Dodging the bull

As previously stated, this weekend was so Spanish. This doesn't include me and four other people huddled around a laptop on Thursday streaming The Hunger Games.


Bullfighting in Spain is a rich and artsy tradition. Think what you want of it, but the start of bull season here almost reminded me of opening day in the MLB. In front of the stadium people are selling you discounted drinks (necessary for gringos while watching a bull get stabbed to its death) and snacks and restaurant promoters are everywhere (though tailgating hasn't been picked up...yet).  In Sevilla the corridas began on Easter Sunday, and Friday's show was the second. I went with my host dad, and one of our neighbors and their americana.

Megan, our neighbor's americana, and I were both noticing how young all the torreros (matadors) looked. I was thinking oh yes, I saw you and your friends on Calle Betis last night. Turned out they looked so young because they were our peers. In fact, I have a few months on a couple of them.


Everyone dresses up at the corridas, kids are (per usual) running around and the tourists are just trying to figure out what the hell is going on. The injustice that so many Americans associate with bullfighting is flawed - they think, poor bull is going to die. But really what we all should be thinking is poor bull being teased and egged on while the city's fans cheer on its killer. The bull dies, yes, and it's arguably killed more justly than the cows that are keeping Five Guys in business.


It's a tough subject, but again, I think there are bigger problems in the world than bullfighting throughout the world. It's the type of injustice that I have no control over; no matter what I say the corridas del toro will still go on in Sevilla.


It's quite the spectacle. And really, the "spectacle" is what bothers me. When the matadors do an exceptionally good job, they get to keep one of the ears of the bull. The audience responds by cheering at the end and waving white handkerchiefs.

Spectators wave white handkerchiefs to symbolize the ear of the bull.

He's channeling his inner Dexter Morgan - just replace the ear with a slide of blood.

There were six bulls and three matadors. Music plays, beers are tossed around and people gasp and marvel at the art they see in bullfighting. Here are just a few pictures, if you really want a play by play just read Wikipedia. Or go to a bullfight yourself. I was lucky to be with Antonio (My señor? Let's call him my señora's husband instead.) because he's a huge fan of the corridas and was able to tell me every detail I asked.

I'd be that precise in my moves too if my pants were that tight.

And the bull is paraded around the ring after it drops to its knees (it literally drops). 

Saturday I went to Almaden de la Plata, a small town in the country about 40 miles outside Sevilla. It's amazing how short of a distance you can drive to find such a strikingly different landscape. 

My friend Mary Anne drove us out there, primarily to see a friend and the house he is selling. And what a beautiful house it was - complete with an amazing view of the road that peregrinos (pilgrims) take to Santiago in the north. He was more than hospitable, having irish coffee, tea and surprise! la cola del toro (bull tail) with rice waiting for us as we returned from our rainy hike. Funny that I was at the corrida the day before and then trying a Spanish delicacy of bull meat. Not too delicious by my standards, but the Andalucians love it. 


To top off this weekend just saturated with spanish-ness, I made paella with my señora for Sunday's lunch. It's super easy, except I found out a bit how it gets its distinct flavor aside from spices: shrimp skin and heads.

After beheading the shrimp and peeling the skin, boil the remains in water and let it simmer.

Sideways? Mince garlic, onion, tomatos and peppers and let it sizzle in olive oil.

And after adding the seafood to the veggies, add the rice and dashes of spices like paprika and saffron.

Instead of just plain water, use the water where the shrimp boiled. Strain the bodies, of course, and let the paella cook for 25 minutes. Don't forget to add lemon at the end!

I'm really lucky to have a señora that allows me in her kitchen and lets me see what she does 60% of her day. I hope I can cook like she does, and have the enthusiasm that she does about cooking Mediterranean foods. I will not be like her, however, and iron my husband's socks and undies. Sorry baby.

I will be like my mother

I'm a pretty shitty blogger. I am sure, however, that I said in January that this will not be a daily diary (I would never subject anyone to reading any kind of diary I could possibly write). Perhaps I waited a week to write about my recent trip with my mom because I was so overcome with how refreshing, warm and eye-opening it was (I promise no sarcasm).


I have gone long periods of time without seeing my mom, but these three months were definitely the longest. There's something to be said about having the ability to just pick up the phone and call her, even if it's to say a simple hello I love you or to spend 20 minutes complaining, which usually leads to another 20 minutes of her reminding me I'm a normal human being. That said, what a moment it was to hug her after such a long time.


We are fortunate in that we've already traveled in Spain together. When people asked me why my mom wasn't coming to Spain, I felt like a huge brat saying we've already been, but what gives? I'm a fortunate kid. We decided on Germany and Denmark - two places we had both never been.


Berlin is an evolving city. After a great walking tour, I started to think a lot about how new the city is; the Wall came down less than 25 years ago. Yet, one can still feel a divide between east and west Berlin. Nonetheless, the city is a metropolis that is easy to navigate (I first spelled this as "navegate." So much Spanish is making me forget English.) and rich with a whole host of ethnicities.


I mean this in the most sincere way, but this time with my mom was probably the most Jewish 10 days I've had since I left the United States. After a delicious brunch (brunch!!) we went to the Jewish Museum, which is incredibly well-done. Some parts felt tacky (seeing people taking pictures of a torah in a glass case was quite the spectacle) but its design is brilliant. What I liked most were the random empty spaces (voids) in the museum, meant to symbolize parts of time where Jews weren't present. 

A memorial in one of the voids with iron faces, meant to recognize those affected by war.

Berlin also has a Holocaust memorial that you can interpret how you wish. 

Statues in front of the Jewish cemetery, now just patches of green as it was destroyed by the Nazis.

Aside from the shameful history that Germany has and the permeating grey that surrounds Berlin, the city is full of life. On our way to brunch (again!! brunch!!) one day we saw a 5K going on with a live band cheering runners on. My mom also had the opportunity to see a bulldog puppy for the first time, and yes that is an experience. Charlottenburg Palace was also a destination. After a failed attempt to go to a modern art museum that turned out to be closed for renovations, we just waltzed across the street to find Frederick III's humble abode.

Golden dancing room lined with mirrors so couples could see themselves floating around the room.

Everything adorned in gold - mostly flower petals being spread around by one of the Greek gods on either side of the room.

Twas chilly. Also I swear no one knows how to take a picture that is focused.

I could have spent days in Berlin shopping - KaDeWe is such a beautiful store. Killer selection of Jelly Belly's (and shoes). One of my older sisters said that out of most of the places she's been in Europe, she could see herself living in Berlin the most. I'm not sure I would choose to live there, but Berlin certainly is trying to lure people in (even though the city is experiencing quite the drop in population). It's not exactly a charmer, but it is kitschy. Boutiques, independent restaurants and a strong young adult culture suggest the city is full of people with ambition to take away the lack of pride associated with being German. 

Nice white shoes, Aimee. East Berlin Gallery.

Cheesy picture in front of the Brandenburg gate.

 And then we were off to Copenhagen. I'm a tad obsessed with the city. My friend Josh (click his name and check out his blog - he does really cool stuff) is studying there however he was off in the mountains while we were there. He did send me a great email, though, with a little city orientation and fun spots to check out. 

Gorgeous gourmet market by our hotel in Norreport with a great selection of...everything. I want to go to there.

The most decadent hot cocoa I've had in my life: basically a scoop of fudge mixed with hot milk, topped with cocoa and cinnamon. 

First thing: all danes own bikes. They probably own more than one, because as I learned it's likely one will be stolen at some point in your life. Everyone bikes everywhere, like Madison bike lanes the first week of class in fall on crack times 5,000.

We also had our share of Jews in Copenhagen, having dinner with a Jewish family as well as attending a passover seder. I could write an entire entry about that seder. Danish, English, Hebrew, dancing, an unconventional setting...it was an experience. Though the population of progressive Jews is small, they proved to be creative in their seder. 

One of the best parts of Copenhagen is the variety of architecture and natural scenery that surrounds you. In the city it's a complete mix of modern and old, as Danes are famous for design, however will never replace the city's original buildings. Buildings like the Black Diamond Royal Library and the Opera House showcase the modernity that the city boasts along with a rich, Nordic history. 

We took the train north to see the Louisiana Museum, a modern art museum outside the city. Though it was quite chilly (probably 30 degrees Fahrenheit), we sat outside to each lunch because the warmth of the sun was just the medicine we needed from the rain in Berlin. And how could you not want to sit outside when this is the view:

Could this pass for Lake Michigan...?

Pretty mommy. 

The museum is set in a residential neighborhood, and if you look across the water you can see Mälmo, Sweden. Going through the museum you can't help but notice how Danish the design is, combining the architectural aesthetic of the building with the landscape and setting. And some inspiration from modern artists is always nice.

I believe the best way to get to know a city is just to get your bearings. Yes, seeing what there is to see is essential, but walking around and simply observing what you see around you is the way to really interpret where you are. For me it's difficult to identify the perfection that I see in Copenhagen; I may not be blonde or have huge blue eyes but I can see myself living a fairly content life here. Not that I'm packing up my bags and jetting up to Scandinavia after I graduate, but I can imagine.

After drinking that outrageous hot cocoa, feeling like 300 pounds.

I just have the feeling that in Copenhagen, they've discovered the secret to living well. God knows what it is. Not just riding your bike and eating rye bread blah blah blah, but you see people with their friends, and they look so happy. I don't know if I'd call Danes welcoming and warm, but they certainly are nice. Copenhagen felt a little like magic: with the perfect combination of people, scenery, intellect, and dark chocolate, it's a wonderful life. Joel can probably attest too. 

Looking back I saw that I titled this post "I will be like my mother" because I totally will. With her knack for taking everything for what its worth and more, her curiosity for life and her unconditional love, I feel like I have everything to look forward to later in life. And she loves dessert. But really - to have a mom as caring, generous and thoughtful as she is, of course I miss her. Though it was terribly hard to say goodbye, I am thankful to know I can have an honest conversation with her and I feel safe.

We're a great wandering pair.

My weekend reeked of Spain. Look forward to more of my nonsense in a few days about paella, senderismo, and bullfighting.