Holiday Pictures Part One: Berlin

One of the perks of living in Spain is getting to travel around Europe easily and affordably. Growing up, the idea of visiting one country in Europe seemed far fetched. Now when someone asks me, "Hey, do you want to go to Belgium in a few weeks?",  I can take the offer seriously. Europe's budget airlines (along with relaxed travel rules within the European Union) make it all possible. Let's not forget I'm living on 700 euros a month here . It's not uncommon to find flights between cities in Spain for 20 or 30 euros if you book at the right time. Flying to other countries is not usually much more (around 70 euros each way on average is what I've paid). I've never paid more than 150 euros for a flight. I see a flight that costs more than that on Ryan Air and I immediately think, "This is an outrage!".

In Spain, the schools have two whole weeks off for Winter Break. I think it has to do with filling in  the time between Christmas and the more important Reyes Magos (Three Kings Day or something like that in English) which takes place on the 6th of January. I mean you can't make the kids go back to school in between the two. But anyway, the important thing about that as it pertains to this blog is that it means two weeks for traveling.

My buddy Dave and I hammered out a 10 day, 3 country trip over a two hour Skypeathon (no money was raised unfortunately). Our final list was Berlin, Prague, and Budapest in that order.

Part 1 - Berlin  

As much as I like the place, sometimes I don't quite fit in here in Spain. It seems like in groups, Spaniards are all talking at the same time. This makes it difficult to get a word in for someone like me. And although it seems this unfortunately transfers to the classroom, it's not "rude" necessarily. It's just Spanish culture. That and outings that start late at night and end early in the morning are just some of the examples that come to mind as far as things that I don't exactly mesh with. But then again, you're not supposed to fit into another culture seamlessly. That's part of the experience.

I bring this up to say that both times I've been to Germany, I've felt like it was more my kind of place. Let's start with the people. In one episode of South Park* Jimmy awarded the Germans "Least Funny People in the World". They responded by engineering a comedic robot capable of making people laugh. Ok, well that's the stereotype. They are known for being punctual, precise, and serious. Kinda sounds like someone else I know.

*Ask my friends. 83% of my sentences begin like this. 

In Germany, there's a whole scene I just don't see that often in Spain: dimly lit bars usually full of comfortable old chairs and couches set up in small circles around a candle lit table. Some sort of cool but not poppy house music in the background. I walk into a place like this and I immediately think, "Now this seems like a place where I don't have to pretend to be having a good time." One place Dave and I went to had a back section blasting 90s hip hop with a big screen set up for Mario Kart on Super Nintendo. Just gonna let the awesomeness of that set in a sec...................ok. Now I'm sure Germany also has crappy clubs that play the same crappy music most mainstream clubs play...I'm also sure Madrid and Barcelona have their fair sure of cool spots. All I can speak to is that for the short time I've been in Germany, I've felt like there more often than not that I can go to places at night and not be wishing I wasn't there...and that has to mean something.

So even though Berlin wasn't at full strength (two of four days there were Christmas and Christmas Eve) it was still a good time. Now on to the touristy stuff.

Dave and I's hostel just happened to be located next to a part of the Berlin Wall that is still standing. Today it's covered in art with social and political messages. Here are some of my favorites.

Leaders of Communist countries greeted each other with a kiss on the lips to show their alliance cut deeper than those of Western Capitalist countries whose true allegiances were only to money and power. Right...

Love this one.

Stay Free! Great reminder.

Einstein and I.

The Eastern German government tried to say the wall was to keep others out, not keep it's own citizens in. Right....

America!

Not bad....

Here's a few more social/historical pics.

Socialist era boulevard

Reminds me of any Cold War era Bond film

Reconstruction of a typical East German apartment. It was cozy by design in order to help avoid the harsh realities of daily life.

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

 

 

Same memorial by night with the U.S. Embassy flag an European Union Flag in the distance. 

So yeah, between life under the often brutal political repression of Eastern Germany and the Holocaust there was quite a lot of heavy stuff along the way. Some of it's hard to take in but it makes some of the terrible things that happened there feel a bit more real...which is a good thing.

Now you can see why I needed three parts for this vacation. Parts two and three soon.

Update from Spain

I've once again neglected my blog. This is silly. Why? Because I like writing it and I think people enjoy reading it. One excuse is that I've actually been busy. My other excuse (or explanation rather) is that I've lacked motivation. Basically, I didn't write for a few weeks and I forgot how much I liked it. Then, two weeks turned into two months. Well anyway, here's a summary of my experience in Spain so far.

Let's start with the basics. I'm living in Valladolid, a city of about 300,000 people located about about 2.5 hours northwest of Madrid by bus. Location is one of the best things about living here. Last year it took me around five hours to get to Madrid, which if you're trying to catch a flight on a short weekend trip it can be quite a hassle. This year I can get there in a couple hours multiple times throughout the day or night. It's true that Valladolid lacks a distinctive feature when it comes to the area's physical landscape. It's not luscious and green like northwest Spain, it doesn't sit nestled against the Picos or Pyrenees, and although there is a "beach" (sand that was brought in along the river that runs through town), there is of course no sunny Mediterranean coastline. Valladolid sits atop the golden, rolling hills of the Central Plateau. For me that's just fine, but I grew up on similar terrain, so maybe I just don't know any different.

One of the most common questions Spanish people ask me is whether I like Jaén (the province in southern Spain where I was last year) or Valladolid better. It's sort of a loaded question, not because I'm afraid of offending them or that they'll be offended if I don't say Valladolid, but because the question is, well, "loaded" with cultural assumptions about northern versus southern people. Generally, northerners (especially those from Valladolid) have a reputation for being "cold", less friendly people than those from the south. When they ask they want to test (or maybe just prove correctly) their stereotypes. I inevitably disappoint them with my response because for me, this year has been a much better experience, but that has little to do with local culture. Last year I lived in a village of 2,500 people. They were, of course, very friendly, but still, it was a village of 2,500 people. This year I feel less isolated. There are just more things to do people to meet. So I tell them that for me, it's better living here, the underlying message being that I'm not basing that decision on what the local culture is like. After that, they most often dig a little deeper, curious to know how an outsider who has lived in both regions perceives what they know to be true. So we talk a little on the surface about cultural differences. I affirm some of what they believe but mostly repeat that my perspective on the subject is rather skewed because of my individual situation. Interestingly enough I rarely hear the stereotype of northerners challenged even by those who live here.

As I've been alluding to so far, I've had more things to do, been busier, etc. One of the things I've been busiest with is teaching private English classes. I teach 12 hours of private classes a week (the same amount I work for my actual job at my high school) and make roughly the same as what I make from the government. My savings took a big hit last year so working extra has been more or less a necessity. Ok, updating my wardrobe and traveling to other countries aren't exactly necessities but hey, they're things I want to do, and I couldn't afford them on my regular salary. I've also been doing loads of "intercambios" or language exchanges. Basically this entails meeting up with a Spaniard who wants to practice their English and with whom you can practice your Spanish. It's a great way for me to make sure I'm practicing every day and also a great way to meet people. There is certainly no shortage of those who want to practice either. If anything the economic crisis has increased the appetite to learn English because of the increased probability it gives one of obtaining a job while also opening up the opportunity to work outside of Spain. I put an ad on a Spanish website to do language exchanges and within a few days I had already received around 25-30 responses. At times I feel like I'm on "The Bachelor: Intercambio Edition".

Some other highlights as I wrap up. I went to Belgium a few weekends ago with my American friend, Lauren, and had a great time (pictures are on facebook). We ate lots of fries covered in mayonnaise, waffles covered in chocolate, and of course sampled the local beverages. On the 24th of December I'm flying to Berlin and meeting up with another American friend, Dave (the one I stayed with over the summer in Colorado). We'll spend four days there before heading to Prague for New Year's. After that we'll get on another bus and head to Budapest. I miss family most around the holidays but this trip looks to be a memorable one. Well thanks for reading the hodgepodge of a blog. I'll try to keep things more updated in the future. Merry Christmas to everyone!

Highlights, thoughts, and observations from week one

I'm coming up on my first full week in Spain. You know what that means (well actually you probably don't). What that means is that it's time for an update. Going to try to keep up with this thing this year.

• Work will be more challenging this year, but that's a good thing. Last year I wasn't asked to plan much outside of class. It was nice not having "homework," but I think I would have gotten more out of it had I been a larger part of the preparation. This year I can already tell the expectations will be higher. Also, I get to help out with bilingual Geography and History classes. Score.
• Apartment found! I'll be moving in on Friday at the latest as the landlord has some last minute shuffling to take of. I'll be rooming with an English guy and a Spanish girl. The place has a great feel. It's open, spacious, and well-lit. Fortunately Spanish apartments always come completely furnished so at the most I may have to buy some bed sheets. Another bonus: Heat is included in my already cheap rent. So unlike last year, I won't be using the "can I see my breath test" to decide whether to turn on my heat.
• It's nice to be in a city. Ok, so Valladolid (around 300,000 strong) isn't a major metropolitan area or anything. However, compared to my living situation last year (2,500 people), everyday here seems like a gift. I can be anonymous yet I can still run into people I know. I can walk anywhere I need to be in 25 minutes or less. There is a university which means the local "scenery" is never lacking. I can catch some of the world's best soccer teams right here in town. And the best part? I don't feel like I'll go insane if I don't get out of town on the weekend, and that alone is enough to keep me happy.

From a Café in Spain

It’s one o’clock on a sunny afternoon in northern Spain. I sit at one of the outdoor cafes that stretch around the large square of Valladolid’s plaza mayor. Three stories of balconies sit outside the evenly spaced windows that look out from the pricey apartments above. The weather is nice, probably in the low 70s. Day’s like this in many ways define what it is to be Spanish, whether in the north or the south, or in separatist Catalonia or Basque Country. Spanish people like to accent their regional and ethnic differences. But as an outsider, one sees their commonalities. Spaniards, as one tour guide once said, are street people. They like to be out. They like to have a good time. The streets will clear some around five, then around nine, finally coming back in full force starting around 11 and then going deep into the night.

But for now, it’s one in the afternoon on Saturday in a northern Spanish city. I’m drinking a Mahou beer and scarfing down a late brunch; two jamón bocadillos. Yes, in Spain you can drink a beer at one in the afternoon and not have anyone think any less of you. I figure these are opportunities you just can’t miss out on.

But it’s time to go apartment search. I’m hoping all those hours watching House Hunters International come in handy. 

My Trip to the Valladolid Foreigners Office (in reverse)

1:59 pm: An employee from the foreigners office and I are running to the closest bank so I can pay the fee for my visa extension. The bank closes at two. He thinks I'll have a better shot at getting them to do the payment if he's with me. If I don't make it in time, I will have to make the nine hour bus trip from Jaén to Valladolid again next week. My legs feel like they're on fire.

1:56 pm:  Things are wrapping up. The guy who's checking my documents and I chat informally. I learn he went to the high school I'll be teaching at next year. The man working at the desk next to us leans over and says in a sarcastic voice, "that's why he's working here." The employee I'm working with realizes I have to get to the bank before it closes. We take off.

A short time before: I arrive to the foreigners office for last time. If I don't get it right this time, I'm screwed. I sit down with a worker who seems to be a nice guy who's willing to help get this thing done no matter what. We start the document check.Things go smoothly.

20 min before: I get to the foreigners office for the second time. I've finally got all my documents in order and with time to spare. I'm thinking about how crazy this experience has been and just how glad I am to finally be done with it. I sit down with a different woman than before only to realize that I have forgotten to get a copy of my Spanish ID. I leave for the photocopy shop.

15 min before: Two hours speedwalking around the city in these jeans with a blazing sun is starting to wear on me. I finally find a place that will let me log into my email and print off my missing letter.

Nearly two hours before: "You're missing a letter," the woman behind the desk tells me. I apparently need something to prove that I completed the entirety of the the academic year before they will let me renew again. I text my director and tell him what I need.

9:30 am or so: I wake up and hit the snooze a few times thinking about how much time I have. A short time later I get up, take a shower, and get dressed. I put on a blue polo shirt and my dark, tight spanish jeans.

Highlights from England

So this week is Holy Week in Spain which allows me to do some travelling. First on my list was a mini-Painter family reunion in England with my cousin Amanda. Here are a few highlights and noteworthy observations about my weekend here in Leeds.

• Porridge is basically oatmeal, but I ate it in England, so now I can say I've eaten porridge.

• My cousin, who is from Kansas, has a little English accented 2 year old. It's cute, but quite strange.

• Southern Spain has made me into a cold weather wimp. Many English people are walking around in t-shirts or no shirts while I'm trying to find more layers to put under my jacket. Not a position I'm use to being in.

• It's a small accomplishment, but over the past few days I've noticed how much my British English vocabulary has expanded during my stay in Spain. My British English vocabulary has expanded while in Spain for two reasons. The first is that my students' textbooks use British vocabulary. The second is because I have a couple friends from the UK here in Spain. Why does it matter? You know those "who we think we are, who society thinks we are, etc.." things floating around facebook? Well, those of us young folk who travel abroad like to think of ourselves as very knowledgeable about the world and other cultures so it's a small personal victory every time we go somewhere and already know "how things work" in some form or another. Makes us feel like all globally minded and stuff.

• I've now been to York but still haven't been to New York.

• 90s shorts are "in" in England! Never again would I have thought I would have seen women walking around in shorts that nearly bordered their bellybuttons. I'm not a huge fan of the style but being hopelessly attracted to women with English accents gives them a pass. 

Who is Your Favorite Basketball Player?

The last time I had a concrete answer to that question was around 2004. When people ask me today, I literally don't know what to say. I just haven't thought about players in those terms for so long. Sure, I pick my favorites in most series. I root for certain guys to finally get that title or prove that they are dominant players. And like most fans who invest their spirits in what they're watching, I get disappointed when things don't work out the way I wanted them to. But there just hasn't been that one player I put above all the rest since that time. Maybe it's part of growing up and seeing the game and its players more analytically and critically. But maybe it's not. Favoritism (not necessarily in a negative context) surely doesn't stop at adulthood.

The last player I loved was Shaquille O'neal. I had Shaq posters, Shaq books, Shaq cards. I even had Shaq on my birthday cake. He meant the world to me as a kid. Then, in 2004, the Lakers blew it all up. Shaq and Kobe couldn't get along but made it to the '04 finals anyway. They lost to a Pistons team that had less talent but was certainly the better "team." None of it made sense. I was mad at the NBA. I was mad at pro athletes in general. But mostly, I was mad at Shaq and Kobe. I felt like I was being robbed of seeing something I loved continue only because two great players couldn't figure out how to coexist in order to keep win championships.

It was never quite the same for me after Shaq left LA. That situation made me for the first time see past the on the court love of the game most professionals have. I started seeing pro athletes more like human beings and less like superheroes. My childlike admiration for Shaq was gone, but I followed him like you can't help but follow an ex. I wanted to see the success he would have and I wanted him to have it. The magic just wasn't there anymore. He went to Miami and won another title. He remained relevant on Phoenix and Cleveland before finally landing on the Celtics. Unfortunately Boston put Shaq in a tough spot when they made him a necessity as opposed to the affordable luxury he should have been at that point in his career. He played well but got hurt as players in their upper 30s so often do. Then, Shaq retired...

Wait, Shaq retired? I'm still trying to get used to the fact that most of the college athletes I see on TV are now younger than me. But seeing my favorite childhood player retire? It was one of those small hints you first start getting even as a young adult that nothing in this world lasts forever. When you first enter the sports world as a kid (even a weird kid like me whose favorite channel was ESPN Classic) you believe that the best you see have always been the best and always will be the best. I mean, you see athletes retire, but these are only the old players that existed before you were born. Something about seeing someone you saw in their prime retire for the first time hits you a little differently, especially when it's your childhood favorite.

The reason I bring all this up now is because I saw Shaq go on on The Daily Show the other night which made me want to revisit some of the old times, the good times. So I got on the old Youtube and watched the big man go to work. I watched him tear down baskets and break backboards, the insane clips that made him seem almost physically inhuman. But that was just the appetizer. The main course consisted of a 7'l'' freak of nature leading the fast break and finishing with his head by the rim and knees chest high; a ferocious intimidator who didn't just swat opponents shots down, but swatted them up fifteen rows in the stands; a solid block of human mass that could back down any player at any time and finish right over them with a dunk that had to leave some questioning why they had even stepped on the court. For dessert, a man who was lighthearted and funloving underneath the tough guy act. A little kid in giant's body.

When I look at Shaq's career objectively, I see the success but I also see the missed opportunities. Although certainly not the final say on the matter, Bill Simmons, one of my favorite sports personalities, has Shaq fifth  behind Bill Russell (1), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (2), Wilt Chamberlain (3), and Hakeem Olajuwon (4) for the greatest centers of all time, a list well worthy of argument but one that I mostly agree with. I think most have him at four or five. It's easy to ask what if with Shaq. What if he and Kobe had learned to coexist? What if he stayed in better shape? What if he had learned how to shoot a free throw for god sakes? How many titles could he have won? How many spots on the all time list could he have climbed? We'll never know but it can be definitely be argued that he could have had much more success.

While I'd be happy to debate the ins and outs of Shaq's career anytime, for me it's not what's most important. What's most important for me is how he made me excited to go out and shoot baskets in the driveway. Every kid needs a hero. Shaquille O'neal was mine.