Spirit Centered Lessons on Loss & Greed with the Olympus E-Volt 300
(Or Being Saved by a Point and Shoot Canon) Easter Sunday & Resurrection

In the midst of all the images of impermanence connected with Las Fallas and having talked with David about the similarities between the burning of the Fallas and  Tibetan Buddhist sand paintings, and in the throes of shooting a Good Friday procession honoring the death of Jesus, I had an incredible opportunity to see how I cling to images.  Having downloaded my Last Day of Fallas photos onto a DVD, I put the DVD into my computer to decide which photos would make it onto the blog.  I heard a rrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr sound in the disk drive.  This is not the sound of a DVD uploading images.  When I tried to recover them on my external DVD drive, the same searching, grinding sound.  My heart fell and the disappointment was palpable.  David seeing my disgust tried to find a way to recover the images.  At this point in time I don’t have a real back-up system until I select the images I want on the web.  My external hard drive has broken and its replacement does not function with my computer.  The pinnacle of Fallas, gone.  

So, here it is.  I am learning again that putting too much energy around images has a cost.  Feeling greed and envy about images, my camera’s images, the time I have taken to create incredible images of beauty and commentary on what I see, has to be balanced.
So before I went to bed I read some of Tsong-kha-pa’s Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment. First I saw a section on lascivious behavior, then a section on mindfully being with death. Then a tidbit on judgment and feelings of superiority caught my attention.  I was aware of being the photographer, capturing the images, being in the right place to get the right shot.  Judging others with point and shoots taking photos from miles away.  In the end it is David’s point and shoot that salvaged images of the last day and night of Fallas. 

 I am sorry for my elitist thoughts and am truly aware that in me I have the tendency to focus with desperation on getting the image I want.  In trying too hard, I put at risk the very beauty I am hoping to capture.  So breathe, take in what is out here in the world without wrenching it from the site with my intense desire to get the shot. Photography is about flow not grabbing and stealing an image. Surely the death of my images offers room for reflection.  I am struck that my reaction to losing the images was not righteous anger, but “oh, let them go-easily and gently.”  This is progress.  We get so many opportunities to be reminded of this simple and easy teaching.  The harder we fight, the less in the moment we are.

I felt the reactions of others on Good Friday as I pushed into places where I could see. My intensity was over the top.  It became a photo shoot, not a being there with the camera with people in a loving way.  There is a sense of pride that percolates in me as I look for the “shot”.  It’s not about wrestling the image to the ground, but seeing how it emerges. That is where the beauty is.  The tourist mentality of “never being here again” can take over, tarnishing the experience of being in  this place.  So I am making a choice to be gentler, more playful with my camera and with me.  See where this little reminder takes me.

On a more humorous note.  Portable Passport external drives don’t like tile floors, especially when they fall about three feet.  Alas, use your backup systems doubly well. But if I had, I wouldn’t have had this valuable moment of seeing what I do with the camera that stunts my growth.

Well my adrenaline went into overdrive and we had walked out of my perfect, close position on Calle Reina to get closer to the oncoming processions.  I couldn’t see over the heads of all these tall Spaniards, so I was desperate- not to miss these shots. I was obnoxious, trying to move into the crowd and find little holes under armpits, in between children’s heads for my camera and the on-board flash. I was trying to get in position with the street lights to get a little more light.  There were other people taking photos, lots with video cameras and phones, and me pop,pop,popping away.  So I calmed down, took a deep breath and we walked further down the street and found an opening that didn’t require all the jockeying for position.  It is eminently clear that I was NOT one of the people, but a gawking tourist. 

When I lost my fear of not getting anything on my precious flash card, I was able to get better shots in places where the light was adequate. So, Ryan, it’s about being in the Zen place of No Mind, and capturing what shows itself to you.  The photos are a little grainy, but they are here.  The area is a little grainy as well. Old buildings, tiny multistory ones, beautiful palm trees and lights, and lots of storefronts that are barricaded over with weathered plywood.  There were lots of bars in the area and clubbing places. This is three streets from the beach near Las Arenas- the Playa.

 The Last Days of Las Fallas March 17-19th

I am writing this two days after the end of Las Fallas.  It was impossible to write as we were experiencing the process.  While the notion of creating gigantic and small creative structures, beautifully painted and crafted, only to burn them up (the term here is cremá) , planned but ephemeral, is quite Buddhist –not unlike the Tibetan Buddhist Sand Paintings- it is in an entirely different cultural milieu.  Many of the Fallas are engaging in political, satirical commentary, some are whimsical and downright sexual.  Still the entire Fallas journey is one that builds and builds.  It’s an evolving ritual on parade and evokes the deep sensibility that many Spaniards have for tradition and anarchy.  It is not quite the wanton drunken brawl that New Orleans has been in Mardi Gras, probably because there are still religious overtones to the events.  There is profane and profound happening in what we witnessed.

On Monday, March 17th, David and I sent Elisabeth off to Madrid at the Valencia Train Station at noon, as we came out of the metro it was like walking into Disneyland.  Parades happening, crossing the street to the train station was a challenge.  Had to wait for an opening in the parading Fallas.  You will see lots of the parading women in the photos.  We have since discovered that the dresses they wear often cost as much as 1500 euros.  So as you look at the dresses know they are quite an investment.  So the Fallas gives you an opportunity to wear the dress as much as possible.  

The noise in the streets includes  constant auditory memories of little boys and not so little boys lighting firecrackers that are ubiquitous.  Even as I write this two days later there are sporadic cracklings of fireworks, the really loud popping kind.  If we were in Baghdad we would be terrified.  David and I realized that we are so conditioned in the US to know that firecrackers are illegal and  highly governed that we see them as dangerous.  Here, you see boys 6 and up lighting coils of firecrackers, stepping back and grinning while their little time bombs are ready to blow.  So Fallas is not a quiet time.

A huge mascletá was happening as Elisabeth rode into the  sunset toward Madrid, quite a send off. Think of 1,000 ---21 gun salutes. During the day. In the main square of town people are just smashed together. Like sardines into the square, observing from every possible perch from building balconies, atop the govt. buildings.  Wherever you are there’s an energy moving you to the square,from all possible directions people are converging.  Not running but quickly walking toward their goal at a pretty brisk pace.  People from all over the world were here to see this process unfold.  

On the 17th, we opted to avoid the fireworks but heard it while we walked away.  At about 4:30 p.m. we were looking for a bathroom, sat down at a café on Guillem de Castro to earn the right to use their bathroom.  Surprise, we were at the hub for many of the Fallas Companies bringing flowers to be placed on a huge pyramid of wood outside the Cathedral at the Plaza de la Virgen.  Lots of carnations.  There were little girls carrying them in their arms wearing dresses far bigger than they were. Older women, abuelas in their fiesta dresses, some in wheelchairs, Young women pushing strollers of sleeping babies all decked out in brocade finery.  The men were wearing headscarves, vests, and sandals typical of the area. And photos being taken everywhere.  You will see in the pictures how stunning people look in their outfits.  It’s good this occurred in the Spring because I can imagine people passing out in the heat.  These dresses weigh about 20 lbs. You will also see how normal people are  --smoking in their fancy dresses, drinking beer.  But the processional is full of pageantry.  Huge flower displays sponsored by each Falla being rolled down the streets by men.  

And we caught this totally at random, because I had to pee.  As the parade wore on, at the Plaza de la Virgen where the bouquets of flowers are given to one of the men who receive the flowers then toss them up to the guys standing on the slats highest up on the platform,  you see women crying, bursting with feeling, at being allowed to be in the presence of this huge statue of the Virgen Mary with baby Jesus. 

Above is the backside of the Virgen. It is a monumental interaction.  Also, like the Rose Parade, the flowers are woven into designs that make a phenomenal cloak for the Virgen.  Mind you these parades of flowers take two days to accomplish.  At the end of the second day, the cloak designers who are the only ones who know what the design will be, have put the finishing touches on the platform.  We went back on the 19th to see the finished product.  It’s stunning.

We also dropped by, meaning we walked, out to the suburbs of Valencia to see the winning Falla.  While it was huge, it felt like Disneyworld with all the financial trappings of it.  They charged 5 euros to see it close-up.  This is rare, and it was nicely done, they spent 900,000 euros making it.  Same wealthy Falla has won 5 years in a row and this has changed the dynamics of the Fallas.  Lots of irritation that there is now no level playing field.  See David's point and shoot pictures in the photo section, coming soon.   His are the only extant photos of the end of Fallas, See Easter Sunday entry for explanation.

As we walked away from it, our hope in the satirical form of the Fallas was preserved as we saw a really pointed statement in a Falla that was more to our liking. It’s a punked out female singer, a guitarist, a graffiti artist.  Nou Campanar-the Disney version took all the fun out of the Falla.  Old Campanar-the punked version brought it back.

On Wednesday, we tromped back to the Metro, exhausted and went home to cool our heals until the little tiny Fallas in our village La Canyada were set to be burned.  Hustling to the Puerta del Sol square, there were lots of people with kids, older folks, (I am not one of them yet!)  All surrounded by kids setting off firecrackers into the crowds.  

We ate and drank with the locals while the children’s Falla burned, then the crowd changed.  The teenagers came out and with them the heavy artillery fireworks.  The adolescents were typically adolescent, but they did follow the advice of elders when there antics got a little too close, were a little too loud.  It’s remarkable that people don’t react to the explosions for the most part.  It’s just a part of the experience.  We, on the other hand, are going “Wow,” “Damn that was close.”  

I had my camera ready with tripod at the site of the cremá—ready to snap away.  But in the end all my careful planning went up in smoke.  The fireworks they set off to ignite the Fallas, so freaked out my camera that it wouldn’t even work. Way too much light.  So I ripped it off the tripod, changed the setting to automatic, and dodged the flaming debris falling from the sky to get a few interesting shots.  We didn’t know about the huge blasts of light, It would have been better to have a long lens and be on top of a building.  But No!  

We decided not to go into Valencia to see the big Fallas burn and good thing.  We saw the entire process on television when we got home .  It was like walking home to a deep thunderous drumbeat as the fireworks for the burning of all the other Fallas in the region started up.  But the television coverage was fixated on the “Queen” of the Fallas for 2008.  She is viewed as a huge symbol.  Like Miss America, she has to smile be at every event for six months and wear her dress, makeup and the Ebro hairstyle, the coiled braids over the side of the head.  Now that would get old.  But as they burned the Falla in the Ayuntamiento, they zeroed in on her face, there were tears.  This was the end of her reign as the Fallera Major—which is a huge honor.  I imagine today she is sleeping in for a few weeks. Not quite New Year’s Eve giving way to the new year, but Las Fallas ending is like a cycle ending.  Only to start up again with renewed vigor after the summer.   The huge irony is that the day after Las Fallas ends- after 6 weeks of intense activity, suddenly - emotionally as an observer you go from bands playing raucous marches, think John Phillip Sousa to  wailing and lamentation; from bright wild colors to Good Friday with the Nazarenos.  S

 Las Fallas mania is taking over here in Valencia.  This is an especially auspicious time because Las Fallas begins March 17-19 with spectacular fireworks displays. Mascletá is the term used for LOUD popping sounding fireworks.  Pyrotecnia is used for the big pretty displays.  Spaniards love things that go “Bang”.  But Fallas Week coincides with Holy Week, which is a rare phenomenon.  So there will be parades for Fallas, fireworks at midnight and on the 18th and 19th there will be burnings of the Fallas starting at 1:00 a.m., yes that’s in the morning. This also the week for Father's Day in Spain. So there are people on the streets until about 5 a.m.  Most people are on vacation, or little work is getting done.  The University of Valencia, Burjassot is closed all this next week for Fallas and Friday for Good Friday.  So there’s one good work day this week.  Easter week, this Sunday is Palm Sunday, then for the next two weeks there are festivals and parades with crosses at Malvarrosa Beach for Easter and Semana Santa.  Most people in Spain try to travel and take vacations at this time, so the travel agencies are doing a bustling business.  On the metro you hear people talking about whether they went to the Mascletá and yesterday I saw a baby, maybe a year old with a scarf around his neck with the symbols of one of the Fallero teams.  For those of you in Philadelphia, it’s very similar to the Mummer’s groups.  

Of course, the physical excitement of Las Fallas is visible everywhere downtown in Valencia.  Huge displays cover the streets with the Street Names and the Name of the Fallas in Lights. Neighborhoods take on responsibility for creating an artistic rendering of the sculpture that will grow to be almost  100 feet high.  Wednesday night Antonio Naveira and his wife Tata took us around the Ruzafa district, which has the most Falla sculptures (Ninots).  It was incredible.  Many of the streets are closed off, so driving a car is crazy.  We are including photos that we have taken of the Fallas we observed.  There is an air of Mardi Gras in the air.  When we went to dinner Wednesday night at Cinquenta Cinc, a wonderful restaurant at Calle de Reina ni Germania, the cab driver had to back down a one way street to get us out of Ruzafa.  All the other outlets were blocked.  So it was interesting.  You will see some of the amazing lights as well in the photos.  There are streets, four or five blocks long with Moorish motif lights that create stunning eye candy. 

There are rumors that the chief of the Fallas celebration has more responsibility and power in Valencia than the alcalde (mayor).  The only way to get around is by metro and the rail workers are on strike.  But a strike means there are altered hours, not that the whole thing is shut down.  Apparently this is an annual affair, power plays with the city and the unions.  Millions of people are coming to Valencia.  We have seen the visitors coming in on metros.  Most are coming for the Fallas AND Easter.  So it’s a double whammy.

Today Elisabeth and David are going downtown with David’s Spanish tutor, a really nice woman.  There is a mascletá at 2 p.m.-then they will try to find lunch (comida)in the city for lunch.  There is not a free, unreserved table at any restaurant in the city for these things.  So best bring your lunch. I have seen the mascleta before and was a little overdone by the 2 hours of walking we did on Wednesday night, so I will rest.  That was compounded by walking to the top of the Valencia Cathedral tower, the Miguelete.  Very narrow tower and at least 150 very steep stairs.  A railing on the side was a life-line.  But the view from atop was spectacular.  The sunset was amazing.

Elisabeth gets on the train to Madrid on Monday, 17th which should be interesting because her train leaves during a Mascletá.  So snaking through the crowds with luggage should be a real hoot.  Provided of course that getting on the metro is possible.  The buses won’t be running then because they are on strike….You get the picture.  We have enjoyed Elisabeth’s visit and know that she has by the number of pictures she has taken.  She’s almost finished transcribing her interviews from Turkey so that will be a big help to her research.  While we are immersed in this, Gwen is applying to Lehigh so is busy getting all her applications in.  Bless her heart!  That’s a lot of work. And it includes the regulation work in taking care of the house in Fountain Hill.  So we are grateful all around.

David and Elisabeth flew to Istanbul (Estambul in Spanish) on the first of March and were met at the airport by Ismail Kocayusufoglu(see photo of Ismail in photo section), David's former student at Lehigh.  He is now the proud father of three children, Faruk(8 years old) the youngest, Furkan (15) the oldest and a daughter Zeynap who is about 13 years old shown above with her mother,Aysun. Aysun was very generous with Elisabeth, helping her all the way.  Elisabeth told her she felt like she has a Turkish mother now.  Ismail took extremely good care of David and Elisabeth throughout their stay in Turkey.  They were able to see the historic buildings like the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofia the most important legacy of Constantine's conversion church in their last days spent in Istanbul.  They stayed in a little hotel known for location, walking distance to the famous sites.  I am using some of Elisabeth's pictures from the trip to illustrate what they showed me.  

When he picked them up they headed through Istanbul 5 p.m. traffic, which is quite intense to a roadside restaurant where they started their journey.  Ismail was very generous.  David did not have a pin number for credit card use in restaurants so ... it was difficult.  The first part of the week they were in Eskishehir Ismail's  University (Osmangazi).  He was instrumental in helping Elisabeth find women who spoke English at the University, to interview about the headscarf issue for Muslim women.  She is very excited that she now has a better understanding of the complicated terrain around which the headscarf issue is situated.  The other day when she was talking about her study, she said, "Now I feel like I am ready to write my thesis."  Having first hand discussions with the 12 Turkish Muslim women helped her to put the dynamics together in a way that she might not have had she just relied on literature reviews by other scholars.  So we thank Ismail and Aysun for their help in opening up Elisabeth's research and networking her with women willing to talk about their challenges and beliefs about wearing the headscarf.

David is still amazed by his Turkish academic experience.  First he was met by vice president of Ismail's university before he gave his talk to 200 undergraduates.  He was given a pen and a keychain.  After the talk he was taken to lunch with the vice president and give a beautiful ceramic plate. The next day he went to another university (Dumlupnar) and spoke to what he thought would be a faculty group.  Turned out to be faculty AND 250 more Turkish students.  It all went well.  He was doing historical talks about Poincare conjecture and other issues relevant to modern geometric research.  Afterwards, about 50 students waited outside while David talked with faculty.  They wanted to take his picture.  So if you are down and feeling low, go to Turkey-give a talk--they are extremely gracious and appreciative.  

They also had time to go touring in the countryside and saw incredible natural formations. Some you will see in the Turkey pictures here in this blog.  To give you a taste.  David and Elisabeth report that Turkish tea is offered at every turn, wherever they were.-stores, cafes, along with lots of yoghurt drinks and bottled water.  They were also treated to lots of lamb and meat as honored guests.

Elisabeth managed to pick up a bug, so had to go off and hide for a few days after she had finished her interviews.  But she has recovered well and is now discovering the difference between Castillian,Valencian and Mexican Spanish.  A lot to take in.  They brought back gifts, rugs, purses, pottery.  We have no idea how to get it back, but we will even pay the surcharge to get it on the plane.  

Apparently the journey to Turkey will continue, David has been asked to do a talk at a conference with 5 other foreign speakers July 1-4.  So he will turn around after we get back and he gets his summer work prepared and then he will go off to Turkey just  before Second Summer Session.  He expects to stay more in touch with Ismail and his mathematics. 

Traveling with saints all around you is an awe inspiring experience.  In the streets of Valencia and almost every little borough or pueblo, it's easy to see that history lives in the street names.  One particular saint keeps calling me- Santa Teresa of Avila, or Teresa de Jesus.  I have been reading her biography before we left and her masterpiece THE INTERIOR CASTLE.  The biography by Medwick Teresa of Avila is written for lay person and scholar alike.  Part of the omnipresence of Teresa is that there is so much with her memory embedded in the way of the cities themselves.

She was in her 60's when she wrote the Interior Castle, was tired and yet was told by authorities she had to write the book as advice fore her followers on spiritual matters. All this is taken from Mirabai Starr's introduction to her translation of The Interior Castle. 

So she said,"Beloved, I have no idea what to say here.  If you want me to do this thing,you're going to have to speak through me."  Nuns who witnessed the writing said that it was "like automatic writing. Her hands flew across the page, her face tilted upwards in a constant state of bliss. She wrote the whole manuscript in 2 months." 

So in her visions she created 7 dwellings as a vehicle for arriving at spiritual evolution. The first allows  you to meet the reptiles and demons whose soul goal is to thwart you in  your soul's journey to union. It is through prayer that Teresa emerged from the first dwelling, not unscathed but with soul in tact.  The second house is where we learn to tune out the clamor of the mundane world and tune into the delicate voice of God. She heard the voice of God through other souls on the path, and sacred literature. In the Third House you experience the dark night of th soul.  Nothing you do seems to make things go easier.  It's a point of being really stuck.  She says it is a test of humility.  If the soul can stop trying to figure out God with the mind and concentrate on feelings of the heart she can learn to surrender to that which is larger than herself.  Without boring you with all the details the first three dwellings are those where she evolves  through her own conscious effort, the last three are where God takes over.  The message then, for me, is not to think much but to love much and so to do whatever best awakens me to love."

Most of you are probably aware of her writings. They are relatively new for me. So I think my photography is going to change in a way, to look for those things that open my heart in Spain. Looking for the remnants of Teresa living and dead.

The latest A HA, was that my new bodyworker Novella Maddalena's practice is just off the Carrer de Santa Teresa in downtown Valencia. 17 La Bolseria, Valencia.  She has just come from Switzerland to start a practice here and she speaks English. Which made being there so easy. No struggle.  Her work is amazing.  In one session she was able to move me out of the body strains I had taken on for the whole trip, and some for my entire life.  I felt fully restored and ready to explore more.  To get here, pack, take care of last minute details, find a place to live, deal with the flu, and being in a flood of language that was passing right over my head, took all my energy.  Now I am reminded that I need to tap into the divine energy more and more, so I am not using up my little pocketful of personal power.

Our first apartamento in Plaza Merced, right next to the central market (Mercat Central) was 2 blocks away from Calle de Santa Teresa.  So it's like the Hansel and Gretal finding your way by leaving clues on the ground. 

Likwise, I ran into The Emoto exhibit at the Modern Art Museum in Valencia. 

www.masaru-emoto.net/english/entop.html

Had NO idea what was showing there.  To my amazement I went in and discovered a series of exhibits about body fluids, water, milk and blood.  Emoto's water crystals and the profound effects of intent on the water crystals were featured, then the milk section was of women squirting milk from their boobs into the ocean, into old men's mouths, into babies mouths.  The blood section involved a medical student (live) who was doing ultrasounds of people's hearts and giving them the print out of their hearts' functioning.  I spoke t o her.  She's doing a residency in cardiology but is waiting for it to start. So the good news is I have a heart that beats, thump, thump. The videos were by Bigas Luna, director of Jamon, Jamon a film that Javier Bardem.  the guy who won best supporting actor was in No Country for Old Men.  Actually it was quite interesting that the Emoto stuff was in mainstream museum in Spain.

Later that night I kept getting messages that what I needed,more than anything was to engage it a little self-reflection on the condition of my heart. Opening to those things that give joy, not rolling around in the misery of forcing myself to meditate.  So the next day I  went out for a walk in my barrio and adventured with my camera.  It's so obvious when we pay attention.  The gate pictures are part of that exploration. So that those gates are all closed tells me where I need to start.  Opening!

  As I was walking back to the metro, right across the street from the Modern Art Museum, I noticed a convento for discalced Carmelite nuns- right  across the street- a convent founded by Santa Teresa.  Discalced nuns are those who agreed to follow the HARD path of absolute dedication, discipline in service.  Very protected from the world. There is not even an inch through which you could see into the convent which covers an entire block with it's own chapel.  I would love to know  more about them, but clearly it's an insider job.   But the message was clear, it's all linked together.  The convent right across from the Museum.  There are different ways into your soul's work.  Art and intense submission.  Or maybe as we submit to photography, art, etc. we are practicing a discipline that is of Spirit. Thunk.  Interesting how spirit works.

Ever had a day when you looked back on it and wondered, "What was I thinking when I got out of bed?"  Today was one of those days.  We have had almost 35 mile an hour winds for two days and the pine trees that surround the house were bending all over the electric wires.  It's wild being on top of a hill when all the trees are swaying. The electricity in the house went out, I thought because we have had these gale force winds.  The internet connection died- my link to the free world.  I tried to recharge my cell phone at the grocery store- the telephone wouldn't accept my money.  Then I went back to the bank ATM machine to recharge and it was out of service.  And our house was freezing.  Visions of ice mummy-me being discovered when David returns from Turkey with Elisabeth. When this stuff happens in the US, I shrug it off and think- "Oh, well!"  In another country-though- you wonder what is it about you that is not up to the task.  The first thought may not be, what about this system doesn't work.

In my snit I called the landlady who happened to be in the Pyrenees up to her rear in snow-who said I can't call the electric company because I don't have the number with me.  Luckily she called her daughter who called me back with the name of the neighbor lady next door and the phone number for the police in La Canyada.  I wouldn't think to call the police if your power is out.  Alas, her daughter suggested that I check the circuit breakers, which I had not done.  Yes, I assumed there was a relationship between the wind blowing and the power going out--like it does at home. Nope, with the flip of a switch I was back in business.  Power going out had also affected the internet connection.  Lesson:  almost everything is a little issue. It's the language barrier that allows you to blow it up bigger than it should be.  However, I now have a year's supply of candles in case the lights do go out permanently.

What I realized from this little extravaganza is that with all the gates in front of houses like ours, you can't knock on someone's door for help.  I don't know how they do it.  Just think about it.  You have to know the person's phone number, ring them up to get help.  A very interesting experience of isolation.  I so feel for people in the U.S. who don't have English as a first language.

If I were operating in a hotel/community there would be built-in translators. Others who organize.

Living on the economy is challenging me to look at my normal reflex reactions of framing things as disasters.  I hope I move past this little shadow opportunity.  Jung was right, we all have one.There are new photo postings of my shadow and the barrio we live in with all its gated houses.  Yes, ours is gated too.  But it is a little isolating.  You have to choose to interact with others.  But it makes it a challenge to figure out how to knock on someone's door.  I take so much for granted.  So my shadow is catastrophic thinking. Anyone else out there share this little goblin?

David and Elisabeth are doing well in Turkey.  David gave a talk to 200 undergraduates had lunch with the University vice president and gives a talk to faculty tomorrow.  Elisabeth has interviewed 12 women about the Turkish headscarf issue and now seems to be cruising toward the finish line. So it's been a productive trip for all concerned.  Apparently it has been great for Ismail, David's former student as well.  Apparently having an American academic coming in does great things for you reputation.   Signing off until next time. 

I have not had the opportunity to see how dependent I am on having contact with my internet-connected folks.  Since we got hooked up to the Internet yesterday through many synchronicities, I have been obsessive about looking at web sites and trying to catch up with the news of the world.  

Here I have been reading El Pais, the nationally based newspaper, as well as the right wing rags.  It is hard to tell their bias, unless you know the underpinnings of the editorial policy and it's history.  However, it has been fascinating to see the election process here working.  Elections are March 9.  The ETA Basque terrorist group is threatening an action to disrupt the elections.  Hopefully it will not be a problem for David and Elisabeth who are flying in on the 9th from Turkey.  They will have to get to the Atocha rail station in Madrid to come to Valencia.  So say prayers for safety of Spain and them specifically that day.  You will remember that the Atocha station was bombed several years ago with lots of fatalities.  So hold them in the Light.

We saw a debate on tv the other night where the 2 presidential candidates, Rahoy (the conservative) and Zapateros (the socialist)  argue their respective positions.  The big conservative issue here is IMMIGRATION. Sound familiar?  The socialist position is about unifying a diverse population.  Sound familiar. It is a truly small world.  Here candidates on television for local offices keep saying, "Soy como Obama"  There is a world watching.  This Fallas Ninot pokes fun at the media and their coverage of the Queen Sofia.

Also the first academy award for a Spanish actor in No Land for Old Men was treated as a major coup for the Spanish film industry. 

David is recuperating as am I from the flu and it's aftermath.  But we have been taking Spanish medication that has lots of aspartame and sorbitol in it.  Really sweet.  That is formulated for the sweet tastes of Spaniards. But it seems to be doing something!  

The weather continues to be good today.  Warm and sunny.  There are clothes drying on the line outside.  And the pine trees are pushing their pollen out on every possible surface.  Entire streets were covered with the yellow stuff, It was so thick in the rain the other night I thought maybe it was paint.  

David will be speaking pretty fluently by the time he comes back.  He now has a Spanish tutor, Mona from the U.S. who lives in a little town north of here.  She is coming to the house. Amazing.  Until we meet again.  There are new pictures up of the Fallas sculptures.  If you are interested in Las Fallas just google it and check out the 2008 Fallas.  I will actually have the site I've seen on the next blog entry.

   February 22, 2008

The sun has just come out and its glowing on the terrace of the third floor of this place in the woods.  Had you asked me about the weather in Spain I'm afraid it would have been a lot like Pennsylvania from Sunday the 17^th until today, the 21^st.   It was cold and bitterly raining most of the week.  David was literally on his back during the worst of it with our friend la gripe. 

He thought he had gotten a light case of it, but no.  We didn't have a thermometer so went out and bought one for the occasion.  His temp easily was above 104.  That is with all the calculations for the Celsius thermometer.  We are always doing this is it "9/5" or "5/9" thing and add something.  Yes, high school chemistry was a LONG time ago. 

To honor the occasion, we rented all of the Star Wars episodes and David had his  sick little eyes fixed on the screen when they weren't closed.  Being sick in Spain is a lot like being sick in the U.S. except when you  go to the Farmacia here we sound like we are 2 year olds speaking baby talk.  I have to go with the least common denominator in terms of words to achieve the end result.  My sense  of humor is with me and I can only imagine what people on the other side of my words are smirking/smiling at.  I am sure I am quite creative in the way I put verbs and nouns together.  Glad to be a source of good humor for others.

A huge accomplishment for today was calling the guy, Pablo, who delivers propane to the house and requesting 4 more containers of propane-butero.  I guess it's butane.  We went through an entire unit of it trying to keep the house warm while David had the chills.  But I managed to sputter out our address and the number of units we needed AND they arrived.  I didn't screw up the address.  It's really humbling to not know how to put one of these containers on the heating unit.  When you are living on the economy with everyone else rather than in a hotel, things look really different.  It costs 13 euros per tank and in 2 weeks we have gone through almost 2 tanks.  So for 4 tanks I just gave Pablo 52 euros plus tip.  Poor guys had to haul these four heavy tanks up the hill to our house.  With the rain the truck wouldn't make it up the hill.  These guys don't need to work out.

Last week we ordered ADSL for the house- yikes- the Internet is coming.  The messenger from Telefonica arrived unannounced yesterday to give us the kit so we could install it.  That was the good news. He was supposed to call and make an appt. Nah!  He came in and vaguely ponted to the place he thought it would go.

Then we spent several hours trying to figure out which plugs went in which orifices of the visible system.  Alas, we think we are in for a bit of negotiation with the company as the line that is supposedly hooked up to the Internet line does not seem to have a phone attached to it.  Ironically, the Germans who ordered the box for the house, Birgitta and Jan, received a call here yesterday from a German friend who didn't know they weren't here.  I told the friend to thank them for putting in the line- but it was a little premature.

So we are hoping that by some miracle Birgitta will call us for the heck of it  and tell us what they had to do to get the system operational. David got a Math buddy here, Pacho to call Telefonica today to have them walk us through the instructions VERY SLOWLY.  They are not allowed to speak English with us even if they know it. 

Well, I'd like to be all chatty and tell you we have been traveling, but this week it's been using the metro and schlepping back and forth to get food at the market in Valencia. We now have a little old lady cart to roll to the metro, then to the downtown market.  I guess we are adjusting,  Yesterday I was so proud of myself for finding the elevator at the metro station so I could be self-sustaining and get the vegetable laden cart down into the bowels of the metro on my own.  However, the elevator outside at street level was not working.  I took the leap and started pushing the thing down the stairs.  One thing that's really nice here is that young men apparently can't  stand seeing older women in distress so this muscular young guy grabbed the bottom of the cart and hauled it down for me.

Luckily the "ascensor" was operating down to the train level. As I got out of the elevator I saw that my train to Lliria was there in the station. Panic.  Do I try to push on as the train is full?  I took one deep breath and shoved myself and the rolling bag overflowing with vegetables and water filters and….. onto the train with the help of a lovely young woman.  We just grinned at each other as we collapsed into the mass of humanity.  Saying prayers that this wouldn't be too much for the train. Mind you this is at 2:00 p.m. when everyone is going home for lunch.  I made it!

Spain seems to give much lip service to handicapped entrances and the like.  But like  so many places, there is more window dressing than reality.  If  I had been in a wheel chair it might have been a whole different thing.  There are lots of signs that indicate for handicap access.  But there are often steps in the way of the ramp. 

I will go into the University tomorrow and add this episode into the blog and add some pictures of La Canyada.   I have pretty much taken over the third floor for photo/computer time.  It's  now pretty warm thanks to the taste of natural gas.  I do miss electrical heat.  The gas aftertaste is a bit much for me, but I can go out and breathe air from outside if it's too much.  

Oh, and I made hummus today.  Boiled the garbanzos for a million hours and used a hand tool in the house that I'm sure is supposed to be for chopping small amounts of things.  Sort of like fingernail clippers or a tiny, tiny Cuisine Art blade on a long stick.  It took forever to squash the beans.  But after half an hour, we have hummus with plenty of garlic to scare away the bad guys.

We meet Elisabeth in Madrid next Friday,29^th of February, then she and David go off to Istanbul on Saturday morning.  Istanbul and Athens have had SNOW.  It's big news here.  Then I will have a week on my own before they come back for Las Fallas, the festival where they have papier mache puppets that are hauled all around town then all but one is burned on the 19^th of March.  It's regarded as the beginning of Spring here.

Here´s a little update. Today the 22nd I took lots of photos of the Ninots, the papier mache figures they will burn in a Mardi Gras like festival.  There are hunreds of them. So photos will appear shortly.  Think lots of figures that look like Disney characters, but Spanish ones.  Lots of sexy sculptures with women with extraordinarily large boobs.  Lots of photoshop to do.  David is back on his bike, although looking pretty pale and wan. 

Cheers, let us know what You are up to.

Much love, Paula and David

We are officially residing in La Cañada now through June.  We lived through a pretty harrowing couple of days waiting for the contract to be written by Isabella Cañas´ lawyer to discover that we had a contract. It´s remarkable that things work out, but they may hang you over the ledge a bit  before they finally come together. What doesn´t kill us makes us stronger.  This is a little "milagro".  Miracles are normal but with your guts wrapped up in knots, wondering if the deal would go through, it can be a little hair raising.  Yes and it would have been all my fault if we had to leave the hotel with nowhere to go but David´s office.  Don´t think they would have appreciated our sleeping on the hard tile floor.  But, alas- a miracle occurred. 

For those of you interested in snail mail our mailing address is: 

David Johnson or Paula Michal-Johnson, 

Calle 538 nº 10, La Cañada , Paterna, 

Valencia 46182 ES

I may stay a little longer than I had planned because the place is so nice. The lower garden has three gnomes guarding the ground, we found orange trees, lemon trees, lots of airplane plants growing in the ground along with jade, just sprouted out of the ground.  I left my own jade plant outside in Fountain Hill and it got all mushy and soft and sort of died with the first freeze.  It´s quite amazing the difference between Valencia and Pennsylvania. We are not rubbing it in.  We are just constantly surprised at what grows here.

Moving in was a trek on its own.  We rented a little panel truck from PepeCar in Valencia. Very cute, only one problemo - no maps.  The woman looked at me like I had three heads. "What? You want a map plus the vehicle?"  But the force was with us, so we managed to get to the bank near the university to  take money out for the rent and deposit only to discover that on Friday, the bank did not have 2,000 euros.  A not so helpful Spanish man at the bank, who was alone and was not so interested in foreigners gave us really poor directions to another bank nearby that would have the money.  So we tripped all over ourselves trying to find the bank, snaking back and forth. Luckily the bank guy had given us the name of a grocery store, Consum, that we would need to pass. That saved our rear ends.  Before we found the bank, I crossed another street, Calle de Santa Theresa.  I saw that as an omen that we were on the right path.  This time it worked.  

So,  we took the little panel truck, using made-up directions to La Cañada, getting pretty fricking lost.  The google map directions had evaporated so we had to ask for divine help.  Luckily we got off the auto route at just the right time. The rental car folks give you the car with an empty tank, not full, so we were desperate to find a gas station. I saw a gas station REPSOL we took a careening exit, got gas and realized according to David´s GPS unit that we were at the La Cañada exit.  Talk about blind leading the blind.  So we met the landlord, signed the papers, she was in a hurry and we only  half-heard what she said and understood less.  

We unpacked all our stuff --way too much. Went to the Mercadona--grocery store, and got all our provisions for the coming months.  Got in the Pepecar tiny van ( with it´s peeling plastic insignia on the side) to return it to the center of Valencia. It had gotten us into the 'burbs, but our luck changed significantly when we left the house 11 km from Valencia at 6:30 p.m. We were in a powerful force field of absolute confusion for almost 2 hours.  At 8 pm. when the Pepecar closed, we were out of luck, lost beyond repair and had to wait til the next day to return it at a significant penalty.  Their special Pepecar trick is that there is NO ADDRESS on your receipt.  So David´s GPS unit wasn´t working.  I called PepeCar´s number, Surprise, all options are in rapid fire Spanish.  All the clerk would say is "we close at 8:00 p.m."  David´s GPS unit, does not work well in cities with buildings all around.  It also could not count the exit numbers on rotaries.  Almost all turns are with rotaries here, so it would print "take the 2nd exit at the roundabout" but would ignore that the first one was an entrance ramp.  So all calculations on turns were hysterical.  By this time David, our conductor is raving in good English cursewords asking where we were.  I couldn´t read the map I had of Valencia that fast, so it was a royal disaster!  Finally,  I recognized a Chinese restaurant that we had passed  from the AIRPORT when we came into Valencia.  Yes, we were that lost.  So we retraced our steps back to the old town part of Valencia and took  San Vicente de Martir  out to the highway and found our way back to  the house we had left only 2 hours  before. Loved the name of the street.  We were feeling like martyrs.  It only took us 20 minutes to get back home on more familiar terrain.  Lesson:  don´t try to return a rental car in a strange city after dark. 

The next morning we took the car back and David vowed never to drive again in Spain.  Valencia is a very difficult city to negotiate.  There are jokes about other mathematicians who have chosen to drive here, circling the auto route many, many times before they figured out how to get off. Add one more mathematician and a totally clueless companion to the list.

We are happy in the  house and had our first Sunday meal on the terrace, it was a bit cold, but possible.  There are a lot of guard dogs in the neighborhood and we laughed our asses off walking to the metro yesterday to find a really ostentatious house called ""La Alhambra" that had it´s own video surveillance cameras, tennis court etc.  The Alhambra in Granada, of course, is the biggest Moorish castle in the world - we think.  So we are totally outclassed living among the rich and famous.  Or, they think they are.  

Today the snafus continued.  I made reservations for David and Elisabeth to Turkey, only I didn´t notice that an announcement on the reservation said the flight you want is not available, try this one.  I booked it, it cannot be changed. So we have to see if Elisabeth´s flight to Spain can be changed for a small fee of $200.  Dumb mistakes here are very costly.  Not all that different for foreigners in the US, only we never so completely empathized  before.  

Hopefully, we will post another entry when we have the Internet at the house.  Another adventure.  I hope it´s in a week, but we were told it could take months to get  hooked up because Telefonica, the state-run phone company which  is the only provider for the house we are living in, is a post Franco bureaucracy in spades.  We were told yesterday that it´s against the rules to speak anything but Spanish on the phone.  So if someone truly speaks English- they are not allowed to do so for fear of punishment.  Or that´s the story an Israeli artist told us.  Maybe that´s just her story.

So we struggle, we love being here, we struggle, we love being here.  Clearly a sense here of being the OTHER.  More photos to come, but they will come more slowly 'til we get the internet at the house unless I can save them to my little key chain drive and upload them from David´s office computer.

I´m typing this in David´s office shared with a phenomenal graduate student and a very silent Japanese researcher who is here for 2 weeks.  It´s quite hard to imagine three silent mathematicians sitting, doing their work separately. Well, not so silent, we are all coughing!  So think silence...cough...silence...cough.  David and our Japanese friend are really dueling to find solutions to mathematical problems in a hurry.  Luckily David has a longer time frame. We don´t know the Japanese guy´s name he does not talk to us.  Not social at all.  So I am a little mouse in this room of silent coughing mathematicians and it´s so hard for me to be quiet.

Adios, Paula