Wednesday, July 9

DON'T SCRATCH IN PUBLIC! Ugh.


Before I get started on this blog entry, I have to tell you what I just witnessed.  I saw a kinda chunky/flubby guy spread his legs whilst walking, scratch and adjust his balls, and acted like nothing out of the ordinary just happened.  And to make it worse, his balls were squishy!!! 

I the Single Saint, Cant. Deal.

Now, moving on to more important memories. Actually I can't. Scratchy balls made me lose my literary/writing appetite.

Morocco


Morocco Day 1

My grandmother planned this trip with her travel agency and they have done a wonderful job.  Today, we flew into Casablanca which is the only international airport of the country and I really felt a huge cultural jump from Spain to Morocco.  It was a two-hour flight and we went from traffic rules to traffic suggestions, Spanish to Arabic, White people to gorgeously tanned people, orange juice to bottled water, and dry to humid.  This is my FIFTH continent and I’m so excited to be here!



On my first day to Africa, I found that the people are incredible and bright-eyed and calm.  Time slows and relationships build.  We had a local tourguide for the day who at the end of our 10 hour stay, invited me and my grandmother back to her country and into her home if we are ever in the area again.  I liked her a lot.  Her name is Noura and she just married about 6 months ago.  She took us around the city to some interesting places. 

(Noura and my Grandma Frankie)

Our first stop was a Jewish Moroccan museum as their cultures collided and they have grown together over the past century or so.  She spat off many facts like a history audiobook and I was humbled again because I don’t know if I could reciprocate with American history with such ease, clarity, and solidarity.  I got super close to checking off another bucketlist item—to touch an old Torah—but it was behind glass and I couldn’t.  Next time maybe.



After the museum, we stopped to eat.  One of top 3 favorite cuisines in all the world is Moroccan.  I don’t know how they spice their food, but it is so rich and multi-leveled.  I had stewed beef that almost made me cry and then they served about 10 different small cooked, but cold vegetable dishes.  I also ate 2 olives as this is olive country.  I still hate olives.



After this, we stopped by the third largest mosque in the entire world that was finished in 1999 after 6 years of hard labor day and night by thousands.  All tiles were hand-carved and the majestic openness and simplicity was beautiful.  This was my first time in a large mosque.  I was invited to one in Nashville by a dear friend of mine and I appreciated she taking the time to explain her religious beliefs and structure of worship before visiting this one.



Part of it was built over the Atlantic Ocean and it made for a spectacular view and picturesque panoramic both from the mosque property and from far away (Pictures).




I have such a respect now for the Islamic faith, but still desire and pray that they will know the love of Jesus  as He is the only Way, Truth, and Life (John 14:6).  I believe that God will stir my heart now to pray for them more often than I have now that I have met such beautiful people. 

After the mosque, we somehow survived the streets with 3 lanes that the Moroccans made into 5.  Bikers felt like the white lines to divide the roads were for them and weaved effortlessly and without second thought from line to line thus making me double check my life insurance policy.

We stopped by a pigeon park to look at the official buildings and got swindled by some pigeon feeders who would take our pictures, disappear to print them, and then charge us 2 Euro for them.  Thank goodness I had my iPhone! I saved 2 Euro.



Did I mention I hate pigeons?  I used to be able to be around them, but some neuron no longer is connected to my pigeon-liking brain and now I can’t handle being around the dirty birds.  But I faced my disdain and loved feeding them with seed.  There were so many! If I spent more time with them, I would have named them and wished them good luck in their future reproduction habits.

After that, we stopped by to check out some artisan crafts.  These are hand made carpets.  I don’t know all the terms and what they were made of, but the dyes are natural, and some are even two sided.  When you turn them around and walk on them, the dirt falls out the other side! They’re self-cleaning and you don’t need a vacuum! Ingenious. 



Then, there was a magical sunset from the car.
And THEN I found amazing graffiti.  I think this is my new favorite thing to find in new cities I visit.  Somehow oversized, hyper-colored art on walls is fascinating—partly because I can’t even draw a stick figure.



We also checked out a herb store which is like an alternative health store.  They had dried flowers, seeds, ground stuff in random jars and ointments, oils, and creams.  You could walk in there and tell them how you were feeling or what medicines a doctor recommended and could try the natural remedy for it. It was HA-larious. The doctor says, “What do you want? I can fix it for you!” I was like, “Uuuhhhhhh….I don’t know.”  I have a hard time choosing things when there is more than 1 option.  Then he looks at me and says, “Here are some flower to make some tea for weight loss!” I was like, “Whaattt?? I know I’m fat, but dang!” Hilarity.  After thinking about it, I decided, “What the heck.” So I bought some. I also got some lavender oil so that when my uterus have spasms and tremors like the California earthquake of 1988, I can put 3 drops of the oil in some milk or juice and maybe not die that month. I MIGHT maybe be skinny one day.  He said something about losing water weight and drinking 6-8 ounces a day and losing 3-5 kilograms in 6 weeks.  The herbs don’t do anything bad—if they don’t work, they pass through your system without harm. I got intrigued and burned through $100 within a blink of an eye.  I was tempted to get some Argan oil as all the hipsters use it and it is totally the rage in America.  I also thought about getting some saffron as it is about 2-3 times the price in America, but stopped at weight loss flower tea and menstrual relief oils.

Welp, I’m done catching up my invisible readers on my trip.  I just finished in time to pee and get ready to fly out to another city that I’ve been trying for 6 hours to say—Ourzazate. 



Toledo, Spain


Toledo

The next day after Segovia, my family and I took another train to Toledo which was about 30 minutes away from Madrid in another direction.  This town was much larger and was an impossible labyrinth of curving streets with the longest being MAYBE 150 yards.  I don’t know how anybody could find anything.  I was just grateful that each alley and each street were unique and beautiful and resulted in some pretty great pictures.  I was with my family this time so I could only take 150 pictures instead of my normal 200. Oh well. 



This town had a ginormous cathedral that was about 500 years old and was gold plated in lots of areas and had the same gorgeous ceilings.  My neck had a migraine from craning so much.  The pillars that hoisted the ceiling resembled tree trunks and the wood and stone carvings were humbling.  And to know they reached such precision with no technology on which we so rely.  This cathedral wasn’t my favorite only because by this time I had already seen 3 or 4, and also the time period was new to me and I didn’t really understand it—and was really unfamiliar with it. 



At the cathedral, this guy said he had something to show us and snuck away like a rodent into the cavernous belly of the New York gutters and underground world—perhaps more romantic and chivalrous sounding than that dismal word picture, but you get the idea.  He told us that under this monastery was this unique artwork called domascene which is when you hammer tiny gold and silver leaf pieces into a smoothed surface of rock  and fire it to make it glossy.  It’s an artform that is passed down from generation to generation and I got a couple pictures of three generations working on it—grandfather, father, and son.  It was a precious and intimate moment.  We met some of the artisans and they instantly became my superheroes as I complained of working on my dissertation at Times New Roman 12 point font for several months—which doesn’t compare to doing this art work with no magnification for 30+ years. 



The city was surrounded by water and was built on a hill.  I would have liked to stay longer to take pictures, but I was also tired of walking around and getting lost—more unplanned exercising.  I kept walking around and around wondering why this felt as though I had already visited.  At the artisan workshop, I asked the guy if he had heard of the book Don Quixote.  And he says, “Don Quixote? Of course! It is called “Don Quoxite de la Plancha. This place—it is ‘de la Plancha!’” Score! I wasn’t crazy after all.  The sections I had read in my humanities class actually stuck.  I’ll be putting this book on my to-read-list for 2014 now that I’ve been to the land from which it was inspired.


Spain!


Well, Madrid has come and gone with many happy memories.  I spent two days in the actual city touring and exploring on the mass tourismo bus that identifies you as non-Spaniard as soon as you board.  As much as I don’t like making my tourist-status obvious, I do appreciate the views from aboard the autobus.  A few highlights.

A Super MASSIVE museum. 

They said that this museum had one of the top art collections in all of Europe, but I didn’t exactly know what that meant.  Apparently it meant walking hundreds of miles, room after room, painter after painter for at least 3 hours.  The first 90 or so minutes, I stared at each painting trying to interpret it, but the last 90 I was completely overwhelmed with brushstrokes and could no longer analyze.  They were all fantastic in their own ways.  Some were flowery, others of scenes from history, and others people, and then you had the random boob.  I was absolutely horrified when I saw one boob in particular squirting a giant stream of milk into the night sky completely missing the mouth of the sweet babe.  Apparently, that is how the Milky Way was made according to Greek mythology. I sat there staring at the milk, and then the boob, and then the milk, and then the stars…and then the boob again. My mind was completely blown and I shall never look at the stars the same again.

One other amazing piece that I saw was of the Christ babe in the manger with Three Kings—and one of them was an African king! He was Black! I was thrilled. Yay for the Black people. Many people who are Afrocentric and think that the Bible was made for and by Whites to dominate the Colored people of the world oft don’t realize that Jesus was a Savior to all of mankind and that the story was early introduced to the Motherland as depicted in this painting and also in the writings of Paul.  I wish I could discuss this more, but that’s all I know.
6 billion more paintings later, my legs were completely exhausted and we went to go eat and I got more orange juice. 

The next day was super awesome.  I decided to be a big girl and travel a bit on my own.  I went to a city called Segovia which was a 30 minute train ride from Madrid.  I don’t know how I didn’t miss my stop because as soon as the train started moving, I drifted into a deep coma.  The trains here feel like what I’d imagine Star Trek Enterprise to feel like as you can barely tell when they are stopped and when they are moving.  The train and transportation infrastructure here puts the United States to absolute shame.  



America needs trains for the simple fact that trains are cool.

(Segovia street)

Looking in the guide book for Segovia, they recommended seeing the Roman Aqueducts, the town’s cathedral, and a castle.  I got off of the train thinking that I would be in the middle of town, but this is actually what I found:



I was filled with trembling and fear.  I arrived there during their siesta (daily napping and resting time) which is between 12ish-2ish and there wasn’t a soul in sight except for other likewise tourists who were lost and befuddled by the lack of—city.  All of a sudden, four taxi cars (I’m sure they knew the train schedule by heart) just appeared out of nowhere and I shared a cab to the main city with an Italian family.  I looked on the map and wasn’t sure if I’d be able to see the aquaducts because I thought they’d be tucked away somewhere, but then I saw this:



And I said, “Oooohhh!! Well, those must be the aquaducts!” They were GINORMOUS! No mortar and no place to even squeeze a piece of chewed gum (several had tried).  Even after 2,000 years, they were beautiful pieces of work and had just been put out of commission lesson than 40 years ago.  



Amazing. 

I walked up into the city. That’s ANOTHER thing that has pissed me off about Spain.  All this exercise with no warning! The city had 2 relatively large hills which I crossed hither and thither.  My next stop after the aquaducts was the castle which was at the very back of the city.  On my bucketlist was to walk through a not-so-famous castle.  This was one was nice and not-so-famous. Check!
I even found my knight in shining armour!  Check! Not really.


Speaking of unplanned exercise, they said that I could pay 2 Euro to go into the spire of the castle because of the beautiful view of the city.  Well I said, “Of course!” That was before I knew that there were 154 stairs separating me from the ground floor and the top.  Pissed. Again.  I won’t mention what I sounded like climbing those stairs as it is rather inappropriate for this blog, but you can use your imagination and deductive reasoning skills.  Kinda awkward.


This was my reward after PAYING for exercise—again not excited.

Next stop was the cathedral in the middle of the city which was an exquisite and quaint cathedral.  Still massive, but not as massive as some of the others.  I liked this one just as much as I liked Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, but for different reasons. 



Last. Food. Let’s talk about this crepe I SMASHED.  I walked into this restaurant and asked if they could serve me in 30 minutes as I had a train to catch.  Before I blinked, it seemed, my food was in front of my face.  Inside of this wonder was rotisserie chicken, some kind of cheese like Swiss, caramelized onions, and (drum roll please)—DIJON MUSTARD!!! Heaven.  AND THEN I had fresh squeezed orange juice. 



With a crepe-filled belly, I took the taxi back to the train, napped, and then found my way to this English club that is sponsored by the church I went to on Sunday.  It was super awesome and I met some great people.  One was a super handsome, bearded Italian who looked maybe 5 years older than me and had a PhD and spoke 4 languages.  I may have to expand my boundaries to include Italians now.

Great day once again.


Monday, July 7

Poetry on the Menses, "Articulate," and the Black PhD

I've been saving videos on my phone for a time when I wasn't doing anything. Today is the day. There is no order or line of theme for them. Just brilliant Black scholars and wordsmiths.

http://youtu.be/4vu2BsePvoI

In honor of the menstrual cycle. I love this so very much and want to show this to everybody!


http://www.upworthy.com/someone-told-her-she-was-articulate-now-watch-her-very-articulately-reject-the-compliment?g=4

"I had to borrow your language cuz mine's was stolen. That I had to borrow your language because mines was stolen but you can't expect me to speak your history wholly while mines is broken. These words are spoken by someone who is simply fed up with the Euro-centric abdeals of the season and the reason I speak a composite version of your language is because mines was ripped away along with my history. I speak broken English, so the profusing gashes can remind us that our current state is not a mystery. I'm so tired of the negative images that are driving my people mad."

http://live.huffingtonpost.com/r/segment/black-men-in-higher-education/53aa131c78c90a5a22000130
So much truth in this one!!


Sunday, July 6

The end of epic.


All good things must eventually come to an end. The end of my six week vacation is upon me and I'm trying not to softly hum the Mozart Requiem as I board this plane.

It is so interesting to me because I heard the Southern-est accent just now and then heard the lady announcing that the flight to Hong Kong is now boarding. What opposites.

I am so not ready for a trip right now cuz I'm tired and want to sleep in my bed, but I am already planning my next trip. It gives me something to look forward to. I already have 3 ideas I'm brainstorming about. 

But for now, I'm going home.