Cuando en España

El adios final....para ahora.

2009-05-19T22:39:00.000-07:00

Well after completely ditching my Spain blog after Cantabria and now being back home for almost 3 weeks, I have finally decided to bring my adventures in Spain to a formal end. I think I’ll start it with what I wrote in my journal the day I departed my dream world …

I’m sitting at my gate in the airport right now making a conscious effort to avoid the old red neck woman who keeps forcing conversation about how she worked in a cafeteria for 30 years and is taking her career to another level. I’m also trying really hard not to cry. This morning, the Tron woke up at 5 a.m. with Colleen and me to see us off as we boarded the Tres P for the last time. When we were waiting for the bus, she talked to us about how one cooks “arroz a la cubana” and pasta. Even though I had already secretly figured out how to cook white rice, fry an egg, and boil pasta, I didn’t want the conversation to ever end. The Tron gave Colleen a huge hug when we saw Tres P rounding the corner. It was the most precious sight I have ever seen. Tron burrowed her head into the underside of Colleen’s chest highlighting the fact that she really must be a Spanish midget robot. I ran over and joined the group hug to make a Tron sandwich. When we loaded our things onto the bus, all of us just lost it. The people already on the bus were crying and there was really no hope to keep any composure.

It still doesn’t feel real. I feel like I’m getting on this plane to go on another excursion and then will soon return back to Salamanca. I didn’t realize that over the past 4 months, Salamanca has been the place I considered to be my home. I will miss so much.

I’ll miss my awesome Spanish friends – especially edu, natalio and Cesar. I’ll miss my jolly old human-cigarette for a Spanish civ. Professor…along with the 5 easiest/most fun classes that exist in college. I’ll miss the homeless man who sings about hamburgers (even though I gave him money and all he did was flash his rotting teeth and me and walked away. I’m pretty sure he farted, too). I’ll miss sitting on the floor of the plaza with Sarah and Colleen. I’ll miss the feeling that I get when the Tron brings out arroz a la cubana for the first course of our siesta lunch. I’ll even miss the fact that every Spanish man somehow thinks that my friends and I are God’s gift to the earth even after we just shoved 15 pounds of paella down our throats.

That was when I stopped writing in my journal because I had suddenly turned into the lonely girl with a pink suitcase bawling in the airport. However, to my surprise, I ended up sitting in front of another student from Virginia Tech who was returning from a semester in Barcelona. We talked a little but I got most of my info from eavesdropping. It sounded like she felt the exact same way I did. We just couldn’t believe it was over.

Over the past three weeks, I have experienced a bit of reverse culture shock but nothing too dramatic. I accidentally say “euros” a lot rather than “dollars.” When 2:30 rolls around I sometimes find myself preparing a Thanksgiving feast. It has been weird speaking English every day opposed to Spanish; I miss it. But I do have some good news regarding that issue. I recently had an interview with NII Holdings which is Nextel International. The company has completely moved its client base from America to Latin America. It has 6.5 million clients in Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, Peru and Chile. That being said, almost everybody in the office speaks Spanish on a daily basis. I somehow landed a summer internship with them (paid, YES!) and will continue speaking Spanish on a daily basis.

A lot of people say that when they study abroad, they come back a different person. I can say that this wasn’t the case for me. I’m still the same person, but my eyes have been opened to a new world of possibilities. Spain has shaped me to see things differently and consider new options. If I hadn’t had this experience, there are so many things I would have missed out on; including life lessons. I printed out over 200 photos from Spain and will soon put them into a scrapbook of memories. I also just wrote the Tron a letter and included some photos for her as well; hopefully she and I will keep in touch over the years.

Well I guess this formally concludes my 4-month Spanish dream life. A token of advice to anybody who reads this blog: study abroad. If you have already graduated college, make it a point to take a vacation to Europe at some point in your life. It’s amazing how much you can see once you take a step back from American culture. And also, when you’re planning this European get-away, hit me up and count me in.

Cantabria: The final excursion

2009-04-22T05:28:00.000-07:00

Our final excursion with papa duck and the JMU gang was to Cantabria; the northern region of Spain. As Colleen and I joyfully trotted down the streets of Salamanca towards the Tres P with our home-made Bocadillos in hand, I thought about how incredible this whole experience has been. I started to think back to all of the hilarious things that have happened throughout our travels. From waking up in Barcelona with a bazaar allergic reaction that afforded me the opportunity to look like a bloated puffer fish, to threatening the bus driver that there WOULD be urine in his trash can if he didn’t stop soon, I remembered several incidents that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

This particular bus ride to Cantabria was pleasantly scenic. As we escalated up the mountains, I think that everybody on the bus was secretly praying to God for the bus driver to slow down so we wouldn’t fall off the road that seemed to be made for go-karts. These windy mountain roads reminded me of driving in Mexico with Dad and Elliott. Dad frequently feels the need to pass 18-wheelers on a 2-way mountain road while making a 40 degree angled turn. When he realizes that there are usually at least one or two additional 18-wheelers heading in the other direction, he either swerves back into his un-marked lane or guns his Ford Focus hoping that there is indeed a God out there. Usually at this point, Kate and I are holding hands and telling each other we have always loved one another and never meant anything by calling the other person a retard. Unfortunately, the only thing I had in my seat to comfort me on the way to Cantabria was Chelsea Handler’s book, “Are you there vodka? It’s me, Chelsea.”

After several hours of the worst palm sweat I’d experienced since being in Mexico with Dad, we arrived to the prehistoric cave of Puente Viesgo. This was one of the coolest sight-seeing activities we have done all semester. It seemed like it had barely been touched; there were hand prints and cave drawings all over the walls from thousands of years ago. Due to the plethora of water and mineral deposits that had run throughout the cave, the natural rock shapes were so unique and interesting to look at. As I walked around observing the natural history, Sarah kept pointing out rocks that she believed to be representations of fettuccini alfredo and an ice-cream sundays with a cherries on top. This is just one example of how Spain has expanded our minds to look at things from a different perspective.

After our cave visit, we ate our bocadillo feasts and headed to the mountain hotel. Our hotel was literally right smack in the middle of a chain of towering, snow capped mountains. I decided to take advantage of Mother Nature and grabbed my lumber-jack walking stick to hike up the mountains. We hiked for around two hours and took some awesome pictures, I didn’t think it could get any better until I found out the activity we would do the following day.

At around 10 am the next morning, we all piled into a gondola and headed up to the top of the mountain. We stepped out to find a beer-vending machine, and miles of gorgeous, snow capped mountains at our feet. We pranced around the mountains for a few hours. This was DEFINITELY my favorite sight-seeing activity throughout the whole semester, (besides the moment when I first laid eyes on one of the Tron’s home-made empanadas). I can’t even explain the feeling of serenity on top of this mountain; it was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

The next day we hopped on Tres P once again towards Santander. We went to a museum that was a replica of the Altamira cave that was not open to the public. I understand that this was a good replica, but because I had been spoiled the day before by seeing a REAL cave, I thought this was a pretty lame activity. Also, there were at least 20 grandparents standing in front of me during the whole tour emitting their old-people fumes straight into my face – it wasn’t the most pleasant smell in the world. That night we enjoyed our awesome 4-star hotel and went out to a local bar in Santander.

The next day would be our last and final day on our last and final excursion. We walked along the beach in 70 degree weather and saw an outside zoo. Zoo is pronounced like “thoe” in Spanish; just say it out loud like 5 times in a row, you’ll see why it’s kind of funny. Anyways, we saw penguins, seals and sea-lions. I missed Kate a lot when I laid eyes on one penguin that was awkwardly waddling around the rocks by himself after being ostracized from the rest of the penguin clan. If you know Kate, you know why she would remind somebody of a penguin. If not, just imagine a 5’5 petite woman with tiny limbs, hands and feet the size of a 7-year old. Then imagine the girl dancing off beat like she has absolutely no control over these baby-sized limbs. Hence, the reason my sister reminds me of a lonely penguin.

After that awesome day, we boarded Tres P for the last time and headed back to the ‘Manc. I suppose that on a normal day I would have been pretty sad that this was my last excursion. However, the following day was Lunes de Aguas. This day of fiesta marked the historic date when prostitutes were allowed back into the city of Salamanca after lent. That being said, the tradition was that people would picnic and drink by the river all day and welcome the prostitutes back into the city as they crossed the river. Evidently, there are no more prostitutes journeying across the river now-a-days, but according to the Tron, who doesn’t mind legal prostitutes, there are still a few slutting it up uncomfortably close to the location of our JMU office. Prostitutes or no prostitutes, nothing stops people from taking the day off and drinking 40’s and wine under the sun. Also, part of the tradition is to eat Hornazo which is basically like a meat pie/pastry. Thanks to the plethora of Spanish holidays that let us off school, our vacation from a vacation has not ended yet. Thursday is yet another Spanish holiday called Valverde. I have no idea what this holiday stands for, but I do know that I am not going to class and instead will be riding horses all day and having a picnic with all the madres – I’m not complaining.

“Spring Break” when you’re already on vacation? What?

2009-04-14T14:53:00.000-07:00

You know when you’re really really excited about something that’s about to happen, and you’re waiting for it, and you have no idea how you will react when it finally happens? Well, after what seemed like hours of pacing/dancing (literally) around the arrival gate in Madrid Airport, I accidentally greeted my family with an abundance of uncontrollable tears.

We started out in Madrid on Saturday and then took a flight to Tenerife on Tuesday. Our arrival to the grand Hotel Imperatriz in Madrid was a delight for me – as I had slept in a hostel without a bedroom door the night before. The hostel is called “Bull’s Hostel,” but I have made an executive decision to strictly refer to it now as “Bullshit Hostel.” Anyways, leaving Bullshit and seeing mom, Emmett and Isabelle was so overwhelming; I was so happy. Due to the fact that my mom and Emmett are like sight-seeing energizer bunnies, they were ready to explore Madrid in no time.

The next few days before we left for Tenerife, we went out for some great lunches and dinners. Prior to their arrival, I spent hours trying to map out the best restaurants and places to shop; clearly I had forgotten that Emmett is a human GPS and kicked my ass in every aspect of tourism knowledge. From insisting that a tiny quad under construction was the famous Plaza Mayor, to leading them through streets filled with hookers and accidentally ending up outside a brothel rather than a dessert bar, I can confidently admit that I am still the worst tour-guide on the planet.

However, thankfully, my family is very forgiving and we still had an amazing time. We spent each day walking around different parts of Madrid, taking in the culture and beauty of the city. On Sunday, we went to a huge flea-market which Madrid is famous for. Emmett wasn’t interested in buying cute earrings, bracelets and purses, but the girls had a blast.

The next morning we woke up early head to the airport. When we arrived to Tenerife, we proceeded to the Avis-Rent-a-Car desk; I couldn’t think of a way to convert “Avis” into a name like “Bullshit” for “Bull’s Hostel,” but it sure does deserve a name of that caliber. Since we carried a lot of luggage, we were hoping we’d get lucky with one of the hundreds of roomy vans or SUV’s we noticed in the parking lot. But no. Apparently an “upgrade” afforded us the opportunity to have the smallest bright-blue hatch-back known to man. Isabelle, mom and I all sat with suitcases on our laps and tennis rackets on our heads. Our upgrade also afforded us the opportunity to take a 92 Euro cab ride to the airport on the way home because the car broke in the hotel parking lot the morning of our 11am flight.

Phew – well, now that I have cleared the path for additional negative-nancy thoughts, I can talk about our perfect vacation in Tenerife. The hotel was literally a resort. It was one of those places that made it unnecessary to leave the premises to have a wonderful vacation. Throughout the week we enjoyed several bars, lounges and bands in the hotel. Also, every night from 11pm-12am, all the drinks were buy-one-get-one. Clearly, we revolved our whole night around that hour more than once.

We spent the days lounging at the pool and taking walks around the beach and shops. There are mountains and a huge volcano on the island. What gorgeous view. The sand is also a lot darker than normal; it’s almost black in certain parts because of the volcano. Also, the whole island catered to at least four languages: Spanish, English, French and German. Some restaurant menus also had Russian and Italian. I got some great practice in Madrid because I had to translate everything for my parents and speak for them, but in Tenerife they didn’t feel like they needed me to get around which was cool.

Isabelle and I spent most of the time with the parents, but six of my friends from the program were also in Tenerife so we met up with them a few times. This brings me to “Flirtz” experience: The cheesiest 70’s club that still exists today. The night-life in Tenerife is extremely touristy. If the bars aren’t playing music that was cool 40 years ago, they’re playing backstreet boys or Will Smith. Isabelle and I went out with my friends and enjoyed several cheap drinks at Flirtz. We also enjoyed the 50-year-old DJ that continually interrupted the 70’s dance-mixes with his appalling voice. Oh Flirtz. The walls were covered with bright pink flowers, peace signs, and phrases that read “shake your booty” (or something of that genre). When songs from the dirty dancing soundtrack came on, it was no surprise that all the girls immediately migrated to the dance floor. I think that Danny and Will secretly wanted to join but felt too manly to dance along with a video in which the singers were wearing leotards. Anyways, Flirtz was an experience to say the least.

The next day, my friends came to the hotel pool for the day. Unfortunately, it was overcast – this was the only day though that the weather wasn’t absolutely perfect. My mom and Emmett were delighted to meet the people that I’d been telling them about for so long. The next day was the last before our departure. We had an awesome breakfast at the hotel, and after that I finished “Catcher in the Rye.” I can’t figure out why it took me 20 years to read that book – don’t people usually read that when they’re like seven?

The flight back to Madrid felt like hours because I was secretly dreading saying good-bye to the fam. We all had such a great time (minus the stupid rent-a-car). When we parted ways it was sad, but I held in my tears this time. I then took the metro to meet up with Sarah and spend the next two days with her in Madrid.

Sarah had stayed with her mom and sister in Madrid for Spring Break. Her incredibly kind parents reserved their hotel for two extra days after they left so that Sarah and I didn’t have to stay in a hostel. Seriously, what did I do to deserve this? Anyways, the hotel was awesome and in a perfect location. Sarah and I went to Kapital on Saturday night, a 7-story club that we’ve been hearing about for months. It was a lot of fun but the men wouldn’t leave us alone. If I have learned one thing from being in Spain for three months, it’s how to get men to leave you alone. After confessing to several boys that I am gay, German, and cannot speak Spanish or English, I managed to enjoy a fun girls night with Sarah.

The next day was Easter and Sarah and I treated ourselves to an outstanding Broadway show called Carmen. It was all dancing, no speaking. The dance was flamenco. If you read my post from Granada, you know that the last time I saw flamenco I felt like I was watching constipated gargoyles for two hours; this was different. I can’t even explain how talented these people are, it was amazing.

The next day we took the metro to the bus station and headed back to Salamanca. Coming back to Escolitron and Colleen was really nice. Since I only have around two weeks left in Salamanca, I have decided that I should shed at least a few of my double-chins before I head back to the states. I told the Tron and I’m going on a diet and she acknowledged my effort to lose weight by feeding me a greasy ham & cheese sandwich last night and ½ a pizza tonight. Wish me luck, seriously.

This weekend we’re heading to the province of Cantabria for our last and final group excursion. After that, I have less than two weeks until I head back to the motherland. Spain has been an incredible experience, but I’m feeling ready to head back and see everybody and everything I’ve missed. 16 days from today!

P.s. I am posting this from the Tron's casa, for 3 months Colleen and I have eagerly tried to steel internet every day. This is a serious breakthrough.

Caution: Spanish Women Ahead

2009-04-01T07:43:00.001-07:00

Within the past 72 hours I have experienced a sufficient amount of embarrassment and anger to be frightened of Spanish women. The first account is actually rather comical, the second, not so much.

The first traumatic Spanish-woman incident happened on Sunday night when Sarah decided to come to the Tron casa for a visit. She lives close and had never seen the house; she also wanted to kick it with Escolitron, ya know maybe talk to gossip – the usual. To her unpleasant surprise, the gossip would later end up being about herself, Colleen and me. As we wrapped up the grand tour of our apartment, we ended up in the bathroom. It was at this moment when Colleen pointed to the scale and made a joke about how these days we try to stay away from any type of weighing-device. Well, the Tron, being the typical blunt Spanish woman that she is, seized this opportunity and immediately picked up the scale and demanded that we all weigh ourselves. After she plopped her 5’2 tiny self on the scale and announced that she weighs as much as a fit 6-year old, she shifted her focus to me. There was no turning back. After a pathetic attempt to deny her request, I found myself on the scale while she announced to my friends how much weight I have gained. After I got off, she moved right down the line to Colleen. When an awkward silent pause, she looked up in disbelief and said “aaaay….pesas MUCHO!” (You weight A LOT). Yes Tron, Colleen may weigh a tad bit more than you, being that she is approaching 7-feet tall. It didn’t stop there; the fact that Sarah had been in the house for less than 5 minutes did not faze the determined Escolitron. After she announced Sarah’s weight, we shamefully retreated back to Colleen’s room, heads hanging low, pondering if this could be just some normal welcoming present; “hey, welcome to my house! You have 4 chins and I want you to know EXACTLY how much they weight!”

The next episode that left me terrified of Spanish women happened last night in the bathroom of a club called Khandavia. Around 3:30 a.m, Colleen, Andrea and I found ourselves in a bathroom with 20 other girls waiting on three stalls – men have it so easy. Anyways, a lot of the girls were going into the bathrooms together so when my friend Andrea went in, I proceeded to follow her. The next thing I knew, a girl was yelling at me and grabbing my arm, literally pulling me out of the stall with Andrea. Although I didn’t understand every word, I got the gist that she was pissed because there was a line. Fine. No biggy. I surrendered and left the stall without putting up a fight. When I put myself back in line, she and a group of her friends started talking about me, waving their arms in my direction. In all honesty, they were saying pretty nasty things, one of which was “she’s so stupid she doesn’t even understand that we’re talking about her” (because they were speaking Spanish). Well, I did understand so I found the confidence to say in a shy, weak voice, “Excuse me, I can understand what you’re saying.” They only continued to make fun of me. I wanted to give it right back to them but instead, I said nothing because I was afraid of saying something like “You silly girls I wish you would just be more jolly!” due to the lack of my mean-Spanish-girl vocabulary. When I realized the yelling and rude gestures weren’t about stop any time soon, I ran out of the bathroom into the arms of Colleen and started crying like a baby. Seriously, I know it’s weird that I cried, but they were feisty, and the fact that I couldn’t say anything back was so frustrating. Anyways, I got over it soon enough. I’m sure I’ll look back on this and realize I was being ridiculously over sensitive, it’s all good though…all part of the experience.

On a lighter note my merrrrm is coming to visit in 3 DAYS with Isabelle and Emmett! I am SO excited. Megan, Sarah and I are taking a 9am bus to Madrid on Friday, staying in a hostel that night then meeting our parents on Saturday. As you know, we’re going to Tenerife on Tuesday and spending the rest of the week there. Check up on the blog sometime after next week!

El sur: Granada, Córdoba, Sevilla y Mérida

2009-03-24T05:15:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, we left Salamanca to spend 5 days in southern Spain. The weather was perfect and the sights were beautiful – ya know, just another awesome vacation with the best food and 4-star hotels, no biggy. I have to say that this was my favorite excursion thus far. All the cities we visited are in the province of Andalucía, which is totally different from northern Spain.

We left at 8:30 on Thursday morning. Remembering my traumatic experience on the way to Barcelona, I allotted myself ample time to use the restroom before I boarded the Tres Pilares. (Tres Pilares ((Three Pillars)) is the name of the bus company we use – it always smells like b.o and has no restroom, we all hate it and refer to it as tres p, p cubed, or t.p).

Tres p was uneventful, smelly, and lasted around eight hours. We arrived to our hotel in Granada around 5:30. It seems like with every excursion comes a more posh hotel. The hotel was surrounded with gorgeous gardens and a big pool area. After we unpacked, we all walked through the barrio de Albaycín (Albaycín neighborhood), the place where I would end up spending my entire food stipend on bags, dresses and presents. The barrio lead us to a stunning view of the Alhambra; a famous ancient palace. When the Muslims ruled Spain, the rulers lived in the Alhambra and later, it became the home to King Ferninand and Queen Isabela. The view was breathtaking. Behind the Alhambra are snow-topped mountains that seem to trace the edge of the sky. The sight is honestly impossible to explain. I think that part of the reason it was so awesome was because I was standing in 80 degree weather looking just past the city to see mountains completely covered in snow.

After taking in the serenity of the Alhambra, we leisurely walked around the barrio. Andalucía is characterized by a unique Arabic influence. The architecture reflects Arabic art which is really colorful and dynamic, and the Granadinos are very distinct from the people of northern Spain. Every other side street and corner in Granada is filled with people hanging out drinking 40’s and smoking hookah/hash. The fashion is shockingly similar to that of MC hammer; apparently high Granadinos think that parachute pants have come back into style. Don’t get me wrong, I fell in love with these people. I found the hippies to be very welcoming and friendly; the Tron told me that this is very typical of southern Spain. When I come back here, I am definitely taking another trip to Granada. Flamenco dance is also a huge part of southern culture which is something you would never see in places like Salamanca, Madrid or Barcelona. According to Jesús, the only thing that all of Spain has in common is mucha fiesta; a pleasant bonus for my study abroad group. Later that night we had a delicious dinner in the hotel and went out to a local bar.

The next day we did some more historical sight-seeing. My favorite part of the day was dinner at the Flamenco Show. If you’ve never seen Flamenco before, it might be worthwhile to youtube it. I ended up sitting about six inches from the stage which ended up being a bittersweet experience. Before we knew it, Sarah and I were dodging the feet of angry, fervent flamenco dancers. The style of dance incorporates an intense amount of passion. Their feet tapped wildly, their arms flung forcefully, and their faces emitted expressions of sheer fury. Because the style of dance integrates an extreme amount of physical and emotional passion, every bit of energy went to the precise body movements of the dancers. Due to the concentrated footwork, there were a handful of moments when their faces ended up producing expressions of painful constipation. Clearly, I caved in to my immaturity and had a severe laughing attack for 2-3 minutes. Other than the images of constipated gargoyle faces forever imprinted in my mind, I will only have fond memories of this experience.

After dinner, the group proceeded to take a little tour through another barrio that lead up to the Alhambra. Just as I rounded the corner to face our tour director, I was confronted by two dirty fists in front of my face flicking me off. I stared at the fists in complete shock and tried to think of everything I learned in Elementary school about self defense. My heart was pounding as I stood in front of a gang of 5-year olds with pig tails flicking me off and spitting tuna sandwiches at me. Screw MS-13, we had a pack of dangerous Spanish toddlers on our hands armed with tuna sandwiches. I tried to run away, but these niños were quick. The group walked past the gang and tried to pay attention to the director. I didn’t end up hearing one word the guide spoke because I was too busy dodging tuna bullets. I found out later that this was a notoriously bad neighborhood full of poor gypsy families – why we chose this path, I’m not sure, but we will follow our papa ducky Jesús no matter where he goes.

Thankfully, we were able to flee the danger zone and make our way up to the view to see the Alhambra at night. Again, breathtaking. After that, we made our way home taking a detour route back to the bus in order to avoid further gang activity.

The next day we left Granada early to arrive at Córdoba around 2:30. We saw la Mesquita de Córdoba (mosque) which was cool. I’m not a huge fan of touring cathedrals/mosques, especially when the weather is so nice, but the art/architecture in these Spanish cathedrals are truly out of this world. Even though I tend to drag my feet at times, listening to papa ducky talk about the history of the buildings makes it pretty interesting.

We only stayed in Cordoba for a half-day and then went to Sevilla to have a late dinner in the hotel. I rolled off the bus half-asleep and when I saw the hotel I almost thought we were touring another building. The hotel was enormous and decorated with intricate strings of lights and vines. I took a bunch of pictures of the atrium before I got to my room – I know I’m nerdy.

Sunday, we visited los Reales Alcázares which is where Christopher Columbus was first received in Spain. The stone buildings are surrounded by seemingly never-ending gorgeous gardens. I really liked this part of the trip because we were outside for most of the time. After that, the group went to Plaza de España which is definitely comparable to the Plaza Mayor in Salamanca. Later a couple of the girls and I went to a Cuban restaurant for lunch and drank the best mojitos in the world. Feeling a little buzzed and all the more adventurous, we decided to take a boat tour of Sevilla on the river. The tour was cheesy and semi-bland but it was still a perfect way to wrap up the day.

During this excursion, we did so many activities during the day that by the time night rolled around a lot of us were too beat to go out. I went to bed early and woke up Monday morning to hop on tres p to head back to the motherland. On the way back, we stopped in Mérida to see Roman ruins including an amphitheater which was really cool. Everybody kept telling me to stand in the middle of the theatre and sing; I didn’t do it…but I did take a cheesy picture with Sarah and Tori doing ballet. … Que guay?

We got back to the Tron casa around 7:30. Time seems to be flying here. Next weekend we will be here in Salamanca, and then we have Spring break, one more excursion followed by a few days of exams and back home! It’s definitely a bittersweet feeling… recently I have been thinking about all the things I’ll miss when I go back home. Surely one is being able to talk about things that you know nobody around you can understand. Another is the homeless man in Salamanca on the street that sings the same song up and down calle toro every day. I have memorized the song word-for-word: “Ayúdame para comprar una hamburguesa que tengo hambre por favor!” (Help me to buy a hamburger I am hungry, please!” It sounds kinda lame on paper but it really does have a nice little ring to it. I’m thinking that before I leave I will give him some money and then sing with him, we’ll see…cuando en España.

Our hike to Jesus

2009-03-17T10:04:00.001-07:00

Paella madness: Before and After

2009-03-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

Hostel DQ, San Sebastian

2009-03-17T09:39:00.001-07:00

This weekend Tori, Colleen, Sarah and I went to San Sebastian; a gorgeous city on the beach in northern Spain. First things first: I had a change of heart about Paella. There are absolutely no words describe this experience; the photos above can speak for themselves.

We arrived to the David Quinn Hostel at around 10:30pm on Friday. David Quinn himself, whom we now refer to as DQ, was there to greet us and offer us wine and cheese. Little did we know that this hostel would be one of the biggest de puta madre experiences we have had so far in Spain.

As you know, during our excursions we are fortunate enough to stay in posh, 4-star hotels with our program. Surprisingly, the DQ hostel kicked the 4-star hotels asses to the curb. We met a lot of really cool people: three college students from California studying in France, two Australian surfers, and one woman who was backpacking through Europe for seven months to contemplate marrying her fiancé. (If it takes 7 months, maybe it’s not meant to be?).

Saturday night, the entire DQ gang went out to tapas and clubs; it was really fun to meet new people since we spend most of our time with the group on our other excursions. Before that though, the girls and I spent all day Saturday touring the city.

San Seb is known for its beautiful beach. The weather wasn’t Caribbean weather, but it was nice enough to wear sunglasses and a T-shirt. We decided it would be a good idea to rent bikes and tour the city on wheels. First, we tried to get mopeds: this idea crashed and burned. Then, we went to the tourist office in search for more information about how to get bikes. The bike quest ended up being quite an ordeal to say the least; the man at the desk was not helpful and told us to go to places that were closed. Once we gave up after an hour and half of bicycle searching, we were cranky and hungry. After we ate about 20 pounds of paella, we concluded that hiking would make us feel better about our new-born chins.

There is a mountain right next to the beach with a huge statue of Jesus on top of it. Lots of people come to San Seb just to hike up this mountain and see the statue. The girls and I took on the challenge and hiked up to Jesus. The higher ascended, the clearer my nose felt (still can’t kick this cold), and the smaller my double chin seemed. We took dozens of pictures, but even the photos can’t convey the sheer beauty of this beach. The water is crystal blue and the sand is white.

We spent the rest of the day sitting on the beach drinking mamosas. Sunday, I woke up around 10 to find Tori slaving away in the kitchen making us all an awesome breakfast. We ate her toast/egg concoction (called a "hole-in-one") and felt brave enough to give biking another shot. Thankfully the store was open. Colleen and Sarah flew down the street dodging little kids on their 6-foot long tandem bike, Tori and I glided gracefully with our regular bikes. We biked along the whole beach and all throughout the city for an hour; making sure that we flicked off the tourist office along the way.

We made our way back to the bus without a problem and came back to Salamanca Monday night. We returned to the Tron-casa to find none other than the Tron herself patiently waiting for us, she said “Ah mis niñas están aqui!!” (My girls are here!!). Colleen and I brought her a little present from San Seb; it’s a glass elephant that costed three euros. It’s the thought that counts – she loved it.

This weekend we are headed to the province of Andalucia where we will visit Seville, Granada, and Cordoba. Since I don’t have Wednesday classes, I only have class from 10-1 on Tuesday and I’m done! Este es la vida. Hasta la semana que viene!

When nudity strikes

2009-03-08T08:10:00.001-07:00

The group spent this weekend here in Salamanca. We took a tour of the famous cathedral, went to a play, and tonight we’re going out to dinner. Within the past 24 hours, we have also experienced a descent amount of unexpected nudity. The play we went to last night was called, “Naked in Central Park.” It was just under two hours long; most of us took our siesta nap for about an hour of it, including Jesus, our study abroad director. After the snooze, most of us woke up to an old, balding man dropping his drawers on stage. As you can imagine, this wasn’t the most desirable image to have planted in front of your face after a peaceful nap. Later, we went to our favorite restaurant in all of Spain, Doner kebap. I accidentally ordered two kebap’s instead of one; if you know me at all, you know I will not waste good food when I see it. That being said, I inhaled both kebaps. I went to bed feeling pleasantly plump. When I woke up this afternoon, I walked into the living room to find the Tron’s Sunday afternoon feast waiting for me on the table. This brings me to the second account of nudity within the past 24 hours. While enjoying our Sunday afternoon ice-cream dessert, Colleen and I tried to make sense of several Spanish music videos on the t.v. We’ll usually say things like, “oh…que guapo, que guay” and bop our head around a little, you know the deal. When “Womanizer” by Britney Spears suddenly appeared on the screen, Colleen and I immediately got excited. We tried to explain to Escolitron that she is our favorite singer and every time the song comes on in the clubs, we go crazy. If you’ve seen the Womanizer video, you know that Britney is half naked with an arched-back in every other scene. To say the least, this might not have been an appropriate video to watch during lunch with our Spanish madre on the most religious day of the week. Escolitron continued to stare at the screen, eyes squinted, forehead crinkled, trying to make sense of the prostitute dancing on her t.v. during Sunday afternoon siesta. The inevitable language barrier presented problems after the song finished when we tried to explain to her what a womanizer is. We arrived at the word chulo, which means pimp in Spanish. Long story short, Escolitron now thinks that Colleen and I worship a famous prostitute that gets naked with pimps on her t.v. during Sunday afternoon lunch.

My life at the top of the niña hierarchy.

2009-03-04T08:12:00.000-08:00

The moment that Colleen and I had been so patiently waiting for finally came last night after dinner. The Tron was talking about her cousin’s wedding that will take place during the summer. Colleen made a comment about how we won’t be here and I made a joke about how the new niñas won’t be nearly as cool as Colleen and me. It was in this moment when the Tron professed her love for Colleen and me. She told us that in all sentiments, Colleen and I are the best niñas she has ever had; she said we eat well (this was the first on her list, clearly), we are talkative, we are nice, and we are good friends. She also told us that she missed us while we were in Barcelona. Later, while strolling through the streets of Salamanca; we basked in the glory of being the Tron’s fav’s and clearly, bragged about it to all of our friends as soon as possible. I thought this was definitely a blog-worthy occasion.

One of the many components of my perfect lunch from the Tron

2009-03-03T10:51:00.000-08:00

Ketchup pasta, dig in

2009-03-03T03:13:00.000-08:00

Hay que verlo para creerlo.

Los Carnavales cont’d, manatee conversations, ketchup pasta, allergic reactions, and Barcelona.

2009-03-03T01:24:00.000-08:00

The past week and a half has been absolutely fantastic. It turns out that Los Carnavales constitutes an entire week of costume-wearing and partying rather than just one weekend. Not only were the streets filled with people in costume, but the weather was gorgeous; this marks the beginning of what we like to call ice-cream season. During the day – especially during siesta – people go to the plaza to sit on the ground and eat ice cream. The costumes and the ice cream worked together to make my 30-minute walk to class quite enjoyable. Also, this week Colleen and I had several conversations of medium depth with Escolitron. We have started to talk about politics a lot; I’ve learned that she doesn’t like Italians, thinks black people are scary, and is pro-gay marriage! I’m not sure about I feel about the first two ideologies but I’m down with the third. One of our medium-depth conversations consisted of Colleen’s desperate attempt to explain what a manatee is to the Tron-bot; as you might guess, this crashed and burned. However, her attempt at the conversation suffered a long and painful death – which obviously was the highlight of my day. “Escoli, es como la vaca del mar…tu sabes..?” (“Escoli, it’s like the cow of the sea, you know?”). I tried to help her, but her inability to convey her thoughts rubbed off of me. The even funnier aspect of this conversation was that the reason Colleen was talking about a manatee in the first place was if she could be an animal, she’d want to be a manatee. Other than this little blip in our Spanish-speaking resume, we had a good week with the language.

Monday was our friend Megan’s 21st birthday. It was also my first night eating a doner kebap and later going to a club called Candavia. First: the doner kebap. Wow. Kate and Ollie have always told me one of the most important things to eat in Spain is the doner; well they know good food when they see it. A doner kebap is kind of like a gyro but the lamb meat is more tender and…I don’t know, it’s just better. You know those times when a friend insists that you try something but then when you try it, you’re just like…eh, that was okay. Well doner was all I expected it to be and more. I’m thinking of sharing the wealth with the Tron. The other “first” was going to Candavia. At around 4 a.m., a lot of the bars in Salamanca close and a bunch of night clubs open. Candavia is open from around 3 a.m., to 6-7a.m. depending on the night. It was a lot of fun because I’d never been there before and all of our friends were there for Megan’s birthday. I rolled into the house around 6:30a.m. and still managed to go all my classes the next day. I think that would be considered – cha ching, success.

The next day after class I got yelled at and got called ugly by a waiter. I guess I deserved it though. I was sitting with one foot up on the chair in front of me; I know this isn’t the most lady-like gesture, but I think in Spain it’s considered completely unacceptable. I am glad I know it now but literally, the waiter came up to me, shook his finger in my face and said “Ugh..no..no…eso es muy feo.” (That’s really ugly). And, because of the undeniable presence of gringa tendencies, I did it again on the metro in Barcelona this weekend. Again, a man shook his finger in my face and said things to me that I didn’t understand; I am assuming it was due to my bad metro-sitting-manners.

Well that brings me to the weekend in Barcelona! The group left Friday at 8:30a.m; we didn’t arrive to Barcelona until 8p.m. If you don’t know where either of the two cities are; they are basically on opposite sides of the country. I don’t mind long car/bus rides, but if you know me well, you know that my bladder is the size of a pin-head. Because my mom wasn’t there to say: “Alexandra, make sure you use the bathroom at least twice before you leave, and make sure you don’t drink anything,” I drank tons of water and didn’t use the restroom before we departed for our cross-country drive. I had to go so badly by the time it was 10a.m. that I ran up to the front of the bus to talk to my study abroad director, Jesus. I was so distracted by my need to use the restroom that I couldn’t really speak so I just kind of flailed around until he caught my drift. He offered to pull the bus over so I could pee on the side of the road, but my good judgment told me that I didn’t want 30 students, a bus driver, and Jesus to watch me squat in the grass next to the bus. I ended up waiting an hour until we got to a rest-stop. This hour was the only duration of time that I wished Colleen couldn’t make me laugh so easily. She decided to play the “would you rather” game. The most painful part of my day was when she said: “Would you rather see Professor Corbin (a professor here who reminds me of Santa Claus’s grandfather) naked, or sleep in bed with Escoli every night?” I honestly had tears in my eyes by the time we got to the rest-stop; tears of laughter and of sheer pain.

When we got to Barcelona, we changed clothes and ate dinner as a group at the hotel. We had three courses which included: Pasta with ketchup, salad, a hamburger patty with fries, and ice cream. Everything was fabulous with the exception of the ketchup pasta. I have a picture of the huge bowl of ketchup because I just think you need to see it to believe it (picture is coming soon). I was one of the daring ones to mix the two together at first. A couple other brave ones ate the mixture, too. I’m not one to complain about food much (as you know, if you have read my other blog posts), so I won’t say much…I just want you to look at the picture.

Later that night a couple of us met up with my friend Byrnes from VTech. He is studying abroad in Barcelona with a group of around 300 other students from Universities all over the States. Colleen, Will and I went with Byrnes to a bar that sat right on the beach. What an awesome view. We walked out the back of the bar to find ourselves on the sand in front of the Mediterranean.

Saturday we got up at 8:30 and had an awesome breakfast buffet at the hotel. All of the hotels we stay in for our group excursions are 4-star; the food is always spectacular. Soon after breakfast, we visited Park Güell where I took lots of pictures and spent too much money buying gifts. Gaudí created the park and in general, is very famous for his works in Barcelona. He used things that people didn’t want, essentially trash, and put them together to create gorgeous art pieces. The tile on the buildings all reflected this unique style, and so did a lot of the jewelry; hence why I spent so much money. After that we went to the Picasso Museum, the soccer stadium, and had free time to walk around and eat lunch.

That night a bunch of my friends went to a soccer game against Real Madrid (obviously Madrid won). The girls and I went out for pizza. After dinner, Colleen and I met up with Byrnes again and went to what is apparently one of the three best night-clubs in Spain; Razzmatazz. The club is 5 levels of rave music; there must have been at least 1,000 people on the bottom level alone. This club was insane, I’m so glad I got to go. The best part of the night was when I danced for like 45 minutes by myself (Byrnes and Colleen were right next to me, don’t worry mom) without a gross guy trying to touch me or talk to me. This sounds kind of anti-social, but after walking from the metro to the bars, back to the metro, etc… gross old men howling at you can really get on your nerves. This was one thing that made me miss the beautiful, perfect city of Salamanca .

The next morning I woke up and apparently had some allergic reaction to something I ate for dinner (mushrooms and pizza). My face and lips looked like balloons; my skin was hot to the touch and very swelled up. My study abroad director advised that I not go to the museum/park visits for the day and I agreed with him. I took an extra allergy pill and slept all day; when I woke up my face looked normal again. My allergies are all out of whack, it was definitely a good idea to bring my allergy medicine.

That night, Tori, Colleen and I went out to dinner near Las Romblas (basically the city center). Sarah was with her boyfriend a lot because he’s studying abroad in Barcelona; I want to meet him and give him a huge hug because he is the reason that I now have a t-shirt that says “España es de puta madre.” He got one for Sarah, and because she already knows me too well, she called me and asked me if I wanted her to buy me one. I can’t wait to show Escolitron! Anyways, that night I went to bed early and today, Monday, I am without the puffy face and with a t-shirt que es de puta madre.

Sorry that this post is all over the place; I haven’t posted anything in over a week so there is so much to say! I just remembered that I never told you all how I planned a trip to San Sebastian on March 13th. We don’t have school on the 16th, a Monday, so almost everybody has planned to travel. Sarah, Tori, Colleen and I planned a trip to San Sebastian, a city in northern Spain right on the coast. We’re staying in a hostel right on Playa de Conchas, (the beach). We have heard awesome things about San Seb; apparently it’s really tropical, has awesome restaurants (obviously an important factor), and a lively night-life. I’m really excited about this trip, after lots of research I was able to find the bus tickets/hostel for cheap prices.

Well, that’s it for now. Wish me luck finding a summer internship, by the way. I’ve been doing some work applying to places in D.C/New York/Boston…but as we all know, interns are at the bottom of the totem pole at this point in time. For now though, I’ll try not to worry… “cuando en España!”

Ciudad Rodrigo Pictures!

2009-02-22T07:07:00.000-08:00

The ring before the running of the bulls.

The girls and our costumes!

Bulls in the ring.

Los Carnavales!

2009-02-22T07:04:00.000-08:00

Today is Sunday, February 22. Yesterday a bunch of us went to Ciudad Rodrigo (Rodrigo City) which is about an hour away from Salamanca to see something called Los Carnavales de Torros (Bull Carnival). Last night on our way home from Rodrigo, Sarah and I pondered how one would even begin a blog about Los Carnavales. We couldn’t figure out how to start writing about it, but we did come to this conclusion: Ciudad Rodrigo = d.p.m., de puta mad. (NOT puta de madre, Elliott).

Basically, hundreds and hundreds of people go to Los Carnavales to: see the running of the bulls, see 4 bull fights, dress up in costumes, and to consume obscene amounts of alcohol. My friends and I partook in all of the above.

Our bus left the station at 9 am and we arrived to Ciudad Rodrigo at around 10. I dressed up as an 80’s work-out girl; I wore bright pink stretchy leggings, white leg warmers, a long white sweater, and about 7 different colored sweat-bands in my hair and around my wrists. I was a little nervous before we got to Rodrigo because I had been told that everyone gets dressed up for Los Carnavales, but on the bus, I was the only person completely decked out in a costume. I was starting to think everybody in Salamanca - including Tron - was playing a trick on me until we got to the bull ring and saw hundreds of other people in costumes. We arrived around 10:30; the bulls weren’t let out yet at this point so there were people inside the ring, drinking and being merry.

After about an hour of enjoying the sun and hanging out in the ring and on the streets, the running of the bulls began. One bull was brought into the ring so naturally the girls and I took a seat in the stands; the 4 guys in our program decided to stay and try to mess with the bull. I am about the same height or taller than every boy in my program; needless to say, seeing them slapping a gigantic bull and running away was kind of funny.

The bull stayed in the ring and people basically just messed with it for an hour and a half. I have a huge soft spot for animals so I didn’t really find it enjoyable to watch the poor bull be poked and pushed around by a bunch of drunken men. However, the bull carnival is a famous cultural event and people travel from all over to see the fights; I’m glad that I saw everything I did.

The actual bull fights wouldn’t start until later on in the day. By the time noon rolled around I was ravenous for food…thank God Escolitron packed Colleen and I home-made lunches. Sometimes I feel like I’m in Kindergarten because when we go on excursions, the Tron won’t let us leave the house without our bagged lunches. The contents generally include nothing less than two massive bocadillos, a chocolate doughnut about the size of my head, fruit, and plenty of water. My bagged lunch definitely came in handy yesterday. It’s nice not to have to spend money on food every time we go on an excursion.

At around 1:30/2:00, the much anticipated bull fight began. My friends and I waited too long to buy a ticket and find a seat so we missed out on having a spot in the stands. We ended up on a platform on the side of the ring, standing on our tip-toes to see the action. I am actually thankful that I didn’t buy a ticket. As soon as I caught sight of the matador killing the bull, I turned around and didn’t watch one more second of the fight. My soft spot for animals got the best of me and I definitely felt a little sad after I saw the wounded bull. In reality though, when a bull dies in a bull fight, it is considered to be a very respectful death. The bull is a famous cultural symbol for all of Spain; there is a huge street before the Plaza Mayor in Salamanca called “Calle Torro” (Bull Street), it basically represents the center of the whole city. Like I said, in the end I’m still glad I went and saw what I saw.

The entire day was a fiesta, but after the bull fights ended, things got totally nuts. Every side street was packed with people in costumes singing and drinking. After a while, the bars started to lock their doors so it was almost impossible to move on the streets. There were people dressed up as knights, cows, bulls, princesses, Hitler’s soldiers (weird), Hitler (weirder), clowns, matadors, 80’s work-out people (me…and only me), rock stars, jesters, and cowboys all over the streets of Rodrigo. Surprisingly enough, there were tons of little kids with their parents on the streets, too.

This day was awesome; it was completely worth the 12 Euros for the round-trip bus ticket. If you come to Spain, seeing the running of the bulls/a bull fight would be another thing besides tapas to add to your to-do list.

"Express"

2009-02-16T07:48:00.001-08:00

This was the piece that I mentioned below, pretty guay.

Hola que tal que pasa como estas, MADRID!

2009-02-16T07:24:00.000-08:00

This past weekend the group had an excursion to Madrid, what an awesome place to be for Valentine’s Day! This was my first time in the big city of Spain; I’m excited that I get to go back when the padres visit me for Spring Break. Madrid reminds me a lot of New York City, except it is a lot cleaner and more spacious. One thing I have noticed about Spain is that the streets are spotless. In Salamanca, there are people who drive these machines around the city every single night that clean the streets and sidewalks. They are about the size of golf carts; they spit out soap and water and have huge sponge-like scrubbers that literally scrub the cement. They’re small and really fast…a definite hazard when you are walking home after being at the bars. I noticed the same thing in Madrid.

We left early on Friday morning (February 13) and came back Sunday night. Our weekend was completely packed with activities. The study abroad program is extremely organized and basically is designed to do all the dirty work for us; the only thing we have to worry about is getting on the bus at the right time and remembering to bring our gargantuan bocadillos that our madre’s make for us. There are obviously many pro’s to that situation, but it also means that if our itinerary includes 8 thousand museum and castle visits at the crack of dawn, there is nothing we can do about it. Not to say that I don’t appreciate art; I enjoy seeing the works of Picasso and Dali and Goya…but not at 8 in the morning after sleeping for a total of 45 minutes the night before.

Our museum/castle visits in Madrid included: Prado Museum, Thyssen Museum, The Royal Palace, Queen Sofia Museum, and the Monastery Palace in Escorial. (I translated all of the museum titles from Spanish so the wordage might not reflect the official English titles). It may not seem like many places, but keep in mind that each visit lasted for 2-3 hours. Chungo.

My favorite museum was Thyssen. It was the most modern art we saw in Madrid, there was one piece that I actually really loved; it’s called “Express” by Robert Rauschenberg. I bought a mini version of it on a postcard.

After the museum visits on Friday, we went to a show called “Espectáculo de Mayumana,” in English they call it “Momentum.” This was unbelievable, I was in heaven. If you’ve ever seen “Stomp” (on Broadway), it was a lot like that. There were around 10 people in the cast. The whole thing was percussion; the performers used their feet, their voices, buckets (for drums) and even water to make the coolest sounds. They were also fabulous dancers. I (illegally) took a bunch of pictures and a few videos of the performance; there are some pictures on Facebook, I’m gonna try to upload the videos, too.

We stayed at a hotel that I have to say was de puta madre...(the bomb diggity). It was called Melia Galgos…I gave the name to the padres so we can try to stay there when they come to visit. We had breakfast at the hotel on Saturday and Sunday morning. I thought I would experience something I like to call “Tron-bot-comida-withdrawal” during the Madrid excursion, but oh no, I was treated to some fantastic Spanish comida.

At the Tron’s casa, we don’t eat a big breakfast so it was nice to have a huge buffet for breakfast at the hotel. The buffet had everything from eggs to artichokes. The sausage in Spain is very distinct from our usual Bob Evans microwavable beef links. It has a really strong taste and each link is usually thick and has lots of little pieces of fat in it (those little white things that we normally steer clear of). But like the rest of the food in Spain – I demolish them like it’s my job. For dinners, the program gave us a stipend of 15€ for each meal. One night we went to this little Italian place. I had a jumbo bowl of pasta for like 9€…fantastico. The next night (for Valentine’s Day) I had a date with Colleen and two other friends to an authentic Spanish restaurant. This was yet another time when our lack of knowledge of the Spanish language put us in a sticky situation. We couldn’t understand anything on the menu except for the words “arroz” (rice) and “mariscos” (seafood). Due to our petrifying paella experience with Escolitron, Colleen and I intended to dodge anything with seafood in it. We ordered the thing that said “arroz” hoping we’d be safe. I think Escolitron sensed our paella-phobia all the way from Salamanca because soon after we ordered, the waitress brought out a humongous pot of paella soup. It had every ingredient that marisco paella has, except it was in soup form. I’m starting to think that God is trying to tell us to get over ourselves and just bite the bullet on the whole paella thing.

Paella or no paella…we ate the dinner and went out and had an awesome night. I have to say I am quite proud of myself, I only spent like 40€ while in Madrid. The bar we went to on Valentine’s Day had a cover of 15€ and it was all-you-can-drink … depending on how you look at it, that could have been a very good or very bad idea. Looking back on it, I think it was a little of both considering the hangover. A bunch of my friends in the group went to a place called “El Capital” which was a 7-story club. I decided to nix that idea because it was 20€ to get in and 12€ per drink.

Overall Valentine’s Day was a blast…except for the fact that, of course, I missed the boo very much. Andy send me an ample amount of Valentine’s text messages and we got to talk on the phone for a while which was a treat . I also came home on Sunday to find a stunning display of 12 red roses waiting for me in my room. I have been bragging about them to all my friends, I even posted a picture on Facebook…I’m such a sap.

I got a good night’s sleep after returning to Salamanca and woke up to go to my independent study class at 10am today. Turns out this class will probably to be the best exchange for 3 credits I will ever have. We are going to read a book called Como Agua para Chocolate and then write 10 pages on it. I have secretly already read this book, but I am actually excited to read it again and analyze it on a different level. I got my hair cut and colored after class, it was only 39€ which is like $50 – not bad! I really like how it looks. I think I did a pretty good job communicating exactly what I wanted to the hairdresser. Although I won’t lie, I rehearsed exactly what I was going to say like 300 times in my head before I actually said it.

Anyways, this upcoming weekend we don’t have an excursion planned so I think I’m going to enjoy Salamanca and eat my fist Doner Kabob. (Kate and Ollie, I know, I can’t believe I haven’t eaten one yet but don’t worry…you will be the first to know my reaction to the Doner after I eat it).

The weekend after this one, February 27, we’re going to Barcelona for 4 days. It’s a 10-hour bus ride; thank God one of my friends gave me the third book to the twilight series. I apologize for the length of this post; I guess I had a lot to say! Glad you all are enjoying the blog so far, there will be many more posts to come.

Mi Horario, que guay!

2009-02-11T07:28:00.000-08:00

My Class Schedule:

Monday: 10am-11am; 5pm-7pm
Tuesday: 11am-1pm
Wednesday: No class…que freaking guay.
Thursday: 9am-10am; 4pm-6pm
Friday: 9am-11am

I feel guilty for having such an easy schedule.

P.s. last night a group of us went out to tapas for the first time, it was amazing. We had so many platters including: calamari, croquetas, stuffed peppers, sausages, artichokes...and many more. It was awesome except for the fact that I accidentally asked the waiter for cotton juice when I was trying to ask for peach juice. Stupid gringa. Anyways, if you come to Spain, tapas are a must!

Estoy Constipada means "My nose is stuffy" Not, "I'm constipated."

2009-02-10T03:31:00.000-08:00

February 9, 2009
It’s been a couple days and I still haven’t been able to publish my blog which is annoying me. I’ve been sick for the last three days straight…in my bed doing absolutely nothing but sweating and blowing my disgustingly stuffy nose every 3 seconds. I'm getting really used to telling people, "estoy constipada." It means "I'm stuffed up" (like stuffy nose), but I am always shy when I say it because even though I know what it means in Spanish, I still feel like I'm telling the whole world that I'm constipated. Spain is awesome but it sucks being sick here. I called the doctor and I got an appointment for tomorrow… thanks to the Tron, I recently realized my appointment is at 7:30 p.m and not 7:30 a.m. Despite my inability to understand Spaniards on the phone, I think my Spanish has definitely been improving since I’ve been here. The other day one of my professors said that I speak very well.. (I’m cheezing)..and also the Tron-bot told Colleen and I today that we speak better than the other girls that have lived with her in the past! (Cheezing again).
My class schedule has changed a lot recently…today I dropped a class and added another one in its place. The one I added is Phonetics, so we will learn how to sound cool to Spaniards and retarded to Americans at the same time. (The Spaniards here speak with a big lisp…at first it was weird to hear, but if you don’t speak with a lisp you are obviously a stupid gringo…so, lisp it is!) The other class that I picked up is called “special studies in Spain.” Apparently I am the only person in the class…and I have to take it. At first, when I realized this was the case…I wanted to cry, literally. I had reason though…I was sick and hot and tired and sweating and cold and head-achy when I found out, so ya know...it sucked. But then I found out that the class only meets for one hour a week and basically I just pick a subject that I want to write about that has to do with Spanish culture, and then I write about it. It seems easy enough…so we’ll see. My first “class” is on Wednesday. I get three credits for it though so that’s kind of exciting.
I do feel a little better today than I have been feeling since Friday. I was able to get out of my bed and sit in the living room with Colleen and the Tron today. The Tron and I tried to teach Colleen how to pronounce “Euros” in Spanish for like 30 minutes. I only learned how to pronounce it like a week ago but it was still really funny to hear Colleen say “errrr…rrrr..rrrrrrr..ooooo…ssseeeee?” like 1000 times in a row. Oh Coll Coll…gotta love her.
I think tomorrow her and I are going to get haircuts…a haircut here is only 10 Euros on average and a full color/highlight is at the most 30 Euros. That’s way better than the average cost in the states…woot! Wish me luck with explaining to the Spaniards what kind of haircut I want…my fingers are crossed.

Oh, P.s...we had paella the other day - it was actually the very next meal after I wrote that first blog post. Maybe the Tron sensed my paella anxiety. It wasn't bad though. I was so "constipada" that I couldn't taste anything so I pretended to thoroughly enjoy it.

Bienvenidos a la casa de Escolitron y la vida Salamantina!

2009-02-10T03:26:00.000-08:00

Today is February 6^th, 2009. We’ve been in Spain for exactly three weeks now; I decided to keep a blog about my time here for three reasons:

1) I have horrible handwriting so when I write in my journal; half of the time I can’t even read it.

2) This can be a way to tell friends and family all the basics about my time here, so I don’t have to re-tell stories to 10 different people each time.

3) My friend Sarah recently started a Spain blog and I am copying her idea.

Hmmm, where to begin…I guess the beginning would make sense! I left the states on January 15^th – the day that a plane flying from Laguardia Airport in New York landed in the Hudson River. To say that I was nervous that day would be a grave understatement. As Ollie drove closer and closer to Reagan National Airport to drop me off, the more I felt like peeing my pants. By the time I got to the baggage check-in line, I was like a deer in headlights – thank God for the airport baggage attendant who noticed my red face and shaking hands. He took my bags (without even weighing them, phew!) and cut the line to check me in for my flight all within five minutes. I still feel bad for only giving him $5 for a tip. After coming dangerously close to a few nervous breakdowns – after hearing about the plane crash, after hearing my flight was delayed 3.5 hours, after not being able to find the JMU meeting place – I finally arrived in Madrid to meet up with the rest of the study abroad group.

My Spanish madre’s name is Escoli, she is an older woman who is always running instead of walking, commenting on the terrible weather, and saying “que horror!” Colleen (my roommate whom I LOVE!) and I have developed a nickname for her: Escolitron. She is like a little old Spanish robot. When I said she’s always running…I meant literally. She always seems to be out of breath by the time we sit down to eat lunch. Colleen and I love Escolitron – she’s very straight forward and has a dry but witty sense of humor; I think. (Half the time Colleen and I just smile and nod because we have no idea what she is saying.) At first I wasn’t so sure about how I felt living with a host madre – you can’t have friends over, you have to be quiet, you always have to turn the lights off when you’re not using them (this was hard to get used to), and you have to close the door without making any noise. But, after almost a month of living with Escolitron, I wouldn’t have it any other way. The food: amazing. The cleanliness: I can eat food off the floor (no need for the 5-second rule). Also, even the little things like sitting at the table and talking (or trying to talk) with Escolitron helps my Spanish and enhances my understanding of Spanish culture.

I think I actually need to dedicate a section to the Tron’s cooking. Colleen and I basically have been in heaven every day at 2:30 and again at 9:30 for dinner. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day here. We always have two big dishes. Usually it’s a meat and something else like pasta, potatoes, veggies…etc. My favorite dishes so far have been: pasta with ridiculous amounts of cheese smothered in a sauce that tastes like ketchup (I know it sounds gross, but it’s actually freaking spectacular); “Arroz a cubana” which is a bowl of rice with a fried egg on top, also smothered in ketchup sauce; and empañadas: pockets of breaded cheese. With almost every meal, the Tron gives us a huge block of cheese.. Normal people would have like one or two slices, but Colleen and I usually manage to inhale the entire block of cheese in less than two days. I can already feel the cheesy breaded amazingness migrating to the lower womanly regions of my body. Oh well…when in Spain.

Almost all of the food has been great; however, there is always a bump in the road when everything seems to be perfect. The bump in the road that I am referring to is Paella. After an exhaustive night of – to put it lightly – bar hopping, Colleen and I rolled out of bed to face unopened clam shells, pig hooves, and jumbo shrimp with big black eyes staring up at us from our plates. We tried to force down the shelled, bug-eyed fish but it didn’t mix so well with the left over tequila in our stomachs from the night before. Our second dish was salmon. On normal occasions, I am a big salmon fan, but on this day, nothing was as it seemed. At first, I felt relieved when I saw my chance to escape from the Paella, so I took a huge bite of the Salmon. The next thing I knew, I had a mouth full of fish bones crunching in between my molars. If there is a God out there, thank you for helping me suppress my extremely sensitive gag reflex. I didn’t want to be rude and projectile vomit at the table, so I ran to the bathroom. For the rest of the meal, I forced down the worst hangover food known to man. We haven’t had Marisco Paella again since then…and I’m crossing my fingers for the days to come.

Escolitron also makes Colleen and I bocadillos (Spanish sandwiches – but really an entire baguette stuffed with potatoes, eggs and mayonnaise…another thing going straight to my thighs) for the bus ride when we go on excursions for the weekends. After the first week of living in Salamanca, we went on a group excursion to Toledo and Segovia.

We got to Toledo during the early afternoon on January 24^th – what a gorgeous city! The streets were quaint and narrow, lined with hundreds of stone restaurants and shops. I was surprised to see several palm trees in Toledo. We toured the Cathedral of Toledo which apparently kicks the asses of the rest of the Spanish cathedrals. I didn’t take any pictures inside but some of the other girls snuck a bunch when the guards weren’t looking. The architecture and artwork of this cathedral took my breath away.

After a long day of touring the city, my trip roommate Mallory and I had a mini hotel party…well, actually, the entire program (31 people) was in our room. We talked, drank, listened to random Spanish music, and got way too loud. After that, about 7 of us girls went out to a club to eventually see a famous statue that had me cringing. In the front of the club on a huge stage was a statue of an inside out cow hanging on Jesus’ cross – apparently it was a famous piece of art that people traveled from all over to see…it was weird, but I’m glad I saw it!

The next day we went to Segovia – it was raining and snowing so we didn’t get out of the bus much, but we did tour the castle of Ferdinand and Isabelle. This castle was the source of inspiration for the castle at Disney World! It was unbelievable; cold, but so worth it. I took a lot of pictures from there – and I bought some coasters from the gift shop with pictures of the castle on them! I’m excited to bring those back to my apartment…I know I’m nerdy.

That weekend was a blast. I got to know everybody a lot better and came to realize that I genuinely enjoy every single person in the program. On the bus ride home from the excursion, I felt overwhelmingly content that I chose to study abroad through the JMU program. Even though I had only been in Salamanca for a week, I felt completely at home when we returned from the weekend in Toledo and Segovia.

The next week, we continued with our intensive class. God – I loved that class. Two-and-a-half weeks of learning colloquial Spanish lingo and joking around with our professor gave me three credits toward my Spanish major. Que guay. (The word guay – which means “cool” – somehow turned into an inside joke for some of us and we ended up writing corny songs and creating an entire project that revolved around the phrase “que guay.”)

The next weekend, everybody in the program but two people traveled to Lizbon, Portugal. The study abroad program has a deal with a travel agency around here – we got a good package-deal for a weekend in Lizbon. We got to the city late Friday night…no need to say we didn’t do any sight-seeing that day. Instead, we all drank obscene amounts of wine and went out to “the doc,” a strip of clubs and bars right next to the huge bridge that resembles the Golden Gate. This night boosted most of our egos because barely anybody at the clubs could speak fluent Spanish – only Portuguese – so we pretended we were Spanish and acted like Spanish speaking machines. We experienced a little bit of a wakeup call when we returned to our households in Salamanca and realized we actually still completely suck.

The next two days in Lizbon, we saw the white-sand beaches and took in the beauty of the city. Many of us were offered huge bags of marijuana. Nobody came up to me, but a couple of my friends for some reason were magnets for Portuguese drug pushers. We had a delicious Portuguese lunch. I had eggs with ham and cheese…but, it was from a Portuguese restaurant so I am still gonna say that it was an authentic Portuguese meal. Yup.

The end of that weekend brings us up to date! We got back from Portugal five days ago. We started our regular classes on Monday. Most of us are taking 12 credits (because we already got three from the intensive). I am taking: Spanish Civilization, Latin-American Civilization, Spanish Art, and Spanish Cinema and Literature. All of my professors are employed by the University of Salamanca, so none of them speak to us in English. I have to say, I am quite proud of myself so far – I can understand about 90% of what my professors are saying at any given time. Although, if I’m tired or zone out, all I heard is blah blah blah blah…bueno…blah blah blah…pues…blah blah blah…hablo con mucha prisa?

I’m starting to feel really at home in Salamanca. The city is huge, but not too huge that you can’t get to know your neighbors. I know where a lot of the main spots are…like bocadillo places, quickie marts, locutorios (internet/phone cafes), supermarkets, some bars (although there are 1800 in Salamanca so I’m taking it one-by-one), restaurants, and classroom buildings. I hadn’t felt home sick at all until a couple days ago. It wasn’t that I wanted to go home; I think it just hit me that I can’t do certain things like get in my Honda and drive to chipotle or sit on the internet and Facebook stalk in my room. Maybe it was a little bit of culture shock. With that aside though, I’ve had little aversion to the culture here. I feel like I’m fitting in pretty well and I’m definitely glad to be here. Next weekend, on February 12^th, we go to Madrid for the weekend…woooot! Guay.