March 2005 Archives

Picture this. It is 8 pm and you are driving down the coast of spain towards San Sebastian, with the sole purpose driving to the top of a very large hill before the sun sets. This large hill is called Monte Igueldo and you are suprised to find that on top of it sits a small, dilapidated amusement park called the Parque de Atracciones. As you have some time before the sun goes down, you wander around a bit. In addition to some bumper cars, a row of games, and an entirely un-fun looking fun house, you discover a section called Camas Elasticas. Trampolines!! A row of trampolines, in a caged off area, on the side of this mountain. You consult with your friend, and after deciding to pay the 1.5 euros, you both enter into this cage along with a rather chubby 10 year old boy. And then you jump on the trampoline, at dusk, in this old, washed-up amusement park in Spain, and as you are jumping up and down, you have the most amazing view of the ocean and the bay and one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

And then you break one of the springs. And then you strain your shoulder. And then you realize that you are starting to get old because you have just strained your shoulder while jumping on a trampoline. And then you realize that it doesn't matter. And then you go watch the sunset over the ocean.

The extended Semana Semanta celebration has ended and I am back in the pathology department in Pamplona, trying to involve myself somewhat in what is going on here. My relationship with all the pathologists and residents here has taken its natural course: everyone's inicial enthusiasm and curiosity at having a foreign visitor has worn off, so people go much less out of their way to talk to me. Everyone is still totally nice to me, but most of those 'what is it like over there?' questions have already been asked, and casual conversations are a bit difficult, and I find that I am too self-consious to pester people with poorly worded comments about how I bought a pair of shoes yesterday, but I have to buy men's shoes over here because nothing else fits.

That said, I bought a pair of shoes yesterday! I had to buy men's shoes because nothing on the women's side of the store comes anywhere close to fitting me (aaaah, the curse of a size 12 foot, it seems, is particularly strong in europe). But I got these awesome green and yellow sleek modern casual-type shoes. For only about $25. Score.

Now, for a quick recap of the past few days:

- Friday (viernes santo= good friday) - Did that whole 14th century castle thing, which was pretty neat. I think that was officially my first castle. My main thought when wandering through the high-arched rooms and climbing the winding turrets was 'everyone must have been so cold back then'.

From there, a quick drive west brought me to el Monasterio de Leyre, a monastery built between the 9th and 12th centuries in the foothills of a small mountain range.

It was such an incredible feeling to be standing in the subterranean crypts and know that they were built almost a thousand years ago. A thousand years! I don't think I actually understand what that means. An entire millenium. And there I was, leaning up against the same cold stone pillar that someone carved in some unfathomable past. And monks still live there! 25 Gregorian monks live there in sequestration and devote their lives to prayer. Prayer and making honey. And, fortunately for me, chanting. So last friday night, after witnessing a lightning storm creep across the valley of the Rio Aragon, I entered into a 12th century church and witnessed a vespers ceremony of Gregorian chants. It was really beautiful. This kind of floating, pure song. But it was very different from what i imagined it would be - it was brighter, lighter than the echoing, otherworldly chants that had somehow gotten into my head. But great. Great.

-Saturday - Drove up this valley and climbed up into the pyrennes to do a little hike in an 'old world' forest. El Bosque de Irati.

Unfortunately, it didn't really look like this because everything was still pretty brown from winter. Oh well. Also went for a very rapid walk at dusk through a very beautiful gorge (el Foz de Lumbier) through which many condors were circling. Its funny when a place of such stunning natural beauty exists in the guidebook as merely a sidenote. On Saturday night my friend Jessica arrived and I took her directly from the bus station to the old part of town for pinchos y vino. I think i gave her a very appropriate welcome.

-Sunday - rain and blisters and one of Hemmingway's favorite bars.

-Monday - hike, drive to the coast, and sunset on a hill overlooking San Sebastian and the ocean.

My, what a busy week. Unfortunately, for a big part of it, my camera wasn't working.

but I haven't seen it yet because we stopped at the first open internet cafe we have seen in days. A lot shuts down during holy week, and today is Good Friday or Viernes Santo, which is a huge deal in spain.

Yesterday my dad and I took a drive around La Rioja, the most famous wine-producing region of spain. Really quite stunning, with field upon field of black, gnarled vine stubs against a backdrop of hug towering mountain peaks. We went to an extremely over-hyped Museum of Wine, and then found ourselves looking for a place to eat dinner. We ended up in this small town called Haro, and by coincidence we arrived just before their huge easter procession was about to start.

I don't know if you've ever seen images of Easter processions in spain, but its quite a spectale. Large statues of christ or the virgin or various scenes from the bible are slowly carried through town by men that are cloaked and masked and look eerily like KKK klansmen. There are groups of processioners playing the drums, groups of trumpets playing slow, melancholy marches, and they wind slowly through the streets. It was so amazing. So intense. So somber. There is NOTHING like it in the US.

ANd then we had a dinner at this restaurant that was further downt the parade route, so in the middle of dinner the drums started echoing in the distance and the whole procession passed right by us. So we got to see it twice! I got out on the balcony with several of the restaruant employees and watched from above.

ANd now I have to go find that castle.

The director of the pathology department at the University of Navarra has just told me that it is absolutely necessary that I try Spanish ham. In fact, if I don't, he has threatened to send me to a psychiatrist. When I told him that I was a vegetarian he responded with a haughty laugh as if to say, 'And you call that an excuse?' He is actually the second person today to tell me that i need to try el Jamon Iberico, as it is apparently the best thing that is possibly imaginable in the entire universe.

I don't know. I might have to try it. Not eating this special cured ham is definitely a lot of effort here, as it is included in virtually every dish. The also have ham-flavored potato chips. If there was liquid ham, the Spanish would drink it every morning.

But then again, i feel weird enough about having decided to eat fish for this trip, so maybe i will leave my little plump-snouted friends alone.

The good thing about traveling with your father is the following: he might rent a car and you can drive throughout the countryside and see things you never would have seen. Well, perhaps that's not the ONLY good thing, but is certainly one of the major perks.

With our lovely diesel rental car, here is what we did this past weekend...

Saturday. San Sebastian. Jewel of a coastal city located at an hour's drive (and an hour and a half's parking) from Pamplona.

It was a warm, beautiful day, which was spent walking around the old part of town, walking up the mountain with the castle ruins for a view of the city, walking in the ocean, and walking around the old part of town again trying to decide on a place for lunch. There was considerable dispute between Mr. Garlich and I about how much to adhere to the guidebook when chosing a lunch spot. We were surrounded by restaurants and tapas bars which supposedly offer some of the best food in spain, and we couldn´t decide which one to go to! What a rough life I´m leading. While wandering around in the process of deciding we came to a street much like this one

except that it was full of people. Full. And they were all singing songs in Euskera (Basque). Beuatiful, forlorn songs full of pride and triumph and tragedy (though I couldn't understand the words) - it gave me chills. There were many signs up that day, making me think it was day devoted to the Basque independence movement.

A sunset drive along the coast. Getting extremely lost on the way back. Having a beer to settle the nerves before driving back to home sweet Pamplona.

Sunday. Slept in til 11:00! How is this possible?? They have these window covers that roll down on the outside of the building and obscure any evidence of the sun. Plus I am very lazy. Then we made use again of the blessed rental car to go for a drive in the countryside to the north of pamplona, winding in and out of the western edge of the Pyrennes. We spent most of our time in the small villages in the Valle del Baztan, which is one of the most beautiful places on earth, i have decided.

Rolling green hills and steep peaks within which are nestled these quaint, ancient, white-washed villages. Throw in your stone cathedral spire, your cemetary on a hill, your flock of grazing long-haired sheep, and your small corner bar next to a rippling stream, and you have a recipe for one awesome afternoon. Interestingly, this country is predominantly Basque. So while everyone still can speak spanish, you go into a bar and every single thing, from the menus to the posters to the handball game on tv, is in Euskera. Handball is THE sport in Basque territory- the national sport, as a matter of fact, as they lay claim to inventing it. In one tiny town, where we sat and sipped cider while deciding what to do for dinner - that eternal question - i saw a group of people bring their beers across the street to the town handball court.

We also went to these lovely caves just south of the french border, outside of this tiny, quaint, whitewashed mountain town (yawn, right?) called Zagurramurdi. From there a trecherous but stunning drive through the hills, a semi-fruitful search for a collection of Basque cider houses (they were all closed), and a stressful trip home which involved getting lost again. Quite a weekend, which leaves me with only one question. Why am I not living here?

Last night I went out in Pamplona for the first time. For some reason i hadn´t before, even though i had been here for a couple of nights. Going out alone is a little scary for me, not in a safety way, but in an 'oh my god what will i order and what will i do while i am standing there at the bar alone' kind of way. It jsut happened that i waited long enough for my dad, who is visiting me in pamplona for a couple weeks, to arrive. And last night we went out.

We walked to El Centro, or el Casco Antiguo, which is in essense just the old part of town. The part that was built like 600 years ago and where they do the annual running of the bulls. You know... narrow cobblestone streets, ornate stone architecture, the occasional magnificent cathedral... the whole deal. It was so beautiful! We sat in la Plaza del Castillo for a while.

(someone else´s photo)

Then we headed to nearby Calle San Nicolas for tapas. Or as they say in the north of spain, 'pinchos.' La calle San Nicolas is one of the aforementioned narrow cobblestone streets whose distinguishing feature is a whole row of restaurants and bars where you can get pinchos. Here is a picture of the street that was not taken by me and that has nothing to do with me eating tapas.

(Soundtrack update: Right now the music that is constantly being piped in throughout the entire hospital consists of the following: a light jazz version of George Michael´s 'I'm never going to dance again.' The scene has officially been set.)

So my dad and I had a bunch of pinchos and bunch of wine at a bunch of different bars. We started walking home down the street when we passed a different bar that appeared to be full of people with musical instruments. ON noticing us looking in, a lady came out and told us that we could come in. Which we did. Inside of this small bar were 3 saxaphone players, 1 trombone, 1 trombone, 1 tuba, and 1 snare drum, along with a couple of friends and a drunk old man. And us. They were playing old-fashioned songs, some WWII era english songs, and some traditional spanish ones. Sometimes they would just break in to spontaneous singing with maybe a snare accompaniment. A couple started dancing at one point. I asked if this was a regular thing that they did, and they said it was just some spontaneous thing that they decided to do that night. And I was fortunate enough to witness it.

They kept trying to tell me that we should go celebrate St. Patrick´s Day at an Irish pub down the street, but I was pretty content to be there.

(now playing is a light jazz version of ABBA's 'Fernando.')

That means 'cool!' in spanish.

So far, my trip to Pamplona has proved to be quite awesome. ¡Fenomenal! as the spanish say. My flight was fine. The apartment that I rented from the US, and that required me to wire transfer a gigantic sum of money to a complete stranger in a foreign country, is really really nice. It has a great view of the city, it has ornate glass chandeliers over the dining room table and beds, and it is not in the suburbs as I originally thought (i thought i was going to be living in the beaverton of pamplona).

The weather has been great, everyone has been really nice to me, and my spanish is coming back! Slowly but surely. I have even found myself incorporating a bit of the spanish lisp, saying things like `grathias´ and ´thapatos.´ But i´m trying to stay true to my latinamerican language roots and not go too overboard.

Interesting things so far:
- The chain of supermarkets called Super BM
- The easy listening music that is constantly piped throughout the hospital and labs. They are currently playing a muzak version of ´groovy kind of love.´
- The teal-colored scrubs i am currently wearing that look more like capris pants on me
- The aged-cheese-flavored Lays potato chips that i had for dinner last night
- The fact that in the evening, the streets and parks are filled with people. Walking, strolling, shopping, sitting on benches, making out on benches, making out on the ground. So awesome! Everyone is outside. There is a shared public community space that is really utilized here. Its a refreshing change from the US.

More updates to come! I hope everyone is well.

I'm sitting at my gate, waiting for my row to be called onto the plane, where I will sit for 10 hours before getting off in Frankfurt. Then I will get on another plane and sit for another couple hours and then get off in Madrid, Spain. Then I will switch airlines and get on another plane which will take me to Pamplona.

FIrst class passengers.... now boarding.

I'm going to Spain! I'm doing a month-long elective rotation at the Pathology Department at the University of Navarra in Pamplona. I didn't blog about it much (aka at all) because a lot of my recent free time has been spent frantically preparing for this 5 week trip, in addition to hosting my mom and step dad and attending Cory and Stacie's awesome wedding yesterday.

Rows 3 and 4... aren't they doing it backwards?

Anyway, I got my swedish fish and my girly fashion magazine and my Angels and Demons book by Dan Brown (of the Da Vinci Code fame). I am completely indulging.

All passengers in all rows!!!! Bye. I'll update when I can.

I just found out that one of the autopsy assitants used to be a professional roller derby star. Back in the 70's. Roller derby! That's the sport where scantily clad women roller skate around in some sort of roller dome and try to pass eachother or run eachother into the rails or something. The only memories I have regarding this fine sport are vague images of violent rollerskating scenes from early 80's-era movies. But somehow these scenes were meant to take place in the future, which highlights one of my favorite things about the early 80's: back then people thought about what the world would be like after a nuclear holocaust. And apparently the world would have been filled with roaming bands of spandex-clad rollerskating gangs, who battle it out in the post-apocalyptic/virtual computer landscape. Why was everyone so convinced that a recreational activity that had gained immense popularity in 1982 would still be an integral part of people's lives 100 years in the future? WE HAVE DISCOVERED THE FUTURE OF SPORTS AND RECREATION AND IT IS ROLLER SKATING. IT CAN NOT GET ANY MORE ADVANCED THAN THIS.

Apparently, roller derby was a very challenging and brutal sport where women were constantly tackling eachother to the ground at 30 miles an hour. Debra threw out some deep roller derby slang that unfortunately I can't remember. She also explained to me that in roller derby, much like in professional wrestling, there were characters and ongoing plotlines and heros and villains. People would go to roller derby events just to see their favorite roller hero skate. Debra played a villain. She said she was constantly taking falls to make the heroes look good. Roller derby!

A lot of people have been dying of drug overdoses lately. And by lately I mean the past few days. Since last thursday we have probably had 8 people come in to the ME's office after ODing on something, and that's not counting overdoses of prescription medication. Mostly heroin, some crack (saw my first crack pipe last thursday). It was kind of weirding people out - what is everyone doing out there?

There's a couple theories. One is that at the beginning of each month, people get their welfare checks. And instead of buying groceries, some folks go out and by a whole bunch of dope. Then they just go crazy and take too much. This especially pertains to the more recreational user who is not out stealing on the streets to get their next fix (I am so hip to the lingo). If they aren't used to having it everyday they might overestimate their tolerance and simply do too much. And with a big pile sitting there, those that want to get a little higher can easily indulge. So apparently there is a little jump in drug overdose cases at the beginning of each month.

This theory, however, doesn't explain why there are so many drug-related deaths this month in comparison to last month. My theory is that people are starting to get their tax refunds back. Then they suddenly have hundreds of dollars at their disposal and, again, they get a little overindulgent. Mike thinks that people who are using drugs are not the kind of people to be so organized as to file their taxes early, if at all. Good point. But I think there would be some people who would be very aware that they can get a lot of money, and hence a lot of drugs, just by filling out some paperwork. Who knows.

Anyway its kind of weird. Lots of young people. These autopsies aren't that interesting because there's usually nothing going on anatomically. Its all in the tox report, which I never get to see anyway. It makes me think of the guy I knew who OD'd a couple years ago. I'm sure he was right there on that table too.