porty pics

and now portugal

i don´t know that much about Portugal. many people reccomend knowing the historical or cultural significance of a place before going there in order to enrich your overall experience. I didn´t know shit. Except some remnants leftover from my interest in the Conquest and periods of exploration. I´d forgotten that Portugal was the mackdaddy in the 15th and 16th centuries and discovered half of the known world at the time. Now it´s just another victim of the tough economic times of the day. But it still has a lot to offer.

I arrived home from the Feria de Vino late Sunday evening with a hangover and a lot of uncertainty about getting in a car the next day and travelling for the better part of a week. Safe to say i was burnt out. Nico, my roomie, the voice of reason and leisure, said i was crazy for even considering going and that i should stay home and relax for vacation. I agreed, but couldn´t shake the thought that i might wake up on Wednesday with nothing to do and wish that i was in Portugal. I decided to decide about the decision in the morning. I didn´t pack; i went to bed. My phone rang at 10 with Dan saying that they would arrive shortly and to come down and meet them. That was it, i wasn´t going. I would give them the camping gear and head back upstairs. Then Dan convinced me just to close my eyes and get in the car. I did it. I´m happy now, although i was cursing my lack of resolve for 2 days into the trip. The pressure i put on myself to save for my summer vacations was making me wonder why i had come to Portugal when i didn´t know anything about the country and there was no real objective for the trip. I feared i would leak money for 6 days.

We drove 6 or 7 hours to a beach and campsite just north of Lisbon and set up shop. The campsite was nestled behind some sand dunes a couple of blocks from the beach, which was surrounded by cliffs. the facilities were nice but our supplies were scarce. We had about 2 dozen cookies and cinnoman rolls infused with weed. Satiation and alteration fused into one. It was me, Dan, Drew and Christine, all Americans with the same program. The stoned lack of decision making and direction really bothered me at first. I was quite pessimistic at first, but surpassed that nasty feeling in the coming days. A list of the cool things...

1. Sintra-- the former vacation spot of the king and high class when they wanted to escape the city. It´s a super picturesque town hidden in a lush valley and overlooked by a mountaintop castle. The old estates were taken from a fairytale, with underground tunnels that weave through darkness and spit you out at hidden lagoons or on top of a tower or the bottom of a well. By far a highlight of the trip and life in general. We spent the day getting lost in castles and palaces. Childhood relived. Check.

2. Camping. Having now problem getting up in the morning because that´s just how you feel when you camp.

3. Not camping. Hostel life is great and we had a blast in Lisbon and met some cool people. Lisbon was really pretty, but the weather was a bit dreary.

4. Cruising down the coast, peering over a sheer cliff at the beastly, open Atlantic thrashing down below. 

5. Getting to Peniche, a Portuguese surf town, just in time to see a thunderstorm roll on with the waves and taking a cool pic like this...













6. Arriving to Oporto while having a blast getting lost. Having a late night dinner with the family and owners of a restaurant and trying to understand Portuguese. Eating steak, fish, rice, potatos, salad, bread and wine for 4 people for only 25 euros.

7. Oporto. Cool German girls in the hostel. finally watching City of God. nightlife. meeting a nice portuguese girl.

8. stopping at hot springs on the way home and treating ourselves to an end of the trip spa sesh.

Thanks Mom and Dad for letting me do what I want and be lost in life.

Portugal, you friendly neighbor and finder of new worlds

i'm writing this, in a short space of time that I have in a hostel common room, in order to get the ball rolling again with this elusive blog that slips in and out of my routinely-non-routine life like an eel between a fat man's fingers. These last 3 weeks have been full of travel: a trip to reunite with my old pal, James, in Barcelona, to a small town in Galicia for a wine festival with my roommates, and now finally on a 6 day road trip along the coast of Portugal. And the curtain lifts...

Barcelona

My first visit to one of Spain's premiere cities; it left me almost as content as a plate of curry, naan bread and a mango lassie. I went because James was going to be there and we thought that it would be cool to meet in Europe. He was going to visit his cousin, who is studying in BCL, and wanted to know if I felt like crashing on the couch for the weekend. I bought the ticket and arrived at 5 p.m. on Friday. * a note on food: you can eat a big sandwich of spanish tortilla, which is basically an egg pie infused with lightly fried potatoes, for 2.70. You can then add pork tenderloins to it for only .30cents more. bomb.* That's what I ate for lunch. bomb. The airport in Barcelona conveniently has a train that takes you to directly to the city center for only 3 euros, and so I hopped on that bad boy and stepped out of the metro to the bustling streets of Barcelona only to be greeted with La Pedrera, on of Gaudi's many architectural gifts to the city. I passed this building that seemingly melts into the street on my way to meet James in the main plaza of the city. I was unaware and pleasantly surprised to learn that his mom, 2 aunts, and cousin Jack were also staying with him. They were extremely nice and i passed a luxurious weekend in a loft-style apartment in that same plaza in the middle of the city. I couldn't have asked for a better dose of random good luck. Thank you James and Co. once again.

The city itself is magical. It's cosmopolitan and you can hear any number of languages walking down the main tourist drag through the old part of town. This is where the hustle and bustle is, where pick-pockets and prostitutes thrive and immigrants from Pakistan sell 6-packs out of plastic bags until 5 in the morning. bomb.

I was approached my first night by a pretty, kind-looking african lady that asked me for the time. I was congenially reaching in to check my phone when she subtly whispered her elegantly-worded proposition to me: "Can I suck your dick?" I was taken aback and quite amused by this unexpected turn of events, and found myself laughing with my phone still in my hand. She looked offended that I found humor in this friendly exchange and so I apologized and thanked her for the kind offer. Some would call me a gentleman, but i would say a naive country boy form Lafayette, although it reminded of a certain similar happening outside of a Popeye's in Grand Coteau.

To sum things up: James and I had a good time catching up on old memories and chatting about new events in our lives. We had some nice meals with his family and the two of us went on Saturday and met some nice people. An acquaintance of mine, Cynthia, from the Y met us that night as well and we stayed out talking to locals in the plaza until about 6 a.m. Refreshing to be in a big city again, although I do enjoy the small town atmosphere of La Coru~a. I spent the rest of my time traversing the city by foot and gazing at the many architectural jewels that one man took upon himself to bestow upon his hometown, thus single-handedly transforming it into a tourist attraction. I'm excited to return there in July with Mike and Danaya, and to delve deeper into the city.

La Feria de Vino

A Sunday Trek

Yesterday, I woke up at 7:30 to catch a bus out to the countryside with 20 or more people. It was the monthly hiking trip organized by the local outdoors club. This was my first time going and I was looking forward to seeing the countryside on foot and meeting some new people. I wasn't disappointed, and they even managed to give a normal hiking trip some spanish flare.

We drove about 45 minutes east of Coru~a to a small town named Carballo. The trail head lay just south of the town, but we unloaded the bus in Carballo just to have a morning coffee and socialize for 20 minutes. I felt like I was on a field trip. I had a met a German girl the day before at an Italian Flash Mob (the humor is implicit) and had told her about the event, and was surprised to see her that morning. We hit the trail at about 9 and there was still frost on the ground, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining like it should on a Sunday. It was great. My friend, Franziska, and I stood out for being the youngest people there and the only foreigners. It was nice, though, because everyone was very friendly and interested in us. We practiced Spanish more than I ever have in an extended period. The trip was a pleasant 20 km walk through fertile pine forest and old villages, and the time was spent between good conversation and peaceful thought. Every so often, we'd come across a single house with smoke billowing from the chimney, or an ancient church surrounded by a sprinkling of houses. We stopped in one such place for lunch, when 25 of us swept into a house/cafe and proceeded to have beer, coffee, and a shot of liquor cafe with our lunches. How Spanish!

We passed a couple of gentle waterfalls, many barking dogs, and a lot of countryside which reminded me of medieval times with peasants picking their crops and hens roosting in the yard. We finished around 6 and stopped again for a coffee/beer and chat on the way home. It was a very nice day and I look forward to next month's excursion. I failed when it comes to picture taking because my batteries died soon into the hike.

is boredom life´s antagonist?

written from a non-spiritual point of view...What is life about? yes, yes so philosophical, but it´s one of the most natural questions to ask. Excluding those people with the luxury of deep and unwavering faith in a Christian god that demands a certain behavior and lifestyle, life would seem, I think, to be a pursuit of happiness, success or survival. Yet these three things have such subjective meanings.

Happiness is a fleeting sensation. Sure, there are scientific and psychological studies that pretend to whittle the mystery of gainable and sustainable happiness down to a list or process, but I pessimistically don´t think the achievement of such a thing is possible. But I have no reason to think that is possible, though, being that have lived what i consider to be a happy life until now. But my worry and doubt comes from the acknowledgement that the things that make me happy now will not bring me said happiness in the future. Sure, sports and reading and music will always bring me a degree of well-being, but will my current lifestyle, one void of want of nice and often material things, marriage, or children stay buried under the blissful protection of the charmed life that I  have now?  I have not suffered the life-altering shock that i have watched in so many movies, and I do not know how I will handle it when that assumed day arrives, whether it be news of cancer, death of a loved one, or prolonged impoverishment. It´s equally hard to define what exactly makes me happy now and why it does so. I think part of it stems from the human quality of finding happiness through sociability. For this reason, I count myself lucky to have been born and raised in the Southern culture that holds friendship and good times to a very high standard.

So, for some, wouldn´t success in life be equal to prolonged (dare i say permanent) happiness? This inferring that happiness comes with the absence of all things that reduce happiness: disease, pain and sorrow...etc. But when those things do happen, there seems to be two things that help immensely: money and or strong relationships with family and friends. I´ll try to skip over the cliche of money vs. happiness by saying that sure it helps, but is it a worthwhile lifetime commitment? Or is pride in one´s achievements, no matter how big or small they be, or the ability to improve other people´s lives while improving your own, a definition of success? For me, a combination of the 3 would be paramount.

And then there is the ancient definition of success: survival. It was so plain and simple then. But then we evolved right? Our interests, desires and mobility adapted and changed and we began to want more out of life than mere survival. We arrive to present times when our sheer technological and evolutionary advancement has given life, for most people, a plethora of paths, options, or meanings. Now i can define personal success as climbing a mountain or seeing 40 countries, when 100 years ago this was not factored into the equation. Now, i can define success by having my own internet business or reading 5 books a week on a Kindle. But, there still exist many people that only define success by putting food on the table, and this is what separates the West from the Other. But it is nice to know, that no matter how hard it might be, the Other still exists within my Western framing of the world, and that if need be, i can define myself in their terms, no matter if it requires a redefining of what happiness means to me. But hey, i don´t know exactly what that is anyway, i just know that it currently comes to me naturally, and i´m grateful for that.

Note: does this sound like a self-help article? I started writing with the intention of talking about boredom being the biggest obstacle in life, and that finding ways to cure boredom can ultimately lead to happiness and success. So would life then be about not being bored?...because no one wants to be bored to death.

a word on homeless people

A Word on Homelessness

On any given night there are 564,000 homeless people in the United States, giving it the deplorable distinction of having one of the highest rates of homelessness among developed nations. Given that politicians frequently debate this issue, it is valuable to give it some consideration and look at how other countries handle it.

With the recent economic downturn, homelessness has become a bigger issue in Spain. This may seem logical considering the current rate of unemployment in the country, but historically the government has taken measures to protect the poor and disadvantaged in its country. However, things have changed since the crisis began and the government began tightening its belt. Couple this with the skyrocketing number of evictions due to payment default and you have the makings of a social disaster. Interestingly, the attitude of these less fortunate people, and that of the government towards them, is notably different than in the U.S.

Begging in Spanish cities is not the same that you see in Los Angeles or New Orleans, where you sometimes feel like the person is conning you or guilting you into giving a little bit. It may happen that way in Spain, but overall, it is a simpler statement: "I´m poor, the economy is horrendous in this country, can you give me some change?" Local governments  and the general population seem to understand the situation; there seems to be a lot more sympathy and understanding that this could happen to anyone at anytime.

This sympathy is reflected in the attitude of people in Spain and the U.S. A great example is that, with a severe cold front approaching one week in Galicia, the local authority visited the banks to drop off coats, hot drinks and blankets to the homeless as they took shelter in the ATM rooms. This would not readily happen in the U.S. because the interests of the business would supersede that of the individual. The homeless person would not be allowed to sleep in the ATM room because it might disturb more fortunate patrons, patrons that fear the homeless. Granted, there are institutions that provide for the homeless here in the United States, but in general, they are somewhat scorned in this country. There is less solidarity, and this attitude bleeds in to the rest of the country's culture and identity.

The United States built itself around the sacredness of private property, and its cultural identity grew out of the assumption that it is of the utmost importance. While there is no doubt that it is important and must be protected, it is increasingly relevant to study other countries' ideologies and adjust our national consciousness if it is found that we can learn from them.