Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Breakfast as usual (toast, jam, colacao) with Jennifer and then it’s off to school. It seems as though class starts earlier each day, but really it’s that I’ve just been staying out too late. Thank goodness I at least have all my work done.

Today is the day to present our first literal translations of the poems we’ve worked on in our small groups. Cortney, Carin, and I present our rough translation of Nocturno. We had a little trouble with how repetitive the sentence structure is—it sounds much better in Spanish than in the direct translation to English. I am beginning to truly understand how much more rhythm there is in the romance languages! Tony and Giuseppe assure us that we’re on the right track, but give us some direction (read: specific constructive criticism). It’s hard to imagine that an eleven-line poem could require so many drafts and revisions! It gets tricky because the three of us girls all have different ideas of what sounds good, what makes the most sense, and we all like different ideas. But that’s why the groups are helpful—the sharing of ideas will hopefully result in a better translation.

After class I take Isar to the supermarket. Isar is an Italian student and is feeling under the weather so we’re on a mission to find vitamins. We detour through the open-air market and look at the beautifully stacked vegetables and fruit. After a glimpse of a foot-lomg plus cown tongue hanging from a hook, Isar doesn’t want to take a tour of the meat section with me, so we bail and head to the supermarket. Sadly, the supermarkets in Spain are not the catchall shopping destinations like they are in the U.S. We don’t find vitamins and head home for lunch.

Isabel spoils me with seafood and today is no exception! Soup with giant squid called choco… it’s incredible! I always overeat at Isabel’s table and start cracking jokes about taking my food-baby to the beach. Where else would I spend my afternoon in Cádiz?

After the beach no one is at home in the apartment when I return. It’s cooled down a little bit, so I decide to go for a run. I brought all my running gear, and I’ve been far too lazy. I set out and am instantly grateful for my iPod and headphones when it seems like every guy on the street has a comment for the blonde girl jogging in leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. Too bad, I can’t hear you!

I run straight down my street until I meet the road that curves around the edge of the peninsula. I stay on the sidewalk as best I can, but this is not a pedestrian culture accustomed to runners. I get caught up behind people doing the Spanish shuffle and end up running in the street alongside the parked cars until I get to the wide camino that starts at La Caleta. As I get to the main entrance to the beach I run into Becky, Amy, and Megan who think I’m crazy for running in long legs and sleeves. More sweat! I explain. We agree to meet up later and I keep running. It seems like everyone is staring at me. I try to reason that it’s because I’m totally covered up, or maybe it’s because I’m the only female runner out, and one of the only runners period, or maybe it’s that in the wind my blond ponytail is screaming out behind me like a lion’s mane, or maybe it’s because I run funny…

When I get back, there’s still no one home, so I shower and get dressed for the evening. I call the girls to meet up with them and walk down to Plaza San Juan de Dios, which is almost to the Gate of Cádiz. They’re all eating at a little Andalucían restaurant with a friend Becky made while she was in Sevilla for the weekend. Nicolas is from Paris and is a very sweet, very French guy. His English is practically perfect and he speaks no Spanish. I’ve enjoyed the sort of international cast of characters that I’ve had the chance to meet on this trip so far. It’s always refreshing to have positive interactions with people from different countries and different cultures. Maybe I’ve grown up since I last traveled to Europe, or maybe sentiments have changed, but it seems as though I am more welcomed or accepted as an American than in the past. Perhaps it’s the promise of change…

We’ve been in Cádiz for one week now and we’ve managed to establish only two places to spend our evenings—we hit both tonight: the beach and the Irish pub. I pulled out my high heels for the second time this trip and end up trading shoes with Amy in the bar so she can learn to walk in heels! We manage to keep the evening pretty mellow and I’m not out that late… but it’s all relative.