Plastic Plates in Águilas

Today is Saturday and currently I am the lone patron of my favorite coffee shop located within the heart of Murcia's university district, La Merced. Cafe Haskell is a gem of a hangout spot partially because it is the only place in the city that makes you feel like your inside a relaxed cafe setting. The owners are two Italian girls who have decided to decorate their business with various mementos from San Francisco which is also another reason why I have become a fairly frequent regular. With a earphones safely guarded under the protection of grey beanie and a warm caffeinated beverage awaiting the initial first sip the vibe in Haskell is quite comfortable. It's been a few weeks since updating this blog so I hope that whoever is taking time to read this is having a great weekend :)

Life here in Murcia has been following a very busy pattern. From Monday until Thursday a great deal of free time has been dedicated towards planning activities for Nuestra Señora de los Angeles and Vicente Medina the two primary schools that have contracted me to work as an English language assistant. Tuesdays have now officially become the most pressing day of the week because at Nuestra Señora de los Angeles located in El Esparragal, Spanish for Asparagus, I have taken the helm of an English after school program to help some of the students receive extra practice. With the goal of helping fourteen students gain an increased understanding of my native language while also giving myself some much desired extra experience teaching without supervision I am confident that everyone will gain something valuable from this experience. The first class ended with a variation of "Hot Potato" which was surprisingly successful.

This past week has also marked the return to full-time salsa lessons at Bora Bora which will be good for learning some new dance moves, meeting new people, and also getting more Spanish practice. The group so far seems really nice and I'm excited to see where things go. When not dancing or doing something related to teaching English a great deal of time has been spent doing language exchanges, exploring new parts of Murcia, and taking part in some of the country's more well-known festivities. Murcia is not a big city when compared to Madrid, Barcelona, or even Denver but it manages to provide its inhabitants with a wide variety of dining options, nightlife, parks, group activities, and all for a very affordable price. Also with more than 40,000 university students there is a constant energy that keeps the lifestyle here refreshing.

Last Saturday for many people around the world represented a day to be with your significant other, also known as Valentine's Day. In Spain and in various other countries, most notably Brazil, another celebration was in full effect: Carnival. A month before Lent, typically around February, many cities around the world take part in large parades, days of non-stop dancing, exotic costume parties, and various celebrations that last for two consecutive weeks. If you happen to be in Spain during this special time of year there are a handful of destinations worth visiting such as Cadiz, the Canary Islands and Águilas.

Águilas is a small Mediterranean port city of roughly 30,000 people that is sandwiched between the edge of the Murcian and Almerian districts of southern Spain. Last weekend my roommate Lucia, her classmates, and myself took a train from Murcia and took part in the Carnival festivities within it's narrow stone streets and under the protection of the cities' once prominent cliff-side castle. Between DJs playing tunes ranging from Blink-182 anthems to latin infused foot stompers we had a really fun time. Thousands of people, all of whom dressed up in costumes, crowded the narrow streets in what turned out to be a seemingly infinite dance party. Dressed as a picnic I quickly lost most of my costume in the fray of dancing and crowd swimming people, which mainly included plastic plates and neon colored silverware glued to a green T-shirt.

The following morning we all arrived back in Murcia via a early train not exactly sure what year it was but the trip was well worth it. Next weekend one of my best friends, Anna Sun, will be visiting Barcelona from California and a much anticipated reunion almost six months in the making is going to be taking place.

Thank you for reading this blog. You look really pretty. I hope you are having a great day and I miss you a lot.

Much love, gravy, and plenty of biscuits,

Daniel Anetac (Catena)

Zen Station

An empty white plate with fragments of remaining empanada crumbs lies to my left as I balance a now fully consumed miniature glass bottle of what once was pineapple juice down on the table facing me. Slightly hunched over the marble square table it's difficult looking forward due to piercing yellows from a saluting sun. Enclosed within the center of three rows of small square tables I am taking a seat within the cafeteria of the Alicante bus station and without thinking I decided to eat my breakfast while facing the large rectangle shaped primary window. Two people can be faintly seen directly in front of me through the curtains of sunlight as I attempt to bat my eyelids free from their stinging discomfort.

The room is fairly large and combined with various ticket kiosks and tourist booths there exists a great deal of space for people to relax before traveling to other destinations. I, like every almost everyone here, am waiting for a bus. Based on the illuminated departure and arrival times there sits at least a few minutes before the moment arrives for me to grab my small backpack and make way towards the exit. 

With muffled and hard to recognize Spanish voices dancing with static making routine announcements the bus station is at a bare minimum capacity since it's still quite early in the morning. Before my bus arrives there isn't enough time to do anything except wait for it to lurch into the station and collect the unknown quantity of people who are finding ways to stay occupied until it's potential appearance. 

With the sun still blocking my full vision I can make out the partially concealed moving figure of a cleaning cart being guided by a soft walking bathroom attendant.

Waiting can be a difficult process. With the comfort of eye blinking speed technology and a constant rotating wheel of daily tasks it can feel like a dragging red light has been preventing you from crossing the street towards the next wave of circulating activities you would like to be swimming towards. If there was a non digital clock somewhere within the station there would sit a slightly growing suspicion that the hands were moving in the wrong direction.

In relaxed motions a series of large passenger buses can be heard accelerating in and out of the two story bus terminal but still the one I'm expecting hasn't parked in the loading bay. 

With my jacket fully zipped due to sudden chills from the outside and a backpack sitting patiently beneath my feet I'm ready for this bus to be here. However knowing that this is something I have no control over I decide to change the one thing I know is manageable, my breathing patterns.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four.

Repeat.

Not having any say of when this bus arrives actually isn't that bad. There isn't a button to make it change is speed nor do I have an app to know how much time it's lacking. The ticking of time will simply have to progress in its normal undisturbed pattern.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four.

Repeat. 

With the sun loosening its blinding powers due to incoming clouds combined with a different seating position its starting to feel relaxing having to wait. The bus will be here when it gets here, so until then all I care about is,

One, Two, Three, Four, Repeat.

Thank you for reading this blog, I hope your enjoying your day :) 

Road Baguettes

Orilla de Azarbe, Murcia.

A lengthy aged cement road that serves as a man-made oasis from a sprawl of lush plots of farmland.

A line of houses and unknown public buildings with dusty faded paint stretching along the foundations of this road until they come barley recognizable.

For some people this sight might be something off-putting, rare, strange, and a stew of many other emotions. For four months I have given this view one identity:

Thursday.

Standing next to a wide metallic post with the markings of "Latbus" I find myself on the corner of this street awaiting the usual Thursday ride home after a day of working at the primary school Vicente Medina. Four hours of mimicking basic English grammar, listening for errors during speaking exercises, giving dozens of high-fives, and attempting to maintain the role of "teacher" towards a few hundred Spanish children, makes the silence of a lone bus stop feel like an embrace from a long lost friend. Not seeing a single person within tangible range of senses makes being here somewhat alien yet increasingly refreshing.

A single car passes. The person driving shares a similar interest towards me as I have towards them. Very little.

A gust of chilled winter air yields a silent shiver and somewhere the shaking of unknown trees can be heard in a soft waving fashion.

The number sixty-two bus is the only one that I have ridden on in Spain that arrives exactly on time. Normally they arrive eight minutes early or five minutes late. This in the four months since starting my contract as English assistant is the only public transport that arrives exactly at 1:13pm, the time printed on the chronicled list of arrivals along the metallic postage sign that faces me to the right. Vicente Medina is conveniently located directly in the middle of what some call nowhere hence hardly anyone is entering or exiting this particular bus, especially at this particular moment in time, giving each rare passenger a comforting awareness of punctuality.

Knowing that there is probably still a three minute window before the bus arrives I instinctively unzip my backpack and rip out a piece of semi-squished baguette then swallow it down in only a few bites. I bought this snack before heading to work this morning in anticipation of being hungry. My parents would probably have told me to chew slower but this is technically my Friday and being on a completely silent street where there inhabits more chirping rooftop pigeons than people I'm sure that no one will give much attention.

The taste of road baguette lingers in my mouth within Orilla de Azarbe as these words become immortalized inside the realm of this blog.

I dig a little deeper in my snack's paper bag and gather an additional soft chunk of soon to be eaten bread.

This post is coming two weeks later than intended. I wanted to write about the visiting of some great friends (John, Nick, Andrew, Thilak, and Gabriela) during the winter holidays. I was really fortunate enough to have visited John and Nick in Manchester, Andrew in Liverpool, Thilak in Cologne, and Gabriela in Paris. It had been years since we all had last seen each other and the reunions that we shared we something that i am truly grateful for and will remember for the rest of my life.

Preparing my first private English lessons, researching new warm-up activities for students at the two school I work with, and reconnecting with friends have all consumed great quantities of time since returning to Murcia.

Where there once was inspiration for a blog post there now sits a loaf of bread that was bought from a store located along a different corner in Murcia, and also possibly in life.

The proper words, descriptions, and gratitudes I wanted to express to the people visited during the break have regrettably taken the same form of the baguette that was once in my backpack. Similar to the ghost of what was once in the now empty paper bag as it sits balled up in the palm of my hand I can hardly remember how the words I wanted to use looked like. Maybe the post I wanted to babble was supposed to be this long or possibly it was going to be shorter.

I sincerely apologize and as the number sixty-two bus is starting to show its purple and orange rectangular forehead along the once empty Orilla de Azarbe concrete passageway it is now time to go forward with the afternoon and in life.

The bus is now here. I'm greeting the driver. The bus stop is now disappearing from sight as I sit in the back aisle of the typically empty Latbus.

Not a single person is here expect for me, the driver, and seats filled with memories from winter break. The hunger still persists however the road snack is completely gone and now there are only a few fallen crumbs that have escaped into my backpack.

Will I buy another loaf in the future? In this world its hard to say what decisions we will make and which bakeries to support.

There is one that I know will be frequented again. One that continues to keep me smiling and looking forward to when I get to see it again.

To some people it may have many names. I for a handful of years and hopefully for the rest of my life will give it only one identity.

Friendship.

Until next time.

Going Gone

BToday is Tuesday and at this very moment I am sitting in the back seat of a coasting ALSA bus as it paces towards the city of Alicante. This marks the first offical day of a two week winter vacation for the vast majority of schools in Spain. Until sometime last week my plans for the holidays were loosely patched together and filled with blank spots that stood out like holes along an old road. Most english teachers have elected to leave Murcia for at least a portion of the holiday and starting with this short bus ride I will be following a similar trend.

After getting in touch with some close friends I finalized a series of accomdation situations and booked a one way plane that is due to leave from Alicante in less than four hours. It's destination will be Manchester, United Kingdom and the purpose of this trip will be to reconnect with two really great guys who I last saw two years ago in South America. Nick and John both go to school in Manchester and it will be truly great to see those guys.

From Manchester Nick and I will celebrate Christmas (if I'm still invited) with his family in Liverpool then a few days later drive with his mom to Blegium. From Belgium I plan on taking either a BlaBla car or any form of public transit to make my way to Cologne, Germany to see two other good friends who were also last seen two years ago in Ecuador. Thilak and Alex have offered to show me around their city and since its been so long it felt like a good idea to take advantage of the vacation to see them too. 

Lastly from Cologne I will find some form of transport to take me to Paris to celebrate New Years with geat person named Gabriela and her friends. She and I haven't seen one another since meeting for the first time last year with the help of Couchsurfing. A few other people, Fanny and Alice, live in the city as well and we haven't seen each other in almost six years.

From Paris the final plan is still unclear but either way I will need to make way towards Murcia because the vacation will be drawing to a close.

Writing the final words to this post I feel nothing but excitement to see these people and feel even more blessed to have them as friends. Over the years it could have been very simple to lose contact but by equal efforts from each person's part these reunions are about to take place. The maintaining of friendships like these are some of the greatest gifts anyone can ask for and it's becoming difficult to maintain composure simply thinking about seeing these people again. 

As this bus nears its destination I can physically see that an airport is coming into sight. The wide and tall glass terminal of the large Alicante airport can be literally seen from outside the back window of where I'm seated. Witnessing all of these concrete events unfolding doesn't change how the internal semi disbelief and excitement are starting to drive my consciousness. Mentally, despite what is really happening, I have no idea where this bus is going. 

All know is I'm gone. 

I hope that whoever reads this has a very wonderful holiday season and a great start to 2015. Wherever or whoever you are I truly wish the best for you and hope that you can celebrate this time of year with those who are most important.  Have a great day and enjoy each moment, you are beautiful :)

Cheers.

Under the Ficus Trees

Today is Wednesday and despite being mid December the weather in Murcia is surprisingly warm. Based on my limited experience of understanding climate patterns for this part of the world it has been worthwhile to always pack an extra layer because temperatures have been known to go through daily identity crises'. At 9am the sun will leave you shedding layers however by 3pm you will want to run towards any enclosed building to escape the chills of incoming wind. This being said I have packed a light jacket in preparation for the potential bombardment of invading shivers.

It's been a few weeks since posting in this blog and for that I apologize. Between preparing Christmas presentations for class and hopping into BlaBla cars on weekends, time between my last posting and the current one has entered a tunnel of evaporating velocity. Last weekend my friend Lieven and I spent a few days in a rain soaked Madrid to stay with an Argentinian Couchsurfing friend. During our short yet condensed trip we hopped a morning bus to wander around the medieval gem also known as Toledo. This small yet beautiful city is a blending of Jewish, Christian & Arabic cultures and picturesque rolling green hills can be seen from all corners of its sturdy castle walls. We connected with Jesús, a really nice guy from Bolivia, and he showed us the highlights of Toledo which for me was the Alcázar, a looming symbol of the Spanish Civil War. Jesús and his family knew Lieven through Couchsurfing and we shared a delicious Vegan inspired dinner as they reconnected for the first time in years. While back in Madrid we took a day long personal walking tour through Parque del Retiro, Puerto del Sol, then ended with free entries into the museums El Prado and La Reina Victoria. The Spanish capital city is a massive yet magical place to visit and thanks to the fantastic metro system it's fairly easy to navigate. Thanks to Couchsurfing we were able to see this part of Spain on a shoestring budget and for that I am very thankful.

At this exact moment I am taking a seat on a faded brown park bench watching scores of casually paced walkers crossing in various directions in El Jardín de Floridablanca. Taking a seat only minutes ago there has already been a steady progression of pedestrians continuing the rhythm of their daily pattern and watching them go by is quite peaceful. Some are dressed in fancy business attire, others have their backpacks hanging loose on their shoulders, others are prepping for a jog and striding with seemingly un-natural leg motions.

With my cell phone on airplane mode the past few minutes of complete disconnection from the realm of electronic social clouds ignites calming internal streams that are rooting around me like those of the massive ficus trees that line the park's central stone passageway. Built in the 19th century and occupying a large rectangle shaped territory within Murcia's El Carmen neighborhood, El Jardín de Floridablanca is easily my favorite place to relax in the city. Separated by El Rio Segura (the river that dissects the city) from the hustle of downtown Murcia this meeting point for locals is still close enough to feel a heartbeat away from its pulsing energy.

Besides the great people watching this sanctuary is nice because under the spreading fingers of ficus branches I am completely shielded from the sun. The benches that form a synchronized stitching pattern along the lining of the park's main walkway are also surprisingly comfortable. Along the oposite entryway of the park scores of children can be seen playing in confusingly shaped structures with their parents looking onward in casual fashion.

A slight breeze sends scores of ficus leaves skidding towards an Eastern sprawl along the pavement. Somewhere motors from cars can be heard buzzing in accordance to stop lights.

Besides the rays of tall standing sunshine another important thing is being shielded by the ballooning green vegetation of the ficus trees: My identity. Sitting on this park bench there exists a temporary and necessary internal oasis. No one in this park knows who I am, why I'm in Spain, and what path in life I have chosen. However it's also impossible to guess who the unknown park explorers are either. Maybe the person that just crossed my path is studying to become a lawyer. The woman on her cell phone might be a local television personality or maybe a criminal seeking refuge from pursuing authorites. No matter our life stories and the countless decisions we have made to reach this precise moment in life, everything has been left on the outside sidewalk as we now share at least one visible mutual interest: this park and its soft falling ficus leaves.

Once we leave the protection of it's steal fences & non-attention grabbing monuments to people I've never heard of we will return to everything that we used to know.

As two legged human beings start to look more like waving dots along pathway its my cue to leave and continue to whatever it was I was doing.

Maybe the unknown park walkers will see me sitting on that same bench again one day in the future. Maybe they won't.

At least we will always have the ficus trees.

It's time to put on my jacket.

Shower like a Spaniard

Today is Thursday and as the dialogue of local Murcian news is streaming from an undetermined origin from my computer the day is progressing in orderly fashion. After four hours of assisting two English professors at Vicente Medina, a primary school located along the border between the Murcian towns of El Esparragal and La Orilla de Azarbe, the work week has officially ended. I share time each week between this school and La Señora de los Angeles which is centrally located in El Esparragal and both locations provide different yet equally uplifting environments. Between language exchanges with a couple of the town's really nice locals and frequenting a local bakery on a habitual basis for empanadas I am beginning to feel like a quasi part of the town.

After seven weeks of working as an English language assistant I feel fortunate to be a part of both school's bilingual programs and each day continues to be a learning experience. As of this past Monday there is now a new love in my life: Mandarines. Murcia as a region doesn't boast the most prominent architecture or traveler friendly scene compared to the rest of the country however it does happen to be Spain's leading producer of delicious fruit and vegatables. Local food products can be found at absurdly cheap prices within nearly every grocery store and as stated above I have found a new addiction towards mandarines. On Monday I was awarded a bag full of them by the grandfather of a friend who lives in El Esparragal and the rich juicy citrus of their orange inspired deliciousness has me completely hooked.

Last Sunday after hiking along a sunny coastal trail with Lola, Lucia, and Leiven within the nature preserve of Calblanque, roughly thirty minutes outside of La Manga towards Mar Manor, a second love of my life entered the realm of my tastebuds: Paella. Inside a local restaurant and while sharing una jarra of Estrella beer a massive black simmering saucepan was placed at the center of our table. Garnished with wide sliced limes an assortment of green peppers, red peppers, calamari, clams, & full pieces of chicken sat docked within the shores of a savory saffron rice lagoon. Despite all of us equally being starving after the hike we weren't able to finish the enormous serving of Paella and elected to rename it's role into leftovers.

Like an echo of the first sentence within this blog post it is currently Thursday and the sky outside is cloudy with possible hints of rain in the forecast. Since flicking enough keyboard combinations to create three paragraphs the background soundtrack to my afternoon has now shifted to underground Hip-Hop, a rhythm reminiscent of living back home. After seven weeks of living a semi-expat lifestyle in Murcia I sincerely miss the good music from home but more importantly I miss the people who I once shared it with. Mexican food, hot sauce, bicycle lanes, and social acceptance for wearing flip-flops are a handful of other things that I miss but luckily there are new aspects of life that have taken their place. The ability to share a delicious tapas dinner among friends at a whopping price of $7 is a nice change. Instead of addressing friends as "man" or "buddy" you now have "acho", "tio", and "hombre." The word "joder" has multiple entertaining meanings and children as young as 6 can be heard expressing it is various contexts. Instead of scratching your head with a good response to something you didn't quite understand in conversation there now exists a simple melodic verbal solution: "vale". People here are also very helpful and open, often to the point of excessiveness. Without knowing who you are a family will gladly invite you to lunch and without question offer you a glass of local wine as if it were part of their daily routine. People here are also for the most part very proud, honest, and friendly despite assuming that since I'm American I have a fondness for hamburgers, shooting things, and being late to everything.

As I sit here in front of my computer I realize that this morning I didn't wait to see if any of my roommates were going to use the shower. I simply woke up, stumbled half-awake into the bathroom and did what needed to be done in order start the day before school. When I first moved into the place where I currently am living it was a different story. Taking showers, like crossing a busy street, ordering a beer at a popular bar, or simply living life in most cases requires you to simply just take the lead and make the first move. By the time you wait for everyone to wake up then ask if they need the bathroom you might have already missed the bus for work. People here seemed to have figured this out and it's something that I want to take into daily accordance as long as respect for others is maintained.

If I walk away from this experience having gained nothing else at the very least I can say that I can now shower like a Spaniard.

Have a great day and more updates coming soon :)

ValenciAhhh

Sometime around 8pm last Friday an ALSA bus that originated in Murcia made its final stop within the city of Valencia. After conducting routine pick-ups in Elche and Benidorm, a pair of smaller cities a short distance from Alicante, the mode of transport passively lurched into a nesting place between two brightly tinted yellow lines painted on asphalt inside an airplane hangar style terminal. The sky was dark and once the buses' rear doors glided open a sprawl of disembarking passengers scattered in unseen directions with varied degrees of urgency. After waiting my turn in a moderately progressing line and five careful downward steps I was now officially in the city.

With zero plan of action and not a clue of where anything was located I managed to make way towards the neighborhood El Carmen, one of the oldest barrios of Valencia. During the bus trip I booked a single night at the Central Valencia Youth Hostel via my phone in order to have at least a small point of reference upon arrival. The hostel, like its title, is conveniently located in the center of many important landmarks like Plaza de La Virgen and los Torres de Serranos. After charging my phone, meeting a couple backpackers from Australia and Sweden, then sending out a series of last minute couchsurfing requests for the following day, I exited the hostel with not a single idea where to go. 

The soft sliding shut of the trendy Euro-hostel's glass door changed my role from casual vacationer to street dweller and impulse driven corner crosser. With the door closed behind me the first major decision of the weekend presented itself before my very eyes. 

Turn left or turn right?

My first evening in Valencia proceded in this kind of fashion. Sneaking between allies, impromptu U-turns, and sudden curb jumping guided me first towards a hundred something person bicycle posse congregating around the Turia Fountain of La Plaza de La Virgin where middle aged men walked around with paper bags looking to sell overly priced street beers. A few more left and right turns sent me to Plaza Viriato to enjoy the closing of an electronic DJ set among scores of seemingly well-to-do Valencians donning nice evening attire and more street beer. Twisting along through confusingly titled streets and following along with various waves of strolling locals I encountered Alberto who was working at "The Hotdog Factory", a corner food restaurant selling what you probably can already guess. Alberto introduced me to a girl named Lola who then gave me directions to a music venue called "Loco Club" where a band from Madrid called Dinero was performing. With no plans I followed the directions that she drew on a white napkin and spent the rest of the evening listening to high energy Spanish rock music.

Once Saturday Morning introduced itself with a groggy handshake I was informed by the staff of the hostel where I was staying that the facility was fully booked and check-out was in 2 hours. Looking online not a single hostel in Valencia had space for less than 35 Euros which was way too expensive for my budget. No one responded to my Couchsurfing request either so it was looking like a return to Murcia was going to be happening later in the day.

While thinking of options on a hostel computer someone messaged me on Couchsurfing. An American named Nadia working as an Au Pair saw my request on CS and was interested in exploring the city later in the afternoon. Having not a clue what the next plan of action was as per usual, I put my personal backpack in hostel storage, checked out, then met her at Mercado Central. From there we wandered around various parts of Valencia's historical district with no destination in mind and it was a fun way become acquainted with the cityscape. Starting with creating our own bocadillos in a nearby plaza from goods bought at Mercado Central, people watching from my hostel's rooftop patio, and trying tinto de verano at "100 Montaditos," then taking pictures of countless exotic urban art the afternoon passed in flashing instants. After recollecting my backpack I decided to stay an extra night even though I didn't have a place to sleep.

With all of my possessions attached to my back Nadia and I met up with some of her friends who were from the city and spent most of the night in El Carmen. Between finding a feet stomping drum parade, stand-up comedy acts in a half-constructed building foundation, kebabs, having tea at a teteria, then dancing to funky-beats at a great bar called "Radio Music" my final night in Valencia was one that will forever leave me in a good mood. Laura, Nadia's friend, was nice enough to let us stay at her place for the evening and I will be forever thankful for that act of kindness.

Before saying good farewell to Valencia on Sunday we climbed the winding stairs of Micalet located within the cities' cathedral to catch some of the cities' best views and did some wandering a little bit more just for old time's sake. I feel very fortunate to have met Nadia and hope to repay the her fantastic role of tourguide to her or anyone else if they ever visit Murcia.

Having returned from Valencia there were a lot of supposedly important things I didn't manage to experience. I didn't try the cities' famous Paella, I didn't make a small trek to the beach like a lot of visitors, I didn't see La Lonja & didn't go into The City of Arts and Sciences museum. If anyone asks what exactly I did do while in Valencia the answer is simple:

I had one of the best weekends of my life.