Final Post

I arrived back in the United States last Saturday, June 26. The last two weeks were just a blur. I got a chance to visit a friend in Geneva, Switzerland so I flew to Geneva for five days. Switzerland is a gorgeous country. They speak French, but everything is written in three languages; French, German and Italian because different parts of Switzerland speak different languages. It was strange to again be put into a country where I could understand nothing. I know no French except for “Bonjour” and “Merci”. I explored on my own a lot and saw the world’s largest fountain and the flower clock in Geneva. The World Cup was a huge deal. Everyone had their country’s flags hanging out of their apartments and they wore their country’s jersey, I went to an outdoor plaza where they were projecting the game across a huge TV in front of a Rolex building. People had their country flags and were waving them and cheering on the players on the screen. Switzerland was so intercultural. I met people from Spain, the US, Greece and Norway. Many people rode bikes, motorcycles or mopeds around and a lot of people used public transportation like the trams and trains. After being in Portugal, the surrounding countryside was so different. The houses all had painted shutters and the Alps loomed in the background. There was a music festival in Geneva. There were tents set up all around the city featuring different groups and food stands with food from all around the world. I also visited the United Nations and took a tour, which was really interesting. I would love to live in Geneva, the city was clean, almost every culture is featured, and it’s in a perfect location. You can take a train and be in France in 3 hours. My friend was saying how if she wanted to go to Italy to get pasta, it was easy. That’s one thing I love about Europe, it is very easy to travel. Switzerland is not in the European Union, but traveling in Europe is a breeze compared to traveling to the US. I didn’t have to pass through customs when I arrived in Switzerland and it was only and 2 and a half hour flight from Portugal. There is a huge sense of world community in Switzerland, Portugal and in Europe. I think partly it’s attributed to the fact that in Europe the countries are so close together. Sometimes, I feel that in the US we feel like we are the center. When I went to Portugal, I was amazed by how much the students knew of every country. My host sisters know the capitals of over 50 countries. They know the flags of every nation, which was something I was never taught in the US. Another thing, when they go shopping they have to pay for the paper (not plastic) bags they use. People are a lot more conscious about what they buy and how much. There is no “bulk” and they buy what they need, which is a different mentality than in the U.S.

I arrived back in Portugal on Monday, June 20. I spent the time with my family at the beach. I had a good-bye dinner with my friends and two teachers and had my final pastries from Bijou, my favorite Pasteleria. One of my host sisters has been studying abroad in Oregon since September and she arrived home on Friday, June 25 so I got to meet her for a few hours. Everyone was asking, “How awkward was that?” but it wasn’t at all. It felt like we already knew each other. My host family was incredible, it was so hard to leave and say good-bye to my host sisters, who feel just like my real sisters. Luckily, they are traveling to the states in August to visit their relatives so my family in NY will get to meet them. Two of my host sisters are spending this coming school year in the US so I plan on seeing them a lot. They already have arranged to stay in my dorm room at college.

Friday, June 25 all the exchange students had to meet in Lisbon so we could all catch our flights on Saturday, June 26. We didn’t sleep the whole night and the five Americans (including me) who had been on the semester program were the first group to leave for the airport at 4:50 a.m. It was a bittersweet good-bye to all the other students. When the five of us split up in NYC to catch connecting flights or meet up with parents, it was so sad.

I was apprehensive about coming home. A few months ago I was excited, but as it approached I was just nervous. Home was the same, but what about me? I was completely different, my world perception altered. In January, it felt like going home would never happen, but it was already here. Seeing my friends and family was great, but still I wish that I could be in two places at once, Portugal and NY. It’s nice to be sleeping in my own bed and to be able to drive myself around.

I’ve learned so much since I’ve been here: about myself, the world, and other cultures. I would do my experience all over in a heartbeat. I really should have planned ahead and gone for a whole year, but then I wouldn’t have met my host family, my new friends and had the experience that I’ve had and I wouldn’t change that for anything. I would encourage any student to study abroad; it’s one of the best things you can do. When you have opportunities, seize them and make the most out of them. I am one of the few foreign exchange students who is going to college next year. Most kids are still in high school. Some other seniors have to go back and finish taking credits, but quite a few are taking a gap year and traveling more. This was very tempting to me, but I felt like now is the best time for me to be in NYC and start college. The college I’m attending has a good abroad and internship program so traveling will definitely be in my future. Thank you for reading my blog posts these past 6 months. I wish you all the best.

Finished with School

On Saturday, June 5 the girls’ grandmother arrived. She lives in the US and came to visit. She insisted on taking us shopping and it was lots of fun, she was so sweet. This summer, my host family is going to the US to visit their relatives so hopefully I will see them all in August. I went to the agriculture fair in Santarém with my host sister and her friends. We arrived around 11 p.m. and left after 4 a.m. Mostly we just talked with friends and listened to a concert. The following day, Sunday, Carolina and I went to a bullfight in Santarém. They had six cavaleiros, one for each bull. We had to leave before it finished to see my youngest host sister perform her Spanish dancing at the agriculture fair.

Tuesday, June 8 was my last day of high school. In a way, I already felt like I had finished. The other students didn’t seem as excited about summer vacation. At my school in NY, I was use to kids running down the halls screaming on the last day. My classmates still have to take their national exams and won’t know if they’ve passed high school until July so maybe that was part of it. Almost half my class didn’t even attend the last class we had on Tuesday. I was glad to be done because I can travel more now.

The next day, Wednesday, I took a bus to Evora to visit Ari, one of the other American exchange students. I fell asleep and when I woke up I saw a sign that said Evora with an arrow. The bus went that way and pulled into a bus stop so I assumed we were there. I should have been paying more attention and realized that we were early (buses are never early to arrive here in Portugal). I ended up getting off at Montemor, a city a little north of Evora. It was only 20 minutes from Evora so Ari’s host mom picked me up, which was really nice of her. It definitely could have been worse though. One exchange student said they once got on the wrong bus and went to the northern tip of Portugal instead of going south. Ari showed me around Evora. It’s a much smaller city than Santarém. She took me to her favorite Pasteleria and we tried beijinhos (translates to kisses). They were small round orange sweets that had thin hard sugar covering a creamy melt-in-your-mouth custard/cream filling. I saw the Roman Temple of Diana again; we walked and saw the shops, a theater, and a park where there were peacocks. If you’ve never heard a peacock make noise, they sound exactly like Kevin from the movie Up, which I thought was hilarious. Luckily, I made all the right connections to get home.

These past few days, I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to slow down time and hanging out with friends in Santarém. Yesterday, a group of us watched the Portugal vs. Côte d’Ivoire World Cup soccer game at a café. Portugal has the best player in the world, Christiano Ronaldo, but they aren’t a very strong team as a whole. There was a group of people with Portuguese shirts in the café all watching, jumping up when it looked like we had a chance to score, groaning when the team didn’t make a pass. We have to play Brazil to move on past the first group and Brazil is a powerful team.

Today, Wednesday, June 16 I’m going to Geneva, Switzerland to visit a friend until Sunday, June 20. It is going to be fun to see more of Europe. When I come back I only have 6 more days before I leave, which is so sad!

Coimbra, Lisbon, Cascais

Last weekend I had my “goodbye” final AFS camp before departure. There are about 70 other AFS foreign exchange students here in Portugal. They divided us up and half of us went to Coimbra and half went to Braga. I traveled to the camp in Coimbra with 34 other students. Coimbra is nicknamed the “college” town because of all the universities in the city. Portugal is a very relaxed country and the people just flow with changes. Nothing is usually planned. If you have plans, they will probably change ten times before you actually pick what to do. They like spontaneity and aren’t upset if things don’t go according to plan. The train I was supposed to take to the camp at 4 p.m. was full so I had to go on one two hours later. I thought I was going to be late, but I was one of the first ones to arrive. When people in Portugal have meetings or plans at 8 a.m. that means 8:30. If you do arrive on time, you’re just embarrassed to be the only one there.

There were students from over 10 different countries at my camp including: New Zealand, Thailand, China, Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Venezuela, Costa Rica, Argentina, Germany, Austria, Mexico, and the US of course. Ari and I and three kids from Argentina were the only ones from the semester program at the Coimbra camp. The rest of the kids had been here since September. I met another girl, Rebecca, from Washington, D.C. There are more Americans who have been here the full year, but they were at the Braga camp so I will meet them on the plane ride home. Rebecca said two American students went home around December; it just wasn’t for them. Another student, I learned went home 3 days after arriving in Portugal, they never even met their host family or gave it a chance. All the students knew each other because they had previous camps and programs together. Some lived in the same town as each other. It was really cool to meet so many kids from so many different countries. At the camp we did different activities and talked about going home. The camp was conducted all in Portuguese. Most of the year long kids could understand everything. I had to have them repeat a lot and say it slower so I could understand. I can understand more easily now, just my pronunciation is awful. Some of the yearlong kids knew as much as I did though, so that made me feel better. I think you really need at least a year to learn and develop the basic skills for a new language. Everyone missed home, but very few of us were ready to leave. Most people thought that the middle months were the hardest, but now Portugal is like their second home. Going home will be nice, but home will always be there. You never know when you will see your friends in Portugal and when you will see your new friends from New Zealand, Germany and Norway. I’m so excited to have bagels and tacos again, but who knows when I’ll have pampilhos and a dish with bacalhau. It’s not just the food, but also the people, the culture, the cities. I can’t express how strange it is to think that I will be in NY in 4 weeks. It never felt like I was really leaving for Portugal until I arrived, so I don’t think it will hit me until I’m on the plane or when I see my house. Enough of the rapidly approaching departure blues…

This week I went to school Monday, but on Tuesday and Wednesday I went to Lisbon with my host sister. She showed me all around the city on Tuesday. Lisbon is such a beautiful, relaxed city. It was about 95 degrees on Tuesday, just typical Portuguese summer weather. I hadn’t planned on staying over, but in Portugal I’ve learned to be flexible with “plans”. So on Wednesday we went to H&M to get swimsuits then headed off to the beach. We met up with my sister’s friend who showed us around Cascais. Cascais is just south of Lisbon. It is a gorgeous city and beautifully kept up with flowers adoring the patterned streets and brightly painted buildings. The beach we went to was little but it was not crowded. The water was cold, but you got use to it. We got ice cream from an ice cream shop that was one of the first in the city. There’s so much more of Portugal I have to explore!

Thursday I didn’t have school because it was a holiday. This Friday morning I went to Sociology class where we watched a movie and then I didn’t have any more classes. I only have two days of school left; I don’t know how many classes I will have though. Santarèm is hosting agriculture fair next week so that will be fun!

Rock in Rio!!!

Rock in Rio!!!

Rock in Rio is a huge music festival in Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, which takes place the last two weekends in May. I went with my host sister and friends to Rock in Rio on Friday. We took the train to Lisbon and a metro to the park where Rock in Rio was held. There was a long line of people pouring out of the metro station, walking up to the entrance. We couldn’t take any food or liquids into the park and everyone had their bags checked. We finally made it to the entrance. The park was huge! There was a giant main stage in the center of a huge field. Right above the stage there was a giant zip line. People were zip lining over the crowd all through out the night. I thought it was pretty epic especially when there was a huge finale to a song and a person would zip across the screaming crowd. There were tons of food vendors, carnival rides, and smaller stages around. When we arrived, Mariza, a famous fado singer was performing. Fado is a traditional type of Portuguese music. Ivete Sangalo, a popular Brazilian singer, was on the main stage next. During these performances we walked around and took in all the sights. One stand was doing face painting so we got stripes of paint that glowed under mini black lights. We got free sunglasses from the Pepsi stand and free straw hats when we went on a ride. We were standing in line for a ride, similar to the tower of terror, when I heard my name. I turned around and saw Lily, one of the exchange students from America who came to Portugal for 6 months too. Over 50,000 people come to Rock in Rio everyday and we were lucky to bump into each other. She was with her host sister and another exchange student from the US who is on the year exchange program.

We walked back to find a good spot to watch John Mayer. The field around the stage filled up quickly. We were right on top of a hill looking down to the stage from the right side. There were people sitting down in front of us so we had a perfect view. John Mayer started singing at 10:00 p.m. and sang until 11:15. Let me just say, he is an insane guitar player. He switched guitars for every song. After the performance, the stage crew wheeled a huge box filled with guitars on the stage (there must have been over 30). There was a 30-minute break before Shakira took the stage. Fireworks lit up the sky and music played over the speakers. We sat down during the break and people took our original spots. I pushed my way forward to get some pictures when Shakira started singing but the music was loud so it didn’t matter that we couldn’t see. Shakira was amazing live and her song “She Wolf” was fantastic. We didn’t see the end of her performance because we decided to go to the huge tent blasting techno music that people were dancing too. The strobe lights were flashing and it was packed, but lots of fun. We left the park after 2 am and took the metro back to an apartment in Lisbon to spend the night. I was still really full of energy from the concerts and I think I got about 3 hours of sleep. My host mom picked us up in the morning and we went back to Santarèm for a half hour, just enough time to shower and repack. We drove to Evora and saw some of my host family’s relatives. It was my host sister’s birthday and we went go carting and hung out by the relative’s pool.

Before 8 p.m., my host sister and I put our party dresses and heels on and left to go to her cousins 18^th birthday party. Her cousin rented a building in the countryside outside of Evora for her party. We had dinner and there was a DJ outside so everyone danced under the stars. Portuguese like to party very very late so by the time we left it was after 5 a.m. We stayed at a friend’s house in Evora. As we walked up to the house, the morning chorus of birds was singing and the sky was getting lighter. We slept until 12:30 and the friend’s mom made us a huge lunch with soup, salad, lasagna, and fruit before we left. When we finally got back to Santarèm later that afternoon, I fell right asleep, waking up only to watch Glee with my host sisters and then fell back to bed. A very busy weekend, but it was so much fun!

Since school is almost over, this week is very packed with tests and projects to present. This weekend I have my “Good-Bye” Program in Coimbra. There are about 80 exchange students in Portugal from all around the world so they divided the group in half for the good-bye program. There are 35 students going to Coimbra and I think the rest are going to Braga. Ari is also going to Coimbra and some of the students from Argentina who arrived to Portugal in January. The other students are from the yearlong program and are from countries like Germany, Mexico, Italy, Norway, China and Turkey. I haven’t seen the other Americans since February so I’ll miss seeing them next weekend, but it will be fun to meet other exchange students since I’m the only one in Santarèm. Even though our plane departs to London, then NYC on June 26, we have to meet in Lisbon on June 25 for a “debriefing”. The host families aren’t allowed to see us to our plane. I don’t know how many of us would actually leave if they did come so it’s probably for the best. I can’t believe I only have five weeks left!

No School

Last Thursday I did not have school because the Pope came to Portugal. Some people believe that all Portuguese are very Catholic and very religious, but it really depends on the family. My first family went to church almost every week; my second family never goes. When I went to Galeana a few weeks ago there were groups people walking along the highway. In each group, there were about 2 to 5 people. Some had walking sticks and bright neon construction vests. If they had anything else, it was a small backpack or fanny pack. My host sister explained that they were going on “pilgrimages” to Leiria. To show their devotion to God, they sleep on the floors at places like fire stations. When the Pope came to Portugal he went to Lisbon first and then to Leiria to give a mass. Lots of people from Santarèm went in groups and walked to see him speak.

I took advantage of the day off from school and had another foreign exchange student visit me. Ari is also from the US and is here for 6 months. The five other Americans and I have kept in contact with each other. We email each other a lot and have been planning to get together. She is in Evora and really wanted to see more of Portugal so she came to visit me in Santarèm. Since Portugal, is a small country you can take a bus pretty much anywhere. My host sister went with me and we showed Ari around the city. We went back to Portas de Sol, looked at the old churches, and explored all the little shops. I showed her my school (I think I was the only student who went near the school on a day it was closed). The sun was shining and it was a perfect day to be outside. Santarèm is known for two pastries, pampilhos and celestes, so we went to the best pasteleria in the city to get them. Pampilhos are made of a sweet dough about an inch wide and three inches long and filled with a sweet custard. Celestes are made of an egg custard mixture and have chopped almonds mixed in and are wrapped in a paper-thin dough. We went to an Italian restaurant for lunch (It’s not that we’re sick of Portuguese food, but good Italian pizza sounded delicious). Wandering on one of the narrow roads we found an amazing chocolate shop. Tucked off to the side, with a small door and tiny window display, we walked right passed the first time. Luckily we realized our mistake and turned around. The inside was filled with a wall of wine, a wall of jam and a glass counter filled with chocolates. The flavors were endless: butter cream and champagne, caramel, praline, strawberry, apricot, cherries dipped in chocolate with liquor, dark chocolate mouse and ten types of truffles including, cappuccino, almond, dark chocolate. We did limit ourselves to one chocolate apiece since we were still full from lunch. We found a little shop with Portuguese souvenirs and we both finally bought a Portuguese flag. Our feet were sore by the end of the day, but we had so much fun! I may take a bus to Evora later this week so she can show me around her city.

Futebol!

Portuguese love their soccer (or futebol) teams. When I first arrived everyone asked, “So what club are you?” and I had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone still asks what my club is, but now I can answer. My family is Sporting Clube de Portugal so that’s the club I cheer for. There are different levels of soccer teams. The team in Santarèm is in a lower level because they aren’t very good. The three best teams are Benfica, Sporting Clube de Portugal and Porto. Benfica and Sporting are based in Lisbon and Porto is from Porto in northern Portugal. Yesterday, Benfica won the Portuguese League Crown for the 32 time. Before the Benfica game started, they were predicted to have a 94% chance of winning. Before the game started cars were honking in the streets and it sounded like fireworks were going off. After it was official that Benfica won, Benfica fans rushed to their cars and paraded down the street. They were honking and waving Benfica flags out the windows. The honking continued until after 11 p.m. In school today, Benfica fans were running down the halls with red scarves. In class, one guy laid out a red Benfica banner on his desk. The Sporting fans silently sulked. Sporting and Benfica are like the Yankees and Red Socks rivalry. Everyone will unite in June during the World Cup to cheer on Portugal.

Forcados in Action!

Second Bullfight

Second Bullfight

I went to my second bullfight on Saturday, May 1. I was shocked to see that one of the cavaleiros (people who ride the horses and stab the bulls with the spears) was a woman. There are only two or three women in Portugal who are cavaleiros. Women can’t be forcados because when they catch the bulls, the bulls impact their chests. The arena where the bullfight was held was much smaller than Santarèm’s arena. I found out later that Santarèm has the largest bullfighting arena in the country. This bullfight took a lot longer than the last one I went to and it was much more intense. My sister kept saying how awful the bulls were. When they charged at the pink flags or when the forcados tried to catch them they would throw their heads up and down and up and down. Imagine trying to hang on while 580 kilograms (1,278 pounds) is charging and bucking. One bull took over 5 tries to catch. Lots of men were thrown throughout the bullfight. When they hit the ground, if they were unlucky enough to be thrown or if they fell, the men immediately rolled into the fetal position, covering their heads with their hands. A few times the bull charged the men on the ground and threw them in the air. No one went away in an ambulance but a lot of men limped away, their clothes splattered with the bull’s blood. After the bulls leave the arena there is a vet waiting. The veterinarian takes out the spears and tries to stop the bleeding because the bulls won’t be killed until the next day.

After the bullfight, we were lucky enough to be invited to the Forcado’s dinner party. After every bullfight the Santarèm Group of Forcados have a dinner. We arrived at 9 p.m. and it didn’t finish until after 3:30 a.m. The forcados are mostly between the ages of 18 and 27. They don’t get paid for being a forcado; they do it because they like it. Some guys only do it for a year; others do it for as long as they can. It was a good chance for me to practice my Portuguese because the guy I sat next to only spoke a little English. They have a tradition at the dinners that every person who hasn’t attended before has to give a speech. My speech was half in Portuguese and half English but the majority of people could understand. I talked about how brave they all were and how impressed I was of the bullfight. There were lots of speeches given by new guests and by the bullfighters themselves. It was a jubilant dinner. The forcados had different songs for different people and they would break out clapping and singing. This is the 95^th year of the Santarèm Group of Forcados, the oldest bullfighting group in Portugal. While talking with one of the guys, he explained they were a close group. When in the arena they all shared a common goal, catch the bull. Bullfighting is a sport in Portugal like baseball is in the US. It’s a huge part of their culture.

I slept in late on Sunday since we got back at 4 a.m. from the party. My host sisters and I decided to go to their beach house for the afternoon since it was only a 40-minute drive away. At the beach, the wind was furiously blowing and it was cold. A big change from the 85-degree weather we had during the week. Never less, my youngest sister ran around and jumped in the waves in her swimsuit. I managed to get my jeans soaked after an unexpected wave crashed down.

I only have 5 weeks of school left, which is shocking. The other students will have to take national tests in June. The tests count for 30 percent of their final grade and they won’t find out until the end of June or early July if they’ve passed. If they fail the class they have to retake the class the next year. They can’t apply to college until after they get their test scores back. The test scores and their final average determine what schools they can apply to. It’s very hard to be a doctor in Portugal. You have to have a 19 out of 20 average to go to medical school in Portugal. Since college is mostly free, they only want the best at the medical schools. Some kids go to Spain or France for medical school if they aren’t accepted in Portugal. People have asked me what I’m majoring in college. My reply, “I don’t know yet, I don’t have to decide for another two years. I’m in a liberal art’s college so I can take what ever classes I want.” That is very different than the Portuguese system where they have to basically decide what they want to do before high school. One boy in my class switched from a Science track to a Humanities track and had to retake tenth grade to get the Humanities classes. I definitely prefer the U.S. system.

Torros!! Espana!

Torros!! Espana!

Last weekend, I traveled back to Galeana with my host sister. Just three weeks had passed since I had visited and the countryside was bursting with color. The fields looked like oceans of purple, white and yellow. The black bulls stood out against the brilliant flowers. Their father was having a tenta. At a tenta, he picks which cows will be used for breeding the bulls for bullfighting. There is a small bull arena at the farm, where the mock bullfight was held. People pay lots of money to come and watch and have lunch. We woke up early and the cooks were already preparing lunch and setting the long tables. The Spanish bullfighters had arrived and they were standing outside. They didn’t wear the fancy bullfighting outfits and they didn’t get paid for coming. It was considered training for them. At 11 a.m. a bus full of older men in a bullfighting club pulled around the driveway and we were almost ready to start the show. We put a tablecloth in the bed of an old truck and put baskets of cheese, fresh bread, potato chips, coolers of wine and juice carefully in the back. It was already 80 degrees out and the sun beat down on the dust bumpy road on the way to the training arena. I held onto the clattering glasses as tightly as I could as we crossed the fields to the arena. We parked the truck in the shade and walked over to see the cows. My host sister’s father looked at 6 cows at the tenta. The cows were two and a half years old. They were let out into the arena one at a time. Her father sat in a little closed off section on the edge of the arena. He had two huge ancient looking books. These books had the background information for every cow: their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. The books also said how the other cows performed, the how the bulls were that they produced.

In the arena was a man on a horse with a long pole. The horse had blinds over its eyes so it couldn’t see and padded covering. The Spanish bullfighters were positioned behind the barricades with their pink flags. When the cows were released the animals charged out spitefully kicking the sand and charging at everything. The man on the horse would yell and the cow would charge at the horse (hence the need for the protective armor covering on the horse). The man on horseback poked the cow with the long pole and one of the Spanish bullfighters would come out with their flag. My host sister’s father watched each cow for 20-30 minutes. He wrote down notes like how they charged, what position they kept their head in, how fast they changed direction and how their stamina and endurance changed from the beginning to end. Based on this information, he would decide if that cow would become a mother or if it would become a hamburger. The cows that were rejected would be kept on the farm for about 4 more years and then sent to the butcher. The skilled Spanish bullfighters waved their flag and tired the cow out. No one was hurt and sometimes you forget just how dangerous the sport is. We learned the next day that one of the best bullfighters in the world, José Tomás Román Martín, had been gored at a bullfight in Mexico. The bull put a six-inch hole in the man’s leg and he needed 17 pints of blood! The bullfighters have to constantly be on their guard and expect the unexpected. The spectators sat in plastic chairs on a raised level, smoking cigars, peering down through their smoke. After 3 cows, there was a break and everyone came over to the truck to get food and drinks.

After the event was over, everyone came back to the house to have a typically Portuguese meal. There were different types of Portuguese sausage, cooked cabbage, carrots, and beans, pork and chickpeas. It was served buffet style. As always in Portugal, the red wine ran freely, an empty bottle always being replaced seconds later with a full bottle. There were five or more different desserts including two cakes made from cookies and cream, an almond cake, and an egg and sugar dish.

Later when we were driving the cooks home, I saw the largest solar power plant in Portugal. It is placed on a plain in Alentejo; a place in Portugal that has the most amount of sun throughout the year. The solar panels are always at 45 degrees, but they turn to follow the sun’s path.

On Sunday, my host sister and I decided to “walk to Spain”. I opened a gate to a bull field and we drove in (shutting it behind us of course). The bulls just looked at us, but they ran away from the truck. We bumped along a dirt road until we came to the rusty gate that separates Portugal from Spain. It wasn’t hard to find a place where two pieces fence were tied together with a thin wire. We untwisted the wire and stepped into Spain. Spain looks a lot like Portugal, the rolling green hills dotted with flowers. We explored for a bit then we heard the distant sound of bells and bleating goats. Not wanted to confront the goats; they can sometimes have tempers; we headed back to the border. Near the fence a bunch of small barking dogs suddenly appeared. At first, we though they were wild dogs and I was getting ready to do some newly learned kempo moves (Last week, I went with my friend to her kempo training class. Kempo is a type of martial arts like karate). We noticed a man and his mule under a nearby tree and realized he was the goat herder and the dogs were his. We said, “Hola” and he helped us to reopen the fence and we walked back into Portugal.

Greetings!

Just like after any vacation, waking up early to go to school was difficult. Half of my school has been closed off and under construction since last summer. The newly renovated half was opened the day we arrived back to school. The half we were using is now closed down for construction. The workers moved the trailer like classrooms to the new side of the school because there still aren’t enough classrooms open inside the school. I have a few classes in the outside classrooms, but most are in the school. They repainted the school a brilliant mustard yellow. The color is so obtrusive and it burns your eyes to look at it when the sun reflects off of it. The inside is much calmer, though they must like bright colors because every classroom door is bright red with reddish/pinkish plexiglas in the middle. Sadly, the classrooms are painted a stark white. The teachers don’t move class to class so there is nothing on the walls. Everyone seems to like the renovations though. Besides the paint colors, I can’t complain. The new half is a lot nicer and fresher than the old side. We also have a huge new gym. It’s not finished yet though and I don’t know when it will be open.

On Wednesday I celebrated my 18^th birthday. My host sister passed her driving test so she drove me to school. I had lunch with my friends in a restaurant decorated with bull fighting posters and pictures. The food was delicious and we had lots of fun.

I don’t believe I’ve talked about how Portuguese greet people. When you greet someone, you give him or her one or two kisses (Guys to guys give handshakes or just say “hey”). You start moving to the left so your right cheek brushes their right cheek and then give an air kiss. Some people kiss cheeks if they know you better. The next step is tricky. Unfortunately, you can’t tell just by looking at a person if they give one or two kisses. You have to pull back slowly and see if the person moves to the right to kiss your left cheek or if they pull back. If they go in for another kiss, you have to do the same or else it’s awkward. While meeting someone for the first time I gave one kiss then pulled back, but the other person leaned in. I proceeded to lean in, right as they were pulling away. We clumsily knocked cheeks for the second kiss and it was very awkward. After that experience, when meeting new people my host sister tries to whisper to me or hold up one or two fingers to let me know how many kisses to give. There’s definitely an art to the Portuguese greeting. Now if people are across the street you don’t have to run over to give them kisses a wave will suffice for that. Sometimes people just say “hey” when they greet each other and just skip the kissing part, but you never really know what they’re going to do. Portuguese also kiss goodbye too.

This past weekend I was supposed to go to Galeana. My host sister’s father was going to pick the cows for breeding. They have a mock bullfight so they can find the most aggressive cows and use them for breeding aggressive bulls. It rained all last week and over the weekend so it was canceled. It is tentatively changed to this next weekend so hopefully I will get to go. Instead of going all the way to Galeana, we went to visit their grandparents in Evora for the weekend, which was nice. We’re supposed to have thunderstorms for the rest of the week, but at least it’s not snow. For an end statement: Beijinhos! Kisses! (It’s something Portuguese say when they’re saying good-bye to someone on the phone, someone in person (after giving actual kisses), or an ending for an informal letter.)

Pictures from Galeana and Evora

Easter Vacation

Vacation is almost over. As always it has gone by too fast. I was in Galeana for the first week. The surroundings of the farm were a sharp contrast to Santarem. There were fields upon fields, dirt roads, and the nearest village of Granja was about 15 minutes away. Granja had houses and a church. The nearest supermarket was over 30 minutes away. I could see a town in Spain from the farm I was staying at. The girl’s father’s house on the farm in Galeana was adorned with bull hides that covered the floor as rugs. There was a bull head mounted on the wall in the entrance room. The girl’s father has over 200 cattle on the farm. The bulls go to bull fights when they are four years old. He had different fields for each different age group of bulls. He also had cows in separate fields. There were also pigs on the farm that were raised for meat. We sat in the bed of his truck and their father took us into a field where the bulls were. The bulls live in paradise. There was a huge lake, green rolling hills, olive trees to provide shade. The bulls ran when they truck came close. We had to be very quiet so we would not scare them. Bulls are supposed to be raised with as little human contact as possible. In a bullfight, they become aggressive when their space is invaded and they are taunted. Bulls have very bad eyesight. In bullfights, they use a bright red or pink colored flag to wave to get the bulls attention. They are so focused on the brightly colored flag it distracts them from the person waving it. I was relieved to know they probably couldn’t tell us apart from the truck. Their father pointed out the bulls that were leaving the next day for bull fights. Each bull had a number branded into its hide so they could be picked out easily. Most of the bulls were black; a few had white spots on their hides. Some bulls go to Spain for bullfights others stay in Portugal. We drove into a pasture where the cows and calves were grazing. There was one old bull in the field with them, one of the few lucky ones that came back to the farm after the bullfight.

We went to visit a 14^th century castle about a 30 minutes drive from Galeana. The castle was positioned on the highest point so the view was magnificent. Inside the castle walls is a village that is still home to many people. There is a church, gift shops, cafes, and houses. There was a small bullfighting arena used for concerts and shows now. In the U.S. something that is considered to be old is 100 years old. Here if it’s 100 years old, it’s practically brand new. Their history is so immense that “old” is considered to be anything that has been around for 1,000 years.

For the second week of vacation, I stayed outside of the city of Evora. Evora’s history dates back more than two millennia. The city of Evora is surrounded by a tall stonewall. My host sisters and I did a little sight seeing. We visited Capela dos Ossos, the Chapel of Bones. A monk in the 16^th century made it his life’s work to cover the inside of the chapel with human bones. There are thought to be over 5,000 skeletons that were used. The bones are cemented in the walls and skulls line the painted ceiling. Even more ominous is the inscription above the entrance, “Nós ossos que aqui estamos pelos vossos esperamos” which translates to “We bones here, for yours await”. It was interesting but very creepy. We wandered the streets trying to find a certain shop where they made homemade ice cream. Finally after asking five people (four of which sent us in the wrong direction) we found it. They had homemade chocolates, crepes, and ice cream. We each ordered two scoops of creamy chocolate and sat in the shop watching the tourists come in with their hiking boots and fanny packs. We wandered up the streets to the Roman Temple of Evora, also known as the Temple of Diana. The temple was built in the 1^st century A.D. It has been destroyed and reconstructed many times. Still it was an impressive piece of architecture.

I celebrated Easter at my host family’s relative’s house near Evora. Easter is not a big holiday in Portugal, which I think is odd considering most people are Catholic. Only a few people went to church from their family. The one tradition is to have lamb on Easter. They also like to eat chocolate and candy covered almonds. We got chocolate eggs, but no Easter baskets like in the U.S. It is not typical to dye eggs here in Portugal. My mom sent an egg dying kit from NY and we got to dye some eggs then had an Easter egg hunt (mostly for my 8 year old host sister, but we all had fun).

While you all in NY can enjoy your week of vacation, it’s back to school for me. I just counted and I have about 9 weeks of school left. Where did the time go? Last night, my host sister and I dug out two bikes from storage, put air in the tires and biked around Santarem. It’s slightly nerve wracking to be biking on the streets when a car passes. You have to squeeze up to the barely existing sidewalks and try to make yourself seem smaller. We went to the park in Portas de Sol (the Sun Gate) and swung on the tire swings, dragging our feet in the sand as the sun set. Distant U.S. pop music was playing from a nearby café. My host sister takes her driving test on Tuesday and hopefully she will pass. She offered to drive me to school on Wednesday (my Birthday) to which my other host sister replied kidding, “She actually wants to enjoy her birthday, not be in a hospital on it!” Until then, the bikes will suffice. Winding our way back to the apartment we were still hot wearing t-shirts and flip-flops. The weather has been around 70 degrees and they say it will just get hotter. I got some sun this vacation so I don’t stand out as the vividly pale foreigner. It’s actually funny; when people first see me they think I’m from Eastern Europe, not America. Enjoy your vacations!

Bullfighting Pictures

Bullfight!

Bullfight!

My 1st Bullfight!

On Sunday, March 22, I went to my first bullfight. It started at 4 p.m. I went with my host sister, her father, and her friend. We were in the second row and had a perfect view of the circular arena. The arena had a sandy floor that was raked perfectly, like they do at baseball games. There were people selling popcorn other food and drinks just like at sporting events. There was a live band that played during the entire bullfight. An older heavier man sat in the front of the arena and he played the trumpet until his face turned red when ever the bull entered or something big happened.

Before the actual bullfight started, all the men who had jobs in the bullfight came out into the arena. First came the toureiros. Their job is to distract the bull by waving bright pink flags (similar to pictures of Spanish bullfights with the red flag). They had brightly colored elaborate sequined tight pants with jackets and bright pink tights. The forcados, the bull catchers, came out next. After the bull is stabbed many times with brightly decorated spears, they catch the bull. They wore white shirts, a red band around their waist, and flowered jackets with pants. Two men came out carrying long lances next. They help to get the bull out of the arena after the bullfight. Finally, out came three men on horseback, the cavaleiros. They were dressed in elaborate outfits as well and were on gorgeous horses. The horses did fancy steps and one could balance on its back two legs. After greeting the crowd, the arena emptied except for one of the cavaleiros and a few toureiros. The door on the side of the arena opened and the first bull came charging out. Before each bull entered, they announced where it came from, how old it was, and how much it weighed. All the bulls were all over 500 kilograms and jet black. In a Portuguese bullfight there are six bulls. The first bull came charging out and looked stunned to be surrounded by all the people. It blinked then charged at a pink flag one of the toureiros was waving. Right before the bull ran into the flag, the toureiro moved to the side and the bull had to stop and change directions. After doing that a few times, the cavaleiro approached with the first spear. The spears are wood and they are covered with shiny colored material (like what tinsel is made from). On the end is a metal arrow, shaped like an arrowhead, about an inch to an inch and a half long. The first two spears that they put in the bull are smaller, about a foot long. The cavaleiro’s tease the bull at first then they take the spear from the end so it hangs perpendicular to the ground. They approach the bull and when they have a good angle they pull up a little then stick it in the bulls back, right behind the shoulders. The crowd erupted in cheers every time a spear found its mark. The cavaleiro paraded around the arena, while the toureio’s were distracting the bull. The cavaleiro got another small spear and after putting that in the bull they used longer spears, about two feet long. The put 4-6 longer spears in the bull. The cavaleiros sometimes changed horses in the middle of the bullfight. They would exit the arena, and then come back on a different horse. They train many horses incase one gets sick or hurt. Each horse is good at different things so they pick the right horse for the bull. After stabbing the bull they lead the bull around in a tight circle so it can’t catch them. The bulls didn’t really show recognition they were being stabbed when the spears impacted them. They just continued to chase the horse. When the cavaleiro was finished, the bull had blood running from the places the spears had penetrated. The cavaleiro left the arena and the forcados jumped over the concrete wall surrounding the arena at the same time. The wall is low enough to jump over, the toureio’s jumped over it when the bull charged them, but too tall for the bull to get over. The lead forcado put on a green hat and stood in the middle of the arena facing the bull. There is a man who chooses which forcado should be in the very front. They choose based on the personality of the bull and then match it to a personality of one of the forcados. The rest of the forcados stand in a straight line behind the leader. The lead forcado shouts and approaches the bull. When the bull charges he grabs the horns and tries to hang on. Every bull kept running and smashed into the group of forcados. The men scramble to hold onto the bull and one man grabs the tail of the bull. When the bull is subdued they all let go, except for the man holding the tail. He holds on as the bull turns in a circle trying to get the man, until it’s dizzy. Then he lets go and walks away. The forcados clear the arena and a group of 5-6 cows is let into the arena. The bull won’t go on it’s own out of the arena so they use to the cows so it will follow them out. After the bull exits, the cavaleiro and the lead forcado come back out in the arena. They take a “victory lap” around the arena. Everyone cheers and people throw their hats or jackets to the arena as they pass. The forcado and cavaleiro pick them up and throw them back to the crowd. Some people throw presents or flowers, which they keep. Then a new cavaleiro would enter, and a new bull would be released. After the first three bulls, there was a short intermission. It took an hour and a half for the first three bulls to go.

The Portuguese bullfights are different from the Spanish bullfights. In Spanish bullfights there are no forcados or cavaleiros. Everything is done on foot. At the end of a Spanish bullfight they take a long sword and stab the bull in the heart to kill it, a very dramatic end. People have asked, “They don’t kill the bulls in Portugal right?” Well, no, but yes. They don’t kill the bull at the bullfight, but the next day they are slaughtered for meat. If the bulls are very brave, meaning very aggressive, there is a chance that they can be “saved”. If they are saved they go back to the fields and they are used to breed more aggressive bulls. Meaning, they get all the women and food they want for the rest of their lives. But only 5% of bulls are actually saved.

For the first week of Easter vacation, I will be traveling to Galeana (You can look it up on Google maps. It’s on the border with Spain and is in southern Portugal). The father raises bulls for bullfighting so that will be very interesting to see. Only two more days of school left! Some teachers have given up on teaching this last week. Tomorrow in physical education we just have to go to be marked as “present” then we can leave. Two week vacation here I come!

Moving

Written March 16th.

When I first received my host family information in December, AFS (the program I’m traveling through), said that I would be changing families half way through. I talked with my host family and they explained that they only wanted a student for less than three months. In September to November 2008 they had another American exchange student. I’ll call her C. C stayed with them only three months because that’s how long they were willing to have a student. Afterwards, she moved to a family right in the city of Santarem. AFS told me I would “probably” stay in the same town and school. I wasn’t sure how certain “probably” was so I was very nervous that I would have to change everything.


This weekend I went to my counselor’s house to stay because everyone in my host family was going out, either to friends or to parties. My counselor lives in the same apartment building as the family that C lived with for the rest of her stay in Portugal. My counselor introduced me to this family. The mother has four daughters; ages 18, 17, 13 and 8. The 17 year old is with C in America, living at her house as a foreign exchange student, which is neat. The 18 year old goes to a university in Lisbon and comes back on the weekends. She’s in the process of getting her license. It’s a huge process here. They can only start to get it when they turn 18. Then they have to take driving lessons and pay lots of money before taking their driving test after so many hours are completed. The mother is American, but she moved around to many countries as a child. She married a Portuguese man and ended up staying in Portugal (they are divorced now, but the kids still see him often). The mother and children speak Portuguese with a perfect Portuguese accent and English with a perfect American accent. They 8 year old will effortlessly switch between English and Portuguese in the same sentence. They invited me to stay in their apartment for the night so I did. Their family was so warm and welcoming, I instantly felt like I was at home. Saturday I saw Alice in Wonderland with my friend and hung out with the daughters in the family. I could just walk to the movies because their apartment is right in the city. I ended up staying the Saturday night too. Sunday, I went with the mother and two youngest girls to Lisbon. We went to the Hard Rock Café and walked around the city. Yes they do have Starbucks in Portugal! (Though I think only American tourists go there). They also have Ben and Jerry’s and Haagen-Dazs ice cream stores. After those 48 hours, the mother offered to be my next host family. She talked with my counselor and my counselor talked with AFS. So this Thursday, I will come to Vale de Figueira to have lunch then move to my new family.


At first I was so hesitant about having to pack and move, but I am so excited to move in with me new family. I will be going to the same school. The two youngest daughters start school the same time I do and their schools are close to mine so I can have them drive me or I can walk 25 minutes with a friend who lives near by. Vale de Figueira, my current town is about ten miles from Santarem so if I want to do something I have to plan days ahead and arrange a ride with my host parents. It’s going to be so convenient to be able to walk everywhere I need to go. One of my good friends lives 10 minutes away and I can hang out with more people after school instead of going home, which is what I’ve been doing most days. This Friday, is Father’s Day, a Holiday so we don’t have school. Next week is the last full week of school before the two-week Easter vacation.

School, Liaison, Orientation

Written March 9th.

I had my six-week orientation near Leiria from Friday February 26 to Sunday, February 28. I had to take the bus by myself to the orientation site and back home on Sunday. I have definitely improved my observation skills. When you can't understand anything, you do a lot of watching. All the students who are studying in Portugal for 6 months were there. There were four other Americans (besides myself), one girl from Chile, two girls from Costa Rica (they just arrived four weeks ago), and the four students from Argentina. There was also a boy from Thailand who had arrived late for the yearlong program and never got to go to an orientation so he was there as well. It was nice to see everyone again. All us Americans were relieved to actually be understood and to talk fast in English. Since the other students speak Spanish they have an easier time with the language. They said they could mostly understand what people say, it's just hard for them to say anything back because the accent and pronunciation is so different. The orientation leaders had to switch between speaking Spanish and English and some Portuguese so everyone could understand. We did lots of different activities and talked about how we could make the most out of the rest of our time in Portugal. One activity simulated our experiences. We divided up into three groups at three different tables and received instructions for a card game. Once the game started we couldn’t talk at all. The winner of each group had to move to another table. When the student from the other table started playing our game she was awful at it. Each table had a different game so trying to learn the new one was difficult without being able to communicate. Some students tried to help the new person, others just ignored them and some were just annoyed that they didn’t know the rules. It was a good metaphor for our experience here. It’s a whole new game, and we can’t play by our own rules. We have to learn the new rules and language in order to completely fit in. As Fernando Pessoa (a famous Portuguese poet) said, “Our language is our culture”. Once you know the language life is much easier. I still feel like I’m way behind with the language. It’s easier to read than to interpret what people are talking about. I have tutoring with my Portuguese teacher every Monday and it’s very useful. She brings workbooks meant for young children to learn Portuguese (rightly titled “SOS Portuguese”) and they help a lot. It’s funny how “American” some Portuguese people are. Her ring tone is Linkin Park and she said she and her daughter are addicted to Gossip Girl.

Thursday was “strike” day. This is when anyone who works for the government doesn’t go to work. Most of the teachers still went to my school though. I didn’t have Psychology because the teacher was striking but I still had PE and Sociology. In PE, a rugby instructor came in and taught us how to play. We each had belts that had two flags attached by Velcro. If a person from the opposite team ripped your flag off, you had to stop and pass the ball. We played with four players on a team. The object is to get the ball to your end zone, basically like soccer, but you throw and catch instead of passing and kicking. I somehow made an amazing fake and miraculously got past all four players on the opposing team to score my team a point. It was definitely the most fun I’ve had in PE class. Thursday also happened to be a rain free day! The sun was out and it was 60 degrees outside.

On Friday, the Psychology teacher did not show up again so we didn’t have class. Instead I went with my friends and we looked in some shops. It was pouring and some of the small streets were flooded. Everyone keeps saying how this much rain is not normal. There are iris’s that are already blooming here. They usually bloom at the end of April early May in NY. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned before, but there are no woods or forests around Santarem. I’m so use to looking out my window in NY and just seeing the Adirondack Mountains and the trees. There are trees here of course, just not a forest. You cannot fully appreciate what you have until you no longer have it.

Through the AFS program, each student gets a liaison, or counselor to talk to in their new home town. I just received the name of mine last week and Sunday she invited me over to lunch. I ended up staying for lunch and dinner and got back home around 11 pm (luckily my host family wasn't upset). My liaison is a woman, in her 50's. She has hosted 5 students before from all around the world. Her three grown children were there too. They live in Lisbon and drive up to Santarem about twice a month. I really liked getting another perspective of a Portuguese family. My host family is very nice, but I make sure everything is neat and organized. My liaison's apartment felt lived in. It was so nice to be able to do things like helping out setting the table and cleaning up. At my host family, the maid does it and it's so strange for me. I went back to Portas de Sol with her son and his wife because his wife had never seen it. It was neat to see all the water. It looked like a huge lake, where all the water is covering the vineyards. We went to see Shutter Island at the movies later and we ate dinner around 9:30. They had vegetables with every meal. My host family only eats vegetables sometimes and I've been craving them. I feel like I've just been eating tons of bread.

At school, I finally received my student card. It's basically like a credit card. You have to beep it to a sensor every morning to activate it. Then you can buy school supplies or test papers in the school store or food at the "bar" as they call it. They have the most delicious croissants and sweet rolls. The rolls have baked coconut on top and their so good to make a a ham and cheese sandwich.

I have another class trip to Lisbon on Friday. Hopefully it won't rain!

Food!

Written February 25. The past week it has rained everyday here. We have to take a different road to school because the road we usually take has over 3 feet of water on it. It is normal for the fields to flood during the winter, but usually it doesn’t rain for a week straight like it has this week. One village, near where I live, is completely surrounded by water and the only way to get to access the town is by boat. Firefighters bring supplies and food to the village everyday via motorboat.

I went to the movies here last weekend with my host family. The movies at the cinema are all Hollywood films so they are in English with Portuguese subtitles. Halfway through the movie, the movie stopped and the screen flashed “Interval”. In their theaters, they have a ten-minute intermission break. After ten minutes the movie resumes right where it left off. My friends and I are excited for Alice in Wonderland so when it comes out March 4 we will hopefully get to see it. After the film, we went to a sushi restaurant for dinner. Yes they have sushi in Portugal! I hadn’t had sushi for a very long time and I forgot how good it was. I think we need a sushi restaurant in Lowville…

Speaking of food… Portuguese food is very rich, but it’s all fantastic. My family buys fresh bread every other day at least. For breakfast I usually have a roll or a croissant. We always have thick white bread for lunch with a very hard crust and soft center. My family has a cheese platter they set out during lunch with at least 5 different cheeses at a time on it. I really like a type of soft goat cheese they eat. They also buy lots of Italian cheeses. My family has their own cook, a little woman who is shorter than me and probably around 70 years old. She tells my host mother what to buy every week and she prepares lunch and dinner everyday except Sunday and Saturday night. A traditional Portuguese fish is codfish. At the supermarket, the salted and dried codfish is laid out in huge piles. They have hundreds of ways to cook it. A common way is to boil the fresh codfish and serve it with hardboiled eggs and potatoes. Salt is used a lot in cooking. The cook has a huge container of salt by the stove and she reaches in and sprinkles in on everything. Instead of salad dressing, we have olive oil and three different types of salt on the lettuce. The Portuguese know how to cook pork. Every Monday, we have pork cooked about 6 different ways for lunch. They eat the ear and the brain of the pig too (I have politely declined those parts). In some instances, I have found that the policy of “Don’t ask Don’t tell” works well when trying new food. For example, I have had goose liver and pig kidney and they were much easier to try when I didn’t know what I was trying. The goose liver was in a creamed and put in a mold so it was easy to spread on bread. It was okay at first, but the after taste had me scrambling for a piece of plain bread. Pig kidney has a weird texture (like a mushroom) and a different taste. The first time I had it I had to concentrate on chewing and swallowing. The cook makes the most delicious sauces to put on all the meat she prepares. Her pot roast is par to none. For dinner we always start off with a soup, have a main meal, then have fruit for dessert. I never realized how delicious mangos were until I had a ripe one here. Portuguese pastries are mouth watering! They have a traditional pastry that has a crust of phyllo dough and is filled with sweet custard. The Pasteleria’s display their pastries in their front windows and they make me drool just to pass them. They sell cakes and sugared rolls, filled donuts and much more. In Portugal, all their stores are very specialized. The supermarkets have all different types of food and basic necessities like shampoo, toilet paper and some makeup. All the pharmacies in Portugal are exactly the same. They all have a green sign shaped in a cross that lights up outside each store. To get my contact solution, instead of just going to the supermarket like I would at home, I had to go to an eyeglasses store to purchase it.

I go to Leiria tomorrow for an AFS orientation. Leiria is about an hour North of Santarem and right on the coast. It will be great to see the other American exchange students that I came over with. We have been keeping in contact with each other through email and facebook comparing our schools and new life. I can’t wait to speak English fast again when I’m there! We are staying right on the beach, but I don’t think we will go swimming. We are supposed to bring a dish from our country, but we can’t cook anything there so I’m going to make some chocolate chip cookies today. The other Americans and I were trying to come up with American dishes and all we could think of were desserts like brownies and apple pie. One of the guys can’t cook so he’s making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I joked that I should just go to McDonalds and buy some cheeseburgers.

Bull Fighting Training

Written on February 15, 2010.

On Saturday, after running errands with the family in Santarem, we ended up watching some bull fighting training. We pulled up to a small arena on a back street in the small town in which my host family lives. The concrete arena was about the fourth of a soccer field. The walls were more than ten feet high. There was a platform around the outside of the arena where men were standing, watching the events below. There was were stands where some girls were sitting googling at the guys below. There were about twenty guys between the ages of 18-40 (mostly younger guys) clustered in the arena. The arena was muddy; in some spots the dirty water was over six inches deep. My host father explained that they train for bull fighting about twice a month. They use wild cows to train, which are gentler than bulls (or suppose to be). There were about four concrete barricades set up around the arena close to the wall. There was just enough space between the barricade and wall to fit a body and about four could fit shoulder to shoulder behind the barricade. The men clustered behind them and then a door was opened and the wild cow charged into the arena. It's hide was flanked with dried mud. The cow stood there confused in the light for a second before charging at its first victim. The men yelled to get it to change directions. They continued to distract the bull and tire it out.

The men train to "catch the bull". In bull fights, after the bull is stabbed and run down a group of guys have the difficult task of catching the animal. In the arena, one man stood in front and a group stood a few feet behind him in a single file line. The man in front yelled and the cow charged. Instead of fleeing, the man took the cow's impact fully in the stomach and grabbed it by the horns. The horns are wrapped in leather so the are a little less lethal, though they can still cause damage. The men in the group grabbed the cow and got it under their control. Once they had control, they set it lose and another group stepped up to practice catching the cow. Many guys were pushed to the muddy earth by the cow, rolled on by the animal, and basically trampled. Every time they got right back up and continued on trying to tackle the animal. Bull fighting starts after Easter so they only have a few more times to practice before encountering the real wild bull in the arena surrounded by anxious spectators. My host brother said he never wanted to be a bull fighter, because of the danger. Many men end up with permanent injuries from bull fighting. My host father said guys can start training at age 15. But little kids can also "bull" fight. He showed me a book of bull fighting and there were pictures of seven year olds catching calves. Watching was interesting, but I'm not going to have the urge to get in an arena with a wild bull to grab it by the horns anytime soon.