Quinoa Doppelkeks

My new favorite snack

Seeing as I'm on a tight budget, many of my lunches have consisted of mandarinas and my new favorite snack, Quinoa Doppelkeks, a quinoa-based chocolate cookie sandwich that I found in this random organic market in the Plaça Espanya. Yum. Probably not that healthy, but eating organic and eco-friendly foods always make me feel better.

Since it's midterm/finals season, and I've watched all the most recent episodes of Pretty Little Liars, I've had to find other methods of procrastination. I'm at the point in my life where I can trick myself into believing in my own productivity if I find something substantial to do, which as of late, has been looking into internships for the summer.

There are a variety of teaching programs for college students, but the one that I'd really like to do is the most sought-after internship of its kind in the nation (of course it is, sigh) — and it scares the poop out of me (figuratively!).

Here we go again, a set of "tell me about yourself" personal statements in which we must produce the perfect set of 500 words that will accurately represent our personalities, philosophies, dreams, and struggles, all to be filed into a grueling three-month-long process, passed through several sets of hands across several states, and finally culminate in rejection — or the scarier alternative... acceptance.

I'm not making this too dramatic, am I? I threw myself so willingly into the college name-game in high school that I'm hesitant to want something this badly again. So much for grace under pressure.

We got spirit, yes we do -- we've got spirit, ¿y tú?

The school system here is different. Very, very different. Today Genevieve came to class with me to talk about tennis and the sports culture in America. One very big difference between our schools in the States and the schools in Spain is the array of extracurriculars offered. Here, some students play sports recreationally, some play music, some dance -- but hardly any of them do these activities with their classmates. For them, school is a building with classrooms. For us, school becomes our second home. As Genevieve and I began to explain why sports and other extracurriculars are so prevalent in American high schools, I began to realize how fortunate I have been to experience such a strong community base at such a young age.

Aaaand cue shameless bragging rights: my high school had more school spirit than any other high school I've encountered. Period. Even at leadership conferences, which by their very nature are filled with high schoolers trying to PROVE that their school has more spirit than others, our school has always been the loudest, the brightest, the most madly in love with this incredibly abstract concept of "school spirit" that we've inhaled since the first day of freshman year. At my school, we bled green and gold. We rallied, screamed, played pranks on rival schools, marched through the streets, all in the name of our fierce mascot leader - Otis, the Scot.

That's mah BOY!

Needless to say, we also won MaxPreps "Most Spirited School in the Nation" award in 2008.

You get the picture. We were spirited. We may not have had the best sports teams, or the highest grades, but man, could we get a crowd going. To this day, even having been to the big name sports games, I have never experienced anything like walking through the hallways during Homecoming Week, each student wired and sleep-deprived, anxious for Friday's big assembly. If you don't know what I'm talking about, watch the video.

Working in a high school here feels so odd. The hallway walls are bare, despite being a public school without uniforms I have yet to see any sports team clothing, any club sweatshirts, any sign of students belonging to a group that does something they love. I realized how much I miss it, and how important it is to have a vibrant community life beyond academics for students, especially at that age.

I write about this, by the way, beyond the perspective of a cheerleader; for the most part, honestly, it was through my other experiences in high school that I experienced this really diverse sense of community. In high school, working with the clubs that I did allowed me to see something very, very rare for teenagers; well, for people in general: people coming together -- being excited together -- despite their interests, backgrounds, preconceptions of the other. I know, could there be any more cheese in that statement? All jokes aside, I can't begin to describe how cool it was to see our class projects come together -- we had the class all-stars work on the skit, and the artistic kids work on the backdrop, other kids just came to help put the set together, and everyone did their part just belting their hearts out for the class songs. It was truly magnificent, how well we all just meshed, even when some of us could barely stand to be in the same room as the others.

Being on sports teams and being involved in clubs, and really experiencing school spirit teaches us to work beyond ourselves. Running with a team -- really running, together -- teaches us that our actions are hopelessly interlaced with those of the people around us. We are taught through school spirit that "man is not an island," that ideas really can bring people together, even something as intangible and transient as high school spirit. We are taught that when fighting for the same cause, when bleeding the same blood, our time, our effort, and our lives play irreplaceable roles in the world. We, in some ways, are taught to believe in magic.

And if not through love, we still shared a common ground with people who didn't want to cheer for our high school: we absolutely hated our rival school. :)

One girl asked, "How did you have time to do that many sports and do your homework?" I answered, "You're asking the wrong person... I didn't sleep in high school."

On that note, I'm off to my literature class, the one that sparked my last post. Despite feeling under the weather, I am determined to stay awake and attentive. Wish me luck.

On Food, in Valencia

From For Whom the Bell Tolls:


"We ate in pavilions on the sand. Pastries made of cooked and shredded fish and red and green peppers and small nuts like grains of rice. Pastries delicate and flaky and the fish of a richness that was incredible. Prawns fresh from the sea sprinkled with lime juice. They were pink and sweet and there were four bites to a prawn. Of those we ate many. Then we ate paella with fresh sea food, clams in their shells, mussels, crayfish, and small eels. Then we ate even smaller eels alone cooked in oil and as tiny as bean sprouts and curled in all directions and so tender they disappeared in the mouth without chewing. All the time drinking a white wine, cold, light, and good at thirty centimos the bottle. And for an end, melon. That is the home of the melon...

The melon of Castile is for self abuse. The melon of Valencia for eating. When I think of those melons long as one's arm, green like the sea and crisp and juicy to cut and sweeter than the early morning in summer. Aye, when I think of those smallest eels, tiny, delicate and in mounds on the plate. Also the beer in pitchers all through the afternoon, the beer sweating in its coldness in pitchers the size of water jugs."

Mmmm.

- Hemingway