Thursday, June 26, 2008

Mundaka, the World of Water

June 26, 2008 - Mundaka, Spain

At least that´s what the Romans called this little town on the coast, 20 minutes north of Gernika.  Derived (or evolved, rather?) from the Latin "mundusaqua" or "mundus aquae"¨mundus¨= world, and "aqua" = water.  Thank you, Nikki Romani at Boise High School.

Daniela and I took turns jumping off the stone walls on the entrance to the harbor.  It wasn´t very high up, maybe 20, 30 feet, but still enough time for your body to realize it´s in free fall, curse the brain for making such a decision, and fueling the fire for more jumping with a spike of adrenaline.  Oh, to be young and in Spain...
Coming to towns like this reminds me of how young and naive the US is, especially the West where I grew up.  For example, we were walking along the stone that walls the harbor, and came across a huge cannon.  I thought it was a memorial for something, but nope.  Turns out it was an actual cannon that the town used to defend itself from attacks from the sea.... and IT WAS STILL THERE.  After what, 600, 800 years? 1000?  Bueno, anything beyond 100 years old is pretty old for us, though we have sufficient aridity in our air to preserve such things.  Iker informed me that where we were standing, next to the cannon, was where Sir Francis Drake (described to me as "el corsario legendario, Seer Frahnthis Drah-kay")   disembarked from his ship on a visit to Mundaka.  And I was standing on it. 
Oh, and the surfing.  Mundaka hosts the World Championships for surfing (and you´d know it by the tiny surf shop that sells Billabong t-shirts for at least 30 euro), but seeing the tiny beach you wouldn´t think it.  You have to get out past the sandbars and harbor, where the waves really hit.  Remind me to learn to surf, but that´s for New Zealand. One step at a time, gumshoe.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Midsummer´s Eve, y la Fiesta de San Juan


June 25, 2008 - Galdakao, Spain

San Juan (the celebration of St. John the Baptist), was apparently another one of those Christianization phenoms where instead of stamping out the pagan holiday, they just attached a Christian name or significance to it (like Christmas, Easter, etc.)  San Juan, celebrated June 23rd, is the celebration of midsummer.  I don´t know if it´s celebrated the same everywhere, but in the Basque country it´s really popular, and in the Catalonia region of Spain, it´s a national holiday.

In Galdakao (close to Bilbao in the province of Bizkaia), a huge bonfire is built at the center of the plaza.  Andra Mari, the dance group of Galdakao that we´re friends with, did a big fancy performance in full costumes.  There were guys dances around the bonfire, and the girls made circles and sang traditional songs around it.

There´s something very tribal and ominous about fires, something sorta pagan, and that combined with the reenactment of ancient rituals makes for a really cool experience for me.  Fires were arguably the first huge discovery of mankind (except maybe the opposite sex, Lay-Z-boys, and mac n´cheese) and anything that reminiscent our anthropological roots, I think, is very powerful.

After the traditional dances are finished, the entire village gets involved.  A huge crowd forms around the fire, and everyone jumps over it.  Kids, adults, parents holding babies, etc.  I asked about it, and apparently when you jump over the fire, you burn all the bad spirits inside you.  Our friend Iker also added that it was linked to witch-burning, but since the pagans were often considered witches, I´m to assume that it was a later Christian addendum, and I´ll just stick with it being for good luck.  People also threw slips of paper into the fire and burned them; be they confessions or wishes for the following year, I don´t know.  Either way, it´s pretty cool.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

the belated arrival and $9 sandwiches

Wow, today has been a fiasco.  After missing our Paris to Bilbao flight b/c the booking hadn´t allowed us enough time to transfer planes, we were switched to the next plane to Bilbao (which would come in 4 more hours) and were supposed to be awarded with food vouchers to make up for the mistake of the airlines, so that we might be spared the ungodly cost of noshing at the airport du Paris, where the bad US dollar exchange rate combined with outrageous airport prices made for a meal most dear (dear as in caro, not dear as in querido).  We when realized that we hadn´t been given the promised vouchers, we went back to the Air France ticket desk, and from there were sent to the Delta ticket desk because supposedly since it was Delta´s fault, only they could award them.  Delta sent us back to Air France, etc. etc. long story short, I ended up spending the equivalent of 9 US dollars on a very small sandwich.

That would not have been a big deal, except for that we were carrying fairly heavy daypacks, it was about 80 degrees (F) with 80% humidity in the airport (which later enabled my body´s production of ¨eau du dirty European,¨ that olfactory experience we all know and love), we felt like walking zombies, and had the sneaking suspicion that non of these people knew what they were talking about and just wanted to get rid of us.

Anyway, we´re in the hostel Don Claudio in what might be considered the Garden City quarter of Bilbao.  Even Mireya, who picked us up at the airport, didn´t know where it was and had to look it up on GPS to take us there.  I have internet, though, that tenuous lifeline through which I have always been able to ward off all homesickness.

the belated arrival and $9 sandwiches


Bilbao, Spain --
Wow, today has been a fiasco.  After missing our Paris to Bilbao flight b/c the booking hadn´t allowed us enough time to transfer planes, we were switched to the next plane to Bilbao (which would come in 4 more hours) and were supposed to be awarded with food vouchers to make up for the mistake of the airlines, so that we might be spared the ungodly cost of noshing at the airport du Paris, where the bad US dollar exchange rate combined with outrageous airport prices made for a meal most dear (dear as in caro, not dear as in querido).  We when realized that we hadn´t been given the promised vouchers, we went back to the Air France ticket desk, and from there were sent to the Delta ticket desk because supposedly since it was Delta´s fault, only they could award them.  Delta sent us back to Air France, etc. etc. long story short, I ended up spending the equivalent of 9 US dollars on a very small sandwich.
That would not have been a big deal, except for that we were carrying fairly heavy daypacks, it was about 80 degrees (F) with 80% humidity in the airport (which later enabled my body´s production of ¨eau du dirty European,¨ that olfactory experience we all know and love), we felt like walking zombies, and had the sneaking suspicion that non of these people knew what they were talking about and just wanted to get rid of us.
Anyway, we´re in the hostel Don Claudio in what might be considered the Garden City quarter of Bilbao.  Even Mireya, who picked us up at the airport, didn´t know where it was and had to look it up on GPS to take us there.  I have internet, though, that tenuous lifeline through which I have always been able to ward off all homesickness.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Leavin' soon


I'm procastinating packing, messing about on the internet, my room is a pile of clothes and toiletry bags, my mom is yelling at me to hurry up... the trip is getting close.
Just now, it's getting to the point where I'm excited.  It takes me awhile before all the upcoming excitement becomes tangible for me.  It will probably not fully manifest itself until we get to the airport.

Leavin' Soon


About to leave for Gaztemundu 2008.  I'm procastinating packing, messing about on the internet, my room is a pile of clothes and toiletry bags, my mom is yelling at me to hurry up... the trip is getting close.
Just now, it's getting to the point where I'm excited.  It takes me awhile before all the upcoming excitement becomes tangible for me.  It will probably not fully manifest itself until we get to the airport.