Formentera: Life in a basket

Formentera was one of the most beautiful islands I have visited. Fresh air, crystal clear ocean, white sand, exclusive beaches, thick forests, haunting mountains and a sense of tranquility that you can only find on a relatively untouched island.

There were mainly 3 sorts of people we encountered on this trip. Valenciano's (yeah!), hippies, and Valenciano's turned into hippies.

(N.B: I don't like using classifications for people, for today especially, being a 'hippy' is being in fashion. Such people classifications follow modas and are superficial. Being a hippy to me is more a state of mind and way of living, with nothing to do with the way you look. To clarify: if you have dreadlocks, piercings, torn, dirty yet colourful and striped clothes and smoke pot, it doesn't make you a hippy. Just like wearing a suit and having a picket fence house, doesn't make you a yuppie.)

So what were these hippies? Perhaps the real kind. Although they did look stereotypically hippy, they also lived in the forest with no roof, electricity, or water. They were not quite sure where they would get their next meal from or where they would sleep if it would rain. They all carried their belongings in a basket or small rucksack. This normally included: a few clothes including a jumper and socks, soap, a book or two, a notepad, pen, and certain invaluable (pricewise) though sentimental, that they had gathered there, or when they had to get rid of most their stuff. Punto. This was their whole life, in a basket.

They made music on the street, sold handmade articrafts, smoked pot and were forever smiling. Some had come to Formentera for a week, and landed up staying a year and counting. Ex-bar tenders, painters, real estate agents now lived here in total abandonment of everything, not a care in the world and not a penny in the bank. This was about half of the island. What is everyone running away from?

Some said that Formentera has this effect on people. It is an island with the effect of a magnet. An island that takes you on a trip into yourself. Lets you just be. Hmm. I think it let me be too, for those 5 days I was there. I think it's the nature the island allows you to be in - without a million people around you. The island is quite undeveloped. Allows you to be in as natural a surrounding as possible.

We rented bicycles while we were there and went to 3 points of the 4, of the island. Rode up hills, through forests to a lighthouse. Effortlessing rode down at sunset, breathing in fresh air, not a soul in sight. Rode along the coastline, from beach to beach. Swam and bathed in the ocean, ate organic food and slept in the wilderness. Although I've done similar things in Thailand and Australia, it is not entirely the same. Thailand and Oz, both have their own charm, and so does this island.

At night we didn't have means of getting around. After riding a bicycle all day, it can get tiring to hop on again at night, and if you fancy a drink - it's not a good idea. No taxi's, no buses. You have to hitch-hike. And bless all those people who stopped to give us a ride. All those people who didn't - shame on you. One day when you need a ride, you won't get one. It's karma.

All in all, a great trip. A bit expensive - as everything is imported on the island, but well worth the trip if you fancy a simple get away in the heart of nature.

(ARGH: for once I have decent pics, can't upload them for some reason! :(

Formentera here I come!

Chicos Chicas, this is where I'm going to be spending the next 5 days! Sun, beach, sangria, seafood and Ibiza is on the agenda. (among other things ofcourse :)

On a separate note: I have a feeling my posts have been very random, inadequate and boringly philosophical lately. Hmmm.

Hope to have some more lively posts once I get back from acquiring a sexy Mediterranean tan!
Hasta luego!

Buñol Tomatina Festival

Yes today was Tomatina. For those who haven't heard about this festival: it is one hour of tomato warfare that takes place in a village called Bunol (38KM from Valencia), every last Wednesday of August.

My flat mates came home totally raped by tomatoes. No clothes or shoes, red eyes and sore bodies. Thank goodness I didn't have the ganas to go! I suppose I would have gone if I wasn't Indian and hadn't played Holi for 10 years of my life. Holi is an Indian festival is played with semi-permanent colour and varnish, by the whole country, ALL DAY, but has some vague yet meaningful significance (which I can't remember at the moment).

Tomatina - has no reason. People throw tomatoes at each other, for no reason at all. HOW SPANISH :)) It is said that people aren't drunk because it is in the morning; but I'm sure people were probably drinking all night to be able to enjoy getting their clothes ripped and being smothered by tomatoes.

It's random cultural things like this that really makes me wonder about the human species sometimes.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

After 4 super days in Madrid, here I am sitting at home, in my balcony with my laptop and the utter realisation that my glorious days in Spain are numbered. I have been in Spain 3 months, with less than 3 left, and no clue what next.

Have been infront of my computer all day, reading, surfing, searching for something that will guide my thoughts. Bumped into an old friend R on msn - someone I haven't spoken to or seen since high school - but he is one of those who always seems to be around for me in some random, virtual, undefinable way. Seems like my vibes of being totally lost were felt over msn and he told me to read this.

It is Steve Jobs's speech to graduates at Stanford University in June 2005. Wonderfully narrated, heart wrenching overwhelmingly inspirational and tremendously encouraging. A must read, especially if you are slightly lost about your life.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

My most expensive possessions

Yup. Salsa dancing shoes. 4 in Spain and 3 in Dubai. Thats about 800 Euros flat. Wow. I have paid more for dancing shoes in a year than I have for underwear or bread. But what joy to wear comfortable, somewhat sexy dancing shoes. Have not had the luxury of wearing many brands, but amongst what I have tried - Supadance shoes are beyond comparison. I could run a marathon in them. Ok, not true - but you know what I mean.

Other brands that I recommend:
Solodance - the Spanish shoe company is a good buy. Comfy, distinct style, less expensive (approx.E75)
Portdance - just bought these. The Portugeese company seems to be very much like Supadance. Haven't been dancing yet, but have walked in them. Feels good.
Capezio - BIG NO. I have had them for a year, worn them 3 times - with and without stockings and never have I come home without blisters. Good dancing shoes do not rape your feet like that.

I'm no dance shoe expert - but from the 8 odd pairs I have bought and used so far, there are a few tips I could offer:

- Always buy a size smaller:
They stretch significantly, and when you buy a size smaller after wearing them out once, they kind of fit like a mould to your feet. I personally believe that when they fit like a glove, they help you dance with more stability and traction. But make sure your feet can still breath when you buy them. A good way to judge is by wearing stockings when you try them on. As they are slippery, tighter shoes will seem fit but more comfortable with them on, thats how they will feel once they stretch a bit, so dont worry if when you take the stockings off, you have to squeeze your feet in

- Satin stretches more than leather:
You might want to consider a half size even smaller for satin shoes. I am normally a 5 UK, in satin my 4 has opened significantly, now I wish they were tighter!

- Always buy branded dance shoes:
I am not a brand person, but if there is one thing I will always buy branded - its dancing shoes. Very important - if you are dancing 3 hours a night, you dont want shoes messing up your your tendens, foot muscles, ankles and calves. However, no matter how good the shoes are - your feet will always look a mess after dancing. (My feet look disastrous!) A nice rub in the shower + cream at night does the trick. If anyone knows a better solution for dance-wrecked feet, please share!

-If in doubt, dont:
If you dont like the shoes in the store, or feel you are settling for second best, dont buy them. Believe me, you will not wear them on the dance floor. If you like the gold, but have more silver stuff - but dont like the silver shoes, buy the gold or dont buy either.

- Try different brands:
I think this is a good practice. Your feet need the change too.

- Do you really have to change your shoes once you are off the dance floor?
Ok, I understand that they are dancing shoes meant for dancing, not walking, and are branded and expensive - so you want to take special care of them. But when you are dancing your legs off 4 nights a week, 4 hours a night - how is walking to and from your car in the same shoes going to change their durability or whatever you are trying to preserve? I know wayyyy to many people who do this, I used to - but dont anymore, felt stupid - is there a reason I am totally missing?

Ok its late and I have babbled enough about dancing shoes.

Dance on!

Living the vida locale

I hate tourists. But I am one of them!

After spending the last 3 months in Spain, I am realising how deep the difference is between visiting a place and living in a place. Yes the difference is obvious to every moron, but experiencing it is a whole different story. I am really seeing Spain the way it should be seen.

I feel at home here. I feel like a local. I say to myself ' bloody tourists' when I see them. I don't want to communicate with people from outside Spain. The Carmen is my Barrio. The people here are my friends. I wake up every morning wanting to go to my coffee shop. I pretend I understand everything when I read the local newspaper in Spanish! I want to be able to speak fluently - my Spanish still gives me away.

I didn't like going back to being a tourist even when I went to Barcelona a few weeks ago. And I wonder if I will ever want to be a tourist again? After this, I rather take time off and live in another country than just visit it for a few weeks. It seems a waste to going anywhere for just a few weeks now. Hmmm.

But living like this - hopping countries for extended periods of time, chilling out and just being - is easier said than done. But possible.

In Spain, I feel like I am living. A much needed break. A break that is not yet allowing me to think beyond. Do I really need to think beyond? Can I just go with the flow?
What is it that I want to do with my life? Do I really need to know?

We read a poem in class today, it's by Nadine Stair - something the she thinking when she is 85 years old, lying on her death bed.

Although it's in Spanish, here are some extracts , that I have attempted to translate:

"If I could have a new life...I would not try to be perfect, would relax a bit more. Would be a bit silly and not take things so seriously. I would take more risks, travel alot more, enjoy more sunsets and swim more rivers.

I would eat more ice-cream and less cabbage. I would not waste time worrying about imaginary problems. I wouldn't always carry my thermometre, bottle of water and parachute everywhere I go. I would walk bare foot..."

This poem really hit me when I read it. Put things into perspective. You can find the full poem in Spanish here.

Barcelona

I came back from Barcelona last weekend a bit disappointed. The city is large, ....large....and full of tourists. If it wasn't for the Sagrada de Familia, I could have been in Disneyland. Don't get me wrong, it does have some nice barrios - Barrio Born and Gotic were my favourites - but over all -infiltrated with tourists in their holiday hats and backpacks. I did enjoy watching all the street acts though - Che Guevara was my fave , shockingly real.

Anyway, this extract from an FT article posted on Gridskipper, couldn't have said it better:

A few hundred metres away, Las Ramblas is full to bursting point. Yet it’s empty of atmosphere. There’s nothing wrong with this tree-lined street with traffic either side, its centre given over to a fluctuating mass of pedestrians. If you like balloon-twisters, portrait-sketchers and living statues (a hooded monk; Christopher Columbus; a painter falling off his ladder) it’s a good place to come. But nothing unique or special has survived the tourist invasion.

Basically...go to Valencia instead :)

Just no ganas!

Yes I have been terribly vaga the last few weeks. Not having the ganas to do anything productive, my days have merely been: Spanish, sun, dancing and day-dreaming. Just one of those introspective yet thoroughly blank phases - have you had those?

But have managed to give myself a kick and should be back on track starting tomorrow. Am off to Barcelona for the weekend - am very excited! will try to take lots of pics and will post them. Need to do the same for Valencia. Ojhala soon.

My blank phase did take me to an eclectic (?) Pet Shop Boys concert though (it was free!) where I sang my heart out to ''It's a Sin"!

*sigh* hasta pronto!

Gift of the gab

Yesterday I went to a Spanish auction at a bar. No, it is not the classy – big hall, big bucks and designer wear auction we are used to watching on tele; it was an auction of absolute crap.

This dude, owns an antique shop and whatever he cannot sell in his shop, he auctions – every Tuesday at midnight, at this bar in the Carmen (I forget the name). All auctions start at €1. And boy can he talk! He sold a dirty blue bucket for 11 Euros! This red flask that you see in the picture went for 9 Euros! Other things included old magazines, sofa pillows, tea cups, hangers! (that by the way went for Euro 3 a piece!) He even sold black and white pictures of people you didn’t know.

It was amazing to see him rock the audience, make them laugh and then make them by something ridiculous, for a ridiculous price. And I thought I had the gift of the gab!

Walking the dog

Since I am part of a family now, I sometimes get allocated the duty to walk the dog so he can do his pee pee ka ka on the street rather than in our home. Now, never having been the owner of a dog, this is new to me and rather interesting.

I don’t know if this is normal, but Franky looks for good places to pee. He knows exactly where he wants to pee and where he doesn’t. And there seem to be so many good places to pee, that he doesn’t pee more than a few drops in one place, as if he wants to cover as many spots as he can in one trip!

What I have learnt:

-A corner is better than a side
-All poles are prime locations
-The wheels of fancy cars too good to miss, even if you can’t pee anymore…just try, it’s worth the raising of the leg.
-It is fun to pee on every step as you are going up or down them
-Grass and sand offer comfortable spots for kaka

Somewhere in between

I can’t speak Spanish and my English seems to be depreciating rapidly.

I don´t know enough about whats happening in Spain, nor the rest of the world!

I have read half of two English books and half of 3 Spanish books.

I have many acquaintances, but no friends.

I am not eating very healthy food – but it isn’t unhealthy either.

I’m here to learn Spanish, but other than attending class and doing my homework, I’m not doing much to speed up the process.

I have been here 7 weeks, and yet only visited Barcelona.

I am very much in Spain – mentally; yet I’m wondering, what next?

Conclusion: I’m in a large space and the world is my oyster. Options seem boundless, yet I cannot put my finger on even one.

Buenos noches.

Valencia turns into Disneyland

Valencia has been in the limelight lately due to the fact that the Pope is visiting us this weekend. Over 1 million people are coming to get a glimpse of who they might call God on earth. The streets are already heaving with people wearing yellow bags and hats, and the plazas have turned into funfairs.

It is interesting to see all the preparations for the Popes arrival: yellow and white Valencia flags every where- outside most houses, balconies, hotels, shops; yellow and white flowers neatly laid out on all the streets, police EVERYWHERE, and they say phone reception will be cut off those few days in prime areas. Most the town will be closed and pubic transport suspended. Even prices of things like water and coffee have gone up for this period! You get this very festive vibe-like everyone is in Disneyland, waiting for Micky Mouse to arrive. (no offense intended!)

As many as there are signs saying ‘te esperamos’ (we are waiting for you); there are many signs saying ‘jo no te espere’ (I am not waiting for you). There is an entire cult of people who are so against what the Pope stands for and all the money being spent for his arrival. I have been tempted to leave Valencia this weekend, just to be away from all the chaos. But perhaps I’ll stay to witness the hungama this event promises!

Valencia train crash

I can’t remember the last time I was in a place that had a disaster. The line that crashed was one frequented by most the population – I could have been on it; I’m lucky that I choose to walk everywhere. There was a huge mass at one of the main Cathedrals today for all who lost their lives.

Thanks to all those who remembered me and cared to find out how I was!

Barcelona Salsa Congress 2006

Wow. My first Congress. What a joy to be amongst people who know what they are doing, and do it darn well- always with the biggest smile! Salsa LA, Cubano, NY, London, Puerto Rico; Rumba, Samba, Regaton, Salsa swing/flamenco/jazz/hiphop/funk/latin hustle, ladies styling, body isolation, freestyle, chacha, bachata, dancing on the 1, 2 and 3, salsa acrobatics – name it and you could learn it in these three days. Teachers included maestros such as Super Mario (just fantastic), Manual Mascarel, Carmen Lorente (stunning), Papa Rumba, Leon Rose, Susana Montero (excellent), Swing Guys, Tito and Tamara…and that’s just a few of them.
Over and above that there were over 40 mind-blowing performances and a competition. Workshops all day, and then shows followed by fiesta all night long.

It has taken me two days to recover, but I’ll be back on the dance floor tomorrow!

Numb and mumb

I have spent 4 nights dancing my legs off. 1-8am, Wednesday to Saturday. My body hurts and my feet refuse to accept shoes. These extended evenings dancing the night away were with a bright bunch of Espanols who can barely speak a word in English. Thank God we were dancing. They took me from one restaurant to another, club to club, town to town, with tremendous patience and a perpetual smile (I was probably being laughed at most the time, but all in good humour I hope!). Constructing a line correctly in Spanish still requires me to think for a few seconds after every word; never I have I been such a silent listener. Spanish people joke a lot, and even though I may understand them sometimes, I have no idea how to respond appropriately. In a nutshell, in Spanish I am a retard with no sense of humour.

Of course with this schedule, my Spanish study has gone down the drain – back to the point where I don’t understand my homework. BUT, I have been exposed to the “real” stuff; listening to hours of Spanish conversation is very stressful and churns your brain far more than homework. Well, that’s my excuse anyway :)

Bored of saying “lo siento, no entiendo, puedes repitir?” (sorry, I don’t understand, please can you repeat), I have started saying “despues dos meses mas, hablo espanol” (ok smarties who speak Spanish, I haven’t learnt future tense yet – so I know this sentence is wrong). So my stakes are high, if I can’t speak in the next 2 months, I’ll probably be buying my flight ticket home.

Mi nueva casa

Yes I have moved into my new place with Spanish husband-and- Bolivian husband roommates. And their dog, Franky. The place is really nice, in the heart of Barrio del Carmen, one of the coolest alternative areas in Valencia. However as much as it was a rosy picture before I came, a few hiccups have surfaced.

If I switch my AC on, it rains in my bathroom.

As I don’t have curtains, I have been giving free shows to all my neighbours.

Franky is not potty trained.

I face the mainroad which is very very noisy!

At night I can hear the conversation of everyone on the street, because it’s narrow and echos.

Ok no more bitching.

The guys are really nice though, and hopefully my Spanish will get a real lift while I am here.

I'm afraid

I’m afraid of Indian/Pakistani men in Spain. I know this is a terrible thing to say about fellow country men, but I truly am. While I have been in Spain, I have not seen any Indian/Pakistani women, but I have seen quite a few men. And an Indian/Pakistani can quite easily spot another, especially abroad. Now when you do, and even if you catch their eye by mistake – that’s enough for them to believe they can come and chat to you. “Where are you from?” “What are you doing here?” “How long for?” “Who are you here with?” “Do you live alone?” “Can I have your phone number?” “How can I see you again”? uuuhghhhg.

The other day I bought a telephone card ‘Mera Pakistan’(hehe) from a shop owned by some cut surds (Punjabis); One of the guys followed me out of his store to the internet café; walked out when I walked out, then while I was on the phone using the Mera Pakistan card for about half an hour, he was standing across the road from me, it seemed like he was watching me. Of course I ignored him completely. He followed me to my tram stop – after which I lost him. What’s that about? Another time, a Pakistani dude came and sat next to me in the tram. Spoke to me in Urdu and of course I had to respond. Same questions, he even got off at my tram stop so he could give me his number. Luckily, I pretended not to have a pen, and neither did he have one.

I’m going to sound terrible saying this, but these are the kind of men you wouldn’t even talk to in India, at least on a social level. Not educated, smelly, Pathan types. How do they land up in Spain? With residency cards!?

Anyway, I’m sorry, they are probably harmless and will not bother me if I don’t entertain their conversations, but I feel threatened by them. Hopefully there won’t be a next time, but if there is – I will pretend to be Columbian and say something super fast in Spanish.

What it takes to be a Hispanic chica totalmente

A mullet:

Seriously! Every other young Spanish chick has one. A long flowing mullet. Like they're not sure if they want long hair, or short – so they get a concoction of both: a mullet.

A bad dye-job:

If you don’t want a mullet, dye your hair. If it’s blond – dye it red; if it’s black – dye it blond and when your roots start growing, that’s cool, it’s supposed to look that way.

Smoke:

Every 5 minutes, especially while walking somewhere, that’s the coolest.

Off shoulder clothes:

Whether you are 15 or 50, anything that is falling off your top is hot.

Pierce your upper lip:

Yup, right where Marilyn Monroe had her mole.

Where do I start?

Barcelona Salsa Congress 2006

I’m going! Well I still need to sort everything out, but I’m going - June30-July2. It’s going to be 72 hours of dancing! Workshops in the day with over 50 internationally renowned teachers and parties at night. I have been dancing over 3 years and I haven’t ever been to a congress, so I’m really chuffed about this. I think it will be a great way for me to get to know salseros in Valencia / Spain well. This should help me when I choose to travel around Spain, I’ll hopefully get to know the right people and the right places to go dancing.

The venue is 30mins from Barcelona by train and is near the beach! So it’s going to be salsa and sun. I’m excited. And I need new dancing shoes.

Wireless in Spain

So here’s the deal:

There are hardly any wireless hotspots in Valencia.

Explaining to anyone what you need IN ENGLISH is another story all together.

If you want wireless, these are your options:

1) Get a wireless ADSL/ISD connection in your home by contacting any of the telecom providers: Vodafone, Telefonica, Movistar.
This is a) a pain the ass (communicating, coordinating) b) the radius of the frequency is only 100 metres, and if there are walls/houses/ etc within that distance, it will affect the speed and quality of the connection.

2) Get a 3G wireless card that is supplied by the telecom providers for around Euro 149 (prepaid). This will allow you to surf for around 80 hours (if you are using the net normally; if you are downloading movies/music it will be much less)

BUT if you have a laptop like mine – that doesn’t have a PCDMIA card slot – you cannot use this. Yes, my computer is too new for this technology.

If you are staying in Spain for 18 months or more, you can get a contract deal where you pay something like Euro56 a month for unlimited wireless. But you might need to show them a residency card for this and you will need to give them a bank account number.

3) For Euro 75, you can buy a wireless chip from Vodafone (not sure if the other two sell this), that you put into your mobile phone that gives you around 80 hours of wireless. You can renew for the same price. BUT your phone needs to have 3G, or you must buy a 3G phone for Euro200.

Of course I have a phone from the 90’s, so I don’t qualify for this either.

The guys who I will be living with in my new apartment said they have some network in the house. I pray it to be wireless that I can connect to, or will go for this option.

I have been very lucky this weekend though: my computer has been connecting to some wireless in my neighbourhood, so I didn’t have to visit the smelly internet café I go to most the time! (where I get bitten by mosquitoes).