Turkish delight on a moonlit night

Ok, so we did spend the entire trip singing this song. But we did stil manage to see and experience all of Istanbul.

We arrived on Friday night and after a techno-filled 80 mph shuttle van ride, arrived at our hostel. We stayed in Sultanhamet, arguably the most touristy part of the city. Istanbul is enormous and home to almost 3,000 mosques, though the most famous are clustered in one area.

We checked out the area briefly, but went to bed pretty

early in order to prepare ourselves for our sightseeing blitz.

We started Saturday at the Blue Mosque (also known as the

Sultanhamet Mosque). Depending on the time of day, it really does look blue. Its other noteworthy feature is that it has six minarets, as opposed to the typical two or four. Compared to the cities I've been visiting in Western Europe all semester, with their Gothic churches and Roman architecture, this looked other

worldly. The mosque is enormous, but was built in only seven years.

(Comparatively, Barcelona hasn't even finished its famous

cathedral.)

After the Blue Mosque, we walked across the street to an even larger structure: The Ayasofya. Originally the Hagia Sophia church of Constantinople, it became the Ayasofya Mosque after the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Now it's just a museum, but signs of both religions are very present throughout the entire building.

Strange note: Istanbul is filled with an extraordinary number of stray cats and we saw an unbelievable number of them inside both

landmarks. Tourists were happy to take their picture though.

We concluded the epic morning with a visit to the cisterns.

Once upon a time, the underground water supply was used by the entire city. When it's functionality became obsolete, someone had the brilliant idea to turn it into a basilica. Talk about creepy.

After a stop for some döner and baklava, we headed for the harbor.

On the way, we made a pit stop at the Egyptian Spice Bazaar, which is filled with (like the name implies) spices. Each stall also features its own unique variety of Turkish delight.

My only reference for the treat is its appearance in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, so we had to try some. It tastes vaguely like a marshmallow, though the chewiness quotient depends on the flavor. The verdict is that I'm ambiguous. We did, however, encounter innumerable types of nuts and dried fruit, so I was pretty happy.

Snacks in hand, we took the ferry to Asia. There really isn't much on the Asian side of the city (if anything, it's a lot less touristy), but we wanted to at least say that we set foot on two continents in one day. We explored the area surrounding one of the ferry stops, and then started to make our way to the other harbor. We asked for directions in a bookstore and they advised us to take either a bus or a dolmus, a group taxi. I had read about the dolmus and so knew they were totally safe (and probably a better idea than normal cabs, which require a little haggling). The bus didn't seem to be coming any time soon, and the taxis were going directly from one harbor to the other, so the four of us piled in (claiming the back row).

It wasn't entirely clear how one was supposed to pay, or WHAT one was supposed to pay, so the other passengers helped us out. It also wasn't exactly clear when one was supposed to exit the taxi. The driver would open the sliding door, people would hop out, and that was that. We figured we'd know when to get out. Not so much. After driving around for a minute with the door open and us still in the taxi, the driver yelled "GET OUT." So we did. Onto an island in the middle of traffic. The other dolmus drivers seemed pretty amused by us.

We made it back to Europe safe and sound.

On Sunday, the weather was a little bit of a deterrent, but we were still able to visit the enormous Topkapi Palace. On our way, we stopped for simit — a food item sold on the streets for a dollar that looks and tastes an awful lot like a sesame bagel. On the palace grounds are multiple prayer areas, ramps so the sultan can be carried and an entire building for swords and jewels. The old royal garments were also displayed and we were in shock over how large they were. I guess the ramps and the delicious Ottoman cuisine might be explanations.

Speaking of cuisine, we became very well acquainted with baklava while on our trip. In particular, with one particular shop (we managed to visit multiple branches). The shopkeeper was so impressed by our group dynamic (one boy to three girls) that he insisted on taking a picture with the three of us. We suspect it may be up on their wall pretty soon. Jeremy got a lot of street cred for traveling with us — he got called a Sultan and was asked by a restaurant proprietor if he could have one of us. The catcalls — though more verbal than Barcelona's "hola guapa" — didn't really feel all that threatening. They really were just amusing. Restaurant managers will say anything to try and get you to sit down. Though the non-creative opt for the "Yes please, yes please," notable solicitations we got included: "You're so beautiful you can't be real," "You're so beautiful but you would look even nicer at my table," and a rousing rendition of "Don't you wish your boyfriend was hot like me?"

We encountered the greatest amount of haggling and catcalling during our all-day visit to the Grand Bazaar on Monday. Home to over 4,000 stalls (plus countless street stalls outside), it makes for one of the more intense shopping experiences I've ever had. We bargained with the best of them. One merchant even thought I was Turkish, but figured out that was not the case when I didn't respond to his comments. (We had already concluded I was the most Turkish looking of the group, but that's really not saying much.) Scarves, pottery, earrings, tea glasses, leather coats and fez in hand, we emerged hours later (an exit caused largely by the collective lack of funds).

We left Istanbul at the alarming hour of 3 am on Tuesday (6:30 am flight, but infrequently running shuttles). However, we were flying real airlines (a nice change from Vueling and Ryannair), so there was a lot of coffee to help us make it through. The trip was unbelievable, but now I have to return to the grind. Two weeks and counting, and a whole semester's worth of course work to reteach myself before then. Yikes!

—

Also, if you made it this far (I admittedly just wrote a brief novel) and still want more to read, check this out. 120: You are beautiful. I cannot wait for January.

NONCLERICAL CLANDESTINE COMRADES

Barcelona's been getting in the holiday spirit for weeks — the streets are filled with decorations and Onix is tastefully lit — but tonight we took it one step further. After some intense Google research (thank you Boogspace.com) and mild harassment of the CASBers, our very own secular secret Santa has been launched. Stay tuned as the mystery unfolds...

My, how the time flies

It's really hard to believe, but today marks the T-3 weeks countdown. It's not as though I feel like we got here yesterday, but it still feels strange to be nearing the end. It's also weird because suddenly, we have serious homework. Most of our classes boil down to one final — mine count for 40, 50, 80 and 100 percent of my grades — and so crunch time is no joke. On the other hand, now is the time when I feel like I should be taking in as much Barcelona as possible. To reconcile these two conflicting needs, I've been trying to find cafes with Internet and other creative solutions. What's nice is that even though doom is looming, I have five full days after my finals end and before I have to leave. I already have a list going of all the things I want to try and cram in. (Suggestions are welcome!)

But first I have my final travel hurrah — also my longest, farthest and most exotic trip. Both Sunday and Tuesday are holidays, so Monday is counted as the puente, or bridge, so we have a full five days to travel. I'm heading east to Istanbul, where I'll get to be on two continents at once (not to mention four countries in five days (we have connecting flights, I'll argue that counts)). In the attempts of making a political statement of some sort, the Barcelona Public Library filed the "Turquia" travel books in the Asia section PLUS I get my first passport stamp of the semester. I think I can say with some authority that this trip will be quite different than any of my others this semester.

ALSO...

...how can it POSSIBLY be December already?

Let our people go!

UAB is consistently covered in posters and spray painting, usually protesting anything and everything. As standing up for your rights tends to go hand in hand with the local anarchist spirit, most of the signs are in Catalan, limiting my understanding of what exactly is being objected to. One thing we see all the time though are signs arguing against "Bolonya." (Which translates to mean the Italian city of Bologna.)

After doing some research into what this meant (Paige blogged about it a while ago), we unearthed a massive European educational controversy. The Bologna Model refers to the method of schooling most similar to what we're accustomed to: standardized material with frequent assessments. In some of my classes here, the only work I have the entire semester is the final exam. (You're allowed to retake it if you fail, in most cases. Under Bologna this would not be true.) Though Bologna is not an EU initiative, most EU countries are signed on (including Spain), and the idea is that credits will transfer more smoothly from country to country (and just generally make more sense when people cross borders).

At the schools we're attending, only some classes have started to Bologna-ize. (A few of my friends have the lucky opportunity to take midterms and do homework assignments.) As you might imagine, the Spanish students are furious. The sidewalks of UAB are covered in graffiti and it's not unusual to hear someone yell something about "Bolonya" at a random moment.

Today in my Contemporary Political Institutions class (this is where I get most educated about Spanish educational practices), the professor opened class by acknowledging Thursday's potential strike. The students are unhappy with the changes occurring around them, so of course they strike! He said he was planning to still hold class, but would put it to a vote, so that way the few students who showed up wouldn't be punished. (Thank you!) Obviously the class voted to cancel class. But not just so they can take the afternoon off — they all started yelling about marching and protesting and making sure the Spanish government (who run UAB) knows how they feel.

I'm not entirely sure I agree with my classmates, but God bless them for trying...

Bonjour mon ami!

This year, I got to celebrate Thanksgiving overlooking the Seine with a side of French bread. Not too shabby.

I met my cousins in Paris on Thursday and enjoyed a delicious (and very legitimate, thanks to my aunt's cranberry imports and fantastic cooking) dinner. Everyone around us may have been speaking French and the only parades we saw were museum workers on strike (seriously), but we still enjoyed all the American classics.

We spent Friday at Versailles, exploring the decadent bedrooms, the unbelievable Hall of Mirrors and the sprawling gardens. Everything just felt so French. (Yet another language barrier could have been a part of that. However, my conversational Catalan was actually helpful. I'm debating if I should list it as a "Skill" on my resume.)

On Saturday we made our way through the gigantic Musee D'Orsay, focusing on the Impressionist wings (my favorite part). It would have been impossible to see everything — the converted train station is filled with five floors worth of art. We were lucky that we could even go into the museum — one of the other major attractions (Centre Pompidou) was striking, and rumor has it that all the other museums will be too.

We braved the elements and hit the pavement to stroll the Parisian streets (and admire all of the beautiful stores). The window displays even look prettier in France.

It was a brief trip, but I had a great time — and considering I wasn't stateside, it was really nice to be with family for Turkey Day.

I made it back to Barcelona just in time for "El Clasico" — the epic fútbol match-up between FC Barcelona and Real Madrid. We started scoping out a place to watch at 6 or so (game time was 7) and found every bar, restaurant and cafe in the city to be PACKED. Apparently no one watches from home. We managed to squeeze our way into the pizza place across the street and watched Barca eke out a 1-0 win (despite a ton of violence from both sides).

Today at Mar Bella, almost every single one of my kids had on a Barcelona jersey — just in case there was any question about whose side they were on.

Happy Turkey Day!

It was strange yesterday when I was giving a presentation to the kids at Mar Bella, asked if they knew what holiday tomorrow was, and looked out onto a crowd of blank stares. I suddenly realized that Thanksgiving really was today and that I had seen no turkeys on display or commercials for the parade. I'm lucky that I still get to celebrate the day with family — I'm in the airport now, about to jet off to Paris — but it's definitely srtange to be outside the states today, and to not be having the same Thanksgiving dinner I've had for years.

On the plus side: traveling here has been incredibly easy.