Portugal pt.5

The idea that our journey will soon be over is starting to cloud the thoughts of our exchange group.  What will it be like having to leave all these new friends?  Can we see each other again in the future?  How has our emotional maturity been affected and what will that mean for not only the new relationships we have formed but old friends waiting for us in the States?  To deal with these feelings we learned how ancient peoples handled similar situations of fear and unbelonging, violence and bloodshed.  Seems reasonable.  Day number eight and our group goes to Merida to study a Roman Colosseum.  Sometimes POW's who were stuck in a country not their own, other times the poor who just wanted to be accepted by their community, and usually animals, that had no idea what the hell was going on.  But talking about emotions and acceptance is for 21st century pussies.  If someone did not accept you in the first century you killed them in the face. 

Not pictured: Prime first date location for first century girlfriend

We were led into the holding cells where gladiators would have to wait and listen to the crowd cheer and boo while friends fought to the death.  Then we were led to the main ring where warriors would try and take down lions with little more than modern day kitchen ware.  Sometimes the ring was flooded and filled with crocodiles so that the fighters could enjoy a nice boat ride before stabbing one another in the loins.  Some people were amazed and disgusted that one of the most civilized cultures of the past was so violent, I was not.  There has been only been one change between then and now, special effects and video games.  Those who argue that video games cause violence have not studied history or playground behavior.  Watch almost any group of five year old boys none of whom have every seen an action film or shot a zombie, they will be playing something along the lines of imitate violence, until someone gets hurt, then it turns into tears, or real violence.  Then they go to high school and learn to smash each others' heads around with rules, this time calling it sports, I'm looking at you MMA.  What about the more sensitive people, those with problems that could not be solved by gore, the people who wanted the subtleties of their emotions explored, women.  Where could they go to deal with the difficult life questions?  To the theater of course, where when someone dies it is usually supposed to be sad, because they have a back story and a family and other stupid human traits like that. 

There's a pillow fight backstage

The structure was steep and designed specifically for bouncing one's voice all over the place so even a normal conversation could be heard all around.  In order to demonstrate a pair of Rotary students were selected to perform on stage while the main group sat in the nosebleed section.  Unfortunately the demonstration was to be singing and not screaming obscenities so, once again, my talent went undiscovered.  Fortunately the acoustics were amazing and the pair of voices were heard perfectly all through the stands.  Moments like that make me wish I wasn't so tone deaf that someone could beat to death with a tuning fork and I would never hit an actual note, but the songs were pretty anyways.  We then explored some other old Roman architecture, but in all honesty it is tough to top the image of gladiators getting eaten by exotic beasts while hearing opera belted in the background.  We end the day by taking a relaxing and reflexive walk around the city.
Waking on the final day was a strange feeling, the guide leading us around Salamanca really had no chance to get our attention.  Yes, the city was beautiful, and yes, we bought some souvenirs, but it was all over-shadowed by the fact that it was merely a stop on our way back to Madrid and going home.  That evening we gave our Rotary chaperons and bus driver gifts that we had picked up along the way.  Cards, with all of our names, and a fine bottle of wine for each one.  When we surrounded their dinner table with the wine bottles I believe the chaperons were confused and worried, for all they knew we were planning to get wasted right in front of them and tear up the dining room in classic rock star fashion.  But when the word gifts came out the chaperons were still confused, although less worried.  I believe that they have come to accept that teenagers are about as considerate as raccoons, we'll take all you have to offer, tear up your house, and mess up your garbage, but on the nice side, we usually won't kill you.  Unless we're rabid.
The next morning we said tearful goodbyes over Starbucks and Taco Bell.  Although a fan of neither, except for the occasional frozen caramel chocolate with just a touch of coffeechino, I followed hoping to spend my last hours in Madrid with friends.  On the return to San Sebastian I had a strange moment, almost as if I, as a male, felt emotions.  Weird, I know.  Anyways, tomorrow I'm off to Italy, readers can be bombarded with another storm of travel tips that will most likely get you deported.