Essence of Essaouira

Salt-swept sun-soaked facades line the dirt paths of Essaouira. The wind at times whispers and at times whips through the streets. Against the white stripped walls are stark shades of blue, young and old, painted on every surface: doors, window panes, awnings, table cloths, chairs, gates, clothes.

Even before the eye falters from the blinding light, the nose takes over. Smells waft from alleyways. On Ave de l'Istiqlal, salty grilled seafood; Rue de la Skala, curries; Place Moulay Hassan, baked sweets. The scents linger like hawkers from the Souks pushing their wares, "Scarves? You like? Nice price. Come, look, see."

The wind dominates conversation, muting sounds other than its own. When the wind stops, the hush of heat reigns.

Essaouira is a beautiful, magical place. A city of cheap seafood, slowed pace of living, wind, and sea. Full of food for the senses. I am in love with the essence of Essaouira.

Ohayogozaimasu Marrakech

Pop quiz: where in the world can you hear more Japanese than in Japan?

Answer: as an Asian in Marrakesh

The last few days in Marrakesh have been a melding pot of dusty roads, various Asian languages (all the street vendors seem to know some Japanese, Chinese, Korean, you name it, that they willingly test out on a passing Asian tourist), trinket lined walls, and deliciously fragrant foods. A very hot melding pot. The temperature the day we arrived was 46 degrees Celsius, or 116 degrees Fahrenheit.

R and I spent yesterday wandering the streets and popping into a few touristy locations - palaces, tombs, plazas. We also wandered into the souk, and wandered and wandered. The souk is a labyrinth of shops and vendors that has to be experienced to be believed. In the evening we had a (unintentionally) romantic dinner at Pepe Nero, a swanky Moroccon-Italian restaurant.

Today we took a different approach, a full day dedicated to cooking! I'll let the images explain how that went.

We started off by blind-identifying all of the spices by smell
I would say R and I failed that

I've got Ray Ban Vision... I-I-I can't see, I-I-I-I can't see
Sharpied out raybans for blind smell tests

The cooking station with a traditional tagine pot and spices

R can't handle the amount of fun he's having

Our veal with artichoke, lemon, and peas tagine
(Mine on the left, R's on the right)

The whole shebang - we made the bread and tagine
Both were yums

Two interesting tidbits. One, another student (out of five) was also a recent Harvard graduate now working at BCG Boston. Two, nutmeg is 20x as effective as cocaine. 20x the high, 20x the crash.

Espana! Espana!

Last night R and I walked by the Mushroom structure in Seville (I forget its official name) and were surprised to find an incredibly long line. Intrigued and struck with a severe case of FOMO (fear of missing out), we waited in line for what seemed like an entire hour to get up the stairs and into the platform underneath the mushroom.

The wait, however, was worth it. There was a giant projection of the Spain vs Portugal game and hundreds of people squished together watching. The smell of cannabis in the air and crushed cans and cups of alcohol under my feet made me feel like I was back at Electric Daisy Carnival. Every other minute groups of people were chanting or cheering; it was what sport spirit should feel like.

The best part was when we first entered and a guy stopped R and pulled out a Spanish facepaint stick - red on two sides and yellow in the middle. He drew on R's left cheek, and before R could respond, gave him a kiss on the right. As he walked away he constantly looked back giving R a few waves.

Spain won the match in penalty shoot outs and the crowd went crazy. A great way to end a day in Seville.

The Mushrooms on a normal day

The line was super long! It stretched out way behind this

But we had ways to make the wait more entertaining

Ah, finally we're in. A couple of beers to celebrate

Spain's doing well

Richard and his Spanish spirit gear + newly acquired face paint

Battle of Alhambra

Today, the troops of Marukat stormed Alhambra. The search for an entrance was difficult, but after a strategic retreat and re-cooperation at a nearby hostel, we soon resumed our march. The climb was steep and the lines were long, but eventually we penetrated the Moorish palace's defenses.

Once inside, things became hot and steamy. The rewards were many as we went from chamber to chamber viewing the Alhambra's many architectural wonders. The palaces stood largely untouched by Spanish influence (only lots of Spanish tourists).

Beautifully ornate ceiling (bigger version in other room)
Looks like upside-down cathedrals

Hallway surrounding an open courtyard

Wall detail with gorgeous ornamentation
Certainly something AT would like!

At the climax of our conquest we reached the pinnacle of the Alhambra. From the highest turret we could see all of Granada with its washed-out white facades and identical rooftops. Victory was sweet.

The green of the Alhambra at the center
of a white washed city

As we walked out of the Alhambra, tired but satisfied, I thought I might go onto Wikipedia and research her past a bit more. Am I starting to get attached? This was only supposed to be a one day deal.

You won this battle, Alhambra, you won.

Trigger happy

The past few days have been a feast for the eyes. I'm sure that all the reaching for the camera will become a compulsive habit soon enough. Although this is my last day in Barcelona, the visual imagery will last me for a long time. It's too bad that images can barely do experience justice.

Gaudi's works - all extremely interesting.
This one reminds me of rage faces.

Inside the Gothic Cathedral. Absolutely breath-taking

Creeper picture of a couple enjoying the view from Mont Juic 

Even the Modern Art building itself was a work of art

Setting sunlight reflecting off Olympic stadium

Detail shot with R

Last night I had a taste of true Spanish revelry. After the Spain-France Euro Cup match, where Spain won 2-0, R and I took 2 steps over from the bar to the beach. (There was another bar and tequila in there somewhere - tequila being the foreshadowing for a good time) The beach, due to the celebration, became a mine field of sparklers and even full blown fireworks. Inebriated, we found ourselves going to the one safe zone - the ocean!

Thoroughly soaked, we headed home. Sometimes leaving the camera behind is a good idea. 

Barthhhalona!

RL and I arrived in Barcelona on Tuesday evening - one ~20 hr plane ride, a 7 hour bus ride, and many time-zone-disorienting naps later. We celebrated by getting going to an Irish bar (cultural immersion, one step at a time) and watching the England vs. Ukraine Euro Cup match. I only seem to watch soccer outside of the US.

An Irish bar obviously calls for Irish car bombs. Except... the waitress had NO CLUE how to make them and instead asked me.
"Um... a cup of Guinness, one part Baileys, and one part Jameson" I responded, bartender in the making. The result:

That night RL and I wandered around, lost in the streets of the Barri Gotic (Gothic Quarter). Luckily we had played a detective game on the DS earlier and used our new-found observation skills to piece our way back.
"No, not down that street. There's an Adidas, I would have recognized such an iconic American brand" (we were wrong, we just didn't see the Adidas before)
"Oh, Caixia, that I recognize, let's go this way" (an extremely common bank, it turns out, but we were right this time)
"Hey, this weird chain structure... it looks familiar"
"That's because we just stumbled on the same one 2 minutes ago!"
and so on. Somehow, we found our way home.

-------

A surprise around every corner

Barcelona's many pedestrian only walkways make for an intricate maze. Businesses are forced to be smaller, confined to the buildings created back when Barcelona was its own country. Meandering, it seems, is a way of life. Somehow, throughout all of Wednesday, we managed to walk by all the places we noticed while lost on Tuesday.
The days have been relaxing. Not waking up past noon, siestas in the late afternoon and fiestas at night. We're like the even lazier versions of the typical Spaniards.


A couple more photos of what we've been up to:

Sneakily touching 2000 year old excavated wine jugs

Eating delicious Paella by the beach

Finding out that Barcelona beaches are very liberal
and rather topless (not pictured)

Birthday Wishes from Past Kat

Today I received birthday wishes from everyone (and an awesome surprise party put on by R & A, so happy! Didn't realize I had so many great friends that I shared hilarious/embarrassing/amazing memories with), including myself. To be more specific, an email from 18 year old Kat who was about to graduate from high school.

She (I?) made predictions about the future. Most of them have not (yet?) come true. The email was long, but it ended on a hopeful note:

I could ramble on forever but I'm sure you're tired of hearing from your 18 year old self. How old are you now... 22? Good grief, old fart (:

I hope you haven't done anything illegal or anything you really regret. Life has been good, and life will continue to be good if you let it. So don't ever give up. Because you have 18 - now 22 years of self interest invested in YOU. Don't let that go to waste.

I believe in you.

They all do.

It's 12:16 and mother has turned off the shower water. She's probably going to walk in and yell at me for not going to sleep earlier - we're going hiking tomorrow after all. Oh, there goes the door. I guess it's time to call it a wrap.

MEAT forever (:

Peace, love, & canker sores.

Kathleen Tang, age 18
June 8, 2008

PS. Happy birthday!