Hey everybody! How are you all enjoying Christmas? Are you spending time with your families? I have to admit, I have been feeling a bit homesick these last few days. So, I would like to give a big shout-out to my friends and family. I love you all and I miss you!

Okay, so where were we? How about we start with breakfast. Now, a traditional Spanish breakfast consists of something sweet with some coffee or tea. The same goes for Italians, so I think it must be a southern European thing; they just don't like having heavy meals first thing in the morning. In fact, other than the English, none of the European countries do.

Although they don't like heavy food in the morning, apparently the old Spanish men do like to make their coffee a little bit Scottish...

At the cafe I went to the first day, almost every table of old men had one or two bottles of liquor for their coffee. In addition, I learned that women used to not even be allowed in the cafes, because it was where the men would hang out and shoot the breeze. It seems to be a universal law that any cafe you go into will have a table of old men sitting and talking for hours on end.

Anyway, back to the breakfast at the house I was staying at. Ours was more northern European, consisting of bread, many delicious Spanish cheeses, olives, jam, yogurt, and baba ghanoush. Okay, baba ghanoush is not European, but it is a typical Middle Eastern breakfast food that consists of mashed eggplant, olive oil, optional tahini (roasted sesame butter), and garlic. It kind of looks like hummus, only darker. Sooo good.

Later that day, Karimah and went for a walk around the house and saw pomegranate, orange, lemon, fig, and almond trees. There was also another type of fruit I have never seen before that looked like a mix between yellow apples and persimmons--I think they were called Loquats.

There were many freshly-tilled fields and orchards in the area, and I noticed how rocky the soil was. Karimah guessed that the reason all of the roads are lined with short stone walls is because they had to do something with the all rocks they found in the fields. That makes sense to me. That's probably also why all of the houses are made of stones, creating a very rustic atmosphere. 

Later that day we went to San Salvador, which is the tallest mountain on the island. On top of the mountain was--you guessed it--another old monastery. My camera ran out of batteries, so I didn't get very many pictures.

That evening, Kati gave a presentation about a book her mother had written about her time as a political prisoner in Spain for ten years during the Franco regime. One day, she came home from school to find that a bomb had gone off in front of her house; her mother was in pieces, strewn across the living room. She began working as a secretary for a rebel office, and everyone who worked there was arrested. While in prison, she was sentenced to death twice, but someone protected her (she never found out who), and she was never executed.

She wrote that when she was in prison there were clearer morals than there were outside the prison. For example, there were children in that prison, and the rule was that if you they were hungry and you had food, you had to give it to them. It was very important to show solidarity and to help one another, especially since many of the other prisoners were also there for political reasons.

When she was released, she got a taxi and mentioned to the driver that she couldn't believe she was free after being a political prisoner for ten years. He said nothing to her the entire trip. She later found out from her family that everyone was afraid to associate with political prisoners, for fear they would be linked to them and also thrown in jail. Then, all of her friends and family pretended like she had never been in prison. Whenever she spoke of it they seemed completely uninterested, even though those ten years were incredibly important to her life.

The proceeds of the book go to mothers who have children in jail. Unfortunately, it is only available in Spanish and German--hopefully it will be translated to English soon. I went ahead and bought a German edition for myself and a Spanish edition for any friends who speak Spanish.

This story is important because this same exact situation is happening in countries such as Morocco, Syria, and (when Ghadafi was in power) Lybia. In fact, after Ghadafi was defeated there was a rush to find all of his underground prisons that only he knew about, so that the people could be fed.

After the presentation we had dinner and then our meeting. Once again, I was asked to sing something at the end. So, the only thing that came to a mind was a song I sang while in Fort Hays Singers: a slower, more jazzy version of "I Will" by the Beatles. So, I can now honestly say that I sang the Beatles at a Sufi Muslim meeting.

And then we had a Middle Eastern dance party.

I have one final thing to tell you about before I end this post: RyanAir. RyanAir is a discount airline for Europe; however, they make alot of their money by charging extraordinary prices for anything additional. For example, you have to print your ticket beforehand or else it costs 60 euros to print it at the desk. Stuff like that. Well, their flight attendants are also sales people--they walk down the isles trying to give out magazines, sell food, drinks, perfume, and even scratch-ticket games. I found it funny and sad at the same time. Oh! And I got to s

Anyway! Merry Christmas to everyone!

Rachel

Sunday we went sight-seeing in Portocolom and several monasteries perched on mountains. Each slideshow in this post is a different place we went to.

Portocolom is rumored to be the birthplace of Christopher Columbus, thus the name. Port has a small bay that features sandy beaches and sailboats, but on the other side of the bay are sheer cliffs.

After leaving the cliffs, we went to the bay.

We picked up Cati (KAH-tee), a christian lady, at a church/former monastery in the mountains. We were given permission to look around after she asked the priest for us.

Then went to a museum that used to be a monastery and grammar school.

And I'm not exactly sure what this place was or how old it was, but it was cool. I'm thinking it was originally just a church because I didn't see any living places (but they might have been there). It might have once been different though, because it looked fairly newly remodeled.

After we got back to the house we had a wonderful Moroccan dinner made by Monica, who lives on the island. Apparently, in Morocco it is customary to eat the meat in a dish last. So, she served us the couscous and vegetables first, effectively filling our stomachs, and then served us seconds with meat, overfilling us. I taught everyone a new phrase, which they loved: food-baby. The running joke of the weekend was how many babies we were planning on having. I'm pretty sure I was expecting triplets every time Monica cooked for us. She is a very good cook.

Monica and I got to talking and she invited me to visit her in Morocco in March! That works out perfectly for me because that is my break between semesters. Her family lives there and she wants to go to some of the important sites in the area.

After we digested a bit we had our meeting. Everyone got dressed up in traditional muslim gear (I'll show you pictures in the next post) that they had bought in Middle Eastern countries. Some of them were very simple, some very elaborate.

We held almost all of our meeting in the evening, when it was dark, so we lit a candle and sat around it. I was asked to start the meeting by singing something. I searched my head and came up with "Once Upon Another Time" by Sara Bareilles. It fit well and set a wonderful mood for the night.

Each person in the circle had the opportunity to contribute something. Olivia read a beautiful arabic poem (I'm assuming it was originally Arabic) and translated it into English for me, and Monika and Yasin sang a Sufi chants with drums.

Overall, a very cool day. I have one more post on Spain, and then I will try to get a post up about the Christmas market before the 25th.

Tchüss!

Rachel

I was in Mallorca (also spelled Majorca) this weekend. I had to leave my dorm at 1 am to catch my 6:30 am flight. Needless to say I did not get much sleep Friday night. Apparently, the Düsseldorf Weeze RyanAir Airport is not actually in Düsseldorf; it is an hour away, so I had to take a bus at 3:30 am to get there from Düssseldorf. I will definitely keep this in mind next time.

Anyway, I arrived and Olivia's mom, Coletta, picked me up from the airport. We went to her house before going to the Vinca where we stayed for the remainder of the trip. She lives in an old remodeled house in the country that has palm trees, chickens, two dogs, and fourteen cats.

Most of the animals had a virus that was going around, so the house was filled with the sounds of sneezing cats and the rasping of dogs attempting to breathe through their clogged nostrils. I saw a cat bathing another cat, but all it accomplished was smearing a string of mucus down its back.

Outside, it was quiet, save for roosters crowing and choirs of birds practicing their harmonies. Bright sunlight shone on grass still wet with dew, and roses bloomed even as oranges hung on small, well groomed trees. The foliage ranged from desert plants to tropical hibiscus, as if the earth could not decide what to clothe herself in.

I was surrounded by the quiet, natural atmosphere of a Kansas farm paired with the red soil and cacti of Arizona. It brought me back to my roots, which reach deep into my Grandparents' farm, where I used to sing tuneless improvised songs and wander down muddy paths. Lyrical prose ran through my head again, painting the world in vivid, colorful brushstrokes. This was the most at-home I had felt since arriving in Europe, and according to Olivia, I looked like I belonged there.

We left Coletta's house and headed to the house where she works. Coletta is a psychologist who works at a rehab center for people with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (burn out) or drug/alcohol addictions. I have to say, after staying there I am thinking of becoming an alcoholic. That place is beautiful, but still feels like a home.

Saturday evening, we all met together to meditate and chant. The chanting was very melodic and though I did not know the words, I was at least able to hum along. Then, Olivia guided the meditation by telling us where to direct our thoughts. We reflected on our journeys and on the people we had met and loved along the way. She had us listen to the room around us and then put our hands to our hearts and feel it beating. She said, "To connect with others, you have to first connect with your heart--with yourself."

I liked that thought, because it reflected what I have come to believe in the past two years. When you are unhappy with yourself, it is more difficult to be happy with others. If you constantly critcize  yourself, you will feel the need to criticize others to prove that you are worth something. Finding compassion for yourself, learning to love and accept who you are, opens room in your life to do the same for others.

We then thought of all the people who could not be with us that night and who cared about us. I started naming the people and quickly realized how long the list was. I have a large, strong social web, yet I often don't realize it.

She then told us that we need to be like Jimmy the cat (the one who was smearing mucus all over the other one) and just take every moment as it comes. He does not know what is coming, but he accepts it and is content, even when he is sleeping.

She ended the session by having everyone chant passages of the Quran together. The final chant was a list of prophets, such as Mohammad and Jesus.

After the session, some of the people stayed to pray. I decided to join them so that I could more fully immerse myself in the Sufi culture. As I prayed with them, I tried to follow all their movements, and I very much felt like an outsider. I decided that in order to truly experience what they did, I needed to feel as they did. It was like being an actress; you have to feel what your character feels. So, I tried mirroring their emotions, and I felt much more comfortable--less like an outsider. When they performed chants I would hum along and rock back forth with the beat like Yasin did.

After the prayer ended, Olivia told me that I was like Jimmy the cat, doing everything they were doing and just going with the flow. 

Our second session started with a night prayer. There are 5 prayer times each day, and that one was the last. After the prayer, we all sat in a circle around a candle, turned off the lights, and started performing traditional Sufi chants. Once again, I didn't know the words, but I was able to hum along and harmonize. Many of the chants consisted of call and response or of continually repeating phrases, so sometimes I could sing something resembling Arabic.

While singing the chants, I was reminded of when I played Capoeira music. Like the Sufi chants, it was mostly call and response with a clear leader and hand drums, which makes sense because drums are widely used in both African and Middle Eastern music.

Now, it might sound like we were basically sitting in a circle singing "Kumbaia," and for all I know, perhaps we were. I don't speak Arabic--we could have been singing about cats. But for them, it was something much deeper; it was really no different than Christians singing hymns in church. However, people get the idea that anyone who sits in a circle and sings non-western music must be some sort of hippy. The atmosphere in the room was much different than some college drum circle, though, for them it was a very spiritual experience; you could hear it in their voices and see it in their smiles.

The religion was very beautiful, all about loving yourself and others, and I see why people would want to have Sufism in their lives. It is a very calming and accepting environment. I am very grateful to have been invited to participate in their meetings, because that is not an opportunity most small-town Kansas girls get. Plus being Mallorca was pretty cool.

By the way, did you know that Cat Stevens converted to Islam? I couldn't find any recordings on the internet, but we listed to some songs of his that were in the style of Sufi chants. He also did another version of "Wild World" with no guitar, just voices and hand-drums (like Sufi music).

All right, that's it for Saturday! I'll tell you more about Spain in my next post, which will have lots of pictures!

Rachel

Everywhere you go in Germany you see signs for Currywurst; pretty much any restaurant you go to has it. Currywurst is to Germany what hamburgers are to America.

For me, I originally tried currywurst and thought, "Meh, it's alright. Nothing too special," but it definitely grows on you. So, I decided to share with you all how to make it, because it is a beloved German dish. They sell bottles of the sauce in supermarkets, but let's face it, no pre-made sauce is never as good as one made from scratch. It's so simple and the plus side to making it at home is you get to decide exactly how you want the sauce to taste.

So, here it is!

1. Heat a skillet to medium and slap on some bratwursts, turning them occasionally. These will take a long time, so don't make the sauce right away! It's best not to turn them on high heat, otherwise the insides won't cook all the way through.

American vs. European: Okay, below I have German bratwurst pictured. If I remember correctly, American bratwursts look more like huge hotdogs than raw sausages, so it probably won't taste the same. If you can get ahold of (unspiced) sausages like these, that's best, but plain old bratwurst would also be good, or Polish sausages. 

2. Heat a small saucepan on medium. Saute the onion until translucent.

Tip: Wait until the pan is hot to put the butter/oil in (especially if you are using butter); otherwise the fat breaks down too quickly.

3. Add ketchup, curry, paprika, and water. Bring the sauce to a slight boil (more of a blub) and allow the sauce to thicken. Add more curry and paprika to taste. 

If the sauce tastes like it is just ketchup with curry in it, you probably need to add some more paprika. All of the flavors should meld together really well.

American vs. European: Okay, I am sure you saw "hot ketchup" in the ingredient list and wondered what it is. To me, it tasted like ketchup that has less sugar than the usual American kind. I actually preferred it.

Here is the important part. I picked up some regular ketchup, because I knew you all would be using that, and the sauce was way too sweet. I had to increase all the other spices and it was still too sweet. So as I was writing this sentence, I came up with idea of mixing some tomato paste with the ketchup and it helped a lot!

4. Remove bratwursts from pan and let cool. Slice into rings and top with sauce. Reserve pan for potatoes (if desired).

Normally, currywurst is served with french fries. I don't have an oven to cook french fries in, so I made my own potato dish for the side.

1. Bring water to boil in a large pot.

2. Cut desired number of potatoes into 1 1/2"x 1 1/2" chunks. Boil in water until fork tender.

3. Pour olive oil in skillet from bratwurst, scraping the bottom to loosen anything stuck to the pan.

4. Saute potatoes in pan. Add salt, pepper, and paprika to taste.

5. Serve with curry wurst. To time it correctly, boil the potatoes when you start making the currywurst sauce.

Okay! there it is! I would like to thank my taste-testers Ken and Nick. I know it was such a burden for them to eat currywurst, but they were troopers.

For Americans, this is a great recipe for grilling bratwursts (I know that's during the summer, but still!), but the sauce would also be good on burgers (and you can cook those any time of the year). I hope you like it!

Rachel

That's right people. I got to eat two Thanksgiving dinners! 

On Thursday I picked up some ingredients and headed to Burcin's cute little apartment, which she has all to herself. It was extremely windy and rainy, and it turns out I was experiencing my second hurricane since being here. Hurricanes in Germany? What? Apparently the North Sea has them, and because we are only a couple hours away from the coast we experience the edges of their storms. Hamburg got hammered pretty badly, but thankfully nobody died, although the water did rise fifty centimeters. So, Burcin, I want you to know that I would walk through a hurricane to get to you! 

Burcin and I both love to cook (and the eating part is a pretty big bonus too), so it was fun sharing a kitchen with a fellow foodie. I also appreciated being able to use an oven, because my kitchen doesn't have one.

After we cooked the food I set the table and started sneaking pictures for my blog while she was still in the kitchen. Taking pictures makes me feel really self-concious, so I always try not to be obvious about it. I went back in the kitchen and Burcin asked if I would think she was crazy for taking pictures of the food. That gave me a laugh.

So we ended up having a food-photoshoot. Before every course we said, "Oh it's so pretty! We need to take pictures of it!" I have to admit it was a bit bizarre, and I felt like a total hipster--for a moment I almost felt like I am actually part of my generation. Weird. 

Isn't she cute? She wants to be a fashion journalist and is always wearing retro clothes, like those pants.

The fancy-schmancy (the German term for that is schicki-micki) spread.

Burcin made an awesome carrot soup that actually went really well with the stuffing. The soup had lots of pepper, ginger, and curry (I think. You can correct me Burcin). What do you think of her dishes? As I said, she loves vintage, which is really apparent when you see her apartment.

My stuffing. I used a baguette, so the bread was really tasty.

Fennel salad.

The main course. Burcin made rice in the Turkish style. What you do is put some oil in a skillet and brown the uncooked rice slightly before putting the water straight in the pan and letting it cook uncovered. It has a great texture and flavor and you can just keep adding water until it is the consistency you want. To reheat it you just put it back in the skillet and add a little more water.

The chicken was ohmygodgood. She marinaded it with dates, onions, and some sort of vinegar (I think) and roasted it. So moist. Then we topped it with the soup, which went really well with the rice and kept it from getting dry.

...and the pumpkin pie. This was actually what started the idea for the dinner. I was a bit nervous because I have never made pie from the actual pumpkin, but that wasn't a problem. I just popped the pumpkins in the microwave and scooped out the flesh. The real challenge was doing the crust without any measuring cups. Thankfully, I have made pie crusts before, so I knew what the dough needed to look and feel like. I have to say, I measured absolutely nothing and it turned out really, really well. 

The filling was really tasty too, although I didn't put in enough whipping cream, so it could have been fluffier. The pie ended up being really thin because of how big the pan was, but that just means there was a bigger area to cut up, resulting in more pieces of pie.

After dinner we ended up talking for quite a while. She is a very deep and insightful person, so when we get talking our conversations last a very long time. This one lasted so long that I was going to have to take a night bus home, because all the trains stop running at eleven. However, I missed my bus, and the next one wasn't until four in the morning. That definitely wasn't happening. So I ended up staying on her very comfortable couch. I had a walk of shame that morning when I slipped out of the apartment while she was still sleeping...

We both had drama class the next morning, and afterward we went back to her place so she could give me some of the left-overs (pie!!!). We ended up talking for a couple of hours and I asked her if she would be willing to do an interview for my blog. She said that she would love to, which I assume was because of my overwhelming charm.

 So, do you have any questions for her? 

She is Turkish-German and her father (who recently passed away) lived in Turkey, while her mother lives in Germany. She has very interesting insights into assimilation and cultural identity. For those of you who don't know, the situation between the Germans and the Turkish immigrants has many similarities to the Mexican-American debate. She is very good at seeing both sides of the situation and believes in having frank dialogues that directly address the problems.

Speaking of people who are passionate about dialogues, I will have the interview with Olivia in a couple of weeks (after we get back from Spain). So there is still time to submit some more questions in for her! Do it! The more you guys interact with the interviews, the more interesting they will be for you.

That's all I have. Peace out homies!