(brief) Return to America

Last week I left Scotland for a brief return to Columbia and the City of New York. Whew – it was a whirlwind tour – I left Edinburgh early in morning on Thursday and returned early Monday. I cannot say I would recommend such a trip – I spent half the time in New York zonked out and confused, but seeing friends and rehearsing with the Bach Society kept me awake and semi alert. On the plane I spent most of the time reading David Mitchel’s “Cloud Atlas” – a crazy novel from 2004 set in six different historical and future epochs and that the story of six completely different characters. While approaching New York, I was reading the two parts of the novel set in dystopic future earths, which never fails to make me depressed, but I looked down and saw big houses, wide highways, and yellow school buses crawling along beneath me, and I suddenly felt better. Big, crazy America – awesome! After I arrived I promptly took the public bus to Newark Penn Station and then the PATH train into the city (I recommend this highly cost effective means of getting from Newark to Manhattan). There are two things that struck me immediately. 1 – New York is so diverse! I had forgotten how many different kinds of people there are in America, especially New York City. After the mostly white and occasionally Indian or Arab population of Scotland, America’s diversity was suddenly extremely vivid. 2 – New York is so gray! While it was a beautiful, sunny weekend in the city, I realized how used I have become happily used to the verdant coloUrs of the UK. In Edinburgh, my flat sits on the edge of a bright green golf course, while the hunter and brown hulk of Arthurs Seat and the Crags lumbers up above the surrounding landscape. New York is so concrete – I am sure I will miss the foliage of Edinburgh when I return. The weekend itself was quite enjoyable – I saw all the usual Columbia suspects, and spent a night in Mark’s room and two nights over in Plimpton with Laura Mericle, who kindly donated her air mattress to my cause. My parents were in town as well. At one point, during lunch my parents at Café de Soleil, I wondered for a few seconds why CNN and not the BBC was being played on the television. The reason for my return was to hear my piece “Tremors: A Report” performed by the Bach Society. The concert, on Saturday night, went very well – a few mishaps with missing orchestral parts, but other than that, the piece sounded great and it was clear that everyone involved had put in a lot of time and effort. After the concert on Saturday night, Laura, Maeve and Rachel Arky hosted a party in their suite. I had brought some classy Scotch and a bottle of Irn Bru back from Scotland for everyone to try. I spent the first half an hour trying to convince people to enjoy the “national soda of Scotland,” but by the end of night there was still plenty of Irn Bru to go around. The Scotch, meanwhile, required no extra effort on my part to be taken care of. I returned to Newark airport Sunday evening after a long trip via sketchy Newark Penn Station, and managed to clear the horrific security lines in time to catch my flight. For the past few days, I have been sleeping a lot (I think the trip tired me out), and enjoying the spring time weather, which is simply wonderful. Eventually I need to start “revising” for finals, but I feel as if my studies are all over (coming home to NYC didn’t help), and the weather is great, that reading about Wagner and music history is proving difficult.

The rain in Spain DID fall mostly on the plain!

On Saturday I got back from an amazing week in Spain. I began my voyage to Espana at Edinburgh airport (or should I say “Edimburgo” – Im not sure where the Spanish got that “m” from), where I caught the Easyjet to Madrid. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by Don Lopez. My flight arrived late, so we decided to save money and spend the entire night out in Madrid, and then check in to our hostel in the morning. I don’t necessarily recommend this plan of action. We hit up some bars in Madrid, and wandered around the city until the wee hours. Unfortunately, our hostel (staffed by a ridiculous Frenchman), wouldn’t let us check in until 1PM, so we were pretty tired by the end of it. Over the next few days we toured Madrid – the gardens, the Prado, some cathedrals, and took a day trip to the lovely but tourist infested Toledo. At night we went out to various bars in the vicinity of the hostel. To save money, we mostly ate boccadillos (crusty – bread sandwiches) and McDonalds. Madrid is a fun city, but there is something tiring about it – perhaps it is the grandiose design of the city – its broad and monumental avenues, ornate nineteenth century architecture, and wide and open parks. After the third night, we caught a bus to the remote region of Extremadura (or as I like to say, Xtremadura) in the far west of the country. The bus ride, according to Miguel, was a classic example of travel in Spain. At one point, as we traversed the rugged, empty terrain of the countryside, an angry Spaniard leapt from his seat and began speaking wildly to all the passengers. Apparently the bus hadn’t stopped at the town where he had bought a ticket to get off at, and he had decided to let everyone on the bus know about this great injustice. Miguel’s Spanish saved the day (as it would many times – I know about 3 words) when the guy accosted us and asked Miguel to read his ticket stub (to prove that the bus driver had made a mistake, and should be fired). The angry gentleman finally left, and we arrived safely in the small town of Trujillo, where we were to spend the night. Trujillo is a real gem – a picturesque village of medieval buildings that clamber up a low rocky outcrop. Our hostel was right in the center of town – the wide and gracious Plaza Mayor, the centrepiece of which is an equestrian statue of the conquistador Pizarro, a native of Trujillo. We spent the day wandering about the city, the highlights of which included the old castle, and the cathedral belltower, which afforded breathtaking views of the expansive countryside surrounding the town. I also had a very mysterious soup for lunch that day, which I believe included a cooked cow’s tongue (that I unfortunately bit into - it was bristly). The next day we caught a bus to the Extremaduran city of Merida, the former capital of Roman Spain. Merida is a bustling little regional center of some 40,000 people. The main attractions for tourists are the town’s extensive Roman ruins. After visiting the local Roman Museum, we visited a large Roman arch which had functioned as a gateway to the city in days of old, and a nicely preserved temple (which people had lived in until the mid 1970s!) The most impressive ruins were those of two Roman aqueducts, which we admired as we made our way back to the bus station. That evening we arrived in Seville – Miguel’s home base. My whole stay in Seville was quite wonderful. I was immediately impressed by Miguel’s host mother – Salud – a vivacious little lady of about 60 who had the energy of someone much younger. She was kind enough to cook for Miguel and myself while I was staying in her apartment. It was Holy Week – Semana Sanata – while I was in Seville, so the streets were packed with people. I spent my Passover watching the most Catholic celebration I have seen in my life! The first night we went out to watch the parades, in which long lines of hooded penitents walk through the narrow streets, followed by two campos – large floats (carried by about 40 extra strong men) atop which sit ornate wooden statues of Christ and the Virgin, surrounded by seas of candles and burning incense. These campos are followed by brass bands, which play very slow and solemn music as they march behind the parade. Sometimes the parade would stop, and a canto singer (a type of solo singing unique to Spain which involves a lot of vibrato and impassioned hand gestures) would sing to the hushed crowd from a balcony above the parade route. The whole affair was extremely atmospheric – I have never seen anything quite like it. We spent much of my time in Seville watching the Holy Week parades – the only disadvantage was that they often blocked main avenues in the city, making it difficult to get around. When not watching parades, Miguel and I wandered about Seville, which has an atmosphere all its own. Although Miguel protested against this comparison, I found the city to be suggestive of Africa, with its Muslim influenced architecture, wild, narrow streets, and palm – filled gardens. We also hung out with Miguel’s friends from his program, who were all most excellent. Salud’s cooking was another highlight – probably the best food I had in Spain. The irony of the trip was that when I returned to Edinburgh on Saturday, the weather was warmer that it had been a number of the days I was in Spain (and I my title indicates, there were some unexpected rainstorms)! Regardless it was a wonderful trip – I have been inspired to learn a language again (I think I will be getting back to German).