casacollins

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!