Do I have to leave Barcelona?) – Wednesday, December 7, 2011:

           Before leaving for Spain this past summer, many people told me their opinions of the country. Unfailingly, people raved about Spain in general and the dominant opinion of Spain's biggest cities was that Madrid was industrial and rough, but Barcelona was beautiful and modern. I left Madrid loving it, so I flew into Barcelona with incredibly high expectations. It did not disappoint.

La Rambla de Sant Josep

Food stalls at Mercat de Sant Josep

More Food Stalls

Entrance to Mercat de Sant Josep

One of the many Christmas markets

More Christmas markets along the port

           I was only in Barcelona for four days - which I had been advised was sufficient - but I could have easily spent four more days or four more months. There were many beautiful sites to see, but I was happy simply wandering the streets, sitting in cafes, browsing though shops, enjoying culinary delights. I traveled to Barcelona alone, but once there I found an abundance of friendly people. With my new found appreciation for Frank Gehry's work, I sought out his fish sculpture. As I was admiring it's beauty, a man walked by and said "Do you think Barcelona is beautiful?" Oh, yes!" I replied, smiling. "Good." He smiled back and called "Enjoy!" as he walked away. Several times I was actually mistaken for a local in Barcelona. I chatted with a waitress at a cafe, and she started by asking "Do you live in Barcelona?". Later, a man at a cafe where I bought one coffee gave me a frequent buyers card so that if I bought six more there, I could get one free. I took these encounters both as a compliment to my improving Spanish and also as a signal of the diversity of the city. In Bilbao, I walk down the street and flirty men yell in heavily accented English "Helllll-oooo!" It really gets them no where, because I walk away annoyed, thinking "OK, I know I'm blonde and taller than any of you, but must you point out that I'm not from here?" But in Barcelona, I was just another local with an accent.

Gehry's Fish sculpture in the distance.

Gehry's Fish sculpture up close.

           Other than wandering and enjoying the beautiful neighborhoods of Barcelona, I also spent a lot of time admiring Gaudi's work. Antoni Gaudi was a Catalan architect who lived in the early 1900s. I've actually been a fan of his since I was a sophomore in high school and wrote a paper on his work for Spanish class. Two of the few monuments I remember from my very first trip to Spain over 11 years ago, are Parc Guell and La Sagrada Familia - both the work of Gaudi. Viewing Gaudi's work this time around was just as enjoyable and memorable as the first time. His use of nature for inspiration, colorful tiled mosaics and whimsical interpretations of space are so wondrous that almost 100 years after his death, thousands of tourists still gawk at his work daily. Gaudi was an amazing innovator, and it struck me that he likely laid the foundation for Gehry's work, which I fell in love with only a week earlier. Apparently, I'm more of an architecture fan than I thought.

Gaudi's La Pedreira

Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, Passion Facade

Inside Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, intended to mimic trees and a forest covering.

Nativity Facade, La Sagrada Familia

A House at Parc Guell, designed by Gaudi

The main entrance to Parc Guell

View of Barcelona from Parc Guell

Benches at Parc Guell

Gaudi's famous mosiac dragon at the entrance to Parc Guell

         My time in Barcelona passed quickly; too soon it was time to depart for Sevilla. Barcelona has easily won the title of my favorite European city and I left hoping my life would intersect with it again.

El Gugg - Saturday, December 3, 2011:

                Last week was our final week for this module and we had two exams on Friday. We’ve also been assigned a 25 page paper so I’ve been spending as much free time as possible attempting to finish it.  Time feels like its flying by and there’s lots to get done in a small amount of time. Next week there are holidays (ohh how I will miss Spain) and I’m taking one final trip to Barcelona and then Sevilla. But when I return only two weeks remain for my 2011 adventure semester abroad. Definitely lots to get through first …

                Realizing my days here are numbered, I finally cleared time in my schedule and went to the Guggenheim Museum. I can’t imagine an institution that has had a greater impact on a city than the Guggenheim has had on Bilbao. Historically, Bilbao was an industrial city with a convenient port; it was a gritty, hardworking middle class town, but also a center of Basque Country power. Unfortunately, in the early 80s, Bilbao’s industry was losing its profitability with globalization causing too much competition. Among other problems, the unemployment rate reached 25% and so the Basque government made the decision to renovate Bilbao from a city of industry to a city of service. Officials began to make plans to for various city services - building a subway, a new airport and a pedestrian bridge. Around the same time, the Director of the Guggenheim Foundation was looking for a site for another museum. The Basque government invited him to Bilbao, where the director discovered a former shipyard on the historically “modern” side of the river. He decided its symbolism as a bridge between the old and new was perfect. Soon the deal was settled and  after a design contest, Frank Gehry was chosen as the architect. The museum opened in 1997 and the impact of the Guggenheim on Bilbao is clearly visible to anyone who knows the story. The looming building is almost puzzling to look at, but it shimmers in the sunlight as a beacon for renovation.

View of the Guggenheim from across the River Nervion, note the spider sculpture "Maman" by Louise Bourgeois, and also Fujiko Nakaya's Fog Sculpture #08025 "F.O.G."

View looking down the river, from the bridge connecting to Deusto.

The view of the Guggenheim from the other side, including Jeff Koons' "Puppy" sculpture, which changes colors throughout the year, depending on the state of the flowers of which it is made.

              It’s difficult to imagine the “Pre-Gugg Bilbao” locals describe. But in fact, when the titanium, limestone and glass building was completed, an unexpected problem arose in keeping the shiny facade clean and a customized cleaning method had to be invented to keep the building free of industrial Bilbao’s grime. A friend who has lived here all his life told us that when he attended Deusto University in the Pre-Gugg years, he had to cross a drawbridge to get to the University buildings.  But, if there was a ship arriving with a delivery to the port where the Guggenheim now sits, the drawbridge would go up and students would have no choice but to wait, often arriving late to class. Today, Deusto’s brand new beautiful library sits proudly on the same side of the river as the Guggenheim, and the area has been transformed from construction sites, shipyards and port docks to a beautiful recreation park. Bilbao has clearly placed a new value on modern art; it abounds, especially in municipal services. Bridges, subway entrances, plazas, streetlamps, performing arts centers, even the Basque government Health Department have all been carefully designed and installed as functional modern art pieces.  Hundreds of thousands of people come to Bilbao to visit the Guggenheim each year, and for many the famous museum is the only thing they know about the city.

 

Zubizuri (Basque for "white bridge"), a pedestrian bridge designed by Santiago Calatrava.

Another view of Zubizuri.

Random street sculpture.

More random street sculpture, perhaps a play on Velázquez's "Las Meninas".

The Basque Government Public Health Building.

This street really doesn't need this many street lamps, but the design is fun.

Deusto, the newly designed bridge leading to it, and the recreation park next to the Guggenheim.

Entrance to the Metro.

Even the playgrounds get funky in Bilbao.

                I had delayed visiting the Guggenheim, first because I was waiting for cold weather and second because I never wanted to go during crowded weekends. But with my days dwindling, I prioritized it this week and was more impressed than I ever expected to be. The actual art collection is interesting. There is a beautifully playful Richard Serra installation called "A Matter of Time", a whimsical “Tulips” sculpture by Jeff Koons, and the rotating exhibit featured Brancusi. However, the true masterpiece at the Guggenheim Bilbao is not actually part of the collection; it is the building itself. I’ve never studied architecture, nor been particularly excited by it, but wandering inside Gehry’s work of art moved me. All at once the building curves, soars and sturdily endures. There appear to be a thousand moving parts all synchronized into one overall scheme. The building unfolds itself before your very eyes, with each veering corner making you wonder, how did they do that? It pulls your eye in every which direction, yet never seems distracting or unfocused. It billows and waves with each curve revealing another soothing wave of titanium or undulating limestone wall. In creating it, Gehry was inspired by water, ships and fish; I've always been a bit of a fish myself and perhaps that is why I connected so well with it. Regardless, the building gifted me with a feeling I’d never had before – to be truly awestruck and inspired by beautiful, innovative architecture. 


Disclaimer: photography isn't allowed in many parts of the Guggenheim, and it is such a multi-faceted building that it is hard to fully and accurately depict it. However, below are a few pictures that illustrate some of my favorite parts and hopefully portray an idea of what the building is like. 

Me in front of "Puppy." It's a big puppy.

Looking up at the entrance to the museum.

Jeff Koons' "Tulips" - note Deusto in the background.

Inside the building, looking at the glass atrium from the second floor.

Looking up from inside the atrium of the museum.

Another perspective inside the Atrium.

Side note: many thanks to Jenny Choi, Alan Delamora, and Jessica Watson for the photos on this and many other of my blogs.