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
Friday, April 30, 2010
Feria
So I think it's about time I talk about Feria considering it was over a week ago.
Seville has this every year. Everyone gets super dressed up because it's basically their prom.
It's nothing more than a celebration of Seville. But, people from all over the country and world come to help Sevillanos out with it. All the women wear their Flamenco dresses and the men wear their finest suits.
They all go to this area of town called "Los Remedios" and there are HUGE tents for BLOCKS AND BLOCKS. Then, when you reach the end of the tents, there is an area of amusement park attractions. (Warning: there are no safety reg.s on these things, so it could be the ride of (the end of) your life.)
On Monday night we left at about 10 to see them light up the portal/HUGE DOOR that lets you enter Los Remedios. The lights and door are in the shape of the NO8DO sign. no8do is the symbol of Seville. "madeja" = 8 and the "no" and "do" start and stop a phrase that the symbol means. When you put it all together it says: no me ha dejado. This means, "she has not left me" referring to the help of the Virgin Mary.
Anyways, the tents are really only for the people who own them. You have to KNOW people.
We know NO one. We got stuck in the SUPER crowded and kind of gross public tents. STILL A BLAST.
We walked through the streets lined with the enormous, beautifully lit tents and listened to the Feria music each one played. We watched the women pass in their expensive, ornate dresses and stop in the tents to dance their traditional dances. We ate the fried fish and churros that are customary to this event. I did NOT, unfortunately, try the rebujito or manzanilla, both of which are drinks that are almost only served during this time of the year. This fair goes all day and almost all night, only stopping so it can be cleaned-up for the next day.
The weather was supposed to be awful, but, ella "no me ha dejado" and the weather was GORGEOUS.
Everything went super bien "very well". Until I had to get back home.
The taxis were charging an arm and a leg. because they could get away with it, and the bus drivers were on strike, so since I surely wasn't WALKING home, I was stuck with taking the metro. The stop was easy to find, but I'd forgotten my card. So, I had to pay. I had NO idea how to work the stupid machines that you buy the tickets from. So, I asked the man who was STARING at me for help (I figured he'd be on my side). He got me my ticket and walked me to the tracks. Normally, I'd find a way to get away from such a creeper, but there were SO many people around I knew he couldn't pull anything.
He and I talked for the duration of my wait for the metro. When it DID come, there was NO room for people to board. It was way too full. People on people, shoulder to shoulder, butt to butt, face to face.
Somehow, this man and his brother pushed myself and themselves into the ONLY available room there was (they seemed to create it from nothing). We weren't sure our noses would clear the closing doors, but they did.
At the very next stop, a FEW people got off. So, a FEW people scrunched themselves on board. The doors to the metro car closed, then the doors of the station. Some MUJER got upset she and the rest of her inebriated family couldn't fit in the car. So, she opened the door to the station and stood between the doors so they wouldn't close/we couldn't leave.
People on both sides of the double doors yelled at each other and the "puta" that was keeping the car from going and making EVERYONE in Seville that had anywhere to go wait.
She yelled and screamed as I tried not to laugh. I was almost face to face with her, but there was the door to the metro between us. I felt a little protected by it. Suddenly, police men come over and try to calm and remove her. She wouldn't move. THEN, the doors to the metro car open. CRAP.
She was RIGHT in front of me and had definitely seen me laughing at her. Luckily, the policemen were able to get her away at right about that moment. She didn't "go quietly" but she go-ed. So I was able to get home, no problem.
Each day of Feria is the same, but I'd say it doesn't get old. I loved it.
This city knows how to party. "Unfortulately" ahahah we had to leave and didn't get to go to all of the days of Feria. Where did we go? Oh, just the eternal city a.k.a. ROME
Seville has this every year. Everyone gets super dressed up because it's basically their prom.
It's nothing more than a celebration of Seville. But, people from all over the country and world come to help Sevillanos out with it. All the women wear their Flamenco dresses and the men wear their finest suits.
They all go to this area of town called "Los Remedios" and there are HUGE tents for BLOCKS AND BLOCKS. Then, when you reach the end of the tents, there is an area of amusement park attractions. (Warning: there are no safety reg.s on these things, so it could be the ride of (the end of) your life.)
On Monday night we left at about 10 to see them light up the portal/HUGE DOOR that lets you enter Los Remedios. The lights and door are in the shape of the NO8DO sign. no8do is the symbol of Seville. "madeja" = 8 and the "no" and "do" start and stop a phrase that the symbol means. When you put it all together it says: no me ha dejado. This means, "she has not left me" referring to the help of the Virgin Mary.
Anyways, the tents are really only for the people who own them. You have to KNOW people.
We know NO one. We got stuck in the SUPER crowded and kind of gross public tents. STILL A BLAST.
We walked through the streets lined with the enormous, beautifully lit tents and listened to the Feria music each one played. We watched the women pass in their expensive, ornate dresses and stop in the tents to dance their traditional dances. We ate the fried fish and churros that are customary to this event. I did NOT, unfortunately, try the rebujito or manzanilla, both of which are drinks that are almost only served during this time of the year. This fair goes all day and almost all night, only stopping so it can be cleaned-up for the next day.
The weather was supposed to be awful, but, ella "no me ha dejado" and the weather was GORGEOUS.
Everything went super bien "very well". Until I had to get back home.
The taxis were charging an arm and a leg. because they could get away with it, and the bus drivers were on strike, so since I surely wasn't WALKING home, I was stuck with taking the metro. The stop was easy to find, but I'd forgotten my card. So, I had to pay. I had NO idea how to work the stupid machines that you buy the tickets from. So, I asked the man who was STARING at me for help (I figured he'd be on my side). He got me my ticket and walked me to the tracks. Normally, I'd find a way to get away from such a creeper, but there were SO many people around I knew he couldn't pull anything.
He and I talked for the duration of my wait for the metro. When it DID come, there was NO room for people to board. It was way too full. People on people, shoulder to shoulder, butt to butt, face to face.
Somehow, this man and his brother pushed myself and themselves into the ONLY available room there was (they seemed to create it from nothing). We weren't sure our noses would clear the closing doors, but they did.
At the very next stop, a FEW people got off. So, a FEW people scrunched themselves on board. The doors to the metro car closed, then the doors of the station. Some MUJER got upset she and the rest of her inebriated family couldn't fit in the car. So, she opened the door to the station and stood between the doors so they wouldn't close/we couldn't leave.
People on both sides of the double doors yelled at each other and the "puta" that was keeping the car from going and making EVERYONE in Seville that had anywhere to go wait.
She yelled and screamed as I tried not to laugh. I was almost face to face with her, but there was the door to the metro between us. I felt a little protected by it. Suddenly, police men come over and try to calm and remove her. She wouldn't move. THEN, the doors to the metro car open. CRAP.
She was RIGHT in front of me and had definitely seen me laughing at her. Luckily, the policemen were able to get her away at right about that moment. She didn't "go quietly" but she go-ed. So I was able to get home, no problem.
Each day of Feria is the same, but I'd say it doesn't get old. I loved it.
This city knows how to party. "Unfortulately" ahahah we had to leave and didn't get to go to all of the days of Feria. Where did we go? Oh, just the eternal city a.k.a. ROME
Sunday, April 18, 2010
My Pre-Feria Week
Some pretty awful things happened this week.
Also, some pretty good things happened this week.
Let's focus on the positive:
I had to go buy more panty hose, so I went to the store. While I was there the CUTEST little boy ran up to me and threw his arms around my legs. His mom laughed and told him to look up and he wasn't hugging who he thought he was. He looked up at me with the biggest, most gorgeous eyes and smiled. Then he hugged my legs tighter.
If I can find him, I'll be coming home with a baby Spaniard stow-away.
Thursday was my roommate's birthday. We haven't spoken in about a week and a half, and it's been twice as long since mutual eye contact was made. So, I obviously had forgotten about the significance of the date. At lunch, Mari was running around the kitchen throwing things together so we could eat when my roomie got back. By 2 pm (the normal hour for lunch) Mari had told me her own memory had failed her and she had told her the night before that the 16th was her birthday. Mari'd gone to the store and bought a cake and prepared a normal lunch because she hadn't had enough time to prepare something special.
By 2:15 I was really getting mad. My roommate was always late to meals, but I'd mistakenly given her enough credit to believe she'd show up on time for her own "party".
By 2:30 we'd not even gotten a call.
2:45 and the bowl of soup in front of me was taunting me. Then, the phone rang. Mari jumped up to get it, assuming it was... her. It was her son Rai. He told Mari that he'd just seen my roommate walking down Calle Sierpes (the hub of commercial shops in El Centro, conveniently located 30 minutes from Mari's apt.)
Upon Mari's hanging up, she and I immediately began cursing her name and eating.
Sometime after 3, my roomie came meandering through the door. Mari jumped up to deal with her (these Spaniards don't beat around the bush).
She told her that she was being incredibly rude for not coming to the meals on time. She said she wasn't going to get mad at her because it was her birthday, but, seriously, she didn't even have a good excuse and she knew why she was late.
She apologized and incomprehensibly, as always, tried to say thanks for the food and cake.
We finished eating in silence.
When my roommate had finished her meal, Mari got out the cake. We (Mari) sang happy birthday to her and we began eating. My roommate tried (for once) to make things less awkward by talking about the differences between American and Spanish birthday parties. Mari looked at me while my roommate wasn't paying attention like she was wondering if I could understand anything the girl was saying (which I couldn't) and I almost choked on my cake from laughing.
Later that night, it was time for dinner. Jacobo, Mari's other son, was over with his new girlfriend. We were eating tapas and drinking tinto de verano when my roomie wobbled in. She had a crutch under her arm and a feigned look of pain on her face.
We all asked what had happened to her, but I already knew. She'd gotten another tattoo... On her foot.
No offense to anyone with a tattoo, but were I trying to get a job in the White House, like my roommate, I'd make it my business to stay tattoo free. I don't think tattoos say, "leader".
She explained her tradition of getting a new tattoo every year on her birthday. Mari asked why she did that and my roomie reasoned it was because she was a poet.
[Blank stare]
Oh, vale.
My roommate also mentioned she'd be dancing in a Sevillana show the next day (she'd never taken a lesson), getting drunk with her friends that night, seeing as it was her 21st (She has no friends. Literally.), and she didn't know how she'd do either with her foot in such a condition.
Dios mio.
She's just a pleasure.
I watched a movie with Mari that night, it had Colin Firth in it, but I still didn't like it. However, I DID understand it (it was dubbed).
I got to go to a soccer game on Saturday! WOOO. It. Was. Awesome.
Soccer really needs to catch on in the US.
I plan on going to the Sevilla v. Barcelona game on May 9th. It'll be the most incredible thing... To see Messi play... OMG. He's a legend. AND he's in his prime... I'm gonna pee my pants! haha
Like I said, bad stuff happened, too.
Heather Genovese died this week and it shook me up a little. We weren't the best of friends but I'd always had a good opinion of her. It was just hard because it was such a shock and brought back a lot of bad memories.
AND there was the whole volcano thing...
But seriously, Jenny from my school here is still stuck in some other country and can't get back till tonight. It's been 3 days that she's been there.
Next week is Feria. (Gotta love a city-wide party for no reason, and the pre-parties for said party).
It started raining again today. Bad sign. Last time it started raining, it didn't stop for about 7 weeks...
Also, some pretty good things happened this week.
Let's focus on the positive:
I had to go buy more panty hose, so I went to the store. While I was there the CUTEST little boy ran up to me and threw his arms around my legs. His mom laughed and told him to look up and he wasn't hugging who he thought he was. He looked up at me with the biggest, most gorgeous eyes and smiled. Then he hugged my legs tighter.
If I can find him, I'll be coming home with a baby Spaniard stow-away.
Thursday was my roommate's birthday. We haven't spoken in about a week and a half, and it's been twice as long since mutual eye contact was made. So, I obviously had forgotten about the significance of the date. At lunch, Mari was running around the kitchen throwing things together so we could eat when my roomie got back. By 2 pm (the normal hour for lunch) Mari had told me her own memory had failed her and she had told her the night before that the 16th was her birthday. Mari'd gone to the store and bought a cake and prepared a normal lunch because she hadn't had enough time to prepare something special.
By 2:15 I was really getting mad. My roommate was always late to meals, but I'd mistakenly given her enough credit to believe she'd show up on time for her own "party".
By 2:30 we'd not even gotten a call.
2:45 and the bowl of soup in front of me was taunting me. Then, the phone rang. Mari jumped up to get it, assuming it was... her. It was her son Rai. He told Mari that he'd just seen my roommate walking down Calle Sierpes (the hub of commercial shops in El Centro, conveniently located 30 minutes from Mari's apt.)
Upon Mari's hanging up, she and I immediately began cursing her name and eating.
Sometime after 3, my roomie came meandering through the door. Mari jumped up to deal with her (these Spaniards don't beat around the bush).
She told her that she was being incredibly rude for not coming to the meals on time. She said she wasn't going to get mad at her because it was her birthday, but, seriously, she didn't even have a good excuse and she knew why she was late.
She apologized and incomprehensibly, as always, tried to say thanks for the food and cake.
We finished eating in silence.
When my roommate had finished her meal, Mari got out the cake. We (Mari) sang happy birthday to her and we began eating. My roommate tried (for once) to make things less awkward by talking about the differences between American and Spanish birthday parties. Mari looked at me while my roommate wasn't paying attention like she was wondering if I could understand anything the girl was saying (which I couldn't) and I almost choked on my cake from laughing.
Later that night, it was time for dinner. Jacobo, Mari's other son, was over with his new girlfriend. We were eating tapas and drinking tinto de verano when my roomie wobbled in. She had a crutch under her arm and a feigned look of pain on her face.
We all asked what had happened to her, but I already knew. She'd gotten another tattoo... On her foot.
No offense to anyone with a tattoo, but were I trying to get a job in the White House, like my roommate, I'd make it my business to stay tattoo free. I don't think tattoos say, "leader".
She explained her tradition of getting a new tattoo every year on her birthday. Mari asked why she did that and my roomie reasoned it was because she was a poet.
[Blank stare]
Oh, vale.
My roommate also mentioned she'd be dancing in a Sevillana show the next day (she'd never taken a lesson), getting drunk with her friends that night, seeing as it was her 21st (She has no friends. Literally.), and she didn't know how she'd do either with her foot in such a condition.
Dios mio.
She's just a pleasure.
I watched a movie with Mari that night, it had Colin Firth in it, but I still didn't like it. However, I DID understand it (it was dubbed).
I got to go to a soccer game on Saturday! WOOO. It. Was. Awesome.
Soccer really needs to catch on in the US.
I plan on going to the Sevilla v. Barcelona game on May 9th. It'll be the most incredible thing... To see Messi play... OMG. He's a legend. AND he's in his prime... I'm gonna pee my pants! haha
Like I said, bad stuff happened, too.
Heather Genovese died this week and it shook me up a little. We weren't the best of friends but I'd always had a good opinion of her. It was just hard because it was such a shock and brought back a lot of bad memories.
AND there was the whole volcano thing...
But seriously, Jenny from my school here is still stuck in some other country and can't get back till tonight. It's been 3 days that she's been there.
Next week is Feria. (Gotta love a city-wide party for no reason, and the pre-parties for said party).
It started raining again today. Bad sign. Last time it started raining, it didn't stop for about 7 weeks...
London, Mate
The days before London were quite boring. I've really gotten into my routine now. Although... it did feel strange to be back at classes...
One thing did happen though... I found out that two young women from Madrid were killed here during Semana Santa. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit them as they were crossing a street. It may be just me, but I swear the people driving cars were nicer and slower this week.
And on Tuesday we went to a play... I don't think I'll be going back... It was ONE man all alone reading a one hour play to us from memory. He was one of those guys that was really into the art of it. I'm not sure I know how to explain it... haha
On Thursday: We caught the bus to the airport AS it was rolling away. We ate chino candy on the bus ride there and laughed at the shapes that they come in.
Poor Angela, the first ten or 15 minutes we were at the airport, I must have been SCARY! I was saying stuff that made people give me looks saying, "OK, stay outta HER way..." I was so PISSED! We HAD to check in online, or Ryanair would charge us. Then, we had to check in AGAIN at the airport. Bull.
I, of course, had to practically strip as I went through the metal detectors because, I have bones made of iron or something. I am ALWAYS the one that gets frisked or pulled aside. We got more snacks and headed to the gate.
We were some of the last people in line. This and the fact that we stood out so much HAD to be the reason we were told we had to fit our purses in our luggage, because we were, "allowed strictly ONE carry-on". We crammed our bags in after quite the struggle. Our beaming smiles were instantly wiped clean as the woman (didn't even look us in the eyes) said we then had to fit our bags into the metal-cage-thing to see if they was the proper size... You know they weren't.
We had to then pay for them to check our bags which were about 1" too big. I literally measured my bag to be sure it was the right size. And id was!! Bull.
Angela and I, the last ones to board the plane, actually found some seats that were next to each other... just separated by an aisle.
We had the most rude flight attendants in the world. They did their job out of spite, and the only pleasure they received was from telling innocent little girls like me, that they had to take their head phones off, or be quiet, or keep body parts out of the aisle...
We bought tickets for the train on the plane. So, when we got off the plane, we got on the train. The walk to the train was what made us remember that they do things on the other side of the road there. As we were walking up and down the ramps, they were always on their left, so we had to adjust haha.
On the train to Liverpool St., we had to deal with some creepy Spaniards... and their mom. One of them knew some English and wanted to talk about nothing but Indianapolis (?) and Feria. I wanted to sleep. It was all very awkward. They said they were staying at a youth hostel, but their mom had to be 75.
We got off the train and asked a policeman where to go, not before being accosted by Indian men that wanted to take us in their cabs and said it would cost 20 pounds. We took two buses and didn't pay a cent for it (British people rule!).
But, we were EXHAUSTED because it was about 3 in the morning. We got off the second bus and were in the right square, but still didn't know where we were. So, we asked a hotel for directions. He told us where to go, but said to, "ask the president, to be sure." He meant another hotel. but we were both so delirious from sleep deprivation, we laughed and laughed at this... haha
We checked in. Both of us.
This was the best part of the night. Because, Angela wasn't supposed to be able to stay in our hostel! The day I'd booked the hostel, I'd done it through Hostelworld.com and they gave the wrong information to the place we wanted to stay. So, the reservation was for ONE. I'd tried working it out before we left for London, but the hostel was full... There was nothing they could do. I had to book another hostel for her (15 minutes away... and the worst part? At this time, she didn't have a phone!) for a backup. I KNEW I could get her in my hostel. She and I lucked out because someone had canceled and there was a spot open. Whoop whoop!
A lie was told to the other hostel, so that we didn't have to pay... ;)
I went to my room of 15 people, and Angela went to hers of 9.
Due to the fact it was 4 in the morning on a Thursday, everyone was asleep. All of the beds seemed to be taken in my room, but then I found mine. It was the top bunk of a triple-decker bunk bed.
Now, when I sleep in a hostel, I trust no one. So, I slept with my luggage in my bed. Hauling it up the ladder was no easy task. I over-pack. It was heavy. At this point my luggage is taking up a lot of bed space, so I have to use it as a pillow to lay with my legs straight. (My mom finds this hilarious)
I could not sleep all night because some man in my room was talking (in whatever language, I've no idea) to himself. And, due to the amount of snoring, I was in a room of mostly men.
Just after I got in the room, the same talking man woke up and started chatting with his friend. They were both still in their beds! Finally, a German girl told them to shut up, and they did. The next morning, they'd gotten up early to leave and the German girl was just starting to wake up. I don't remember exactly what happened, because I was half asleep, but she had something she wasn't going to use, the men wanted it, and she denied it to them because they'd, "talked all night and were so incredibly rude this morning!"
Rude indeed. One of them farted super loud and all of us were still trying to rest. Grossss.
I called Angela at 8:00 to wake her up so we could grab the free breakfast. We met in Cheffchauen (a room that was blue and white and reminded us of Morocco). Breakfast was bread... AND MILK! I'd not had milk in SO long. It was AMAZING and made me think of Natalie. ;)
We snuck Angela into the showers (she was technically checked-out (we had to before 10am or we'd lose our deposit and her reservation was for only one night) and she couldn't check back in until 11). She thinks everything I do will get us into trouble.
We went to the British Museum... and it was AWESOME! It was about 3 blocks from our hostel and HUGE. It was impossible to navigate! We even had lunch there. I'm now obsessed with sparkling apple juice.
I could have spent all day there but there was so much else to see!
I managed to get us around town pretty well. I don't know when it happened, but apparently, I can read a map nowadays. The buildings in London are gorgeous. I love it.
We went to St. Paul's cathedral and it was more than I'd even expected. Just amazing. We couldn't take pix inside because they wanted us to respect the people worshiping... understandable. But, we did meet some interesting people-- or, person.
While sitting on the steps of the cathedral after checking out the inside, a man approached us and with very broken English, asked us for a picture. I assumed he wanted one in front of the cathedral. So, I jumped up to take it. As I'm getting it read, he sits next to Angela... When he sees the confused looks on our faces, h clarifies by saying he wanted a picture WITH US. Angela almost looked scared as I asked her if it was OK with her. What choice did she have? The camera was already in my hands! I took one of the two of them and then asked if I could take a pic of it too, with my camera (I wanted to remember this, too!). Then, to my surprise, he asked for a pic with me. The foreigners LOVE Angela, so I was surprised he even noticed I was there. While Angela smiled for her picture, too nice to do anything else, I made a face... I hope he enjoys that!
We walked over Millennium Bridge (the one from the new Harry Potter movie... too cool). We saw all the sights in two days, I don't know how. But I learned a few things, "the London Bridge" is NOT the London Bridge. When I would picture this landmark in my head, I was confusing it with another famous English landmark. look it up.
The market in London was a lot smaller than the one in Barcelona and none of the workers cat-called us or looked like they wanted to kill themselves. So it was nice. They had a lot of different styles of food.
We took the underground to get to King's Cross Station and got a little lost. BUT, without help we found our way there. Yay for independence! haha
We did the whole picture-with-platform-9 3/4 thing. It was really fun. One of the guards told us not to be too disappointed. But, I liked it. The other guards we talked to didn't even wait for us to finish, he knew what we were there for and he pointed us in the right direction. Btw: in the underground, everything is blue and yellow. It was really strange.
Angela had to change rooms every night and twice one of the days. Yet, she was still never in the same room as I until the last night. Boy, do I wish she was in my room for the second to last night....
We went to bed early every night we were there. We were totally wiped by about 8 pm every day. The first night we watched Harry Potter (catching a theme here?) in the lounge with a bunch of people from the hostel. You always meet interesting people in hostels...
When we finally gave in, it was about 11pm. I crawled in bed and closed my eyes, but was too tired to fall asleep... I hate that. A little while later, I was still awake, and my door was opened. I was no longer alone in the room. The curtain to my bed was shut, but I could hear everything: A couple (boy and girl) came into my room. They were kissing and I could hear them talking. I didn't think anything would come of this, until my closed eyes sprang open when I heard some activity that wasn't PG-13. Things were definitely progressing and I didn't know if they knew I was in the room. It was too late for me to make noise and myself known without looking like a total creep. So I just layed there... I was saved, I thought, by two more people coming into the room. In addition to the sounds of the brushing their teeth and walking around, I could STILL hear the couple... canoodling...
All I could do was cover my ears and attempt to remove my mind from the room.
They kept going at it until the wee hours of the morning.
When I woke up, I asked one of my roommates, from Spain, if she'd heard it. She said no, but her friend said, "SI!!!!" hahaha
Grossss.
Angela and I got up early on our last full day in London to see the changing of the guard. We were late and there were SOOO many people, but luck brought us close to the gate as they all marched out. It was the best luck we could have asked for. We then went to the park next to it to snack. I found ANOTHER BRACELET IN A TREE!!! AND it looks JUST like the one I found in Park Guell!!! It was really weird....
We almost got trapped behind a gate when we tried to look at a fountain. hahah that was stressful...
Saw Westminster Abbey. Ate apples outside it. WE had million apples to eat. We bought one bag to share, thought it would be too much, and still got another bag for free.
We took pix in front of Big Ben... Angela is not the best director... I looked like a TOTAL idiot, standing in the middle of a park with my arm in the air and moving it slightly in every direction, for about 7 minutes before we got the first pic. It literally took me 20 seconds to get Angela's picture for her. hahahahha
We didn't ride the London Eye because it's expensive and we heard it was kind of stupid. We walked by China Town.... BUST.
By 4pm, we'd seen everything. "Tired," wouldn't begin to describe it.
I HAD to "grab a pint" while there. I HATE beer, so this was a strange urge.
At the pubs, everyone seemed to know everyone else and they were packed. So, I bought a pint from Tesco and drank it in our hostel's lobby. Classy. There was a pretty funny misunderstanding with the Tesco guy though hahahahhaha ;)
He said, "Ho-rd-yoo?" So I said, "Ya, I'm on holiday..."
He was trying to ask how old I was... Angela definitely gave me a hard time for that one...
The last morning we tried walking to Abbey Road to recreate that famous Beatles pic... 45 minutes of walking at a fast pace later, we weren't half way there. We had a flight to catch and had to turn back. We were both pretty sad... We were totally psyched up for it, because it was, "only a 40 minute walk away..." BULL!
Our journey back to the airport was MUCH smoother. We took one bus and then the train. We were determined to get our bags to fit in the little steel cages in the airport because we were NOT paying 35 euro for that again. So, we went totally prepared. We got there a lot earlier, wore our thickest clothes, carried our bags and pretended the weight wasn't that bad. As we approached the counter, we noticed it was only one lady tearing boarding passes. This was good news for us!
As we got closer to her, I saw her and I saw the 4 or 5 blue cages around her, threatening us. hahah
As Angela handed her her pass, I saw the womans' eyes drift to Angela's too-big carry-on. I struck up conversation with her to try and distract her and I think the over-stimulation distracted her enough to let us through!
So, it was a great, great, GREAT trip!
This was written on Monday April 12th
One thing did happen though... I found out that two young women from Madrid were killed here during Semana Santa. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit them as they were crossing a street. It may be just me, but I swear the people driving cars were nicer and slower this week.
And on Tuesday we went to a play... I don't think I'll be going back... It was ONE man all alone reading a one hour play to us from memory. He was one of those guys that was really into the art of it. I'm not sure I know how to explain it... haha
On Thursday: We caught the bus to the airport AS it was rolling away. We ate chino candy on the bus ride there and laughed at the shapes that they come in.
Poor Angela, the first ten or 15 minutes we were at the airport, I must have been SCARY! I was saying stuff that made people give me looks saying, "OK, stay outta HER way..." I was so PISSED! We HAD to check in online, or Ryanair would charge us. Then, we had to check in AGAIN at the airport. Bull.
I, of course, had to practically strip as I went through the metal detectors because, I have bones made of iron or something. I am ALWAYS the one that gets frisked or pulled aside. We got more snacks and headed to the gate.
We were some of the last people in line. This and the fact that we stood out so much HAD to be the reason we were told we had to fit our purses in our luggage, because we were, "allowed strictly ONE carry-on". We crammed our bags in after quite the struggle. Our beaming smiles were instantly wiped clean as the woman (didn't even look us in the eyes) said we then had to fit our bags into the metal-cage-thing to see if they was the proper size... You know they weren't.
We had to then pay for them to check our bags which were about 1" too big. I literally measured my bag to be sure it was the right size. And id was!! Bull.
Angela and I, the last ones to board the plane, actually found some seats that were next to each other... just separated by an aisle.
We had the most rude flight attendants in the world. They did their job out of spite, and the only pleasure they received was from telling innocent little girls like me, that they had to take their head phones off, or be quiet, or keep body parts out of the aisle...
We bought tickets for the train on the plane. So, when we got off the plane, we got on the train. The walk to the train was what made us remember that they do things on the other side of the road there. As we were walking up and down the ramps, they were always on their left, so we had to adjust haha.
On the train to Liverpool St., we had to deal with some creepy Spaniards... and their mom. One of them knew some English and wanted to talk about nothing but Indianapolis (?) and Feria. I wanted to sleep. It was all very awkward. They said they were staying at a youth hostel, but their mom had to be 75.
We got off the train and asked a policeman where to go, not before being accosted by Indian men that wanted to take us in their cabs and said it would cost 20 pounds. We took two buses and didn't pay a cent for it (British people rule!).
But, we were EXHAUSTED because it was about 3 in the morning. We got off the second bus and were in the right square, but still didn't know where we were. So, we asked a hotel for directions. He told us where to go, but said to, "ask the president, to be sure." He meant another hotel. but we were both so delirious from sleep deprivation, we laughed and laughed at this... haha
We checked in. Both of us.
This was the best part of the night. Because, Angela wasn't supposed to be able to stay in our hostel! The day I'd booked the hostel, I'd done it through Hostelworld.com and they gave the wrong information to the place we wanted to stay. So, the reservation was for ONE. I'd tried working it out before we left for London, but the hostel was full... There was nothing they could do. I had to book another hostel for her (15 minutes away... and the worst part? At this time, she didn't have a phone!) for a backup. I KNEW I could get her in my hostel. She and I lucked out because someone had canceled and there was a spot open. Whoop whoop!
A lie was told to the other hostel, so that we didn't have to pay... ;)
I went to my room of 15 people, and Angela went to hers of 9.
Due to the fact it was 4 in the morning on a Thursday, everyone was asleep. All of the beds seemed to be taken in my room, but then I found mine. It was the top bunk of a triple-decker bunk bed.
Now, when I sleep in a hostel, I trust no one. So, I slept with my luggage in my bed. Hauling it up the ladder was no easy task. I over-pack. It was heavy. At this point my luggage is taking up a lot of bed space, so I have to use it as a pillow to lay with my legs straight. (My mom finds this hilarious)
I could not sleep all night because some man in my room was talking (in whatever language, I've no idea) to himself. And, due to the amount of snoring, I was in a room of mostly men.
Just after I got in the room, the same talking man woke up and started chatting with his friend. They were both still in their beds! Finally, a German girl told them to shut up, and they did. The next morning, they'd gotten up early to leave and the German girl was just starting to wake up. I don't remember exactly what happened, because I was half asleep, but she had something she wasn't going to use, the men wanted it, and she denied it to them because they'd, "talked all night and were so incredibly rude this morning!"
Rude indeed. One of them farted super loud and all of us were still trying to rest. Grossss.
I called Angela at 8:00 to wake her up so we could grab the free breakfast. We met in Cheffchauen (a room that was blue and white and reminded us of Morocco). Breakfast was bread... AND MILK! I'd not had milk in SO long. It was AMAZING and made me think of Natalie. ;)
We snuck Angela into the showers (she was technically checked-out (we had to before 10am or we'd lose our deposit and her reservation was for only one night) and she couldn't check back in until 11). She thinks everything I do will get us into trouble.
We went to the British Museum... and it was AWESOME! It was about 3 blocks from our hostel and HUGE. It was impossible to navigate! We even had lunch there. I'm now obsessed with sparkling apple juice.
I could have spent all day there but there was so much else to see!
I managed to get us around town pretty well. I don't know when it happened, but apparently, I can read a map nowadays. The buildings in London are gorgeous. I love it.
We went to St. Paul's cathedral and it was more than I'd even expected. Just amazing. We couldn't take pix inside because they wanted us to respect the people worshiping... understandable. But, we did meet some interesting people-- or, person.
While sitting on the steps of the cathedral after checking out the inside, a man approached us and with very broken English, asked us for a picture. I assumed he wanted one in front of the cathedral. So, I jumped up to take it. As I'm getting it read, he sits next to Angela... When he sees the confused looks on our faces, h clarifies by saying he wanted a picture WITH US. Angela almost looked scared as I asked her if it was OK with her. What choice did she have? The camera was already in my hands! I took one of the two of them and then asked if I could take a pic of it too, with my camera (I wanted to remember this, too!). Then, to my surprise, he asked for a pic with me. The foreigners LOVE Angela, so I was surprised he even noticed I was there. While Angela smiled for her picture, too nice to do anything else, I made a face... I hope he enjoys that!
We walked over Millennium Bridge (the one from the new Harry Potter movie... too cool). We saw all the sights in two days, I don't know how. But I learned a few things, "the London Bridge" is NOT the London Bridge. When I would picture this landmark in my head, I was confusing it with another famous English landmark. look it up.
The market in London was a lot smaller than the one in Barcelona and none of the workers cat-called us or looked like they wanted to kill themselves. So it was nice. They had a lot of different styles of food.
We took the underground to get to King's Cross Station and got a little lost. BUT, without help we found our way there. Yay for independence! haha
We did the whole picture-with-platform-9 3/4 thing. It was really fun. One of the guards told us not to be too disappointed. But, I liked it. The other guards we talked to didn't even wait for us to finish, he knew what we were there for and he pointed us in the right direction. Btw: in the underground, everything is blue and yellow. It was really strange.
Angela had to change rooms every night and twice one of the days. Yet, she was still never in the same room as I until the last night. Boy, do I wish she was in my room for the second to last night....
We went to bed early every night we were there. We were totally wiped by about 8 pm every day. The first night we watched Harry Potter (catching a theme here?) in the lounge with a bunch of people from the hostel. You always meet interesting people in hostels...
When we finally gave in, it was about 11pm. I crawled in bed and closed my eyes, but was too tired to fall asleep... I hate that. A little while later, I was still awake, and my door was opened. I was no longer alone in the room. The curtain to my bed was shut, but I could hear everything: A couple (boy and girl) came into my room. They were kissing and I could hear them talking. I didn't think anything would come of this, until my closed eyes sprang open when I heard some activity that wasn't PG-13. Things were definitely progressing and I didn't know if they knew I was in the room. It was too late for me to make noise and myself known without looking like a total creep. So I just layed there... I was saved, I thought, by two more people coming into the room. In addition to the sounds of the brushing their teeth and walking around, I could STILL hear the couple... canoodling...
All I could do was cover my ears and attempt to remove my mind from the room.
They kept going at it until the wee hours of the morning.
When I woke up, I asked one of my roommates, from Spain, if she'd heard it. She said no, but her friend said, "SI!!!!" hahaha
Grossss.
Angela and I got up early on our last full day in London to see the changing of the guard. We were late and there were SOOO many people, but luck brought us close to the gate as they all marched out. It was the best luck we could have asked for. We then went to the park next to it to snack. I found ANOTHER BRACELET IN A TREE!!! AND it looks JUST like the one I found in Park Guell!!! It was really weird....
We almost got trapped behind a gate when we tried to look at a fountain. hahah that was stressful...
Saw Westminster Abbey. Ate apples outside it. WE had million apples to eat. We bought one bag to share, thought it would be too much, and still got another bag for free.
We took pix in front of Big Ben... Angela is not the best director... I looked like a TOTAL idiot, standing in the middle of a park with my arm in the air and moving it slightly in every direction, for about 7 minutes before we got the first pic. It literally took me 20 seconds to get Angela's picture for her. hahahahha
We didn't ride the London Eye because it's expensive and we heard it was kind of stupid. We walked by China Town.... BUST.
By 4pm, we'd seen everything. "Tired," wouldn't begin to describe it.
I HAD to "grab a pint" while there. I HATE beer, so this was a strange urge.
At the pubs, everyone seemed to know everyone else and they were packed. So, I bought a pint from Tesco and drank it in our hostel's lobby. Classy. There was a pretty funny misunderstanding with the Tesco guy though hahahahhaha ;)
He said, "Ho-rd-yoo?" So I said, "Ya, I'm on holiday..."
He was trying to ask how old I was... Angela definitely gave me a hard time for that one...
The last morning we tried walking to Abbey Road to recreate that famous Beatles pic... 45 minutes of walking at a fast pace later, we weren't half way there. We had a flight to catch and had to turn back. We were both pretty sad... We were totally psyched up for it, because it was, "only a 40 minute walk away..." BULL!
Our journey back to the airport was MUCH smoother. We took one bus and then the train. We were determined to get our bags to fit in the little steel cages in the airport because we were NOT paying 35 euro for that again. So, we went totally prepared. We got there a lot earlier, wore our thickest clothes, carried our bags and pretended the weight wasn't that bad. As we approached the counter, we noticed it was only one lady tearing boarding passes. This was good news for us!
As we got closer to her, I saw her and I saw the 4 or 5 blue cages around her, threatening us. hahah
As Angela handed her her pass, I saw the womans' eyes drift to Angela's too-big carry-on. I struck up conversation with her to try and distract her and I think the over-stimulation distracted her enough to let us through!
So, it was a great, great, GREAT trip!
This was written on Monday April 12th
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Obvious Observations
In no particular order:
1) In Spain it's totally common to mix meats. Ham and beef, tuna and eggs. I'm not sure if anyone does this in America, but I know it had never even occurred to me...
2) Walking and eating/drinking is very strange here. They're all about getting social time in. So, grabbing a quick coffee with a friend is frequently done. I've not seen a single thermos since I've been here.
3) Spanish kids speak better Spanish than I do... :(
4) Gypsies by the cathedral are not to be meddled with. If they spot you looking at them, or you aren't paying attention, the next time you look up they'll be right in your face offering you a flower. (Where do they get said flowers? They pluck them from the bushes outside the museum NEXT to the Cathedral.)
5) For almost the whole last month, construction has been going on in this beautiful city to transform it into something truly spectacular come Semana Santa (Holy Week). It's no wonder so many people come here to celebrate this special time. The city workers really go all out.
6) This transformation means that some things that are usually fixed in a certain place need relocating. Such as, the horses, carriages, and their drivers. They are normally very close to Plaza Nueva, but now they are just outside it and right in the middle of the walk way... A few days ago I was unaware of their relocation and wasn't really paying attention as I headed home after class. As a result, the sneeze from the huge horse next to me was quite alarming and bystanders laughed when I jumped and screamed a little from shock.
7)Old women are mean. They are more ready to unnecessarily cut you off than any other person on the sidewalk.
8) In Spain, it is legal to smoke pot in public (I just learned that, and it explains a lot). However, it is illegal to buy it...? You can grow your own plant, but you may only have one.... ??? I don't get it hahaha. But, those are the rules!
9)In America, I believe a glance in someone's direction that lasts more than 3 or 4 seconds to be very inappropriate/uncomfortable. Here, you can pretty much stare at people and it's not considered rude. Spaniards are quite curious people.
10) If one is eating fish, then mayonnaise is needed.
11) This is the most relaxed place ever. No one ever looks like they're in a hurry. They all take out time to chill. Other than the traffic, you'd never know it was a big city.
12)My hair constantly smells like smoke...
13) Here, patriotism is reserved for one's soccer team. In America, some people cry at the sight of the American flag, or during the National Anthem. Here, they'd call that crazy. In America, we call it grateful.
14) They are obsessed with Scarlett Johansen (gross) and House the t.v. show.
15) They have mannequins in car shops.
16) In Granada just about everywhere you went in the Cathedral had severed head statues. It was really strange. And graphic.
17) I've been humiliated SO many times since I've arrived here, it takes a lot to embarrass me.
18) Today I realized why Spaniards never rush anywhere... They don't wanna work up a sweat! It's freakin' hot here!
19) But still, "No pasa nada," "no te preocupes," and "me da igual," (No big deal, don't worry, and I have no preference) are the most common phrases to leave a Spaniard's mouth. This gives them the excuse to do a lot of otherwise bad things tho...
20) The waiters here are mean! They're on a salary, so their income is not based on tips. It really shows.
21) P.D.A. = N.B.D. (this makes tv shows and the news REALLY graphic.)
22) "Botellon" is a word that means to go out and drink... but, in public. Any night of the week one can find large or small groups of people of almost any age tossing a few back. It never gets rowdy, but it's still illegal.
23) The policemen here. do. NOTHING. There are laws for everything, but they are NEVER enforced.
24) My favorite gestures:
* Slapping oneself on the cheek. This is done out of shock when someone has done something rude/bold.
* Turning one's palm to face up and touching the tips of all fingers together, then moving the wrist up and down at the elbow. This means, "a lot".
* Placing your hand right in front of you, with your palm facing your stomach, fingers together and straight, and shaking your hand up and down at the wrist. This also means, "a lot".
25) Did I mention they eat a ton of bread?
26) People who live and work in Spain get 4 weeks of vacation/year. They have all traveled a lot as a result.
27) They all drink all the time here. I'm no longer sure Ireland should have the reputation as the country that does all the drinking.
28) All the moms are "helicopter moms".
29) Since my arrival, I have yet to see: a brownie, salad dressing, BBQ sauce, real butter, a hot dog, or a hamburger made of BEEF. That's just off the top of my head.
30) There are NO bald men here. There are about 3 BALDING men in all of Seville, and 4 that have shaved heads.
31) In an earlier post, I mentioned that women here seem to love wearing tights. I thought this was quite a good observation. I was quite dull. ALL women wear tights here, if not jeans, khakis, etc, because to have bare legs means that you are a prostitute... I bought 5 more pairs of tights today. But, personally, I believe that their tight usage is two fold. One, the prostitute thing. Two, they're obsessed with shoes, so any other kind of pant covers part of them up...
32) Spain is lazy. Everyone siestas (even the street performers), everyone shows up where ever they're supposed to be whenever they want, etc.
33) The whole eye contact thing + the excessive touching/physical contact makes me very uncomfortable.
34) It's impossible to tell upon first glance if a man is straight or gay. Still can't tell.
35) Don't smile at anyone. Ever. Smiling at a man, (legit) means you're inviting him to come speak with you. Smiling at a woman... is bad. I don't know what it means, but they don't appreciate it. I used to never be able to NOT smile on command... I've been forced to learn.
36) ... Because, people who smile in the streets are looked at like a crazy person.
37) Spaniards are never in a good mood when they're at work. They live to have fun.
38) Bikers are CRAZY. "Los Bicis" rule the road, sidewalk, lo que sea. They always think they have the right of way. I've seen them crash with cars AND people on foot.
39) They think Americans care too much about oral hygiene
40) They think Americans drink too much water
41) Girls are obsessed with their weight here. They don't talk about dieting, like in the USA, they just do it. It's actually a really big problem. And like I said, almost no one talks about it here.
42) I think that's enough for now.
1) In Spain it's totally common to mix meats. Ham and beef, tuna and eggs. I'm not sure if anyone does this in America, but I know it had never even occurred to me...
2) Walking and eating/drinking is very strange here. They're all about getting social time in. So, grabbing a quick coffee with a friend is frequently done. I've not seen a single thermos since I've been here.
3) Spanish kids speak better Spanish than I do... :(
4) Gypsies by the cathedral are not to be meddled with. If they spot you looking at them, or you aren't paying attention, the next time you look up they'll be right in your face offering you a flower. (Where do they get said flowers? They pluck them from the bushes outside the museum NEXT to the Cathedral.)
5) For almost the whole last month, construction has been going on in this beautiful city to transform it into something truly spectacular come Semana Santa (Holy Week). It's no wonder so many people come here to celebrate this special time. The city workers really go all out.
6) This transformation means that some things that are usually fixed in a certain place need relocating. Such as, the horses, carriages, and their drivers. They are normally very close to Plaza Nueva, but now they are just outside it and right in the middle of the walk way... A few days ago I was unaware of their relocation and wasn't really paying attention as I headed home after class. As a result, the sneeze from the huge horse next to me was quite alarming and bystanders laughed when I jumped and screamed a little from shock.
7)Old women are mean. They are more ready to unnecessarily cut you off than any other person on the sidewalk.
8) In Spain, it is legal to smoke pot in public (I just learned that, and it explains a lot). However, it is illegal to buy it...? You can grow your own plant, but you may only have one.... ??? I don't get it hahaha. But, those are the rules!
9)In America, I believe a glance in someone's direction that lasts more than 3 or 4 seconds to be very inappropriate/uncomfortable. Here, you can pretty much stare at people and it's not considered rude. Spaniards are quite curious people.
10) If one is eating fish, then mayonnaise is needed.
11) This is the most relaxed place ever. No one ever looks like they're in a hurry. They all take out time to chill. Other than the traffic, you'd never know it was a big city.
12)My hair constantly smells like smoke...
13) Here, patriotism is reserved for one's soccer team. In America, some people cry at the sight of the American flag, or during the National Anthem. Here, they'd call that crazy. In America, we call it grateful.
14) They are obsessed with Scarlett Johansen (gross) and House the t.v. show.
15) They have mannequins in car shops.
16) In Granada just about everywhere you went in the Cathedral had severed head statues. It was really strange. And graphic.
17) I've been humiliated SO many times since I've arrived here, it takes a lot to embarrass me.
18) Today I realized why Spaniards never rush anywhere... They don't wanna work up a sweat! It's freakin' hot here!
19) But still, "No pasa nada," "no te preocupes," and "me da igual," (No big deal, don't worry, and I have no preference) are the most common phrases to leave a Spaniard's mouth. This gives them the excuse to do a lot of otherwise bad things tho...
20) The waiters here are mean! They're on a salary, so their income is not based on tips. It really shows.
21) P.D.A. = N.B.D. (this makes tv shows and the news REALLY graphic.)
22) "Botellon" is a word that means to go out and drink... but, in public. Any night of the week one can find large or small groups of people of almost any age tossing a few back. It never gets rowdy, but it's still illegal.
23) The policemen here. do. NOTHING. There are laws for everything, but they are NEVER enforced.
24) My favorite gestures:
* Slapping oneself on the cheek. This is done out of shock when someone has done something rude/bold.
* Turning one's palm to face up and touching the tips of all fingers together, then moving the wrist up and down at the elbow. This means, "a lot".
* Placing your hand right in front of you, with your palm facing your stomach, fingers together and straight, and shaking your hand up and down at the wrist. This also means, "a lot".
25) Did I mention they eat a ton of bread?
26) People who live and work in Spain get 4 weeks of vacation/year. They have all traveled a lot as a result.
27) They all drink all the time here. I'm no longer sure Ireland should have the reputation as the country that does all the drinking.
28) All the moms are "helicopter moms".
29) Since my arrival, I have yet to see: a brownie, salad dressing, BBQ sauce, real butter, a hot dog, or a hamburger made of BEEF. That's just off the top of my head.
30) There are NO bald men here. There are about 3 BALDING men in all of Seville, and 4 that have shaved heads.
31) In an earlier post, I mentioned that women here seem to love wearing tights. I thought this was quite a good observation. I was quite dull. ALL women wear tights here, if not jeans, khakis, etc, because to have bare legs means that you are a prostitute... I bought 5 more pairs of tights today. But, personally, I believe that their tight usage is two fold. One, the prostitute thing. Two, they're obsessed with shoes, so any other kind of pant covers part of them up...
32) Spain is lazy. Everyone siestas (even the street performers), everyone shows up where ever they're supposed to be whenever they want, etc.
33) The whole eye contact thing + the excessive touching/physical contact makes me very uncomfortable.
34) It's impossible to tell upon first glance if a man is straight or gay. Still can't tell.
35) Don't smile at anyone. Ever. Smiling at a man, (legit) means you're inviting him to come speak with you. Smiling at a woman... is bad. I don't know what it means, but they don't appreciate it. I used to never be able to NOT smile on command... I've been forced to learn.
36) ... Because, people who smile in the streets are looked at like a crazy person.
37) Spaniards are never in a good mood when they're at work. They live to have fun.
38) Bikers are CRAZY. "Los Bicis" rule the road, sidewalk, lo que sea. They always think they have the right of way. I've seen them crash with cars AND people on foot.
39) They think Americans care too much about oral hygiene
40) They think Americans drink too much water
41) Girls are obsessed with their weight here. They don't talk about dieting, like in the USA, they just do it. It's actually a really big problem. And like I said, almost no one talks about it here.
42) I think that's enough for now.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Semana Santa
Well, it finally came.
Semana Santa was even crazier than I'd imagined. They told us it'd bring in a lot of people, but we couldn't have imagined it.
I am literally still trying to figure out how this city fit all of those people in it. I've never been around so many people at one time. There were times during the week that I literally couldn't move, and if I could, it didn't matter because I wasn't going to be able to walk anywhere.
They said to be careful in the streets. Because there are so many people, robbers will try to take advantage of the tourists, or anyone. So, my roommate [insert Psycho theme] (who claims to be the baddest-ass around) is now without a camera, seeing as it was stolen. I wasn't even robber this week! She went down to the police station, filled out a report and all that, but there is exactly a 0% chance that they will find it.
On Holy Thursday it's tradition to stay up all night and watch the "floats" go by. I know "float" isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing we have in the U.S. to them. They're carried on the backs of men, not tied to strings and floating in the air or anything. The way people line up to see them is similar. There were police constantly telling us to back-up onto the sidewalk.
I was super irritated for part of the night. I'd gone to see this with some kids from my school. I don't know them all super well, but I've hung out with a couple of them several times. One of them, I do not like.
Two of the girls were practically RUNNING to get to the bridge where we were going to watch this, and didn't concern themselves at all whether or not we were lost in the sea of people. Then, when we all finally got to the bridge, I stood close to the sidewalk so I would have a great view. They sat and lounged a ways away. Two hours of waiting later, the first "floats" came by and I think the girl I don't like thought I was saving the place I was standing in for HER... I was not. She pushed... I pushed back... It was all very loving on that Holy, Holy day. hahah
But, hey, fair is fair and this was my ONLY Semana Santa.
I LOVED the part when the Virgin went by. Totally worth the wait. Everyone yelled that she was beautiful as she went by. Other than that, silence. One man, who was actually about two people away from me, took it upon himself to start screaming one of the cheers for her. I could NOT understand when he was saying, but he was loud and spirited, and the crowd responded with enthusiasm.
I found it incredibly strange that all of the Spaniards would get completely silent when the floats came near, yet continued to smoke. I understand we were outside, and I definitely understand that we're in Spain. But one man went as far as to ask one of the hooded brothers to light his cigarette with the ceremonial candle he was holding...
Still sad there's no Easter bunny. I was looking forward to the free Spanish candy. Easter was totally boring as a result (I feel like I'm going to hell for saying that).
There's not much more I can say about the whole week other than I got zero studying done, but I absolutely caught up on my sleep. Glorious.
I have a pretty busy week this week school-wise (you know, that's exactly how it should be right after one gets back from a break).
I'm missing my family and friends a lot. More and more each day. And I am really really starting to think about what it's going to be like when I get back home. I could stay here forever, but not if I don't get to see my loved ones.
Semana Santa was even crazier than I'd imagined. They told us it'd bring in a lot of people, but we couldn't have imagined it.
I am literally still trying to figure out how this city fit all of those people in it. I've never been around so many people at one time. There were times during the week that I literally couldn't move, and if I could, it didn't matter because I wasn't going to be able to walk anywhere.
They said to be careful in the streets. Because there are so many people, robbers will try to take advantage of the tourists, or anyone. So, my roommate [insert Psycho theme] (who claims to be the baddest-ass around) is now without a camera, seeing as it was stolen. I wasn't even robber this week! She went down to the police station, filled out a report and all that, but there is exactly a 0% chance that they will find it.
On Holy Thursday it's tradition to stay up all night and watch the "floats" go by. I know "float" isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing we have in the U.S. to them. They're carried on the backs of men, not tied to strings and floating in the air or anything. The way people line up to see them is similar. There were police constantly telling us to back-up onto the sidewalk.
I was super irritated for part of the night. I'd gone to see this with some kids from my school. I don't know them all super well, but I've hung out with a couple of them several times. One of them, I do not like.
Two of the girls were practically RUNNING to get to the bridge where we were going to watch this, and didn't concern themselves at all whether or not we were lost in the sea of people. Then, when we all finally got to the bridge, I stood close to the sidewalk so I would have a great view. They sat and lounged a ways away. Two hours of waiting later, the first "floats" came by and I think the girl I don't like thought I was saving the place I was standing in for HER... I was not. She pushed... I pushed back... It was all very loving on that Holy, Holy day. hahah
But, hey, fair is fair and this was my ONLY Semana Santa.
I LOVED the part when the Virgin went by. Totally worth the wait. Everyone yelled that she was beautiful as she went by. Other than that, silence. One man, who was actually about two people away from me, took it upon himself to start screaming one of the cheers for her. I could NOT understand when he was saying, but he was loud and spirited, and the crowd responded with enthusiasm.
I found it incredibly strange that all of the Spaniards would get completely silent when the floats came near, yet continued to smoke. I understand we were outside, and I definitely understand that we're in Spain. But one man went as far as to ask one of the hooded brothers to light his cigarette with the ceremonial candle he was holding...
Still sad there's no Easter bunny. I was looking forward to the free Spanish candy. Easter was totally boring as a result (I feel like I'm going to hell for saying that).
There's not much more I can say about the whole week other than I got zero studying done, but I absolutely caught up on my sleep. Glorious.
I have a pretty busy week this week school-wise (you know, that's exactly how it should be right after one gets back from a break).
I'm missing my family and friends a lot. More and more each day. And I am really really starting to think about what it's going to be like when I get back home. I could stay here forever, but not if I don't get to see my loved ones.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Barcelona -- You Get What You Pay For & Pick-pocketers Beware
Barcelona was great. It was my first time going on a trip with people from my class and without school affiliation. We had to plan everything!
Day One (Friday): The flight out was at 7 am... so it was best for me to not sleep at all, considering how unreliable my alarm clock/phone is. So, I watched Eurotrip and packed.
I walked to the bus stop and met up with Angela, Emily, Rachel, and Amanda. We go to the airport, got on the plane... Everything went well. We took another bus to a plaza near our hostel. It took us about 30 minutes to check in. We stole food for breakfast (we were half an hour away from getting it free, come on!)
Our hostel, upon first glance, was great. Then, we saw our rooms. We had two sleeping roommates, two girls from Australia, who we would later fall in love with. We had safes to put our stuff in, beds with dirty sheets, etc... normal hostel stuff. We rented sheets, towels (3 euro for a hand towel... reasonable? No. I'm keeping that!)
We lost no time. We immediately began to explore the city. We took a tour of the soccer stadium... WOW. I love soccer now. Before, I liked it. I was really into it during the last World Cup. But, now, WOW...
Hours and hours of exploring later, we took a short nap.
We got up at 8:30 for the hostel's free dinner. IDK who that food was supposed to fill, but there was a reason it was free... we got about A slice of pizza. Fin.
we went back to bed so we could get up to go out that night. The hostel organizes outings every night to different famous clubs. We decided to go with them that night. We got all ready and adorable, but had to wait a whole hour from the time we were supposed to leave before we actually began to leave.
We weren't bored, though. Our friend from CC-CS, Victoria, had given me her number earlier that day and she was in Barcelona, too. I had received a call from her that night and texted her back but someone else replied. We assumed her phone was stolen. We spent 20 minutes on the phone with some jackass (whose number I'd mistaken for Victoria's) and a guy from the hostel who spoke fluent Spanish trying to come up with a place to meet where he could return it. Then, she looked in her room and found it.
We got SO sick of waiting. Angela and I decided to go off on our own. We found a club about 3 seconds of walking later. It was super close and we got in for free so we decided to stay a while. It was a strange club, but we had fun. We attracted some unwanted male attention, of course. First, there was the Spaniard that managed to grind on both of us at the same time. He was evaded. Then there was the creepy set of dirty-haired boys from Wisconsin that couldn't dance. Evaded. The SAME Spaniard found us and he was sweating so hard that he got Angela's hair wet! I grabbed the closest, biggest guy I could (over the sweaty Spaniard's shoulder) and mouth "HELP US!" hahaha
In a matter of seconds, our legs were free of Spanish men, the sweaty man was storming away, and we were in the company of some very nice Belgian boys. They were a little boring though.
We decided to head out around 4. We had a long day ahead of us and we hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night.
On our walk home, we went down the wrong street. As we walked we passed a lot of men who were selling single beer cans from six-packs that they were holding and some were even selling pastries... Whatever. Anyways, hahaha. We didn't realize it was the wrong street until we got to the youngster-filled plaza at the end. I said we needed to act natural, hang for a second in the plaza, and then we could head back without looking too obviously out of place or lost.
We headed back down the street. I was on the left, with my clutch in my left hand. Angela was on my right.
As if in slow motion, all of the following happened:
I felt a hand on my left hand and it was pulling on my bag.
I stopped walking and saw a man coming into my sights from the left side. I screamed the most savage scream I've ever let out. It was totally instinct. I didn't even know what I was doing, just that I needed to act quickly.
I pulled my bag towards myself, but he wasn't letting go. I told him to let go and he still didn't.
He left me with no choice:
I pulled my bag, and therefore him, into my body. I lifted my right leg and as hard and quickly as I could, I smashed his balls with my pointed-toe boots. It took 3 hard, true hits before he let go. I will never forget the look on his face. He must no have been used to this reaction, because he looked so sad and said, "no?" I stepped back and kept my clutch against my chest. Everything sped up again. It was real time. I took account of his age. He had to be about 60. I felt bad for a second. But, he didn't HAVE to try stealing my purse!! My anger bubbled back up and I clubbed him across the head with my clutch. I screamed, "You scared the SHIT outta me!"
Angela and I left. She looked so confused. She asked me, "Are you OK!?" After a second I could answer.
"I'm GREAT!" It felt really good. I had been warned about the thieves in Barcelona so I had been very aware and alert every second I was in that city. It felt so incredible to be able to protect myself and a friend. I felt really powerful hahaha.
Angela and I couldn't stop talking about it all night.
"Why'd he rob me?! I'm a half a foot taller than you!"
"Dude, I had NO idea what was going on! I didn't even know it was you that had screamed!"
-"Why didn't anyone help me!?"
-"They were just sad he got to you first!" hahah
etc. etc.
I'm glad I have this blog to remember and share the details, but you are all missing out by not getting to see the reenactment in person. I don't think this gets the whole message across hahahah
Day Two (Saturday): We got up for breakfast, went back to bed, and finally started our day. We bought tickets for a bud tour recommended to us by Rich. We could get on and off whenever we wanted and stay as long as we wanted, because another bus would come every 10 minutes. We saw so much Gaudi. His cathedral is... amazing. I mean, there are no words. He was said to be obsessed with it and its design. He knew he'd never see the day its construction was finished. When asked how he felt about that he answered that it was no problem for him, God has all the time in the world.
Awwwww
Then we saw his AMAZING PARK. Gruell. WOW. I'm totally at a loss for words tonight because there's no good way to describe these things.
Then, we were let off at La Placa de Espanya (Did I mention yet that they don't speak Spanish in Barcelona?)
There was the most breath taking fountain show I've ever seen. It's super famous. There were SO many people watching it. The place as a whole, was the most beautiful place I've ever been in my life. Half the time We were there, I was just making that "Eh- Uh-Umm" noise. I settled with, "Wow, this place is, like, really pretty."
Well put, I know.
A short while later, we found out we had a new roommate. He was some Italian guy our roommates had found him sleeping in Sarah's bed. (It's her own fault, if you ask me, no one should make their bed that nicely in a hostel! ;D)
That night, we went to a few small clubs (I was too scared to do much more). Angela made best friends with a couple black guys, one was the owner of one of the clubs. I had to teach her about giving out fake numbers... hahaha. She WOULD be to nice to know about that. And we both made friends with the guys who stand on the block handing out tickets to get into clubs for free. One was really cute... and a juggler... Don't ask. hahahhaha
Day Three (Sunday): We'd planned to go to mass that morning, it WAS Palm Sunday after all. But, no.
We settled for getting up super late. No breakfast, which meant no lunch (because we stole lunch at breakfast).
We finished our bus tour and it was a little lack-luster compared to the day before since we'd seen EVERYTHING the day before. By 3 we were SO hungry and so cheap, we ended up having lunch at McDonald's. Judge us, I know.
Then, we headed to the Picasso museum. It was so strangely located. It looked like any other building. But, it was spectacular. We got to see everything from his earliest (normal looking) sketches, to his last and last works. I'm such a fan now. His Las Meninas collection left me like on of those pretentious, posers who stares at paintings for ten minutes. It was totally worth it. I loved them!
Talked to my mommy, had dinner, played Kings with sangria with Madolyn and Emily (our Australians). Then, we headed out to the club for the night. We had made a lot of friends in the hostel at that point. There were a lot of really really cool people there. We had to go a little early though, because Madolyn wanted to be sure to make her train to their next destination... understandable.
Day Four (Monday): We missed breakfast, again. So, to my delight, we went to the market for breakfast food. Gelato and pineapple was amazing.
Angela and I didn't have a lot planned for the day, so we just explored around the immediate area. We saw the cathedral, a famous neighborhood, and returned her jersey. hahaha
OK, Angela and I are both VERY cheap. She bought a really really cheap jersey from a tourist shop and I got one that was a little more legit from the stadium. She decided she didn't like hers because it was a little outdated. So, we went into the closest gift shop (there are only a million of them) and she bartered with them. She told them how she'd only just bought it and that she wanted to exchange it for another one (that cost the same) for one that was a little newer.
Five euro of a payoff and five minutes later, she'd accomplished her goal.
We had paella for dinner, searched for missing shampoo (sweet Jesus, don't ask), and hung out in the lounge of the hostel with all of the people we'd met the night before. We acquainted ourselves with out newest roommate, ANOTHER AUSSIE. Totally cute.
We packed it in. Got up early, and headed home. Our leaving flight was also at 7...
I've probably been awake ten full hours since we got back. I cannot sleep enough.
All in all, great trip!
Day One (Friday): The flight out was at 7 am... so it was best for me to not sleep at all, considering how unreliable my alarm clock/phone is. So, I watched Eurotrip and packed.
I walked to the bus stop and met up with Angela, Emily, Rachel, and Amanda. We go to the airport, got on the plane... Everything went well. We took another bus to a plaza near our hostel. It took us about 30 minutes to check in. We stole food for breakfast (we were half an hour away from getting it free, come on!)
Our hostel, upon first glance, was great. Then, we saw our rooms. We had two sleeping roommates, two girls from Australia, who we would later fall in love with. We had safes to put our stuff in, beds with dirty sheets, etc... normal hostel stuff. We rented sheets, towels (3 euro for a hand towel... reasonable? No. I'm keeping that!)
We lost no time. We immediately began to explore the city. We took a tour of the soccer stadium... WOW. I love soccer now. Before, I liked it. I was really into it during the last World Cup. But, now, WOW...
Hours and hours of exploring later, we took a short nap.
We got up at 8:30 for the hostel's free dinner. IDK who that food was supposed to fill, but there was a reason it was free... we got about A slice of pizza. Fin.
we went back to bed so we could get up to go out that night. The hostel organizes outings every night to different famous clubs. We decided to go with them that night. We got all ready and adorable, but had to wait a whole hour from the time we were supposed to leave before we actually began to leave.
We weren't bored, though. Our friend from CC-CS, Victoria, had given me her number earlier that day and she was in Barcelona, too. I had received a call from her that night and texted her back but someone else replied. We assumed her phone was stolen. We spent 20 minutes on the phone with some jackass (whose number I'd mistaken for Victoria's) and a guy from the hostel who spoke fluent Spanish trying to come up with a place to meet where he could return it. Then, she looked in her room and found it.
We got SO sick of waiting. Angela and I decided to go off on our own. We found a club about 3 seconds of walking later. It was super close and we got in for free so we decided to stay a while. It was a strange club, but we had fun. We attracted some unwanted male attention, of course. First, there was the Spaniard that managed to grind on both of us at the same time. He was evaded. Then there was the creepy set of dirty-haired boys from Wisconsin that couldn't dance. Evaded. The SAME Spaniard found us and he was sweating so hard that he got Angela's hair wet! I grabbed the closest, biggest guy I could (over the sweaty Spaniard's shoulder) and mouth "HELP US!" hahaha
In a matter of seconds, our legs were free of Spanish men, the sweaty man was storming away, and we were in the company of some very nice Belgian boys. They were a little boring though.
We decided to head out around 4. We had a long day ahead of us and we hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night.
On our walk home, we went down the wrong street. As we walked we passed a lot of men who were selling single beer cans from six-packs that they were holding and some were even selling pastries... Whatever. Anyways, hahaha. We didn't realize it was the wrong street until we got to the youngster-filled plaza at the end. I said we needed to act natural, hang for a second in the plaza, and then we could head back without looking too obviously out of place or lost.
We headed back down the street. I was on the left, with my clutch in my left hand. Angela was on my right.
As if in slow motion, all of the following happened:
I felt a hand on my left hand and it was pulling on my bag.
I stopped walking and saw a man coming into my sights from the left side. I screamed the most savage scream I've ever let out. It was totally instinct. I didn't even know what I was doing, just that I needed to act quickly.
I pulled my bag towards myself, but he wasn't letting go. I told him to let go and he still didn't.
He left me with no choice:
I pulled my bag, and therefore him, into my body. I lifted my right leg and as hard and quickly as I could, I smashed his balls with my pointed-toe boots. It took 3 hard, true hits before he let go. I will never forget the look on his face. He must no have been used to this reaction, because he looked so sad and said, "no?" I stepped back and kept my clutch against my chest. Everything sped up again. It was real time. I took account of his age. He had to be about 60. I felt bad for a second. But, he didn't HAVE to try stealing my purse!! My anger bubbled back up and I clubbed him across the head with my clutch. I screamed, "You scared the SHIT outta me!"
Angela and I left. She looked so confused. She asked me, "Are you OK!?" After a second I could answer.
"I'm GREAT!" It felt really good. I had been warned about the thieves in Barcelona so I had been very aware and alert every second I was in that city. It felt so incredible to be able to protect myself and a friend. I felt really powerful hahaha.
Angela and I couldn't stop talking about it all night.
"Why'd he rob me?! I'm a half a foot taller than you!"
"Dude, I had NO idea what was going on! I didn't even know it was you that had screamed!"
-"Why didn't anyone help me!?"
-"They were just sad he got to you first!" hahah
etc. etc.
I'm glad I have this blog to remember and share the details, but you are all missing out by not getting to see the reenactment in person. I don't think this gets the whole message across hahahah
Day Two (Saturday): We got up for breakfast, went back to bed, and finally started our day. We bought tickets for a bud tour recommended to us by Rich. We could get on and off whenever we wanted and stay as long as we wanted, because another bus would come every 10 minutes. We saw so much Gaudi. His cathedral is... amazing. I mean, there are no words. He was said to be obsessed with it and its design. He knew he'd never see the day its construction was finished. When asked how he felt about that he answered that it was no problem for him, God has all the time in the world.
Awwwww
Then we saw his AMAZING PARK. Gruell. WOW. I'm totally at a loss for words tonight because there's no good way to describe these things.
Then, we were let off at La Placa de Espanya (Did I mention yet that they don't speak Spanish in Barcelona?)
There was the most breath taking fountain show I've ever seen. It's super famous. There were SO many people watching it. The place as a whole, was the most beautiful place I've ever been in my life. Half the time We were there, I was just making that "Eh- Uh-Umm" noise. I settled with, "Wow, this place is, like, really pretty."
Well put, I know.
A short while later, we found out we had a new roommate. He was some Italian guy our roommates had found him sleeping in Sarah's bed. (It's her own fault, if you ask me, no one should make their bed that nicely in a hostel! ;D)
That night, we went to a few small clubs (I was too scared to do much more). Angela made best friends with a couple black guys, one was the owner of one of the clubs. I had to teach her about giving out fake numbers... hahaha. She WOULD be to nice to know about that. And we both made friends with the guys who stand on the block handing out tickets to get into clubs for free. One was really cute... and a juggler... Don't ask. hahahhaha
Day Three (Sunday): We'd planned to go to mass that morning, it WAS Palm Sunday after all. But, no.
We settled for getting up super late. No breakfast, which meant no lunch (because we stole lunch at breakfast).
We finished our bus tour and it was a little lack-luster compared to the day before since we'd seen EVERYTHING the day before. By 3 we were SO hungry and so cheap, we ended up having lunch at McDonald's. Judge us, I know.
Then, we headed to the Picasso museum. It was so strangely located. It looked like any other building. But, it was spectacular. We got to see everything from his earliest (normal looking) sketches, to his last and last works. I'm such a fan now. His Las Meninas collection left me like on of those pretentious, posers who stares at paintings for ten minutes. It was totally worth it. I loved them!
Talked to my mommy, had dinner, played Kings with sangria with Madolyn and Emily (our Australians). Then, we headed out to the club for the night. We had made a lot of friends in the hostel at that point. There were a lot of really really cool people there. We had to go a little early though, because Madolyn wanted to be sure to make her train to their next destination... understandable.
Day Four (Monday): We missed breakfast, again. So, to my delight, we went to the market for breakfast food. Gelato and pineapple was amazing.
Angela and I didn't have a lot planned for the day, so we just explored around the immediate area. We saw the cathedral, a famous neighborhood, and returned her jersey. hahaha
OK, Angela and I are both VERY cheap. She bought a really really cheap jersey from a tourist shop and I got one that was a little more legit from the stadium. She decided she didn't like hers because it was a little outdated. So, we went into the closest gift shop (there are only a million of them) and she bartered with them. She told them how she'd only just bought it and that she wanted to exchange it for another one (that cost the same) for one that was a little newer.
Five euro of a payoff and five minutes later, she'd accomplished her goal.
We had paella for dinner, searched for missing shampoo (sweet Jesus, don't ask), and hung out in the lounge of the hostel with all of the people we'd met the night before. We acquainted ourselves with out newest roommate, ANOTHER AUSSIE. Totally cute.
We packed it in. Got up early, and headed home. Our leaving flight was also at 7...
I've probably been awake ten full hours since we got back. I cannot sleep enough.
All in all, great trip!
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