Never wear Spandex in Spain

So last night, our group met at 8:45pm for dinner at the Italian Restaurant I mentioned in the previous post. Once we had sat down and they'd begun to serve the pasta and such, a general panic permeated the room. At my table of nearly thirty people, they gave us only 3 plates of pasta. One look and I thought, "Where are the other 26 plates? I could eat one of these myself." Everyone got 4 noodles each (I wish this was an exaggeration). They continued to bring out two or three other types of pasta, each of which we got to try 4 noodles of. In total, I had about 12 noodles. The panic ensued as a result of the previous nearly 2 months of gorging ourselves with our madres' cooking. We became like vultures. "That table got an extra plate and they only have 5 people!!!!" "They're not even eating their dessert!!" Would this be the first time we'd go hungry in Spain!? What if I don't reach the throwing up sensation after this meal? Thankfully, the second course was the kicker. There, hidden beneath our pasta plates, was another for the pizza. Dessert and coffee naturally followed and there was peace and harmony once again. Once Don Corbin (JMU professor) left, the bartender approached several of us who lingered to chat with our coffees. "El Profesor se fue, no? Ahora quereis chupitos italianos?" ("The professor left, right? Do y'all want Italian shots now?") Ha, what a guy. He brought out lemon for the girls and something gross and clear for the guys. At home, I fell asleep reading a 20 page story for short stories...not that SHORT if you ask me. 

Siesta lunch today was gorbanzo bean soup and fried chicken fillets with roasted red peppers, bread, and fruit. Tried to sleep, but couldn't (I have a lot on my mind today) and headed to my last two classes of the day. Now, I'm waiting for Alex to get out of Phonetics so we can go get a pincho (tapas/snack). 

I guess I should also explain the title of this post. Yesterday, on my walk to the river, I was wearing my running outfit (spandex and sweatshirt) and happened to pass by one of the regular beggars on my way down Rua Mayor. The others will usually sit in silence, but this guy really gives me the creeps. He's dressed like the leader of a biker gang, wreaks of alcohol, and will come within inches of your face. "Porque no me amas mi reina?" is what he sputtered in my mine yesterday, which means "Why don't you love me, my queen?" I blame it on the spandex as this wasn't the only passing comment I received on my walk either. The same thing happened before when I wore my workout clothes to class; people stare at you as if you were wearing a huge elephant costume and the men say distasteful things. What a telling message, though, that in Spain it's possible to feel attractive even when you're sweaty, out of shape, and without make-up. 

El Rio Tormes

Right now I'm sitting down by the river (El Rio Tormes) basking in the 70 degree sunny weather. One day it's so windy and cold I can barely stand up to contain the tears streaming from my eyes, and the next, it's like summer vacation. I much prefer the latter, which is today. There are so many couples (gay and straight alike) lounging around me right now, none with PDA issues. I might vom. Perhaps surprisingly, however, my nearly euphoric experience is in no way being hindered by the lovers' spectacle. 

Yesterday morning, our group met in La Plaza Mayor at 10:30am and took an extensive tour (via Jesus...he really knows everything!) of both Las Catedrales Vieja and Nueva. Even though I had already seen them with Alex during his visit to Sal, I really benefitted from the added anecdotal information this time around. Next, we passed by the famous wall with the Salamantino frog. Personally, it looks like nothing more than a ball of play dough on top of a skull, but they call it a frog here and get super excited about it. We finished the tour strolling through a beautiful courtyard with obvious Arabic influence near the statue of Fray Luis de Leon. 

As usual, it took me about an hour to walk home, making intense zig-zags in and out of stores on Calle Toro, oo-ing and awe-ing over things I don't have the money for. Siesta lunch was another "swamp" tasting soup (but was basically just broth), salmon and roasted red peppers, bread, and fruit. As usual, my full tummy lulled me to sleep and when I woke up I made the short trek across the street to Cafe del Arte. I don't know why, but the same bartender that yelled at me before has been so pleasant my last two visits. Maybe Spring has brought him a new lover too. On Friday, he warned me to guard my bag on account of the poor economy, and yesterday he asked how I was doing. Baby steps...I'm working to repair this relationship and become one of those regulars that chats it up with the servers, all on a first name basis. Perhaps this is overly ambitious, but I'm confident this man has a soft side deep down. Besides, I'm working hard to respect the unspoken cafe rules. I will leave if it becomes overly congested, I will sit at the smallest table possible (or share with a rando), I will order more than one coffee if there for more than 45 min or so. Internet has become THIS precious. I will do nearly anything at this point. 

Two cafes con leche later, I headed back home to shower and get ready for our evening group event: seeing "Desnudos en Parque Central" (Naked in Central Park) at the theater on Calle Toro. Although I understood most of the dialogue and such, this was one of the most boring productions I'd ever been to. Midway through, I glanced a few seats over to my right, and Jesus was even dosing off. Yikes. The problem was that they only had 6 cast members and the same exact set the entire time....not to mention that I was so aggravated with one of the main characters. Every time she made a joke or started crying, I thought I was going to have to leave the theater. Everyone seemed to wake up at the end though, when they really DID get DESNUDOS en el parque. The ending scene was the man in his boxers and the woman in her bra and underwear. Wow, can't get much more scandalous than that, right? Ahh, how foolish we were to forget we are in Spain. The bra came off, her hands the only cover. As soon as the man (probably about 65 years old, I might add) began tugging at his boxers, I dove my head between my knees. "Please no, please stop, no more, I want to go home." I can't remember the last time I've been so uncomfortable. And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, the house lights went out and it was over. THANK GOD!

After the play, we were given 15 euros for food since it was about 10:30pm at this point. Alex, Tori, Colleen, Leah, and I made a mad dash for the nearest Donor Kabap place. Although we had to wait about 20 minutes for our precious bocadillos, it was well worth it. After Donor, we headed to a bar called Gatsby...one of the stranger bars I've ever been to. In the front of the bar, there were men my dad's age, and in the back, there were kids my little sister, Rebekah's, age. Yuck, where do we fit here? If we stay in the front, strange, old men stare and try to dance with us, but in the back, I feel like a chaperone at a middle school dance. We made the executive decision to leave and go to Jacko's, but ending up stopping at a chic wine bar on the way. We ended the night at Erasmus, near the University, where we met up with various other group members, but ended up going home early...around 3. 

Woke up this morning at 12:30 from a delicious sleep. After being cooped up inside, doing little else other than my devotional, siesta lunch (arroz con leche again!), and reading Lazarillo de Tormes for Intro to Lit., I was dying to get out and walk around in the sunshine. I have so much reading and papers and tests coming up this week and next...it's like I haven't had any work until now. Reality finally strikes. Tonight, we're meeting our group at 8:45 for dinner at an Italian Restaurant. Yum!

A Toast to Tres Pilares!

So March has begun, the windiest month of the year in Spain. It's so powerful I literally sway from side to side on my walks to class now. Naturally, the month of April follows, which is the rainiest. I've been told that May is then the most beautiful...good thing we leave May first!

It's been a pretty laid back week since we returned to Salamanca from our weekend in Barcelona. Among the more exciting aspects of this week have been my yoga sessions in the bathroom, "swamp soup" (cabbage, onion, and spinach slop) and carne picado (new fav!! much like meatballs) for siesta, and a return to Atahualpa. Atahualpa is the bar we congregated at our first night in Sal and it was an extremely bittersweet experience. Memories of spending that semi-awkward first night at this bar (to which we arrived around 11pm...majorly lame) with people I didn't know, came flooding back to me, making me realize how long I've been in Spain and how quickly my time here is slipping away. This having been said, it was much more fun this time. I know, and love, everyone in the group, and we arrived at a much more acceptable Spanish time, about 12:30. We all enjoyed dancing to old rap music from the 7th grade...they're a little behind in this area. Also noteworthy is that Allison met a Spanish man named Carlos. Her story is that she was just doing the robot (totally normal, right?) and he came up and asked for her number. She's got game for sure. Carlos called her today and wants to meet up. Spanish men are so persistent! I think just about every girl in our group has some doting Spaniard after her. HA! 

After we enjoyed the Barre Libre for 3.80 euros, Alex, Colleen, and I met up with our Carnavales amigos (Cesar, Edu, and Natalio) at Imprenta. Next, we headed to one of the biggest bars I've been to yet in Sal. As soon as we walked in and I saw the stage I thought to myself, "Uh oh, I love stages." Yep, within 30 minutes, Alex and I were up there dancing away. One of the things I will miss most about Spain is definitely the dancing...probably one of the only reasons I haven't become completely obese here. Got home around 5am...I'm half expecting to get strep again. Thankfully, I only have one class at 1pm on Fridays. It was pretty funny seeing my entire class with seemingly-permanent CERVEZA stamps on our hands. 

Yesterday, I met Natalio in La Plaza Mayor at 12:30 (12:45 Spanish time) for coffee. It only took a wallpost, facebook message, instant message, and a text for me to agree to go. I really wasn't kidding when I said Spanish men were persistent. Originally Alex and Colleen had promised they would come along, but Alex got sick and Colleen had class. Oh well. He took me to a really cute cafe near the University, where we sipped cafe con leches and talked for over an hour. Of course he doesn't speak more than four words of English so this proved an excellent chance for me to practice my Spanish. He asked me all about my Barcelona trip and I made sure to mention all the fun I had with my boyfriend there. Although I'm making him out to be a little creepy, he's really not. He's SO nice and I'm always grateful for a chance to ask questions and practice speaking with real Spaniards. It's so cool to finally be at the point where I can have full fledged conversations in Spanish that aren't limited to talking about the weather, how old I am, and little else. It's so neat to be able to talk about Politics, Religion, aspirations, experiences, and most importantly, to be able to joke with one another. 

Today, we had siesta lunch with Yolanda (2) and Lucia (4), our madre's adorable granddaughters. They are so funny especially because they really stress out cranky old Luis. I think they're finally starting to warm up to me too. I like talking to little kids because I feel like we're on a similar Spanish language level. We had rice soup, Bacaloa (fish) with tomato sauce, fruit, bread, and HAGEN DAZ dulce de leche ice cream!! WOW painfully delicious. Love you madre.

After a beautiful 2 hour siesta nap, I'm now at Cafe del Arte with Alex and Allison (RUSH OF ADRENALINE wooo!) enjoying cafes con leche and churros con chocolate mmm. Tonight, I'm meeting some girls at Birdland, a nearby jazz bar, for a relaxed evening. I've never been, but have heard it's really GUAY.

Tomorrow and Sunday we have several scheduled group activities touring monuments and such around Salamanca...should be fun. Mas tarde!

How is this Normal?!

The living situation of so many middle-aged Spaniards is rather bizarre. Of course I didn't JUST find this out, but watching Step Brothers the other day prompted me to decide it was definitely Blog worthy. Very few people here get married before they're in their mid-thirties or so and the norm is to live at home until then. YIKES! Our madre's 45-yr-old daughter still lives at home. How about when these people meet someone at the bar, what do they do?? "Oh hey baby, let's take this back to my PARENT'S house." That's what makes the movie, Step Brothers, so hilarious. But I'm pretty sure the humor would pass completely over the Spaniards' heads. In most other aspects, I openly admit the Spanish people truly know how to live, but this little detail just throws me for a loop. How the heck did this become normal? Just sayin'.

Alex and I at the beach. Oh just the Mediterranean Sea, no big deal.

Top of Pedrera 

Me and Colleen in front of Sagrada Familia

The gingerbread houses i wanted to eat at Park Guell

BarThelona

Long weekend in Barcelona: 2 days in Barcelona, 2 days on a bus.

VIERNES 27 DE FEBRERO
We left Plaza G.G. at 8.00 a.m. Here began our eleven-hour journey. Our first stop was 3 hours down the road, where we all enjoyed coffee and pastries on the JMU budget (well, money that used to be ours). We watched the movie Troy in English, how lovely. Our next stop was at 3pm to eat the lunches our madres had made for us. This time, Allison and I got three bocadillos (sandwiches: one with chicken and roasted red peppers, another pastry kind with ham and cheese, and the third with our beloved Spanish tortilla). Madre also packed us each a huge chocolate pastry and 2 pieces of fruit. Another blue ribbon lunch, Acension. We watched the Bodyguard, also in English, a movie I’m a little embarrassed to say I liked a lot.

We FINALLY got to Barcelona at 7:30pm and I was assigned to room with Angela☺ I enjoyed my ritual hotel bath and got ready for dinner downstairs at 9. Once at the table, the first course the servers brought us was plane fettuccini pasta. “Where’s the sauce?” I thought. I shouldn’t have worried though because the waiter was close behind with a twelve pound mixing bowl of ketchup (two for each of the three tables). Spaniards seem to think that Americans practically drink ketchup on a daily basis. I guess this is kind of like marinara sauce? Instead, I opted for olive oil and cheese. Next, we had a typical interesting Spanish salad, complete with white asparagus, corn, iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, and artichokes. For the main course, we were given a hamburger patty and French fries. It was pretty cute how hard they were trying to make the meal as American as they knew how. Personally, I would have preferred one of their specialty Spanish dishes instead, but I can’t complain. One, because the burger tasted like a sirloin steak and two, because we now had an acceptable food with which to use the STILL 12 pound bowl of ketchup. This having been said, at the end of the meal we had only lowered the ketchup content about one centimeter.

After dinner, Alex met me at the metro stop right behind our hotel and we road the 25 minutes or so back to his apartment. It was so cool to be able to see all the places he’d been telling me about, now I can really imagine him in his stomping grounds. We hung out with his roommate, also named Alex, and another friend, Will. Apparently, they had done an extensive cleaning of their tiny apartment, complete with air freshener, in anticipating my visit. Although I didn’t really notice, the thoughtful gesture was very sweet. Alex gave me a late Valentine’s Day gift: T-shirt that says “Espana es de Puta Madre!” and a jar of peanut butter. I was pretty much shaking when I opened this; it was painfully perfect.


SABADO 28 DE FEBRERO
We ate breakfast in the hotel at 8.30 a .m. The buffet offered fresh fruit, pastries, cereal, yogurt, meat and cheese. But it wouldn’t have been complete though without the champagne for your morning mimosa. We left at 9:30am to visit Gaudi’s Parque Güell. Way guay. This huge park is right near the water and filled with mosaic benches, gingerbread looking houses, and sea plant inspired fences. We also enjoyed perusing all the paintings, hand-made jewelry, and fun crafty things out on display. I bought a black leather bracelet with painted red and turquoise flowers. It’s so cool! The lady who sold it to me said she and her cousin make these all the time. The girls in our group practically sold her out too, each donning her own unique colorful pattern.

At 12.00p.m. we saw the Olympic Stadium from the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona. This place is huge! At 1.15 p.m. we went to the Picasso Museum. I think if Madrid hadn’t completely (and perhaps irreversibly) ruined museums for me, I would have enjoyed this more. When we were through at 2:30, Tori, Alex, and I hightailed it out of there to find the nearest café with a good Menu del Dia. Thankfully, JMU gave us money (our parents’ money) for food this weekend. That’s right, $60 in my pocket. Many of us often try and see if we can make a profit on this allotted money, but it’s pretty difficult at times. I think I about broke even for this weekend, an entirely free weekend in Barcelona, Spain. Not bad.

After lunch, Tori, Alex, and I made our way back to the hotel. I had been feeling a lot better, only with a fading sore throat and lingering fatigue. I popped another 3-euro pill and fell into a dead-sleep. I woke up an hour and half later (only because I had set an alarm), showered, and met Alex at the transfer metro station. We got dinner near his apartment at a café (one he and his friends call “Bros Café”). I ordered croquetas and Alex a steak and egg platter, like a typical football player. Previously, I Had been anxious to get a taste of the unique clubbing nightlight of Barcelona, but now really couldn’t will my body to go since I was still on meds and trying to be healthy again. Thankfully, I’m easily pleased and was just as content to stay in and watch the amazing American film, Step Brothers, with Alex.


DOMINGO 1 DE MARZO
Breakfast in the hotel again but at 8.45 a.m. At 9:45, we left to see la Sagrada Familia. This place looks exactly like a dribble castle on the outside. Started in 1898, this cathedral is still being built today (and we had thought the scaffolding was just for renovation!) Gaudi died in the early to mid 1900s, but his original design is still being followed as precisely as possible. Most of us took the elevator to the top for an incredible view of the city. Without guardrails or any safety devices to protect us, I was reminded once again that I wasn’t in the States.

At 1.15 p.m. we visited Casa Milà (Pedrera). These are apartments designed by Gaudi, a complete architect. This means that he not only designed the building, but everything inside it as well (furniture, lighting, etc.). After ALL we saw of Gaudi’s this weekend, I must say I’m extremely impressed by the man.

We didn’t get to eat lunch until 3:30pm. Excuse me is this some kind of sick joke? This is even pretty late for a Spanish lunch. By the time we were dropped off at Las Ramblas (a huge shopping strip by the harbor), we were all extremely fussy. About ten of us chose an Italian restaurant where a coke light cost almost as much as a meal; however, I finding this to be pretty commonplace here in Spain. Leah and I split four-cheese fettuccini, the boys got paella AND pizzas, and others got Menus del Dia.
After lunch, I met up with Alex who was already in the area of Las Ramblas at a friend’s apartment. We walked along the harbor and to the beach. Despite the overcast sky and 50-degree weather, it was so beautiful sitting in the sand looking out on the water. The proximity of city high rises to palm trees and beach creates a very distinct urban tropical mix. Next, we left to walk around the Olympic Village and returned to Las Ramblas for dinner. I got a Greek salad tapa (essentially tomato, mozzarella, and pickles I think?) while Alex got a Menu del Dia (salad and seafood paella). We both ordered sangria, and it almost measured up to the kind we made in Florida over winter break...almost. I enjoyed the fact that the waiter brought me a significantly larger glass than his. After dinner, we headed back to my hotel and Alex waited patiently as I dropped off my things and showered. We made the metro ride back to his apartment, picked up some wine from the general store (with a cashier Alex and his friends have affectionately named “Gracias”) around the corner and called it a night. We decided to be lame for the third night in a row since Sunday nights in the clubs just aren’t the same and since I had to get up early to leave the next morning. And when Monday morning rolled around, I was more than pleased with that decision.

LUNES 2 DE MARZO
Enjoyed our last buffet breakfast and boarded the bus to leave at 8:30am. We made two stops as before, but no goodies from JMU this time. Boo. We watched Happy Feet and Superman in Spanish and arrived home in Salamanca at 7:30. Madre made Allison and I a really delicious garbanzo bean salad with red peppers and onions, and a beef and carrot stew for dinner (no doubt from the siesta lunch we had missed). It felt good to go to bed early for a change.

Spanish Remedies

Thursday was rough as well. I woke up at 11 after 12 hours of sleep, showered, but had to return to bed immediately after. I stayed in bed all day and even missed siesta (we had lomo *tear*). The fact that I had only eaten 2 pieces of fruit and some crackers before dinnertime was a pretty clear indicator of my sickness. Allison offered to take notes for me in our 5pm Spanish Civ. class so I could sleep and I gladly accepted. I couldn’t imagine braving another one of those shaky 20-minute walks. Dear Jesus had made me an appointment for 6:30pm that evening. I stopped by the JMU office for a few minutes beforehand and Don Corbin was kind enough to walk me to the Doctor’s. For the 40 minutes I waited in the waiting room, I only talked to the doctor for about 2. When the nurse finally called my name and opened the door I was confused as to where to go. "It couldn’t be the room to my right," I thought, "that’s someone’s office." But that’s exactly where she wanted me to go. I walked and sat down awkwardly as he just starred at me saying nothing. Ok, I guess he’s not going to be friendly and ask me how I’m doing, so I jumped right in and began listing my symptoms. I have to say I was pretty excited to say, “estoy muy constipada” which means I am very congested. He just nodded and asked to look at my throat. With two or three turns of his laser flashlight, he concluded that I had strep. Only in Spain would the white spots on my throat be convincing enough for the doctor. I was actually pretty relieved he didn’t give me the swab test though; it's one of my all-time weaknesses. And that was that. I took my prescription to the nearby pharmacy and picked up a box of three pills (also only in Spain would they give you a mere 3 days worth of antibiotics) for almost 9 euros. These pills better be made of gold and magic fairy dust.

I returned home where Acension made us fish and salad for dinner. Is she serious? What person (especially a madre) makes fish for someone who doesn’t feel good? This was the absolute last thing I wanted. I started getting homesick for my real madre, who would have known that all I wanted was saltine crackers with cream cheese, soup, and ginger ale. Later, it took me about three hours to pack for Barcelona. I’d put socks and pajamas in my bag and have to lay down--jeans, bed, toiletries, bed, pajamas, bed. Madre suggested that I stay home this weekend if I didn’t feel better Friday morning. Talk about the most depressing weekend of my life! I was determined to be ready to make the trip. At around 6:30am I woke up to sweet madre, huge floral nightgown and all, coming to assess the status of my health. She was serious. Praise God I felt like a real person (no more Zombie) that morning☺