I have already had a major addiction problem in Madrid...
Most of you already know that I have a majorly addictive personality and once I get something into my head I can´t think of anything else. I know this about myself and I should have been prepared but I wasn´t.
Cookies... these little rellenas (sandwich cookie for those of you who are Spanish handicapped) of sheer bliss, chocolate creme with a pinch of perfection. I ate one the first night Vanessa returned from her journeys and she was eating them with tea in the kitchen. You know how people say LSD opened up their minds? That´s how I felt when I had these freakin cookies. Since then I have found a brand I prefer because they have the added flavor of marshmallow, although I can´t figure how or why. They are s´mores that you can eat out of a package. I don´t even like marshmallow that much but these cookies are just out of this world. You could say they consume my thoughts more than my mouth consumes them.
I have always enjoyed cookies, but never have I formed a relationship with a baked good quite like the one I had formed with these. I had to examine my addiction because it just isn´t normal to feel that passionately about cookies (and also because I am getting fat, or going to). There is always a reason behind an addiction that strong.
After some mega soul searching and self-reflection (and some more cookies) I decided that I had been using these cookies as a substitute for my friends and family back home. I was comfort eating (cookies straight from God´s oven). I stepped into this new world and I subconsciously needed something to love/want. This is my own self-diagnosis for my addiction and I think I was spot on.
I have officially given up my rellenas completely. Vanessa asked why I don´t just have 1 or 2 and I had to explain to her that I just don´t work that way. Why have 1 or 2 when you can have them all? If you can´t have any, then you can´t have any. It´s obvious to me, at least...
I instead am going to pour all my love/want into my Spanish studies because that is something I really want in my life. Cookies will come and go, but I am only going to living in Spain for a few more months ever (probably). I have made the mature, adult decision to invest my time in something more positive than something that should be relegated to a glass of milk or a child´s lunchbox.
I haven´t bought any cookies today and I´m pretty confident that I won´t (although, if there were a cookie rehab, I would admit myself (then check out again the next day) immediately). I feel great about this right now (especially because this beautiful Spanish guy who sits at the same computer every day is sitting next to me today instead!).
¡Adíos, galletas, y no vamos a reunirnos otra vez!
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
El Museo del Prado
I went to El Museo del Prado on Thursday with my art history class. This was a truly amazing experience. This museum is to Spain what the Louvre is to France. It contains works by all the great European masters and entire collections of the greatest Spanish artists before the modern period. I am in love with this place. It is located in an old mansion beside Madrid´s royal botanical gardens that has undergone several additions and reconstructions.We spent about half an hour viewing and discussing the painters of the Baroque era, such as Caravaggio, Rembrandt and Rubens. I appreciate these paintings although I don´t particularly love them all. I did especially enjoy this one to the right called "Saturno" by Rubens. It depicts the time when Saturn, fearing conquer by one of his sons, ate them all. I was just wandering along, enjoying myself in the museum, when this painting hit me full force. It´s about medium size but it depicts an old man eating a baby. This is fantastic!
After my teacher and classmates left, I stuck around for another 2 hours or so just walking through the place. They have some very famous pieces and I enjoyed seeing them. One of my favorites was another of the Baroque period called "La Piedad" by Daniele Crespi (below). You can´t really see the detail in this copy, but Mary Magdalene´s eyes are tinted red and her facial expression is tragically ghastly. She looks like she is so pained that she is about to cry tears of blood. This one caught my attention so strongly that I lost my breath and had goosebumps. I kinda wanted to cry it is that strong. In person, her face is haunting.
Right now, the Prado has a special El Greco exhibit. I was on my way to leave when I decided that I may as well check it out before it moves on February 20. We´re going back as a class but I thought since I was already there, I may as well. This was before I knew anything about El Greco or his art. I had heard of him but never seen anything by him previously. I was shocked at how much I adored his work. It is so deliciously creepy and haunting. It´s the stuff of horror movies but with a strange religious Spanish Renaissance thing going on. I stayed in his exhibit for about 45 minutes, just absolutely absorbed in the images.
He is famous for elongating the bodies of his subjects to make them appear larger than life and placing their heads in the clouds with a very low horizon. This makes them appear supernatural and ghost-like to me. I loved them. I am going back again before they leave because I was so enchanted.
My (post-2 weeks) Top 10 List
(In no particular order)
Cosas me gustan:
1) El Parque de Buen Retiro. Everything going on inside of it makes it feel like a little city within a forest within a city. Especially on Sundays like today when almost everyone in town is there with their friends, lovers, familes. It´s refreshing and lovely.
2) Public transportation... more specifically the Metro. It´s clean, efficient and I know I´m going to miss it when I go home.
3) Chocolate con churros. I had my first experience with this Madrid tradition (also known as a little slice of heaven) the other night at 4 am. The hot chocolate is like melted candy bar in a mug and the churrros are fresh and still hot. It is unreal.
4) Sticking out all the time. This is fun sometimes because there are perks. I get into places for free, I get free drinks, and just general attention. It´s fun to feel different and quirky sometimes.
5) El Museo del Prado. This museum is breathtaking. It is the most famous in Spain and has masterpieces by some of Europe´s most famous artists. I spent hours here the other day and soaked it all up.
6) The nightlife... it kicks the ass of the nightlife at home. I can´t even begin to keep up with the Spaniards, though.
7) Everything about where I live. My host-mom, Carmen, is so sweet and comforting. She always eats when she gets home from work so when I eat later she just sits with me and we chat for an hour or two. Her food is fantastic, as well. I really enjoy it. Her tortilla de patata is 10 times better than the one we made in my cooking class the other day. Her daughter, Irene, and my other roommate, Vanessa, are very amiable, too. I live in a nice place with great company.
8) Being able to understand conversations in Spanish that are going on around me. This is thrilling because it means I am learning and understanding better every day.
9) Meeting Spaniards (and people in general) randomly and chatting. Going out with friends to Spanish bars and hangouts is a great time because we usually end up sitting and chatting with Spanish kids.
10) Bread, delicious fresh bread. They eat bread with every meal. Carmen always just sets a baguette on the table and we tear chunks off as dinner rolls along. They love their bread here and I love it, too. This is one tradition I am bringing back with me.
and now...
Cosas no me gustan:
1) The first thing that springs to mind would be the constant verbal harassment. Believe me, I could do without this. I know it´s just a cultural thing and I have to keep telling myself that all the time. It would be nice to have a break from this once in a while.
2) The next ovbious thing would be how much I wish I could have my friends and family here experiencing this with me. It all seems so surreal because there is nobody here with me who can root this whole thing in my reality. I feel like I´m going to go home and this whole thing will be a dream (I know that´s the corniest thing I have ever said (probably) but that´s really how I feel). Plus, I really miss you all...
3) Loud and obnoxious drunk Americans yelling in the streets at night. This is ridiculous and juvenile. It embarrasses me when I hear these 18 year-old kids yelling in English and falling in their heels. I got into an argument with a British guy last night over this very topic. I wish these kids would just stop doing this.
4) Sticking out all the time. This belongs on both lists because it is both positive and negative. Sometimes I wish I could just hangout below the radar for a little without the taunting (see #1) and the attention. Sometimes everyone wants to just fit in.
5) The fact that everytime I tell someone I´m American all they want to talk about is George Bush. It was entertaining and a good quality Spanish challenge at first, but having to talk about him ALL THE TIME is getting old. Give me a Bush discussion-less few days and I´ll be raring to go again.
6) The $ to € exchange rate. It´s crap.
7) Soccer obsession. I can´t get into it because nothing happens. It´s fun to watch for a little but as often as these folks watch it is impossible. Not enough headbutting.
8) Not being able to understand people all the time. I knew this would be the case coming here, but that doesn´t mean that it´s fun. I discovered how nosy I am since I have been here because it kills me when I can´t understand conversations on the Metro.
9) The tiny shower in our bathroom and the 10 gal (aprox.) water heater that serves the whole apartment. I love taking scalding hot showers and I will do this every single day for a month when I get home.
10) The fact that voltage converters work on everything except flat irons. This is true for everyone I know and is just generally annoying (and confusing).
Cosas me gustan:
1) El Parque de Buen Retiro. Everything going on inside of it makes it feel like a little city within a forest within a city. Especially on Sundays like today when almost everyone in town is there with their friends, lovers, familes. It´s refreshing and lovely.
2) Public transportation... more specifically the Metro. It´s clean, efficient and I know I´m going to miss it when I go home.
3) Chocolate con churros. I had my first experience with this Madrid tradition (also known as a little slice of heaven) the other night at 4 am. The hot chocolate is like melted candy bar in a mug and the churrros are fresh and still hot. It is unreal.
4) Sticking out all the time. This is fun sometimes because there are perks. I get into places for free, I get free drinks, and just general attention. It´s fun to feel different and quirky sometimes.
5) El Museo del Prado. This museum is breathtaking. It is the most famous in Spain and has masterpieces by some of Europe´s most famous artists. I spent hours here the other day and soaked it all up.
6) The nightlife... it kicks the ass of the nightlife at home. I can´t even begin to keep up with the Spaniards, though.
7) Everything about where I live. My host-mom, Carmen, is so sweet and comforting. She always eats when she gets home from work so when I eat later she just sits with me and we chat for an hour or two. Her food is fantastic, as well. I really enjoy it. Her tortilla de patata is 10 times better than the one we made in my cooking class the other day. Her daughter, Irene, and my other roommate, Vanessa, are very amiable, too. I live in a nice place with great company.
8) Being able to understand conversations in Spanish that are going on around me. This is thrilling because it means I am learning and understanding better every day.
9) Meeting Spaniards (and people in general) randomly and chatting. Going out with friends to Spanish bars and hangouts is a great time because we usually end up sitting and chatting with Spanish kids.
10) Bread, delicious fresh bread. They eat bread with every meal. Carmen always just sets a baguette on the table and we tear chunks off as dinner rolls along. They love their bread here and I love it, too. This is one tradition I am bringing back with me.
and now...
Cosas no me gustan:
1) The first thing that springs to mind would be the constant verbal harassment. Believe me, I could do without this. I know it´s just a cultural thing and I have to keep telling myself that all the time. It would be nice to have a break from this once in a while.
2) The next ovbious thing would be how much I wish I could have my friends and family here experiencing this with me. It all seems so surreal because there is nobody here with me who can root this whole thing in my reality. I feel like I´m going to go home and this whole thing will be a dream (I know that´s the corniest thing I have ever said (probably) but that´s really how I feel). Plus, I really miss you all...
3) Loud and obnoxious drunk Americans yelling in the streets at night. This is ridiculous and juvenile. It embarrasses me when I hear these 18 year-old kids yelling in English and falling in their heels. I got into an argument with a British guy last night over this very topic. I wish these kids would just stop doing this.
4) Sticking out all the time. This belongs on both lists because it is both positive and negative. Sometimes I wish I could just hangout below the radar for a little without the taunting (see #1) and the attention. Sometimes everyone wants to just fit in.
5) The fact that everytime I tell someone I´m American all they want to talk about is George Bush. It was entertaining and a good quality Spanish challenge at first, but having to talk about him ALL THE TIME is getting old. Give me a Bush discussion-less few days and I´ll be raring to go again.
6) The $ to € exchange rate. It´s crap.
7) Soccer obsession. I can´t get into it because nothing happens. It´s fun to watch for a little but as often as these folks watch it is impossible. Not enough headbutting.
8) Not being able to understand people all the time. I knew this would be the case coming here, but that doesn´t mean that it´s fun. I discovered how nosy I am since I have been here because it kills me when I can´t understand conversations on the Metro.
9) The tiny shower in our bathroom and the 10 gal (aprox.) water heater that serves the whole apartment. I love taking scalding hot showers and I will do this every single day for a month when I get home.
10) The fact that voltage converters work on everything except flat irons. This is true for everyone I know and is just generally annoying (and confusing).
Monday, January 21, 2008
HOW COULD I FORGET?
I had a brush with celebrity last night and I completely forgot about it until my walk home through Retiro park! I can´t believe I forgot!! Ok, so I didn´t meet Justin or anything (calm down ladies and Garrett) but I did have a brush with celebrity that I thought was pretty cool. Let me tell ya about it...
I went to my pub last night to watch the Chargers game at 7. What I found when I arrived was a pub filled with rowdy soccer fans. It was La Liga finals between Real Madrid and Atlético Madrid. It´s kinda like the Superbowl for us and the 2 teams from Madrid were in it. This would be equivalent to a Raiders/49ers Superbowl. ANYWAY, I realized that I am an idiot and the game began at 9 so I had 2 hours to kill in Sol.
I walked around for about an hour. Ok, that being done I had to find something else to do. I had already eaten at home (pollo frito con verduras) and so that was not an option. I finally just went into McDonalds to purchase a 0,60€ ice cream cone. Instead of walking back out onto the street, I decided to sit down inside and wait the hour out intil I could watch my beloved Chargers. I searched for an open table and there was only 1 over by the window. I moved toward it. As I made my way to sit, these 4 really scruffy (2 obviously WASTED) guys with long, unkempt hair met me at the table and began to sit, too. I´m not really the confrontational type and I had no alcohol in me whatsoever, so I took an immediate step back from the table. One of the (not-drunk) guys looked at me and said, "take a seat, we only need 4." Since he invited me and motioned toward the seat, I sat. Then I took a closer look. They were pretty normal American looking guys, with the exception of one guy looking like Mick Jagger with long, curly hair brushing up against his pronounced cheekbones and ankle-high pointed-toed boots. Then I saw a bunch of bags and a guitar case leaning against the wall beside us. I thought, "these guys are rock stars." I was pretty close.
The non-drunk guy who invited me to sit I found out was Brian. He was talking to me as I ate my vanilla cone and his buddies ate their BigMacs or whatever. He told me they were in a band and they just got out of a show. I asked what the name of their band was. He replied that they were called Fountains of Wayne. Yes, I ate McDonalds with Fountains of Wayne... of "Stacy´s mom has got it goin on" fame. You know you´ve seen them on TV. I believed them then, but just to make sure before I wrote this I googled their picture and it was definitely them. I know they are not super big time but I thought it was pretty cool.
Brian and I chatted about the Chargers/Pats game and I told him I was meeting a bunch of my friends at Dubliners to watch it. He was really into it and got directions from me. He said he had to take his drunk friends back to the hotel and then he would see me there later. He did not see me there later because he did not come (I don´t think but it was really crowded so I don´t know for sure).
I sat with them for a total of about 20 minutes before I stood and left them to their food business. They all said good-bye and wished my boys good luck. I told them in Spanish it is buena suerte. I walked out the door and away from my brush with celebrity. The end.
I went to my pub last night to watch the Chargers game at 7. What I found when I arrived was a pub filled with rowdy soccer fans. It was La Liga finals between Real Madrid and Atlético Madrid. It´s kinda like the Superbowl for us and the 2 teams from Madrid were in it. This would be equivalent to a Raiders/49ers Superbowl. ANYWAY, I realized that I am an idiot and the game began at 9 so I had 2 hours to kill in Sol.
I walked around for about an hour. Ok, that being done I had to find something else to do. I had already eaten at home (pollo frito con verduras) and so that was not an option. I finally just went into McDonalds to purchase a 0,60€ ice cream cone. Instead of walking back out onto the street, I decided to sit down inside and wait the hour out intil I could watch my beloved Chargers. I searched for an open table and there was only 1 over by the window. I moved toward it. As I made my way to sit, these 4 really scruffy (2 obviously WASTED) guys with long, unkempt hair met me at the table and began to sit, too. I´m not really the confrontational type and I had no alcohol in me whatsoever, so I took an immediate step back from the table. One of the (not-drunk) guys looked at me and said, "take a seat, we only need 4." Since he invited me and motioned toward the seat, I sat. Then I took a closer look. They were pretty normal American looking guys, with the exception of one guy looking like Mick Jagger with long, curly hair brushing up against his pronounced cheekbones and ankle-high pointed-toed boots. Then I saw a bunch of bags and a guitar case leaning against the wall beside us. I thought, "these guys are rock stars." I was pretty close.
The non-drunk guy who invited me to sit I found out was Brian. He was talking to me as I ate my vanilla cone and his buddies ate their BigMacs or whatever. He told me they were in a band and they just got out of a show. I asked what the name of their band was. He replied that they were called Fountains of Wayne. Yes, I ate McDonalds with Fountains of Wayne... of "Stacy´s mom has got it goin on" fame. You know you´ve seen them on TV. I believed them then, but just to make sure before I wrote this I googled their picture and it was definitely them. I know they are not super big time but I thought it was pretty cool.
Brian and I chatted about the Chargers/Pats game and I told him I was meeting a bunch of my friends at Dubliners to watch it. He was really into it and got directions from me. He said he had to take his drunk friends back to the hotel and then he would see me there later. He did not see me there later because he did not come (I don´t think but it was really crowded so I don´t know for sure).
I sat with them for a total of about 20 minutes before I stood and left them to their food business. They all said good-bye and wished my boys good luck. I told them in Spanish it is buena suerte. I walked out the door and away from my brush with celebrity. The end.
Considering Spain (and swearing to hate the Pats for eternity)
My Chargers lost last night... bad.
In the AFC Championship game... worse.
To the Patriots... worst.
I was there, rockin the old school jersey and rooting on my boys. If you didn´t watch, the game was closer than I imagined it would be and ultimately I´m very proud of them for making it so far. But the Patriots? Really??? It wasn´t enough that they kicked us out of the playoffs last year during a phenomenal season? I swear right here and now I will hate the Patriots for the rest of my time here (in life, not in Spain). Damn you, Tom Brady, damn you! (This was a recurrent shout not only in the pub last night but also in my dreams nightly but with worse profanity)
So, I was sitting in class today and thinking about Spain. I was supposed to be thinking about verb tenses but after this last weekend, my mind was wandering through all the sweet activities in which I engaged. I will compile a list right now of random Spanish considerations:
1) First thought about Madrid is how clean it is. This is by far the cleanest city I have ever seen. Every night there are teams of people in their little uniforms who scrub the city down top to bottom. We pass them at night washing the streets and the sidewalks. They also employ people to go through public trash all day and pick out the recyclables. This would not be a fun job, but I give props to the city for doing this. Also, the Metro is super clean. From what everyone else says (I have yet to travel around this continent like the year-long students) this is the cleanest Metro/city they´ve seen yet.
2) There are no fast food places open all night like at home. This makes me feel kinda like I´m back in Tahoe (but only in this sense). No matter how much I enjoy some nice chicken soft tacos (but they don´t have Del Taco in the daytime, either) in the middle of the night in Reno, I don´t think this is a bad thing. This is merely an observation.
3) The power converter that my dad and I bought before I left scares the crap out of me. When I plug things into it (so far just my flat-iron and camera charger) these items buzz and don´t need to be turned on. They are just on when I plug them in, even if the switch is turned to off. This makes me very nervous. I didn´t do my hair for the first week because I was so scared. Now I just try to do it really fast and away from my face in case it explodes. I would then have no hair to straighten. I hope that does not happen.
4) Blackout blinds are the best invention I have encountered in a long time. I really can´t think of too many things I want more on a lazy afternoon lounging in my bed (besides maybe some Del Taco chicken softs).
5) I am missing TV/movies more than I had anticipated. I never realized how much TV/movies I actually watched until I arrived here and I couldn´t anymore. This makes me embarrassed/sad.
6) My host mom has made me 2 foods that I have absolutely detested my entire life (peppers and lentils) and I really liked/loved them. She is a great cook.
7) Hot Spanish guys are 10x more intimidating to talk to than hot American guys. This is because you have to talk to them in a language you don´t speak well and try and sound smart. This is hard enough for most people in their first language. Give them another and forget about it!
8) The cafeteria at my school serves beer and wine. This is also not a bad thing, merely another observation. I know this would be a horrible idea at home because I have already witnessed some boys from my class chugging cheap beer during our 15 minute break from Spanish class. I have not consumed on campus, but maybe I will shortly just to say that I did :)
9) I learned that murciélago (you know, like the Lamborghini) means bat (you know, like the nocturnal mammal) in Spanish (and presumably Italian).
10) I also learned that Gabriela and Susan´s advice not to look Spanish guys in the eye if we weren´t interested in them is completely valid. We learned this the hard way. Also don´t walk in front of/behind/near them or be in their line of vision ever. It would also be advisable to wear a burkha, too, if you wish to get through an evening without bother.
There have been many things I have thought about Spain since I landed at Barajas about a week and a half ago. These are 10 of them that I was thinking in class this morning. Maybe I´ll write more after my Metro ride when I contemplate this place some more.
In the AFC Championship game... worse.
To the Patriots... worst.
I was there, rockin the old school jersey and rooting on my boys. If you didn´t watch, the game was closer than I imagined it would be and ultimately I´m very proud of them for making it so far. But the Patriots? Really??? It wasn´t enough that they kicked us out of the playoffs last year during a phenomenal season? I swear right here and now I will hate the Patriots for the rest of my time here (in life, not in Spain). Damn you, Tom Brady, damn you! (This was a recurrent shout not only in the pub last night but also in my dreams nightly but with worse profanity)
So, I was sitting in class today and thinking about Spain. I was supposed to be thinking about verb tenses but after this last weekend, my mind was wandering through all the sweet activities in which I engaged. I will compile a list right now of random Spanish considerations:
1) First thought about Madrid is how clean it is. This is by far the cleanest city I have ever seen. Every night there are teams of people in their little uniforms who scrub the city down top to bottom. We pass them at night washing the streets and the sidewalks. They also employ people to go through public trash all day and pick out the recyclables. This would not be a fun job, but I give props to the city for doing this. Also, the Metro is super clean. From what everyone else says (I have yet to travel around this continent like the year-long students) this is the cleanest Metro/city they´ve seen yet.
2) There are no fast food places open all night like at home. This makes me feel kinda like I´m back in Tahoe (but only in this sense). No matter how much I enjoy some nice chicken soft tacos (but they don´t have Del Taco in the daytime, either) in the middle of the night in Reno, I don´t think this is a bad thing. This is merely an observation.
3) The power converter that my dad and I bought before I left scares the crap out of me. When I plug things into it (so far just my flat-iron and camera charger) these items buzz and don´t need to be turned on. They are just on when I plug them in, even if the switch is turned to off. This makes me very nervous. I didn´t do my hair for the first week because I was so scared. Now I just try to do it really fast and away from my face in case it explodes. I would then have no hair to straighten. I hope that does not happen.
4) Blackout blinds are the best invention I have encountered in a long time. I really can´t think of too many things I want more on a lazy afternoon lounging in my bed (besides maybe some Del Taco chicken softs).
5) I am missing TV/movies more than I had anticipated. I never realized how much TV/movies I actually watched until I arrived here and I couldn´t anymore. This makes me embarrassed/sad.
6) My host mom has made me 2 foods that I have absolutely detested my entire life (peppers and lentils) and I really liked/loved them. She is a great cook.
7) Hot Spanish guys are 10x more intimidating to talk to than hot American guys. This is because you have to talk to them in a language you don´t speak well and try and sound smart. This is hard enough for most people in their first language. Give them another and forget about it!
8) The cafeteria at my school serves beer and wine. This is also not a bad thing, merely another observation. I know this would be a horrible idea at home because I have already witnessed some boys from my class chugging cheap beer during our 15 minute break from Spanish class. I have not consumed on campus, but maybe I will shortly just to say that I did :)
9) I learned that murciélago (you know, like the Lamborghini) means bat (you know, like the nocturnal mammal) in Spanish (and presumably Italian).
10) I also learned that Gabriela and Susan´s advice not to look Spanish guys in the eye if we weren´t interested in them is completely valid. We learned this the hard way. Also don´t walk in front of/behind/near them or be in their line of vision ever. It would also be advisable to wear a burkha, too, if you wish to get through an evening without bother.
There have been many things I have thought about Spain since I landed at Barajas about a week and a half ago. These are 10 of them that I was thinking in class this morning. Maybe I´ll write more after my Metro ride when I contemplate this place some more.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Of coupons and drag queens (2 of my favorite things joined together as nature intended)
I had the most amazing night ever last night. We had a great time, but it wasn´t the fun level that made it the most amazing night ever (although that level was through the roof). What made it the most amazing night ever was the fact that we stayed out dancing all night and I didn´t spend a cent to fund this madness. This just does not exist at home. Let me explain...
There are people all over the place at night in the streets offering sweet deals to go into different clubs and bars. Lauren and I wandered away from the group to head to a massive Euro club (which we found out contained mostly Americans... boo...) called Joy. On our way, we were offered tons of these little coupons and we heard the name of our destination amongst the ruckus. We snatched those right up and continued merrily on.
We arrived at about 1 and had to stand in line for a bit (again, boo...) but it didn´t take too long. We were chatting anyway about this crazy Spanish kid who followed us for about 6 blocks on our traverse through Sol. Lauren´s too cool for school and just started yelling at this dude in French like a madlady (she lived in France during her childhood). I almost got to beat some ass but unfortunately he wised up and eventually left us alone. Lauren yelled at me at one point during this walking with some crazy guy behind us talking to us sesh, "Can´t you be less blond?" Whoa, whoa, whoa, this episode was way less my fault than crazy Spanish guy´s!
We finally got in this club with free admission because of this sweet coupon. The best part of the evening: they gave us more coupons for free drinks. Since Lauren had already consumed a few beers (and her daily prescription meds;) ) she gave me hers and the night began. We danced in this place for a couple hours with all sorts of different people. At one point we encountered some guys from our program and danced with them a bit.
Another cool part of the evening (this night had many): At about 2:30 (I think?) there was this explosion of silver confetti from the stories high ceiling and the stage at the front of the club opened to reveal all these dancers wearnig neon clothing (very little of it) and a huge drag queen lady singing old school disco to techno beats. This was quite a scene, let me tell ya. I was dazzled. A little later when the lady stopped singing (but nobody could stop those crazy cool dancers... they were maniacs, maniacs, right?) a handfull of people jumped up on the stage. Was I one of them? you are asking yourselves. Well, the answer is yes, I was (after a few minutes). This was not my idea, but it was definitely a good one. I got a few pictures of this and they´re pretty fantastic. I just took a little break from click-clacking away here and looked at them on my camera. I got some good ones of the dancers (one chick was wearing a neon green, backless thong leotard over leopard tights). I wish I could put them up now, but (woe is me) I cannot. I will later, for sure.
The only down side of this night was that I lost one of my earrings. This, however, was a small price to pay to the party gods.
Peace out.
Wait... mom I studied (that word was really hard for me to spell just now, weird...) my little verb flashcards all night and read our assignment in art history before we went. AND it wasn´t a school night ;)
Purple Rain by Prince is also playing in this locutorio where I´m sitting right now. That´s all.
There are people all over the place at night in the streets offering sweet deals to go into different clubs and bars. Lauren and I wandered away from the group to head to a massive Euro club (which we found out contained mostly Americans... boo...) called Joy. On our way, we were offered tons of these little coupons and we heard the name of our destination amongst the ruckus. We snatched those right up and continued merrily on.
We arrived at about 1 and had to stand in line for a bit (again, boo...) but it didn´t take too long. We were chatting anyway about this crazy Spanish kid who followed us for about 6 blocks on our traverse through Sol. Lauren´s too cool for school and just started yelling at this dude in French like a madlady (she lived in France during her childhood). I almost got to beat some ass but unfortunately he wised up and eventually left us alone. Lauren yelled at me at one point during this walking with some crazy guy behind us talking to us sesh, "Can´t you be less blond?" Whoa, whoa, whoa, this episode was way less my fault than crazy Spanish guy´s!
We finally got in this club with free admission because of this sweet coupon. The best part of the evening: they gave us more coupons for free drinks. Since Lauren had already consumed a few beers (and her daily prescription meds;) ) she gave me hers and the night began. We danced in this place for a couple hours with all sorts of different people. At one point we encountered some guys from our program and danced with them a bit.
Another cool part of the evening (this night had many): At about 2:30 (I think?) there was this explosion of silver confetti from the stories high ceiling and the stage at the front of the club opened to reveal all these dancers wearnig neon clothing (very little of it) and a huge drag queen lady singing old school disco to techno beats. This was quite a scene, let me tell ya. I was dazzled. A little later when the lady stopped singing (but nobody could stop those crazy cool dancers... they were maniacs, maniacs, right?) a handfull of people jumped up on the stage. Was I one of them? you are asking yourselves. Well, the answer is yes, I was (after a few minutes). This was not my idea, but it was definitely a good one. I got a few pictures of this and they´re pretty fantastic. I just took a little break from click-clacking away here and looked at them on my camera. I got some good ones of the dancers (one chick was wearing a neon green, backless thong leotard over leopard tights). I wish I could put them up now, but (woe is me) I cannot. I will later, for sure.
The only down side of this night was that I lost one of my earrings. This, however, was a small price to pay to the party gods.
Peace out.
Wait... mom I studied (that word was really hard for me to spell just now, weird...) my little verb flashcards all night and read our assignment in art history before we went. AND it wasn´t a school night ;)
Purple Rain by Prince is also playing in this locutorio where I´m sitting right now. That´s all.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Giantism and wishing for a mouse scuffle
Something amusing just happened to me on the Metro ride home from school...
I am a very tall girl. Most of you know this. The Spaniards are learning this right now. On my second to last train home about 10 minutes ago, there was this group of Spanish guys, probably in their 20s, who were laughing and being all rowdy nearby. When I stood to change trains at Pacífico apparently I caught their attention. One of them stood to come stand next to me and face his friends. The train was pretty much empty so this was easy to notice and they weren´t exactly being inconspicuous. They were all laughing/yelling and looking from the guy to me.
In situations like this, all I can do is laugh out of pure and uncomfortable awkwardness. I just looked at them and smiled as the guy next to me raised his hand as a gesture of signifying how tall I was. It was less than a comforting experience. It reminded me, though, of all the times my friends and I have done this same thing, although with much more discretion (I think). I almost wish I began a tally of how many times I have heard the word "alta" since I arrived but I don´t know what number comes after a trillion so it would have been ultimately impossible.
Also on that same train were these 2 Spanish punk girls with faces all pierced up and drenched with crazy. The most interesting thing, though, was that they each had white mice on top of their wild mullet/mohawks. I swear, there were live mice right there on their cabezas! They kept reaching up to pet them and I couldn´t help wishing they would shit right there in their hair and I would get to see those girls get pissed at their little, ride-along pets.
That´s all.
Oh, and I dropped my dance class today so I get to go home and siesta the shit out of this afternoon with my blackout shades drawn...
I am a very tall girl. Most of you know this. The Spaniards are learning this right now. On my second to last train home about 10 minutes ago, there was this group of Spanish guys, probably in their 20s, who were laughing and being all rowdy nearby. When I stood to change trains at Pacífico apparently I caught their attention. One of them stood to come stand next to me and face his friends. The train was pretty much empty so this was easy to notice and they weren´t exactly being inconspicuous. They were all laughing/yelling and looking from the guy to me.
In situations like this, all I can do is laugh out of pure and uncomfortable awkwardness. I just looked at them and smiled as the guy next to me raised his hand as a gesture of signifying how tall I was. It was less than a comforting experience. It reminded me, though, of all the times my friends and I have done this same thing, although with much more discretion (I think). I almost wish I began a tally of how many times I have heard the word "alta" since I arrived but I don´t know what number comes after a trillion so it would have been ultimately impossible.
Also on that same train were these 2 Spanish punk girls with faces all pierced up and drenched with crazy. The most interesting thing, though, was that they each had white mice on top of their wild mullet/mohawks. I swear, there were live mice right there on their cabezas! They kept reaching up to pet them and I couldn´t help wishing they would shit right there in their hair and I would get to see those girls get pissed at their little, ride-along pets.
That´s all.
Oh, and I dropped my dance class today so I get to go home and siesta the shit out of this afternoon with my blackout shades drawn...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
¡No es justo, mamá!
Ok, so my mom told me in an e-mail that from reading my blog one would think that all I´m doing here is partying. Well, this assumption would be wrong. It´s only about half of what I´m doing here. (Just kidding, mom.... kind of...)
I mean, that´s not fair! I´ve only been here for a week and been in school for 3 days, so technically I have been only partying/hanging out for half my time here. Now, however, I am studying my ass off to comprehend this stuff. Do any of you know how difficult it is to study art history textbooks in Spanish? I stop every few words to look something up, not because I need to know the specific word to understand what the book is trying to tell me but because I want to know every word and be able to use it later. I have been keeping a little spiral index card notebook of new Spanish words with me at all times. Even when I go into the kitchen to eat dinner or hang out with Carmen and Irene I bring my little notebook with me. There are so many words/phrases in it that my brain aches just thinking about them.
I actually just left my first cooking class and I couldn´t wash the smell of fish from my hands so now I keep smelling the Paella we made. I can´t wait to get home and make it for everyone... you are all invited to my house for Paella and Pollo con la Salsa Tomate y Pimientos, my 2 favorite dishes I´ve had here so far... yes, mother, pimientos are peppers and I absolutely loved them. Cut to your stunned face, right?
I also had my first dancing class last night. It was downtown in a legitimate dance studio off the Metro stop Manuel Becerra. There are about 8 kids in the class and it was fun but a little less so than I had anticipated. The crappy part was that we had to move really slowly for some of the kids and we only ended up learning the basic steps for the Sevillanas and the Merengue. When we left, my knees were KILLING me, so I don´t know if I´m going to stay in it. Plus, it´s at the end of my long days (Tuesday/Thursday) and it would be nice to just go home in the late afternoon instead of hauling ass downtown to get there in time after my art history class. I have to think about that...
Another decision I have made while here already: I am not taking the escalators in the Metro stations. This was easier to decide than it is to do. Sometimes, at the end of a long day at class and walking around the city, it takes all my willpower to face the 3 flights of stairs at the station Pacífico to get to the last line to my apartment. A roll of the eyes and a sigh and I begin what is a tough climb. The Spaniards who watch me think I´m crazy probably, but it´s been a good workout thus far. It does contribute to my continual, unrelenting fatigue, however, but my body will get used to it eventually. I just keep thinking the whole time about 2 things: 1) the churro I ate 2 days ago filled with caramel that I bought at a street vendor because I couldn´t resist, and 2) my ass in a bathing suit next to Lauren´s ass in a bathing suit on spring break on the beach in the south of Spain. These 2 thoughts together are enough to give me the pep to sprint up each and every set of stairs. I have even taken the stairs at my building every time I come home during the day (the lights don´t work at night for some reason which I personally think is a fire hazard). Eight flights of stairs is no easy climb with a scarf, a jacket and a backpack, let me tell ya.
I mean, that´s not fair! I´ve only been here for a week and been in school for 3 days, so technically I have been only partying/hanging out for half my time here. Now, however, I am studying my ass off to comprehend this stuff. Do any of you know how difficult it is to study art history textbooks in Spanish? I stop every few words to look something up, not because I need to know the specific word to understand what the book is trying to tell me but because I want to know every word and be able to use it later. I have been keeping a little spiral index card notebook of new Spanish words with me at all times. Even when I go into the kitchen to eat dinner or hang out with Carmen and Irene I bring my little notebook with me. There are so many words/phrases in it that my brain aches just thinking about them.
I actually just left my first cooking class and I couldn´t wash the smell of fish from my hands so now I keep smelling the Paella we made. I can´t wait to get home and make it for everyone... you are all invited to my house for Paella and Pollo con la Salsa Tomate y Pimientos, my 2 favorite dishes I´ve had here so far... yes, mother, pimientos are peppers and I absolutely loved them. Cut to your stunned face, right?
I also had my first dancing class last night. It was downtown in a legitimate dance studio off the Metro stop Manuel Becerra. There are about 8 kids in the class and it was fun but a little less so than I had anticipated. The crappy part was that we had to move really slowly for some of the kids and we only ended up learning the basic steps for the Sevillanas and the Merengue. When we left, my knees were KILLING me, so I don´t know if I´m going to stay in it. Plus, it´s at the end of my long days (Tuesday/Thursday) and it would be nice to just go home in the late afternoon instead of hauling ass downtown to get there in time after my art history class. I have to think about that...
Another decision I have made while here already: I am not taking the escalators in the Metro stations. This was easier to decide than it is to do. Sometimes, at the end of a long day at class and walking around the city, it takes all my willpower to face the 3 flights of stairs at the station Pacífico to get to the last line to my apartment. A roll of the eyes and a sigh and I begin what is a tough climb. The Spaniards who watch me think I´m crazy probably, but it´s been a good workout thus far. It does contribute to my continual, unrelenting fatigue, however, but my body will get used to it eventually. I just keep thinking the whole time about 2 things: 1) the churro I ate 2 days ago filled with caramel that I bought at a street vendor because I couldn´t resist, and 2) my ass in a bathing suit next to Lauren´s ass in a bathing suit on spring break on the beach in the south of Spain. These 2 thoughts together are enough to give me the pep to sprint up each and every set of stairs. I have even taken the stairs at my building every time I come home during the day (the lights don´t work at night for some reason which I personally think is a fire hazard). Eight flights of stairs is no easy climb with a scarf, a jacket and a backpack, let me tell ya.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
First 2 nights in Madrid and not a moment wasted...
My Lonely Planet book told me that Spain is officially the second loudest country in the world after Japan. I believed them immediately because I believe everything I read. So far Madrid has not proved or disproved this to me. I have had, however, 2 nights out that were completely different from any nights out in the states and from each other. The first night was not what I planned and the second was more than a success.
Friday night... less than 24 hours after I got into town we all planned to paint it red. We came to Madrid to be young and fun and daring and that´s what we decided our Friday night was going to be. Basically the coolest, trendiest barrio in Madrid is the gay barrio, Chueca. It is wild and crazy, has the highest rents and the most outrageous parties in the city. As soon as I read about it in my book, I knew this was the place for me. Before I even boarded my plane in Reno, I knew I was going to be spending time there.
We made our plans to meet up at midnight at the Metro station. I should have forseen trouble when I realized that I was the only one in the group without a cell phone, but I did not. I was too stoked to be going out for my first all nighter in Madrid.
I ran into problem after problem when I tried to go out later. First, my Metro stop was closed. Technically it runs until 1:30, but the gates were closed on my entrance. What I did not know was that the other entrance on the next street over was still open. Since I am now older and wiser, I know this. I began walking to the next stop, which is a transfer station and a way bigger deal than my little stop... I knew it would be open. By the time I arrived there, it was already past midnight. At this time at night, the trains are far fewer than during the daytime as well. I had to wait about 15 minutes for each train, including the 2 transfer trains on my way to Chueca. By the time I walked out of the Metro stop there, it was about 12:30 and the streets were filled with crazy Spanish kids. Another thing I discovered this night: Spanish payphones don´t accept 2€ coins. I learned this the hard way by inserting my last coin and losing it. I had to go buy another Metro ticket to get change to call my friends.
When they finally answered (after the third call), there was something wrong with the phone I was using and they couldn´t hear me. I found out later that they tried to call me back all night because they thought that was my cell number. Long story and it all boils down to this: I ended up not meeting up with my friends and being alone in the liveliest and most exciting barrio in Madrid.
My philosphy on being here, though, is no outing out of the apartment is a wasted experience. Even though the night ended up not going as planned doesn´t mean that I could not have a good time. I ended up exploring the neighborhood of and around Chueca for the next hour by myself, while all the crazy nightlife happened around me. There will be plenty more nights to meet and party with my friends here, but I don´t want to waste a single minute not experiencing the city. I ended up jumping on the last train out of Chueca at 1:35 and heading home. I was a little disappointed but not at all discouraged.
Saturday night... all my friends had a great time on Friday, but when we all met up for our scavenger hunt on Saturday morning at 10 in La Plaza Mayor they were all sporting sun glasses with huge bottles of water in tow. I, on the other hand, woke up really early and took my time getting there, walking around the entire plaze neighborhood (including Sol) before being the first one in the plaza half an hour early. Susan, Gabriela and I ended up just standing there and chatting while we waited for everyone. They all stumbled in around 10:15 complaining about how early it was. I guess my mishap night worked out for me...
We made more plans to go out that night. My friends had to take naps but I was ready and raring to go so I took another stroll around la Puerta de Toledo and the surrounding neighborhoods. I have become a big fan of exiting the Metro at an unknown stop and exploring the area around it. It was in this area that I consumed the most delicious pastry that ever crossed my lips. The entire time I was eating it, I kept thinking of how I was going to smuggle some through Heathrow (they´re pretty tough there) and back home for everyone to try. I have since discovered that the pastry was called un pastel manzana and is sold in every panedería in Spain. I have had 2 since but neither were anywhere in the same ballpark as that first one.
Anyway... I met Lauren at Sol that night and it was already a succes for me because I was with a friend and she had a phone! We met up with some more girls and some obnoxious American guys and headed for this Irish pub nearby. Now, I do not plan on hanging out in this pub the whole time I´m here or anything, but we decided we´d go to this place to watch the NFL playoffs... Green Bay was playing the Seahawks and I wanted to send Favre some good vibes. So, we began our night there.
After the game (good work GB) and 2 Long Island Iced Teas, we headed to this small club down the street. The drinks were 10€ here so I gave them a big peace out and began looking for a new place to go. We had met some Argentineans at the Irish pub and they invited us to go to this place they knew down the street. You may all think, "why did she go with them? That is the first rule of girl life, don´t go with boys you just met to a place you don´t know!" I wasn´t completely stupid, however. I was with my friends, Lauren and Toby, and these guys brought us to this underground techno club that was huge and pretty legit.
We ended up having the greatest, perfectly Euro night. We danced to the same techno song until about 7 am when we left and walked through the city back home. It was beautiful at that time in the morning and just gave us another taste of Madrid at a different point during the day. I had the greatest time and look forward to having another great Madrid night one of these days...
Friday night... less than 24 hours after I got into town we all planned to paint it red. We came to Madrid to be young and fun and daring and that´s what we decided our Friday night was going to be. Basically the coolest, trendiest barrio in Madrid is the gay barrio, Chueca. It is wild and crazy, has the highest rents and the most outrageous parties in the city. As soon as I read about it in my book, I knew this was the place for me. Before I even boarded my plane in Reno, I knew I was going to be spending time there.
We made our plans to meet up at midnight at the Metro station. I should have forseen trouble when I realized that I was the only one in the group without a cell phone, but I did not. I was too stoked to be going out for my first all nighter in Madrid.
I ran into problem after problem when I tried to go out later. First, my Metro stop was closed. Technically it runs until 1:30, but the gates were closed on my entrance. What I did not know was that the other entrance on the next street over was still open. Since I am now older and wiser, I know this. I began walking to the next stop, which is a transfer station and a way bigger deal than my little stop... I knew it would be open. By the time I arrived there, it was already past midnight. At this time at night, the trains are far fewer than during the daytime as well. I had to wait about 15 minutes for each train, including the 2 transfer trains on my way to Chueca. By the time I walked out of the Metro stop there, it was about 12:30 and the streets were filled with crazy Spanish kids. Another thing I discovered this night: Spanish payphones don´t accept 2€ coins. I learned this the hard way by inserting my last coin and losing it. I had to go buy another Metro ticket to get change to call my friends.
When they finally answered (after the third call), there was something wrong with the phone I was using and they couldn´t hear me. I found out later that they tried to call me back all night because they thought that was my cell number. Long story and it all boils down to this: I ended up not meeting up with my friends and being alone in the liveliest and most exciting barrio in Madrid.
My philosphy on being here, though, is no outing out of the apartment is a wasted experience. Even though the night ended up not going as planned doesn´t mean that I could not have a good time. I ended up exploring the neighborhood of and around Chueca for the next hour by myself, while all the crazy nightlife happened around me. There will be plenty more nights to meet and party with my friends here, but I don´t want to waste a single minute not experiencing the city. I ended up jumping on the last train out of Chueca at 1:35 and heading home. I was a little disappointed but not at all discouraged.
Saturday night... all my friends had a great time on Friday, but when we all met up for our scavenger hunt on Saturday morning at 10 in La Plaza Mayor they were all sporting sun glasses with huge bottles of water in tow. I, on the other hand, woke up really early and took my time getting there, walking around the entire plaze neighborhood (including Sol) before being the first one in the plaza half an hour early. Susan, Gabriela and I ended up just standing there and chatting while we waited for everyone. They all stumbled in around 10:15 complaining about how early it was. I guess my mishap night worked out for me...
We made more plans to go out that night. My friends had to take naps but I was ready and raring to go so I took another stroll around la Puerta de Toledo and the surrounding neighborhoods. I have become a big fan of exiting the Metro at an unknown stop and exploring the area around it. It was in this area that I consumed the most delicious pastry that ever crossed my lips. The entire time I was eating it, I kept thinking of how I was going to smuggle some through Heathrow (they´re pretty tough there) and back home for everyone to try. I have since discovered that the pastry was called un pastel manzana and is sold in every panedería in Spain. I have had 2 since but neither were anywhere in the same ballpark as that first one.
Anyway... I met Lauren at Sol that night and it was already a succes for me because I was with a friend and she had a phone! We met up with some more girls and some obnoxious American guys and headed for this Irish pub nearby. Now, I do not plan on hanging out in this pub the whole time I´m here or anything, but we decided we´d go to this place to watch the NFL playoffs... Green Bay was playing the Seahawks and I wanted to send Favre some good vibes. So, we began our night there.
After the game (good work GB) and 2 Long Island Iced Teas, we headed to this small club down the street. The drinks were 10€ here so I gave them a big peace out and began looking for a new place to go. We had met some Argentineans at the Irish pub and they invited us to go to this place they knew down the street. You may all think, "why did she go with them? That is the first rule of girl life, don´t go with boys you just met to a place you don´t know!" I wasn´t completely stupid, however. I was with my friends, Lauren and Toby, and these guys brought us to this underground techno club that was huge and pretty legit.
We ended up having the greatest, perfectly Euro night. We danced to the same techno song until about 7 am when we left and walked through the city back home. It was beautiful at that time in the morning and just gave us another taste of Madrid at a different point during the day. I had the greatest time and look forward to having another great Madrid night one of these days...
Friday, January 11, 2008
Panicking, kisses, home...
I´m ashamed to admit that I panicked a little. I am not and never have been a panicker (except when my mother makes me stay in 1 store for more than four hours). I have excuses that I can throw out, such as I hadn´t slept for more than 3 hours in 3 days and I was in a new country with all signs in different language in a huge ass airport, but the truth that I panicked a little is still there. It cannot be covered. The entire flight from London to Madrid, which consisted of about 20 people and 4 flight attendants (2 of whom were the cheeriest Brits/people I have ever met in my life) I dreaded the wheels setting down because then it was go time. I was terrified, truly and beautifully as uncomfortable as I have ever been in my 21 years. I followed a British couple off the plane and just decided to stick with them because they probably knew what they were about.
The Madrid airport is amazing. I flew into Terminal 4, which just opened this year. Everything about the building, from the huge arched, Cathedral style ceiling to the floor to ceiling glass about five floors high suggested to me that the Spaniards are an opulent people, which I have discovered so far to be both true and not true.
I went through the "Otros Países" (otros being others beside citizens of the EU) to get my passport/visa stamped. Without thinking I walked to the guy in the booth and said hello as he said hola. This is not where I panicked, although I did kinda feel like an ass. When he stamped it and gave it back, after inspecting it closely which made me nervous for God knows why, I said gracías to make up for it as he said thank you. This was interesting to me though admittedly not significant.
I almost panicked when I got to the bottom floor to catch the underground airport tranportation system to the baggage claim. Everything is in Spanish and I could barely remember how to say hello! I was multiple stories below ground with about a hundred Spaniards/foreigners and the intercom was saying something and I didn´t know what and I got a little nervous. This was like loosen the collar nervous.
Through some miracle I made it without directions into the tram and back out when it stopped. This seemed like a major accomplishment to me at the time. I took the elevators back up to find myself faced with roughly 12 baggage claim belts. This, however daunting, was not the time I panicked. The panicking came when I got my bags and then had nowhere to go.
I had been considering this at some length during the end of my flight and now it was before me. Since I was late arriving for the program and the orientation had begun the day before, I didn´t know if the group would still be at the hotel or what. Maybe panicking is a strong term for it, but I definitely could have lost it. Considering the circumstances (not having anywhere to go, the ATMs not accepting my debit card so I had no money, not being able to get change because all the shops around were closed, trying to call the directors and not being able to figure out how the phones or phone numbers worked, etc.) I really don´t feel terrible about freaking out a little.
Anyhow, I finally got some change (thanks to the personal wallet of a cute 20ish girl working at the information booth who took pity on me) and got a hold of the USAC folks. They are fantastic and this one experience was enough to show me that. Susan got on the phone with me and talked me through getting a cab and getting straight to my apartment. I was so thankful to talk to someone so calm and clear. She gave me address, directions, advice and the spot for meeting the group the next morning. I was so grateful for her that night. I took a deep breath and pushed my trolley out into the open air and climbed into a cab.
I consider this airport experience to be my very brief culture shock. I know technically it´s supposed to last longer than that but I really think that was it for me. I panicked and then I stopped. It was as simple as that. I was also very personally impressed with my Spanish. I had to talk to all sorts of people and I did... and well. I was suprised at how easy it was for me to approach a stranger sitting behind a desk labeled "Información" and ask for information in a language I don´t speak fluently. This may not make any sense, but I was proud of myself for successfully getting out of the airport and into the city. I was finally here and doing the whole Spanish thing that I´ve waited for so long to do. All in all, it felt great when I took my first full breath in a week when I sat back in the cab.
I arrived at my building(Nº 28, El Paseo Reína Cristína) and the cabbie pulled away with all my bags sitting on the sidewalk. There was a kid, he is probably about 18, smoking next to the door and watching me. I went to the buzzer and called the apartment on the 7th floor a la izquierda (to the left). Carmen answered how she always does, "Vale, vale." The kid helped me bring in my bags and was the first to ask me the question I can´t seem to escape... "You´re American, yeah?" I told him I was and he was stoked. This is not always the reaction, although more than expected. The next question he asked I have heard even more than the first... "You have a boyfriend?" I told him I didn´t and he was stoked. This is when I had another first (classic) Spanish experience. He introduced himself (Pedro) and leaned in and kissed both my cheeks. I love this, by the way, and I don´t know how I ever introduced myself to people without doing it.
We loaded my bags into the world´s smallest elevator and I went to the seventh floor where Carmen was waiting with the door open for me. I got another 2 kisses and a big hug. This was exactly what I needed even though I didn´t know it. She helped me bring in my bags to my temporary office room (my floors were being redone) and made me some hot tea. I am so lucky to have such a great host mom. A lot of the others have quirky Spanish host families, but Carmen is super laid back and comforting. She lets me come and go as I please and makes me food when I´m home and chills when I´m not. She is fantastic and I love her. She has had over 30 American students stay with her over the past 11 years so she really understands our ways even if not our language. She doesn´t speak a word of English besides hello and good-bye and the like. This works out brilliantly for me because we can speak only Spanish to each other. When I´m around her, I just point to things around the house or on the TV and ask ¿Cómo se dice este en español? This system works well and I can´t wait to learn all I can from her in the months to come.
I was so beat from travelling that I fell into my bed and never wanted to get up again.
The Madrid airport is amazing. I flew into Terminal 4, which just opened this year. Everything about the building, from the huge arched, Cathedral style ceiling to the floor to ceiling glass about five floors high suggested to me that the Spaniards are an opulent people, which I have discovered so far to be both true and not true.
I went through the "Otros Países" (otros being others beside citizens of the EU) to get my passport/visa stamped. Without thinking I walked to the guy in the booth and said hello as he said hola. This is not where I panicked, although I did kinda feel like an ass. When he stamped it and gave it back, after inspecting it closely which made me nervous for God knows why, I said gracías to make up for it as he said thank you. This was interesting to me though admittedly not significant.
I almost panicked when I got to the bottom floor to catch the underground airport tranportation system to the baggage claim. Everything is in Spanish and I could barely remember how to say hello! I was multiple stories below ground with about a hundred Spaniards/foreigners and the intercom was saying something and I didn´t know what and I got a little nervous. This was like loosen the collar nervous.
Through some miracle I made it without directions into the tram and back out when it stopped. This seemed like a major accomplishment to me at the time. I took the elevators back up to find myself faced with roughly 12 baggage claim belts. This, however daunting, was not the time I panicked. The panicking came when I got my bags and then had nowhere to go.
I had been considering this at some length during the end of my flight and now it was before me. Since I was late arriving for the program and the orientation had begun the day before, I didn´t know if the group would still be at the hotel or what. Maybe panicking is a strong term for it, but I definitely could have lost it. Considering the circumstances (not having anywhere to go, the ATMs not accepting my debit card so I had no money, not being able to get change because all the shops around were closed, trying to call the directors and not being able to figure out how the phones or phone numbers worked, etc.) I really don´t feel terrible about freaking out a little.
Anyhow, I finally got some change (thanks to the personal wallet of a cute 20ish girl working at the information booth who took pity on me) and got a hold of the USAC folks. They are fantastic and this one experience was enough to show me that. Susan got on the phone with me and talked me through getting a cab and getting straight to my apartment. I was so thankful to talk to someone so calm and clear. She gave me address, directions, advice and the spot for meeting the group the next morning. I was so grateful for her that night. I took a deep breath and pushed my trolley out into the open air and climbed into a cab.
I consider this airport experience to be my very brief culture shock. I know technically it´s supposed to last longer than that but I really think that was it for me. I panicked and then I stopped. It was as simple as that. I was also very personally impressed with my Spanish. I had to talk to all sorts of people and I did... and well. I was suprised at how easy it was for me to approach a stranger sitting behind a desk labeled "Información" and ask for information in a language I don´t speak fluently. This may not make any sense, but I was proud of myself for successfully getting out of the airport and into the city. I was finally here and doing the whole Spanish thing that I´ve waited for so long to do. All in all, it felt great when I took my first full breath in a week when I sat back in the cab.
I arrived at my building(Nº 28, El Paseo Reína Cristína) and the cabbie pulled away with all my bags sitting on the sidewalk. There was a kid, he is probably about 18, smoking next to the door and watching me. I went to the buzzer and called the apartment on the 7th floor a la izquierda (to the left). Carmen answered how she always does, "Vale, vale." The kid helped me bring in my bags and was the first to ask me the question I can´t seem to escape... "You´re American, yeah?" I told him I was and he was stoked. This is not always the reaction, although more than expected. The next question he asked I have heard even more than the first... "You have a boyfriend?" I told him I didn´t and he was stoked. This is when I had another first (classic) Spanish experience. He introduced himself (Pedro) and leaned in and kissed both my cheeks. I love this, by the way, and I don´t know how I ever introduced myself to people without doing it.
We loaded my bags into the world´s smallest elevator and I went to the seventh floor where Carmen was waiting with the door open for me. I got another 2 kisses and a big hug. This was exactly what I needed even though I didn´t know it. She helped me bring in my bags to my temporary office room (my floors were being redone) and made me some hot tea. I am so lucky to have such a great host mom. A lot of the others have quirky Spanish host families, but Carmen is super laid back and comforting. She lets me come and go as I please and makes me food when I´m home and chills when I´m not. She is fantastic and I love her. She has had over 30 American students stay with her over the past 11 years so she really understands our ways even if not our language. She doesn´t speak a word of English besides hello and good-bye and the like. This works out brilliantly for me because we can speak only Spanish to each other. When I´m around her, I just point to things around the house or on the TV and ask ¿Cómo se dice este en español? This system works well and I can´t wait to learn all I can from her in the months to come.
I was so beat from travelling that I fell into my bed and never wanted to get up again.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
The guy 2 rows behind me is snoring...
I will never begin a flight without Champaign again as long as I live. Flying without it is just dumb.
Our plane is just about to pass over the western coast of Newfoundland. I know this because there´s a little screen showing a map with a plane on it larger than many of the European countries on the map. I believe this is the actual size of the plane because I am inside it and it is HUGE. Of course it´s not the largest plane in existence, but only in a very large plane could I lay completely horizontally in a frickin bed. I couldn´t touch anyone around me if I tried. I may sound dazzled by my experience so far in first class and that´s because I am. Way to go, mom and dad, A+ for you guys.
...set my computer down for a little...
The little screen just told me that we have 4 hours and 6 minutes until we land in London. It also has been telling us the updated time wherever we currently are (right now in the middle of the land blob labeled Newfoundland) and I have been changing my watch each time... yeah, yuo could say I´m excited (and a little nerdy).
Before I began writing this I watched a movie on my private screen in my cubby. It was a pretty quality chick flick called "The Jane Austen Book Club." Perfect example of the genre: cute puns without much clever dialogue but with a supporting cast of handsome dudes (one Brit, although not Hugh Grant), an older woman/younger (hotter) man relationship, and a middle aged lady with a hot, young, lesbian daughter. I wanted to watch "Into the Wild" or "Across the Universe" but they are only in the catalogue and not in the actual menu selection. Piece of crap airplane.
Everyone else around me is sleeping but I think that would be kind of a waste of this situation I have going on here. Free Champaign served to me in my bed? Yeah, right, like I´d sleep through this! Don´t worry, mom and dad, I´m keeping it together ;) Remember, I´m a mature 21 year-old.
Oh, another time change. We are now over the Labrador Sea and heading out to the Atlantic. MAybe I´ll watch another movie, maybe a quality picture with more significant dialogue adn realistic human interaction than the last. Perhaps "Live Free or Die Hard" or "Transformers" (for the twentieth time).
I think I would enjoy this flight just that much more if the guy 2 rows behind me weren´t snoring...
Our plane is just about to pass over the western coast of Newfoundland. I know this because there´s a little screen showing a map with a plane on it larger than many of the European countries on the map. I believe this is the actual size of the plane because I am inside it and it is HUGE. Of course it´s not the largest plane in existence, but only in a very large plane could I lay completely horizontally in a frickin bed. I couldn´t touch anyone around me if I tried. I may sound dazzled by my experience so far in first class and that´s because I am. Way to go, mom and dad, A+ for you guys.
...set my computer down for a little...
The little screen just told me that we have 4 hours and 6 minutes until we land in London. It also has been telling us the updated time wherever we currently are (right now in the middle of the land blob labeled Newfoundland) and I have been changing my watch each time... yeah, yuo could say I´m excited (and a little nerdy).
Before I began writing this I watched a movie on my private screen in my cubby. It was a pretty quality chick flick called "The Jane Austen Book Club." Perfect example of the genre: cute puns without much clever dialogue but with a supporting cast of handsome dudes (one Brit, although not Hugh Grant), an older woman/younger (hotter) man relationship, and a middle aged lady with a hot, young, lesbian daughter. I wanted to watch "Into the Wild" or "Across the Universe" but they are only in the catalogue and not in the actual menu selection. Piece of crap airplane.
Everyone else around me is sleeping but I think that would be kind of a waste of this situation I have going on here. Free Champaign served to me in my bed? Yeah, right, like I´d sleep through this! Don´t worry, mom and dad, I´m keeping it together ;) Remember, I´m a mature 21 year-old.
Oh, another time change. We are now over the Labrador Sea and heading out to the Atlantic. MAybe I´ll watch another movie, maybe a quality picture with more significant dialogue adn realistic human interaction than the last. Perhaps "Live Free or Die Hard" or "Transformers" (for the twentieth time).
I think I would enjoy this flight just that much more if the guy 2 rows behind me weren´t snoring...
I´m going to Chicago, I´m going to Chicago...
I´m on the plane bound for Chicago. An interesting occurrence about which I may have been overly excited: I was listening to some Zeppelin (forgive another reference) and randomly "When the Levee Breaks" came on and Robert Plant was wailing "I´m going to Chicago" repeatedly. I think this is a sign that Robert Plant supports my decision to study in Madrid. I mean, I could be reading this wrong, but I´ve always felt a pretty strong connection to him, so I think I may be right...
Only about an hour and a half into the plane ride and I have officially decided that my new favorite food (and in the top five of my favorite things ever) is warm cashews... WOW! I will never eat a room temperature cashew again! Also, I discovered that altitude and alcohol make an interesting combination. I took one sip of my fine chardonnay and I was drunk. It was as simple as that. One sip... drunk. It was incredible. The one thing I was disappointed about during our in flight meal was the cheese. Stupid cheese. Come on, American Airlines, if you´re going to serve me brie, make it real brie and not processed imitation brie. We´re classy up in here and we need some real brie at thirty-five thousand feet. Get it together.
Oh, wait, they just gave me a face-sized, warm, home-made chocolate chip cookie. American Airlines, I apologize for the brie comments. The entire situation is forgiven. Let´s start over. Now, I just need another glass of wine...
The movie they´re showing on the flight is called "Into the Arctic" and is a documentary about guess where. It´s basically Planet Earth, the poles episode, with about half the quality. I watched it for about half an hour and gave up... I´d rather just listen to Zeppelin. Outside the window it looks like we´re flying over the scenes on the screen; we´re flying over Utah or somewhere and the landscape is beautifully wintery. It makes me think of Tahoe. From this high up, the land looks like it has the wrinkles of a ninety year-old (or 5 1/2 billion year-old or whatever). Every now and again we fly over a big factory with colossal smokestacks in the middle of wintery nowhere. It´s sad that I can turn around and see the billows of smoke a long time after I can´t see the factory anymore.
Hey, wait again! The flight attendant just gave me the extra warm cookie and winked. Sweet. That´s what you get when you´re nice to people who get shit from everyone else all day. As my father always says (and as he told me only 2 days ago at the bank in Tahoe City), you get more flies with honey than with manure. I was never quite sold on this expression (because I think flies enjoy both honey and manure), but I get what you mean, dad. I am loving the headphones, by the way. We chose well.
I realize I´m really not saying anything important so I´m going to stop... the end.
p.s. Rachael and Nate, thank you SO MUCH for helping me this morning! It would have been a horrible beginning to a great adventure if you hadn´t been around. I miss you already!
Only about an hour and a half into the plane ride and I have officially decided that my new favorite food (and in the top five of my favorite things ever) is warm cashews... WOW! I will never eat a room temperature cashew again! Also, I discovered that altitude and alcohol make an interesting combination. I took one sip of my fine chardonnay and I was drunk. It was as simple as that. One sip... drunk. It was incredible. The one thing I was disappointed about during our in flight meal was the cheese. Stupid cheese. Come on, American Airlines, if you´re going to serve me brie, make it real brie and not processed imitation brie. We´re classy up in here and we need some real brie at thirty-five thousand feet. Get it together.
Oh, wait, they just gave me a face-sized, warm, home-made chocolate chip cookie. American Airlines, I apologize for the brie comments. The entire situation is forgiven. Let´s start over. Now, I just need another glass of wine...
The movie they´re showing on the flight is called "Into the Arctic" and is a documentary about guess where. It´s basically Planet Earth, the poles episode, with about half the quality. I watched it for about half an hour and gave up... I´d rather just listen to Zeppelin. Outside the window it looks like we´re flying over the scenes on the screen; we´re flying over Utah or somewhere and the landscape is beautifully wintery. It makes me think of Tahoe. From this high up, the land looks like it has the wrinkles of a ninety year-old (or 5 1/2 billion year-old or whatever). Every now and again we fly over a big factory with colossal smokestacks in the middle of wintery nowhere. It´s sad that I can turn around and see the billows of smoke a long time after I can´t see the factory anymore.
Hey, wait again! The flight attendant just gave me the extra warm cookie and winked. Sweet. That´s what you get when you´re nice to people who get shit from everyone else all day. As my father always says (and as he told me only 2 days ago at the bank in Tahoe City), you get more flies with honey than with manure. I was never quite sold on this expression (because I think flies enjoy both honey and manure), but I get what you mean, dad. I am loving the headphones, by the way. We chose well.
I realize I´m really not saying anything important so I´m going to stop... the end.
p.s. Rachael and Nate, thank you SO MUCH for helping me this morning! It would have been a horrible beginning to a great adventure if you hadn´t been around. I miss you already!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
And Now Madrid... really...
Passport status: located (and in my hands right now)
Packing status: complete
Flight in an hour status: all systems go
Studying in Madrid beginning Monday status: terrifying
I am sitting at the window in the Reno airport. This is it. I have been in this airport so many times it almost seems like I'm just on my casual way to Boise or Utah or the like. Almost. There's this sick/excited feeling somewhere in me that won't let me forget where I will end up in about twenty hours (hopefully). As I type this, I am listening to "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin. It seemed appropriate for where I am at this moment of my life (sort of). I'm all about the main meaning of the song, rambling and being at a point where I can't leave roots, but without the Lord of the Rings references. I never met a girl in Mordor so Gollum obviously couldn't steal her away from me. Other than that though...
I do feel like I forgot to pack everything, but I actually may have packed everything. I guess I'll know in a few days/weeks. I know there are things I forgot to do; my chipped black nail polish being the one that's inexplicably nagging at me right now. I guess I never would have felt completely prepared for this trip, no matter how many times I went through my drawers or repainted my nails. That just comes with the territory of traveling.
I just left my parents and sister at the security check. "See you in six months," my dad said to me as I turned to walk away. I was disappointed in myself, like my good-byes/I love yous/thank yous were insufficient and there was something better to say. It didn't come to me, though. Family, if you're reading this, I really do appreciate all the work you put in so that I could sit here and type about going to Spain. I wouldn't have ended up here, actually doing this, if you hadn't helped me every step of the way.
And now, I leave.
So, peace out, United States. I'll think of you often as I ride the metro home at seven a.m. and eat dinner at midnight.
Packing status: complete
Flight in an hour status: all systems go
Studying in Madrid beginning Monday status: terrifying
I am sitting at the window in the Reno airport. This is it. I have been in this airport so many times it almost seems like I'm just on my casual way to Boise or Utah or the like. Almost. There's this sick/excited feeling somewhere in me that won't let me forget where I will end up in about twenty hours (hopefully). As I type this, I am listening to "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin. It seemed appropriate for where I am at this moment of my life (sort of). I'm all about the main meaning of the song, rambling and being at a point where I can't leave roots, but without the Lord of the Rings references. I never met a girl in Mordor so Gollum obviously couldn't steal her away from me. Other than that though...
I do feel like I forgot to pack everything, but I actually may have packed everything. I guess I'll know in a few days/weeks. I know there are things I forgot to do; my chipped black nail polish being the one that's inexplicably nagging at me right now. I guess I never would have felt completely prepared for this trip, no matter how many times I went through my drawers or repainted my nails. That just comes with the territory of traveling.
I just left my parents and sister at the security check. "See you in six months," my dad said to me as I turned to walk away. I was disappointed in myself, like my good-byes/I love yous/thank yous were insufficient and there was something better to say. It didn't come to me, though. Family, if you're reading this, I really do appreciate all the work you put in so that I could sit here and type about going to Spain. I wouldn't have ended up here, actually doing this, if you hadn't helped me every step of the way.
And now, I leave.
So, peace out, United States. I'll think of you often as I ride the metro home at seven a.m. and eat dinner at midnight.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
And now Madrid... maybe...
This morning I was optimistic; I awoke with only five days until the wheels below me left the ground here and touched down in Spain. Although mind numbingly behind in my packing, I was still on the happy side of the emotional spectrum. Now, at 10:30 pm, I would place myself between nervous and pretty upset; my passport is definitely somewhere, I mean, it exists, it just exists somewhere else other than with me where it is really needed.
It seems the United States Postal Service has some serious problem with me going to Spain on Monday. I thought we were tight, the USPS and I; we have a friendly history of sending and receiving things by mail. Now we are in a pretty major fight and I don't know if we'll reconcile for a while. They could definitely make it up to me if they locate it, in whatever random city in which it ended up, and get it to me before my flight on Wednesday. I'm kind of banking on the fact that wherever it did end up (after the good folks at the Reno distribution center sent it there), someone will pick it up and decide that they should probably say something about it being in completely the wrong place. I know I haven't even boarded a plane yet, but already this experience has shown me how wide the world is for one person (or envelope) to exist in it.
This nonsense aside, I know I will end up in Madrid (eventually). I am going to miss the beginning of orientation, though, which upsets me a little because I feel like they're going to tell me pretty vital stuff, like, something that will save my life one day or something. I couldn't give an example because I DON'T KNOW! That's why I should be there because then I would find out. So, I'll just have to read my new Lonely Planet Spain book like a fiend on the flight and pretend I know something about where I'm going and what I'm doing.
So, now I have six and a half days until my flight leaves and my optimism is waning; it still exists, it justs exists somewhere other than where I need, kinda' like my passport.
It seems the United States Postal Service has some serious problem with me going to Spain on Monday. I thought we were tight, the USPS and I; we have a friendly history of sending and receiving things by mail. Now we are in a pretty major fight and I don't know if we'll reconcile for a while. They could definitely make it up to me if they locate it, in whatever random city in which it ended up, and get it to me before my flight on Wednesday. I'm kind of banking on the fact that wherever it did end up (after the good folks at the Reno distribution center sent it there), someone will pick it up and decide that they should probably say something about it being in completely the wrong place. I know I haven't even boarded a plane yet, but already this experience has shown me how wide the world is for one person (or envelope) to exist in it.
This nonsense aside, I know I will end up in Madrid (eventually). I am going to miss the beginning of orientation, though, which upsets me a little because I feel like they're going to tell me pretty vital stuff, like, something that will save my life one day or something. I couldn't give an example because I DON'T KNOW! That's why I should be there because then I would find out. So, I'll just have to read my new Lonely Planet Spain book like a fiend on the flight and pretend I know something about where I'm going and what I'm doing.
So, now I have six and a half days until my flight leaves and my optimism is waning; it still exists, it justs exists somewhere other than where I need, kinda' like my passport.
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