casacollins

Semana Santa is Easter Week in Spain. The day after we returned from Greece we went to the Alhambra to see one church's procession. The way it works is that churches from all over Granada, Seville, Malaga and some other Andalusian cities have these processions during Semana Santa. Sometimes there are several in one day. Churches have anywhere from dozens to hundreds of parishoners participating. The main event is preceded by various church members dressed in traditional costumes parading solemnly through the streets. This particular procession was emerging from the gates of the Alhambra which was particularly poignant because the Mulslims/Moors had occupied (and built) the Alhambra for hundreds of years till Queen Isabella (La Catolica) kicked them out. Here we saw all these Catholics parading out of the Arab archway leading to what had been the last stronghold of the Muslims.

Anyway, we stood in the hot afternoon sun with a thousand other people waiting and waiting for the procession to start. Of course they were about an hour off schedule, but not one person left. Everyone knew their patience would be rewarded. Finally, the procession began. So many different outfits: the women with their black veils and big hair combs, the men in their pointy hats (definitely NOT KKK, but uncomfortably similar dress whose roots are in the Spanish Inquisition), children in robes carrying enormous candles, more men in funny Shakespearean-looking hats, a few guys in suits (much more boring than the guys in tights) and finally what we had been waiting for...the "float" of Mary and Jesus. All the churches have these enormous, gilded, carved wood figures seated on thrones adorned with flowers and gold decorations. Interestingly enough, the Semana Santa procession is so important for a lot of people here that they actually PAY money to be the ones to carry the 2 ton float!


The second photo, too is of the Semana Santa procession. The hundreds of people from this particular church began in the Alhambra Palace and walked about mile down to Plaza Nueva where thousands more onlookers waited eagerly to see the Virgin and her son and the wonderful marching band that followed the float celebrating the whole resurrection and all that it means. They're not really into the Easter Bunny here. I guess you can't compete with the big dogs in a Catholic country like Spain. In fact, all week the Spanish folks in Andalucia spend their evenings watching these processionals and "celebrating" their Catholicism. For some it's the only time they do it, for others it's their way of life. Muy interesante.



This is Wynne (far right) and some of her classmates in their traditional flamenco outfits for the El Dia de la Cruz celebration at school. The jean jacket is NOT traditional but is an expression of Wynne's own personal flare for fashion (note the pink glitter shoes and scarf tied stylishly around her waist). Celebrated on May 3, this day is when big crosses are erected in many plazas throughout the city and decorated with flowers. Then people from the neighborhood come out in their outfits (or whatever they have on) and dance and celebrate The Day of the Cross. After asking several people and looking in some books to find out what its significance is, I hate to say it, but I don't know that there is anything specific or historic or symbolic these folks are celebrating. Honestly, the Andalusians are famous for their ability to party. I think that's what they are really celebrating!

Our family trying to look as Spanish as it gets. Our wonderful neighbor, Genoveva, used to be in a flamenco dance troupe with her husband, hence the dresses for me and Lydia and hats for Mark and Reed. She made both of the dresses Lydia and I are wearing for her daughter and herself! Wynne is sporting a flamenco dress of her own, complete with facepaint. Lydia's dress probably weighs close to 5 pounds and is made of lace and ribbons. We had a great time dressing up, but somehow could not bring our non-native selves to wear these outfits beyond our back yard, with the exception of Wynne who would wear hers everywhere if only it didn't have to get washed!

Here is a picture of the plaza near our house with the decorated cross in the background and our friends (Alina, Tony and Sandra) and kids dancing in the foreground. The rain was a slight deterrant, but nevertheless did not keep us from celebrating El Dia de la Cruz. Reed is not exactly "dancing", but participating as a clapper. In flamenco dance there are often people whose job it is to clap along with the music. There are others who sing and others who play guitar or drums while the dancers do their thing. While Reed can really "cut up the rug", he does enjoy the clapping bit and is really good at it, too!

As the fiesta evolved the lights went on and the celebration grew. I love this photo for the action and ambiance of the night time fiesta. A temporary "bar" usually goes up in the plaza along with the cross serving sandwiches, sodas and beer. Along with the drinks one gets a tapas of these bean things and the fat of the jamon (of course). I was enjoying my beans when Sandra said, "Did you eat the whole thing? You're not supposed to eat that furry skin part. Just the insides, Mary." Oops. I was reminded of my Yiayia after arriving from Greece (in a train en route from NY to Ohio), who ate the entire banana in her box lunch--peel and all. While I don't think it's genetic to be inclined to eat peels, I can certainly empathize when a foreigner can't quite figure out how you're supposed to eat pineapples and watermelon!

Okay, first you've got to know that we probably have over 300 photos of our trip to Greece. You're welcome for not putting them all on the blog. I've tried to make some effort to pick out some that are most representative of the beautiful country, the unique culture and our experience there. We went for 10 days in the beginning of April (I know, it's taken me long enough to post this!). One of our goals this year was to go to Greece, the land of my ancestors and mythology and a country my dad never had a chance to visit. Another was to eat as many olives as possible.



Photo 1: Our kids in front of the Parthenon on the Acropolis in Athens. The Parthenon was immense and awe-inspiring, but under heavy restoration as acid rain and previous battles with other enemies have deteriorated so much of its original splendor. Something we didn't expect: there are "lifeguards" posted all over the Acropolis, fully armed with walkie talkies and whistles. If you step off the paths and onto the forbidden zones they whistle at you and tell you to move back to the proper zone for tourists. I was not whistled at, mind you. Curiously I was a little disappointed--much like when the liquor store cashier back home neglects to ask me for my i.d. Besides the Acropolis we saw lots of museums (folklore, children's art, Greek Art, archeology, you name it). The city has wonderful gardens, beautiful neo-classical architecture, ancient ruins and terrific shopping in chic boutiques, flea markets and stylish stores. Highlights were definitely the Acropolis and the Monastraki (see below). One special place we went was to the Lalounis Jewelry Museum and had lunch in their patio! Athens was a fun place for everyone, but 3 days was plenty as we were ready to get to the mountains and beaches in search of our relatives!

Photo 2: Another Athens shot--A Greek Orthodox priest shopping for icons in the super-duper tourist-trappy souvenir-crappy maze called the Monastraki ( I think that word must come from the Greek word for monastery). The priests were everywhere. They were driving cars, eating in restaurants, buying shtuff, whatever. Somehow we thought with their long robes and even longer beards and funny hats that they should be in some isolated, solemn tower high up in the mountains trying to save our souls, but instead they were in the streets doing exactly what the rest of the world does in Greece.


Photo 3: It ceases to amaze me how these guys in their tiny kiosks can have such a small amount of space and jam everything in the world into it and (a) not get their stuff stolen out from under their noses and (b) not die of chlostrophobia. Traveler tip: if you need anything from a cell phone card to a cigar to a chocolate croissant to worry beads, these kiosk guys have it for you. If you don't see it, just ask.





Photo 4: The changing of the guard at the Parliament Building and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Cool uniforms. Even cooler purpose. The crowd was passionate and respectful. It was a very moving experience to see these young soldiers paying respect to the fallen soldiers who fought in the wars. I'm sure there were folks in the crowd who had family members who fought in WWII or the Civil War in the 1940s that left hundreds of thousands homeless and the nation in tatters. Pretty intense.






Photo 5: We went on a one day cruise of the islands of Porous, Hydra and Aegina. On Hydra we felt like a little snack, but opted to wait for lunch on the boat rather than the local fare of octopus fresh from the clothesline!






Photo 6: Here are the nice men and boats that presumably catch the octopus.










Photo 7: On Hydra there are no cars. Locals ride bikes and donkeys. Seeing Reed, Wynne and Mark wasn't quite the same as the stories of Yiayia and her donkey, but gave us a nice little tour of the village with its narrow cobblestone streets, whitewashed buildings, wildflowers and blue accents everywhere.






Photo 8: So, you know, the big deal about going to Greece was to go to the village of my grandmother. Well, here it is! How cool is that? She used to come down from her mountain village (Agios Vasilios) with her father and the herd (goats) for the summer. It was really neat to imagine Yiayia and great grand-papouli walking through the fields and streets where I was with my family! As I stood there taking it all in I only wished my dad could've seen it! Monemvasia is a huge rock (like Gibrlatar, but no border patrol here) across a causeway from the mainland in the Peloponese region. On the other side of the dramatic rock is the actual village which was created in the 6th century when barbarian incursions forced locals to the rock. Eventually in the 13th century, Monemvasia the commercial center for Byzantine Morea. Its current population is in the hundreds. Though there are 40 churches in the village! I asked one woman what that was all about. She said, "One church for every family."





Photo 9: Here is a shot of the "streets" of Monemvasia. Much like Spain, there are no street signs as we, Americans, know them. But no problem because if you get lost it will take you a maximum of 7 minutes to walk to the other end of the villlage and cover every nook and cranny in between. There are a bunch of hotels, tavernas, and shops in addition to the churches. In fact, people ACTUALLY live there, too! Just like in the old days! Apparently there was a period when only the folks who couldn't afford to live elsewhere found themselves in Monemvasia. Nowadays property owners have restored and rehabilitated much of the village with integrity and pride for the original style, materials and architecture of the old village. It is gorgeous and tranquil.

Photo 10: Here is a picture or the village as seen from up on the rock. Notice how you can't see any "streets" just rooftops and churches.



Photo 11: Here are the Thermoyiannis cousins. Stavros, in the checked shirt, got a phone call the day before from this restaurateur we befriended in the village. I told her about Yiayia and my desire to meet some of her cousins (my cousins). She said, "I know them. Let me call one and tell them you're here." Sure enough, 30 minutes later, Stavros showed up at the restaurant! We were quite a sight because he didn't speak a lick of English and all I can say in Greek are phrases related to the greetings you use during holidays, weddings and funerals. Anyway, with the help of our waiter, we chatted and arranged to get together the next day with more family and hopefully someone who spoke English and Greek! So, here's who showed up. For all you Greeks reading out there, here are the names: Nikos(Yiayia's 1st cousin), Margarita, Thermistacles, Katina, Anastasia, Elias, Me(Mary), Elena, Stavros(Yiayia's 1st cousin), and Mark. They said they were sorry that everyone couldn't come, but one of Stavros' brothers had died the week before and his widow and some others were still in mourning. What a reunion this was, though. Only the 16 year old, Thermistacles, could speak a little English. Nevermind that, we had a great time. I showed them a copy of the family newsletter, The Honeybee, and they showed me photo albums. I was in heaven. They tried to sort out who I was to them and if it was my Yiayia or my Papouli who lived in Monemvasia, Agios Vasilios and Paliohori. Anyway, I met my grandparents cousins and their children and their children. We were all cousins, hanging out, getting to know each other. They could not have been nicer. Needless to say we can't wait to go back!





Photo 12: This is on our way from Monemvasia north to Nafplio. We drove through the mountains by the villages of Paliohori and Agios Vasilios--the villages where Papoouli and Yiayia were from (respectively). Originally we wanted to go to the villages, but given the long, winding mountain roads and the pale faces in our back seat we thought it best to take a moment to view them from afar rather than make the trek. If you click on the photo you can see one village (Paliohori) to the left and the other to the right (Agios Vasilios). I cannot express to you the thrill it was for me to finally see where my grandparents were from. Growing up, I heard so many stories from Yiayia about her childhood, riding on donkeys, taking care of the goats, living among the wildflowers and the animals of Greece. To actually be there and see the places of so many of her stories was an experience of a lifetime.




Photo 13: This is the Bourtzi Island fortress. Like Spain, Greece is a mediterranean country abundant in war history, castles, defensive fortresses and military relics. It seems that the Greeks were always fighting off the Venetians, Turks or other aggressive brunettes. Nafplio is a great resort-town that was perfect for a visit in April before the Athenians descend upon it for their summer vacations. We found a worry-bead museum, great restaurants, beautiful, old, narrow streets and some great ceramics. It was the last few days of our vacation and between the fortress on the hill, the portside shops, and the museums, we finished our stay with a great time in Nafplio.




Photo 14: On our way to the Athens airport we took a side trip to Epidaurus where there is a well-preserved theater that seats 14,000! It's known for its harmony of design and perfection of acoustics. We sat in the highest seats that were over 2000 years old and could hear Wynne and Lydia in the middle of the stage talking to each other. Very cool.



Finally, this photo is titled, "Mark on sabbatical." Love it.

We have had a lot of visitors this spring! How come we don't get this many in Chicago? One of our neighbors here in Spain asked, "What is there in Chicago?" With a strong sense of pride for the home team we rattled off a zillion great things to see and do in our great city. Then we realized that when we've had visitors here in Andalucia we have never run out of place to go and things to see. Maybe it's the whole "new and different is better" phenomenon. I don't think so. Andalucia is a region that is chock full o' so many different places that offer so much history and insight into the people here.

Our March guests were Mark's brother, Steve,his wife, Patti, and kids, Faith, Claire and Sarah. After a few days in Granada we headed to Sevilla, Spain's "most romantic city". Okay, 6 kids and 2 couples in a house in the middle of a busy city doesn't exactly evoke romance, but it sure was wonderful. The city is filled with parks and beautiful, old architecture. Buildings representing all of the countries of the spanish speaking world are represented here. We did manage to squeeze in a horse-drawn carriage ride with me and 4 of the kiddies! And who doesn't love traveling around with their cousins? We don't need romance, we need adventure! This first photo is outside the entrance to the Alcazar (Castle/Fortress). Somehow, my sister Priscilla and I missed this last year during our visit. Unbelievable! Built in the 900s a.d. and has been occupied by both Muslims and Catholics over the past 11 centuries. It rivals the Alhambra in its beautiful decoration and elaborate architecture. Of course, we loved it and spent one whole afternoon wandering around the various palaces and gardens while playing hide and seek and looking for various details highlighted in our audio tour. What fascinated Wynne the most, however, was the dance (Pretty Girl) cousin Sarah taught her in the Palacio de Don Pedro.






Another thrill of having kids visit is some serious playtime. The Collins cousins played cards non-stop while they were together. They played in cafes (Photo #2). They played at restaurants. They played in palaces. They even played on our car's hood! We've been learning a lot this year and the value of a good card game has taught us how to keep our kids happy doing their own thing while we contemplate various ceramic glazes and which restaurant we should take over for dinner! We especially love the card game Kent. Any other fans out there?


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Photo #3 is probably one the best photos Mark and I have taken this year. My hair isn't gray, our eyes are all open, I don't look fat (I think) and Mark has a beard! We have all had a chance to try new things since we've been in Spain. Mark never had a beard and says he always wanted to try one. Once we got our Spanish i.d. cards and didn't have to look "clean cut" or non-terrorist like at the border, he decided to give it a whirl and see what he could cultivate on his chin. He had the beard for about a month, which was fun, but enough in this southern heat. (He also thought it made him look a little older than his youthful 42). So it's gone now, but so glad he had a chance to try something he's wanted to do for a long time.






This photo is the two Collins families in a wedding hall in the Alcazar in Sevilla. Not too shabby for a wedding hall, eh? It was actually used in 1995 for the wedding of the daughter of King Juan Carlos I after a ceremony at the Sevilla Cathedral. The Alcazar is still a royal palace and has certain room used by the royal family on their visits to Sevilla. The sunken gardens, elaborate tapestries, walls of paintings, and incredible tilework are a tribute to restoration of historic buildings. This place is in such great shape and is totally inspiring. When we go home I'm going to redo all our tile, plant an amazing garden, learn how to weave and build a hall just for Mark's paintings. In due time, right? Okay, maybe on a smaller scale.




This last photo shows some of the detail of the tilework. They left no corner undecorated. We must have 200 digital photos of details from inside the Alhambra and the Alcazar. The photos of course don't do them justice, but once you're surrounded by all these tiles, plasterwork and carvings you can't help but be in awe. I'm thinking they didn't have trade unions back then. Let's just hope the worker-guys were happy to have jobs.

After Sevilla we went on to Jerez where we toured a sherry bodega. Jerez is famous for it's wonderful sherries and it's Andalusian horses. Didn't see any horses this time. Some things will just have to wait for another trip.

All in all, this trip to Sevilla was fascinating. So relieved to "talk" (in Spanish) our way out of a silly, little ticket (our first) on the highway, we arrived in the 3rd biggest city in Spain to spend 3 fun days in a house in the center of the old Jewish quarter. We rented the house rather than hotel rooms since there were 10 of us and we could easily hang out together in one big space--and it was half the cost of a hotel! (Google: self-catering apartments) We saw so much and spent some serious quality time with our family. Yay! A great time was had by all!

I've fallen behind in my blogging. This one is from February when our friends, Brian and Michelle Gratch hauled their 4 kids across the pond for a "European vacation". You'll see in the photos that we're all in our winter jackets. Winter is definitely cold in Granada, but never THAT cold and really only lasts a few months. We had frost a few times and it snowed only once. Not too shabby.

This blog is dedicated to a 10 year-old friend who came all the way to Spain to have his appendix taken out. He taught us all about strength and stamina. He showed bravery and courage. He was a real trooper whose thresholds were put to the test and never failed. Simon Gratch showed up in Granada with his parents and three siblings in tow only to spend 4 days in bed in our house and then a few more days in the beautiful Spanish countryside feeling so sick before he was diagnosed as needing an appendectomy in Sevilla! Thanks to a good health care system and some wonderful people, Simon's surgery went well and they were able to bring him back home safely. Way to go, Simon! This is Simon and his dad, Brian.














The 2nd photo is our friend, Tony, trying to hunt down a restaurant in the Albaycin (old Moorish/Arab neighborhood) that could seat 12 people for lunch (Spanish dinner). Many of the restrants here have nice patios and big tables to seat large parties. On weekends, tons of people often flood the restaurants in parties of 10 or more. Eating out here can be really inexpensive and families seem to always eat their mid-day dinner together. Lots of restaurants look like they're set up for a wedding because of all the big tables set up in anticipation of the families coming to eat. Pretty cool how the family is such a significant part of the culture here.













The third photo (courtesy of Wynne!) is some gypsy musicians playing flamenco music at this "mirador" overlooking the Alhambra Palace and Fortress. The songs are often emotional and sad stories about love and loss. Not that I understand a word that they're saying, but that's what I've been told! The gypsies seem to be more of an ethnic group rather than lifestyle where they travel around in wagons, etc. There is a significant "gitano" (gypsy) population in Granada. Many of them are known for their talent with flamenco music and dancing. Granadinos are very, very proud of their culture--especially the flamenco. This lookout is a favorite, especially for tourists and local types selling handmade jewelry. It's like Christmas for Wynne who adores all things shiny and appreciates a good tune when she hears one!














Photo #4 is a regular stop, along with the mirador, on our tour of the Albaycin. This is Casa de Pasteles, a cafe/bakery, that serves up a mean "cafe con leche" (espresso with warm milk) for a dollar that beats the pants off any Starbucks creation. I'm not sure if it's the hordes of people you have to penetrate to get to the counter or the cigarette smoke that makes this place so charming. I suspect it's the pastry case and the company we keep. Here you can see our party of 12 took up nearly the whole counter. The littlest Gratches and Wynne had to jockey for their stools while the big kids (Alina Lozano White, Helen Gratch, Lydia and Reed were good sports and inhaled their treats wherever they could find room. No matter how chaotic the place is, one is always rewarded with something yummy (made with olive oil?) and delicious memories.













The last photo during the Gratches visit is all the kiddy-os outside the monastery at a nearby town, Moclin. We like this one especially for Helen's expressive pose and the fact that Simon was with us. Monasteries have become a dime a dozen for us here. Along with fortresses, castle ruins and cathedrals they have dominated our destinations ten times more than any place like shopping malls, Chuckie Cheese or a Six Flags Amusement park. Somehow, even though we have seen dozens of these types of places they are still fascinating and fun for the kids. They love climbing up the towers and running around the broken rooms imagining what it would be like to live in a castle or fight in a war. Nevermind the whole "hardships of life back then". Thankfully their imaginations and Spain's respect for these historic relics give us all a thrill!

We have been here many months now and remain clueless about a lot of political issues. However, we can still appreciate good grafitti when we see it. Not sure who Peito is, but I think he's dead. May he rest in Peace. Lots of grafitti here. Some political, some social, some simply a way for idle teens to "express themselves".






The 2nd photo is a glimpse into Spain's future. Land is relatively inexpensive here and developers are snatching up farms as fast as they can. In the meantime, shepherds are still roaming. Goats, sheep, and horses can still be seen grazing (albeit right next to the highway). The Spanish would do well to resist the temptation of fast cash and preserve their beautiful countryside with some serious zoning and a zoning board that enforces codes! This photo was taken on our way to school where 10,000 new homes and 2 big golf courses are said to be going up in the next 5 years.







The 3rd picture is a picture of how two "developers" built one on top of the other. At the Alhambra Palace complex there is evidence of the different architectural styles of the Moors and the Catholics. Look at the building in the background. That was built by the Moors. When the Catholics took over Al Andalus (Andalucia) and Spain in 1492 they became the new owners of the exquisite Moorish architectural gem, the Alhambra. Soon enough King Charles V built his own palace right in the middle of every building on the compound--fortunately his palace is aesthetically pleasing. When the Catholics took over the mosques they were not as thoughtful. In Cordoba, the Catholics occupied the city and therefore the biggest mosque in Europe. They built a cathedral smack in the middle of the mosque (see previous blog about Cordoba for photo). When the ruler of that region saw what the enthusiastic architects had done to the former mosque he declared it a travesty, however, the construction was done and he chose to leave it rather than rebuild. If only they had some sort of zoning codes back then, right? Ha!







This 4th photo is our wonderful neighbors, The Swales (Bill, Pam, Carter and Billy), who came to visit in the end of February. They were not prisoners at the Alcazaba (Fortress) of the Alhambra, as you can see by their smiling faces. Billy and Reed were used to seeing each other every day for the past 9 years and this year has reminded us all to cherish that good fortune of proximity. The kids(and parents!) all fell back in with each other immediately and it was as if we had never been away. That sure feels good.








Our 5th photo is to document amazing serendipity. This is us in Granada with our neighbors, Pam and Bill, and another family, the Minas, who moved from Grant Street eight or nine years ago. The Minas lived in South Africa and Prague before moving to Madrid last summer. They learned from another Evanston familia that we were in Granada. They were doing a little tour of Granada and sent us an email to see if we could get together. So here we are all these Grant St. neighbors in Granada so many thousands of miles away from the place that originally introduced us. Pretty cool. Great to see everyone. Hopefully we'll get a chance to see the Minas again before we head home. We're looking forward to being back on Grant Street too.












Before the Swales headed home we all spent a stormy and fun day in Marbella. It is a unique town that caters so much to tourists from England and other European countries that almost all the staff in the hotels, restaurants and shops speak English. Really uncommon in Andalucia. It's on the coast and has some great hotels and beaches. Here is a shot of our kids getting ready for a unique beach experience. Fortunately, the stormy weather prevented everyone else from partaking, but the kids had fun anyway! I like that there are certain words in English that just don't translate in to Spanish so you have to just use the English word.

I started this blog 5 weeks ago and have been meaning to finish it. Finally, it's done. Hope you enjoy it.This first photo is of the famous Costa del Sol. We drove through there on our way back from being shut out of Gibraltar because of our visas. We had a fun weekend planned on the Rock, but alas it wasn't meant to be so we made the best of it by driving along the coast, stopping at an ice cream kiosk and a teleferico (gondola).

In the meantime, the saga of the visas continues...Here's the abbreviated version of the unfolding (present tense) drama: We were told it would take 6 weeks to get our visas approved. That is IF they are approved. After 6 MONTHS of hand-wringing and considering various scenarios of different levels of illegal alien-ness and possible legal consequences we were told that they had been approved. I (Mary) headed to Chicago to pick them up. The guy, Angel (ironic), behind the 3" thick security window at the consulate gives me a hard time trying to tell me (in a very insensitive way considering his name and what we've been through to this point to get the darn visas) that I canNOT pick Mark's visa up and that he has to come himself. (Minor setback, don't get discouraged.) I'm thinking, "We've only banked our whole year on Mark's project, job, etc. Mark is all the way in Spain, Angel. He CAN't pick his up. It costs a ton to fly here and even more to park near Michigan Avenue. What the heck? I have emailed with the Consulate General (Pepe) so please let me have his VISA!" Angel is thinking, " Momentito, Maria. I have the power now, chica. Let's see your stamina. Can you say that in Spanish?" I'm thinking, "Don't mess with me, hombre. My dermatologist is friends with THE consulate general. He and I can talk about moles (on your skin), zits, and fungus together. Besides he told me the name of a gal working on our file. You want to play hardball, okay, how about some name dropping?... Whew, I'm in." I meet the Consulate General and chat a bit. Really nice guy. Former embassador for Spain to Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates and somewhere else. Very diplomatic to say the least. He apologized for the ridiculously lengthy process. I chose NOT to complain at this time, but to graciously accept the situation now that I actually had all 5 passports newly adorned with our official permission slips to stay in Spain for the year. Then I'm gone. Thank God. I say "Hasta luego and nice to meet you (in Spanish)" to Angel on may way out of his power station for the last time. Finally!!! I carry the precious documents ever so carefully back to Granada.

What a relief. We can finally travel freely within the EU and back to the US if necessary! Yay! We can update our legal papers for our car, the school, etc. We can stay in Spain!!! We don't have to worry any more.

Not so fast.

Upon trying to get into Gibraltar (UK territory) we met Angel's double--this time a border policeman with a little more charm, but the same, "Wait a minute" m.o. We were told by this agent that if we left we wouldn't be allowed back into Spain. "WHAT," I'm thinking, "you can't be serious. The kids want to see the monkeys in Gibraltar. We were planning an afternoon of people watching and shopping in English. Besides all that, my dermatologist...Not worth the risk. This guy isn't gonna be any help. This is the much politicized border of Spain and Gibraltar. A pain in the neck for travelers, bigger pain for border patrol. Better to go--as frustrated and righteous as we are feeling at this moment--back to the drawing board. Back to emailing the Consulate General. Back to the police station in Granada. Back to the BACK of the "Immigrantes" line that takes 2 hours to do anything. So after more emails with our favorite bureaucrat (really-he was fabulous), several MORE hours in line at the dreary police station, three trips to the photo copy shop, and only one mention of the Consulate General, we finally got our Foreigners I.D. numbers! The kids even got fingerprinted. We were so excited(again), relieved(again) and exhausted(again) with the whole thing, but we were FINALLY (again) done with the process. Then, the lady in window number 7 said they will be ready for us in 3 MONTHS!!!! What???????? Yeah, we'll be sure to pick them up on our way to the airport in June.

Anyway, she was wrong (go figure). They called the next day and said they'd be ready at the end of March. So we finally have them (temporary resident id cards that are what are given to you once you show the police your visa and 8 kgs. of paperwork) and are thrilled. We'll get the permanent ones soon, so they say.




This is us up on an oceanside mountain where we rode a teleferico up and up for a great look at the coast. Very touristy and very fun. Not like Gibrlatar, I bet, but exciting just the same. We passed a lot of foreigners on the mountain trail to the top. The guy who took this picture was from Ireland.

The guy who took the next photo is from Evanston, conspicuously absent from the family photo. We were proud to have our visas even if nobody else valued them. If only we had realized that the resident cards were the ones to go for. That's the rock of Gibraltar behind us. I guess everybody wants to own it. The Brits want it, the Spaniards want it. The Gibraltarians are a unique bunch (so we've heard) that speak English and are basically English, but live in southern Spain on their rock. They don't want to become part of Spain and I think that makes the border patrol a little grouchy.

(Oops. I can't undo the font. Bear with me.) The eagle photo was coincidentally taken on our way back from Gibraltar at this aviary on the top of the teleferico ride. It is our tribute to America and the freedom we have being Americans--in America. We have definitely had some experience being foreigners with limited language and understanding of how things work. Can't imagine the frustration immigrants have in the U.S. trying to navigate Cook County or any other governmental body there. At least here they don't give you 40 pounds of papers filled with legalease and jibberish in order to get permission to do anything. Instead they require you to provide them with teh 40 pounds of documentation.This last picture is of Gibraltar. With some imagination you can see Africa (Morroco)--I think, off to the left. Now that I look at it, that may be Spain still. Anyway, you could see it on a clear day from the rock, we've been told. Hundreds of people illegally cross that strait every year from Africa seeking a better life in Spain. Notice I didn't say Gibraltar. No way they're getting in there. Not before us.

January and February here in southern Spain remind us more of Chicago than you might think. We've had snow, rain, frost, wind, and cold. The big difference is that the bitter cold only lasts a few days and "bitter" is really about 35 degrees ABOVE zero. No snow to shovel. It's only stuck to the mountaintops, many of which we can see from our neighborhood! Lydia (Photo #1) has gone skiing three times with Mark. It is her new "favorite sport". Just in time to get some inspiration from the Olympics! Reed joined them once and Wynne and I will follow suit in March probably. The Sierra Nevadas here are beautiful and easy to get to. Apparently 30,000 other people feel the same way. Mark says the lines are enormously long, so leaving at 7:30 am to get up there early is commonplace. You have to understand that many (young, social types) Spaniards are making their ways back home from a night out at around 5 am, so a 7:30 wake up call is quite a feat. "It's so worth it," say Lydia and Mark who are both quite young and social as you recall.

Other ways folks pass their time in Andalucia is to go and visit places. Cathedrals are a popular draw as most of the country has some Catholic heritage somewhere even no one goes to church (it's the whole Franco-bossing-everyone-around-for-so-long-that-now-we-don't-want-to-do-anything thing). History and how the Mulslims were driven out by the Catholics, etc. is also a big thing here as you can imagine, what with all the ruins, stories of wars and rulers, streets named for famous warriors or saints. We've definitely gotten a fair amount of mileage out of cathedrals and battles here. Strange, but true and usually more exciting stories than one gets on Disney Channel (not always, but usually). Reed especially loves the forts and castles, but all of us get into walking through the ruins, checking out the views (they're always on hilltops or mountaintops), and having lunch in a nearby cafe--okay, and pretending we're in a battle!

In order to put things in perspective for me, when I turned 40, Mark and I spent a day over in Cordoba to see their famous mosque/cathedral. The kids were in school so we took the day to drive over there and give the place a good look. This mosque used to be the biggest in Europe and thousands worshipped there. Then in the late 1400s those Catholics took over and made it into a cathedral. The old, huge mosque surrounds the much smaller cathedral. But the only size that counted for them was their coffers and their armies no doubt. Both houses of worship are ornate and unique in their own right. Very, very cool to see the juxtaposition of the arab style archways and the marble figures from the catholics all in the same place. Really comforting to feel like there are lots of people and things much older than me that have survived and are marveled at for their age, grace and style! If we can all only be so lucky. The second photo is the outside of the mosque which looks like a well decorated fortress. Makes sense given all the fighting they were up to back then. Most of the colorful paint has worn off over the centuries, but you can get an idea of how decorative their art and architecture was.

The last photo is the inside of the mosque with all the archways and the forest of columns. It is famous for the candy striped archways and the sheer number of columns, of course whose number I forget--it's something like several hundred. The whole mosque is as big as an entire city block. Incredible. The only things built that big these days are shopping malls and Wal-Marts(not here yet!). Not like the good old days when under-paid laborers worked horrifically long days for a pittance, but built these amazing monuments. Now we have unions and strip malls. Go figure.
The third photo is picture of me and Mark outside the Cordoba mosque in the gardens. There are orange trees everywhere, but be careful. They're not for eating. Just for decoration. This is a good example of what we are going to be like when we're retired. Travel around together. Mary takes a million pictures. Mary's wearing bright clothes. Mark poses willingly as he contemplates lunch. We don't change all that much do we? Fun to have a date that can last all day long and is a bit more than a movie and dinner.

The fourth photo is a great shot of Wynne in her element. Her friend, Louis, came over after school to play for a while before heading off to a birthday party at El Castillo Magico (the Magic Castle)! They're encouraged to dress up, apparently, for these fiestas, so who are we to interfere. I was relieved that she didn't want to go as a Spice Girl. Instead Wynne sported her very own Chinese dress that she bought with her own money! Louis ditched the school uniform later for a pirate's outfit! Apparently for Carnaval (Mardi Gras) folks over in Valencia really go to town with their costumes. We're not doing anything here for Mardi Gras seeing as we've got that dress up thing going on enough already.


The next blog is about to come out so check back tomorrow to read about our visa fiasco and Gibraltar!

Photo 1: The Collins Gang in front of a pond in Madrid's equivalent of Central Park.


Photo 2: The port in Barcelona--a cool combination of architecture from the 15th to the 21st cenuries. We went on a ship where one of the "Three Kings" greeted kids and asked them what they wanted from the "Reyes Magos" which is who brings the gifts on Epiphany (the 12th day of Christmas) instead of Papa Noel on Dec. 25th. We went to a really cool Reyes Magos parade on Epiphany Eve in Barcelona. Dozens of floats each with their own King proceded down the streets with kids on them throwing lots of candy to the kids watching from the curb! Pretty magical!



Photo3: Susan, inspired by the Muslim history of Granada, overlooks her prospective kingdom of Moclin. I think she likes it, don't you? (The fez, that is!) She was having a great hair day, but the fez was very important to the locals who prefer the hat to any stylish doo!




Photo 4: Colin, Chris, Reed and Wynne outside the military museum in Barcelona where they saw rooms and rooms of military paraphenalia: flags, uniforms, weapons, technology, etc. They even had a gift shop! Colin and Chris especially liked their special issue, torpedo powered, close-range popsicles!





Photo 5: Wynne and Mark at the Prado. We actually had to carry her a lot in the museum not because she was tired, but because so many paintings depicted the crucifiction of Jesus and still lifes of fowl and game after they'd been killed--a tad upsetting for the five year old mind. So much for this trip to the Prado. I guess it's famous. I'll have to wait till next time to really see why.