Apricot Chicken

I had to share my yummy dinner with you. It's an adaptation from two celebrity chefs....Rachael Ray and Mark Bittman (NY Times blogger....read it, it's good).

Here's the "recipe"
frying pan- chicken breast (thin/pallard style- I used ½ a breast that was pre-cut into three slices) with some chicken stock to coat the bottom of the pan and some red onion
let chicken cook the whole way through (the onions will get soft, but not too soft)
cut up dried apricots (I used 5 for ½ a chicken breast which was way more than enough)
when chicken is ready, put apricots in along with a generous tablespoon of apricot jam/jelly
let liquid cook out (sauce will thicken a little)
eat with a bunch of fresh parsley on top (i like everything that involves parsley).

This recipe was great because it made me want to eat the chicken, which is a good source of protein.

Computer class for second grade

While planning a lesson for the second-graders about the Water Cycle, their teacher (Sole) suggested we use the newly completed computer lab. I had never even seen the room until today, but it was really nice. The government sent 15 computers which run off of Guadalinex (instead of windows), which is a bit of a pain, but okay. We had found a powerpoint about the water cycle which had pictures so the kids would understand it better.

I went to their classroom and Sole and I took the kids upstairs and sat them down in pairs. They were really excited to be out of their classroom. Most of them had seen a computer before, but everything we did was really exciting. She and I went around turning all the computers on and I pulled up the powerpoint on all of their computers. When pictures appeared in the presentation, they squealed (ok, more like screamed) with delight. It was really cute to watch, although my ears didn't like their high-pitched shrills.

They already had a firm grasp of the water cycle in Spanish, so the lesson was a breeze. At the end I taught them a water cycle song that was at the end of the presentation. I'm including the slide on this blog post because it's just too funny to omit. It's now stuck in my head from singing it too many times.

Priego's a little behind on the female health care....

Normally, I wouldn't blog about such a subject, but recently, I've decided to make a gynecologist appointment. It's not a big deal, I just wanted a check-up. Now, first I want to remind you that I live in WESTERN EUROPE. This isn't the third world, it's a "modern" country that is part of the EU (and has been for quite a while). There are also 23,000 people in this town. And - this is the best part of all - Priego is seen as the center of the region, which means that people in the tiny pueblitos come here to conduct their business and go to school, the bank, the grocery store, etc. That said, there is no hospital here. The closest one is in Cabra, 17 miles (or 35-45 minutes on the bus) away.

So, the gynecologist...Here in Spain, you can go to the public centro de salud (health center) where they accept everyone. I showed my ID card (the one that took four trips to Córdoba to acquire) and was given a number in their computer system. It's generally crowded and you have to pull a deli number to make an appointment. I already knew they didn't have a gyno, but I figured I'd go check it out anyway. I was right about the lack of gynecologist. However, they had a "solution." I'm seeing my primary doctor, who will determine if I actually have to see a gynecologist or not. If I do, she'll give me a referral (and hopefully explain how to use it) and I have to get an appointment in Cabra. After talking to a woman who does paperwork a few days at my school, I have learned that this appointment will be in two to three months (at the earliest).

Option two is to go to a private medical center, which my insurance allows me to do. Okay, fine. I'll go to a private doctor, pay out of pocket and get reimbursed later (how the insurance works)...this is my health, I have no problem doing that. This doctor is also the place where the secretary and science teachers from my school go. Great, now I know about the option and I have people who recommend it. Sounds great, right? WRONG. The medical center has a gynecologist in theory, but reality is that a gynecologist comes from Córdoba (63 miles, 2 hours on the bus, 1 1/4 hours by car - there's only a highway for part of the trip) once a month. If you want to be seen by the gyno, you must go to the health center and get on the list. Today is January 27, I'm on the list for March 4 or 5 (they're still not sure which day the doctor will come; they also don't know if it will be for morning or afternoon appointments).

My other option is to physically go to Córdoba or Granada (52 miles, 1.5 hours on the bus - no highway connects Priego and Granada at all). This is apparently what most women (who have insurance) do.

So, I got to thinking....what the hell do pregnant women do? Don't they have to see the doctor frequently? There aren't many women between the ages of 20 and 25 here in Priego, but there sure are a lot of people having babies (strollers cram the two-foot-wide sidewalks). The principal of my school is pregnant. I figured I'd ask her, but she wasn't in her office at 1pm when I finished class, so I asked the secretary (Lourdes). Apparently, I'd just missed Maria Jose who had left to go to the gynecologist!!!!! She was on her way to.....Córdoba.

It baffles my mind that in Spain, a country considered to be part of the so-called "western world," women's healthcare is still lagging. I'm not sure how it works in rural parts of the US, but I hope women's healthcare is more of an issue there, because here, no one seems to mind the lack of gynecologists.

Clouds

So, I decided to accompany Erin part of the way to the gym this evening because I wanted to get a little fresh air. I still don't feel well enough to go workout, so I've wasted a lot of money on the gym this month (because I haven't gone at all). That's what I get for paying upfront for six months. Anyway, when grabbing my coat from my closet, I looked outside. The clouds looked apocalyptic. They were black, but the sky was a pretty shade of blue and the sun was right behind them. Here are some pictures I thought I'd share.



The weather here has been quite strange lately. It rains almost everyday, sometimes for the whole day and sometimes for part of the day. This past weekend, we've been having extreme winds. They're not quite as bad as the winds in Barcelona and Southern France (where 15 people have died), but it's so windy that we can't sleep at night. The gusts bang our windows and persianas (wooden slat blinds) and it makes a racket.

Noodle Kugel

I had this weird craving for noodle kugel. It's especially strange because I don't usually eat it and I've never made it before. I prefer matzoh kugel, but that wasn't going to happen. So, I went to the store and bought egg noodles, which taste almost the same as Manischewitz, except they're in the form of penne.

I found a few recipes online and made what turned out to be a combination of them. I included raisins in mine because that's what my grandma uses. The kugel tasted good, but looked a little strange. I don't think there was enough liquid even though I used four eggs for 1/2 a pound of pasta. I will definitely be making this one again.

Way to go 5th Grade!

I'm really proud of my 5th grade classes. On Wednesday I asked them to prepare a blurb about their favorite animal (they're learning about animals). They were a little confused by my assigning them homework and only some of them came to class with something written down. I told them that this didn't matter because I was more interested in hearing them speak.

First I had 5A (the better behaved class). I picked a student's name from the alphabetical list and made her go first. One-by-one each student presented their "favorite" animal to the class. Some picked an animal from the chapter, while others were more inventive. Most hadn't really prepared anything and David and I questioned them about an animal. They all got up in the front of the room and said something, which was my goal of the class. They had to tell us the kind of animal and then describe it (It is big, It is brown, etc.). Even the kid who never does anything and still hasn't bought the book was able to do this. He even did a decent job.

David and I knew this wouldn't work in 5B because the kids are much more disruptive. Instead of having them present in front of the classroom, each student had to come into the hallway and talk to me one-on-one. Almost none of these students had prepared anything and most of them picked "dog" as their favorite animal. Some of them complained about not knowing how to speak English or not knowing what to say about their animal. In the end, everyone was able to tell me something about the animal. They all did a great job practicing the vocabulary and sentence structures they're learning. I'm anxious to try this again soon.

In addition to going to the 5th grade classes, I stayed with Lourdes while she watched 5A during recess (it was raining today). The kids were really wild - they were throwing themselves on the floor. Lourdes made them sit in their seats and we all played hangman in English. I got to go first and my word was "trumpet," one of their vocab words from October. They were pretty responsive to the game and played along well even though their strategy was terrible. They guessed letters in alphabetical order. I think I might have to use this in a future class....

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes (Knees and Toes)

I have sung this song 7 million times today. My first graders absolutely loved it.

I taught it to the second grade back in October, but the first grade just started learning about the body and their teacher and I thought they could handle the song. We practiced several times together, then I split the class (all 8 kids who were there today) in half and had them sing to the other half. The second group got up to the front of the classroom and showed up their friends. They were so into it. Then we all sung together again.

I'm pretty sure they understood the song and I know they really liked the activity. We repeated it a few hours later in their English class and they remembered it without me having to sing along.

Spanish Banking

When we got back to Spain I checked my bank statement and saw that a random 3 euro charge was taken out on December 31, 2008. I was in Rome then and didn't use my Spanish debit card at all. The charge was referred to as a commission.

Then I got sick and didn't have the strength to fight with the crowds of old people who gather at the bank.

Tuesday, I got the chance to go in between classes. The bank is set up like an L. When you walk in, the three tellers are straight back behind glass windows. On the left there are three counters - the first one is for opening an account and the other two are a mystery.

I went to the woman in the back who had helped me with online banking (everyone rotates around and works at all the desks). I explained that there was a mysterious three euro charge and I asked what it was. I have no idea what she said to me because most of her conversation was actually with the other teller (who opened my account). The woman then told me to go to one of the mystery middle counters and when it was my turn to ask that guy to come ask her what had to be done with my account.

I went over to the middle counters and gave the man my little account book (it's bigger than a checkbook and records all of my transactions). I asked him about the charge and told him that the woman sent me to him and told me to tell him to talk to her. Instead of doing this, he looked at the book and told me, "I'll just give you the three euros back."

So, he did. He put three euros in my account and sent me on my way. When I asked him what the charge was and what I could do to avoid it in the future, he didn't really answer my question but instead told me that this was all fixed.

I'm still not sure what the function of the middle counters is, nor do I understand where the charge came from and why it was that easy to get it back. No one seemed surprised that I was there asking about it nor were they bothered by it. All of this leads to me continue to question, how does anyone make money in this country??? (On a side note, I got more change than necessary at the post office today because the woman gave me a 5 cent piece instead of two 2-cent ones or four one-cent coins.....random).

Social Medicine at It’s Best

I’ve been sick the past few days. This weekend I thought I could beat it by spending two days inside sitting on the couch. I’ve been drinking lots of fluids and sleeping as much as I could, which hasn’t been much.

Friday I went to the pharmacy and got cough medicine. It was red and gross, but I took it anyway. I explained to the woman that my coughing was relatively dry and she recommended a standard cough medicine. It did nothing. I think my cold actually got worse over the weekend. I couldn’t sleep Saturday night, so Sunday I slept in the living room because I could be better propped up.

This morning (Monday), I decided to go to the doctor. I left the house a little before ten a.m. because I wasn’t sure if the public health center opened at nine or ten. When I got there, it became evident that it had been open for quite a while. I entered and took D00 from the red deli-counter number dispenser. They were on C72. I took a seat. There were only about 8 chairs, but most were unoccupied because the impatient Spanish insist on standing as close to the “wait behind this line” mark on the floor as possible. I must have looked like death while I was sitting there because people were giving me really strange looks. I was using a roll of toilet paper to sop up my nasal drip. I was also sitting in my Tufts sweatshirt with my scarf wrapped around the hood. These are not common sights for the little, old Spanish women shuffling around the waiting entranceway (it wasn’t a room).

After only 35 minutes of waiting my number appeared on the screen. I went up to the desk and handed the man my identity card. He typed in my information and went to go do some other paperwork. The people on either side of me (there isn’t much privacy here) were getting appointments for tomorrow morning. Here they are, standing in the medical center and they have to come back tomorrow. At this point I was resting my head on the counter while the man worked. I think he might have taken some pity on me because I got an appointment for 1:35 p.m.

So, I zipped up my coat, put my hood on my head, and put on my gloves and went back outside. It wasn’t that cold today, so I really looked like a freak. I went to the vegetable store and bought some stuff and then went to the grocery store (never taking my hood off) and bought some juice, chicken broth and chicken. Then I went home and made chicken soup with leeks, carrots, zucchini, celery, onion, celery leaves, and garlic.

At 1:20 p.m. I went back up to the health center. This time I walked straight in and went to office 15 where my appointment was. When the doctor showed up, ten minutes late, I was shown into a room where there was a hospital bed (small and against one wall) as well as a desk with a computer and two chairs. I took a chair and explained my symptoms. He looked at my ears and immediately told me I had an ear infection. Then he listened to my chest and said I had slight bronchitis. He gave me prescriptions which were on print-outs. They had a bar code on the paper and he fed it through his computer and printed it out.

I took them across the street to the pharmacy where the bar codes were scanned and my medicines given to me (in five minutes- CVS should take a lesson from this system). The best part: I got an antibiotic, cough syrup, ear drops and a thermometer for ten euros (less than $14). No insurance necessary. No doctor co-payment or money exchanged for my doctor visit.

Our Journey Back to Spain

At two a.m. (Moroccan time, GMT) we boarded a train in Fes. It took us a while to find seats in the crowded cars, but finally some women took pity on me and let me share their bench and some other people moved over so Cecilia could sit down. We were only on this train for 90 minutes. At Sidi Kacem we changed to another train. This time, I rushed onto the train to try to get us better seats (or at least seats together). I got us a compartment where a man was laying on one of the (four person) benches. We took the other bench and were able to spread out a bit. We quickly passed out.

We arrived in Tangier at 7:30 a.m., where we took a taxi to the port. Once we arrived there, we bought tickets on the next ferry, which was going to Tarifa (we wanted to go to Algeciras). We didn’t realize the mess-up until we were boarding the boat. It didn’t much matter because on the other side of the strait we got on a free shuttle bus to Algeciras where we walked to the train station. (We knew we had more than enough time to get there.) The ferry only took half an hour, but Spain is an hour ahead of Morocco.

At 12:15 p.m. our train left Algeciras destined for Granada. We got there at five and took a city bus to the bus station, where I left Cecilia to go to the grocery store (it’s a block away) to get orange juice and cough drops. Our 6:30 p.m. bus got to Priego a little past eight, at which point we had been traveling for 17 hours.

One note on the Italy and Morocco entries: the photos which accompany them are not necessarily the best photos from my trip. Others can be found on facebook, or by visiting the following links:

Lugano (Switzerland), Como, Milan, Verona, Padua, and Venice
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107411&l=08b62&id=1704499
Pisa, Tuscany, Florence, Sorrento, Capri, Pompeii:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107415&l=29dbf&id=1704499
Rome
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107440&l=a2262&id=1704499
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107446&l=7b5b8&id=1704499

Marrakech:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107322&l=37257&id=1704499
Marrakech and Fes:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2107508&l=8e2ea&id=1704499

Morocco: Fes

We took the train from Marrakech to Fes, which was the most comfortable way to travel between the two cities. The French recently redid the train lines or train cars or something like that. The station in Marrakech was new with clean bathrooms that actually had toilet paper and soap! On our seven-hour train ride we passed green hills, with the Middle-Atlas Mountains in the background. Straight lines of cacti had been planted to mark property lines, forming a natural fencing system. We rode through Casablanca and Rabat, both of which appeared to be large cities. In Fes, it took us some time to find the hostel, which was on my lonely planet map. Fewer people spoke English and we had to rely on my shaky French to get us through the Ville Nouvelle. Here, the “new city” was much more rundown than its counterpart in Marrakech. Taxi drivers also hassled us trying to give us rides.

The woman at our hostel told us not to go to the medina at night because there weren’t many restaurants to get dinner and we would get hassled a lot more than if we stayed in the Ville Nouvelle. We took her advice and went out in search of dinner. We each had chicken kebabs which were served with a veggie rice (with tomato, corn, and pepper). We also split a salad. This was not just any ordinary salad. It was pretty amazing. The ingredients were arranged in little piles on a bed of lettuce. It contained: cabbage, beets, tomatoes, cucumber, carrots, tuna, hardboiled eggs, and potatoes. Some of the veggies had come out of a can and there was some mayonnaise on top of the salad, but after a day on a train eating nothing but carbs, this was delicious.

The next morning we brought our bags to the bus station (the only place in town to lock them up) and got some crepes there before heading into the medina. The medina of Fes is the largest living medieval city in the world; it’s so big that it’s divided into old old Fes and new old Fes (the Mellah, Jewish section). We had been warned to stick to the main roads and pathways.


While wandering through Fes's streets, I couldn't help but take a photograph of these mannequins, which, to me, are a testament to globalization. No one in Morocco has blond hair like this. It almost sickened me to see that they see blond hair and light eyes as "beauty" or "ideal." Unfortunately, I couldn't talk to any Moroccans on this subject.

First we set off for the Mellah, where we visited the Ibn Danan Synagogue, which is no longer in use. Inside, we were allowed to take photographs and visit the women’s gallery upstairs. It was weird to me to see a synagogue in Moroccan style, with similar carvings and tile work to the palaces we had visited in Marrakech. Probably the most striking thing was that the bema and the ark were across from each other, as they had been in the synagogues I had visited in Venice, but not at all common in synagogue architecture.



We went up to the roof of the synagogue to get a view of the neighboring Jewish cemetery, which was the next destination on our tour of Fes. Many of the graves were unmarked, but some were as recent as 2004. There was a section for Rabbis and one very ornate tomb for a 17-year-old girl, born in Tangier, who was killed because she refused to convert to Islam. Now, 150 remaining Jewish families in Fes live and pray in the Ville Nouvelle. The synagogue, which did have a torah in the ark, is only used for special occasions.

Leaving the Mellah, we walked through some souks (most of the Fes was a gigantic marketplace) to get to the Muslim part of the medina. On our way to the medrasas, we took a detour to visit the tanneries. Fes is famous for its leather industry. We went inside a store, then up to the fourth story to look down into the leather tanning and curing area where teams of men bathed the animal hides in acid washes and natural dyes before hanging them to dry. Because we were so high up, we (thankfully) could not smell the hides.

We found a medrasa we had wanted to visit, but it was closed for restoration. Instead we went in search of lunch. We found a bunch of little hole-in-the-wall places, which were literally holes-in-the-wall. Many of them were so small that they could only fit a two-person table inside. They were designed to sell quick meals to workers in the area. We finally found one that had space inside (it was much larger and even had a “bathroom”). We ordered eggplant in tomato sauce and fried fish. We were served our meals and bread, but were not given silverware. When we looked around, we noticed that people were using their hands or bread to eat. So we rolled up our sleeves (slathered on some Purel) and dug in. The fish was spicy, but well seasoned. It was a challenge to pull bones out of the fish, but it was really delicious anyway. The spicy eggplant tasted good on top of the bread and the meal was really satisfying, especially because it only cost $2 each.

After lunch we went in search of more medresas, entering two. At the Seffarine Medersa, which was built in 1270, we took a “tour.” Men in Fes work as unofficial “tour guides” offering their services outside all tourist attractions. The man at the Seffarine Medersa wouldn’t let us enter without paying him (the equivalent of $1), and then he took us around telling us about the building. The problem was that he spoke no English and Cecilia doesn’t speak French. Luckily, some French guys were on our “tour” also, because they were much better at translating than I was. We went up to the roof of the medersa and looked its minaret as well as those of neighboring mosques. As we were exiting, two boys were leaving their room (the medersa is still in use). They asked (in French) where we were from and I told them that Cecilia and I were American while the boys were French. The Moroccan boys’ eyes lit up: “Americans! Welcome to Morocco!” They completely ignored the French boys. As we were going down to exit the mosque, one of the French boys looked at me and said, “It may be a religious school, but they’re still boys.”

The other medersa we visited was the Bou Inania Medersa. Inside this medersa, we were able to see the prayer room which is still in use. This was interesting because in the other medersas we were either allowed to enter the prayer room if is no longer in use, or we could not enter the room at all. Here, we could not enter the room, but we had a clear view of it and could even take pictures of the mihrab.


This is that prayer room.


Next we climbed a hill to see Fes from above. The medina was enormous: neither of us could fit it into one photo. Afterwards, we walked around the souks shopping and taking some pictures. It was raining so I wasn’t able to take that many photos. We also stopped to have a cup of tea, one of five that day (my throat was hurting, so tea was a good thing). Finding bathrooms in Fes was challenging. Well, ok, holes in the floor were not that hard to find, western toilets were impossible. We used the bathroom at the bus station a few times. Moroccan women must have amazing thighs because they squat over those things several times a day. Toilet paper was completely m.i.a., we had to buy tissue packs from kids selling them on street corners. Forget soap; Purel saved us in this need.


In Fes we saw many more women out than we had seen in Marrakech. We even saw women at nighttime in the bus station, where we had to hang out waiting for our train to leave. (Our train left at 2 a.m., we didn’t wait at the train station because there were no shops or food stalls there and it was pretty disserted in the afternoon when we had arrived.) There were also fewer tourists in Fes. We met some at the medersas and at the synagogue, but it wasn’t like Marrakech where everyone had a digital SLR out and walked around snapping away. Fes was rougher and more of a hassle, we had to rely more on my awful French, men talked to us as we passed them on the streets, and we had to sit in the bus station for five hours because it was a safe place to wait. Even so, I’m really glad we went.

Morocco: Marrakech

Leaving my mother on a shuttle bus at the airport in Rome (she was heading for the Delta/intercontinental terminal; I was heading for European departures), I boarded a flight to Barcelona where I left the EU for the first time since September. The guy who gave me my exit stamp didn’t even look at my passport. If he has looked, it would have told him that I had overstayed a tourist visa (I have a residency permit, but he never asked to see it). In Europe, they’re a little more lax than Homeland Security.

Immigration in Morocco was also interesting. Instead of handing out forms on the plane, we were welcomed into a large room with two ledges to use as desks while we filled out the entrance cards.

Arriving in Marrakech I was amazed by the chaos of Djemma el-Fna, the main square in the Medina, medieval walled section of the city. The square was huge and did not have a curb to keep cars and motorcycles out of it. As we approached (on foot and accompanied by the hostel manager) we couldn’t really see buildings, just swells of people. We wove our way to our hostel, passing through the souks (the word for “market” in Arabic). The narrow “streets” are filled with stores, some behind counters, some large enough to enter, and others are just carts on along the sides.



We dumped our stuff and decided to go out and find food because neither Cecilia nor I had eaten much all day. We went back out to Djemma el-Fna and walked around the food stalls. There were carts selling dried fruits and nuts, other selling fresh juice (orange, grapefruit and tangerine), and other stalls serving full-out meals. We looked at some menus before deciding on a place to eat. For dinner, we split chicken tajine – a stew of chicken, vegetables and Moroccan spices which is traditionally cooked in a pan with a pyramid-shaped top. It was good, but it didn’t have as much flavor as I expected it to have. We also had really good bread (everywhere we ate in Marrakech), which was soft and we dipped it in two different sauces: one spicy and the other a tomato sauce. In addition to our tajine, we had some chicken and some veggie kebabs and a plate of sautéed eggplant (which I ate at every meal in Marrakech). The eggplant was amazing! It was exactly the kind I had eaten all over Israel: it’s oily and bad for me, but so yummy. For dessert, we had fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice.

The next morning, we woke up and went to the Djemma el-Fna in search of breakfast. We found a place to eat “crepes.” Much thicker than the French version, these were square of dough, cooked on a griddle, slathered with honey and folded in half. We ate one each morning, accompanied by a cup of Moroccan mint tea, which is made by brewing tea leaves with sugar, then adding fresh mint to the clear, handle-less glass. In Marrakech, glasses were about 6-8oz, whereas in Fes, they were larger.

We went to two palaces in the Kasbah section of the medina. Kasbah refers to a fortified section of a city or a fortress. The first palace was the Palais Bidi, it had huge walls with storks living on top of them. The palace was in ruins, but we could get a feel for the rooms and the gardens which must have been really nice in their time. I had never heard storks, but these made a lot of noise: a clicking sound, which could be heard throughout the open-air palace.

Our second palace was Palais Bahía, a more recent palace, opulently decorated with tiles, plaster and wood-carved ceilings. No two rooms were decorated in the same manner because everything was done by hand. This palace had many rooms which opened onto courtyards. Every surface was covered with some kind of decoration. We wandered around the palace looking at the designs which were intricate and colorful.



Next, we walked through the medina (called the old city) trying to get to some other palaces and tourist sites. It takes a while to get through the medina because the streets are really narrow and you have to dodge people, donkeys, horses, motorcycles and the occasional car which thinks it can make it through the streets. We also stopped to look at other souks, one of which was full of spices arranged in brightly-colored cones.

We went to the Mnebhi Palace, where the Marrakech museum is housed. This building was decorated in the same style and from the same era as the Palais Bahía. The biggest difference was that in the middle of its largest courtyard it had a huge metal light fixture dangling from the ceiling. When I say huge, the thing was probably about 20 feet in diameter. The actual museum was small, but had an interesting collection of fibula, old broaches, and pottery.

In the same section of Marrakech, we visited the Medersa Ibn Ben Youseff, a 14th century school. This was a boarding school where students were sent to learn the Qur’an. The building, while in the center of the noisy, chaotic medina, was peaceful and quiet inside. It was like a whole different world.

For lunch, we dined on more eggplant and roasted peppers. After lunch, we headed to the Ville Nouvelle, the newer part of the city. Because it was more recently planned, streets in the Ville Nouvelle were wider allowing cars and buses to pass. The buildings were red stucco and low (as not sky scrapers), we also saw McDonalds, KFC, Zara and Max Mara. Clearly, international influence had reached the new part of Marrakech.

Back in the medina, we walked around the Koutoubia mosque. Its minaret can be seen for miles because it’s the tallest in Marrakech. After that, we wandered around the souks shopping for souvenirs and gifts. Then we went to a café above the Djemma el-Fna to get a bird’s eye view. Up there, I bumped into a friend and fellow traveler whom I had met in Argentina. I was completely shocked to walk onto this balcony and here my name (especially as it was pronounced in American English). He was traveling for a week in Morocco with a friend.

That night for dinner, Cecilia and I had pepper kebabs and I had more eggplant. As a pre-dinner appetizer, I had some steamed snails which were popular and sold at the snail food stalls. I was given a small bowl with the creatures (still in their shells) and some broth. To extract the animals, I used a toothpick. They tasted pretty good, almost like mussels. I don’t know the next time I’ll eat another snail, but they weren’t as disgusting as I thought they might be.

We really liked Marrakech because we stayed inside the medina, where it was crazy/chaotic, but it had a good energy and it was fun. I also felt safe walking around with my camera out. People didn’t hassle us too much; yes, they tried to get us to buy their products or eat at their food stall, but they didn’t go above and beyond to try to talk to us. We also were able to eat really well for relatively little money. For dinner we spent about $4 each, juices were $1, my snails $0.60.

Italian highlights: Rome

Italian highlights: Rome
I don’t really know how to write this entry about Rome. I think I saw at least eight churches one day. I also walked six miles that morning and then went and me up with mom and walked some more. Rome was amazing. I saw ruins and things I had studied in art history. We ate great food and had a wonderful time. There is so much history and culture in Rome that it was hard to see it in four days, but we did our best.

I’m going to divide this entry into three sections: churches, ruins, and food.

The Vatican comes first because, well, that’s where the most important church in the Christian world can be found. St. Peter’s was really amazing, but I was most exited to see Baldaccino, or canopy, carved by Bernini. It was huge (it had to be to fit the scale of the church) and the spiral pillars are so often seen on television because they frame the pope’s altar.



Also in the Vatican we saw the Sistine Chapel. We weren’t really ready for the height of the chapel and how far away the ceiling frescoes were from our vision. It was actually somewhat difficult to see them. Even so, the side frescoes were amazing as well (they just weren’t painted by Michelangelo).



In addition to these sites, I went to the first Jesuit church in the world, called the Jesú, saw the chains that bound St. Peter, saw the original papal residency and church, and went to a church on the site of the first Christian place of worship. It was called Santa Maria in Trastevere and its mosaics were amazing.



While I was in the Trastevere section of Rome, I went to Tempietto which I had studied in art history. It’s a little temple, built in 1502 by Bramante, housed in a courtyard at a church on top of a hill overlooking Rome. The temple is said to be of perfect proportions. It’s actually quite tiny. You can enter the front door and from there you can be back outside in one-two steps. There is a lower level, but you cannot enter it. There were only a few other tourists up there while I was walking around it. I went around the back of the temple and walked down the stairs to see inside the lower chamber of the temple. There weren’t many signs so I’m not sure what was housed in the lower part.



While wandering around, mom and I went into Santa Maria sopra Minerva which had a blue fresco ceiling. There was also a statue by Michelangelo up near the altar.



I went to the Pantheon three times. The first time, mom and I went at night, but it had just closed. The second time I went, it was early in the morning and there was almost no one there. The third time (I had to bring mom there with me) it was raining inside. Yes, it was raining inside the Pantheon. That hole in the ceiling is not covered by glass, it was actually a hole. It was only misting/drizzling, but we could see the rain entering the building. We couldn't see it hit the ground, but it was still surreal to see water entering the building. In our practical-thinking American minds, we figured they put glass up there to cover the hole.



Some of the other churches were smaller and had few to no tourists inside. Some, like the one on the Piazza del Popolo or the one on the Piazza Navona, were round, while others like Santa Maria del Popolo had Caravaggio paintings. Actually, we had to brave the crowds of French tourists at the San Luigi dei Francesi to see some amazing paintings by Caravaggio. His St. Matthew series (The Calling of St. Matthew, the Martyrdom of St. Matthew and St. Matthew and the Angel) was much better than his works we saw at the Uffizi. He painted in a realistic style and the expressions on the people’s faces were so lifelike we felt the people were in the same room as us.

Roman Ruins:
Of course we saw the Coliseum. It was cool, but really touristy and our guide sucked and we didn’t stay inside long enough to actually appreciate the building. I was more excited about the Arch of Constantine which was on the same plaza.



Mom and I also visited the Roman Forum which gave us a real feel for how people in ancient Rome lived. Seeing it first from the Palentine Hill, we got a sense of where things were and how it was organized. Then we went down into the forum and looked at the details on the buildings. I had studied the Temple of the Vestal Virgins, young girls who entered the house of the Vestal Virgins at age ten promising to remain chaste and maintain the eternal flame of Rome until they were freed back into society at age 40. Also in the forum, we saw the spot where Caesar’s body was burned, several temples and the original senate building.



In addition to the forum, we saw the ruins of a theater (Teatro Marcello) in the Jewish Ghetto section of Rome. We also saw some small temples near the Circus Maximus, a former chariot racetrack, but now a field. We walked by Caesar’s and Agustus’s fori, as well as Trajan’s forum and his column, which was the basis for Marcus Aurelius’s column. Both men constructed columns which a spiral bas relief going around them to record everything they accomplished while in office.



Another place I walked around was the Area Sacra di Largo Argentina, a site which contains parts of four temples and the building where Caesar was stabbed on the Ides of March. It seems like every corner of Rome has a place in history.

Another ruin we saw, we had been restore and moved inside, was the Ara Pacis, or Peace Altar. It was commissioned by the Senate in 13BC to commemorate the peace throughout the Mediterranean as accomplished by Marcus Aurelius. The altar was huge, at least 12 feet high and people could walk up the stairs and into it. Around the upper frieze of the altar, sculptures depict all the important people of the time. The sculptures are incredibly detailed and serve as a yearbook.



Food in Rome:
We had two great meals in Rome. One was our lunch in the Jewish Ghetto. One of the Roman specialties is fried artichokes. We watched two men pealing artichokes in the entrance to the restaurant. When they arrived at our table, the artichokes had been fried in oil and were crispy. We pulled them apart (like people in the US pull apart a bloomin’ onion). We also ordered a fried zucchini blossom stuffed with anchovies and cheese and fried pieces of baccala (salted codfish). I had eaten baccala in Spain and Portugal (where it’s called bacalou), but mom had not had it since her childhood. Her father, who was born in Italy, had often talked about it. The food was delicious, as was the homemade fettuccini with artichoke sauce we split after our fried appetizers.

Our other great meal was our final dinner. We chose a restaurant that was a bit fancy, especially for us. When we sat down, we were served a complementary chef’s tasting, warm ricotta and artichoke tort with a mint sprig on top. I don’t like ricotta, but this was outrageously good. It was soft, yet the bottom was crunch (it had been the top in the oven). Next, we each ordered a pasta dish: I had baccala tortellini which were more like ravioli and served in a sauce of garlic and butter. Mom ordered chestnut gnocchi which she seemed to enjoy. For dinner we split two dishes: grilled and roasted vegetables (eggplant, pepper, tomatoes, zucchini, potato) and eggplant, buffalo mozzarella, and tomato tart, which was stacks of the three ingredients which had been baked together. The breads were all homemade and replenished frequently.

In addition to these meals we had an interesting lunch in Rome. It was pizza, which in the US wouldn’t be considered anything interesting. Except in Rome, the pizza was baked in a brick oven and sold by weight. We picked what kind we wanted and told the guy how big of a piece, he then cut it and weighed it on a scale before folding it in half, wrapping it in paper and handing it to us. I ate a piece of cheese-less, a piece of zucchini on cheese with no tomato and few bites of mushroom pizza. Mom had the mushroom one and a regular piece (cheese, tomato sauce). The crust was thin and crispy.

Italian highlights: Pompeii

One morning we visited the ruins at Pompeii, a city destroyed and preserved when Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD. During our tour, we saw houses and cantinas as well as the main shopping street and central forum (plaza). More interesting than the buildings were the details which hinted at how the people of that time lived.


We looked at street signs from the time of Pompeii which were carved on tablets.


Mount Vesuvius looming in the background.


Stepping stones served two purposes: 1. to help people cross the street in times of rain and 2. to keep people who used carriages with low-wheel bases out of that neighborhood.

Italian highlights: Capri

For all its hoity-toity reputation, I really liked Capri. Mom and I opted not to do the tour with the group. Instead we went with a smaller group to see some gardens on the southern side of the island. From the balconies there we had a great view of the rocks of the coast of the island.



The view from the gardens.

Then I went on a walk up to the Villa Jovis, where Tiberius ruled the Roman Empire during his final years. The walk was more of an uphill power walk/jog because I didn’t have much time before I had to meet mom for lunch. Along the way I saw tons of private residences on the island. The people there don’t have cars because there aren’t really roads. Instead I saw many women dragging their shopping carts to and from produce markets. I also saw several small carts delivering butane (for heating and hot water), along with a shuttle taking some elderly people to their house. While this moved like a car, it was only 1/3 the width of a car and I actually had to climb on a wall to let it pass because we couldn’t both fit on the path.

The Villa was in ruins, but had spectacular views of the island as well as both bays (Naples and Salerno). I was also the only person inside the site when I was up there, which meant I could look around at my own pace (rather than following the tour guide’s voice on my earpiece).





The Bays of Naples and Salerno as they meet the sea.

After my work-out (getting up the hill, around the villa and back down in a short amount of time is a work-out), I had lunch with my mom and some other people from our group. Then we walked around Capri. Most of the places were closed because it was the off season and apparently the people of Capri follow a siesta schedule.



This picture is for mom. It was on the wall just outside the entrance to the perfume plant/shop where she bought some solid perfume.

Italian highlights: Sorrento

Everyone got a little nauseous on the ride into (or rather up and around the cliffs) to Sorrento. The town was adorable though. Set on the Bay of Naples, we had amazing views of Mount Vesuvius from our hotel room, which had a little balcony and sitting area outside. I walked around and went grocery shopping here. The streets were narrow and filled with tacky tourist shops, selling mostly lemonchello and related crap. It reminded me of the Cape a little because of the economic dependency on tourism. It was just as quaint as well. We really didn’t spend much time here, just two evenings.



The view from our hotel:

Italian highlights: Florence: a live version of my art history book.

Of all the places we went to in Italy, Florence was the one that really excited me. I knew I wanted to see things like the Gates of Paradise and the duomo, but I never expected to see the Brancacci Chapel. I loved Rome, but for Rome I had planed a bit more and figured out what I wanted to see ahead of time. Florence was full of surprises for me.

One of the first things we saw that we had not expected was the Ponte Vecchio. The term means old bridge and I figured it was just that: a bridge. Wrong. It was a bridge, but it was lined with little shops selling jewelry, which, at night, were closed by old-fashioned wooden doors.



The Gates of Paradise was something I had studied in art history class in high school. They are a set of gold doors, by Ghilberti, on the baptistery in Florence. Michelangelo, when he saw them, gave them that name. However, the real doors have been dismantled and are in a museum behind the cathedral (which we didn’t bother going to because we realized that the gates are in pieces). Even so, the doors are really interesting to see because they factor so prominently in the Renaissance movement. The cathedral and bell tower were also interesting because of the colors used in their exteriors.

Also in Florence, we saw the David. I knew we were going to see it, but that didn’t stop me for being surprised by it as we rounded the corner and there, at the end of the corridor, it stood. It’s huge: 15 feet from head to toe (plus it stand on a platform about eight feet off the ground).

Our tour group decided to go to the Uffizi gallery also. Here, we saw more things I had studied in my classes: Madonnas by Giotto and Fra Anglico, some works by Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo, as well as the Botticelli room. An entire room dedicated to him. I saw Birth of Venus which has been one of my favorite paintings for a long time. Mom said she liked Springtime (Prentemps) more. The guide then took us downstairs to see some boring Caravaggio’s (honestly, the ones we found in Rome were 100 times better). She almost let us leave the room without mentioning Judith Slaying Holofernes (!!), but then she did, so it’s ok. I stayed at the museum for another hour and a half after the rest of the group left to go back to the hotel. Walking around, I found a bunch of Durer paintings and other really cool pieces. I wasn’t expecting to see Durer’s work there because I thought the stuff would be mostly Italian art.

On our free day in Florence, mom and I walked around quite a bit. Our tour guide had told us to check out a church called the Santa Maria del Carmine. I couldn’t find anything about it in the guidebook, but decided to search for it anyway. It wasn’t on the map, so we went to the area we thought it was in and I asked a garbage man (in Spanish) who told me where to go (in Italian). Our tour guide the previous day had told us that it was located two blocks from a palace. Well, we actually had to turn two blocks after the palace and then walk six more blocks before coming to a nondescript building with a bunch of cars parked right in front (practically on top of the building). It didn’t look at all suited for tourist visits. The inside of the church was nice, but not spectacular, although I really did like the perspective on the ceiling frescoes. When I approached the altar I could see half of it was roped off and dark. In the middle of the darkness, people were standing in the one tourist site I wanted to see: the Brancacci Chapel. I didn’t think we would be able to see it because you are supposed to make reservations (many of Italy’s sites function this way), but we were able to get tickets to enter because there weren’t many tourists there. It was incredible. The colors on the frescoes were absolutely amazing. I took a million pictures. I now love Masaccio.



The view from the main part of the church.



The chapel actually had a separate entrance.

After the chapel, mom and I had the best meal of the trip (at least up until this point). When we entered the restaurant, they looked nervous when we said that we did not have a reservation (we took this as a good sign). They found room for us in the back, under an alcove, next to a coat rack. We had grilled vegetables to start which included a warm tomato with cheese and bread crumbs. Then I ordered pear ravioli in a cream sauce with asparagus. I don’t like pears. I don’t really like cream sauces. However, what arrived to the table was absolutely amazing. The homemade ravioli were shaped like flowers almost. They were like little dumplings, filled with pear compote and then sealed with pieces of pasta which fell like flower petals from the cinched center. The cream and asparagus worked well with the pear flavor and the pasta was absolutely fresh. Mom ordered spinach and ricotta “lasagna.” It was finely chopped spinach with ricotta cheese inside tubes of fresh pasta. Like mine, the pasta melted in our mouths. It was unlike any lasagna we’d ever eaten before. We left the meal feeling completely satisfied.



Our hotel in Florence was located in an old convent, which could be seen in the entrance way and lobby (the rooms were complete crap).

Italian highlights: Pisa

Christmas day we had the most touristy stop on our trip: Pisa. Even with the holiday, it was still open. Tourists were still all over the tower, duomo, baptistery complex. Mom and I decided not to climb the tower. She was nauseous from just looking at it and I didn’t feel like leaving her on the ground while I ran up the thing.

Instead we checked out the duomo (cathedral), which was really cool. The outside was made of mostly recycled marble bits, meaning some parts had words carved into them and all the walls were actually different colors. Inside, the dome was extremely high and there were flights of stairs at the top where someone (not the public and certainly not my mother) could climb up to what I’m guessing is access to the roof or the top of the dome.





We snapped a couple of pictures, but didn’t stay that long before wandering back to the bus. It was starting to drizzle and there wasn’t much to do besides look at the tower, which is still leaning.

Italian highlights: Venice

I wasn’t really prepared for how awesome Venice was. We arrived at night time and took water taxis to our hotel. These were midsized boats (compared to the bus-sized vaporetti and much smaller gondolas and traghetti). I sat outside while mom and the rest of our group sat inside. I wanted to see Venice and take some pictures.



Our hotel was located on the Gran Canal, right across from the Santa Maria de la Salud church. It was also the nicest hotel we stayed at during the trip. Our room was large and had a huge flat screen TV which turned on as we entered the room. The bathroom was the most bizarre because the shower and mirror/sink formed an L-shape, meaning you could see yourself while you showered (one of the best weight-loss tools).



We had one full day in Venice. We visited the Doge’s palace, where we saw the former government rooms and the jail and bridge of sighs and we took a tour of Saint Mark’s Basilica. At the Doge’s palace, the ceilings were made of gold leaf and frescoes. One room had an enormous ceiling which was held up by chains above the room. Because Venice was built on small islands, the ground is not very sturdy. It was difficult for engineers to construct the Doge’s palace because they wanted to make it opulent, but it had to be structurally sound as well. St. Mark’s was really pretty inside. Built in the gold-rich Byzantine style, it’s numerous domes wer covered with gold mosaics. We also hopped another water taxi and went to Murano, an island famous for its glassmakers.



After separating from the group, mom and I walked across the gigantic Rialto Bridge and took a traghetto (gondola) across the Grand Canal. The ride didn’t even last 30 seconds, but it was fun. We got to ride a gondola and didn’t have to pay €70 (and mom didn’t get seasick!!). We then wound our way through the street markets and maze of bridges to get to the Jewish ghetto. The word ghetto actually originated in Venice. The island where the ghetto is located used to be a foundry (a factory producing metal castings) and in Italian, the word for a foundry is ghetto. There, we visited some baroque synagogues which was weird for me because I’m so used to Priego’s baroque churches. To see the artist style in a synagogue just seemed out of place and overly opulent for Judaism.

On our way to and from the ghetto we explored some store in Venice. We went to a food store and noticed that they had horsemeat for sale. The also sold pre-made Butonni ravioli, so I felt right at home (A&P in Old Tappan carries them) because I grew up eating them. We noticed that deserts and foods had changed a bit and many places carried green cookies with pistachios in them.



Christmas Eve we went to midnight mass at St. Mark’s. We sat in the first row, over to one side of the church (so we couldn’t actually see anything). People flocked the church and filled the aisles. We left early (a little before 1 a.m.) and stopped at the local church near our hotel, which was having a nice, much smaller service. At St. Mark’s we had booklets translating the service into English, German and French. Different readings were done in these languages as well as in Italian and Latin. At the parish church they sung Silent Night in Italian, which was much more powerful than the entire service at St. Mark’s.


The ceiling at St. Mark's.

Christmas morning we woke up and took another water taxi out of Venice. Again, I sat outside to take photographs.