Summer at UCLM and my Abuelas: “¡come más!”

Hello all! I am currently writing you from a bus on my way through cloudy and wet, but beautiful Basque Country in northern Spain.  Seriously, the forecast said it wasn’t going to rain this weekend and it rained every day. I have spent the past three days visiting fellow CISLA scholar Mari Giaimo in Bilbao, and even went to a sardine festival in a small port town with Mari and her boss.  Stay tuned for a joint blog post about what happened in Santuce.

 

I, however, am spending my summer in Toledo, Spain, a small city just south of Madrid. I could never imagine living in such a historical city.  Going back over 2,000 years, Toledo has served as a city for the Romans, the capital of the Visigoths, a center for the Emirate of Cordoba, and a military post for the Christian kingdoms after they conquered the city from the Moors in 1085.

 

I am completing research at Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha under the supervision of the university’s academic director of internationalization and professor of law, Dr. Jordi Gimeno Bevía.  My research pertains to laws made by the central government in regards to Basque nationalist parties as part of their counterterrorism strategy against ETA, a terrorist organization that disbanded earlier this spring after being actively violent for over fifty years. While my internship requires a lot of independent work, I am fortunate enough to have been given a table in the Centro de Estudios Europeos to complete my research. Silvia and Enrique, the two employees in the Center, are as nice as can be and are willing to help me with anything I need (including recommending the best restaurants in Toledo!).

 

 

Halfway through my morning I usually grab coffee with somebody from the office or another student for the traditional spanish “segundo desayuno.”  I personally think the second breakfast is ridiculous and unnecessary and thus I skip bocadillos and croissants and just go for the coffee. However, it is a great way to take a break and meet people from the university.  My day at the office usually ends around 14:00 and then I make the short walk home to have lunch. After a mini siesta I head over to the Biblioteca Autonómica de Castilla-La Mancha located in the Real Alcazar, a beautiful building built as a palace by the Romans, restored in the 1540s, and then again restored after the Spanish Civil War. There I have even more resources available to me, which has really been a game changer for my research.  

As for my life in Toledo, the city has a lot of history to soak in.  I have found my own personal tour guide in my intercambio (language exchange partner), Eugenio, who is currently studying for his C2 English exam in the fall. We spend three to four hours a week walking around the historical center. He speaks in English and I speak in Spanish.  On days that I don’t meet with Eugenio, I usually go to my favorite park, Parque de las Tres Culturas, to read and relax.  I’m currently reading the book Patria by Fernando Aramburu, as multiple people have recommended it to me, given my research on ETA.  For anybody who is interested in how a people, in this case, the Basques, can live together and deal with dark times of conflict, I recommend this book.  (I have even found a few copies in Italian. @Ege).

I want to end this post with a short story about some of my favorite people in Toledo and one in particular, Dolores. When I first arrived, the older women in my apartment building were concerned about me living without a señora, as I would not have somebody to feed me or do my laundry or make sure my room is tidy.  At first, I was slightly offended that they thought my 21-year self could not survive without a mother. The stubbornness in me made me hesitant (only for a second) to accept an invitation to lunch with Dolores who lives in the apartment above me. Dolores is a great cook and does the stereotypical spanish mother thing where she shouts at you “come más,”  “no has comido nada,” and “venga hija,” well after you have eaten twice as much as you probably should have. She is a stickler for good grammar, which has been very helpful to me as I attempt to improve my spanish. After our first lunch date, she invited me back for lunch the following week and I promised her that I would bring a dish. She was now the one with hesitations but smiled and said “vale.”  The next week I brought patatas aliñas, a traditional Andalucian dish that I learned to make while I was studying in Seville. She was impressed and told me that she supposed I didn’t need a mother to cook for me, but that I was welcome to lunch with her whenever I wanted. She seemed disappointed, so I made sure to share with her that my mother was the first person I called when my washing machine stopped draining.  (Because let’s be honest CISLA scholars, we call our parents, even when we are thousands of miles away when there is a problem that seems impossible to fix). Dolores chuckled, gave me two kisses, and shouted “hasta luego, guapa,” as I walked down the one flight of stairs that separate our apartments. But Dolores isn’t the only señora who’s looking out for me in Toledo; there are a few other women in my building who have also taken me in. If I go away for a weekend, there are always at least two knocks on my door the following Monday to ensure that I am okay and to tell me to tidy up my living room.  

Well, that’s it for now.  I hope that you have enjoyed reading my post! And remember: don’t forget to call your parents; they love hearing from you and they can teach you how to drain a washing machine from over the phone!

 

AND, lastly, don’t forget to stay tuned for a joint blog post from Mari and me about what happened in Santuce.

 

Signing off,

Morgan