Monday, the Megan birthday celebration continued with dinner at Doner Kabap. This was my first time eating there and I was pretty anxious to discover what all the fuss was about. Thankfully my caña (small beer) and gyro turned out to be all I could have hoped for and more. I’ve certainly missed eating gyros about 3 times a week back at JMU. After dinner and showers and such, we regrouped at Jacko’s. A few friends we had met at Carnaval de los Toros on Saturday (Edu, Natalio, and Cesar (pronounced Theh-sar)) met us there too. Alex, Colleen, and I really like these guys because they don’t hit on us. It’s so nice to make Spanish friends and work on my speaking abilities. After Jacko’s we let our native Salamantinos show us around, starting at a bar called Daniel’s and then Kandavia. The thing about Kandavia, though, is that no one goes there until 4am, so as soon as we walked in I realized what time it was. Let’s just say I got home around the time I used to wake up for high school…on a Monday night. Why, Sarah, why?! I would not recommend this.
Tuesday, I did a little too much shopping (one of my purchases was a wonderful hair straightener though! Yay!), and went to the International Student Bible Study again. This time, it was at Jo’s (our leader’s) house about a 15-minute walk away. Here, we celebrated Crepe Day, and honestly, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Fat Tuesday. We each brought toppings for the crepes and, naturally, I chose to bring nutella. I’m really trying to get better at moving out of my comfort zone and these meetings definitely force me to do so. I met people from Austria, Korea, Germany, Zamora (Spain), and Argentina. What brings us together each week is our love for Spanish/Spain and for the Lord. The states, of course, are filled with an eclectic mixture of people from all over the world. But now, in this group of students in Spain, we are truly all foreign. The girl from Korea is no more foreign than I am. I’m still adjusting to this feeling, as I’ve never viewed myself as such before.
Wednesday, after Short Stories, I came back home, tried to nap, and went for a run in my beloved Parque de Los Jesuitas. When I hopped in the shower, however, I felt like I was going to collapse from fatigue. I laid down for a bit before siesta and for the first time I wasn’t even hungry for my favorite rotisserie chicken and baked apples. Madre was definitely surprised. I went back to bed after lunch and slept until my 5pm class. That 20-minute walk to the University was the shakiest, weakest, most difficult walk I can remember. When I started getting chills in the open-windowed classroom I knew something was definitely wrong. I was freezing in my wool sweater and jacket, where others sat comfortably in t-shirts right by the windows. I came directly home after class, popped in two Aleves, and fell into bed…still freezing. When I woke up two hours later, I was sweating (sorry, gross) and figured my fever had broken, at least for now. Allison and I had sandwiches, salad, green beans (yikes, I still really hate these), and Quesada (good, but still don’t know what this was) for dinner. I have a good amount of reading and such to do, but really haven’t been able to will my mind or body to do anything recently. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at 6:30, but I’ve heard the health center is kind of a joke. I refuse to be feeling badly in Barcelona this weekend!! Even Spain isn’t so “de puta madre” when you’re sick.

NOS ENCANTAN LOS CARNAVALES!!!!

(We love the Carnivals!) 

"This drink is sweet like you, haw-ney"

After about 20 minutes of deliberation on the bus ride home, Alexandra and I were STILL unable to come up with an appropriate way (or any way at all) in which to begin our blog posts for the weekend. Please don’t judge us for being lame; you haven’t experienced Carnavales. Actually, I’m not sure if Carnvavales are even blog worthy. This event isn’t something one reads about in order to understand, but something one really must see first hand. This having been said, I’ll try, and most likely fail, to accurately explain my Saturday in Ciudad Rodrigo. Donning fairy wings, tiara, and a butterfly wand, I caught an early morning cab to the bus station along with my fellow fairy princesses (Allison and Colleen) and 80’s chic (Alexandra). Despite the slightly embarrassing entrance into the station, seeing no one else in costume, our spirits were high in anticipating the day. Megan, Sarah P., Kelsey, Will, Julian, Danny, and Thomas joined us soon after (but without costumes because they’re not half as fun or cultured as we are). We arrived in the old Roman city, Ciudad Rodrigo, at 10 am and jumped off the bus, anxious to discover what these festivals were actually about. As we followed the crowd up the main road, passing an array of carnival rides to our left, we were soon relieved to notice that we now blended with a variety of others in costume. Before long, we found our way to the main attraction, where an everyday street had been transformed into a sandy bull-fighting arena, surrounded by makeshift wooden stands. Asian people openly took pictures of us as if we were monuments on a sightseeing tour and a drunken man dressed as a rooster proposed to me, all before 10:15 am. This, I thought to myself, is going to be a great day! Everyone congregated in the ring to dance, sing, socialize, and drink (never too early in the day here, I guess). Alex, Colleen, and I quickly made friends with Edu, Natalio (who called me princesa all day…I like him), and several others, many of whom attend La Universidad de Salamanca as well! We ended up spending most of the day with them, forcing me to speak more Spanish than English. So great, even though they said we sounded like Mexicans (better than having an American accent I guess). We helped them with their Spanish and they helped us with our English. I have to say that after feeling extremely foreign and incompetent at the Spanish language on a daily basis, it felt pretty good being able to tease a few Spaniards trying to speak English. Down in the ring, one person in the crowd would start singing a song and immediately everyone else would join in. This happened all day with a seemingly endless plethora of these jovial tunes. In America, we have Yankee Doodle, and…? I only managed to learn the first two lines of one of the songs: “Con el agua, me pongo muy mala. Con el vino, sano yo marido.” I don’t feel the need to translate as it doesn’t make much sense anyways, but apparently it’s a very popular drinking song. What can I say, I’m like a toddler learning and repeating anything I hear the big Spanish kids saying. At 1 pm, the festivities began, starting with the running of the bulls. At this point, we were seated in the stands (still kind of shocked these didn’t collapse beneath us), where we watched people followed by the bulls flood into the ring from the street. Guay. For the next hour or so, the ring was open to anyone daring enough to provoke the bull and run away…not SO daring, if you ask me. However, Julian, Will, and Thomas all felt that they needed to prove their manhood and entered the ring. Pretty entertaining. The entire time I couldn’t help but think, “This would never happen in America!” In the states, they would make everyone sign release forms. And before climbing over the wall and into the arena, people would ask, “Does my insurance cover this? If not, I’m suing!” Personally, I much prefer the Spanish attitude.
Afterwards, we met up with several other members of our JMU group, who had gone of a different bus, and enjoyed our typical huge excursion lunches (thanks, madre!). We really do love our bocs (that's a Spanish abreve for bocadillo, or sandwich). 

Bull fight at 4:30! Alex, Colleen, our new amigos, and I had spent a little too much time fiesta-ing in the street before realizing that there was literally no more space in the stands! This is reallu saying something too since personal bubbles absolutely do not exist here. But being the stubborn and determined girl that I am, I somehow managed to squeeze my way into the standing section in time to see the first of the four bulls die. Yep, that was just about enough culture for me. As upsetting as it was to see the bull afterwards, the matador’s footwork and the way he twirled his red banner was really beautiful and cool to see. You can’t get much more Spanish than a bullfight!
Next, Colleen, Alex, and I went off on our own for a bit to do some mingling and exploring. It’s a wonderful thing to be a woman in Spain. You feel so beautiful all the time, even at times when you’re not. Never before have I walked down a street where men will look at you and shout, “Hola, guapa!” (Hey, beautiful!) Hehe well if you insist, sir. I give the credit to all my blonde friends with whom I stick very closely. An equally likely explanation for all the attention we received could have been the huge sparkling wings, or the tiaras we were wearing, go figure. I’m so glad we dressed up! Being so obviously American, we also invited shouts of, “Obama!” and “Ha-looo!” Only in Spain would I walk down a street with an open cup of beer, stopping only to see different people filling it up with some of their own drink. Thanks, guys, so kind of you to share. As 7:30pm (the time of our bus home) rolled around, Edu and Natalio tried to convince us to stay until Sunday morning with them. Apparently, the cool thing to do at Carnavales is to stay out all night partying and dancing and then leave in the morning. I wish I had the strength, but like I said, I’m super lame by Spain’s standards. We exchanged numbers, so hopefully we’ll see our friends back home in Sal sometime. It felt so good to get back, shower, change into my pajamas, and eat a big salad with egg, apples, cheese, and tomatoes for dinner (a little random, but delish). Allison and I, always craving a little American TV, watched one of my Seinfeld episodes and went to bed early. BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.
Sunday morning, I met Hannah at Plaza Gabriel y Galan at 11:45 to go to an Evangelical church (probably the only one in all of Sal) near the train station. Another thing I love about Spain: 12pm church services. As soon as we walked in, the greeters gave us each the “double-kiss,” wrote down my name as a newcomer, and welcomed us into a room of about one hundred others. All the pews were facing each other (Jo, the bible study leader was facing us), with the pastor in the center. This is such a perfect illustration of how social and community-based Spaniards are. The pastor gave a brief talk, which was followed by a time of sharing. Various members of the congregation would stand and share a prayer request, praise, or a passage that meant a lot to them, and then suggest a song for us to sing. I was thrilled to recognize a few of these tunes from home and to be singing them with Spanish lyrics. It was a really overwhelming experience to be praising God in a different language with these amazing people in a country I love so much. God is so much bigger than I ever make Him out to be. After this free time of sharing and singing, we took communion and had a baptism. Another thing I loved about this Spanish church was that the children were welcome there in the service. No one cared if a little boy was running down the isle, or a little girl was cooing and pulling her sister’s hair; no one was turning to look, hoping they would hurry outside to “deal with that situation.” Being a newcomer, the pastor called me out by name and publicly welcomed me…kind of embarrassing, but cute at the same time. Super guay. I only wish our group was planned to be in Salamanca more Sundays.
Once home, we enjoyed a siesta lunch of white bean soup, salmon, and of course bread and fruit (what’s this?? A healthy meal!?) No siesta nap for me today, just homework. Later, Allison and I met Thomas at the train station to use the internet. Back home, we had fried cheese empanadas, more salmon, and salad for dinner. We finished off the evening in Plaza G.G. where our group met to usher in Megan’s 21st birthday at midnight, yay!

My Madre Gossips About Me

Alexandra came over yesterday to hang out for a bit before the movie. I offered her a cup of coffee as I made one for myself, but she was content with chocolate alone. When I returned home from the theater later that night, my madre greeted me with playful punches at my arm, saying how bad mannered I am. "Excuse me, Asencion, but that's rude." She was referring to the one lonely cup of coffee in the sink, as if I hadn't offered one for Alex too. When I saw Alex this morning and told her about it, she already knew. Asencion had already reported to Alex's madre, and Alex's madre to Alex. Sheesh, Spanish women.

My Violinist and His Dog

Last night, our JMU group went to the theater and saw a French film (dubbed in Spanish of course) called Bienvenidos al Norte (Welcome to the North). It was hilarious! And what's more, I felt so gratified that I could actually understand most of the dialogue to know it was supposed to be funny. While my speaking abilities may not have dramatically improved since I've been here, my listening skills undoubtedly have. Afterwards, we all returned to our respective homes. Allison and I enjoyed pizza and salad for dinner. I also enjoyed being super lame (by Spanish standards anyways) and stayed in to do homework and sleep on a Thursday night. I’ve been SO tired lately despite lots of sleep at night and siestas during the day. At least 10 people in our group seem to be sick at any given time so I’m trying to stay well.

Went on my fifth run of the trip yesterday! I discovered this beautiful park about a half a mile from our apartment called Parque de los Jesuitas (Park of the Jesuits, just in case that wasn’t already obvious enough). It’s huge and full of fountains, playgrounds, dirt paths lined with white stone, and of course, plenty of old people. The weather has been perfect the last few days: clear blue skies and in the fifties. Despite receiving some passing remarks from a few grandpas, I think I’ve found my new running spot.

For the past week, people have been dressing up and parading the streets as if it was Halloween and until a couple of days ago I didn’t know why. Tomorrow, several of us are going to Ciudad Rodrigo (about an hour bus ride from Salamanca) to dress up and be a part of these Carnivales. We’ll watch the bulls run and hopefully be able to see the bull fight! We’re so cultured. This afternoon, Allison, Alex, Colleen, and I went searching for costumes, where else other than the Chino Stores. This literally translates as Chinese Store (sounds almost racist, but really just means dollar store). What a jackpot for costume ideas! Alex is dressing up as an 80’s chic, while Colleen, Allison and I are going as fairy princesses. Super guay (very cool).

I went to café del arte today (the one where the bartender yelled at me the first week I was here). It was my first time back since the fiasco and I can’t say I didn’t feel a rush of adrenaline when I walked through that door again. Only after I had already purchased my café con leche, I found out that their WiFi hasn’t been working. Poop. I still consider my visit a victory.

And of course I can’t forget the inspiration for this post: my violinist and his dog. I say “my” violinist because I have recently become a patron of his art. Most mornings on my walk to the University, Calle Toro is filled with the sweet, melancholy sound of his violin. I always know where to find him, and can expect that his precious little mutt is enjoying an early start to his day-long siesta along side his working master. I almost feel like I'm in a movie, clicking my heels on the cobblestone streets of Salamanca, Spain, working my way through the bustling morning crowd, and being serenaded by my violinist. It's so picturesque and probably a little cliche, but one of these days I'm going to snap a black-an-white of this scene.

Arriba en el Club

In case you were wondering, the siesta chicken was just as amazing as predicted. Madre knows this is our favorite and so two huge legs of chicken were forced upon Allison and I...each. There was more cake too. Why why WHY!!!?? I may need a triple-bypass. Took a short nap after lunch and headed to horrible Intro. to Lit. (I am finally starting to understand him more though). After class, I went to the JMU office to make plans with Colleen, Alex, and Tori for our 3-day weekend in March. After a very stressful 2 hours of planning, we finally found a reasonable bus fare and hostel in San Sebastian. San Seb is in Northern Spain right on the water, and I've heard it's absolutely beautiful. I'm very excited to see some beach even if it probably won't be warm enough yet for sunbathing.

Last night at 8 (aka 8:45/9 Spanish time), Ally, Thomas, Hannah, and I met for a International Bible Study at a cafe near the University (on the same corner as our beloved Irish Rover). Sipping my cafe cortado (coffee with less milk than cafe con leche), I sat at a table with students from France and Wales discussing a passage from Marcos (Mark) in our broken Spanish. Way guay. It was an entirely new adventure as I realized I had never spoken about my faith in Spanish before. Through the huge cafe windows I could see the cobblestone street and the beautiful intricately-carved buildings lining it. And as I spoke with Juan, from France, and Joe, from Wales, I was overcome with the enormity of God, surpassing all language-barriers. With the risk of sounding painfully obvious, He is the same in Spain, in France, in Wales, everywhere, as in the United States. I realized last night how much I've truly missed Cru and Bible Study and everything at JMU that made living a Christian life so easy. 

Afterwards, I headed home for a dinner of Spanish Tortilla, salad, and mozzarella cheese (one of my favs fo sho). More cake at dinner too, which I couldn't even force myself to eat, so I shoved my piece in a glass for later (long story). Did some reading for Short Stories, and left to meet some friends for International night at Irish Rover. It was French themed (cause we ALL love the French) and FYI there are NO good French dancing songs...or just good songs in general. Once the DJ discovered that the music choice had significantly decreased the level of fun in the bar, "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga came blasting through the speakers and all was well once again. 

Enjoyed my cake-in-a-glass for breakfast before Short Stories this morning at 10. At 12:15, Jesus had arranged an "Intercambio" (exchange) between Spanish University students learning English and us (English students learning Spanish). As cool as this sounds and as beneficial as it would be for both my speaking and relational skills, I really don't like being forced into things. Plus, Colleen tells me I've been super cranky today (and it's not even lunch time yet...yikes). As we walked into the Intercambio, however, we were greeted by only 2 Spanish students who had cared to participate. How sweet, no one wanted to talk to the foreign kids. Colleen, Tori, Emily, and I casually made our way for the door and decided that we'd rather spend the next 30 minutes eating pastries at Cafe Quijote instead. 

The Things I Miss from Home

-Friends, Family, My Dog

-Red Pepper Hummus

-The Dryer 

-My Hair Straightener

-A Real Salad

-Walmart

Yep, that's about it. I think I'll just stay here and my friends and family can come visit:)

Just got out of Spanish Civ. a little bit ago, and it was one of the first days I actually paid attention in class, yikes. Given that I took about 5 pages of notes today when I actually listened to him, I figure I have about 25 pages to catch up on (hope my classmates took good notes!) I guess I'm still adjusting to the idea that I actually have to do work here. My life is so fun and free that I almost don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself in class.

In other news, I went for my fourth run of the trip this morning (that's an average of one per week hahah). I really love the nearby park. It's like a four-leveled maze where old people and families come to walk their dogs. I showered, had breakfast with madre, devotions, and headed to class. Madre usually starts preparing siesta lunch around 10:30am or so and we're always anxious to guess what lunch will be that day. Today, I spotted that rotisserie chicken and baked apples in the oven and I literally gasped out loud and ran to tell Allison. It's THAT good. T minus 20 minutes 'til chicken time.