There's not much I can say right now.
Actually, there's a lot I want to say, but I'd not finish writing in time to catch my plane. Plus, I don't know for sure how I'm feeling yet, so I can't put it in words.
It's close to 1a.m. and my time in Spain is coming to a close. Tonight was the goodbye party. Almost everyone from the school came. And for the last time.
The night started out really fun. We laughed, we drank, we took pictures and sang songs. Then, at eleven o'clock, we were sent out.
We stayed in the street in front of our school and discussed what to do next. Some people were going out because they won't be leaving tomorrow. The bar across the street was playing the Sevilla futbol game on TV, and only ten minutes after we'd left school, the game ended and Sevilla had officially won La Copa del Rey (It's like the Super Bowl).
Since then, and for the next several hours, the cars will be honking, people will be singing their team's songs and flags will be waved.
Yet this victory was not sweet enough to pull me out of the deep depression I've just entered.
As much as I want to go home, I realllllly want to stay.
Over the last four months, I've learned to live and think in a different way. Only now that it's over am I starting to realize how incredibly extraordinary that is.
I've been so so so (so x 1000000) lucky. I've been able to fulfill a dream I've had for years.
I finally studied abroad in a place that I now love. Sevilla hasta la muerte!!
I remember right before the Morocco trip, I told Angela, "I don't think I've ever had this many good days in a row," and it's continued to be absolutely true.
This is the most extraordinary city of any city I've ever been to. Anything you could want is here. It's in the oldest country in Europe, so it has a fascinating history that weaves in and out of the history of every other nation in the world. It has a vibrant and exciting culture. There is always some kind of special celebration going on here (For example: This morning I planned on sleeping in because it's technically my first day of summer vacation. Yet, I woke up to the sound of cannons going off. I still don't even know what they were for! But, I kid you not, there were cannons blasting in the streets. Then, I get a call from Angela, "I don't know where I am, Cece! There's some kind of parade and a ton of people out here, I got pushed out of my route to school. Help me! I have a final today! I have to get to school!!").
Not to mention, the food here is spectacular. Big fan. I heard that 6 of the 10 best restaurants in the WORLD are in Spain. WHOOOaaa
Anyway, I'm definitely going to miss my host mom. She has taken every measure necessary to help me and comfort me and she's taught me the entire time. She was so patient and compassionate. Not to mention, absolutely adorable!
My professors were amazing. The classes were pretty easy because they wanted to give us the chance to explore the city, country and world. So, we did.
I have met so many people. So many people, from so many countries. I've learned new things every day. Every day was different, every day had a lesson, and every day was an adventure.
My school was small enough to really get to know each person, and connect with them about something. We all knew each other and we all came to love each other. As we stood outside our school and cheered for our team's victory, I watched everyone interact... and there's whole a lotta love in this group.
As every one said goodbye they hugged and kissed. No apologies. Never a handshake. I wanted to say bye to all of them, but not actually have to leave any of them. We have bonded in such a major way. We'll forever share something that no one else will ever fully understand. Siempre joven!
As the group started dissipating, smaller groups left to various bars. The group growing a little smaller every minutes made me cry... right in the middle of the street. I do NOT like showing emotion in public, so you KNOW I had to be upset. Angela saw me crying and so she started crying. For a moment, I really thought I would be incapable of leaving.
We've set some pretty heavy roots down here.
I want to remember EVERY LITTLE THING about this city. It is all so beautiful and all so mine.
I cannot believe I have to go. I don't want to any more. I've changed my mind. I'll stay!
Life at home is going to be so foreign. I feel like I'm entering into something unknown. I honestly cannot picture myself at home this summer. I mean, what am I gonna DO?
I'm SOOoooo excited to see my family. I've really missed them. But, I feel like after I rest a little while and say hello, I should come back hahahah
Gosh, this is just crazy.
What an incredible gift these four months were. I'm just so sad it's over.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Sevillian Senses
Spain's a pleasure to all five of the senses, and these are the ones I'll miss most when I'm forced to leave here:
Hearing:
*"Cecilia! Comida!" Mari's so dang cute!
*"OOoof..." They always say this. Instead of, "Oh my!" "oh, no!" or "Geez!"
*"Hola, Guapa," from strange men on the streets. They always say it when they're JUST past you (out of an arm's swing's range). All of the girls at school have already discussed this, but seriously, what do they expect us to do? Turn around and scream, "Wait! Come back! You're cute!"
*Construction -- This is a bigger city than I expected, so I hear this a lot.
*Sirens from 8 floors below
"OOOH-EEH" (instead of "oops")
*"PON!" (instead of "BOOM!")
*Whistling and Singing: Spaniards will pretty much start singing/whistling/whatever whenever the fancy strikes them. They don't care who's around, watching, taking a video of it...
*The street performer's music: violins, boom boxes, harps, accordions, and the crazy guy who just belts out awful attempts at classic songs.
*Mari's Flamenco music-- She listens to it while she cleans. And dances a little. I put it on my iTunes :)
*Pitos (Horns)
*Cheering for the football team. Even though the stadium is pretty far from my apartment, I can always tell when they've scored or a bad call's been made.
*Mari's t.v.... until about 12 or 1 in the morning every night. Her hysterical laughter is a pleasant accompaniment to its sounds.
*"Mi alma," this is the first part of a song we sing every Sunday in church. The way they say it is really funny though. They make it sound like one word and say the E really hard and squeaky. "MEEEALMA"
*"Mi alma" (also a pickup line)
*"Hombre," this is something anyone could hear 10 times in one conversation. It's an exclamation and a title. It's like "dude," but more versatile. You can say it when you're surprised, excited, angry, use it as a substitute for someone's name... It's funniest when old people use it. Regardless of age, it's always pronounced the same, "om-BRAY!" Starting really deep and their voice getting higher at the end of the word. hahaha I love it!
*"Vale," I'm almost sick or hearing this word. They say it even more than "Hombre"! It means, "sure, I understand, OK, yes, I'll do it, etc." I have a pretty spazzy professor that says it about 4 times in a row every few sentences. "BALL-ay"
*Hearing nothing but Spanish. When we actually DO find someone who speaks English, we stop them and asking them where they're from. Lots of Ohio people here...
*"Chungo," it means "shitty," and I have one professor who uses it really often. It suits him. Evey time I hear this word I still think of him. I kept track of how many times he said it during one of our classes... ELEVEN. ELEVEN TIMES he said it.
*My iPod on the way to school
*The birds that always swirl outside my window. Eeeehhhhhhh!
*Speaking in English and knowing no one around understands you. I'm just waiting until the day I say something I know I shouldn't and having an English-speaker turn around and yell at me or something. Nothing is taboo until that moment.
*"Hija," Mari calls me this now. I almost teared up the first time she did... It means daughter. :)
*Profanity. It's NO big deal to swear here. You can hear 11 year old boys running around yelling the F-word.
*Cussing in English, too. It's really strange, but if I'm eavesdropping on native speakers, I'll hear them slip the word F*** (IN ENGLISH) into their conversation. WEIRD hahaha
*That guy that plays the flute outside my window on Sunday mornings
Tasting:
*Pineapple jelly
*Umm... Gelato, der
*Bread
*Honey
*Spanish Oranges
*Bones in my food (Mari never quite seems to get them all out when she prepares meals. haha)
*Kinder Bueno :D
*Salt, oil and vinegar on salads
*Mayo on fish and potatoes and anything else, really
*Banana beer
*Never having super clean dishes... There are always bits of... something in my glasses.
*Empanadas
*Tortilla de patata (really famous here and I know how to make it!)
*Cheese (and savoring it, we don't eat a lot of it)
*Warm water
*Orange Fanta
*Toast with olive oil and sugar (for breakfast) DELICIOUS.
Feeling:
*My red Tumi bag digging into my shoulder.
*Cobblestone streets
*My keys in my back pocket
*Cool marble under my feet, then Mari telling me to put socks on
*Too-hot, bitter coffee in the morning
*Wet boots. My feet were constantly raisined the first few weeks here!
*My hair blowing in the citrusy wind
*Warm sun
*My bed here... So soft! I never wanna get out.
*Almost falling to the ground when I try my heels out on the uneven sidewalks
*Wet clothes. No one here has a dryer! They ALL air-dry their stuff...
*Besitos (hello and good-bye kisses)
*Pantyhose
*Blisters on my feet... With so much walking, it's inevitable.
Seeing:
*All the street performers and musicians
*Constant passing of faces
*The Metro with a Scarlett Johanssen Mango ad on the side
*Bus number 25 or 26
*Spanish women stopped dead in front of shoe store windows.
*My apartment: 8A
*Zara bags
*Parks
*Spaniards soaking up sun in the plazas
*Fountains
*Spaniards' shocked expressions when I, the blond American, pick up a Spanish newspaper in the morning.
*Vespas
*The center/Plaza Nueva
*The tiles on the walls in my school
*Markets in the Plaza
*Maps... not that I can read them
*Boots
*Brown hair
*Leather
*My newsfeed on Facebook (almost consumed by CC-CS people)
*Orange trees
*Being able to see over most heads in a crowd
*Breathtaking buildings
*Breathtaking buildings lit up at night
*Filled up street cafes during siesta
*Botelloners
*Leggings and panty hose (They never leave home without 'em!!)
*All the boat and sailing photographs on the walls of "my" room
*Flamenco dresses
*Doner Kebab
*NH hotel
*Spanish Glamour
*Horses in the Plaza
*Spotting tourists like it's a game.
Smelling:
*Mari's cooking
*Sun-warmed oranges on the trees in the streets
*Spaniards. They always wear rich perfumes. After I pass them, I wait a second and then inhale deeply. (That was embarrassing to admit. hahahha)
*... Fish markets (believe it or not)
*Warm bread in the bakeries
*Mari's laundry detergent
*Horses in the Plaza's crap all over the street.. Oh, wait. No I won't.
*Pomegranate body wash
*Coffee
*The perfume of the automated air freshener in Mari's hall.
Basically, EVERYTHING
Hearing:
*"Cecilia! Comida!" Mari's so dang cute!
*"OOoof..." They always say this. Instead of, "Oh my!" "oh, no!" or "Geez!"
*"Hola, Guapa," from strange men on the streets. They always say it when they're JUST past you (out of an arm's swing's range). All of the girls at school have already discussed this, but seriously, what do they expect us to do? Turn around and scream, "Wait! Come back! You're cute!"
*Construction -- This is a bigger city than I expected, so I hear this a lot.
*Sirens from 8 floors below
"OOOH-EEH" (instead of "oops")
*"PON!" (instead of "BOOM!")
*Whistling and Singing: Spaniards will pretty much start singing/whistling/whatever whenever the fancy strikes them. They don't care who's around, watching, taking a video of it...
*The street performer's music: violins, boom boxes, harps, accordions, and the crazy guy who just belts out awful attempts at classic songs.
*Mari's Flamenco music-- She listens to it while she cleans. And dances a little. I put it on my iTunes :)
*Pitos (Horns)
*Cheering for the football team. Even though the stadium is pretty far from my apartment, I can always tell when they've scored or a bad call's been made.
*Mari's t.v.... until about 12 or 1 in the morning every night. Her hysterical laughter is a pleasant accompaniment to its sounds.
*"Mi alma," this is the first part of a song we sing every Sunday in church. The way they say it is really funny though. They make it sound like one word and say the E really hard and squeaky. "MEEEALMA"
*"Mi alma" (also a pickup line)
*"Hombre," this is something anyone could hear 10 times in one conversation. It's an exclamation and a title. It's like "dude," but more versatile. You can say it when you're surprised, excited, angry, use it as a substitute for someone's name... It's funniest when old people use it. Regardless of age, it's always pronounced the same, "om-BRAY!" Starting really deep and their voice getting higher at the end of the word. hahaha I love it!
*"Vale," I'm almost sick or hearing this word. They say it even more than "Hombre"! It means, "sure, I understand, OK, yes, I'll do it, etc." I have a pretty spazzy professor that says it about 4 times in a row every few sentences. "BALL-ay"
*Hearing nothing but Spanish. When we actually DO find someone who speaks English, we stop them and asking them where they're from. Lots of Ohio people here...
*"Chungo," it means "shitty," and I have one professor who uses it really often. It suits him. Evey time I hear this word I still think of him. I kept track of how many times he said it during one of our classes... ELEVEN. ELEVEN TIMES he said it.
*My iPod on the way to school
*The birds that always swirl outside my window. Eeeehhhhhhh!
*Speaking in English and knowing no one around understands you. I'm just waiting until the day I say something I know I shouldn't and having an English-speaker turn around and yell at me or something. Nothing is taboo until that moment.
*"Hija," Mari calls me this now. I almost teared up the first time she did... It means daughter. :)
*Profanity. It's NO big deal to swear here. You can hear 11 year old boys running around yelling the F-word.
*Cussing in English, too. It's really strange, but if I'm eavesdropping on native speakers, I'll hear them slip the word F*** (IN ENGLISH) into their conversation. WEIRD hahaha
*That guy that plays the flute outside my window on Sunday mornings
Tasting:
*Pineapple jelly
*Umm... Gelato, der
*Bread
*Honey
*Spanish Oranges
*Bones in my food (Mari never quite seems to get them all out when she prepares meals. haha)
*Kinder Bueno :D
*Salt, oil and vinegar on salads
*Mayo on fish and potatoes and anything else, really
*Banana beer
*Never having super clean dishes... There are always bits of... something in my glasses.
*Empanadas
*Tortilla de patata (really famous here and I know how to make it!)
*Cheese (and savoring it, we don't eat a lot of it)
*Warm water
*Orange Fanta
*Toast with olive oil and sugar (for breakfast) DELICIOUS.
Feeling:
*My red Tumi bag digging into my shoulder.
*Cobblestone streets
*My keys in my back pocket
*Cool marble under my feet, then Mari telling me to put socks on
*Too-hot, bitter coffee in the morning
*Wet boots. My feet were constantly raisined the first few weeks here!
*My hair blowing in the citrusy wind
*Warm sun
*My bed here... So soft! I never wanna get out.
*Almost falling to the ground when I try my heels out on the uneven sidewalks
*Wet clothes. No one here has a dryer! They ALL air-dry their stuff...
*Besitos (hello and good-bye kisses)
*Pantyhose
*Blisters on my feet... With so much walking, it's inevitable.
Seeing:
*All the street performers and musicians
*Constant passing of faces
*The Metro with a Scarlett Johanssen Mango ad on the side
*Bus number 25 or 26
*Spanish women stopped dead in front of shoe store windows.
*My apartment: 8A
*Zara bags
*Parks
*Spaniards soaking up sun in the plazas
*Fountains
*Spaniards' shocked expressions when I, the blond American, pick up a Spanish newspaper in the morning.
*Vespas
*The center/Plaza Nueva
*The tiles on the walls in my school
*Markets in the Plaza
*Maps... not that I can read them
*Boots
*Brown hair
*Leather
*My newsfeed on Facebook (almost consumed by CC-CS people)
*Orange trees
*Being able to see over most heads in a crowd
*Breathtaking buildings
*Breathtaking buildings lit up at night
*Filled up street cafes during siesta
*Botelloners
*Leggings and panty hose (They never leave home without 'em!!)
*All the boat and sailing photographs on the walls of "my" room
*Flamenco dresses
*Doner Kebab
*NH hotel
*Spanish Glamour
*Horses in the Plaza
*Spotting tourists like it's a game.
Smelling:
*Mari's cooking
*Sun-warmed oranges on the trees in the streets
*Spaniards. They always wear rich perfumes. After I pass them, I wait a second and then inhale deeply. (That was embarrassing to admit. hahahha)
*... Fish markets (believe it or not)
*Warm bread in the bakeries
*Mari's laundry detergent
*Horses in the Plaza's crap all over the street.. Oh, wait. No I won't.
*Pomegranate body wash
*Coffee
*The perfume of the automated air freshener in Mari's hall.
Basically, EVERYTHING
Finals? CHECK! Two Days...
Today is Tuesday and I'm officially done with my second year at college.
WOOOOOooooo HHHOOOoo
My finals were pretty easy. And thank God. I was not as prepared as I should have been. (They couldn't have expected anything different than that... I mean, it was our last weekend here!)
To be honest, my Civilization final was like a gift. Half way through the essay test I felt like I was just showing off.
I WAS sure to get one last embarrassing moment in on my walk home... Well two, really. I tripped and almost fell to the concrete while a metro train was parked and full right on my side. Then, just when all my defenses were down, and I was a block from my apartment, a gust of wind lifted my skirt up quite high... a car honked. I was so embarrassed I think all 4 of my cheeks blushed.
Tuesday my final was early in the morning, so I got it outta the way nice and early. This left me free to my own devices (or w/e the expression is).
I had finally found my way onto my roommate's facebook page. So, I was creeping her...
Background information: The other day, Mari was talking with Aco, and Mari told me that Aco said that she'd spoken with a professor of Samara's and asked the professor about Samara's strange behavior, "style" of clothing, and mannerisms. Aco reported back to Mari and told her that the professor was shocked when she'd heard Aco's question. According to Samara's professor, she walks around campus with her hair down, in heels, and in dresses.......
[Inset slack-jawed expression]
Mari was completely dumbfounded, Aco was confused, and I was convinced I'd either not understood Aco or that there was more that one Samara at her school... Mari just kept repeating, "I'd have to see a picture to believe it..."
The news of Samara's selective strangeness spread like wildfire around our tiny school. No one could believe it. So, when I found her facebook, I was sure to thoroughly creep Samara and then invite Mari to join me.
I walked in Mari's kitchen with the SMUGGEST look on my face, plopped my computer down on the table and told Mari I had a gift for her. I will never forget the look on her face when she saw the pictures of Samara in a dress. HILARIOUS.
We looked through all of her pictures, but had to be quiet because, for once, Samara was actually home. It must have been quite the sight: the two of us hunched over my laptop whispering and giggling hahahahhaha
I said goodbye to her younger son after lunch :( I'm not sure if I'll get to see the older one...
Later, a man came to help Mari because she has a bird's nest in a tube in the wall of her kitchen... EIGHT stories up. So, they're trying to correct it from inside.
This man is literally tearing her walls out. And then, they see the bird's nest is just OUTSIDE the apartment walls. hahahahahha Mari says, "Oh, come on! Why didn't they just go to El Parque Maria Luisa instead of settling for this tiny tube!?" she was very annoyed. But, as she continued to watch the baby birds, her tone changed significantly, "Aw, but look at them in there... all comfy... how cute." hahahahhahah I tried so hard not to laugh at her!
So for now, I am finishing my shopping, packing, partying and soaking up Spain.
YAY to being done with school!!
WOOOOOooooo HHHOOOoo
My finals were pretty easy. And thank God. I was not as prepared as I should have been. (They couldn't have expected anything different than that... I mean, it was our last weekend here!)
To be honest, my Civilization final was like a gift. Half way through the essay test I felt like I was just showing off.
I WAS sure to get one last embarrassing moment in on my walk home... Well two, really. I tripped and almost fell to the concrete while a metro train was parked and full right on my side. Then, just when all my defenses were down, and I was a block from my apartment, a gust of wind lifted my skirt up quite high... a car honked. I was so embarrassed I think all 4 of my cheeks blushed.
Tuesday my final was early in the morning, so I got it outta the way nice and early. This left me free to my own devices (or w/e the expression is).
I had finally found my way onto my roommate's facebook page. So, I was creeping her...
Background information: The other day, Mari was talking with Aco, and Mari told me that Aco said that she'd spoken with a professor of Samara's and asked the professor about Samara's strange behavior, "style" of clothing, and mannerisms. Aco reported back to Mari and told her that the professor was shocked when she'd heard Aco's question. According to Samara's professor, she walks around campus with her hair down, in heels, and in dresses.......
[Inset slack-jawed expression]
Mari was completely dumbfounded, Aco was confused, and I was convinced I'd either not understood Aco or that there was more that one Samara at her school... Mari just kept repeating, "I'd have to see a picture to believe it..."
The news of Samara's selective strangeness spread like wildfire around our tiny school. No one could believe it. So, when I found her facebook, I was sure to thoroughly creep Samara and then invite Mari to join me.
I walked in Mari's kitchen with the SMUGGEST look on my face, plopped my computer down on the table and told Mari I had a gift for her. I will never forget the look on her face when she saw the pictures of Samara in a dress. HILARIOUS.
We looked through all of her pictures, but had to be quiet because, for once, Samara was actually home. It must have been quite the sight: the two of us hunched over my laptop whispering and giggling hahahahhaha
I said goodbye to her younger son after lunch :( I'm not sure if I'll get to see the older one...
Later, a man came to help Mari because she has a bird's nest in a tube in the wall of her kitchen... EIGHT stories up. So, they're trying to correct it from inside.
This man is literally tearing her walls out. And then, they see the bird's nest is just OUTSIDE the apartment walls. hahahahahha Mari says, "Oh, come on! Why didn't they just go to El Parque Maria Luisa instead of settling for this tiny tube!?" she was very annoyed. But, as she continued to watch the baby birds, her tone changed significantly, "Aw, but look at them in there... all comfy... how cute." hahahahhahah I tried so hard not to laugh at her!
So for now, I am finishing my shopping, packing, partying and soaking up Spain.
YAY to being done with school!!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Four Days? You Kidding?
So it's Sunday May 16th and I'm freaking out.
How can it be so close to the day that I leave the second best country in the world?
In so many ways it feels like I just got here, but at the same time, I can hardly remember what it was like to live at home or in my old dorm.
I've developed a really strange habit as a result of being here and I asked a bunch of my friends if they have it too, and it turns out I'm not alone. We are CONSTANTLY thinking, "how would I say that in Spanish?" as we go through our days here. Constantly. That being said, we've begun to do almost the same thing as we look back on situations we've already been in or are about to go through. For example, I was thinking about how I quit my job at Red Robin, and seeing as it was a sticky situation, I thought to myself, "seriously, how did I get through that??" before I remember that I was still allowed to speak English at that point.
Then, I was thinking about how it will be when I got to see my grandma again. I kept planning what I would say first, and how I would say it, and this weird thought process continued till I finally remembered she doesn't even speak Spanish, so I should probably switch to English again.
There's also something I've yet to mention that I wanted to wait till one of my last blogs to discuss... because it's disgusting:
Here in Spain, they've taken a number of measures to keep the heat from entering the homes of the Sevillanos. Such as, marble floors, which stay cool, no screens in any windows, gaps under all the doors, which are bigger than the ones in the US, and lots of smooth, stone surfaces. This makes for some awesome acoustics. So, when one is called by nature, that one's business is heard by EVERY ONE in the apartment. There is nothing to muffle the sounds and there is very little that can be done to counteract the effects of the acoustics.
That being said, there is a certain kind of closeness that is maintained by people who have to share that same echo-friendly apartment. You learn each other's... "schedules". It's awful.
I can't wait to have a bathroom with a fan (because bathrooms here don't have fans either!)
I also want a politically incorrect, long, water-wasting shower.
I also cannot wait to share a living space with people who aren't going to judge me for not going out every single night.
The other day, Mari told me, "No sales casi nunca... Pero cuando sales... OO-EE!" She thinks I never go out. She is accustomed to the Spanish kids who go out almost every night of the week (leaving the house at about 11 or 12) and getting back at around 3 or 4. But, I am an American. And there are some things that I may WANT to change... but I can't. So, when I am getting ready to go out and it is 11:45 and I've yet to leave the house, my body goes into "all-nighter mode". So, I don't come back till 6 or 7 (right around when she gets up and significantly later than most Spaniards). I sleep in late, I'm groggy all day, and I can't get up the strength to go out that night. So, my host mom judges me.
This week was a roller coaster ride. Monday seemed to keep creating situations that would smash me over the head till I was beaten and bruised by 6:10 pm. To give you the short version: it was supposed to be the best kind of day, but it turned into a beast of a day. It was to consist of 2 field trips and a movie. Fin.
Instead, we walked 20 minutes to get to the museum for my first class (after getting to school early) and the museum was closed. So, we walked all the way back to continue with a normal class and get our tests from last week back.
I did awful on my test and I thought I'd done at least decent.
Then, the movie for my second class turned out to be a dubbed version of the SAME MOVIE I'd used to write my FINAL paper for the SAME class. I'd used an English version (bc no Spanish translation was given on the site) and it was my main source for the paper. I'd sited it the whole way through, but never put in direct quotes because, technically, it wasn't being quoted, it was being translated... I was TERRIFIED that my professor would think I'd just copied the Spanish version and he'd give me a zero (it didn't help that he was my super-handsome professor!) Finally, my third class was supposed to be a field trip too, but apparently, my Lit teacher wasn't the only one that forgot that, in Spain, all museums are closed on Mondays.
GRRRRrr...
Tuesday was normal, I asked my prof if he wanted me to change my paper and use the Spanish version, and he said it wasn't a big deal and not to worry about it. (I should have known!!! This IS Spain, for Heaven's sakes, since when do they get bent outta shape for ANYTHING?)
I prepared for finals all week. Thursday was our last day of classes. Friday was my most important final... Lit. I had to make up for my bad test score. I studied really hard, and I was sure I had most of it down. Come Friday morning, my allergies are in high gear. My nose won't stop running and I keep sneezing. So, in lieu of being "that girl" who during the whole test sniffles and during the whole test you just want to command her to get a tissue so the class can resume taking their test in peace, I took some "non-drowsy" benedryl.
During the test, it was all I could do to wake up before my head came crashing down onto my desk as I nodded off YET AGAIN.
Despite my drugged state, I actually think I managed a good grade on my test.
As the day wore on, I turned out to be just the first, and not the only, person in my apartment that took an allergy drug.
As we were eating lunch, I was staring at my plate and drinking insane amounts of water between bites to keep my mouth constantly busy, as usual, and as my roommate grunted, cleared her throat, cracked her neck, stretched her arms, laughed at a message on her phone (whatever it takes for her to call attention to herself. Normally, were it any other person, you would ask, "oh, are you sore from your martial arts class?" or "what's so funny?" or "you sick?" but, I've gotten so used to it, I almost hardly hear it. Plus, if you get her talking... she doesn't stop, which makes it really awkward when I've already finished eating and I'm standing at the door "listening" and nodding, wondering when I can interrupt her and exit the kitchen). Anyway, she's mid-bite in this little fried tuna thing that we have almost once a week. Suddenly, she curses in Spanish (because, after all, she "thinks" in Spanish (HER version of it, anyway), so it's hard for her to switch back.......... GROAN) and she BOLTS from the room. Very dramatic. Very her.
She comes back in, and I already know EXACTLY what is going on. We'd gotten an extra sweet batch of tuna things and it even caught my attention. But, she was "CONVINCED" that there were peaches in her fried tuna thing. SO, she was worried her terrible allergy would flare up.
I didn't initiate conversation with her when she walked back in.
I didn't wanna hear it.
So, I kept eating, but faster. She sat there huffing and puffing and acting nervously. Finally, she spoke. "Did you taste peaches?"
I slowly looked up from my plate and said, "no, I did not."
"Well, I did, and I ate one. So, good job, S******, you killed yourself."
[eye roll]
She continued eating, but slower and I could see her look at her arms and rub them every now and then. She was "checking for hives".
If you had a super strong allergy, wouldn't you QUICKLY question the maker of the food about the ingredients? I would!
She waited to ask Mari about the peaches until after she finished eating... Mari looked at her like she was some kind of idiot when she asked her. "Who would fry peaches???" hahahhahahhah
So, she spent the rest of the afternoon very nervous, but I wasn't conscious for it. I was in a benedryl-induced coma.
Friday was also Angela's birthday. I got her a sweater to replace the one that was stolen from her on the Love Boat the weekend before. I also rounded up as many people as I could so we could all head to the Torre to celebrate her birthday and get together one last time.
I was QUITE happy and surprised by the number of people who showed. I'd sent the invite on FB and only 20 people could receive it at once. So, obviously, some people were left out.
We botelloned (to botellon = to drink outside a bar, or in the street, it's illegal, but not enforced (like every other law here) in fact, several cop cars drove by during our party haahha.) for a while until people began getting fussy or running out of booze. It was so nice having so many of us together. There were prolly 60 or 70 people there and at a school of 100 (when people aren't on vacation) that was impressive.
We ended up at one of the bars we frequented during our first, naive weeks in Spain... On Calle Betis.
It SHOULD be called Calle Americano because there are SO many American students and English speaking bars down this one road. We didn't stay long.
We went to Buddah and pretended to be dating some random Spaniard boys to get in. FAIL.
So, we went to El Catedral. We got in right away, but were constantly hit on and this week Jenny's coat was stolen! This must be the bar where any Spanish guy who wants to get an American girl goes. Because, those were the only two kinds of people there. No Spanish women (which I THOUGHT would be a good thing).
It was a great night though. So fun.
So for now, I'm wrestling with time. Trying to soak up all the Spain I can, but thinking about my family and friends in the USA. I think I'm the only person at CC-CS that's ready to head back. I mean, my bags are 75% packed... hahaha
Only two more finals, a party, a plane ride, another plane ride, and I'm home!
Wait for me! :)
How can it be so close to the day that I leave the second best country in the world?
In so many ways it feels like I just got here, but at the same time, I can hardly remember what it was like to live at home or in my old dorm.
I've developed a really strange habit as a result of being here and I asked a bunch of my friends if they have it too, and it turns out I'm not alone. We are CONSTANTLY thinking, "how would I say that in Spanish?" as we go through our days here. Constantly. That being said, we've begun to do almost the same thing as we look back on situations we've already been in or are about to go through. For example, I was thinking about how I quit my job at Red Robin, and seeing as it was a sticky situation, I thought to myself, "seriously, how did I get through that??" before I remember that I was still allowed to speak English at that point.
Then, I was thinking about how it will be when I got to see my grandma again. I kept planning what I would say first, and how I would say it, and this weird thought process continued till I finally remembered she doesn't even speak Spanish, so I should probably switch to English again.
There's also something I've yet to mention that I wanted to wait till one of my last blogs to discuss... because it's disgusting:
Here in Spain, they've taken a number of measures to keep the heat from entering the homes of the Sevillanos. Such as, marble floors, which stay cool, no screens in any windows, gaps under all the doors, which are bigger than the ones in the US, and lots of smooth, stone surfaces. This makes for some awesome acoustics. So, when one is called by nature, that one's business is heard by EVERY ONE in the apartment. There is nothing to muffle the sounds and there is very little that can be done to counteract the effects of the acoustics.
That being said, there is a certain kind of closeness that is maintained by people who have to share that same echo-friendly apartment. You learn each other's... "schedules". It's awful.
I can't wait to have a bathroom with a fan (because bathrooms here don't have fans either!)
I also want a politically incorrect, long, water-wasting shower.
I also cannot wait to share a living space with people who aren't going to judge me for not going out every single night.
The other day, Mari told me, "No sales casi nunca... Pero cuando sales... OO-EE!" She thinks I never go out. She is accustomed to the Spanish kids who go out almost every night of the week (leaving the house at about 11 or 12) and getting back at around 3 or 4. But, I am an American. And there are some things that I may WANT to change... but I can't. So, when I am getting ready to go out and it is 11:45 and I've yet to leave the house, my body goes into "all-nighter mode". So, I don't come back till 6 or 7 (right around when she gets up and significantly later than most Spaniards). I sleep in late, I'm groggy all day, and I can't get up the strength to go out that night. So, my host mom judges me.
This week was a roller coaster ride. Monday seemed to keep creating situations that would smash me over the head till I was beaten and bruised by 6:10 pm. To give you the short version: it was supposed to be the best kind of day, but it turned into a beast of a day. It was to consist of 2 field trips and a movie. Fin.
Instead, we walked 20 minutes to get to the museum for my first class (after getting to school early) and the museum was closed. So, we walked all the way back to continue with a normal class and get our tests from last week back.
I did awful on my test and I thought I'd done at least decent.
Then, the movie for my second class turned out to be a dubbed version of the SAME MOVIE I'd used to write my FINAL paper for the SAME class. I'd used an English version (bc no Spanish translation was given on the site) and it was my main source for the paper. I'd sited it the whole way through, but never put in direct quotes because, technically, it wasn't being quoted, it was being translated... I was TERRIFIED that my professor would think I'd just copied the Spanish version and he'd give me a zero (it didn't help that he was my super-handsome professor!) Finally, my third class was supposed to be a field trip too, but apparently, my Lit teacher wasn't the only one that forgot that, in Spain, all museums are closed on Mondays.
GRRRRrr...
Tuesday was normal, I asked my prof if he wanted me to change my paper and use the Spanish version, and he said it wasn't a big deal and not to worry about it. (I should have known!!! This IS Spain, for Heaven's sakes, since when do they get bent outta shape for ANYTHING?)
I prepared for finals all week. Thursday was our last day of classes. Friday was my most important final... Lit. I had to make up for my bad test score. I studied really hard, and I was sure I had most of it down. Come Friday morning, my allergies are in high gear. My nose won't stop running and I keep sneezing. So, in lieu of being "that girl" who during the whole test sniffles and during the whole test you just want to command her to get a tissue so the class can resume taking their test in peace, I took some "non-drowsy" benedryl.
During the test, it was all I could do to wake up before my head came crashing down onto my desk as I nodded off YET AGAIN.
Despite my drugged state, I actually think I managed a good grade on my test.
As the day wore on, I turned out to be just the first, and not the only, person in my apartment that took an allergy drug.
As we were eating lunch, I was staring at my plate and drinking insane amounts of water between bites to keep my mouth constantly busy, as usual, and as my roommate grunted, cleared her throat, cracked her neck, stretched her arms, laughed at a message on her phone (whatever it takes for her to call attention to herself. Normally, were it any other person, you would ask, "oh, are you sore from your martial arts class?" or "what's so funny?" or "you sick?" but, I've gotten so used to it, I almost hardly hear it. Plus, if you get her talking... she doesn't stop, which makes it really awkward when I've already finished eating and I'm standing at the door "listening" and nodding, wondering when I can interrupt her and exit the kitchen). Anyway, she's mid-bite in this little fried tuna thing that we have almost once a week. Suddenly, she curses in Spanish (because, after all, she "thinks" in Spanish (HER version of it, anyway), so it's hard for her to switch back.......... GROAN) and she BOLTS from the room. Very dramatic. Very her.
She comes back in, and I already know EXACTLY what is going on. We'd gotten an extra sweet batch of tuna things and it even caught my attention. But, she was "CONVINCED" that there were peaches in her fried tuna thing. SO, she was worried her terrible allergy would flare up.
I didn't initiate conversation with her when she walked back in.
I didn't wanna hear it.
So, I kept eating, but faster. She sat there huffing and puffing and acting nervously. Finally, she spoke. "Did you taste peaches?"
I slowly looked up from my plate and said, "no, I did not."
"Well, I did, and I ate one. So, good job, S******, you killed yourself."
[eye roll]
She continued eating, but slower and I could see her look at her arms and rub them every now and then. She was "checking for hives".
If you had a super strong allergy, wouldn't you QUICKLY question the maker of the food about the ingredients? I would!
She waited to ask Mari about the peaches until after she finished eating... Mari looked at her like she was some kind of idiot when she asked her. "Who would fry peaches???" hahahhahahhah
So, she spent the rest of the afternoon very nervous, but I wasn't conscious for it. I was in a benedryl-induced coma.
Friday was also Angela's birthday. I got her a sweater to replace the one that was stolen from her on the Love Boat the weekend before. I also rounded up as many people as I could so we could all head to the Torre to celebrate her birthday and get together one last time.
I was QUITE happy and surprised by the number of people who showed. I'd sent the invite on FB and only 20 people could receive it at once. So, obviously, some people were left out.
We botelloned (to botellon = to drink outside a bar, or in the street, it's illegal, but not enforced (like every other law here) in fact, several cop cars drove by during our party haahha.) for a while until people began getting fussy or running out of booze. It was so nice having so many of us together. There were prolly 60 or 70 people there and at a school of 100 (when people aren't on vacation) that was impressive.
We ended up at one of the bars we frequented during our first, naive weeks in Spain... On Calle Betis.
It SHOULD be called Calle Americano because there are SO many American students and English speaking bars down this one road. We didn't stay long.
We went to Buddah and pretended to be dating some random Spaniard boys to get in. FAIL.
So, we went to El Catedral. We got in right away, but were constantly hit on and this week Jenny's coat was stolen! This must be the bar where any Spanish guy who wants to get an American girl goes. Because, those were the only two kinds of people there. No Spanish women (which I THOUGHT would be a good thing).
It was a great night though. So fun.
So for now, I'm wrestling with time. Trying to soak up all the Spain I can, but thinking about my family and friends in the USA. I think I'm the only person at CC-CS that's ready to head back. I mean, my bags are 75% packed... hahaha
Only two more finals, a party, a plane ride, another plane ride, and I'm home!
Wait for me! :)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Ten Days Left... WoW
Luckily for me, it has cooled down quite a bit. It's definitely tolerable again. The decline in the temperature did not take away my tan though. My chest and arms are really dark now. I have the most insane tan lines, because I am mostly in the sun when I walk to and from school (only 2 to 3 hours of sun exposure daily... no biggie) so I get the lines from what I wear to class. I'm so tan now that my host mom is walking around calling me , "morena," it means really dark... I guess. hahah I find this so funny because she says this all the time... Including when my black roommate is around.
There is an insanely high number of tourists in the city right now. (I mean... without due cause, like Semana Santa or Feria... they're here just because). They are so easy to spot, it's ridiculous. For the record, while on vacation in Spain, never: carry a bottle of water, go to Starbucks, wear a baseball hat, speak loudly in NOT-Spanish, stop dead in your tracks and whip out a map. Thank you.
My professor Grillo has been making fun of me all week. "Did you buy those boots in Spain?"
"No."
"That's pretty obvious..."
"Thanks?"
"I like them!"
"Ah, huh..."
The class before that: "In the times Franco was in power, women couldn't wear short dresses, they always had to be longer than their knees... Cecilia, you would have been sent to jail. Also, your hair would have had to have been pulled back."
k.
I've taken note of their style and adjusted a bit to blend in more. But, I could walk around naked and not stick out more than I already do (I know I'm not the only one that sticks out, but still...)
He's the funniest professor EVER. He is just a grouchy, hilarious guy. He's making us go out to get drinks with him on the last day of class. I'm so excited. Also, he calls everything he doesn't like, "chungo," (shitty) hahahha.
On another note, I've decided I feel perfectly at home in this city now. I like the bigger city atmosphere (not that there aren't things I miss about smaller cities). But, I'm now one of those people that always crosses even though the pedestrian light is red. Or cross a road one lane at a time while the traffic rushes past.
I have had the most outrageous, almost uncontrollable urge to listen to country music lately... I have no idea why.
Random: It is outrageously popular for older women here to dye their hair a RIDICULOUS shade of highlighter red. I HATE IT. It's imppossible not to stare at their head while wondering how they managed to get the shade they did.
Here's a peek into my life with my roommate:
She'll be at the dinner table with me. We'll both be staring at our food. She'll look at her blackberry and make a sighing noise. Normally, I'd ask her what was wrong, but I don't want to get her started... Because once she starts talking, she doesn't stop. For instance, yesterday, I be sat at the table in a little sun dress with my headphones in, listening to the Spice Girls with my blond hair up in a high bun while her in her dark clothes, man's hairstyle and bad attitude rambled on about something I consider(ed) completely stupid, but she thinks will fix all the world's problems. Grr
I have been working on my school work an insane amount. I didn't go out all last weekend. Just studied. On Wed. I had to turn in a paper. On Thursday, I was supposed to turn in two papers and take two tests. And I had a meeting to go to. Insane.
My Spanish skills are now developed enough to hear the Spaniards around me have whole conversations about me. "What is she doing, going to the beach? What's with the shorts?"
Sometimes I can just let it go, but most of the time I turn around and give them a nasty look so that they know I not only heard them, but I understood them (like few Americans here could). I'm not gonna lie, though. I changed into jeans when I got back to my apartment and sweated all day while pretending to not be hot, because none of the Spaniards were.
The teens here are really weird. I've almost NEVER been hit on my a teenage boy. All of the kids here basically ignore each other unless they're best friends. Also, it's almost as though the Spanish girls with boyfriends have trained their men to do one of 2 things when a girl like me (tall, blond, American or pretty (any combination of the two and they're irresistible)) walks by: look down at the ground and pull their girl in closer, or stop and look deep into their girl's eyes and kiss them. Literally, every time I walk past a teenage couple, this is what happens.
Also, I feel bad for the American boys here. They are all totally rejected/dissed by the Spanish women. Spanish women hate HATE HATE American boys. They think they just want to have sex with them. (Which they prolly do).
I really wonder how many of them speak English. They wear shirts with the strangest phrases on them, "mile high club," "Keep your hands to myself," etc... I really really wonder if they know what they mean.
Mari needs to learn that she can't just leave food out on the counter all day. Seriously. They pasteurize their milk differently, so you actually CAN leave that out, but butter, mayo.... All that? FRIDGE.
I wanted SO BADLY to get tickets to the Barcelona v. Sevilla game. It was obvious BCN would win, which they did, but I really wanted to see them play. Messi is my new huge obsession. I had a group of people (all boys) who wanted to go with me, but when ticket prices were posted and we saw that the cheapest seats were 100 euro... we had to bail. TRAGIC.
Something occurred to me this week: How am I, as a very German person (physically, stereotypically, mentally) surviving here. Germans are SO organized and rule-oriented and Spain is basically... the opposite.
I NEED A HAIRCUT. But, if you go here, they're guaranteed to cut off at least 5 inches of my hair. They don't really listen to what you want. They cut off all they think needs to be cut off. I'm not willing to do that... So I have to wait.
This weekend was the most jam-packed of all my weekends in Seville yet. Friday we had an excursion to the monastery Columbus left from. They also took us to a place where they have models of the ships he traveled in. They were tiny, but we got to play on them. We then went to the beach. My roommate went along and secluded herself, of course. Friday night I went on a boat ride up and down the river with a bunch of kids from my school. It was fun except for the lack of bathrooms (which lead to peeing off the top deck), over served party-goers (many threw up off the bottom deck... I wonder if any of them were peed on...), and bad music (I recognized only two songs the whole night!).
We got to hang out and meet some cool people. There was a lot of drama which has made everything SO awkward between everyone that I am almost looking forward to leaving them all behind. hahah NOT ALL of them, but most. The boys mostly.
That was one of the things that kept me from wanting to go home. I kept thinking, even if I come back to Spain, it'll never be the same as it is now, I'll never be with all of these awesome people again. All of us together. Well, now I don't want us all together or a fight may break out.
Saturday I spent all the luck God's given me on one fortunate run in. After souvenir shopping for the folks at home, checking out an art fair and book fair, I was walking home and saw MESSI. My hero. OMG. I saw him in flesh and blood. And I was even super close. I had the strongest reaction. I was really surprised by how much I freaked out. I grabbed my mouth and started shaking a bunch. My heart was racing. RACING.
WOW, lucky, yes? Saw him w/o paying the 100 euro!
Also, you want a good way to reduce your number of Sevillano friends/ensure people will SPEED UP although you're in the crosswalk/get started at and talked about in the streets? Wear your BCN jersey on the game day. I wouldn't even go into the bar we were supposed to watch the game in. I was SO scared hahahah
Sunday I went to a bullfight! It was so cool. Really different than I expected but I loved it. If you look away for the last few seconds and try to think of the spears and stuff as sticky and not pointy, it's no big deal. It seriously was amazing though. So much tradition, so much culture. I got a little high off it ;)
I called my mom. I miss her. I miss my whole family. I'm ready to be home!
SO for now... I'm trying to enjoy my last days and not cry too much. hahahah
Hugs are crazy prevalent right now.
There is an insanely high number of tourists in the city right now. (I mean... without due cause, like Semana Santa or Feria... they're here just because). They are so easy to spot, it's ridiculous. For the record, while on vacation in Spain, never: carry a bottle of water, go to Starbucks, wear a baseball hat, speak loudly in NOT-Spanish, stop dead in your tracks and whip out a map. Thank you.
My professor Grillo has been making fun of me all week. "Did you buy those boots in Spain?"
"No."
"That's pretty obvious..."
"Thanks?"
"I like them!"
"Ah, huh..."
The class before that: "In the times Franco was in power, women couldn't wear short dresses, they always had to be longer than their knees... Cecilia, you would have been sent to jail. Also, your hair would have had to have been pulled back."
k.
I've taken note of their style and adjusted a bit to blend in more. But, I could walk around naked and not stick out more than I already do (I know I'm not the only one that sticks out, but still...)
He's the funniest professor EVER. He is just a grouchy, hilarious guy. He's making us go out to get drinks with him on the last day of class. I'm so excited. Also, he calls everything he doesn't like, "chungo," (shitty) hahahha.
On another note, I've decided I feel perfectly at home in this city now. I like the bigger city atmosphere (not that there aren't things I miss about smaller cities). But, I'm now one of those people that always crosses even though the pedestrian light is red. Or cross a road one lane at a time while the traffic rushes past.
I have had the most outrageous, almost uncontrollable urge to listen to country music lately... I have no idea why.
Random: It is outrageously popular for older women here to dye their hair a RIDICULOUS shade of highlighter red. I HATE IT. It's imppossible not to stare at their head while wondering how they managed to get the shade they did.
Here's a peek into my life with my roommate:
She'll be at the dinner table with me. We'll both be staring at our food. She'll look at her blackberry and make a sighing noise. Normally, I'd ask her what was wrong, but I don't want to get her started... Because once she starts talking, she doesn't stop. For instance, yesterday, I be sat at the table in a little sun dress with my headphones in, listening to the Spice Girls with my blond hair up in a high bun while her in her dark clothes, man's hairstyle and bad attitude rambled on about something I consider(ed) completely stupid, but she thinks will fix all the world's problems. Grr
I have been working on my school work an insane amount. I didn't go out all last weekend. Just studied. On Wed. I had to turn in a paper. On Thursday, I was supposed to turn in two papers and take two tests. And I had a meeting to go to. Insane.
My Spanish skills are now developed enough to hear the Spaniards around me have whole conversations about me. "What is she doing, going to the beach? What's with the shorts?"
Sometimes I can just let it go, but most of the time I turn around and give them a nasty look so that they know I not only heard them, but I understood them (like few Americans here could). I'm not gonna lie, though. I changed into jeans when I got back to my apartment and sweated all day while pretending to not be hot, because none of the Spaniards were.
The teens here are really weird. I've almost NEVER been hit on my a teenage boy. All of the kids here basically ignore each other unless they're best friends. Also, it's almost as though the Spanish girls with boyfriends have trained their men to do one of 2 things when a girl like me (tall, blond, American or pretty (any combination of the two and they're irresistible)) walks by: look down at the ground and pull their girl in closer, or stop and look deep into their girl's eyes and kiss them. Literally, every time I walk past a teenage couple, this is what happens.
Also, I feel bad for the American boys here. They are all totally rejected/dissed by the Spanish women. Spanish women hate HATE HATE American boys. They think they just want to have sex with them. (Which they prolly do).
I really wonder how many of them speak English. They wear shirts with the strangest phrases on them, "mile high club," "Keep your hands to myself," etc... I really really wonder if they know what they mean.
Mari needs to learn that she can't just leave food out on the counter all day. Seriously. They pasteurize their milk differently, so you actually CAN leave that out, but butter, mayo.... All that? FRIDGE.
I wanted SO BADLY to get tickets to the Barcelona v. Sevilla game. It was obvious BCN would win, which they did, but I really wanted to see them play. Messi is my new huge obsession. I had a group of people (all boys) who wanted to go with me, but when ticket prices were posted and we saw that the cheapest seats were 100 euro... we had to bail. TRAGIC.
Something occurred to me this week: How am I, as a very German person (physically, stereotypically, mentally) surviving here. Germans are SO organized and rule-oriented and Spain is basically... the opposite.
I NEED A HAIRCUT. But, if you go here, they're guaranteed to cut off at least 5 inches of my hair. They don't really listen to what you want. They cut off all they think needs to be cut off. I'm not willing to do that... So I have to wait.
This weekend was the most jam-packed of all my weekends in Seville yet. Friday we had an excursion to the monastery Columbus left from. They also took us to a place where they have models of the ships he traveled in. They were tiny, but we got to play on them. We then went to the beach. My roommate went along and secluded herself, of course. Friday night I went on a boat ride up and down the river with a bunch of kids from my school. It was fun except for the lack of bathrooms (which lead to peeing off the top deck), over served party-goers (many threw up off the bottom deck... I wonder if any of them were peed on...), and bad music (I recognized only two songs the whole night!).
We got to hang out and meet some cool people. There was a lot of drama which has made everything SO awkward between everyone that I am almost looking forward to leaving them all behind. hahah NOT ALL of them, but most. The boys mostly.
That was one of the things that kept me from wanting to go home. I kept thinking, even if I come back to Spain, it'll never be the same as it is now, I'll never be with all of these awesome people again. All of us together. Well, now I don't want us all together or a fight may break out.
Saturday I spent all the luck God's given me on one fortunate run in. After souvenir shopping for the folks at home, checking out an art fair and book fair, I was walking home and saw MESSI. My hero. OMG. I saw him in flesh and blood. And I was even super close. I had the strongest reaction. I was really surprised by how much I freaked out. I grabbed my mouth and started shaking a bunch. My heart was racing. RACING.
WOW, lucky, yes? Saw him w/o paying the 100 euro!
Also, you want a good way to reduce your number of Sevillano friends/ensure people will SPEED UP although you're in the crosswalk/get started at and talked about in the streets? Wear your BCN jersey on the game day. I wouldn't even go into the bar we were supposed to watch the game in. I was SO scared hahahah
Sunday I went to a bullfight! It was so cool. Really different than I expected but I loved it. If you look away for the last few seconds and try to think of the spears and stuff as sticky and not pointy, it's no big deal. It seriously was amazing though. So much tradition, so much culture. I got a little high off it ;)
I called my mom. I miss her. I miss my whole family. I'm ready to be home!
SO for now... I'm trying to enjoy my last days and not cry too much. hahahah
Hugs are crazy prevalent right now.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
T- 18 Days
I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW FEW DAYS I HAVE LEFT HERE.
I love Spain. I love America. Why can they not join forces, or something?
This week:
We had FIVE days of class, not 4. We had to make up for having a day off on a Monday (Dia de Andalucia) a few weeks ago. So, I had class on Friday until 9:30 pm.
We also had a school-wide test on Friday. Every student had to take it.
I normally get up at 10 am, but for this test I had to get up at 7. I slept thru my alarm and woke up, without an alarm, at 10 haha. I found my apartment empty, which means my roommate didn't bother to wake me EVEN THOUGH she knew I had to take the test, too. Grr
I cannot believe the amount of work they've given us these last few weeks. I've had almost NO HW the entire time I've been here and now I have 3 papers to do, a presentation to prepare, a test to study for and finals in two weeks!
What the......
Monday was the day we got back from Rome. I took a nap on a desk at school and managed to feel perky all day despite staying up almost all night.
IDK what I've been doing differently this week, but the old men are loving it. I got hit on TWICE in one day by men who needed canes to walk. TWO.
There IS nothing, "hotter than the sun in the South of Spain". It's almost unbearable. I thought I was gonna faint on my way to school on Monday. I got tan lines on Tuesday. It's the kind of hot that makes you not wanna breathe. It's the same feeling as when you walk behind a car that's been running AND it's a hot day.
They've turned out a lot of the lights at our school... I think they're trying to trick us into thinking it's cooler than it is.
They make the streets here really narrow so there are a lot of shadows. There's almost no AC, they just keep their windows shut all day and crack them a little at night. This lets in the mosquitoes.
I have friends who are putting on bug spray before they crawl into bed because they have bites all up and down their arms. And I subject myself to their cruelty by laying on my bed w/o sheets (because it's too hot to use them!)
It's hard to think, sleep, concentrate. It's JUST so HOT!
I'm starting to think that the dream I had before I came here about the fan was a premonition, not just happenstance.
On Wednesday we caught a break in my Politics class. I got an 88% on my test (miracle) and we only had an hour of class because Grillo wanted to catch the BCN game. SO DID WE. We hit up Flaherty's for the first half.
I helped people with finding places TWICE this week. Two women, two days in a row. Alright.
I actually spoke to my roommate this week. Every time you get her going, you can't stop it. So Friday night we fought about politics and religion for 2 hours. It ended with me asking, "you're just convinced I'm stupid aren't you?"
So, I've been meaning to mention this, because it just doesn't get any more "Spain" than this:
There are these protesters that are rallying at a spot in my route to school. They started right before Semana Santa and they're still there. Semana Santa is not a good time for something like this. When you're a part of a protest, you want to demonstrate how many people are a part of your group, the size that's affected by the issue. Semana Santa is the week that more people are in this city than any other week. This DWARFS their (relatively decent sized group) due to comparison. Also, everyday there seems to be less of them. Even if it's just one less. They still cat call women. They take a siesta. I'm not sure what kind of message they're trying to send, but it doesn't say "concrete resistance" to me.
Another fun fact: When I get back to the US, please do not get mad when I talk over you for the first few weeks. In Spain, it's necessary to talk over people because there are not "pauses" to interject into a conversation. That's just how it is. If you wait for a "pause" they'll prolly think you're "slow". All of this will prolly be going on at a high volume and the TV will be playing in the background.
I will also prolly cut you off while walking and take an extra second to return a smile. Then, stand way too close to you. a.k.a. I'm sorry in advance for how annoying I'll be. hahaha
Welcome to Spain. :)
Random: a few weeks ago I went into the main office to talk with Michelle and I SWEAR I saw Mamen, her secretary, reading my blog. Hi, Mamen!
I basically mad myself look like an idiot on Thursday....
I was walking to school and not paying too much attention to the pigeon on the ground to my right. But, then it started to walk into my path. I hate birds. I hate them so much. So when I realized this bird was gonna get scared of me walking at it and flap its wings everywhere and scare ME, I freaked out. I would have sworn it was flying right into me when it took off. The wings were flapping and I let out a little yelp and shielded my chest and face with my arms.
Good news: It didn't even touch me
Bad news: I was on the busiest road that I take to get to school and now half of the street was looking at me. I was all alone, so I couldn't just laugh it off with a friend. I was watched until I turned the corner at the cathedral, I swear hahaha
I made myself look like a total ass a second time. One of the girls I've consistently seen all semester and been friendly with was talking about PRISM, a program SMC uses for scheduling. When I heard this I said, "wait... you don't go to SMC..."
She replied, "Are you kidding? I lived across the hall from you last semester!"
Bien hecho ;)
I smelled like fish all Tuesday because Mari left shrimp out to thaw and with the heat added, it stunk up the whole apartment.
I have to alter my route to school from now on. I made the mistake of smiling at an African man who directs cars where to park at a corner I walk by everyday. When he saw me smile he approached me and asked me for "a present" and if I'd put my iPod headphone to his ear. NO. No no no no no
The very next day an Italian man stopped me while I was walking to ask me if I was an "Espanola" or not. YOU KIDDING ME? Do I look ANYTHING like one??
I think the heat is already starting to get to some people. I remember when it finally stopped raining, after that crazy long raining spree, and the sun came out, all the Spaniards were laying around parks and benches like lizards trying to soak up their long lost sun. Now, it's gotten worse. Men are walking around with their shirts completely unbuttoned, one homeless man is ever walking around town with a cup in his hand and "singing" for money. What he's really doing is ruining music for me.
Mom, I can't wait till this summer. You'll prolly try to get to me go on a low-carb diet with you. And in the past, I've never had that "crash" right in the beginning from the lack of carbs... I'd like to see me try it now. Not only will I prolly try to pair ALL of my foods with bread, I bet the "crash" will kill me. I even asked Mari if she's ever heard of a low-carb diet. I said, "have you ever heard of a diet in which you don't eat bread or wheat or pasta or...."
"QUE COMES??" (WHAT DO YOU EAT?) hahahha she was appalled.
So for now, I'll be doing a whole lot of work. I'm going to TRY to balance this incredible amount of work with getting some fun in before I leave...
We'll see!
I love Spain. I love America. Why can they not join forces, or something?
This week:
We had FIVE days of class, not 4. We had to make up for having a day off on a Monday (Dia de Andalucia) a few weeks ago. So, I had class on Friday until 9:30 pm.
We also had a school-wide test on Friday. Every student had to take it.
I normally get up at 10 am, but for this test I had to get up at 7. I slept thru my alarm and woke up, without an alarm, at 10 haha. I found my apartment empty, which means my roommate didn't bother to wake me EVEN THOUGH she knew I had to take the test, too. Grr
I cannot believe the amount of work they've given us these last few weeks. I've had almost NO HW the entire time I've been here and now I have 3 papers to do, a presentation to prepare, a test to study for and finals in two weeks!
What the......
Monday was the day we got back from Rome. I took a nap on a desk at school and managed to feel perky all day despite staying up almost all night.
IDK what I've been doing differently this week, but the old men are loving it. I got hit on TWICE in one day by men who needed canes to walk. TWO.
There IS nothing, "hotter than the sun in the South of Spain". It's almost unbearable. I thought I was gonna faint on my way to school on Monday. I got tan lines on Tuesday. It's the kind of hot that makes you not wanna breathe. It's the same feeling as when you walk behind a car that's been running AND it's a hot day.
They've turned out a lot of the lights at our school... I think they're trying to trick us into thinking it's cooler than it is.
They make the streets here really narrow so there are a lot of shadows. There's almost no AC, they just keep their windows shut all day and crack them a little at night. This lets in the mosquitoes.
I have friends who are putting on bug spray before they crawl into bed because they have bites all up and down their arms. And I subject myself to their cruelty by laying on my bed w/o sheets (because it's too hot to use them!)
It's hard to think, sleep, concentrate. It's JUST so HOT!
I'm starting to think that the dream I had before I came here about the fan was a premonition, not just happenstance.
On Wednesday we caught a break in my Politics class. I got an 88% on my test (miracle) and we only had an hour of class because Grillo wanted to catch the BCN game. SO DID WE. We hit up Flaherty's for the first half.
I helped people with finding places TWICE this week. Two women, two days in a row. Alright.
I actually spoke to my roommate this week. Every time you get her going, you can't stop it. So Friday night we fought about politics and religion for 2 hours. It ended with me asking, "you're just convinced I'm stupid aren't you?"
So, I've been meaning to mention this, because it just doesn't get any more "Spain" than this:
There are these protesters that are rallying at a spot in my route to school. They started right before Semana Santa and they're still there. Semana Santa is not a good time for something like this. When you're a part of a protest, you want to demonstrate how many people are a part of your group, the size that's affected by the issue. Semana Santa is the week that more people are in this city than any other week. This DWARFS their (relatively decent sized group) due to comparison. Also, everyday there seems to be less of them. Even if it's just one less. They still cat call women. They take a siesta. I'm not sure what kind of message they're trying to send, but it doesn't say "concrete resistance" to me.
Another fun fact: When I get back to the US, please do not get mad when I talk over you for the first few weeks. In Spain, it's necessary to talk over people because there are not "pauses" to interject into a conversation. That's just how it is. If you wait for a "pause" they'll prolly think you're "slow". All of this will prolly be going on at a high volume and the TV will be playing in the background.
I will also prolly cut you off while walking and take an extra second to return a smile. Then, stand way too close to you. a.k.a. I'm sorry in advance for how annoying I'll be. hahaha
Welcome to Spain. :)
Random: a few weeks ago I went into the main office to talk with Michelle and I SWEAR I saw Mamen, her secretary, reading my blog. Hi, Mamen!
I basically mad myself look like an idiot on Thursday....
I was walking to school and not paying too much attention to the pigeon on the ground to my right. But, then it started to walk into my path. I hate birds. I hate them so much. So when I realized this bird was gonna get scared of me walking at it and flap its wings everywhere and scare ME, I freaked out. I would have sworn it was flying right into me when it took off. The wings were flapping and I let out a little yelp and shielded my chest and face with my arms.
Good news: It didn't even touch me
Bad news: I was on the busiest road that I take to get to school and now half of the street was looking at me. I was all alone, so I couldn't just laugh it off with a friend. I was watched until I turned the corner at the cathedral, I swear hahaha
I made myself look like a total ass a second time. One of the girls I've consistently seen all semester and been friendly with was talking about PRISM, a program SMC uses for scheduling. When I heard this I said, "wait... you don't go to SMC..."
She replied, "Are you kidding? I lived across the hall from you last semester!"
Bien hecho ;)
I smelled like fish all Tuesday because Mari left shrimp out to thaw and with the heat added, it stunk up the whole apartment.
I have to alter my route to school from now on. I made the mistake of smiling at an African man who directs cars where to park at a corner I walk by everyday. When he saw me smile he approached me and asked me for "a present" and if I'd put my iPod headphone to his ear. NO. No no no no no
The very next day an Italian man stopped me while I was walking to ask me if I was an "Espanola" or not. YOU KIDDING ME? Do I look ANYTHING like one??
I think the heat is already starting to get to some people. I remember when it finally stopped raining, after that crazy long raining spree, and the sun came out, all the Spaniards were laying around parks and benches like lizards trying to soak up their long lost sun. Now, it's gotten worse. Men are walking around with their shirts completely unbuttoned, one homeless man is ever walking around town with a cup in his hand and "singing" for money. What he's really doing is ruining music for me.
Mom, I can't wait till this summer. You'll prolly try to get to me go on a low-carb diet with you. And in the past, I've never had that "crash" right in the beginning from the lack of carbs... I'd like to see me try it now. Not only will I prolly try to pair ALL of my foods with bread, I bet the "crash" will kill me. I even asked Mari if she's ever heard of a low-carb diet. I said, "have you ever heard of a diet in which you don't eat bread or wheat or pasta or...."
"QUE COMES??" (WHAT DO YOU EAT?) hahahha she was appalled.
So for now, I'll be doing a whole lot of work. I'm going to TRY to balance this incredible amount of work with getting some fun in before I leave...
We'll see!
Rome if You Want To
SO, Rome. It's a pretty cool city, no? Yes.
Unfortunately for me, this was the last big trip of my stay in Europe. Bittersweet, to say the least. But it's nice to know I won't have to keep asking myself, "do I wanna take advantage of every moment I have in this city, or do I want to get some sleep and not be tired all week?"
But, it was prolly the best trip yet. I went with Angela, Amanda Hillman, Stephanie McGrane, Elizabeth Martini and Katie Adams. It's good to travel in even numbers.
Let's see... We started off the trip in Sevilla. We took a train ride in the afternoon (2 hrs.) to Malaga. We passed the most incredible sights on the way and Malaga was gorgeous. It took us a while to find the bus stop of the bus that would take us from the train station to the airport (30 min. ride). (We did a lot of trains and planes and cabs and buses this trip because it was significantly cheaper than taking a direct flight to Rome).
When we got to the airport, we realized we were very lucky for having decided earlier to give ourselves a lot of extra travel time during the day, because all of our transportation was taking longer than it was supposed to, Angela forgot her boarding pass, we had to wait in the longest, slowest lines of all time and we weren't moving fast in general.
When we got to the airport, we realized we weren't as lucky as we'd thought. Our flight was delayed. Two hours. They did not, however, communicate this information to whoever updates the boards that indicate which flights leave from which gates. So, when we were left with 15 minutes till takeoff and the board said, "Now Boarding" for our flight, we were a little freaked out that there was still no gate listed.
The six of us hung out in a random terminal right by an Upper Crust (a random restaurant with, what we found to be, a hilarious name). We then annoyed some Germans by slaughtering their language while joking around and trying to read the signs written in German that were all around the airport. So awkward. So worth it.
Miracle in terminal A28: I only had to go thru the metal detectors ONCE during the security checks for this trip! Yet, my contact solution did not make the journey. I half-heartedly argued with the woman that said I couldn't bring it.
"It's medicine."
"It is??"
"Well, I mean, kinda...!"
I was just upset because it was almost completely full, but I had another in Spain, so it wasn't my last container or anything.
On the plane, we all actually managed to sit really close to each other, after a few slight adjustments and this ALL does not include Katie (she was about 6 rows ahead all alone). We had some FREAKY turbulence. I was worried. It was the roughest ride I've ever had on a plane.
The WHOLE plane situation freaked us all out the WHOLE TRIP though. We'd heard nothing but horror stories all week about people getting stuck in random countries because their flights were canceled as a result of the volcano eruption. So we assumed, that, ya, that's pretty much our kind of luck. We were almost certain we'd get stranded somewhere on our way back.
We landed in Rome late. I think it was midnight. We were supposed to take a train to a station that was literally a two minute's walk from our hostel. We were warned to be cautious with our things, that the gypsies were big on thieving.
As a veteran in the pick-pocketing world, I was walking around the station with my bag pressed straight against my chest, with empty pockets and darting eyes. I don't think any of us found it strange that we were alone in the station until about 5 minutes later. The station had closed.
Cool.
Because when combined, our Italian vocabulary summed up to about 14 words. We left the station to find a man with taxi's behind him, that seemed to be waiting for us. He told us he could get us a super cheap taxi directly to our hostel, and it would only cost 2 euro more than the train. Sweet.
NO. Not sweet.
I was already feeling sick from the bumpy flight to Rome, and now this man had put me into bat-outta-Hell cab.
Three of us were in this cab and we were all very nervous. We couldn't even take in much of those first sights of the city because our eyes hardly left the needle on the speedometer. He was FLYING down the streets. And we were never quite sure of which lane he was a part of.
But, we made it. Our hostel was in a decent area of town and the men behind the desk were more than accommodating, knowledgeably and kind. We were walked to our building (there were 3 of them) and then to our room.
And what a room it was: clean sheets (that we didn't have to rent), new carpet and paint, TV, MINI FRIDGE!!! We couldn't believe it. Once he left the room we just paced around the room geeking out for about 5 minutes. But, we were starving (which makes sense considering it was about 1am) so we went to a pizzeria between our hostel and the main building.
The man who worked there seemed to think we'd seen his menu before arriving, because from the moment we walked in, all we heard was, "Yes, what you like? Now you! You like? What you want?"
PUSHY
We thoroughly enjoyed our food and drink and discussed the two day tour we'd signed up for that night. According to the men at the front desk, we could see everything in just those two days.
Then, we crashed into bed.
We had breakfast the next day in the main building of our hostel and got to take showers in the PRIVATE bathrooms on our floor.
Our tour started at 10, so we didn't even have to get up super early. The tour guide's name was Bob. He was the physical equivalent of my youngest brother Evan, but stretched out and aged a few years.
Bob loved history. He was also Irish. Bob liked to pretend he hadn't given this same tour a million times before. So Bob would pretend to search for words to describe things, when he already knew what he was going to say. This got old REALLY fast.
There was the six of us, a Malaysian named Danny, a Brazilian named Paula, and a Brit named Lisa. We all got on very well, except for Danny, the only guy, he was really quiet.
We followed Bob like little ducklings through the rolling, winding streets of Rome as he gave his awkward, yet intelligent shpeel. When we were in front of the Pantheon, a little boy that was part of a large group of young students grabbed Amanda's butt!
He just gave her a devious little smile as she tried to get over her shock. When she told me about it, I looked over my shoulder searching for the perpetrator.
"Oh, I see him. Look at him. So smug, acting like he didn't to anything wrong."
"He didn't. Cece, that's not the right kid."
"I bet he learned that from his father, girls. Just imagine how bad his dad is!" (Bob)
We took a break after seeing the Forum, Mary Major, the Colosseum, Pantheon, and many other hot spots, to have lunch at a place Bob picked out. The waitress was again, very pushy, but somehow really nice at the same time. Our tour was technically over, but Bob kept walking us around and telling us about the things we saw.
Later, we went shopping. I needed face wash and not knowing Italian made this errand take about 15 times longer than it normally would have. The lady that worked at the shop kept handing me some product by Garnier and I kept saying, "NO, for. my. face!"
I DIDN'T KNOW THEY MADE STUFF FOR YOUR FACE TOOoo
The rain had let up in the afternoon and it was actually pretty nice out. We got free pizza at our hostel for dinner (threw some bows to get it), went grocery shopping (where I saw a man pocket a mini-bag of chips and leave. random, but ok.), then we hung out in the room all night.
Saturday was the day we saw everything else that was a "must-see". It was rainy again but we were mostly inside anyways.
When we got to the Vatican, we had to wait in line to get it. But, while in line I saw something SO CUTE, I had to write it down so I'd remember to mention it:
There was a group of teenage-ish boys that were in line, but a little ways away because they were trying to get a picture. I didn't think anything of it at first, because EVERYONE was taking pictures haha. But they caught my eye again a moment later because the boy getting his picture taken was holding up a sign. It said, "Be my date to prom? -Max" I almost let a girly squeal out, it was so sweet! hahah How original! With the Vatican's dome in the background and everything.
The Vatican left nothing wanting. It was beyond incredible. Just amazing. I wanted to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling for weeks. There are no words.
We had lunch again, but without Bob. We went to the Vatican museum (the only place we had to pay to go into... We were lucky enough to decide to go to Rome on a national holiday weekend, so every other museum was FREE!!)
We saw the Sistine Chapel, but couldn't take pictures. Lame.
Not to be a snob, but I actually almost didn't like it. The colors were inconsistent, the women in the paintings were SO masculine and other than the fact it's the Pope's private chapel and it's so famous, I didn't find it special.
We went to the Spanish steps, Trevi fountain and other things on our own. This rounded out everything we'd wanted to see while in Rome and we still had more than a half a day the next day. So, we went on a pub crawl that night.
Fun FUN FUNNN!
The people who worked there were SO nice, we me the most interesting people and danced the night away. Then, PIZZA (for free)!
The next morning, I had an awkward encounter. After waiting for a bathroom to open up for several minutes, I decided I should wait directly outside of them so no one could jump in front of me.
TEN MINUTES LATER, I was still waiting and another girl walked up behind me. She left but came almost immediately back. She was fat. She was foreign. She was in her underwear.
I took an immediate disliking to her.
Few minutes later, I heard a bathroom door opening. I slowly started standing up and saw the fat girl jump in front of me.
Oh, no. Not THIS morning. It was ON.
As a girl exited the bathroom, I looked at the fat girl standing between me and my well-deserved prize for waiting SO patiently, the bathroom, with annoyance.
She looked at me and I frowned back. My expression asked the obvious question, "What do you think you're doing?"
"You see," she said with her accent, "my friend was in here before you, so I'm going to use this one. You can use the next one when it opens.... [my expression didn't change] Do you understand?" I think she was asking in a way that doubted my English speaking.
"NO!"
"Well," we said as she moved half of her huge ass into to door frame itself, "there is one shower on this floor for each room on this floor."
"There are 2 bathrooms and 4 hostel rooms. No."
"Well, I've been waiting so long... And I'm in a room of four..."
"I'm in a room of SIX! And I was here long before you."
[She gave me a look that told me there was nothing I could do to change her mind. She gave me the eyes of a person that knew they were about to really piss someone off, but didn't care enough to keep from doing it anyway. ]
"Whatever."
When the other bathroom opened it was Amanda who walked out, so I loudly told her the audacity of what had just happened. I think I steamed up the bathroom more than my shower's hot water.
I then repeated my story to my roommates loudly, with the door open. I recall mentioning her size and the fact in the end I, "feel bad for HER, because SHE has to go back to her stupid country and I get to go back to the United States of AMERICA!"
The looks I got from her friends during our free breakfast told me she'd heard me ranting. I'm still unsure whether or not I feel bad about this yet.
Angela, Stephanie and I went to the zoo for fun and had a great time afterward at lunch too. I had a glass of red wine that I really didn't like...
Later that day it was time to leave Rome. We were a little late leaving the hostel and missed the first train to the airport. Great.
Another one came a half hour later though.
We ended up making it to the plane on time and I'm pretty sure all of us slept, because we were in for a long night.
The security check at the Rome airport kept us laughing all night: a little boy had thrown up in the lines for the metal detectors. His mother must have been too worried about her kid's health to let any of the airport staff know, so that they might get it cleaned up. All she did was place a white little napkin (completely unfolded, almost sheer) over the pile of vomit. Much to my disgust, we all then had to pass it and take caution to not roll our suitcases through it or step in it. I guess the people behind us weren't paying enough attention to notice any of this had happened, so they didn't know to look out for it. Person after person. Line after line. People strolled through the puke without the knowledge of its presence. We were too far away to warn them, but close enough to laugh until tears filled our eyes as we watched the line progress and the throw up get smeared farther and farther down the aisle. A little while later, it was still hilarious, and people were still oblivious. Until, a foreign woman with beautiful strappy sandals looked down at her feet and said, "Ooooh! Es vomito!!"
We were rollinnnnnnnggg!
In an effort to save money, we'd decided NOT to buy a hotel or hostel room in Malaga for the hours on Monday morning between 1am (when we landed in Malaga) and 6am (when we left for the train station.)
This left us with 5 fun filled hours in the airport shanty towning it.
We hung out by Upper Crust, rode the moving sidewalks the wrong way, and did a bunch of other little things we've always wanted to do but never had an empty airport to ourselves to do it in!
When we finally left, the guards at the door looked really confused. It was just the six of us leaving and no planes had landed in hours. They asked Katie where we'd come from. Katie looked nervous and then at Stephanie. Stephanie and the other girls were in front of me and none seemed able to speak. I stuck my head in and said, "Roma," and pulled my head back.
They asked us when we'd landed. We said about 5.5 hours ago, but we'd been hanging at Upper Crust.
They seemed to understand.
We called taxis and got a text from the company a few minutes later saying they were there. We looked around but didn't see them. I'd been very specific on the phone about where we were. We got nervous and ran up to the "departures" area to see if they were up there. We could see from that third story level that our cabs were pulling up. To keep them from leaving us, we sprinted back downstairs to get to them. We made it.
We got on our train, got to Seville, took our buses to our apartments and went straight to class.
Great trip
Unfortunately for me, this was the last big trip of my stay in Europe. Bittersweet, to say the least. But it's nice to know I won't have to keep asking myself, "do I wanna take advantage of every moment I have in this city, or do I want to get some sleep and not be tired all week?"
But, it was prolly the best trip yet. I went with Angela, Amanda Hillman, Stephanie McGrane, Elizabeth Martini and Katie Adams. It's good to travel in even numbers.
Let's see... We started off the trip in Sevilla. We took a train ride in the afternoon (2 hrs.) to Malaga. We passed the most incredible sights on the way and Malaga was gorgeous. It took us a while to find the bus stop of the bus that would take us from the train station to the airport (30 min. ride). (We did a lot of trains and planes and cabs and buses this trip because it was significantly cheaper than taking a direct flight to Rome).
When we got to the airport, we realized we were very lucky for having decided earlier to give ourselves a lot of extra travel time during the day, because all of our transportation was taking longer than it was supposed to, Angela forgot her boarding pass, we had to wait in the longest, slowest lines of all time and we weren't moving fast in general.
When we got to the airport, we realized we weren't as lucky as we'd thought. Our flight was delayed. Two hours. They did not, however, communicate this information to whoever updates the boards that indicate which flights leave from which gates. So, when we were left with 15 minutes till takeoff and the board said, "Now Boarding" for our flight, we were a little freaked out that there was still no gate listed.
The six of us hung out in a random terminal right by an Upper Crust (a random restaurant with, what we found to be, a hilarious name). We then annoyed some Germans by slaughtering their language while joking around and trying to read the signs written in German that were all around the airport. So awkward. So worth it.
Miracle in terminal A28: I only had to go thru the metal detectors ONCE during the security checks for this trip! Yet, my contact solution did not make the journey. I half-heartedly argued with the woman that said I couldn't bring it.
"It's medicine."
"It is??"
"Well, I mean, kinda...!"
I was just upset because it was almost completely full, but I had another in Spain, so it wasn't my last container or anything.
On the plane, we all actually managed to sit really close to each other, after a few slight adjustments and this ALL does not include Katie (she was about 6 rows ahead all alone). We had some FREAKY turbulence. I was worried. It was the roughest ride I've ever had on a plane.
The WHOLE plane situation freaked us all out the WHOLE TRIP though. We'd heard nothing but horror stories all week about people getting stuck in random countries because their flights were canceled as a result of the volcano eruption. So we assumed, that, ya, that's pretty much our kind of luck. We were almost certain we'd get stranded somewhere on our way back.
We landed in Rome late. I think it was midnight. We were supposed to take a train to a station that was literally a two minute's walk from our hostel. We were warned to be cautious with our things, that the gypsies were big on thieving.
As a veteran in the pick-pocketing world, I was walking around the station with my bag pressed straight against my chest, with empty pockets and darting eyes. I don't think any of us found it strange that we were alone in the station until about 5 minutes later. The station had closed.
Cool.
Because when combined, our Italian vocabulary summed up to about 14 words. We left the station to find a man with taxi's behind him, that seemed to be waiting for us. He told us he could get us a super cheap taxi directly to our hostel, and it would only cost 2 euro more than the train. Sweet.
NO. Not sweet.
I was already feeling sick from the bumpy flight to Rome, and now this man had put me into bat-outta-Hell cab.
Three of us were in this cab and we were all very nervous. We couldn't even take in much of those first sights of the city because our eyes hardly left the needle on the speedometer. He was FLYING down the streets. And we were never quite sure of which lane he was a part of.
But, we made it. Our hostel was in a decent area of town and the men behind the desk were more than accommodating, knowledgeably and kind. We were walked to our building (there were 3 of them) and then to our room.
And what a room it was: clean sheets (that we didn't have to rent), new carpet and paint, TV, MINI FRIDGE!!! We couldn't believe it. Once he left the room we just paced around the room geeking out for about 5 minutes. But, we were starving (which makes sense considering it was about 1am) so we went to a pizzeria between our hostel and the main building.
The man who worked there seemed to think we'd seen his menu before arriving, because from the moment we walked in, all we heard was, "Yes, what you like? Now you! You like? What you want?"
PUSHY
We thoroughly enjoyed our food and drink and discussed the two day tour we'd signed up for that night. According to the men at the front desk, we could see everything in just those two days.
Then, we crashed into bed.
We had breakfast the next day in the main building of our hostel and got to take showers in the PRIVATE bathrooms on our floor.
Our tour started at 10, so we didn't even have to get up super early. The tour guide's name was Bob. He was the physical equivalent of my youngest brother Evan, but stretched out and aged a few years.
Bob loved history. He was also Irish. Bob liked to pretend he hadn't given this same tour a million times before. So Bob would pretend to search for words to describe things, when he already knew what he was going to say. This got old REALLY fast.
There was the six of us, a Malaysian named Danny, a Brazilian named Paula, and a Brit named Lisa. We all got on very well, except for Danny, the only guy, he was really quiet.
We followed Bob like little ducklings through the rolling, winding streets of Rome as he gave his awkward, yet intelligent shpeel. When we were in front of the Pantheon, a little boy that was part of a large group of young students grabbed Amanda's butt!
He just gave her a devious little smile as she tried to get over her shock. When she told me about it, I looked over my shoulder searching for the perpetrator.
"Oh, I see him. Look at him. So smug, acting like he didn't to anything wrong."
"He didn't. Cece, that's not the right kid."
"I bet he learned that from his father, girls. Just imagine how bad his dad is!" (Bob)
We took a break after seeing the Forum, Mary Major, the Colosseum, Pantheon, and many other hot spots, to have lunch at a place Bob picked out. The waitress was again, very pushy, but somehow really nice at the same time. Our tour was technically over, but Bob kept walking us around and telling us about the things we saw.
Later, we went shopping. I needed face wash and not knowing Italian made this errand take about 15 times longer than it normally would have. The lady that worked at the shop kept handing me some product by Garnier and I kept saying, "NO, for. my. face!"
I DIDN'T KNOW THEY MADE STUFF FOR YOUR FACE TOOoo
The rain had let up in the afternoon and it was actually pretty nice out. We got free pizza at our hostel for dinner (threw some bows to get it), went grocery shopping (where I saw a man pocket a mini-bag of chips and leave. random, but ok.), then we hung out in the room all night.
Saturday was the day we saw everything else that was a "must-see". It was rainy again but we were mostly inside anyways.
When we got to the Vatican, we had to wait in line to get it. But, while in line I saw something SO CUTE, I had to write it down so I'd remember to mention it:
There was a group of teenage-ish boys that were in line, but a little ways away because they were trying to get a picture. I didn't think anything of it at first, because EVERYONE was taking pictures haha. But they caught my eye again a moment later because the boy getting his picture taken was holding up a sign. It said, "Be my date to prom? -Max" I almost let a girly squeal out, it was so sweet! hahah How original! With the Vatican's dome in the background and everything.
The Vatican left nothing wanting. It was beyond incredible. Just amazing. I wanted to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling for weeks. There are no words.
We had lunch again, but without Bob. We went to the Vatican museum (the only place we had to pay to go into... We were lucky enough to decide to go to Rome on a national holiday weekend, so every other museum was FREE!!)
We saw the Sistine Chapel, but couldn't take pictures. Lame.
Not to be a snob, but I actually almost didn't like it. The colors were inconsistent, the women in the paintings were SO masculine and other than the fact it's the Pope's private chapel and it's so famous, I didn't find it special.
We went to the Spanish steps, Trevi fountain and other things on our own. This rounded out everything we'd wanted to see while in Rome and we still had more than a half a day the next day. So, we went on a pub crawl that night.
Fun FUN FUNNN!
The people who worked there were SO nice, we me the most interesting people and danced the night away. Then, PIZZA (for free)!
The next morning, I had an awkward encounter. After waiting for a bathroom to open up for several minutes, I decided I should wait directly outside of them so no one could jump in front of me.
TEN MINUTES LATER, I was still waiting and another girl walked up behind me. She left but came almost immediately back. She was fat. She was foreign. She was in her underwear.
I took an immediate disliking to her.
Few minutes later, I heard a bathroom door opening. I slowly started standing up and saw the fat girl jump in front of me.
Oh, no. Not THIS morning. It was ON.
As a girl exited the bathroom, I looked at the fat girl standing between me and my well-deserved prize for waiting SO patiently, the bathroom, with annoyance.
She looked at me and I frowned back. My expression asked the obvious question, "What do you think you're doing?"
"You see," she said with her accent, "my friend was in here before you, so I'm going to use this one. You can use the next one when it opens.... [my expression didn't change] Do you understand?" I think she was asking in a way that doubted my English speaking.
"NO!"
"Well," we said as she moved half of her huge ass into to door frame itself, "there is one shower on this floor for each room on this floor."
"There are 2 bathrooms and 4 hostel rooms. No."
"Well, I've been waiting so long... And I'm in a room of four..."
"I'm in a room of SIX! And I was here long before you."
[She gave me a look that told me there was nothing I could do to change her mind. She gave me the eyes of a person that knew they were about to really piss someone off, but didn't care enough to keep from doing it anyway. ]
"Whatever."
When the other bathroom opened it was Amanda who walked out, so I loudly told her the audacity of what had just happened. I think I steamed up the bathroom more than my shower's hot water.
I then repeated my story to my roommates loudly, with the door open. I recall mentioning her size and the fact in the end I, "feel bad for HER, because SHE has to go back to her stupid country and I get to go back to the United States of AMERICA!"
The looks I got from her friends during our free breakfast told me she'd heard me ranting. I'm still unsure whether or not I feel bad about this yet.
Angela, Stephanie and I went to the zoo for fun and had a great time afterward at lunch too. I had a glass of red wine that I really didn't like...
Later that day it was time to leave Rome. We were a little late leaving the hostel and missed the first train to the airport. Great.
Another one came a half hour later though.
We ended up making it to the plane on time and I'm pretty sure all of us slept, because we were in for a long night.
The security check at the Rome airport kept us laughing all night: a little boy had thrown up in the lines for the metal detectors. His mother must have been too worried about her kid's health to let any of the airport staff know, so that they might get it cleaned up. All she did was place a white little napkin (completely unfolded, almost sheer) over the pile of vomit. Much to my disgust, we all then had to pass it and take caution to not roll our suitcases through it or step in it. I guess the people behind us weren't paying enough attention to notice any of this had happened, so they didn't know to look out for it. Person after person. Line after line. People strolled through the puke without the knowledge of its presence. We were too far away to warn them, but close enough to laugh until tears filled our eyes as we watched the line progress and the throw up get smeared farther and farther down the aisle. A little while later, it was still hilarious, and people were still oblivious. Until, a foreign woman with beautiful strappy sandals looked down at her feet and said, "Ooooh! Es vomito!!"
We were rollinnnnnnnggg!
In an effort to save money, we'd decided NOT to buy a hotel or hostel room in Malaga for the hours on Monday morning between 1am (when we landed in Malaga) and 6am (when we left for the train station.)
This left us with 5 fun filled hours in the airport shanty towning it.
We hung out by Upper Crust, rode the moving sidewalks the wrong way, and did a bunch of other little things we've always wanted to do but never had an empty airport to ourselves to do it in!
When we finally left, the guards at the door looked really confused. It was just the six of us leaving and no planes had landed in hours. They asked Katie where we'd come from. Katie looked nervous and then at Stephanie. Stephanie and the other girls were in front of me and none seemed able to speak. I stuck my head in and said, "Roma," and pulled my head back.
They asked us when we'd landed. We said about 5.5 hours ago, but we'd been hanging at Upper Crust.
They seemed to understand.
We called taxis and got a text from the company a few minutes later saying they were there. We looked around but didn't see them. I'd been very specific on the phone about where we were. We got nervous and ran up to the "departures" area to see if they were up there. We could see from that third story level that our cabs were pulling up. To keep them from leaving us, we sprinted back downstairs to get to them. We made it.
We got on our train, got to Seville, took our buses to our apartments and went straight to class.
Great trip
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
