The first of many to come...welcome to my new home

 Hello Everyone! Before I begin, I would like to mention that this blog is entirely a product of the advice of two very very wise women in my life- Viviane and Jane.  Normally this is nothing that I would attempt on my own, as I don't really see myself as the "blogging type", but I must admit that I do see it's merits.  I will say right off the bat, however, that none of my posts will be of the "hi guys! It's me again- the girl on the road. Day 4 of 165 of my European adventure.  Seaward bound and no looking back!" type. I prefer something less dramatic.  I would like to begin also by saying that for anyone who has worries about my being in Spain, so far from home, do not worry any longer. I am in love with Alicante, and with living in a foreign country as opposed to being a tourist in a foreign country.  The difference is really quite dramatic. 

The picture above is the view from our Castillo de Santa Barbara- a relic of the Muslim occupation of Spain and truly a sight to behold. I have climbed it three times now (no easy task), and can say without at doubt that it offers the most incredible view of our city.  As a side note, it is much more enjoyable to behold after you have run up the mountain. Primarily because your run is over.  There are etchings on the stone from prisoners of war during the end of Franco's era (1977) and it is so strange to think that there was a European land holding their own people hostage above the city during a Fascist regime as recently as the 1970s.  Having spoken to my "madre' (from Spain- name Esther) about the times of Franco it was strikingly similar to Nazi germany- no divorce, they couldn't speak any dialects of Spanish other than Castellano (what I speak now), and there was no freedom in music, religion, anything. I have learned so much from her.  Another interesting fact about the castle is that 60+ year old spanish women take it upon themselves to make casual strolls up to the summit in heels, corduroys, scarves, and very warm jackets.  Not to mention full make up.  I have yet to understand what about Spanish DNA makes their women so capable of making that trek...while smoking cigarettes.  I suppose that is something I will learn at a later date.  (There was a new law passed about no smoking in any public places that is far and away the least respected piece of legislature I have ever witnessed). 

A few cultural notes: the siesta does indeed live on in Spain, but not to the extent we think in the States.  They usually close some stores from 3-6 and older men will take 20 minute naps, but the three hour power nap (which I have proudly perfected) is largely a tool implemented by American students studying abroad.  Although I did see a man sitting in a tractor in full construction garb taking a siesta the other day around 2pm...Other side notes: most people smoke, wine is not in fact consumed at every meal, and I think a requirement of being a spanish citizen is that you consume at least one loaf of French bread per day.  Also, spanish babies somehow are cuter than any child I have ever laid eyes on in the states.  Actually, all Spaniards are generally attractive and I think I have seen a total of 3 obese people in the past three weeks.  One of my professors, in fact, a 20 something Spaniard, is probably the only reason I will work tirelessly to do well in my Politics and Terrorism class.  Finally, Spain as a whole has an unreal awareness of current events worldwide, and Spaniards generally think that Americans are self-absorbed and ignorant about the world around them. I must admit that at times I think I agree with them.

Well, I will post more later but I am off to meet friends of mine for Sangria before we head out for the night.  I plan on making it a tradition to end my posts with a "word of the day" for my American family back home. Today's? "Chungo." It means "sketchy." As in, "I hope these Americans don't lag behind in this neighborhood because it is muy chungo". 

Much love to you all and I will write again soon!

Case