martes, 31 de marzo de 2009
A Little Something from Madre's Collection
So madre found our stash of wine. We have a small window box outside our room and with the freak cold front this week, it serves a perfect spot for chilling white wine. Allison and I were watching TV and chatting with madre last night before dinner when she brought it up. With a huge smile on her face, she changed topics mid-sentence to say that our gran collection had been found. Yikes, que verguensa (how embarrassing). I could feel my face turn beet-red trying to suppress our giggling, while she hooped and hollered about it to her daughter Isabel. Had she seen this collection yet? And how funny that they put it in their window! Madre reminded us that she is supposed to tell Jesus since we're not allowed to drink in the house, but she assured us that her lips were sealed. Without suppressing this wide smile, I could tell she felt proud for being such a guay, badass madre. As she called us into the kitchen for dinner, I poked her and said that she was welcome to "our collection" anytime she wanted. She just laughed and grabbed her finest boxed red from the fridge. Pouring Allison and I each a hefty glass, she said in Spanish, "And here is a little something from MY collection."
lunes, 30 de marzo de 2009
Ay que pesas mucho!
Saturday afternoon, I made my way across the street to Cafe del Arte like always. As soon as I walked in, that same old bartender lit up and began spitting out, "Hola hola que tal? Todo bien?" (Hey, how's it going? Everything good?) I replied that everything was great, how about himself? "Si si todo bien. Cafe con leche?" To which I replied, "Si si claro, cafe con leche como siempre." (Yes yes of course cafe con leche as always). Ha, look at that, he even knows my drink! About an hour later, I went up to the bar to pay, and he says, "Hace un rato que no verte aqui." (It's been a while since I've seen you here." This spurred a conversation about our trip to Andalucia and where I'd been. No, I hadn't gone swimming, but it was definitely warm enough to do so if I had wanted. Looks like I HAVE become one of those regulars after all. Either that or he feels really guilty for yelling at me my first week in Spain. It's kind of guay to have a PLACE in Spain, one where they recognize you and know your drink:)
I returned home to watch Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (dubbed in Spanish) with madre. This was an equally bizarre and hilarious experience. As hard as it was, I pulled myself away from this captivating and meaningful TV show and met up with Alex and Colleen for an Italian dinner near Casa de Las Conchas. Here, you construct your own pasta dish...picking your noodles, sauce and toppings. We all got the four cheese rigatoni and split a delicious bottle of red wine.
After dinner, we headed over to a nearby bar (Erasmus--one of our favs) and met up with several others from our group. There was a big soccer game against Turkey on TV and so the atmosphere was that much more exciting. At our big table in the back, we split several "tablas" (small samplers of each type of beer they offer), but I was mainly just in it for the included portion of nuts. Sitting in Erasmus, immersed in the Spanish culture, laughing and talking with some of my favorite people, I had this wave of anxiety that before long we'll be returning home. I wish I could go back to the states for a week to visit loved ones and such, but then be on the next plane back to fabulous Spain.
Sunday morning, Leah, Angela, Kristina, Allison, and I braved the freak cold front and made the trek to El Rastro (huge outdoor flea market). I was immediately overwhelmed by 1 euro sunglasses, 2 euro necklaces, and 10 euro jackets. Only stopping to buy a white and grey plaid button-down dress, we left 45 minutes later. My hands were so numb I couldn't focus on anything but getting home. Thankfully, we'll have one last Sunday to hit up the Rastro, so hopefully we'll have better luck with the weather.
Last night, Allison and I met Allison Sachs, Annie, and Ashley at the Tea House to use the internet. After a delicious dinner of Spanish tortilla, salad (balsamic vinagrette!) and strawberries, I headed 5 minutes up Frederico de Anaya to visit Alex and Colleen at their apartment. As soon as I walked in, the grand tour began. Escoli, their madre, was frantic and raced to "clean" her already immaculate room. The tour ended in the bathroom, where Colleen spotted the scale and made some joke about how it's a sore subject with us nowadays. At this, Escoli immediately pulled it out and suggested that we weigh ourselves. Haha, what a funny old lady. As she hopped her small hunch-backed self on the scale, we realized she wasn't joking. Next, she turned to Alex…it was her time at the scale. Between our laughing spasms of disbelief, we tried to explain to Escoli that we had only just eaten dinner and really would prefer to not step on a scale directly afterwards. It was like she didn’t hear us though, because she only dragged Alex over to repeat what she herself had just done. She reported back to us Alex’s results and immediately shot a glance at Colleen that said she was next. Colleen reluctantly stepped on the scale. When her results were in, Escoli exclaimed, “Ay! Que pesas mucho!” (Wow, you weigh a lot!) Have I mentioned that Spanish women are brutally honest and tell it like it is? There is absolutely no filter with these chicks. Well of course Colleen is going to weigh more, she’s pushing 7 feet tall! That’s when Escoli ordered me to the scale. Was she serious? I just got in her house 5 minutes ago and she’s already weighing me in front of my friends. Does she do this to all her guests? But there was no avoiding it…I was weighed as well. Being that the scale was in kilos, we had no idea what the conversion rate was, and for once, were thankful for our ignorance. Only Escoli holds a mental record of our individual weight gain in Spain.
I have an eight-page Spanish paper for Independent Study and a five-page paper for Intro. to Lit. due immediately upon our return from spring break (aka I have to do both of those this week). Yikes, I keep forgetting I actually am here to study and do work as well. It’s so hard doing work though as I anticipate meeting mom and Bekah in Madrid this upcoming Saturday morning! Alex and Megan are meeting their families that morning in Madrid as well, so we’ll be taking the bus up Friday morning and spending that night in a hostel together. Alex has a stepsister a year older than Bekah so it will be fun taking them out together at night along Gran Via. It’ll be de puta madre.
I have an eight-page Spanish paper for Independent Study and a five-page paper for Intro. to Lit. due immediately upon our return from spring break (aka I have to do both of those this week). Yikes, I keep forgetting I actually am here to study and do work as well. It’s so hard doing work though as I anticipate meeting mom and Bekah in Madrid this upcoming Saturday morning! Alex and Megan are meeting their families that morning in Madrid as well, so we’ll be taking the bus up Friday morning and spending that night in a hostel together. Alex has a stepsister a year older than Bekah so it will be fun taking them out together at night along Gran Via. It’ll be de puta madre.
sábado, 28 de marzo de 2009
A continued list of things I miss from home:
-peanut M&Ms that don’t cost 2.5 euros for a fun size bag.
-to-go food and drinks
-being able to wear shorts, skirts, or dresses WITHOUT tights and not be stared at
-doing my own laundry (trust me, when something is dirty, I can expect not to see it again for well over a week).
-my own room
-American restaurant service on American time
-driving my car
-less expensive beauty products
-condiments on sandwiches and butter on bread
This entire week and next we’re staying home in Salamanca, realizing that with spring break and an excursion to Cantabria, we only have one more weekend here! Wow, I really can’t believe that.
Some of this week’s highlights include:
1) Going to coffee after Spanish Civ. with Andrea, Ally, and Allison Sachs at café Bauker off Calle Zamora. Ally had come here with a Spanish student a few weeks earlier to practice Spanish and was anxious to bring us too. I love how the people in our JMU group are constantly sharing cool new places they find in the city. At the cafe, we sat in woven-straw armchairs, Andy and Allison enjoying their coffee and ice cream, while Ally and I sipped on huge glasses of the best cappuccino I’ve ever had in my entire life…very telling.
On our way to the café we were stopped by two high school-aged Spanish boys wanting to take their picture with us. This happens far more often than you’d think. Spanish men seem obsessed with taking their pictures with American girls, even if they hadn’t said one word to them previously. The funniest part was how one of the boys chose to ask us in his broken understanding of the English language. “Please, a picture…WE (pointing at themselves) with WE” (pointing at us). We couldn’t help but laugh and shake our heads to say no thanks, but that only beckoned the stronger refrains of, “WHY?! WE…WITH WE!! WE…WITH WE!”
I can’t really make fun TOO much because I know this is probably how I sound to them everyday. It just feels good sometimes to see that we’re not the only ones struggling.
2) Yesterday after my siesta lunch and nap, I headed over to what Alex Johns and I had named “Bench Park” just down the street from our apartment. Taking advantage of the sunny weather, I stretched out on one of the thousands of rod iron benches to read some of my novel for Independent Study, Como Agua Para Chocolate. I hadn’t been there but 5 minutes when a cute old man noticed my rolled-up jeans and unbuttoned top and approached me. “Hace calor, no?” (It’s hot, isn’t it?). To which I naturally responded, “Si si de verdad.” (Yes, really). Continuing, he said “Pues, tu vas a volverte morena y bonita.” (Well, you’re going to become all tanned and beautiful). Not knowing quite how to respond myself, I guess he thought the next appropriate question was, “Tienes un novio?” (Do you have a boyfriend?). Ha! I guess age is of little importance in Spain, because the Spanish men have always got it ;)
3) Thursday night, most of our group found ourselves at one of our favorite bars, Atahualpa, where it’s only 3.5 euros for all you can drink bottled Mahou (only the classiest Spanish version of natural light). This place always plays old Brittany Spears, Outkast, Sean Paul, and others, which makes great dancing music while bringing back 8th grade memories. Taking a break to talk with a few of my girlfriends, I was startled by a man who had interjected his face a mere 3 inches from my own with no intention of moving it anytime soon. Can I help you, sir? After a minute, he said, “Eres Espanola?” (Are you Spanish?) Ha. It’s always interesting to see what pick-up line the Spanish guy will use. Was it my freckles, light brown hair, or the fact that I’m speaking in English with my friends that gave it away for you, bud? Anywho, this is how I came to meet Raul, a skinny Italian 26-year-old working in Salamanca until September. When an American guy gets your number and he says he’ll call you, he most likely won’t. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a text message saying he’s too busy to call. In Spain, however, if a man gets your number and says he’ll call, not only will he text you 4 times the next morning, he won’t stop calling you until you pick up. Yikes. Unfortunately for Raul, I will NOT be getting that cup of coffee with him this weekend.
Since I opened this blog with things I miss about home, it’s only fitting that I conclude it with a few more things I will miss about Spain.
-peanut M&Ms that don’t cost 2.5 euros for a fun size bag.
-to-go food and drinks
-being able to wear shorts, skirts, or dresses WITHOUT tights and not be stared at
-doing my own laundry (trust me, when something is dirty, I can expect not to see it again for well over a week).
-my own room
-American restaurant service on American time
-driving my car
-less expensive beauty products
-condiments on sandwiches and butter on bread
This entire week and next we’re staying home in Salamanca, realizing that with spring break and an excursion to Cantabria, we only have one more weekend here! Wow, I really can’t believe that.
Some of this week’s highlights include:
1) Going to coffee after Spanish Civ. with Andrea, Ally, and Allison Sachs at café Bauker off Calle Zamora. Ally had come here with a Spanish student a few weeks earlier to practice Spanish and was anxious to bring us too. I love how the people in our JMU group are constantly sharing cool new places they find in the city. At the cafe, we sat in woven-straw armchairs, Andy and Allison enjoying their coffee and ice cream, while Ally and I sipped on huge glasses of the best cappuccino I’ve ever had in my entire life…very telling.
On our way to the café we were stopped by two high school-aged Spanish boys wanting to take their picture with us. This happens far more often than you’d think. Spanish men seem obsessed with taking their pictures with American girls, even if they hadn’t said one word to them previously. The funniest part was how one of the boys chose to ask us in his broken understanding of the English language. “Please, a picture…WE (pointing at themselves) with WE” (pointing at us). We couldn’t help but laugh and shake our heads to say no thanks, but that only beckoned the stronger refrains of, “WHY?! WE…WITH WE!! WE…WITH WE!”
I can’t really make fun TOO much because I know this is probably how I sound to them everyday. It just feels good sometimes to see that we’re not the only ones struggling.
2) Yesterday after my siesta lunch and nap, I headed over to what Alex Johns and I had named “Bench Park” just down the street from our apartment. Taking advantage of the sunny weather, I stretched out on one of the thousands of rod iron benches to read some of my novel for Independent Study, Como Agua Para Chocolate. I hadn’t been there but 5 minutes when a cute old man noticed my rolled-up jeans and unbuttoned top and approached me. “Hace calor, no?” (It’s hot, isn’t it?). To which I naturally responded, “Si si de verdad.” (Yes, really). Continuing, he said “Pues, tu vas a volverte morena y bonita.” (Well, you’re going to become all tanned and beautiful). Not knowing quite how to respond myself, I guess he thought the next appropriate question was, “Tienes un novio?” (Do you have a boyfriend?). Ha! I guess age is of little importance in Spain, because the Spanish men have always got it ;)
3) Thursday night, most of our group found ourselves at one of our favorite bars, Atahualpa, where it’s only 3.5 euros for all you can drink bottled Mahou (only the classiest Spanish version of natural light). This place always plays old Brittany Spears, Outkast, Sean Paul, and others, which makes great dancing music while bringing back 8th grade memories. Taking a break to talk with a few of my girlfriends, I was startled by a man who had interjected his face a mere 3 inches from my own with no intention of moving it anytime soon. Can I help you, sir? After a minute, he said, “Eres Espanola?” (Are you Spanish?) Ha. It’s always interesting to see what pick-up line the Spanish guy will use. Was it my freckles, light brown hair, or the fact that I’m speaking in English with my friends that gave it away for you, bud? Anywho, this is how I came to meet Raul, a skinny Italian 26-year-old working in Salamanca until September. When an American guy gets your number and he says he’ll call you, he most likely won’t. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a text message saying he’s too busy to call. In Spain, however, if a man gets your number and says he’ll call, not only will he text you 4 times the next morning, he won’t stop calling you until you pick up. Yikes. Unfortunately for Raul, I will NOT be getting that cup of coffee with him this weekend.
Since I opened this blog with things I miss about home, it’s only fitting that I conclude it with a few more things I will miss about Spain.
-Hearing "hola, guapa!" (hello, beautiful!) everyday walking down the street. This isn't a creepy gesture in the least, but completely normal here. Everyone is GUAPA!
A few of madre’s famous lines:
“A Comer” (Time to Eat)…obviously at the top of my list.
“Voy a poner la cena” (I’m going to make dinner)
“Ya teneis la cena cuando quereis” (Dinner’s ready when you want it)
“Saaabes?” (you know?)
“O sea” (still not sure what this one means, but she says it a lot)
A few of madre’s famous lines:
“A Comer” (Time to Eat)…obviously at the top of my list.
“Voy a poner la cena” (I’m going to make dinner)
“Ya teneis la cena cuando quereis” (Dinner’s ready when you want it)
“Saaabes?” (you know?)
“O sea” (still not sure what this one means, but she says it a lot)
"Traela, hija!" (Take it, daughter)--hear this one at least 10 times each lunch.
And of course, the famous line of the fraudulent beggar on Calle Toro:
“Ayudame para comprar una hamberguesa que tengo hambre por favor!” (Help me buy a hamburger, I’m so hungry please!”) I hear this literally everyday on my walk to class and at this point have memorized every vocal intonation of his plea. Obviously SOMEONE is feeding him that hamburger everyday cause he’s still alive and kicking. One of the girls in our group was out with her madre the other week though and saw him in a suit, without the limp, so I really can’t feel too terrible for the man. Regardless, in some strange strange way I will miss his mantra.
And of course, the famous line of the fraudulent beggar on Calle Toro:
“Ayudame para comprar una hamberguesa que tengo hambre por favor!” (Help me buy a hamburger, I’m so hungry please!”) I hear this literally everyday on my walk to class and at this point have memorized every vocal intonation of his plea. Obviously SOMEONE is feeding him that hamburger everyday cause he’s still alive and kicking. One of the girls in our group was out with her madre the other week though and saw him in a suit, without the limp, so I really can’t feel too terrible for the man. Regardless, in some strange strange way I will miss his mantra.
Long Weekend in Andalucia
Just thinking about starting this blog post makes me want to throw up-the same feeling I usually have regarding the debriefing after every excursion because there is so much to tell. This excursion, however, is especially challenging as it was 5 days long and my absolute favorite of them all. Brace yourself.
We left the ‘Manc at 8:30 am Thursday morning and with three stops, we arrived in Granada at yet another beautiful 4-star hotel around 4:30 pm. Andalucia (southern region of Spain) isn’t exactly around the corner. At 5:30, we visited El Barrio del Albaycín where we enjoyed an incredible view of La Alhambra (Arabic Palace where Ferdinand and Isabel lived at one point) and snow-capped mountains in the distance. It wasn’t long before we discovered that Granada is a hippie’s paradise. There were packs of young adults in MC Hammer pants gathered together smoking hash, drinking forties, and selling beads.
At 9 pm, we enjoyed a fabulous buffet dinner complete with everything from buttery salmon and pasta to green olives and an assortment of cheeses. Besides the 50-some-year-old waiter hitting on at least 5 of us girls during the course of our meal, I’d say it wasn’t too shabby.
Later that night, I popped open my finest 69-cent white wine (that’s got to be a record…I’m sure the majority of that was to pay for the bottle) and then headed out to a local bar. My highlight of the evening was meeting some middle-aged Spaniards and being told that my Spanish was almost perfect. Pick-up line or not, I’ll take “almost perfect” any day. It’s so cool being able to have a debate about why Pais Vasco wants to separate from Spain and how their educational system is corrupt and real topics of substance in another language. We also met a football player from Kansas (who signed with Dartmouth!) and 3 girls from Denmark who spoke English very well. It’s like you don’t even have to try and you end up with new friends everyday here.
Viernes, el 20:
Remembering that incredible 70-foot long buffet was the only thing that dragged Kristina (my roommate for Granada) and I out of bed for breakfast at 9am the next morning. And it didn’t leave me disappointed. We were out of the hotel by 10:15am to visit la Capilla Real, a cathedral where Ferdinand, Isabel, among other Catholic kings and queens were buried. Next, we headed to la Catedral de Granada, because you can never have too many cathedrals, right? Besides the fact that I felt like I was in barefoot in the Alps the entire time we were inside, it was really beautifully adorned with ornate patterns of white and gold.
As soon as we were given free time, all the girls flocked to what I like to call “Hippie Street with an Arabic twist.” This is where the beauty of strong Arabic influence in Andalucia and the Hippie culture had a baby. I was surrounded by tie-dye dresses and handbags, jewelery, jeweled tapestries, shoes, bongs (ha), and more. Colleen and I left Alex alone for one minute and found her spending her last food stipend on a pair of green metallic sandals. This is how seductive Hippie Street is…never go shopping here alone. With help, I managed to leave with buying only one hippie sundress for 12 euros.
Around 2:30, we stopped to enjoy a delicious menu del dia at an outdoor café at the top of the street. Arriving back at the hotel, we slipped on our bathing suits (a harsh taste of the reality of what the Spanish lifestyle will do to your body) and joined a large portion of our group lounging by the beautiful outdoor pool. Later, we returned to our respective rooms to siesta, shower, and get ready for our evening activities.
At 7:30 we met up in the lobby to make our way to a flamenco dinner show. QUE GUAY! The food was pretty disappointing, but the dancing was amazing. I was fortunate enough to snag a seat six inches from the stage. This position, however, proved to have its less fortunate aspects as well when I was very close to being kicked in the face a number of times. I’d also like to send out a warning that flamenco is much more beautiful if you don’t look at the dancer’s face. Each one wore the most pain-ridden, constipated, spastic expressions on their faces the entire time. But maybe this isn’t much better than being told to plaster a ridiculously huge smile on your face in all my ballet performances. There was even a male flamenco dancer…I wonder if they feel the same way about men like him as Americans do male cheerleaders. All joking aside, though, he was hands-down the most talented. Alex and I also enjoyed being stared down by one of the creepy musicians during the majority of the performance. I’ll be sure to put up a picture…the gaze is INTENSE, but also pretty typical of Spanish men.
By the end of the meal, I was pretty stuffed and decided to casually “go UB” (aka UnButton my pants) underneath the tablecloth to allow some breathing room. It’s a sad reality, but this has become almost commonplace since arriving in Spain. Of course when going UB, it’s imperative that one remembers to re-B before getting up from the table again, and that night I neglected to do exactly this. Turning around to push in my chair, feeling strangely loose and free, I presented my un-belted, unbuttoned self to the party of 20-some people at the table behind us. Relatively unfazed, I simply adjusted and walked away. After feeling uncomfortable and out of place, misunderstood, and confused everyday for the past two and a half months, you’d be amazed at how much it now takes for me to get embarrassed.
Sábado el 21:
Enjoying the bountiful buffet breakfast for one last time, we packed up and left the hotel at 9:15 am to visit la Alhambra. This was by far my favorite part of the entire weekend, and I have the pictures to prove it. We spent a total of four hours roaming the gardens outside and the incredible Arabic archways inside. The perfectly clear 70-degree weather also helped add to its already seemingly fake appearance.
At 2:30, Jesus dragged us out to load the bus and head to Córdoba. The only site we visited here was la Mezquita de Córdoba (Mosque of Cordoba). Once again, we oo-ed and awed over the red-striped archways and the beautiful Arabic architecture. After briefing exploring the quaint town, we broke for ice cream and re-boarded the bus at 6:30.
Arriving in Sevilla, I almost had the wind knocked out of me as we entered the hotel. Suspended lighting, atrium-style levels…there was even a mini forest and large fountain! Hombre, we’re spoiled.
Mary (my Sevilla roommate) and I took quick showers and changed to be ready for a group dinner downstairs at 9:30. Sitting at a table with Danny, Thomas, and Alex, we enjoyed yet another incredible meal, which began with the closest thing to an American salad I’ve seen since being in Spain. While this still included iceberg lettuce, there was also corn, tomatoes, hard-boiled egg, tuna, and olives, and honey mustard dressing. After bacaloa (white salty fish) with tomato sauce and peppers, warm bread, and chocolate flan with whipped cream, and café con leche, I was full as a tick. I probably would have gone UB too, but I happened to be wearing a dress.
Tired from a long day of travel, most of us decided to enjoy a low-key evening, enjoying the luxury of free wireless Internet and the “champagne” shower setting.
Domingo el 22:
Another beautiful breakfast at 8:30 the next morning, complete with warm chocolate croissants, jamon, cheese, kiwis, yogurt, and CEREAL!! Although this particular selection didn’t quite measure up to Honey Bunches of Oats, excursions are always such a treat being able to eat cereal again. We are in college after all…it’s just not healthy to go this long without any.
At 9:30, we left the hotel to visit los Reales Alcázares. This was another incredible Arabic palace with equally incredible gardens, complete with tiled walkways, railings wrapped in lilacs, fountains, and ducks. This was yet another place we’ve visited in Spain where you could literally close your eyes, spin in random circles snapping your camera and still end up with professional looking pictures.
At 12:30, we left this Eden for la Plaza de España, which looked more like a semi-circle than a plaza to me. Semi-circle de España…really has a ring to it, doesn’t it. Besides the plethora of fans and scarves and souveniers being sold in la Plaza, I was drawn to the major cities in Spain represented on the perimeter. It was cool to see all the places we’d visited, decorated in their own ornately blue-tiled cove, our favorite of course being the ‘Manc itself.
At 2, we broke for free time, where Sasha, Alex, Kelley, Colleen, Emily, Leah, and I discovered an incredible Cuban café. We sat outside under umbrellas for 2 hours (in the name of Spain), sipping mojitos and gorging ourselves with Arroz a la Cubana, chicken and guacamole, and fried eggplant. After lunch, we met up with Thomas, Danny, and Kristina down by the water and decided to hop on an hour-long boat tour together. Although the tour information was pretty lame, it was a fun way to wrap up the afternoon.
The hotel bus picked us up at 6:15. After showering, checking emails, and changing, most of the group headed into the city once again for a tapas crawl. This is when you start at one tapas (like appetizers) bar, order one or two tapas and a glass of wine or a beer, and walk to the next tapas place to repeat the process. This is what the Spaniards do anyway, but being typical Americans, we filled up at the first place and only made it to one other bar for drinks afterwards. Activities like going out for tapas or for drinks or sitting in the plaza have become so much apart of my everyday life that I sometimes have to step back to remember how cool this actually is! I loved walking down those streets of Sevilla at 11pm, seeing people of all ages standing at outdoor tables, talking and laughing over food and drink. You can really feel the life pulsing through the veins of Spain.
Lunes el 23:
Breakfast at 8 the next morning, we reluctantly left Sevilla for Mérida at 9:15.
Arriving around 12:00 p.m, we visited a Roman amphitheater and theater. GUAY! So much of it is still so well preserved and the parts that were not were a result of Visigodos and other people groups coming taking the materials and re-using them for their own structures. I am truly blown away each time I hear about the Romans and their innovative ideas in engineering and architecture, especially when in our day an age it’s so easy to look back and label past civilizations as foolish compared to ourselves.
At 1:30 we were given free time, knowing that we wouldn’t be leaving again until 3:30. If you knew how small of a nothing town Mérida is, you would have been a little panicked too. We just about bought out the Spanish subway and the adjacent ice cream shop, both of which were being worked by one poor frantic man. Our presence had probably temporarily doubled the population of Mérida. After lunch and ice cream, Alex, Will, Danny, and I walked around stopping soon after for a café con leche at another outdoor café. I’ll probably have to slowly wean myself off of this café lifestyle before returning back to the states☹
We hopped back on good old Tres Pilares and returned home in Sal a little before 8pm. Before I conclude this extremely long post, I’d like to explain a little something about our love-hate relationship with our excursion bus, Tres Pilares, which has accumulated a wide variety of nicknames like “Tres P,” “T cubed,” and just plain “TP.” Driven by dear old Lucio (who not even the fluent girl in our group can understand), Tres P constantly smells of feet and BO, lacks ventilation, bathroom and legroom of any kind. And yet, we’ve become strangely attached to this disgusting bus over the course of our excursions.
We left the ‘Manc at 8:30 am Thursday morning and with three stops, we arrived in Granada at yet another beautiful 4-star hotel around 4:30 pm. Andalucia (southern region of Spain) isn’t exactly around the corner. At 5:30, we visited El Barrio del Albaycín where we enjoyed an incredible view of La Alhambra (Arabic Palace where Ferdinand and Isabel lived at one point) and snow-capped mountains in the distance. It wasn’t long before we discovered that Granada is a hippie’s paradise. There were packs of young adults in MC Hammer pants gathered together smoking hash, drinking forties, and selling beads.
At 9 pm, we enjoyed a fabulous buffet dinner complete with everything from buttery salmon and pasta to green olives and an assortment of cheeses. Besides the 50-some-year-old waiter hitting on at least 5 of us girls during the course of our meal, I’d say it wasn’t too shabby.
Later that night, I popped open my finest 69-cent white wine (that’s got to be a record…I’m sure the majority of that was to pay for the bottle) and then headed out to a local bar. My highlight of the evening was meeting some middle-aged Spaniards and being told that my Spanish was almost perfect. Pick-up line or not, I’ll take “almost perfect” any day. It’s so cool being able to have a debate about why Pais Vasco wants to separate from Spain and how their educational system is corrupt and real topics of substance in another language. We also met a football player from Kansas (who signed with Dartmouth!) and 3 girls from Denmark who spoke English very well. It’s like you don’t even have to try and you end up with new friends everyday here.
Viernes, el 20:
Remembering that incredible 70-foot long buffet was the only thing that dragged Kristina (my roommate for Granada) and I out of bed for breakfast at 9am the next morning. And it didn’t leave me disappointed. We were out of the hotel by 10:15am to visit la Capilla Real, a cathedral where Ferdinand, Isabel, among other Catholic kings and queens were buried. Next, we headed to la Catedral de Granada, because you can never have too many cathedrals, right? Besides the fact that I felt like I was in barefoot in the Alps the entire time we were inside, it was really beautifully adorned with ornate patterns of white and gold.
As soon as we were given free time, all the girls flocked to what I like to call “Hippie Street with an Arabic twist.” This is where the beauty of strong Arabic influence in Andalucia and the Hippie culture had a baby. I was surrounded by tie-dye dresses and handbags, jewelery, jeweled tapestries, shoes, bongs (ha), and more. Colleen and I left Alex alone for one minute and found her spending her last food stipend on a pair of green metallic sandals. This is how seductive Hippie Street is…never go shopping here alone. With help, I managed to leave with buying only one hippie sundress for 12 euros.
Around 2:30, we stopped to enjoy a delicious menu del dia at an outdoor café at the top of the street. Arriving back at the hotel, we slipped on our bathing suits (a harsh taste of the reality of what the Spanish lifestyle will do to your body) and joined a large portion of our group lounging by the beautiful outdoor pool. Later, we returned to our respective rooms to siesta, shower, and get ready for our evening activities.
At 7:30 we met up in the lobby to make our way to a flamenco dinner show. QUE GUAY! The food was pretty disappointing, but the dancing was amazing. I was fortunate enough to snag a seat six inches from the stage. This position, however, proved to have its less fortunate aspects as well when I was very close to being kicked in the face a number of times. I’d also like to send out a warning that flamenco is much more beautiful if you don’t look at the dancer’s face. Each one wore the most pain-ridden, constipated, spastic expressions on their faces the entire time. But maybe this isn’t much better than being told to plaster a ridiculously huge smile on your face in all my ballet performances. There was even a male flamenco dancer…I wonder if they feel the same way about men like him as Americans do male cheerleaders. All joking aside, though, he was hands-down the most talented. Alex and I also enjoyed being stared down by one of the creepy musicians during the majority of the performance. I’ll be sure to put up a picture…the gaze is INTENSE, but also pretty typical of Spanish men.
By the end of the meal, I was pretty stuffed and decided to casually “go UB” (aka UnButton my pants) underneath the tablecloth to allow some breathing room. It’s a sad reality, but this has become almost commonplace since arriving in Spain. Of course when going UB, it’s imperative that one remembers to re-B before getting up from the table again, and that night I neglected to do exactly this. Turning around to push in my chair, feeling strangely loose and free, I presented my un-belted, unbuttoned self to the party of 20-some people at the table behind us. Relatively unfazed, I simply adjusted and walked away. After feeling uncomfortable and out of place, misunderstood, and confused everyday for the past two and a half months, you’d be amazed at how much it now takes for me to get embarrassed.
Sábado el 21:
Enjoying the bountiful buffet breakfast for one last time, we packed up and left the hotel at 9:15 am to visit la Alhambra. This was by far my favorite part of the entire weekend, and I have the pictures to prove it. We spent a total of four hours roaming the gardens outside and the incredible Arabic archways inside. The perfectly clear 70-degree weather also helped add to its already seemingly fake appearance.
At 2:30, Jesus dragged us out to load the bus and head to Córdoba. The only site we visited here was la Mezquita de Córdoba (Mosque of Cordoba). Once again, we oo-ed and awed over the red-striped archways and the beautiful Arabic architecture. After briefing exploring the quaint town, we broke for ice cream and re-boarded the bus at 6:30.
Arriving in Sevilla, I almost had the wind knocked out of me as we entered the hotel. Suspended lighting, atrium-style levels…there was even a mini forest and large fountain! Hombre, we’re spoiled.
Mary (my Sevilla roommate) and I took quick showers and changed to be ready for a group dinner downstairs at 9:30. Sitting at a table with Danny, Thomas, and Alex, we enjoyed yet another incredible meal, which began with the closest thing to an American salad I’ve seen since being in Spain. While this still included iceberg lettuce, there was also corn, tomatoes, hard-boiled egg, tuna, and olives, and honey mustard dressing. After bacaloa (white salty fish) with tomato sauce and peppers, warm bread, and chocolate flan with whipped cream, and café con leche, I was full as a tick. I probably would have gone UB too, but I happened to be wearing a dress.
Tired from a long day of travel, most of us decided to enjoy a low-key evening, enjoying the luxury of free wireless Internet and the “champagne” shower setting.
Domingo el 22:
Another beautiful breakfast at 8:30 the next morning, complete with warm chocolate croissants, jamon, cheese, kiwis, yogurt, and CEREAL!! Although this particular selection didn’t quite measure up to Honey Bunches of Oats, excursions are always such a treat being able to eat cereal again. We are in college after all…it’s just not healthy to go this long without any.
At 9:30, we left the hotel to visit los Reales Alcázares. This was another incredible Arabic palace with equally incredible gardens, complete with tiled walkways, railings wrapped in lilacs, fountains, and ducks. This was yet another place we’ve visited in Spain where you could literally close your eyes, spin in random circles snapping your camera and still end up with professional looking pictures.
At 12:30, we left this Eden for la Plaza de España, which looked more like a semi-circle than a plaza to me. Semi-circle de España…really has a ring to it, doesn’t it. Besides the plethora of fans and scarves and souveniers being sold in la Plaza, I was drawn to the major cities in Spain represented on the perimeter. It was cool to see all the places we’d visited, decorated in their own ornately blue-tiled cove, our favorite of course being the ‘Manc itself.
At 2, we broke for free time, where Sasha, Alex, Kelley, Colleen, Emily, Leah, and I discovered an incredible Cuban café. We sat outside under umbrellas for 2 hours (in the name of Spain), sipping mojitos and gorging ourselves with Arroz a la Cubana, chicken and guacamole, and fried eggplant. After lunch, we met up with Thomas, Danny, and Kristina down by the water and decided to hop on an hour-long boat tour together. Although the tour information was pretty lame, it was a fun way to wrap up the afternoon.
The hotel bus picked us up at 6:15. After showering, checking emails, and changing, most of the group headed into the city once again for a tapas crawl. This is when you start at one tapas (like appetizers) bar, order one or two tapas and a glass of wine or a beer, and walk to the next tapas place to repeat the process. This is what the Spaniards do anyway, but being typical Americans, we filled up at the first place and only made it to one other bar for drinks afterwards. Activities like going out for tapas or for drinks or sitting in the plaza have become so much apart of my everyday life that I sometimes have to step back to remember how cool this actually is! I loved walking down those streets of Sevilla at 11pm, seeing people of all ages standing at outdoor tables, talking and laughing over food and drink. You can really feel the life pulsing through the veins of Spain.
Lunes el 23:
Breakfast at 8 the next morning, we reluctantly left Sevilla for Mérida at 9:15.
Arriving around 12:00 p.m, we visited a Roman amphitheater and theater. GUAY! So much of it is still so well preserved and the parts that were not were a result of Visigodos and other people groups coming taking the materials and re-using them for their own structures. I am truly blown away each time I hear about the Romans and their innovative ideas in engineering and architecture, especially when in our day an age it’s so easy to look back and label past civilizations as foolish compared to ourselves.
At 1:30 we were given free time, knowing that we wouldn’t be leaving again until 3:30. If you knew how small of a nothing town Mérida is, you would have been a little panicked too. We just about bought out the Spanish subway and the adjacent ice cream shop, both of which were being worked by one poor frantic man. Our presence had probably temporarily doubled the population of Mérida. After lunch and ice cream, Alex, Will, Danny, and I walked around stopping soon after for a café con leche at another outdoor café. I’ll probably have to slowly wean myself off of this café lifestyle before returning back to the states☹
We hopped back on good old Tres Pilares and returned home in Sal a little before 8pm. Before I conclude this extremely long post, I’d like to explain a little something about our love-hate relationship with our excursion bus, Tres Pilares, which has accumulated a wide variety of nicknames like “Tres P,” “T cubed,” and just plain “TP.” Driven by dear old Lucio (who not even the fluent girl in our group can understand), Tres P constantly smells of feet and BO, lacks ventilation, bathroom and legroom of any kind. And yet, we’ve become strangely attached to this disgusting bus over the course of our excursions.
jueves, 19 de marzo de 2009
Tandem Time at the DF'nQ in San Seb
FINALLY, the highly anticipated, free 3-day weekend arrived. Alex, Tori, Colleen, and I decided to brave the 7-hour bus ride in return for the beautiful beaches of San Sebastian in Pais Vasco (Northeast Spain). Pulling in a little before 10:30 pm Friday night, we were able to hop into a cab right across the street from the bus station. Thus began the HOSTEL DAVID EFFING QUINN adventure. Sweet Alexandra had taken on the job of booking our hostel weeks ago, but until now, none of us had known the name. Does “Hostel David Quinn” sound sketchy to you? Would the four of us be sharing the bottom bunk in David Quinn’s own room? This made entering the spacious, clean, 50 yards from the beach, free breakfast, towels, and WiFi all the more pleasantly surprising. Almost immediately, David and his precious Irish mother, Terri, had offered us to a wine and cheese in the kitchen. By the end of the weekend, we had become very close friends with DQ and Terri, two 32-year-old Aussie surfers, and three kids from LA studying abroad in Bordeau, France. I can’t believe I only paid 55 euros for three nights at this place.
After settling in our respective rooms (Alex and I in our private room and Colleen and Tori in their shared room), we headed over to a nearby supermarket to pick up some snacks and a couple bottles of wine. Later, we went walking along the “boardwalk.”I put this in quotes because it’s not your typical Ocean City wooden walkway, instead it’s a broad cobble stoned street along the beach lined with white iron railings. But that’s is pretty close, right? We ended up at a chic bar around 2:30am, which apparently was still much to early to arrive. I’m still learning. After about 20 minutes of lounging on the posh white leather stools, without one cat call, pick-up line, or even an approaching male of any kind, we knew something was up. Please understand that this is NOT a conceited statement. Rather, it’s Spain. If a girl doesn’t reach her quota of male comments or winks for the day, she really does feel gross. Amazing the things you get used to. As 3:30am grew nearer, more and more men came pouring into the club. Very well-dressed, affectionate men. Where are all the girls? It didn’t take long for us to put two and two together. Clearly, we weren’t wanted here. Why did this club have to be gay, it was right on the beach with a beautiful view! Tori was feeling sick and so had already headed back to the DQ at this point, but Alex, Colleen and I left soon after. On the walk home, we started talking with a local, asking about the nightlife. Please be impressed that we were even able to communicate with him as the dialect of Spanish in Pais Vasco is entirely different from Castellano in Salamanca. The conversation ended when Colleen tried to take a bite of the half-eaten hamburger in his hand.
The next morning, we helped ourselves to scrambled eggs, coffee, and toast…the closest thing to an American breakfast I’ve had in two months (nothing short of a blissful experience). The combination of waking up late, breakfast, and showers got our lazy butts outside around 12. Thankfully, the overcast 50-degree weather didn’t keep us from walking around and enjoying the scenery. We walked around Parte Viejo (the old part), not without shopping and café con leche breaks. Taking advantage of David Quinn’s suggestion, we enjoyed the BEST seafood paella I’ve ever had, about a fifteen minute from the hostel. Apparently DQ is something of a celebrity at this place too. Go figure.
On the verge of throwing up, we rolled out of the restaurant and made stops at the bike rental place, which was closed (this is when Spanish time is obnoxious), and the tourism office to pick of some flyers. I won’t get into this because it will just make me upset, but let’s just say that over the course of the weekend, we accumulated some VERY strong feelings for the man at the front desk. Thanks for being SO helpful buddy.
We returned to the hostel for siesta naps. Spain has made me into an old woman because I’m very cranky if I don’t get this nap on a daily basis. We woke up and made a trip back to the supermarket to pick up the fixings for a pasta dinner. This was an adorable and impressive dinner, both by economic and culinary standards. We even had an appetizer plate with cheese, crackers, and grapes. This began our impromtu party in the kitchen with all our new friends. It was so fun to be able to exchange experiences in France and Spain, and teach the Aussies a few common Spanish phrases to help them get around.
We all left and headed to a different club under the boardwalk (don’t pretend like you didn’t just sing the next line of the song in your head). And what a pleasant surprise that it wasn’t gay! Honestly though, I probably would have stayed regardless on account of the huge dance floor. Practicing my Aussie accent also kept me busy for a good portion of the evening. “Weh gah-in’ fah sahm behs in a bah in BonDay.” (“We’re going for some beers in Bundai.”) I must have said this one phrase at least 300 times in that 3-hour period. It paid off though cause I can pull off a pretty sick Aussie accent now. No bigs. Heading home around 4:30, I fell into bed knowing very well that we wouldn’t be sticking to our original plan of waking up early to go biking.
Once again, out the door around 12 the next morning, we were greeted with a beautiful day! Being that it was Sunday, the bike rental place was closed once again. Yikes, Spanish time. Continuing on with the plan, we made the hike up to a huge statue of Jesus off the beach. As beautiful as the pictures are, seeing the views in person simply doesn’t compare. Even though Colleen made me almost pee my pants a variety of times as a result of laughing attacks or the fact that I was very close to having a heart attack walking up these few hills, it was definitely worth it!
We headed back to the DQ to make the rest of our economic pasta for lunch and siesta for a bit. We enjoyed the early evening with mimosas on the beach, dipping our feet in the VERY cold Cantabrian Sea.
Regrouping at the DQ for showers and such, our entire hostel group headed out for the famous San Sebastian Pintxos (pronounced Pinchos) in El Parte Viejo. Pintxos are like little snacks that you have with a glass of wine of a cana (small beer). You’re given a big plate and you go up to the bar where they are displayed and choose the ones you want. This particular had everything from artichokes to bocadillos to croquetas and Spanish tortilla. This was a fun opportunity for us to share some true Spanish cuisine with the Frenchies and the Aussies. Returning to the DQ, Alex, Colleen, and I finished off the evening with 40-year-old virgin…thankfully, in English (did I mention that the DF’nQ also had an incredible collection of movies?).
Waking up before 10am for the first time all weekend, we ate breakfast (I am now sick of eggs), packed up, and still didn’t make it out the door before 12. Being the determined women that we are, we decided to have one last try at the bikes. SUCCESS! Obviously, Colleen and I got a tandem (2-person bike) and Alex and Tori opted for slightly less guay individuals. For an hour, we biked all along the perimeter of Playa de La Concha and beyond. This was probably my favorite part of the trip: another perfect day (clear blue sky, upper 60s), incredible view, my first (and probably last) time riding a bike in boots, and Colleen and I receiving plenty of “hola’s” from the locals. Do you know how hard it is to ride a tandem? By the end of that hour, we were basically a circus act. Returning the bikes with heavy hearts, we made a quick (yet VITAL) stop at a nearby Doner Kabap for lunch. We grabbed our things at the DFQ, where DQ himself called us a cab. The ride back was long and uneventful, leaving plenty of time to work on my 5 page Spanish paper for Intro. to Lit. Back to reality.
We only spent two days in Salamanca and now we’re traveling once again (this time, with the entire group). Woo I’m tired. We’ll be in Andalucia (southern region of Spain) until Monday evening, visiting Granada, Cordoba, and Sevilla. I’ve heard Andalucia is absolutely beautiful during the spring and the weather’s supposed to be in the 70s!! De puta madre.
After settling in our respective rooms (Alex and I in our private room and Colleen and Tori in their shared room), we headed over to a nearby supermarket to pick up some snacks and a couple bottles of wine. Later, we went walking along the “boardwalk.”I put this in quotes because it’s not your typical Ocean City wooden walkway, instead it’s a broad cobble stoned street along the beach lined with white iron railings. But that’s is pretty close, right? We ended up at a chic bar around 2:30am, which apparently was still much to early to arrive. I’m still learning. After about 20 minutes of lounging on the posh white leather stools, without one cat call, pick-up line, or even an approaching male of any kind, we knew something was up. Please understand that this is NOT a conceited statement. Rather, it’s Spain. If a girl doesn’t reach her quota of male comments or winks for the day, she really does feel gross. Amazing the things you get used to. As 3:30am grew nearer, more and more men came pouring into the club. Very well-dressed, affectionate men. Where are all the girls? It didn’t take long for us to put two and two together. Clearly, we weren’t wanted here. Why did this club have to be gay, it was right on the beach with a beautiful view! Tori was feeling sick and so had already headed back to the DQ at this point, but Alex, Colleen and I left soon after. On the walk home, we started talking with a local, asking about the nightlife. Please be impressed that we were even able to communicate with him as the dialect of Spanish in Pais Vasco is entirely different from Castellano in Salamanca. The conversation ended when Colleen tried to take a bite of the half-eaten hamburger in his hand.
The next morning, we helped ourselves to scrambled eggs, coffee, and toast…the closest thing to an American breakfast I’ve had in two months (nothing short of a blissful experience). The combination of waking up late, breakfast, and showers got our lazy butts outside around 12. Thankfully, the overcast 50-degree weather didn’t keep us from walking around and enjoying the scenery. We walked around Parte Viejo (the old part), not without shopping and café con leche breaks. Taking advantage of David Quinn’s suggestion, we enjoyed the BEST seafood paella I’ve ever had, about a fifteen minute from the hostel. Apparently DQ is something of a celebrity at this place too. Go figure.
On the verge of throwing up, we rolled out of the restaurant and made stops at the bike rental place, which was closed (this is when Spanish time is obnoxious), and the tourism office to pick of some flyers. I won’t get into this because it will just make me upset, but let’s just say that over the course of the weekend, we accumulated some VERY strong feelings for the man at the front desk. Thanks for being SO helpful buddy.
We returned to the hostel for siesta naps. Spain has made me into an old woman because I’m very cranky if I don’t get this nap on a daily basis. We woke up and made a trip back to the supermarket to pick up the fixings for a pasta dinner. This was an adorable and impressive dinner, both by economic and culinary standards. We even had an appetizer plate with cheese, crackers, and grapes. This began our impromtu party in the kitchen with all our new friends. It was so fun to be able to exchange experiences in France and Spain, and teach the Aussies a few common Spanish phrases to help them get around.
We all left and headed to a different club under the boardwalk (don’t pretend like you didn’t just sing the next line of the song in your head). And what a pleasant surprise that it wasn’t gay! Honestly though, I probably would have stayed regardless on account of the huge dance floor. Practicing my Aussie accent also kept me busy for a good portion of the evening. “Weh gah-in’ fah sahm behs in a bah in BonDay.” (“We’re going for some beers in Bundai.”) I must have said this one phrase at least 300 times in that 3-hour period. It paid off though cause I can pull off a pretty sick Aussie accent now. No bigs. Heading home around 4:30, I fell into bed knowing very well that we wouldn’t be sticking to our original plan of waking up early to go biking.
Once again, out the door around 12 the next morning, we were greeted with a beautiful day! Being that it was Sunday, the bike rental place was closed once again. Yikes, Spanish time. Continuing on with the plan, we made the hike up to a huge statue of Jesus off the beach. As beautiful as the pictures are, seeing the views in person simply doesn’t compare. Even though Colleen made me almost pee my pants a variety of times as a result of laughing attacks or the fact that I was very close to having a heart attack walking up these few hills, it was definitely worth it!
We headed back to the DQ to make the rest of our economic pasta for lunch and siesta for a bit. We enjoyed the early evening with mimosas on the beach, dipping our feet in the VERY cold Cantabrian Sea.
Regrouping at the DQ for showers and such, our entire hostel group headed out for the famous San Sebastian Pintxos (pronounced Pinchos) in El Parte Viejo. Pintxos are like little snacks that you have with a glass of wine of a cana (small beer). You’re given a big plate and you go up to the bar where they are displayed and choose the ones you want. This particular had everything from artichokes to bocadillos to croquetas and Spanish tortilla. This was a fun opportunity for us to share some true Spanish cuisine with the Frenchies and the Aussies. Returning to the DQ, Alex, Colleen, and I finished off the evening with 40-year-old virgin…thankfully, in English (did I mention that the DF’nQ also had an incredible collection of movies?).
Waking up before 10am for the first time all weekend, we ate breakfast (I am now sick of eggs), packed up, and still didn’t make it out the door before 12. Being the determined women that we are, we decided to have one last try at the bikes. SUCCESS! Obviously, Colleen and I got a tandem (2-person bike) and Alex and Tori opted for slightly less guay individuals. For an hour, we biked all along the perimeter of Playa de La Concha and beyond. This was probably my favorite part of the trip: another perfect day (clear blue sky, upper 60s), incredible view, my first (and probably last) time riding a bike in boots, and Colleen and I receiving plenty of “hola’s” from the locals. Do you know how hard it is to ride a tandem? By the end of that hour, we were basically a circus act. Returning the bikes with heavy hearts, we made a quick (yet VITAL) stop at a nearby Doner Kabap for lunch. We grabbed our things at the DFQ, where DQ himself called us a cab. The ride back was long and uneventful, leaving plenty of time to work on my 5 page Spanish paper for Intro. to Lit. Back to reality.
We only spent two days in Salamanca and now we’re traveling once again (this time, with the entire group). Woo I’m tired. We’ll be in Andalucia (southern region of Spain) until Monday evening, visiting Granada, Cordoba, and Sevilla. I’ve heard Andalucia is absolutely beautiful during the spring and the weather’s supposed to be in the 70s!! De puta madre.
miércoles, 11 de marzo de 2009
Girl Talk with Madre
Last night, after a dinner of salad and leftover lomo from siesta (AMAZING fried fillet of layered pork and cheese), Allison and I enjoyed a major bonding session with madre. Having had to bring in a recipe of a Spanish dish for Civ. the previous week, dear Asencion decided that a written explanation of Croquetas simply wouldn't suffice. No, we were to actually help her make them. This came as something of a surprise since we're never allowed to do our dishes nor help her at all in the kitchen. She handed me the hard-boiled eggs to peel and Allison a bowl and fork to start mashing. To make these little fried wonders, you start by heating up flour and oil in a pot (smells even more disgusting than it sounds). Next, you add milk, cheese (like laughing cow cheese), salt, and of course it wouldn't be a true Spanish meal dish without the bits of ham. Stir (in the same direction, mind you...SO important to madre) until all the ingredients are melted and mixed well. Pour the contents from the pot into the bowl of mashed hard-boiled eggs. Mix and leave out or refrigerate until firm. We are reconvening to finish the process this afternoon.
Our cooking activity spurred a conversation about a certain madre in the program, who doesn't let the girls enter the kitchen at all. If they want a glass of water, they have to ask her to pour it for them. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned anything at all, because our madre immediately responded with, "DIME QUIEN ES!" ("Tell me who it is!") Have I mentioned Spanish women love their gossip? She got a little frustrated when I wouldn't tell her and so she just started guessing. "Bueno, yo se que es Raquel." ("OK, I know it's Raquel.") I had to laugh because she was right. And the rapid fire Spanish began, telling us exactly how she felt about Raquel and her philosophy on housing students. No, no, madre, tell me how you REALLY feel. I know gossiping is wrong, but I was practicing my Spanish! It was my first sassy, heated conversation with a Spanish woman and I hope it isn't my last.
Yesterday after Intro. to Lit., Colleen and I got ice cream in La Plaza (highly recommend Irish coffee). This has been THE thing to do since it's been warm out. People lay out on the ground in the middle of La Plaza talking with friends and basking in the sun. Next, I went to meet Alex in Cafe del Arte to study for our Spanish Civ. exam tomorrow. When we started to compare our notes, it was funny to see parts of the lecture where I had clearly zoned out and other parts where she had as well. There were also plenty of Spanish words and names for which neither of us had the slightest clue to their significance. Relaying my notes to her, I started talking about Copernicus and his revolutionary ideas about the world actually being round and how the Catholic Church banned all "round books" and such. I must have said "round" a few too many times because it initiated a classic Alex laughing attack. Little did I know that the entire time she had been staring at a certain man at the bar behind me. Elbows on the counter, leaning on one leg, his rather maternal-looking bottom was VERY pronounced in a very typical pair of super tight Spanish jeans. And being the slick stalker that I am, I pretended like I was stretching my back so as to get a look as well. We really have to stop gossiping about people right next to us...but I'm pretty sure LAUGHING at someone is universally understood. Study session concluded. Good progress.
Still can't figure out why the bartender is so nice to us now. He even came up to our table to ask what we were studying. I'd say we're definitely working our way to the top of the regulars list.
martes, 10 de marzo de 2009
New pants for Luis
That's right, yesterday Luis finally changed out of his green pair of slacks and into a pair of navy blue. This is big. How big? Quite possibly earth-shattering. Cranky old Luis has literally worn the exact same pair of army green pants every single day since we arrived to Spain. The same lingering stains around the right front pocket are proof enough that they are never washed either. If I hadn't already seen him in his cucumber green cotton pajama set, I'd say he probably sleeps in these pants too. The pants change was so big in fact that as soon as he walked into the sun room for siesta yesterday, Allison turned to me (already having noticed the occurrence) and all she had to say was "pants."
I'm really going to miss being able to talk about people two feet away from me without them having a clue. My friends and I do this all the time on the street too. "Oh man, check out that mullet!" or "I really wish this guy would walk faster or move to the left." Let's hope I just don't forget and make this mistake when I return to the US.
Madre, however, completely disregards this rule, openly speaking about surrounding people (well, mainly just about Luis), who of course CAN understand her. Nearly everyday at lunch, madre feels compelled to tell us about things she likes, but her husband doesn't. "A mi me gusta mucho esta pasta y este tipo de pescado pero a mi marido no." or "A mi me gusta bailar y ir al cine, pero a mi marido no." ("I really like this pasta and this kind of fish, but my husband doesn't." or "I love to go dancing and to the movies, but my husband doesn't." I never know what to say...perhaps in her old age she has forgotten that the man she speaks of is sitting right next to her? I think she may be trying to send him subliminal messages, which I really can't blame the woman for. I'd probably be openly gossiping about him too if I had to make him a completely separate meal attuned to his particular taste buds and mood each day.
In other news, I've decided to make a running list of things I'll miss about Spain since I've already created one for those I miss about home.
Here are a few I've thought of so far:
-Smelling like an ashtray every time I leave a cafe, restaurant, bar, or any public, confined place
-Spanish time (hope I don't get any professors at JMU next semester that lock the door when class begins)
-A madre who makes my bed, cooks every meal for me, does my dishes, laundry, etc. (you have some big shoes to fill this summer, USA mom)
-A real night life (JMU apartment parties seem pretty depressing now) and the fact that alcohol is cheaper than water here...this will probably never make sense to me
-Being able to gossip about an unsuspecting person inches away
-My walk to class
-Siesta
-The FOOD, cafe con leche, Pans, etc.
-The double kiss greeting
-The cat calls (haha jk)
-The fashion
-Sharing randy (nutella) and an apple every night with Allison
Ahh there are so many more, but this is a good start.
This morning in Independent Study we were discussing the theme of prohibited love in the novel we're reading (Como Agua Para Chocolate). Alex was explaining her point, using a character named Jose as an example. But she didn't say Jose; she said Javier. This immediately set me off into one of my laughing attacks because while there is NO such character in the book, Javier is also the name of our beautiful Intensivo teacher. He had Alex's heart and mine at "Hola." Naturally, our professor knows Javier and this set him off into a laughing fit of his own until he finished our session with, "Pues, alguno comentario mas sobre el amor prohibido...o sobre Javier?" ("So, any more comments about prohibited love...or about Javier?")
Maybe you had to be there.
lunes, 9 de marzo de 2009
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.
domingo, 8 de marzo de 2009
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!
viernes, 6 de marzo de 2009
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!
miércoles, 4 de marzo de 2009
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'.
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.
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☺
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☺
Suscribirse a:
Comentarios (Atom)
