The End

Overall, I'd give Madrid an A+. I had a wonderful host family, great teachers, and a beatiful, vibrant city to explore. It was so fantastic meeting people from around the world, navigating my surroundings in a foreign language, and just soaking up Europe. Can't wait for next summer to do it all over again! Where to next? Argentina? Equador? Paris?

The Notebook

After class, I headed out with some friends to hit the Madridian equivalent of Central Park. In the center of the park is this amazing lake, where you can rent boats and paddle around.

We all took turns, but of course, I was dubbed the best paddler. The other girls survived about 30 seconds of paddling in a circle before quitting. Regardless, it was a blast!

After Earth

Going to see After Earth in the theatre was aweseome. I understood a lot, like "señor, sí señor" (sir, yes, sir!) and "es una orden" (that's an order). Very complicated stuff going on in that movie. :)

Anyway, I was a rebel and went and sat in a seat of my choosing instead of my assigned spot. I curled up with Lemon Fanta and Spanish M&Ms and got a real kick out of it. Good times.

Dis-Service

Yesterday, a friend and I took a double decker bus tour of the city. I decided Monday would be a good day to do this, since almost all museums and tourist spots are closed on Mondays. It was a great opportunity to see the whole city and pass various sites that we otherwise might not have seen.

After the 3 hour tour, we decided we were hungry and went to grab lunch. We found a restaurant with an enticing poster of their sandwiches. The picture was so compelling, that we had to go in and try them. The hostess asked us how many people were eating with us, and proceeded to walk us to our table. She gave us a menu, which we flipped through, and were unable to locate any sandwiches.


WARNING: All of the following interactions occurred in Spanish.


When the waiter arrived, I asked him where the sandwiches were on the menu. He told me that the section of the restaurant we were seated in did not serve sandwiches, we would have to be on the other side of the restaurant to eat sandwiches. I didn't understand how we were supposed to know that, so I told him. I'm sorry, we didn't realize that, can we please switch to that part of the restaurant. His response: I'm sorry, but you're already seated. This was not a misunderstanding, this was just straight up rude.

I tried to control myself, and my friend and I agreed to just suck it up and order off the menu - everything would be fine. When he came back to take our order, he proceeded to take my friend's order, and then collect all the menus and leave. He didn't look at me, or even stop to ask if I wanted anything. He literally blew me off and walked away like he couldn't leave our table fast enough. After lifting my jaw off the floor and regaining composure - kind of, because I was honestly enraged at this point (that is fancy for completely pissed off) - I stood up to go talk to him. Upon seeing me stand up, he called across he restroom to tell me the restrooms were down the other hall. Thank you sir, but I don't want a bathroom, I want food.

As my friend just sat their sipping beer, I went up to the waiter and asked him why he did not want to take my order. He explained that he thought I wanted to use the bathroom, not eat food. To which I had to further explain that he only took my friends order. At this point I was getting loud, and his co-workers were beginning to listen in. I explained, in plain English Spanish, that I would like to order food, and would he please be so kind as to take my order. At this point, he began backpedaling and started making excuses for himself that he thought my friend had ordered for the both of us - this of course makes no sense given the size of what my friend ordered, but at least his fellow waiters relaxed a little and it bought him time to fix his mess.

From that moment on, he totally changed his character, and began kissing my feet. I found out later this is because complaint forms are standard protocol in Spain, and had I asked for one (because at this point he realized I knew what I was talking about) he could have been fired. He gave us free drinks when he brought out the check - and a free refill, and proceeded to apologize every time he came back to our table.

It was clearly a total act, and I did not give in. He was a total donkey, and his behavior was completely uncalled for. Good grief!

A Little Bribery goes a Long Way

My host-sister finished up with school this past Friday. Ever since then, she and her best friend have been hanging around the house, completely glued to any and all types of screens. Phones, televisions, computers, video games etc. For the majority of the world, I realize that's what summer is about...but it was clear that they both needed to get some fresh air when I came home yesterday to find them playing on screens in completely different parts of the house.

Anyway, I asked them both if they wanted to come with me to go see one of the big Spanish malls. They reluctantly agreed to do so, but in a, "I'll agree to go if you just stop talking to me right now sort of way." While they were waiting for me to change and grab my bag, they re-glued themselves to their screens in the living room with the rest of the family. I was concerned they were lost for good into the world, and completely oblivious to their surroundings. To test my hypothesis, I said in English (because the parents don't speak a word of English) "Anyone out the door in the next two minutes gets a free ice cream." BAM! All the remotes dropped to the floor, and what ensued was an all out spring to the door. Amazing.

Manners - Lost in Translation

As I've written about before, there were originally three Chinese and three Americans in my Spanish class. This has changed from week to week as people come and go, but there is still a core group of students in the class who have been there as long or longer than myself. One of the very quiet Chinese boys invited us over to his apartment for dinner on Sunday. He's super sweet, and it was impossible for us to say no - plus, he was very insistent about it, and followed up 18 times with each of us, both in person and via email or text.

We decided as a class to eat earlier than Standard Spanish Dinner Time, since none of us are actually Spanish. As such, we agreed to be at his apartment at 5:00 for dinner. When we got there, nothing had been cooked. There was raw meat and unprepared vegetables in the kitchen, as if they had just finished shopping for the party. The two Chinese girls, who had met the Chinese host only 7 weeks prior, spent the entire next three hours in the kitchen making dinner. We (the guests) were not allowed to help, and the host did not lift a single finger to help them. Literally, he had invited the other girls over just to cater his party - can you imagine? He would go check on them, and then shut the door to the kitchen and come sit awkwardly in silence with his guests.

When the girls finally finished cooking, they emerged from the kitchen with literally 10 different plates. It was phenomenal. I've never tasted food like that in my life, and is now completely clear to me that American Chinese food is as far from Chinese as Papa John's is from Italian. I mean seriously, it was amazing - I'm considering putting in a vote for an authentic Chinese food Thanksgiving this year.

Anyway, the most notable discomfort I experienced during our stay, was the behavior of my fellow American. Oh good grief. The girls had actually cooked 9 plates. The host came out of the kitchen, worried there wouldn't be enough food (even though there was enough to feed an army) and asked us if he should order duck. Everyone, except for my fellow American was like, "oh no, there's plenty, don't worry about it, etc." My fellow American? "That sounds good to me!" So no joke, our host got on the phone and ordered more food via Chinese Delivery. After that, when offered coke, the American inquired, "Was that diet I saw earlier in the kitchen?" - of course, the nuance of that questions wasn't fully understood by the other cultures at the table, but my skin was beginning to crawl.

After that, the American proceeded to eat serving upon serving upon serving of food. At one point, when we had run out of food, he began eying the unfinished soup of his neighbor. She offered him her soup, to which he responded "I couldn't possibly - I don't want to draw too much attention to myself." My response - and yes I said this out loud - "Too late."

Anyway, after dinner we all tried to help clean up, but for the most part were turned down. However, when the American offered to clean the table, our host (not as naive as one might have originally thought) proceeded to bring out a broom, a dust pan, a mop, and a bucked of water. I literally almost died of internal laughter. It was truly the icing on the cake.

All in all, it was an amazing meal. I have no idea how to express my thanks to the two girls who prepared the meal. It was truly out of this world.

In Uniform

My collectors item of choice on my travels is soccer jerseys. I've been trying to find one here - either for Real Madrid or for the Spanish national team - but unless I'm willing to part with my first-born child, it is next to impossible. These people say they're in an economic crisis, but they're all willing to pay out the wazoo for what they call "official" jerseys.

As it happens, I was at a big and very famous outdoor market on Sunday. It's called the Rastro. There were almost a thousand different stalls, altogether selling everything you could ever imagine. You have to be careful at this Sunday market, because it is just as famous for its offerings as it is for its pickpockets. Anyway, when I was there, I was able to find a jersey to remember my trip by. I am know totally clear on what "unofficial" jerseys are. Super crappy, uncomfortable material. Lucky for me, I fit into kids sizes here, so I was able to get it for about $20. Funny to me how there is no middle ground when it comes to the soccer jerseys here....but I guess it's like the fans. You're either a fanatic, or you're not. There's no such thing as a person who kind-of follows soccer here. As it's been described to me, futbol is basically a religion.

American Slang

My friend from Oklahoma was seriously trying to convince the class that words like "yonder" and "reckon" are regular parts of the English language. I say y'all when I'm in Texas, but I'm under no illusion that the word is commonly accepted. Pretty cool that we can fight in Spanish, but seriously? Could you imagine one of our Spanish friends getting of the plane and saying "I reckon your house is yonder from here?" Good grief, y'all!

Technical Difficulties

Sorry I've been off the grid for so long! My power cord is on the fritz. I thought the computer was totally dead, but it turns out that if I turn it upside down and sideways, it will at least attempt to charge....assuming I hold the power cord in place the whole time.

I'm going to try and cover as much as I can in the next hour before the computer dies again....but all you really need to know is that Spain is phenomenal, and people are crazy-quirky - no matter where they come from.

2 Museums and a Movie

I was so committed to not repeating the 18 hour hibernation of last Saturday that I reluctantly set an alarm for this morning. It turned out not to matter - I slept right through it, if it even went off. 13 hours is better than 18....but seriously?

I set out to see the Reina Sofia Museum of Modern Art - boring. Definitely not my style, and the audio guide was no more interesting. The best part was walking into one exhibit to find 5 parakeets squawking at me - modern art? I wandered around - fancy description of getting lost - for half an hour just to make it worth the free student entrance, and then hit the streets again.

I headed next to the Thyssen private museum, which was more my speed. There was amazingly famous artwork from all regions and parts of history. I am not one for art - but I thought it was super cool. The Prado has still won my heart, but I'll give this museum the silver medal.

After that, I was exhausted. It was too early to go home for dinner - because at 6pm there's still 4 hours to go. I decided to go to the movie theater, where I watched Monsters University in Spanish! I kind of got in trouble because I didn't realized that they use an assigned seating system, but once we worked that out I was able to relax in the AC and test out my language skills. Lucky for me, kids movies are pretty straightforward, so although my listening comprehension was not that great, I still understood what was going on.

Now I'm back - and exhausted! I need to plan tomorrow's adventure...probably a trip to the Sunday markets....and then my class is having dinner at someone's house in the late afternoon.

1 more week in Spain!

Host Family

I just realized it's been almost a week and a half and I haven't explained my living situation! I have the good fortune of living in an apartment that is located one block away from the school. This is considered extremely lucky since most students have to take the metro to school, or in some cases a thirty minute bus ride into the city.

The family I am living with has a fourteen year old daughter. She plays tennis and is about 6 feet tall. Her mom is a psychologist, and the dad is an architect. The immersion process must be working, because all of the adjectives I want to write about them are in Spanish, and the translation just isn't as meaningful. Kind and nice don't quite cut it.

Anyway, I come home from class around 3pm and they are all on their siesta watching TV in the living room. A few hours later they all go back to work. We meet up again late in the evening for dinner, and spend about an hour or more eating, chatting, joking etc.

My biggest complaint is that my bed isn't terribly comfortable. I've been talking to others with host families, and this is by far and away the best situation. They are so inclusive, but at the same time give me plenty of space. Anyway, staying here is super comfortable and definitely has contributed to making this experience fantastic!

Excuses, Excuses

It's been forever since I've written - well in traveling abroad time where each day feels like a week in and of itself. I've been way to busy having fun (and sleeping)...but here's what's been going on:

I've made two Austrian friends who joined the class on Monday.
I've added a two hour conversation class each day - also awesome.

Okay, I guess that's not that much, but it's been a blast. It's so exciting how fast I'm learning - we're having intense debates in class about politics and other spicy issues....and I actually understand what's being said and am able to contribute (a little).

Anyway, off to bed!

Sunday Excursion

I finally got mobilized around noon and headed out to explore Madrid, and hopefully the Museo del Prado. Along the way, I stopped at a local bookstore to browse the children's section in the hopes of finding a book at my level. The store was magical - like a Harry Potter Library. Lots of levels and ladders and nooks - it was so cozy!



The children's section was enormous and adorable. I got caught up in so many different series in an attempt to find the perfect read. I was able to find a kids book at my level, which I can't wait to read tonight! I also bought a copy of the Little Prince - I couldn't help myself. The idea of being able to read a book in three languages is so exciting! And it turns out that the book is actually within my reach (with a dictionary on hand) in terms of comprehension.



Anyway, from there I had to navigate the roads in an attempt to find the museum - not too difficult, but not exactly straightforward either. I can't complain, because the architecture and scenery was gorgeous! A classmate of mine had advised I bring my student ID in order to visit the museums at a reduced rate. Good thing I still had my Georgetown ID in my wallet - admission was free!



The first thing I did was find the Velazquez paintings I had learned about in the culture class. I'm not one for art, but one can certainly see why they are such masterpieces. I wandered around for a bit, but without much context or experience with art, I was kind of lost. I decided to buy an audio guide remote for 5 euros. Totally worth it! All I had to do was punch in the number of the painting and the remote would start talking. I learned so much! For example, the painting below was painted with the intention of being hung in a church on the right side. There is no way I would have known to view the painting from that side, and the change in perspective was impressive.



I also got to see the Mona Lisa!



Okay, okay. Not the original. Apparently this version was painted by his apprentice at the same time, in the same studio as da Vinci. After about 3 hours of wandering around the museum with a remote control glued to my ear, I decided to head home. I am thoroughly exhausted and ready for a late afternoon nap. Hasta pronto!

Things* There Are A Lot Of:

* Some items in this list are not PC, please skip this post if you are prone to take offense.

1) Grafiti
2) Starbucks
3) Dunkin Donuts
4) Starbucks next to Dunkin Donuts
5) Breathtaking architecture
6) People smoking
7) People drinking
8) People smoking and drinking
9) Couples
10) PDA
11) Dogs
12) Banks
13) Tattoos
14) Outdoor seating and eating
15) Asians
16) Lisps
17) Men with long hair
18) Police officers
19) High fashion
20) International restaurants
21) People in the street handing out paper/ads
22) Homeless persons
23) Culture :)

Carpe Diem

After a nine hour day (6pm-3am) consisting of Law and Order, Bones, Step Up (all in Spanish!) a family trip to go clothes shopping for Clara's (the daughter) upcoming trip I somehow was able to manage waking up on my own 8 hours later. Wohoo! 26 hours of sleep in a weekend is pretty impressive if you ask me - I better not wimp out on today's adventure. No excuses!

So perhaps I slept through all of my Art History classes (if I even took any?), but I had never heard of Velasquez before coming to Spain. It turns out he is so important, that we spent an entire culture class last week talking about him. It was actually a fantastic class, because the teacher was an art major, and was so enthusiastic about sharing the behind-the-scenes information about all of his paintings - you couldn't help but become enthralled. Anyway, one of the things she told us we absolutely, if nothing else, 100% had to do before leaving Madrid was to visit the Museo del Prado. Her secondary request, of the quirkier variety, was to bring a pocket mirror with us to view one of Velasquez's paintings "Las Meninas." Not sure what will happen, but I'm off to go see!

Good Grief!

Last night I fell asleep around midnight (on a Friday). I woke up at 6 today, feeling rather rested. It took me about 15 minutes of disorientation to realize that I had slept for not 6, but rather 18 hours. Oh my goodness gracious, what is wrong with me?

I just finished an hour of Law & Order (in Spanish of course), and am finally ready to sit down and tell you about yesterday - not that it will amount to any sort of explanation as to my more recent hibernation. Although I have to tell you, I came out of my room to find my host family exactly where I had left them, in front of the television, wearing their pajamas. Is it normal to be in your Pajamas at 6pm on a Saturday? Did they just wake up too?

Regardless. Yesterday during our mid-morning coffee break I ran into a Frenchman that I recognized from our culture classes (I think we're the only two dorks who actually go every day. I'm not sure why, however. The classes are fantastic!)It turned out to be his last day in Spain, and he told me he was going to go for a walk to see the important monuments and sights before his departure. He invited me along for the trip, and with nothing but my routine afternoon nap to conflict with the adventure (which I have clearly more than made up for)I decided to sign up for the adventure.

I am so glad I decided to go along. We walked around the city, and conversed for three and a half hours! The most frustrating part of the walking tour was realizing that on all of the walks I've gone on so far, I've come within 2 or 3 blocks of these gorgeous, important landmarks. It's as if the second I sense their presence, I have turned around and walked home.

Being a foodie, my favorite stop was to a famous Chocolateria to eat churros and chocolate. AMAZING.

I've got to cut it off here before I pass out - I'm STARVING! I hope people are serving food right now. At 7pm we're kind of in between lunch and dinner. Weird, right?

Coma de Comida

AKA Food Coma. For a person as passionate about food as I am, I can't begin to describe how amazing the food is here in Spain. The freshness of the ingredients, the flavors, and the variety are nothing short of phenomenal. For this reason alone I am seriously considering "missing" my plane home in a few weeks.

The locals don't just do Spanish food well, they do everything well. As you walk up and down the streets, you'll find restaurants from Persia, India, China, Mongolia, Italy, France, Thailand, Mexico, etc....all within a square block! (or in colloquial Spanish, a square apple). Not to mention specialty stores, such as the bakery and the butcher shop.

Here is my experience with food so far. Rule number one, serve bread with everything. And I mean everything. For breakfast I eat bread with Nutella, jam, butter, or cream cheese. The other small(ish) meal of the day is dinner, which thus far has consisted of bread, salad, a main dish, and a side dish. Oh, and wine or beer for sure.

Lunch is an experience in and of itself. First, you start with...you guessed it, bread. Then you have your first plate. I'd love to say it is equivalent to an appetizer, but in fact it is much larger. Then you go on to your second plate, which is even larger than the first (all the while consuming alcohol, of course). Next is dessert, followed by coffee. Altogether, this lunch experiences is called something roughly translated to "the food of the day." It is intense. It is to die for. And it costs less than $13 in total.

Here's where lunch gets interesting. Imagine coming to the US and seeing "Sloppy Joe" on the menu, or "PB&J." With no pictures or context, you would be completely lost. It seems that almost all of the platos have distinct names that bear no relation to their ingredients. I've tried asking various waiters to describe what each plate consists of, but to no avail - they speak super fast and talk about ingredients I've never heard of before. Unless it includes something simple like pollo (chicken), or a cognate like frijoles de garbanzo (garbanzo beans), I'm at a complete loss. My solution to this problem has been random selection. I just pick one randomly and see what comes out. This has truly been a culinary adventure, and has worked out stupendously so far. The only drawback to this is a complete inability to describe to anyone what I've been eating, as well as the impossibility of ordering again anything I happen to have liked (worst grammar ever, I know).

In conclusion, life is like la comida del dia, you never know what you're going to get.

Side Note(s)

I'm sure you're wondering why I've been writing these ridiculously long run-on paragraphs. I promise what I've written in the composition screen is complete with indentations and spacing, but the program has not been interpreting these breaks correctly. I'm sure there's a setting for this, I just haven't taken the time to figure it out yet.

In other news, guess how many Starbucks I've encountered on my walks so far....SIX! Not to mention the presence of one of almost every fast food joint under the American sun, except maybe Taco Bell and Church's Chicken....way to go globalization. Ugh.

A Walk in The Park

Every day after my afternoon culture class, I have decided to go for a walk to see what I might see. I try and pick one road, so as not to lose my way, open to going wherever it make take me. On Monday, I walked up a street that I would equate to Wisconsin Avenue in DC, going up and up and up and up at a gradual incline until I was basically on top of a mountain, without even having realized the elevation change as I went. There were a million clothing shops and everything else under the sun that would be considered typical on a city street. The next day, after Flamenco class, I went walking in the other direction. This time I found the best food in the world, with restaurants galore. Outdoor seating is the norm - and such a brilliant idea in my opinion. The weather is perfect and the ambiance is amazing. I found a pizza shop with pizzas that were as far from Papa Johns as coffee is from tea - definitely going there for lunch soon. My favorite, however, was accidentally coming upon a network o side streets that swept me up into another place in time. The cars went away, replaced now with more outdoor restaurant seating, craft shops, and people stopping for conversation. Not to mention the phenomenal architecture. The winding pathways almost had me disoriented, but I made it back before dark (not that impressive considering the sun sets at 9:45pm). In any case, today was a little more exhausting for me than most days. I barely made it through class without falling into my book - these 4 hour classes seem to be getting longer and longer - and after lunch I came home for a four hour nap. I almost decided not to go on another adventure, but never knowing what's around the river bend, I decided to go for a short stroll. Thank goodness I did! Who would have thought I'd end up in a palace garden within 5 blocks of my apartment! A palace. A palace garden. Are you kidding me? I'm so not in the States anymore.

Right of Way

I was having a conversation yesterday about interesting cultural differences between Americans and Madridians. One of the observations was that Madridians, under almost no circumstances, J-walk. Like never. (As an aside, during this conversation, we saw someone J-walk. He defended his point by claiming that the gentleman must be an tourist. I'm still debating this fact, but it's true, even in the safest of road-crossing situations, people have their feet glued to the sidewalk if the red hand is illuminated.)Anyway, crossing the street here is quite a production. They have the pedestrian crossing lights at most intersections(except the colors are green and red instead of white and red. Oooohhhh, ahhhh....)however, the crosswalks make a repeated beeping noise when they are set to "walk." I'm not sure if this is an accommodation for the blind or not, but I've actually started to get accustomed to it. I don't even look up if I here the familiar sound because I know I have the right of way. If I don't hear it, I don't move. The problem with this is that the same is not true for crosswalks that are not illuminated with Sir Green Man and Miss Red Hand. When I walk up to these types of crosswalks, and stop, I create angry locals. At these smaller crosswalks, Madridians expect you to walk, almost without looking, so if you hesitate or stop, it throws them off. They really take this pedestrian right-of-way thing to an extreme. If they even see you approaching in any capacity they are going to stop for you. Even if it seems there is no way you'd be at the curb by the time they had passed through, they will slam on the breaks if they see you approaching. I try and wave them on in that "just to be nice" sort of way, and I continue to get angry looks like "Just cross the road you idiot." I'm sure it will become more natural soon, I just hope I don't cause a motorcycle pileup in the process.

Cashing In

So the first day in Madrid, at what seemed to me to be 3am, but was in fact time for the traditional 10am coffee break, I found myself starving, dehydrated, and without any euros. For the first time in my life (or maybe the third), I played my adorable girl card and convinced an American to buy me food with the promise that I would pay him back. Of course, I fell asleep for almost the rest of the day, and wasn't able to exchange any money. On the second day, I decided to use the thirty minute break (in between professors - 2hrs with Patricia, 2 hrs with Carlos)to exchange money at the local bank. This was nothing short of a disaster. The first bank I went into, Barclay's, was quite elaborate. You open the door, and then have to push a button to make a glass door open into a what seems like a clear elevator unit. However, the other side doesn't open unless you do something. I wish I could tell you what that something is, but the robot woman was speaking and lisping so fast that I had no clue what I needed to do. I proceeded to walk in and out of the chamber like 3 times, trying to get the recording to repeat. Finally, a man came to the other side of the door. I was relieved that a real human had come to help me, and made the universal sign for "what in the hell am I supposed to do" (turns out that one is universal). He just shrugged his shoulders and told me he doesn't work there. I made signs to say I needed help, to which he responded very clearly with a "not my problem you stupid American" facial expression. Rude. I quit and went to the next bank. Another series of impenetrable gates and sliding doors. Then the next. Then the next. Finally I made it to BBVA, which was barricade-free. I was so relieved that I would finally be able to convert myself a middle-class American to a lower-class European (you know how the exchange rate is these days), I went up to the desk to change my dollars. However, it was not to be. Apparently without an account at the bank, you can't exchange money. Not for a fee, or a plea, or anything. They just flat out won't do it. The teller told me this would be true at all of the banks (thanks a lot Lonely Planet) and that I would have to go to a "Casa de Cambio" (A House of Change - kind of poetic, no?). So yet again I had to mooch off of the American in my class for coffee, and once again I promised to pay him back. Later that afternoon, I made it my mission to find a Casa de Cambio and finally get a hold of some Euros - even if the exchange rate would be rather steep. It took two conversations with police officers (located on almost every street corner) and a lot of patience to finally track the store down (it was disguised as a "We'll buy your gold!" store). I only had to cough up my ID and Jane Hancock to make the transaction, but in the end it worked out alright. I need to decide whether to keep converting the money or whether to just pull from an ATM and accept the fees...but that would require some research and some math. Yuck. On the third day (today) I was finally able to buy my own coffee, and one for my fellow American. From this whole experience, I learned that there are about 10 banks per block in Madrid, that Lonely Planet is sadly not an expert on everything, and that we clearly are asking for it when banks get robbed.

Opening Doors

Is it ridiculous to say that opening doors has been one of the most challenging parts of my stay in Madrid thus far? I mean seriously. First, the door to the classroom gets stuck, making each individual restroom break into an episode. I also have two keys to the apartment - one for the whole building and one for the apartment door itself. The first trick is realizing that almost all doors open inwards. The second is that you're not supposed to click the key all the way in, you're supposed to be just a smidge off of flush - like screwing on your Nalgene cap as much as possible and then twisting it open just a smidge so it doesn't get stuck. The problem with knowing in advance that doors and keys can be tricky, is that I prepare myself for an awkwardly long stop at every door. This becomes a problem when, in fact, you're not at the right door in the first place. Apparently Apartment 8 Exterior is different than Apartment 8 Interior. I literally had been trying for so long to open the door to the apartment building that I went to go walk around the block so people wouldn't think I was trying to break in. It was only as I passed up the next door, which also said 8, that I realized the difference. GOOD GRIEF! The next challenge is, of course, the apartment door itself. There is a really cool old elevator, which I don't use for fear of getting that stuck too (the keys are enough of a hassle). The stairs, however, are very narrow and steep, but the lights in the hallways are motion detecting, which is awesome! Except, of course, when you've been trying to open your door for so long that they turn off. It is exhausting going between arguing with the door and dancing in the hallways to keep the motion detector entertained. Honestly, I can't even get into the nonsensicalness of how the apartment door, which is on the left, then branches off into two more doors, of which I am supposed to take the one on the right. I already thought the address here was ridiculously complicated - why not just go all the way and say the 8th Exterior, 2nd floor, Left Door, Right Interior - and straight on 'til morning. A Dios Mio!

Arriving in Spain

Traveling to Spain couldn't have been easier - with the exception of the ridiculously short layover and resultant 1/2 a mile sprint to the gate during my layover in Chicago. The immigration process was so easy and the customs process was practically non-existent. And for the first time ever, there was actually a person waiting for me holding a sign with my name on it. What a relief. From the airport we drove to the apartment where I'm staying for the next three weeks. I sent off a quick email, dropped my stuff, and walked .01 of a mile to the Don Quixote Language School to take my language test. Depending on your level, you either take classes from 9am - 1pm or from 3pm - 7pm. I was placed in B1 (which I believe means intermediate 1) and sent directly upstairs to start with my class - of 6 students! The classrooms are well equipped, the class sizes are tiny, and the teachers are so engaging. For the first half we have a woman named Patricia, who reminds me so much of my first Spanish teacher Michelle Farrar. Extroverted, witty, intense, and with super high expectations. After that we get a 30 minute coffee break, and then have class with Carlos - a super laid back guy. His approach is completely different, and effective in a different way. For example, Patricia will interrupt you as you go to correct your grammar/vocabulary, and Carlos will sit very patiently and hear you entirely out before responding and rephrasing what you said correctly so you can hear the corrections. After that I came back to the apartment where I fell asleep until my next class at 7pm. There is a one hour optional culture class every day - the first night on non-verbal gestures. This class was unbelievably entertaining. Basically, there was a room of people from all over the world: US, Germany, Austria, New Zealand, China, Italy. The teacher would demonstrate hand movements before explaining the meaning, and people from different cultures would either nod with approval or understanding, blush or giggle with embarrassment, or shake their head with confusion. I was always in the latter of the two groups, discovering that we have very few hand gestures that have specific, daily usage in our culture. There were some like, "crazy" and "hungry" that I understood, but the rest were either bizarre or easily could be misconstrued for something more inappropriate. After class, I decided to just go for a walk, and enjoyed browsing in the stores and watching different interactions in the streets. The city is absolutely beautiful, and I'm grateful to be back in a walkable city. We had dinner early since they knew I was tired from my trip. Of course, early in Spain means at 9:30, which was such a struggle for me to make it to. We had a lovely dinner of food I don't even have words for yet, but basically consisted of a spinach pancake or something. Not quite a quiche, not quite a tortilla. I really have no idea. And then zonk. Bed time. Speaking of which....time for my afternoon siesta. This jet lag is doing a number on me. Hasta Pronto!