#preshco

[5handsinturkey]

#facultaddefilosofiayletras #patios #uco #cordoba #preshco https://www.instagram.com/p/BotmzJIgwgZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=60hrrb7co85k

[seniorsmithie-blog]

No Pasa Nada: Mi semestre en Córdoba

Exactly a month ago today, I returned home from my semester abroad in Córdoba, Spain, traveling with Smith’s Programa de Estudios Hispánicos en Córdoba, or simply PRESHCO. I can’t believe it’s already been a month; while I am happy to be back in Northampton, I miss my host family, my wonderful friends, and traveling around Spain’s cities and landscapes dearly.

The first photo I took in Spain, overlooking the walled city of Ávila, on the way to Salamanca.

For the most part, Smith requires that students who wish to attend programs in a non-English speaking country take two years of the language before leaving, or up to level 220. I had taken Spanish all through high school, so the summer before I arrived at Smith, I took an online placement test and was recommended to start at SPN 220. I took that course the spring semester of my first year and then afterwards just kind of... stopped. Other things interested me more at the time, and I didn’t think I would be going abroad to a Spanish-speaking country. However, midway through my sophomore year, I came to regret this decision and lamented this to a professor. She suggested I meet with Lisa Johnson, one of the directors of the Lewis Global Studies Center, who then told me that my experience in SPN 220 qualified me to go to Spain! I took SPN 230 the fall semester of my junior year as a brush-up, and then in January, I was Córdoba-bound! I tell this story to say that it’s really never too late, and you should always investigate all your options, even if you think one has passed you by.

PRESHCO is run jointly by Smith and Wellesley College (yay Seven Sisters!), with students from Oberlin, Colby, and a few other schools attending. The program is wonderful for many reasons, chief of which is the amount of travel they sponsor. When we landed in Madrid, we then embarked as a group on a ten-day tour of Salamanca, Segovia, Madrid, Toledo, and Barcelona before heading down south to Córdoba. While this was a little overwhelming at times, I am so glad I got to see these important Spanish cities that were a little far from me (about three to seven hours, depending on the train you took). The program also took us on weekend excursions to Granada and Consuegra, which inspired Cervantes while writing Don Quixote! In addition to all that, PRESHCO also gives each student 450 euros in cultural reimbursement funds, which can be used on anything in Spain. Using these funds, I went to cities like Valencia (futuristic architecture!), Málaga (so many museums!), and Cádiz (the beach!). In total, I visited 15 cities in Spain, giving me a great appreciation for Spanish history and culture as well as the differences between different regions.

My friend Sara and I in front of the panorama of Barcelona

But of course, I wasn’t in Spain just to travel. I was there to practice my Spanish, and this was helped exponentially by living with a host family. I lived with my host mom Keni, her son, and her adorable little dog, along with one other PRESHCO student. Keni was an incredible host to both of us, making a great effort to get to know us (en español, claro!) and make sure we were comfortable in her home. She even took us to Sevilla one weekend to visit her family! Through conversations at the dinner table, I learned a lot about Spanish politics, values, and the like, and though I didn’t always agree with everything, it was such a valuable learning experience to get a glimpse of Spanish home life.

Keni, my roomie/friend Elise, and I the afternoon of our departure. I was crying a little underneath those sunglasses.

In terms of academics, I enrolled in three classes run by PRESHCO and then directly enrolled in one at the Universidad de Córdoba with other Spanish students. That class was a little difficult at times, with both the language barrier and a very different style of teaching than what I am used to at Smith (I was in a lecture hall with 80 other students!). But there were two other PRESHCO students in the class with me, and our professor was very understanding and accommodating of us as American students. Outside of academics, the program offered cultural activities we could participate in. Sevillanas dance classes were very popular, as was flamenco guitar. If you had another interest, the program made a great effort to find a way for you to participate. For example, one of my friends joined the chorus at the local music conservatory, and another joined their jazz group. Other girls joined the UCO soccer (or fútbol!) team.

Brooke and I strike a Sevillanas pose.

But what I miss most about Spain is the way of life, the no pasa nada attitude. Afternoon siestas were totally acceptable, and it was almost expected that you would meet up with friends for coffee or churros at least once a day. Small explorations were standard fare, whether looking for a new park, visiting the beautiful flower-filled patios, or wandering the narrow streets of the Judería. Spain encouraged me to slow down and take in what was happening around me, and as a result I made strong friendships in the program that I know will last for a long time.

Córdoba from the top of the famous Mezquita.

There’s so much more to my experience that I didn’t write here, but I don’t want this post to become even more of a novel than it already is. If you have any more questions about PRESHCO, Spain, or study abroad in general, do not hesitate to send me an ask! ¡Nos vemos pronto!

[elisecordoblog]

Day 5: The Spain We See

A few hours ago, I came back to the hotel from el Museo Nacional de la Reina Sofia, where I saw Picasso’s magnum opus, “Guernica.” It absolutely lived up to all the praise I had heard about it. But it wasn’t the Guernica alone that inspired me tonight; it was in an exhibit filled with pieces from the Spanish Civil War, and seeing the big picture of the War through the eyes of so many artists made me think about how I’ve been seeing other moments in Spanish history throughout this trip.

One of the paintings in that exhibit was called, in English, “The Spain They Don’t Want You To Know About.” (I tried Googling it and couldn’t find it, unfortunately.) It shows a large truck driving through the Spanish countryside with men inside, presumably soldiers, brandishing their rifles. The exhibit also showed a newsreel from the War that showed graphic images of bombings and dead women and children. Every piece in the hall was a snapshot of a period that, as I learned in my Culturas De España class last semester, Spaniards today are very uncomfortable talking about.

Of course, that discomfort makes sense. Why constantly relive such a traumatic moment in a nation’s history, especially when the people who are old enough to remember its fascist aftermath are at least as old as my parents? But at the same time, at least there’s an acknowledged common pain that Spain feels from the War. What surprises me (looking at Spanish history as an outsider, obviously) is that there isn’t a similar discomfort with other parts of Spanish history that, to me, seem pretty painful.

So, what is the Spain they want us to know about? It’s the Spain I’ve been seeing so far: the cobblestone roads and grand cathedral of Toledo, the ornate legacy of the monarchy in the Palacio Real, the remnants of Roman aqueducts in Segovia, the high culture and academia of Salamanca. The Spain we see is one where antiquity is celebrated, where the classics are revered, where history is preserved... and distorted. Often the tour guides present Spanish history as “first the Romans came, then the Visigoths, then the Muslims invaded/took over/[some word lets you really know the land was taken by force], and then the Catholics re-conquered Spain,” almost as if to be Muslim is not to be Spanish. There’s a lot of cognitive dissonance here; the Spain we see also celebrates how for a good 300 years, Muslims and Jews and Christians got along fine under Muslim rulers. But then you tour the castles and palaces, old and new, and the Reyes Católicos, Isabel and Fernando — rulers who exiled the Jewish population, stole Granada’s most gorgeous palace, tortured and interrogated non-Catholics, and funded Christopher Columbus’s trip to the Americas — are glorified. Not just recognized as historically important rulers, but held up as the ones who saved Spain. Who successfully RE-conquered a nation.

I live in a post World War II world where I know that war should not be glorified. It’s become ingrained in me that civilian casualties are never acceptable and diplomacy is always, with no exceptions, the best first option. The Guernica, and the pieces surrounding it, confirmed that core belief for me today, and it also confirmed that the civilians, the soldiers, and all the people struggling on the home front have stories that must be told.

Why don’t we see, say, the Reconquista this way? Where’s the art about the soldiers who lost their lives defending Al-Andalus? Where are the stories of civilians caught in the crossfire between Christian and Muslim armies? Where are the monuments to the Sephardim who defended their faith in the face of expulsion from the nation they called home? Why is the narrative so focused on the victorious royals — not the people suffering as they tried to simply make a living? 

I’m sure there are places where I can find these conversations and stories from these silenced voices. But it still baffles me how even recent history in Spain is a part of the Spain we (tourists) don’t see. Since arriving here, I never saw a hint about Spain in the 20th century until looking at the Guernica today; hell, it even took some digging for me to find out there is a museum commemorating Spain’s transition from fascism to democracy (in Ávila, actually, so maybe that’s a feasible day trip from Córdoba). Maybe it’s because I’m from the United States, but I’m shocked that the statues I see here are for conquistadors and kings, not the framers of Spain’s 1978 Constitution, or the generals who bravely fought fascism during the Civil War, or any famous orators or organizers from the past century. Doesn’t Spain have some equivalent to Dr. King?

But then again, (a) Spain is not the United States, and I won’t get very far by expecting it to be, and (b) perhaps the monuments aren’t built yet because of how recent their history as a democracy is. Yes, Spain has 2000-year-old aqueducts and a centuries-old monarchy, but they have a 38-year-old Constitution. The U.S.’s Constitution is some 230 years old, so therefore the only people we have to hold up as “saviors” are our founding fathers (whose narrative, obviously, should also be heavily critiqued). Time will tell whether Spain gives Adolfo Suarez and Juan Carlos I the same treatment they give Isabel y Fernando, and 500 years down the line some blogger like me will be critiquing THAT narrative too. And I guess as history continues to be written, that’s how it should be. 

Tomorrow, it’s off to the Prado for a little more of the Spain they want us (tourists, etc) to see. Make no mistake — the fact that I have this opportunity to see any part of Spain is something I’m extremely grateful for. But I’m equally grateful that I’ve been given the resources to see as many perspectives on the history of this country as possible. I just want the under-represented voices to be given more of a boost, is all.

In the meantime, now that I’m off my soapbox, I’ve got a date with the Spanish translation of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” I bought yesterday.

[elisecordoblog]

Day 1: Madrid Airport, Avila, Salamanca

At about 9:00 AM local time (midnight Oregon time!) I touched down at Madrid-Barajas and got to see Europe with my own eyes for the very first time. And as you can see from the Homestar photo I posted right after touchdown, It’s sorta foggy.

(Side note before I continue: I wanted to add photos to this post but Tumblr is being very uncooperative with photos right now, so the photoset will come later.)

As I got settled into the bus at the airport, I familiarized myself with some of the local eats: Principe galletas con crema de chocolate and Ruffles con sabor de jamon. The jamon chips were INCREDIBLE and I will try very hard not to spend lots of euros buying lots of them this semester. Especially since I could also just buy jamon.

We took our bus to beautiful Avila, which has gorgeous Romanesque town walls. From the Cuatropostes, there was a fascinating contrast between old and new architecture.

The Spanish countryside is absolutely beautiful. Surprisingly arid, and not as green as I would have expected in some places. But part of the drive was through farmland, and it looked stunning when the sun came out. It reminded me of the wine country in the more rural parts of the Portland metro, except it just seems to go on and on and on. With ruins showing up every so often.

Now I’m in Salamanca, home of Spain’s oldest university and a very gorgeous city. The hotel room is so fancy that you can use your room key to turn all the lights on. Thing is, energy is very expensive in Spain, so all the power automatically goes off again after a couple minutes. Still, the hotel staff member who showed me how it worked seemed very amused by how cool I thought the system was.

Fun fact: the University of Salamanca was founded around 1134 and received its royal charter in 1218, making it the third oldest university in the world. Also fun fact: the first university in the Western US, Willamette University, was founded in 1842. You can expect most of my culture shock to be about things along those lines.

Later tonight will be my first dinner in Spain, so maybe I’ll have more exciting stuff to say later, or maybe I’ll just crash, but after everything I’ve seen so far, I’d say I’ve gotten a great first impression of this beautiful country.

[prezdabeast]

Day 1: Madrid Airport, Avila, Salamanca

At about 9:00 AM local time (midnight Oregon time!) I touched down at Madrid-Barajas and got to see Europe with my own eyes for the very first time. And as you can see from the Homestar photo I posted right after touchdown, It’s sorta foggy.

(Side note before I continue: I wanted to add photos to this post but Tumblr is being very uncooperative with inline photos right now, so the photoset will come later.)

As I got settled into the bus at the airport, I familiarized myself with some of the local eats: Principe galletas con crema de chocolate and Ruffles con sabor de jamon. The jamon chips were INCREDIBLE and I will try very hard not to spend lots of euros buying lots of them this semester. Especially since I could also just buy jamon.

We took our bus to beautiful Avila, which has gorgeous Romanesque town walls. From the Cuatropostes, there was a fascinating contrast between old and new architecture.

The Spanish countryside is absolutely beautiful. Surprisingly arid, and not as green as I would have expected in some places. But part of the drive was through farmland, and it looked stunning when the sun came out. It reminded me of the wine country in the more rural parts of the Portland metro, except it just seems to go on and on and on. With ruins showing up every so often.

Now I’m in Salamanca, home of Spain’s oldest university and a very gorgeous city. The hotel room is so fancy that you can use your room key to turn all the lights on. Thing is, energy is very expensive in Spain, so all the power automatically goes off again after a couple minutes. Still, the hotel staff member who showed me how it worked seemed very amused by how cool I thought the system was. 

Fun fact: the University of Salamanca was founded around 1134 and received its royal charter in 1218, making it the third oldest university in the world. Also fun fact: the first university in the Western US, Willamette University, was founded in 1842. You can expect most of my culture shock to be about things along those lines.

Later tonight will be my first dinner in Spain, so maybe I’ll have more exciting stuff to say later, or maybe I’ll just crash, but after everything I’ve seen so far, I’d say I’ve gotten a great first impression of this beautiful country.