This past week weekend, Kelly and I took a trip to Spain's first "college town," Salamanca in Castilla & León. After a short bus ride from Madrid—and arriving on time for it was no given—we made it to Salamanca. I was pretty blown away at the city's beauty. Although the bus station is in the modern part of the city, once you cross the River Tormes into the old city, everything changes. Sidewalks are covered with overhanging roofs and arches. Almost every building was constructed of beautiful sandstone, giving everything an orange and sun-baked glow in the afternoon light. It looked very quintessentially Spanish. We were hungry and tried a few cafés for a bite to eat, to nearly no avail. Salamanca is very serious about its "tapas" culture—called "pinchos" there. Most cafés in the city don't serve a fixed menu but rather only do pinchos or raciones with drinks. This, although it was a fact we learned to love as the weekend went on, was frustrating when all we wanted to do was pig out!
The city was also a lot cheaper than Madrid, or basically anywhere else I've been, because of the prevalence of tapas bars. We found one bar near the historic Plaza Mayor on a side street run by a nice guy named Tony and full of regulars whom he knew by name. There, Kelly and I were able to get a glass of wine and accompanying tapas each—plus an extra porción—for under 5€... or, in other words, about the cost of a pint of beer with no tapas in Madrid. (No wonder I'm quickly running out of money!) At night, there were lively student bars that were colorfully decorated for Halloween weekend: an Anglo-Irish holiday that's just starting to catch on in Spain.
After Kelly and I settled into our hostel, we hit the town with very little idea of what we were going to do, simply hoping to take it all in. We wandered up the street from the hostel and immediately found the Monastery of San Esteban, which was a breathtaking place. The exterior was extremely ornate for all of its Baroque stone carvings covering the façade; it reminded me, to some extent, of Gaudí's architecture at the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona some 300 years later. The Spanish call that "plateresco," meaning "silver-like" for the appearance of being smooth sculpture. The interior of the church there was one of the most intricate and, honestly, excessive, things I have ever seen. But I loved it anyway.
The Catedral Nueva—and the term "nueva," meaning new, should be taken lightly as it was finished in the early 1700s—was my favorite part of the city. I will have pictures up soon, but it was a stunning neo-Gothic cathedral. The pillars in the interior of the church are very thick, and the ceiling was extremely high. It was imposing and threatening. There was beautiful stained glass and an organ mounted high up above the choir loft... I'm lost as to how one actually gets up there. All told, the cathedral in Salamanca was probably my favorite cathedral I've seen thus far in Europe (although I didn't get to linger too long in Westminster Abbey). There were other cool churches, the Casa de las Conchas (House of the Shells, ornately decorated with large seashells), and the façade of the Universidad de Salamanca—unfortunately the interior was closed due to construction. All extremely beautiful.
The crown jewel of the city is its Plaza Mayor, which is spacious and beautiful at night, filled with little boutiques and expensive restaurants on all sides. That was Kelly's and my home base for the weekend; the only way we knew how to get anywhere in the city was to leave from a certain arch in the Plaza. What struck me was the sheer number of people in and around the Plaza around dusk each night. There were great shops lining one street off the Plaza, and they were always packed, with long lines and many browsers like ourselves. (The crown jewel of our weekend was this little Mexican place we found near the Plaza—Cantina Mariachi—with a good prie fixe menu, cheap tequila and margaritas, and a willingness to make gluten-free substitutions. We ate dinner there two nights in a row, without hesitation. Good Mexican food is surprisingly hard to find in Spain. Locals have told me it's because many Mexicans emigrate not to Spain, but rather to the USA.)
Kelly and I took a bus back to Madrid on Sunday afternoon and parted ways for the next seven weeks or so, as her journey in Rome doesn't end until December 18th. We had a fantastic month traveling together, though, and I felt truly lucky that we were able to spend so much time together seeing Europe when we had initially thought we'd get to see each other maybe twice. I feel very good about our relationship, though, and I'm looking forward to another Christmas together when Kelly gets home.
Back here in Spain this week, the dawn of November has suddenly made coming home seem real and imminent. Last night, I finished my application for the Baltimore City Teaching Residence, which is an intensive summer training course in elementary/secondary education followed by placement—with full teacher's salary and benefits—in a "high-need" school in Baltimore. I am simultaneously thrilled and terrified by the idea of being offered or taking this job. But I think I'd do it if I got it. As I sincerely answered on one of the application questions, I've been in a very cushy suburban bubble all my life. An easy career path for me would be to find some sedentary, autopilot office job somewhere that pays relatively well until I really find my "calling," but I'm 22 years old! There is no other time to try new things and take chances in life. I want to do something that I'll feel truly good and satisfied about at the end of day, no matter how challenging. But I'm getting ahead of myself here—I just completed my application. We shall see what happens.
What has really gotten me into this idea has been my teaching here in Madrid, which I've really come to enjoy. Last week, I felt like I connected with my students more. I began to speak Spanish with them a bit more—to explain difficult and confusing concepts—and I feel like this has made them more engaged in the learning. I read them a home-made version of the Tipperary Hill stone throwers story a number of times, stopping after each reading to ask and field questions, write key words on the board, and explain a bit. Finally, by the third or fourth time, I not only felt like the students were understanding most of what they heard, but that they were also interested and engaged, asking lots of questions! The teacher asked for my copy of the story to make copies for the class, and they're going to read it over and bring in questions about grammar, pronunciation, and spelling for the next class. I am really disappointed that this is my last week doing this volunteer job, but when I get back to Syracuse, I am going for this job, "Literacy Corps," where you work—for money!—going to underprivileged Syracuse schools and helping to promote, well, literacy by tutoring struggling students. I am also looking for other jobs during the week, as the Literacy Corps is only about four hours a week. (Barring catastrophe, I will be free all day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, as all my classes KNOCK ON WOOD will be on Tuesday and Thursday.)
Well, that's about all the time I have right now. Most of my friends are away this weekend, so I've been getting lots done, but it will be nice to go out in Madrid again tonight. Relaxing in this city is something I just have not been able to do due to my travel schedule. This afternoon, off to the Sorolla Museum. ¡Hasta pronto, to all those stateside!
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