This blog post is a bit different than our usual reports on weekly happenings. It features writing by Matt about time, creative writing by Sadie as she people watches in Madrid, and three videos (thank you Ethney!) from our adventures over the past several weeks!
In this post, Proctor en Segovia spring 2016 journeys from the high plains and mountains of Castilla to the Mediterranean coast of Catalonia. In the capital of the region, Barcelona, we saw Catalan separatist flags and heard an unfamiliar Romance language. We were surrounded by Gaudí’s modernisme and walked through layers of history (Roman, Jewish, and the late medieval Aragonese empire). North of the capital, in the land that inspired Dalí’s “landscapes” we traversed terraced olive orchards and ancient fishing villages. Enjoy Kevin and Hayden's tales of our visit to Gaudí's Sagrada Familia and our trek on the GR-92.
The day started early in the morning for me. As I walked down stairs to the kitchen, my lovely host mom was there to greet me with a big bagged lunch and big smile. I greeted her, she gave me my lunch, and I was off.
We got off the high speed train in Valencia to be greeted by an array of alluring billboards. We then press on to the hostal where we unload all of our belongings. After brainstorming for awhile we collectively decided to go to the beach for an hour or two before dinner. The beaches skyline was littered with a plethora of kites and floats. Kevin and Drew were the only ones daring enough to set foot in the frigid waters.
My concerns with the host family in Spain vanished as soon as I stepped into the house. The house is not big, and, to some extent, kind of compact. Yet, it is Olga, Cesar and Jimena that make it super cute, adorable, and most importantly, a family in a completely different region and culture. Whether it is Jimena jumping around, “cheating” in our chess games, posing for pictures and “pestering” for more chocolate, whether it is Cesar playing music, cooking the best fish dish that I have ever eaten and preparing a large tortilla de patata bocadillo to share with my friends, whether it is Olga chattering about my everyday experiences, waking me up from my daily siestas (“Nick, Nick, wake up”), “censuring” me for the untidiness in my room and always asking me to eat more food, I feel like that here in Segovia, I have found my other, long-lost family. For the first time in my life, I get to know the feeling of having a sibling in my life, to care for someone unconditionally. She seems to bring me happiness; her laughter, her dance, and her gibberish have the power to bring a wisp of sunshine through the gloomy sky. For the first time in my life, I get to have two families located in different areas who love and care for me equally.
The best things happen when least expected. That has been a phrase tossed around here and there, but I never really thought too much about it and how true it actually is. After the group ventured to our second professional soccer match of the term, Málaga vs. Getafe on Zack’s 18th birthday, we were in search of food. Some of us broke off to get some sushi, but I always stay with Ryan because I always assume he knows the most and will pick the best places to eat. He trusted the loyal app “TripAdvisor” to uncover an Italian restaurant not too far from where we were. “It has good reviews,” he said, but somehow he missed the one that said, “Don’t be scared.” We walked into this restaurant in soccer spectator attire, and I would say that the vibe of the restaurant and the people in it did not match that sense.
My absolute favorite part of Proctor en Segovia is our afternoon activities. When I learned how many options there were, I was thrilled! I’ve been taking classical Spanish guitar lessons with a man named Oscar. Using a combination of Spanish and English we have been able to communicate flawlessly. Our most recent lesson was a blast. We used a program on his iPad to set up a drum beat, record a chord progression on his bass, and then switch between playing the chords and playing a solo on the guitar. I don’t even think of my “lessons” as lessons anymore, I feel like I’m just going to go jam out with a friend and learn guitar along the way.
