Tag Archives: summers

And so, we come full círculo.

I mean, this is may last passion post?!

As crazy as that seems to write, indicating that my Freshman semester has come and gone, what’s even crazier to me is that next year at this time I will be almost done with a semester in Seville, Spain.  Well, ideally.  But applied! And as long as they don’t find a reason to say no, my heart is set on Andalusia.  As hot, as dry, as wonderful, and as scary as it will be.

Seville, Spain

See, upon applying for the program, I decided al último momento to switch from the Liberal Arts program to the Advanced Liberal Arts program.  Big deal, you say. Congrats.  But GUYS.  No longer will I be another American foreigner in Cursos para los Extranjeros – or courses for foreigners – that, while in Spanish, are basically just surrounding myself with other Americans who think they’re being immersed in the culture but are only kinda-sorta.  I mean, how in the world are you supposed to really meet the Spanish people, specifically Spanish college students, if you’re cooped up with a bunch of Americans for classes? Nope. I will be a full-blown Universidad de Seville student with Spanish peers, Spanish professors, and the expectation that I can understand and return the fluent (and rapid) Spanish of Southern Spain.  Needless to say, my first month or so will be daunting.. but.  It’s worth it for the authentic experience, right?

Perhaps, throughout my entire blogging experience this semester, I have learned enough about sending my thoughts into the internet to be inspired to start a blog once I am in Spain.  Beyond my adventures in Seville, I could write of my weekend mini-visits to other European destinations – whatever those may be (but I hope they are many!) Rather than a blog of preparation (which honestly, I can only do so much while still here in America), I could offer tales of my fails, successes, loves, hates, and all-around aventura. Kind of like Eat, Pray, Love, except a little less cool and hopefully without the preceding mental breakdown.  But who DOESN’T stalk people who are in foreign countries on the internet? Oh, maybe that’s just me, the wannabe full-time traveler.

Anyways, stalk me in nine months, people.

Hola amigos – para la última vez!

Today, although I have often times throughout the semester linked you all to oodles of fantastic Latin music, I have indeed misled you a bit.  You, even a lot of my links to favorite Daddy Yankee songs – well, he’s Puerto Rican.  And sure, Colgando en tus Manos featured Spanish Marta Sanchez, but meanwhile, her song’s other half – Carlos Baute – is actually Venezuelan.  Pitbull? Uh…American. Awkward. (Although, in his defense, he’s from Miami and Cuban parents). All our favorite booty-bumping Shakira songs?  Well, while she may certainly have a thing for Spanish soccer players….she’s Colombian.

Although this is indeed a Spanish-themed blog, I don’t believe I have fully been leading you all astray; in reality, Latin music is often grouped together as the cultures and music of Hispanic countries are so deeply influenced by each other.  Plus, their common ancestor, if you go back to before los conquistadores, is indeed Spain.  Also, these songs comprise a sort of universal Latina “Top 20”, aka the songs you would more often than not find in a Zumba class. But here and now, I will disclose some actual Spanish music by region…you know, from Spain.

Flamenco – Yes, we have touched on this before.  Although also a dance, Flamenco is a genre of music from Southern Spain generally comprised of a classical guitar and singing.

Aragon – Although varying by region, Jota is a type of music popular in all of Spain, and it can feature guitars, bandurrias (aka..special guitar),  lutes (another special guitar), oboe-like instruments called dulzainas, drums, and even sometimes bagpipes.

Northwest Spain – Bagpipes in Spain? Actually, yes! This region is known for its music dating back to the middle ages:

Basque Country –  Defined by the use of accordion and tambourine, the music accompanying the trikitixa originated in the 19th century, and is thought to have come from Italian and French railway workers from the Alps.

I’ll admit it: I’m cheating a little bit this week.

Alfonsina Storni is not Spanish.  BUT, she was an Argentine born in 1892, she is indeed Hispanic, and her work has recently caught my attention in my current Spanish Literature class. Storni has a tragic story remniscient of many great writers; she suffered from depression while maintaining a life in Buenos Aires of motherhood, teaching, acting, and writing.  She was influenced by many other great Latin American writers of the time, such as Frederico Garcia Loca  and  Horacio Quiroga. In the end, knowing of her fate handed to her by incurable breast cancer, she took her own life in 1938 by walking into the sea.

Beyond an interesting albeit tragic biography, Storni’s poems, plays, and other works were realistic, passionate yet spiteful, sensual, and/or feminist. Particularly, she examined the gender double standard, as well as criticized her perceived oppression of women.  In my favorite poem of the class thus far — and also my favorite item in her broad collection of literary work — Storni expresses her spitefulness in the face of the unfairness.  Below is “Tu me quieres blanca”.  It may look long, but simply read and think… even if that means you must skip to the English translation.  Think about her sour tone, her frustration, her use of word-painted images of nature.

TÚ ME QUIERES BLANCA

Tú me quieres alba,
Me quieres de espumas,
Me quieres de nácar.
Que sea azucena
Sobre todas, casta.
De perfume tenue.
Corola cerrada

Ni un rayo de luna
Filtrado me haya.
Ni una margarita
Se diga mi hermana.
Tú me quieres nívea,
Tú me quieres blanca,
Tú me quieres alba.

Tú que hubiste todas
Las copas a mano,
De frutos y mieles
Los labios morados.
Tú que en el banquete
Cubierto de pámpanos
Dejaste las carnes
Festejando a Baco.
Tú que en los jardines
Negros del Engaño
Vestido de rojo
Corriste al Estrago.

Tú que el esqueleto
Conservas intacto
No sé todavía
Por cuáles milagros,
Me pretendes blanca
(Dios te lo perdone),
Me pretendes casta
(Dios te lo perdone),
¡Me pretendes alba!

Huye hacia los bosques,
Vete a la montaña;
Límpiate la boca;
Vive en las cabañas;
Toca con las manos
La tierra mojada;
Alimenta el cuerpo
Con raíz amarga;
Bebe de las rocas;
Duerme sobre escarcha;
Renueva tejidos
Con salitre y agua;
Habla con los pájaros
Y lévate al alba.
Y cuando las carnes
Te sean tornadas,
Y cuando hayas puesto
En ellas el alma
Que por las alcobas
Se quedó enredada,
Entonces, buen hombre,
Preténdeme blanca,
Preténdeme nívea,
Preténdeme casta.

Translation:

You want me white

You want me to be the dawn
You want me made of seaspray
Made of mother-of-pearl
That I be a lily
Chaste above all others
Of tenuous perfume
A blossom closed

That not even a moonbeam
Might have touched me
Nor a daisy
Call herself my sister
You want me like snow
You want me white
You want me to be the dawn

You who had all
The cups before you
Of fruit and honey
Lips dyed purple
You who in the banquet
Covered in grapevines
Let go of your flesh
Celebrating Bacchus
You who in the dark
Gardens of Deceit
Dressed in red
Ran towards Destruction

You who maintain
Your bones intact
Only by some miracle
Of which I know not
You ask that I be white
(May God forgive you)
You ask that I be chaste
(May God forgive you)
You ask that I be the dawn!

Flee towards the forest
Go to the mountains
Clean your mouth
Live in a hut
Touch with your hands
The damp earth
Feed yourself
With bitter roots
Drink from the rocks
Sleep on the frost
Clean your clothes
With saltpeter and water
Talk with the birds
And set sail at dawn
And when your flesh
Has returned to you
And when you have put
Into it the soul
That through the bedrooms
Became entangled
Then, good man,
Ask that I be white,
Ask that I be like snow,
Ask that I be chaste.

Ah yes, one of the grand hallmarks of a freer, more liberal European culture:  Nude Beaches. And yes, there are plenty in Spain.

While many different countries and cultures feature their own special groups of Naturist societies (we often like to call them Nudist colonies), nude beaches in Spain, as well as many other parts of Europe, are not necessarily about making a public declaration of a personal philosophy of constant l’hygiène de vie, or an adoption of “a lifestyle in harmony with nature, expressed through social nudity, and characterized by self-respect of people of different opinions and of the environment” of actual naturists. Rather, nude beaches are merely a cultural norm (or, at the very least, a cultural option) for sun-worshipping along the Mediterranean – one that allows Europeans and American tourists alike the freedom to experience sun and sea  completely unhindered.

One with nature?

While controversial to a point, this is virtually a non-issue in Europe.  The right to decide what you can decide to wear or not wear, including the right to decide to be naked, is permitted within the bounds of Spanish law. There exist a variety of spectrums of beaches and their accompanying rules and regulations for beach-going; some may require clothing, while conversely some may require nudity, and others operate on loose standard of tolerance.  Obviously, however, many Americans would be extremely uncomfortable and such loose regulations of skin-cover, with some directly denouncing the beaches’ morality altogether.  However, whether or not you personally would be willing to adopt a When it Rome attitude and strip down in the south of Spain, many of the preconceptions of these nude beaches are misplaced.

You see, these beaches are not meant to be sexual.  They strictly prohibit any sort of sexual behavior; and it is socially unacceptable to stare. Rather, beach-goers are encouraged to simply be and left alone to revel in the freedom of swimming or sunbathing sans suit.  But, would we Americans be able to do that, seeing as it is such a novel concept?  Would many instead be entranced by what is usually forbidden? Or, much like the eventual desensitization of the sexuality of a bare ankle, or wrist, or any other body part that was once in history considered sexual in nature, would we be able to get over it to think nothing of it?  Ultimately, our consideration of nude beaches poses a question regarding the role of culture in defining what exactly is sexually stimulating, or at the very least what is socially acceptable.

And. Finally. For the bold commenters: would you do it?!