Yolanda Yusef was crazy scary during our final presentation. My group and I have been preparing our market research presentation for the past 6 weeks, all leading up to this 45 minute presentation we had to give in front of our class and another class of the same topic. 1. I hate public speaking 2. Public Speaking is harder in a different language 3. Answering sporadic questions throughout our presentation made it even worse.
Yolanda would stop us during our presentation and ask us questions about the history of the company. Luckily I knew this part and was able to chime in and adequately and articulately answer her questions. She would then ask us why we chose both a quantitative and qualitative approach to our research. I let my other group members handle this question. Finally she criticized how fast all my group members spoke, where we were looking (i.e. only at her and not at the entire class) and the layouts of our slides.
And then surprisingly, when we managed to finish the presentation she congratulated us and apparently...we had done the best thus far in the class? Not what it seemed like from where I was standing, but then again she had only pointed out really minor flaws in our presentation whereas the others, she had issues with their actual project, as opposed to the presentation.
I thought I'd add this in so that my mom knows I've actually been doing schoolwork / being stressed out about it. In twelve and a half hours I'll be taking the final for this Information Systems of Marketing class and from there, I will be packing away my Madrid life into two very full suitcases, having one last rage with my friends and catching a taxi to the airport to HOPEFULLY make it home in time for Christmas, my favorite of all holidays!
Perhaps I'll update from the airports, because apparently I have quite the adventure on my way home. Madrid to Philadelphia, Philadelphia to LaGuardia and finally LaGuardia to Buffalo International Airport!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
My Spanish Miracle
So as I mentioned, I've taken and finished three out of my four big final exams for this semester. Wednesday will be my Sistemas de Información de Marketing test with my favorite teacher, Yolanda Yusef. She really reminds me of my aunts from Mexico in that she's kinda loud and kinda nuts. Everytime I enter the class, generally early and before all my other classmates, she grabs my face and goes "Ay, Querida". I still haven't figured out why, but as I was telling my friend D, I believe it is because I'm pretty much the youngest and quietest person in the class. I have my suspicions that I am actually in a grad class, mainly because everyone in the class is around 23 years old, all my group members for instance, are 24. She also loves to make me talk about the United States, which is a little different, since none of my other professors have shown much interest in the topic.
Since the class is mainly focused on Market Research, she made me discuss with the class the concept of "door to door" surveys in the United States. Obviously I don't actually have much experience with this, but I can say it's plausible that these surveys are more accepted in suburban communities as opposed to city communities. From there we got into a topic of Jehovah's Witnesses. Yeah. Yolanda is pretty nuts but my class was amazed by the Jehovahs.
The other tests, were surprisingly short. The one I was most worried about was for my Historia Contemporanea de España class, which literally revolves around Franco. This is easily my most uninteresting class and honestly the one where I had slacked off the most. I even went as far to not read the book that was assigned. Although I had studied fervently the history in the week before the test, it was only the night before the test that I opted to finally pick up the book and skim through it. My eyes landed on the section "Milagro Española". I quickly read the section, actually finding it interesting, and then proceeded to pass out for the night, knowing that in about 6 short hours, I would have to wake up for the two exams of that day.
As it turns OUT...the Spanish Miracle, which I hadn't even heard about until I'd picked up the book, played a major part of the exam! I consider this a Spanish miracle in itself. Although since reading that one section of the book, I might consider actually reading the book, even if it is written in a Pro-Francoism stance.
Since the class is mainly focused on Market Research, she made me discuss with the class the concept of "door to door" surveys in the United States. Obviously I don't actually have much experience with this, but I can say it's plausible that these surveys are more accepted in suburban communities as opposed to city communities. From there we got into a topic of Jehovah's Witnesses. Yeah. Yolanda is pretty nuts but my class was amazed by the Jehovahs.
The other tests, were surprisingly short. The one I was most worried about was for my Historia Contemporanea de España class, which literally revolves around Franco. This is easily my most uninteresting class and honestly the one where I had slacked off the most. I even went as far to not read the book that was assigned. Although I had studied fervently the history in the week before the test, it was only the night before the test that I opted to finally pick up the book and skim through it. My eyes landed on the section "Milagro Española". I quickly read the section, actually finding it interesting, and then proceeded to pass out for the night, knowing that in about 6 short hours, I would have to wake up for the two exams of that day.
As it turns OUT...the Spanish Miracle, which I hadn't even heard about until I'd picked up the book, played a major part of the exam! I consider this a Spanish miracle in itself. Although since reading that one section of the book, I might consider actually reading the book, even if it is written in a Pro-Francoism stance.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Porto, Lisbon, Barcelona, and My Greatest Disappointment
Since I went on a giant and epic adventure over my long break, its hard to summarize it all into a compact little blog post. For those of you who know me, feel free to ask me more questions and details, no doubt I will tell you all about it when I go home ( 9 DAYS! ), and for those of you from Alaska who are my fervent readers, well...I guess I won't have the opportunity to tell you as I won't be going to Alaska anytime soon.
Porto and Lisbon were amazing and SO affordable. Other than the hostels where we stayed, we virtually spent NO money. Barcelona sort of made up for that, but really, Portugal is amazing, beautiful and cheap. Early morning the day we were in Porto, we went on a wine tour and tasting for 4 euros! Port wine is very very sweet and really made for desserts fruits and cheeses. It was totally worth it though, and we got to see the giant vats where they let the wine "mature". After wards we headed to this cute little restaurant right on the waterfront that serves Francesinha and its LITERALLY so so good that every time I remember it, I crave it. It's only made correctly in Porto, and incorrectly in a few other places of Portugal. Here is a picture that you can all drool over.
From Porto, we headed to Lisbon, which although they didn't have a food as amazing as the Francesinha, they did have cheap food and upon arrival at our hostel (which actually had the nicest staff in the world) we ran two doors down the street to the Tofa Restaurant where we proceeded to a plate of meat and fish respectivly, mine being accompanied by a piece of sausage, their version of french fries (flat and circular), what looked like pork (not a big pork eater so I skipped that part) pickled vegetables and an egg. We each had sangria as well as coffee, and the bill came to 13 euros!!!!!!!!!!!! We literally feasted for under 7 euros. That would never have happened in Spain, let me just tell you. The next morning we went and climbed up a giant ass hill to see the old Castle in Lisbon, and it has a really pretty view of the city. It would have been better, but it was really cloudy when we left that morning and at the Lisbon Airport, it had started to torrential downpour. Luckily we missed it all and managed to leave on time. Our friend Roofie and Di had actually come in that day, and taken a tour around the city. Evidently not too long ago, Portugal was hit with a massive earthquake and fire that burnt almost the entire city down. When they rebuilt, the King wasn't very creative and he wanted all the houses to be built the exact same to save on time. Here's what it looks like from the Castle.
And finally Barcelona!! We had such a wonderful time in Barcelona, other than that fact that everything was back to being expensive and we spent probably a full day waiting in various lines. Apparently we went at the wrong time to Sagrada Familia and stood in line for an hour and a half (again, sorry Tita) but it was worth it to see Gaudi's architecture at its finest. From the outside, the Sagrada Familia is really really ugly, and looks like a space ship dropped it off in the middle of Barcelona. Its all dark and black and kinda looks like something Ursula from The Little Mermaid would live in but when we finally got in, it was amazing. It was all white and for some reason really cold, but lit up so beautifully. The stained glass behind the altar was gorgeous but the most amazing thing was probably the ceiling. It was really intricately done and it seemed to go on forever.
And now I know everyone knows how much I've been obsessing over Puyol. To be fair, my uncle warned me he might not be playing...but December 7th, we ventured to Camp Nou to watch FC Barcelona play Rubin Kazan which is a Russian team from the city of Kazan from the Republic of Tartarstan (yea where?), but to my extreme disappointment, Puyol did not play. I got to stare at the giant that is Piqué for most of the time, and Messi was sent out in the second half...but no Carles Puyol. My disappointment surpassed the time I couldn't see the inside of the Colosseum, as I don't actually have any emotional attachment to that ancient building. Stoically I remained in my seat and accepted my fate. Bah.
On a brightnote, the people we met at our hostel were some of the funniest, nicest, and most interesting people we've ever come across. Its just so amazing how some european kids our age live. One was there in Barcelona just "living", no plan for the future and it was apparent that he wasn't all that upset about not knowing where his life was going.
Anyway, its go time for exams and presentations now. I've actually had to sit down and study every day this week! First one is this thursday, but hopefully it won't be too bad! Friday the 17th, is doomsday, two exams in four hours. Then the following tuesday I have a presentation in Spanish with my marketing group and then that Wednesday I'll be taking the Marketing final a month and a half before everyone else in my class does. AND THEN THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23rd, I WILL BE ON A PLANE HEADED HOME!
Porto and Lisbon were amazing and SO affordable. Other than the hostels where we stayed, we virtually spent NO money. Barcelona sort of made up for that, but really, Portugal is amazing, beautiful and cheap. Early morning the day we were in Porto, we went on a wine tour and tasting for 4 euros! Port wine is very very sweet and really made for desserts fruits and cheeses. It was totally worth it though, and we got to see the giant vats where they let the wine "mature". After wards we headed to this cute little restaurant right on the waterfront that serves Francesinha and its LITERALLY so so good that every time I remember it, I crave it. It's only made correctly in Porto, and incorrectly in a few other places of Portugal. Here is a picture that you can all drool over.
From Porto, we headed to Lisbon, which although they didn't have a food as amazing as the Francesinha, they did have cheap food and upon arrival at our hostel (which actually had the nicest staff in the world) we ran two doors down the street to the Tofa Restaurant where we proceeded to a plate of meat and fish respectivly, mine being accompanied by a piece of sausage, their version of french fries (flat and circular), what looked like pork (not a big pork eater so I skipped that part) pickled vegetables and an egg. We each had sangria as well as coffee, and the bill came to 13 euros!!!!!!!!!!!! We literally feasted for under 7 euros. That would never have happened in Spain, let me just tell you. The next morning we went and climbed up a giant ass hill to see the old Castle in Lisbon, and it has a really pretty view of the city. It would have been better, but it was really cloudy when we left that morning and at the Lisbon Airport, it had started to torrential downpour. Luckily we missed it all and managed to leave on time. Our friend Roofie and Di had actually come in that day, and taken a tour around the city. Evidently not too long ago, Portugal was hit with a massive earthquake and fire that burnt almost the entire city down. When they rebuilt, the King wasn't very creative and he wanted all the houses to be built the exact same to save on time. Here's what it looks like from the Castle.
And finally Barcelona!! We had such a wonderful time in Barcelona, other than that fact that everything was back to being expensive and we spent probably a full day waiting in various lines. Apparently we went at the wrong time to Sagrada Familia and stood in line for an hour and a half (again, sorry Tita) but it was worth it to see Gaudi's architecture at its finest. From the outside, the Sagrada Familia is really really ugly, and looks like a space ship dropped it off in the middle of Barcelona. Its all dark and black and kinda looks like something Ursula from The Little Mermaid would live in but when we finally got in, it was amazing. It was all white and for some reason really cold, but lit up so beautifully. The stained glass behind the altar was gorgeous but the most amazing thing was probably the ceiling. It was really intricately done and it seemed to go on forever.
And now I know everyone knows how much I've been obsessing over Puyol. To be fair, my uncle warned me he might not be playing...but December 7th, we ventured to Camp Nou to watch FC Barcelona play Rubin Kazan which is a Russian team from the city of Kazan from the Republic of Tartarstan (yea where?), but to my extreme disappointment, Puyol did not play. I got to stare at the giant that is Piqué for most of the time, and Messi was sent out in the second half...but no Carles Puyol. My disappointment surpassed the time I couldn't see the inside of the Colosseum, as I don't actually have any emotional attachment to that ancient building. Stoically I remained in my seat and accepted my fate. Bah.
On a brightnote, the people we met at our hostel were some of the funniest, nicest, and most interesting people we've ever come across. Its just so amazing how some european kids our age live. One was there in Barcelona just "living", no plan for the future and it was apparent that he wasn't all that upset about not knowing where his life was going.
Anyway, its go time for exams and presentations now. I've actually had to sit down and study every day this week! First one is this thursday, but hopefully it won't be too bad! Friday the 17th, is doomsday, two exams in four hours. Then the following tuesday I have a presentation in Spanish with my marketing group and then that Wednesday I'll be taking the Marketing final a month and a half before everyone else in my class does. AND THEN THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23rd, I WILL BE ON A PLANE HEADED HOME!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Rome Can't Be Built or Seen in One Day
I love Madrid, don't get me wrong. The people, the food. Wait strike that, don't love the food, but I love the history, I love how friendly everyone is, I love how people generally can understand me when I speak Spanish (*cough* Paris *cough*), I love how cheap transportation is, how mild the weather generally is...
But I am in love with Rome. I sort of feel like I'm cheating on Madrid, but only a short 32 hours in Rome was NOT enough for me. I can commit to saying that I would love to go back to Rome in an instant, to visit it with my family, to visit it with friends, go retire to Rome. And I would probably. The food was excellent, everything was walkable, the tiny little hostel we stayed at was adorable and the staff was super friendly (The Ciak Hostel, no where near anything but the Colosseum).
I went to Rome with Tita, of course. The first thing we did when we arrived was drop off our bags (at 11 pm at night) to the Hostel where Veronica and Nate had already PTFOd, and pretty much ran to the restaurant down the street that the front desk clerk at the Hostel had suggested, but warned that it would be closing at midnight. Three blocks and two minutes later, we had arrived at Mama Mia Pizzeria (yes, that is what it was called) and we had sat down to the delight of our waiter, who actually turned out to be the sweetest old egyptian man ever. We quickly decided what we wanted, as we were starving and true to our words, hadn't eaten anything all day in preparation of this meal. We split a Neapolitan calzone (cheeeese), I ordered ravioli and Tita ordered spaghetti with ragu. We split a tiramisu and since the Egyptian man loved us so much, he gave us free lemon gelato and some chocolate. We happily walked back to our hostel and passed out with our food babies / comas. Everyone snored happily that night.
We then woke up bright and early (well, 9 am) to a lovely breakfast provided by the hostel (3 day old croissants and toast-it-yourself bread) and proceeded to begin the sight-seeing marathon.
Now... for some reason my blog will not allow me to put any more pics up on this post, which is OK since by the time we go to the Colosseum, it was getting very dark (even though it was only 6 pm) and my camera doesn't really work well outdoors at night. This is where the most tragic thing happened to me...we found out that the Colosseum was closed at 3 pm. I'm sure we would have known, had we looked at our iPod World Travel Guide App before we began that morning.
3pm was when we were at the Spanish steps. I didn't feel too guilty, since we did in fact get to see the Colosseum, albeit from the outside. I think my feelings can be most easily described through an analogy to one of my favorite television shows. Do you remember in America's Next Top Model? When the girls go on Go-Sees and they make interviews around the city, but have to be back in time or else they are disqualified? And there is always one girl that is disqualified, even though she did an amazing job on her interviews? Yeah, I know how that girl feels. We sat outside, looking up at this massive building, knowing there were ancient ruins to be seen within, but due to the low lighting and no doubt the high chance of us falling and hurting ourselves or the ruins should we enter, we knew there was nothing more to be done. We had seen what we could.
Rome wasn't built in one day, and it would be an injustice to try and see it all in one.
We decided to go for a full Italian dinner and drown our sorrows in red wine, which was super cheap anddd tasty. Mmm Lasagna.
But I am in love with Rome. I sort of feel like I'm cheating on Madrid, but only a short 32 hours in Rome was NOT enough for me. I can commit to saying that I would love to go back to Rome in an instant, to visit it with my family, to visit it with friends, go retire to Rome. And I would probably. The food was excellent, everything was walkable, the tiny little hostel we stayed at was adorable and the staff was super friendly (The Ciak Hostel, no where near anything but the Colosseum).
I went to Rome with Tita, of course. The first thing we did when we arrived was drop off our bags (at 11 pm at night) to the Hostel where Veronica and Nate had already PTFOd, and pretty much ran to the restaurant down the street that the front desk clerk at the Hostel had suggested, but warned that it would be closing at midnight. Three blocks and two minutes later, we had arrived at Mama Mia Pizzeria (yes, that is what it was called) and we had sat down to the delight of our waiter, who actually turned out to be the sweetest old egyptian man ever. We quickly decided what we wanted, as we were starving and true to our words, hadn't eaten anything all day in preparation of this meal. We split a Neapolitan calzone (cheeeese), I ordered ravioli and Tita ordered spaghetti with ragu. We split a tiramisu and since the Egyptian man loved us so much, he gave us free lemon gelato and some chocolate. We happily walked back to our hostel and passed out with our food babies / comas. Everyone snored happily that night.
We then woke up bright and early (well, 9 am) to a lovely breakfast provided by the hostel (3 day old croissants and toast-it-yourself bread) and proceeded to begin the sight-seeing marathon.
We began at Vatican City, by taking the metro from our Hostel on the west side of the city all the way North East. Vatican was just as impressive as I thought it would be, even if Tita needed some arm twisting to get there.
We went in and visited the Vatican museum and got to see the Sistine Chapel, both were filled with some really interesting objects and painted super elaborately.
But since we only had one day to see everything we could, we had to keep moving. From The Holy See, we walked to Castel Sant' Angelo, which was built as a mausoleum for Roman Emperor Hadrian, but later used as a fortress, a castle, a prison and today a museum!
From there, we walked to the above, Piazza Navona. Famous for being the place of the ancient roman "games" and competitions, and then later open markets. It also has fountains by Bernini in the center. There were food and toy vendors all over the place and at the north end, were artists selling their paintings.
This would be the ceiling of the Pantheon. When it rains, it pours through the roof but drains into the floor and they rope off the area so no one gets wet. The hole is there because back then, they didn't know if the building would be able to support the roof so in order to make it lighter, they cut this big hole. The pantheon was originally built as a "temple to all the roman gods" but is now a Roman Catholic Church known as "Santa Maria Rotunda".
We made it to the Trevi fountain, and it was PACKED with people, all throwing coins and taking pictures. The Piazza it is in isn't big at all, in fact the Trevi Fountain seems to take it all up. We managed to squeeze to the front and take some pictures but it was, of course, beautiful!
We hiked up to the Spanish Steps, although we are still unclear as to why they are called the Spanish steps, other than the fact that the Spanish embassy to Rome is just down the street. Tons of people just chilling out here too, but you are NOT allowed to eat here ( I read that later on wikipedia ). The Church at the top is also really beautiful, but the sight from the top is even better. As there aren't any huge buildings or towers in Rome, you have to climb to the top of hills to get a view of the city.
In between the Spanish Steps and the Colosseum, we saw the Neptune Fountain, the Roman Republic and Palazzo delle Esposizioni, which was actually hosting a exposition on Teotihuacan, Mexico, and the Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II.Now... for some reason my blog will not allow me to put any more pics up on this post, which is OK since by the time we go to the Colosseum, it was getting very dark (even though it was only 6 pm) and my camera doesn't really work well outdoors at night. This is where the most tragic thing happened to me...we found out that the Colosseum was closed at 3 pm. I'm sure we would have known, had we looked at our iPod World Travel Guide App before we began that morning.
3pm was when we were at the Spanish steps. I didn't feel too guilty, since we did in fact get to see the Colosseum, albeit from the outside. I think my feelings can be most easily described through an analogy to one of my favorite television shows. Do you remember in America's Next Top Model? When the girls go on Go-Sees and they make interviews around the city, but have to be back in time or else they are disqualified? And there is always one girl that is disqualified, even though she did an amazing job on her interviews? Yeah, I know how that girl feels. We sat outside, looking up at this massive building, knowing there were ancient ruins to be seen within, but due to the low lighting and no doubt the high chance of us falling and hurting ourselves or the ruins should we enter, we knew there was nothing more to be done. We had seen what we could.
Rome wasn't built in one day, and it would be an injustice to try and see it all in one.
We decided to go for a full Italian dinner and drown our sorrows in red wine, which was super cheap anddd tasty. Mmm Lasagna.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Its Only Ten AM and I've Already Had an Ephiphany
I've been thinking a lot about my time here in Spain. I've seen loads of sights in Madrid and have, I assume, done all the touristy things there are to do here. Between my two classes where I don't know any AU kids, I regularly converse in Spanish with a couple of girls I have gotten to know this past semester and in my Sistemas de Informacion de Marketing class, my group has recently completed a very impressive Market Research Survey and handed it in (although to be honest, my participation was generally research and idea based, evidently my written Spanish isn't a strong as I thought it was).
So what has me worried is that I only have about a month left, two weekends in which I won't even be in Madrid. This coming weekend I'll be visiting BK in Rome with my good friend Tita. I've been excited about this trip since I booked it back in September and I can't wait to just...EAT. DD had come and visited me in Madrid and one of the main topics we discussed was how good the food was in Italy. In fact, thinking about going to Italy and eating just made me facebook stalk a couple friends' pictures, since they recently returned from Rome. I never had any doubt, but just so everyone knows, Spanish food isn't all that good. Sure there's paella (although I still like my dad's paella way more) croquettas (good but heavy on carbs) and jamón in general, but I think some of my favorite meals here have been when it WASN'T Spanish cooking, but rather some other ethnic influence. Let's be serious, gazpacho is pretty gross.
I knew I always wanted to stay a year here in Spain, but this has me considering it even more since it seems the semester has gone by so fast. I can't, of course, since I would never graduate early from AU like I've planned on doing since I was a senior in high school. I might not even graduate on time if I stayed, due to the fact that I'm not allowed to take Accounting or Finance classes here in Spain and all the classes I currently take only have a 50% chance of ACTUALLY transferring back to AU. Third reason being that although Universidad Pontificia Comillas tuition is really only about 5000 euros or so, I am still paying full AU tuition, the additional money AU is of course, pocketing and building another useless piece of architecture that will no doubt fall down during the next snow storm. No wonder they encourage students to go abroad.
I was talking with Águeda (yep, crazy name) and she was telling me that grad school is so ridiculously cheap here in Madrid, compared to the United States, where all education is expensive, AU significantly so. So cheap, in fact, that a year might cost about 5000 euros, which is about $7,000. And that's at Universidad Pontificia Comillas, which is one of the top schools in Madrid.
So what has me worried is that I only have about a month left, two weekends in which I won't even be in Madrid. This coming weekend I'll be visiting BK in Rome with my good friend Tita. I've been excited about this trip since I booked it back in September and I can't wait to just...EAT. DD had come and visited me in Madrid and one of the main topics we discussed was how good the food was in Italy. In fact, thinking about going to Italy and eating just made me facebook stalk a couple friends' pictures, since they recently returned from Rome. I never had any doubt, but just so everyone knows, Spanish food isn't all that good. Sure there's paella (although I still like my dad's paella way more) croquettas (good but heavy on carbs) and jamón in general, but I think some of my favorite meals here have been when it WASN'T Spanish cooking, but rather some other ethnic influence. Let's be serious, gazpacho is pretty gross.
I knew I always wanted to stay a year here in Spain, but this has me considering it even more since it seems the semester has gone by so fast. I can't, of course, since I would never graduate early from AU like I've planned on doing since I was a senior in high school. I might not even graduate on time if I stayed, due to the fact that I'm not allowed to take Accounting or Finance classes here in Spain and all the classes I currently take only have a 50% chance of ACTUALLY transferring back to AU. Third reason being that although Universidad Pontificia Comillas tuition is really only about 5000 euros or so, I am still paying full AU tuition, the additional money AU is of course, pocketing and building another useless piece of architecture that will no doubt fall down during the next snow storm. No wonder they encourage students to go abroad.
I was talking with Águeda (yep, crazy name) and she was telling me that grad school is so ridiculously cheap here in Madrid, compared to the United States, where all education is expensive, AU significantly so. So cheap, in fact, that a year might cost about 5000 euros, which is about $7,000. And that's at Universidad Pontificia Comillas, which is one of the top schools in Madrid.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Magerit - Matrice - Madrid
No, this is not a cheesy album title but rather what I encountered today. Surprisingly but willingly, I woke up this beautiful but chilly Sunday morning at 8am to meet Ruthie at Plaza Mayor to go on a walking tour of old Madrid. For three euros, we followed the very quick "Fred" throughout the streets that me and mis amigos have been known to wander / get lost, and pass the very buildings that hold hundreds of years of history. My bad.
On this tour, I learned more about Spanish history than in my actual Spanish (Contemporary) History class. The development of the name "Madrid", the walls that once stood that are now indicated by different colored stones of the street, some ancient ruins that I always assumed were actually metro stations (awkward), and the creation of my favorite cathedral, Catedral de Almudena.
I went last week to mass at this Cathedral (yessss everyone can be shocked), and this week after our tour with Fred (yesss be even more shocked), and although it starts off super warm in the cathedral, it gradually descends to freezing, but the mass is pretty and the inside of the Cathedral is gorgeous. It's a really contemporary cathedral, with cubist stained glass and the most colorful decor I've encountered of Spanish Cathedrals. Granted it was finished about ten years ago, so that may be why, but its still my fav and recommend everyone to go, as the lack of post-life Jesus paintings are at a minimum.
On this tour, I learned more about Spanish history than in my actual Spanish (Contemporary) History class. The development of the name "Madrid", the walls that once stood that are now indicated by different colored stones of the street, some ancient ruins that I always assumed were actually metro stations (awkward), and the creation of my favorite cathedral, Catedral de Almudena.
I went last week to mass at this Cathedral (yessss everyone can be shocked), and this week after our tour with Fred (yesss be even more shocked), and although it starts off super warm in the cathedral, it gradually descends to freezing, but the mass is pretty and the inside of the Cathedral is gorgeous. It's a really contemporary cathedral, with cubist stained glass and the most colorful decor I've encountered of Spanish Cathedrals. Granted it was finished about ten years ago, so that may be why, but its still my fav and recommend everyone to go, as the lack of post-life Jesus paintings are at a minimum.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Story From My Day
So I was walking to school this morning. I head up my street, turn right and turn left to get to my bus stop. As I'm walking up my street, I see the bus coming down the street, and a girl, full out RUNNING, to get to where the bus stops in time, before the bus passes and she misses it. I can already tell she's going to miss it since the bus is almost near me and she's still up at the corner.
Out of NOWHERE, this little old lady with her cane basically darts into the street and stops the bus by holding her CANE and her BODY in front of it! The bus driver stops (he wasn't ABOUT to hit her, but had he not stopped when he did, he probably would have) and starts angrily shouting at the old lady. The old lady sweetly responds that "There's a young girl trying to get on your bus."
Two seconds later, the girl gets to the bus, climbs on, and the old lady continues on her way. But before she does, she winks at me. I did not make this story up.
Out of NOWHERE, this little old lady with her cane basically darts into the street and stops the bus by holding her CANE and her BODY in front of it! The bus driver stops (he wasn't ABOUT to hit her, but had he not stopped when he did, he probably would have) and starts angrily shouting at the old lady. The old lady sweetly responds that "There's a young girl trying to get on your bus."
Two seconds later, the girl gets to the bus, climbs on, and the old lady continues on her way. But before she does, she winks at me. I did not make this story up.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
UK (Can't put London because I was barely in London)
I put this as a different blog post, because although I left for London the day after I got back from Paris, it was an entirely different trip and much easier and shorter to write them separately. I went to visit one of my sorority sisters who is studying at in London for the semester. I got there super late on Tuesday night, because when I'd booked my flight, I was under the impression that I had class early in the morning on Tuesday, which wasn't the case because Spain decided to have another national holiday. Either way, I flew in Stansted at about 6 pm, even though Ryan Air had decided to switch gates 4 times and delay the flight by an hour or so. From Stansted, I took a shuttle service called "EasyBus" which offers REALLY cheap rides into London from the airport that is virtually in the middle of no where and would've cost me about 100 pounds to get into the city.
After catching up with Emily, we went to bed, Emily in her bed, and me in my makeshift bed, which was basically couch cushions on the floor, but surprisingly very comfortable and warm. Probably even better than Emily's bed. We got up super early and headed towards where we thought our tour bus would pick us up. I got to see King's Cross Station (although not platform 9 3/4 because we were in a rush and passing it). Unfortunately the bus was late picking us up and after we called several times, the woman told us to take a taxi to Queen Victoria bus station where they would reimburse us. It was really nice actually, because we got into a taxi with the NICEST cab driver I have ever met. Not only did he have the most adorable English accent ever, he pointed out all the cool things we passed and when we drove past Buckingham Palace, he let us in on the fact that you know the Queen is in there when her family's coat of arms flag is raised, which it was!
Our first stop on our tour was Windsor, which is where Windsor Castle is and its owned by the Windsor family, not the actual crown. It was soooo cute in that little town, and also where I fell in LOVE with tea. I'm not sure what it is but before this, I hated tea and its probably because I was only forced to drink it when sick and my mom doesn't have a very good tea selection. Anyway, since Windsor Castle cost about 20 pounds to go in (almost 30 dollars!!!) we decided to skip it and walk around the outside of the Castle as well as go look around the little town. While everyone else on our tour was listening to their audio guide, we were eating tea and scones at this place called the Drury House, where King Charles the II used to rendezvous with his mistress. This sweet little old British man was running the place and the tea was so so so good. I had three entire cups and two scones and it was luckily warm because he gave us the nice table near the fireplace. Here I am looking ridiculously pleased with where I am.
From Windsor, we visited Stonehenge. We were given this audio guide for Stonehenge but it was literally the most useless thing I've ever listened to because every ten seconds it would say "Now look at the left stone facing north!" and I'd be like..."where on EARTH is north?!". It was also noon and I couldn't even use the sun to direct me in the right direction (because I'm crafty and of Mayan/Incan descent, I know how to use the solar directions, woop) but either way it was really cool to see. There were also just a TON of sheep hanging around outside of Stonehenge. However, they realize what an electric fence is and knew to not come over even when I called for them.
In Oxford, we got a walking tour by our burly tour guide, and saw a lot of the colleges around Oxford, although I have to say, the most interesting part about the tour was when he showed us the inspiration for Harry Potter's scar. Evidently, one day, JK Rowling was walking around Oxford and noticed on the ground of where all the University students graduate, was the architects' symbol, a lightning bolt like shape. For dramatic effect, our tour guide had been standing on it, and when he said this, he leapt off of it and everyone went "oooooooo!!!" and rushed forward to take pictures. It was realllll cool.
After our tour finished, we had some time to look around Oxford, although honestly, there isn't much to do except study. Luckily we found this really cool bar called the Eagle and the Child where Tolkien and C.S. Lewis used to hang out, drink and write. Emily and I really only drank and took pictures while a man sat across from us reading and writing for us. It was so interesting to think that we were in the same place they used to work and to imagine them as college students like ourselves. From the bar, we quickly ran to grab our bus, because our guide had told us at the beginning that if you weren't back at the correct time, they would leave without you! WHICH HAPPENED! Not to us though...there were these three Asian girls that were on the tour and at 6:45 when we were supposed to meet, only one of them was there. We waited an extra ten minutes but we LEFT them behind when they didn't show up. The Brits don't kid around.
We headed back to London and after cleaning up after our very long day, we headed out to the Golden Hind, which is a really famous place in London to get fish and chips. I haven't had fried fish like that in SO long but I can honestly say they were better than Buffalo fish fries and I LOVE buffalo fish fries. Mmm... I would have gotten a pic of me eating fish and chips but I was so hungry / distracted by my friend Luke's HILARIOUS story of how he was refused entry into Belgium and forced to go to London in the mean time due to an expired visa. I failed to even take my camera out of my bag. Instead we headed to a local bar with Emily and I had Pear Cider which was delicious and way better than beer.
After catching up with Emily, we went to bed, Emily in her bed, and me in my makeshift bed, which was basically couch cushions on the floor, but surprisingly very comfortable and warm. Probably even better than Emily's bed. We got up super early and headed towards where we thought our tour bus would pick us up. I got to see King's Cross Station (although not platform 9 3/4 because we were in a rush and passing it). Unfortunately the bus was late picking us up and after we called several times, the woman told us to take a taxi to Queen Victoria bus station where they would reimburse us. It was really nice actually, because we got into a taxi with the NICEST cab driver I have ever met. Not only did he have the most adorable English accent ever, he pointed out all the cool things we passed and when we drove past Buckingham Palace, he let us in on the fact that you know the Queen is in there when her family's coat of arms flag is raised, which it was!
Our first stop on our tour was Windsor, which is where Windsor Castle is and its owned by the Windsor family, not the actual crown. It was soooo cute in that little town, and also where I fell in LOVE with tea. I'm not sure what it is but before this, I hated tea and its probably because I was only forced to drink it when sick and my mom doesn't have a very good tea selection. Anyway, since Windsor Castle cost about 20 pounds to go in (almost 30 dollars!!!) we decided to skip it and walk around the outside of the Castle as well as go look around the little town. While everyone else on our tour was listening to their audio guide, we were eating tea and scones at this place called the Drury House, where King Charles the II used to rendezvous with his mistress. This sweet little old British man was running the place and the tea was so so so good. I had three entire cups and two scones and it was luckily warm because he gave us the nice table near the fireplace. Here I am looking ridiculously pleased with where I am.
From Windsor, we visited Stonehenge. We were given this audio guide for Stonehenge but it was literally the most useless thing I've ever listened to because every ten seconds it would say "Now look at the left stone facing north!" and I'd be like..."where on EARTH is north?!". It was also noon and I couldn't even use the sun to direct me in the right direction (because I'm crafty and of Mayan/Incan descent, I know how to use the solar directions, woop) but either way it was really cool to see. There were also just a TON of sheep hanging around outside of Stonehenge. However, they realize what an electric fence is and knew to not come over even when I called for them.
In Oxford, we got a walking tour by our burly tour guide, and saw a lot of the colleges around Oxford, although I have to say, the most interesting part about the tour was when he showed us the inspiration for Harry Potter's scar. Evidently, one day, JK Rowling was walking around Oxford and noticed on the ground of where all the University students graduate, was the architects' symbol, a lightning bolt like shape. For dramatic effect, our tour guide had been standing on it, and when he said this, he leapt off of it and everyone went "oooooooo!!!" and rushed forward to take pictures. It was realllll cool.
After our tour finished, we had some time to look around Oxford, although honestly, there isn't much to do except study. Luckily we found this really cool bar called the Eagle and the Child where Tolkien and C.S. Lewis used to hang out, drink and write. Emily and I really only drank and took pictures while a man sat across from us reading and writing for us. It was so interesting to think that we were in the same place they used to work and to imagine them as college students like ourselves. From the bar, we quickly ran to grab our bus, because our guide had told us at the beginning that if you weren't back at the correct time, they would leave without you! WHICH HAPPENED! Not to us though...there were these three Asian girls that were on the tour and at 6:45 when we were supposed to meet, only one of them was there. We waited an extra ten minutes but we LEFT them behind when they didn't show up. The Brits don't kid around.
We headed back to London and after cleaning up after our very long day, we headed out to the Golden Hind, which is a really famous place in London to get fish and chips. I haven't had fried fish like that in SO long but I can honestly say they were better than Buffalo fish fries and I LOVE buffalo fish fries. Mmm... I would have gotten a pic of me eating fish and chips but I was so hungry / distracted by my friend Luke's HILARIOUS story of how he was refused entry into Belgium and forced to go to London in the mean time due to an expired visa. I failed to even take my camera out of my bag. Instead we headed to a local bar with Emily and I had Pear Cider which was delicious and way better than beer.
Pluvieux (Rainy) Paris
I was lucky enough to be able to go to both Paris and London this past week. Paris was rainy and cold but me, BK, and DD proceeded to hit up all the neat touristy things you can do there. We were ALSO lucky enough that the Louvre is free every first Sunday of the month, and we just HAPPENED to be there for that. It did mean waking up early and getting in line, but luckily it wasn't raining while we were waiting outside, unlike for those unlucky hundreds that showed up after 9 am. We saw all the really impressive paintings, although the Mona Lisa was a little underwhelming. (Although there were at least a hundred people the second time we passed her, the first time, we managed to wiggle our way to the front fairly easily)
What was overwhelming, was the Louvre itself. I know they say its impossible to see everything in there in one day, but we did try. We were there a total of four hours, and equipped with the free map they provided us, which highlighted all the really famous paintings and sculptures. We got to see the Code of Hammurabi, that I learned about in 6th grade, the Colossal Statue of Ramesses II, the Venus de Milo, Pysche and Cupid by Canova (although I didn't realize what it was until after we'd left the room and they vehemently refused to let me go back and take another look) and basically a tons more. We must have passed "The Winged Victory" about a million times in order to pass between rooms. Eventually we dreaded the sight of her headless self.
Attached to the northern portion of the Louvre, is the Napoleon apartments, where Napoleon III (not the original Napoleon) literally just moved in and made the Louvre part of the palace. My favorite story of Napoleon Bonaparte goes along with the painting "the Consecration of Emperor Napoleon I". See, the story has it that the Pope had come to Paris to crown Napoleon, but at the last minute, Napoleon goes "The only man on earth fit to crown me Emperor (Note: Not even King, he demanded to be Emperor), is myself" and he grabs the crown from the Pope and places it on his own head. Sassy and ballsy Napoleon.
Paris itself was wonderful. I fell in love with beignets, which is basically the best version of a chocolate filled doughnut you could ever hope to have. BK and I, on our first night in Paris, were wandering around the Red District near Moulin Rouge when we came across this little pastry shop, where of course, she bought a Baguette and I my Beignet. I didn't eat it until the following morning, as we shared the Baguette, but the second I ate it, I knew food would never be the same for me. That good. I'm trying to imagine how could it would have been had I eaten it fresh.
And of course we saw the Eiffel Tower almost every single day. We've seen it at night, during the day, in the rain, from afar, from up close, but never actually from the top of it...Like the Winged Victory, by the end of our trip I actually was getting sick of seeing its odd colored structure from every part of the city. Although it is really cool that you can see it from almost anywhere. If we leaned out our room's window at the Hostel, we could see it in the distance. I'm going to be annoyingly proud of this picture below.
BK and DD left early Monday morning, but mine and Tita's flight wasn't until 3:00 from Paris-Beauvais. Since I wasn't actually any where near Tita, and we'd planned to meet at the bus station to get to Paris-Beauvais, I set out early from the hostel in search of a place to buy stamps and about five beignets to hold me over until I got back to the churros of Madrid.
Now here's where I will remind everyone that I do not speak a word of French. Nothing. Other than what I previously mentioned, and since I was incapable (no matter how much I repeated BK with her pronunciation) of saying water, I really had nothing to go on, except my exceptional miming skills and the simple term "Je vousdrais" (again, "I would like"). I managed to find a post office, because luckily it is called a "Poste" something and it had a letter on it. I wandered it, holding my three postcards I wanted to send to my family and stood patiently in line. Finally I reached the postal clerk and indicated with my phrase and the space where you are to apply stamps to my postcard that I would like stamps, and although he spoke in French, I actually understood the term "Would you like me to accompany you to the machine and show you how?" where I promptly responded with Oui! Now if my family doesn't get my postcards, its because it was my fault and I put them in the mailbox outside the post office, where I was told to. One, the one I didn't put them in, I thought said something like...within France, and the other was International.
Let me know if you get them!
GG
p.s. oh and I found beignets afterward. Must learn how to make them.
What was overwhelming, was the Louvre itself. I know they say its impossible to see everything in there in one day, but we did try. We were there a total of four hours, and equipped with the free map they provided us, which highlighted all the really famous paintings and sculptures. We got to see the Code of Hammurabi, that I learned about in 6th grade, the Colossal Statue of Ramesses II, the Venus de Milo, Pysche and Cupid by Canova (although I didn't realize what it was until after we'd left the room and they vehemently refused to let me go back and take another look) and basically a tons more. We must have passed "The Winged Victory" about a million times in order to pass between rooms. Eventually we dreaded the sight of her headless self.
Attached to the northern portion of the Louvre, is the Napoleon apartments, where Napoleon III (not the original Napoleon) literally just moved in and made the Louvre part of the palace. My favorite story of Napoleon Bonaparte goes along with the painting "the Consecration of Emperor Napoleon I". See, the story has it that the Pope had come to Paris to crown Napoleon, but at the last minute, Napoleon goes "The only man on earth fit to crown me Emperor (Note: Not even King, he demanded to be Emperor), is myself" and he grabs the crown from the Pope and places it on his own head. Sassy and ballsy Napoleon.
Paris itself was wonderful. I fell in love with beignets, which is basically the best version of a chocolate filled doughnut you could ever hope to have. BK and I, on our first night in Paris, were wandering around the Red District near Moulin Rouge when we came across this little pastry shop, where of course, she bought a Baguette and I my Beignet. I didn't eat it until the following morning, as we shared the Baguette, but the second I ate it, I knew food would never be the same for me. That good. I'm trying to imagine how could it would have been had I eaten it fresh.
And of course we saw the Eiffel Tower almost every single day. We've seen it at night, during the day, in the rain, from afar, from up close, but never actually from the top of it...Like the Winged Victory, by the end of our trip I actually was getting sick of seeing its odd colored structure from every part of the city. Although it is really cool that you can see it from almost anywhere. If we leaned out our room's window at the Hostel, we could see it in the distance. I'm going to be annoyingly proud of this picture below.
BK and DD left early Monday morning, but mine and Tita's flight wasn't until 3:00 from Paris-Beauvais. Since I wasn't actually any where near Tita, and we'd planned to meet at the bus station to get to Paris-Beauvais, I set out early from the hostel in search of a place to buy stamps and about five beignets to hold me over until I got back to the churros of Madrid.
Now here's where I will remind everyone that I do not speak a word of French. Nothing. Other than what I previously mentioned, and since I was incapable (no matter how much I repeated BK with her pronunciation) of saying water, I really had nothing to go on, except my exceptional miming skills and the simple term "Je vousdrais" (again, "I would like"). I managed to find a post office, because luckily it is called a "Poste" something and it had a letter on it. I wandered it, holding my three postcards I wanted to send to my family and stood patiently in line. Finally I reached the postal clerk and indicated with my phrase and the space where you are to apply stamps to my postcard that I would like stamps, and although he spoke in French, I actually understood the term "Would you like me to accompany you to the machine and show you how?" where I promptly responded with Oui! Now if my family doesn't get my postcards, its because it was my fault and I put them in the mailbox outside the post office, where I was told to. One, the one I didn't put them in, I thought said something like...within France, and the other was International.
Let me know if you get them!
GG
p.s. oh and I found beignets afterward. Must learn how to make them.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Heading to Paris
So from the 5th through the 8th I will be in Paris, accompanied on another scary RyanAir flight by my good friend Tita, only to meet up with one of my sorority sisters, BK, as we will call her from now on. For the past two hours I've been looking up directions to and around Paris from the airport we are flying in from (Paris-Beauvais). The metro map is a little intimidating, especially coming from the five lines of DC and the fact that I generally avoid the Madrid metro (I get lost. Anyone will tell you.) Plus I'm more of a "I enjoy taking the bus and being able to see the air, not hobos" type of girl.
I then return on the 8th and leave for London to visit EE, another sorority sister, in London. Not as intimidated by the London trip as I can speak the language. For now my french phrases are...
Je sais - "I know" (Although I doubt I'll use this much)
Oui - "Yes"
Non - "No."
S'il vous plait / Merci - "Please/ Thank you" (Thank you Madeline Adventures)
Par les vous Anglais/Espagnole - "Do you speak English/Spanish?"
Je voudrais - "I would like...." (I intend to point to whatever and get what I get.)
Biere - Beer!
Luckily, in the age of technology, I previously downloaded an APP for my iPod touch entitled "Travel Guide" that also has some helpful french phrases as well as maps and reviews. I'll try to be as low-key American as possible other than that.
So when I'm back in a week, I'll update you on everything. In the meantime, here's another wonderful pic of Puyol. I hear my mom's co-workers are big fans. hahahaha ;)
I then return on the 8th and leave for London to visit EE, another sorority sister, in London. Not as intimidated by the London trip as I can speak the language. For now my french phrases are...
Je sais - "I know" (Although I doubt I'll use this much)
Oui - "Yes"
Non - "No."
S'il vous plait / Merci - "Please/ Thank you" (Thank you Madeline Adventures)
Par les vous Anglais/Espagnole - "Do you speak English/Spanish?"
Je voudrais - "I would like...." (I intend to point to whatever and get what I get.)
Biere - Beer!
Luckily, in the age of technology, I previously downloaded an APP for my iPod touch entitled "Travel Guide" that also has some helpful french phrases as well as maps and reviews. I'll try to be as low-key American as possible other than that.
So when I'm back in a week, I'll update you on everything. In the meantime, here's another wonderful pic of Puyol. I hear my mom's co-workers are big fans. hahahaha ;)
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Halloween in Madrid
So I'll bless you all with a short post. I was a guido (sort of) and a cowboy (sort of). The biggest difference between Spain Halloween and USA is...
1. No one carves pumpkins here. But we did anyway.
2. People actually dress up in scary costumes. On the way out, everyone was dressed as a zombie or a murder victim. There was less skanky outfits then in the states, for sure.
3. The day after Halloween, November 1st, is All Saints Day, and everyone has off to commemorate the deceased. Similar to Dia de Los Muertos in Latin America.
1. No one carves pumpkins here. But we did anyway.
3. The day after Halloween, November 1st, is All Saints Day, and everyone has off to commemorate the deceased. Similar to Dia de Los Muertos in Latin America.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Refused Entrance to the Alhambra = Fail
With jealousy and because our program at ICADE doesn't pay for us all to travel around Spain and Europe in general (I am not bitter), we decided to venture down to the south of Spain this weekend. To keep costs low we came up with the brilliant plan of leaving Madrid at 1 am Saturday morning (technically?) and arriving in Granada at 6 am. The trip was reminiscent of those times when my mom dragged us all by bus from Mexico City to Sacatecas, only there was no one star hotel to welcome us in Granada for a few blessed hours of sleep. Only 3 degree Celsius weather and the realization that the sun wouldn't rise for another two hours...like the rest of the city.
I don't remember much about the bus ride there, only that since Di and I had spent 5 euros extra, we got a bigger and pretty much empty bus to stretch out on, plenty of leg room and a complimentary water bottle. Also a coupon for a free copa (alcoholic drink) but we may have slept through that rest stop. We climbed through the Spanish Sierra Nevadas with what Di tells me was at a frightening pace, although I had fallen asleep using the seatbelt lock at my pillow with Michael Jackson blaring into my ears, so I would have been oblivious if we had crashed into the Mediterranean Sea.
Getting into Granada was interesting, to say the least. We arrived in a seedy little bus stop, with no sun or moon to light our way. Di and I arrived about 20 minutes earlier than R and Tita and quickly located the bathrooms. Bathrooms didn't have toilet paper, much less a clean seat and I'm sure that's all the imagery you need, but I thank my over-planning mother who made me pack "Charmin Emergency Toilet Seat Covers" and Aurelia, who insisted I take 3 packs of tissues. Thank you, both of you.
For once, Tita and I had our giant "Spain" tour books and we sat in the middle of the bus stop looking super touristy as we read aloud a "walking tour" as suggested by Lonely Planet. At 6:45 am, the barista at the bus stop cafe was super helpful and told us which city bus to grab to get into the center of the town.
And thats when we gave up any hope of pretending to be Spanish and started with our "Gringo Spanish". Gringo spanish, for all of you that don't know, is when you speak spanish in the worst american accent possible. Personally, I can fake a hybrid spanish/english accent so that I'm not speaking like a complete gringa, but all the native speakers know I'm not truly one of them.
Now, the Alhambra is probably the most famous Islamic architecture buildings in Europe, and what we DID NOT realize is that you need to buy tickets to enter the fortress prior to actually hiking up the giant mountain that it sits on top of. I don't even think Disney World sells out like this place does. Luckily we bought garden tickets that were cheaper and let us see almost everything except the inside of the Palace (and the cool lion statues...) There are just tons of flowers and fountains and really neat architecture all around the place.
From the Alhambra, we took a short bus back down into the city, me sitting on R's lap, Tita on Di's and surrounded by an odd and smelly assortment of tourists and natives. *Please note: That in Granada, no matter how old the guy / how young the woman, the man always leaps up and demands the woman sits. I'm not a feminist at all but I think this is really sweet. Especially when they're really old and you'd rather they just sit anyway.
We also made our pilgrimage to the tombs of Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand (and their assorted children). Like most really old places in Europe, we were unable to take a picture of anything past the front doors of the cathedral, but the cathedral itself was quite epic and knowing that the catholic kings were dead and 10 feet in front of us was only a little unsettling.
Finally it was time to go, after a meal of pizza and some browsing at the local stores (Pull and Bear? And some random gift shops) We all headed on another very filled bus towards the bus station and although I still stand by the fact the bus would have gone closer to the station, we got off and ambled for about five minutes over a construction zone where I was forced to walk across a makeshift bridge. Scaryyy.
At 6 pm we departed Granada, tired but full of culture, pizza, and possibly covered in pollen, since there were so many flowers at La Alhambra.
I don't remember much about the bus ride there, only that since Di and I had spent 5 euros extra, we got a bigger and pretty much empty bus to stretch out on, plenty of leg room and a complimentary water bottle. Also a coupon for a free copa (alcoholic drink) but we may have slept through that rest stop. We climbed through the Spanish Sierra Nevadas with what Di tells me was at a frightening pace, although I had fallen asleep using the seatbelt lock at my pillow with Michael Jackson blaring into my ears, so I would have been oblivious if we had crashed into the Mediterranean Sea.
Getting into Granada was interesting, to say the least. We arrived in a seedy little bus stop, with no sun or moon to light our way. Di and I arrived about 20 minutes earlier than R and Tita and quickly located the bathrooms. Bathrooms didn't have toilet paper, much less a clean seat and I'm sure that's all the imagery you need, but I thank my over-planning mother who made me pack "Charmin Emergency Toilet Seat Covers" and Aurelia, who insisted I take 3 packs of tissues. Thank you, both of you.
For once, Tita and I had our giant "Spain" tour books and we sat in the middle of the bus stop looking super touristy as we read aloud a "walking tour" as suggested by Lonely Planet. At 6:45 am, the barista at the bus stop cafe was super helpful and told us which city bus to grab to get into the center of the town.
And thats when we gave up any hope of pretending to be Spanish and started with our "Gringo Spanish". Gringo spanish, for all of you that don't know, is when you speak spanish in the worst american accent possible. Personally, I can fake a hybrid spanish/english accent so that I'm not speaking like a complete gringa, but all the native speakers know I'm not truly one of them.
Now, the Alhambra is probably the most famous Islamic architecture buildings in Europe, and what we DID NOT realize is that you need to buy tickets to enter the fortress prior to actually hiking up the giant mountain that it sits on top of. I don't even think Disney World sells out like this place does. Luckily we bought garden tickets that were cheaper and let us see almost everything except the inside of the Palace (and the cool lion statues...) There are just tons of flowers and fountains and really neat architecture all around the place.
From the Alhambra, we took a short bus back down into the city, me sitting on R's lap, Tita on Di's and surrounded by an odd and smelly assortment of tourists and natives. *Please note: That in Granada, no matter how old the guy / how young the woman, the man always leaps up and demands the woman sits. I'm not a feminist at all but I think this is really sweet. Especially when they're really old and you'd rather they just sit anyway.
We also made our pilgrimage to the tombs of Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand (and their assorted children). Like most really old places in Europe, we were unable to take a picture of anything past the front doors of the cathedral, but the cathedral itself was quite epic and knowing that the catholic kings were dead and 10 feet in front of us was only a little unsettling.
Finally it was time to go, after a meal of pizza and some browsing at the local stores (Pull and Bear? And some random gift shops) We all headed on another very filled bus towards the bus station and although I still stand by the fact the bus would have gone closer to the station, we got off and ambled for about five minutes over a construction zone where I was forced to walk across a makeshift bridge. Scaryyy.
At 6 pm we departed Granada, tired but full of culture, pizza, and possibly covered in pollen, since there were so many flowers at La Alhambra.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Family Crests
I found these in a gift shop with Danielle and thought they were really cool. Here's a couple of my family's last names. After calling my dad and finding out about 4 more last names, I've realized its probably not a good idea to buy the closest 7 but this is what I've got.
Molina - My Dad's side
Benitez - Mom's Maiden name
Quintana - Great Grandmother's Maiden name
I didn't see the in between names like Enriquez or Andrade at the shop.
Molina - My Dad's side
Benitez - Mom's Maiden name
Quintana - Great Grandmother's Maiden name
I didn't see the in between names like Enriquez or Andrade at the shop.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
My Señora
I feel this blog post is long over due. I have mentioned Aurelia in passing but she is such an integral part of my life abroad that she definitely deserves a highlight all to herself. She's, in the nicest way possible, a funny but original use of the term biddy. Old, mad bad and biddy.
Like a couple of my relatives in Mexico, she has tattooed eyebrows, eyeliner, and lip liner, which is always surprising in the morning when she pops out of the bathroom, hair in a disarray but makeup pretty well kept. Of course nothing beats my raccoon eyes in the morning, but this isn't a competition. I wish I could post a picture of her so that you could just get a visual of this blessed woman, but anytime I suggest we take a picture to send to my family she goes "Ay dios mío, ¡mira como estoy vestida!" (translation: oh my god, look how im dressed!) and then she quickly flees to her room where a few minutes later I can already smell the cigarette she just lit up. To calm herself down of course, from the frenzy I caused by my question
(Update from the time I started writing this blog entry and got distracted: Aurelia is always very curious about Skype. She doesn't own a computer, as the radio is her thang, so whenever she sees me talking to myself, she wanders over to check if I've lost my mind or not. Without fail she'll always see SOMEONE I'm skyping with, although so far the count is I think two...maybe three different people. Although I have yet to get a picture of her, she has been caught on camera. She met my little about an hour ago and she kept saying "Quien es esta bonita? Quien es la guapa?" Which was cute, and of course my little IS adorable, so true. Hilarious my little's name translates as "Gay" in spanish and when Aurelia heard that she got a little flustered and was scared away from the camera once she realized that the camera worked both ways. Too too funny.)
I remember filling out my AU abroad questionnaire on my ideal housing situation and when asked whether or not I cared if my hosts smoked. Of course I don't. Some of my fondest memories in Mexico are from family members lovingly offering me a cigarette at 8 years old. Or driving, smoking, and yelling at their kids (yes, at the same time). Or my aunt telling me how I should find a man who loves me more than I love them, as her lit cigarette hangs precariously above my head, along with her scalding hot coffee. Nope, don't mind cigarettes at all. Point is, I don't mind at all that she smokes, it doesn't get into my room and I generally reek of cigarettes after coming back from the bars/clubs at night anyway. Either way, she will generally hide when the need for a cig arises, either hanging out the kitchen window, or in her room as she watches her Spanish soap operas (different and a little classier than the Mexican ones, if I do say so myself, although less busty...). What would make the most sense would be out the balcony but I've never seen her there. I don't think she wants to choke her plants.
She also has an opinion on everything. I can actually sit there silently, eating my cereal and toast and nod my head obediently, and she'd gladly discuss Canary Island Bananas versus South American Bananas (she is pro Canary Island bananas, whereas my strong Ecuadorian roots favor those of S.A...although I dare not say that out loud). Also, whenever I mention I disagree with an opinion...she looks a little confused and then goes "Todo el mundo es diferente! Hay diferencias entre todos!" Which basically means she thinks I'm wrong...but you know...she's too nice to say it.
She also feeds me like I am a 200 pound man. I am not. She makes this awesome potato tortilla and tops it with chopped tomatoes and again, it's delicious, but the diameter is about a foot long. Sometimes she looks so hurt when I don't finish my meal, I guiltily try to eat more...but than the queasiness kicks in and that's when I know for sure to throw in the towel. She's lovingly embraced the fact that I eat mainly the most at breakfast, but she's becoming sneakier. Unlike before, she now pre-fills my cereal bowl to the top with my Choky Choc cereal (reminiscent of Coca Puffs, but in a concave flake form) and if I don't stop her in time, she tries to make me four pieces of toast at once. If I don't look up in time, her rationale is "well they're already buttered so I have to make them and you have to eat them". After my breakfeast, she'll pat my head like I've done well, by eating so much, and then attempt to feed me some more yogurt.
What's funnier is when I say I'm not hungry, she'll make a gesture like she wants to choke me. Yes violent. But it doesn't stop her, because without fail, she'll stop by my laptop in the dining room and ask again if I want to eat. (The wireless internet doesn't actually work so I always have to be hooked up to the router, which is so inconveniently located in her warpath)
I hope this part doesn't get back to her (haha but if it does oh well)...but she makes me a giant lunch every single possible day (okay its not actually that big). She insists on giving me sandwiches and I'm pretty sure all the Americans here in Spain complain about their sandwiches. Aurelia, without fail, always gives me one salami sandwich (just salami and bread) and one ham/turkey sandwich with a slice of cheese and bread. The sandwiches are very dry and no matter how many times I mention I really don't like the ham/turkey/cheese combo sandwich, they don't vary. Plus theres no condiments. Ew. What I think would frustrate her is if she was to find out that everyday, I hand my second and less appealing sandwich to the homeless man that hangs out on our stoop / on our corner. I can tell he enjoys the sandwich more than I do, and I can't eat two sandwiches. However, when she gives me a sandwich and one tortilla (potato and egg omelette, not the flat flour/corn wrap we know and love in USA/Mexico), I can totally eat those two.
When I can, I'll for sure get you all a pic of her. Byeeeeez
GG
Like a couple of my relatives in Mexico, she has tattooed eyebrows, eyeliner, and lip liner, which is always surprising in the morning when she pops out of the bathroom, hair in a disarray but makeup pretty well kept. Of course nothing beats my raccoon eyes in the morning, but this isn't a competition. I wish I could post a picture of her so that you could just get a visual of this blessed woman, but anytime I suggest we take a picture to send to my family she goes "Ay dios mío, ¡mira como estoy vestida!" (translation: oh my god, look how im dressed!) and then she quickly flees to her room where a few minutes later I can already smell the cigarette she just lit up. To calm herself down of course, from the frenzy I caused by my question
(Update from the time I started writing this blog entry and got distracted: Aurelia is always very curious about Skype. She doesn't own a computer, as the radio is her thang, so whenever she sees me talking to myself, she wanders over to check if I've lost my mind or not. Without fail she'll always see SOMEONE I'm skyping with, although so far the count is I think two...maybe three different people. Although I have yet to get a picture of her, she has been caught on camera. She met my little about an hour ago and she kept saying "Quien es esta bonita? Quien es la guapa?" Which was cute, and of course my little IS adorable, so true. Hilarious my little's name translates as "Gay" in spanish and when Aurelia heard that she got a little flustered and was scared away from the camera once she realized that the camera worked both ways. Too too funny.)
I remember filling out my AU abroad questionnaire on my ideal housing situation and when asked whether or not I cared if my hosts smoked. Of course I don't. Some of my fondest memories in Mexico are from family members lovingly offering me a cigarette at 8 years old. Or driving, smoking, and yelling at their kids (yes, at the same time). Or my aunt telling me how I should find a man who loves me more than I love them, as her lit cigarette hangs precariously above my head, along with her scalding hot coffee. Nope, don't mind cigarettes at all. Point is, I don't mind at all that she smokes, it doesn't get into my room and I generally reek of cigarettes after coming back from the bars/clubs at night anyway. Either way, she will generally hide when the need for a cig arises, either hanging out the kitchen window, or in her room as she watches her Spanish soap operas (different and a little classier than the Mexican ones, if I do say so myself, although less busty...). What would make the most sense would be out the balcony but I've never seen her there. I don't think she wants to choke her plants.
She also has an opinion on everything. I can actually sit there silently, eating my cereal and toast and nod my head obediently, and she'd gladly discuss Canary Island Bananas versus South American Bananas (she is pro Canary Island bananas, whereas my strong Ecuadorian roots favor those of S.A...although I dare not say that out loud). Also, whenever I mention I disagree with an opinion...she looks a little confused and then goes "Todo el mundo es diferente! Hay diferencias entre todos!" Which basically means she thinks I'm wrong...but you know...she's too nice to say it.
She also feeds me like I am a 200 pound man. I am not. She makes this awesome potato tortilla and tops it with chopped tomatoes and again, it's delicious, but the diameter is about a foot long. Sometimes she looks so hurt when I don't finish my meal, I guiltily try to eat more...but than the queasiness kicks in and that's when I know for sure to throw in the towel. She's lovingly embraced the fact that I eat mainly the most at breakfast, but she's becoming sneakier. Unlike before, she now pre-fills my cereal bowl to the top with my Choky Choc cereal (reminiscent of Coca Puffs, but in a concave flake form) and if I don't stop her in time, she tries to make me four pieces of toast at once. If I don't look up in time, her rationale is "well they're already buttered so I have to make them and you have to eat them". After my breakfeast, she'll pat my head like I've done well, by eating so much, and then attempt to feed me some more yogurt.
What's funnier is when I say I'm not hungry, she'll make a gesture like she wants to choke me. Yes violent. But it doesn't stop her, because without fail, she'll stop by my laptop in the dining room and ask again if I want to eat. (The wireless internet doesn't actually work so I always have to be hooked up to the router, which is so inconveniently located in her warpath)
I hope this part doesn't get back to her (haha but if it does oh well)...but she makes me a giant lunch every single possible day (okay its not actually that big). She insists on giving me sandwiches and I'm pretty sure all the Americans here in Spain complain about their sandwiches. Aurelia, without fail, always gives me one salami sandwich (just salami and bread) and one ham/turkey sandwich with a slice of cheese and bread. The sandwiches are very dry and no matter how many times I mention I really don't like the ham/turkey/cheese combo sandwich, they don't vary. Plus theres no condiments. Ew. What I think would frustrate her is if she was to find out that everyday, I hand my second and less appealing sandwich to the homeless man that hangs out on our stoop / on our corner. I can tell he enjoys the sandwich more than I do, and I can't eat two sandwiches. However, when she gives me a sandwich and one tortilla (potato and egg omelette, not the flat flour/corn wrap we know and love in USA/Mexico), I can totally eat those two.
When I can, I'll for sure get you all a pic of her. Byeeeeez
GG
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I Have Been Sick for 10 Days, Yet That Hasn't Stopped Me
It's true. Many of you might remember me mentioning my fatigue and fever from Valencia. Well the fever only lasted that night and is gone but I got my annual (whats the word for every two or so years?) outbreak of a nasty cold sore due to the intense fever, which then was followed by what I believe is a cold accompanied by post nasal drip which then caused a sore throat and ... possibly a sinus infection. But the cool thing is I'll never know...nor did I at any time over these past 8 days, see a doctor. They take care of things a little differently here in España. If you feel sick, you go to the pharmacy, not to an actual doctor or a hospital. Hospitals I believe are for serious things like...broken bones and cancer. Whereas anything that can be taken care of over the counter will be taken care of over the counter.
My first experience at the pharmacy was with Julia (the pharmacist) at the pharmacy around the corner from Aurelia's house last Wednesday. It was for my fever blister thing that decided to consume half my face. I walked in and pointed to my chin because I had failed to SpanishDict.com the word for cold sore, but Julia nodded knowledgeably and scurried into the backroom where she produced a tiny tiny tiny tube of gel/cream that was supposed to be applied 5 times a day (even though there was really only enough for one day). At 2.50 euros it was quite a bargain since Abreva generally costs me (ie. my mom) around 12 dollars I believe.
Second experience was Friday when I had officially run out of the medicine and needed to pick up my friend (studying abroad in Rome but was coming to visit) from the airport. Outbreak was severe and I was officially not getting the cat calls from men due to it. I rushed into another pharmacy very close to my Friday classes and this time Teresa (I made up Teresa's name because I didn't actually have time to notice, they were super fast) the pharmacist saw me walk in and I think she was a little startled. Cold sores are not pretty okay? After a "oh...but it has advanced quite a lot." from her (translated from Spanish) she produced the exact same cream and charged me only 2 euros this time. Medicine is cheap in Madrid.
Ran to get D from the airport...or rather I calmly took the metro and I slowly realized I had failed to establish a meeting point and that my Spanish phone to her Italian phone was not connecting. Amazingly enough, I was walking towards the terminal I knew she was in and as fate would have it we literally ran into each other. I hadn't even begun to panic yet. Probably because at this point the actual illness that is in my body decided it wasnt getting enough attention and my sinus' plugged up and I was little light headed.
But see...being sick does not stop the fact that I am in Madrid or the fact that D was visiting. So I continued onward.
And by onward I literally mean I think I've walked everywhere in Madrid. I saw so many things that I haven't just because I don't think I've been exploring as much as I should be. We walked around Aurelia's house, which is very very close to Casa de Campos where there is an amusement park (didn't go into the park, but its there), giant pond with row boats and men doing crew (is that the verb?) as well as a lot of outdoor restaurants and a ZOO (again, didn't go in...but its there).
On Saturday, when Madrid decided to rain instead of be sunny and cool like it normally is, we walked all over the city. Started at Aurelia's house and up towards Templo de Debod which is ACTUALLY a legit ancient Egyptian ruin imported FROM Egypt (to clarify) as was originally in southern Egypt dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Isis. Back in the day, southern Egypt was flooding (like Egypt generally does...I hear, but more severely I assume) and Spain donated a lot of money for ruin preservation...so much that Egypt was so grateful they donated this Temple and they re-constructed it about a mile away from Aurelia's house. So although I doubt I'll get to go to Egypt while I'm here, its cool I got to see this. I think I've said Egypt enough that you all get the point. Egypt. We also met this random Spaniard named Pedro who once he took our picture, offered to get us into clubs for free. And he had the cutest dog ever. The Spanish are just so damn nice.
From there we walked through Plaza de España and although I pass this monument almost EVERY time I go to class, I always pass the back end of it and I never realized what it was until I was up close. It's got Cervantes seated, looking down on Don Quijote and Sancho Panza, who you all already know are my faves. Also for the past month, they've had a sort of open market at Plaza de España where everyone is selling these "Llamadores de Angeles" which are really long necklaces with basically a bell decorated and placed in a little sphere. I'm beyond tempted to buy one and may have to go back. A lot of people wear them here (and owl necklaces? random...)
I am going to wrap up this blog post with my final visit to the Pharmacy. I went back to Julia (real name, although identity is confidential). After my hectic week I had become completely blocked up in the nasal region along with the sore throat. I swiftly walked into the Pharmacy to wait in line for twenty minutes, as it appeared a group of fifty year old women had all come in together to purchase all the needs for all their families. Julia, seeing and recognizing me, finally ushered me to the side and once again, as it so happens, my Spanish failed me and I forgot how to say mucus. (Essential to know I suppose). Actually I did remember the term "Mocos" which we affectionately refer to my one uncle occasionally, but I thought it was some Mexican slang and opted to whisper it due to my uncertainty and the fact it sounds ridiculous. Julia laughed and produced a giant bottle of anti-mocos (I'm lazy and I'm not going to actually go check the bottle) but just said take it 3 times a day. She didn't actually specify the amount, but I assumed two cap fulls 3 times a day would be sufficient.
It makes me a little dizzy but I feel its been effective. I have so much to write still, but I think this blog post has exceeded the "interesting" limit and I'll wait a couple days to post the rest!!!
Love you alllllllllllll.
P.S. No more barcelona this weekend. (i.e. No Puyol stalking). Trip there and back was just so DAMN expensive. SIGH
My first experience at the pharmacy was with Julia (the pharmacist) at the pharmacy around the corner from Aurelia's house last Wednesday. It was for my fever blister thing that decided to consume half my face. I walked in and pointed to my chin because I had failed to SpanishDict.com the word for cold sore, but Julia nodded knowledgeably and scurried into the backroom where she produced a tiny tiny tiny tube of gel/cream that was supposed to be applied 5 times a day (even though there was really only enough for one day). At 2.50 euros it was quite a bargain since Abreva generally costs me (ie. my mom) around 12 dollars I believe.
Second experience was Friday when I had officially run out of the medicine and needed to pick up my friend (studying abroad in Rome but was coming to visit) from the airport. Outbreak was severe and I was officially not getting the cat calls from men due to it. I rushed into another pharmacy very close to my Friday classes and this time Teresa (I made up Teresa's name because I didn't actually have time to notice, they were super fast) the pharmacist saw me walk in and I think she was a little startled. Cold sores are not pretty okay? After a "oh...but it has advanced quite a lot." from her (translated from Spanish) she produced the exact same cream and charged me only 2 euros this time. Medicine is cheap in Madrid.
Ran to get D from the airport...or rather I calmly took the metro and I slowly realized I had failed to establish a meeting point and that my Spanish phone to her Italian phone was not connecting. Amazingly enough, I was walking towards the terminal I knew she was in and as fate would have it we literally ran into each other. I hadn't even begun to panic yet. Probably because at this point the actual illness that is in my body decided it wasnt getting enough attention and my sinus' plugged up and I was little light headed.
But see...being sick does not stop the fact that I am in Madrid or the fact that D was visiting. So I continued onward.
And by onward I literally mean I think I've walked everywhere in Madrid. I saw so many things that I haven't just because I don't think I've been exploring as much as I should be. We walked around Aurelia's house, which is very very close to Casa de Campos where there is an amusement park (didn't go into the park, but its there), giant pond with row boats and men doing crew (is that the verb?) as well as a lot of outdoor restaurants and a ZOO (again, didn't go in...but its there).
On Saturday, when Madrid decided to rain instead of be sunny and cool like it normally is, we walked all over the city. Started at Aurelia's house and up towards Templo de Debod which is ACTUALLY a legit ancient Egyptian ruin imported FROM Egypt (to clarify) as was originally in southern Egypt dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Isis. Back in the day, southern Egypt was flooding (like Egypt generally does...I hear, but more severely I assume) and Spain donated a lot of money for ruin preservation...so much that Egypt was so grateful they donated this Temple and they re-constructed it about a mile away from Aurelia's house. So although I doubt I'll get to go to Egypt while I'm here, its cool I got to see this. I think I've said Egypt enough that you all get the point. Egypt. We also met this random Spaniard named Pedro who once he took our picture, offered to get us into clubs for free. And he had the cutest dog ever. The Spanish are just so damn nice.
From there we walked through Plaza de España and although I pass this monument almost EVERY time I go to class, I always pass the back end of it and I never realized what it was until I was up close. It's got Cervantes seated, looking down on Don Quijote and Sancho Panza, who you all already know are my faves. Also for the past month, they've had a sort of open market at Plaza de España where everyone is selling these "Llamadores de Angeles" which are really long necklaces with basically a bell decorated and placed in a little sphere. I'm beyond tempted to buy one and may have to go back. A lot of people wear them here (and owl necklaces? random...)
I am going to wrap up this blog post with my final visit to the Pharmacy. I went back to Julia (real name, although identity is confidential). After my hectic week I had become completely blocked up in the nasal region along with the sore throat. I swiftly walked into the Pharmacy to wait in line for twenty minutes, as it appeared a group of fifty year old women had all come in together to purchase all the needs for all their families. Julia, seeing and recognizing me, finally ushered me to the side and once again, as it so happens, my Spanish failed me and I forgot how to say mucus. (Essential to know I suppose). Actually I did remember the term "Mocos" which we affectionately refer to my one uncle occasionally, but I thought it was some Mexican slang and opted to whisper it due to my uncertainty and the fact it sounds ridiculous. Julia laughed and produced a giant bottle of anti-mocos (I'm lazy and I'm not going to actually go check the bottle) but just said take it 3 times a day. She didn't actually specify the amount, but I assumed two cap fulls 3 times a day would be sufficient.
It makes me a little dizzy but I feel its been effective. I have so much to write still, but I think this blog post has exceeded the "interesting" limit and I'll wait a couple days to post the rest!!!
Love you alllllllllllll.
P.S. No more barcelona this weekend. (i.e. No Puyol stalking). Trip there and back was just so DAMN expensive. SIGH
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Puyol
I'm rather obsessed and currently have nothing better to do (okay well there IS that Franco reading I should be doing) than blog about my love for the FC Barcelona player. Cheers Mario, this makes me a Barca fan.
What I currently know about him:
He's 32 years old. He prefers yoga to the club scene. He has long beautiful curly hair. He plays center defender for FC Barcelona and was on the Spanish championship team for the last world cup. He is a follower of Buddhism. He ALSO has a blogspot blog (for those of you who don't know...I write using blogspot.)
http://carles5puyol.blogspot.com/
I'm actually going to Barcelona next weekend to meet my big who is surprisingly (but inconveniently) showing up in Spain, yet not the actual city I'm staying in (silly big...) and going with my friend Tita (of course!). Perhaps I can convince them both to do a day of Puyol seeking (because I do not stalk...)
I leave you with this wonderful picture of Puyol. Isn't he sweet?
GG
What I currently know about him:
He's 32 years old. He prefers yoga to the club scene. He has long beautiful curly hair. He plays center defender for FC Barcelona and was on the Spanish championship team for the last world cup. He is a follower of Buddhism. He ALSO has a blogspot blog (for those of you who don't know...I write using blogspot.)
http://carles5puyol.blogspot.com/
I'm actually going to Barcelona next weekend to meet my big who is surprisingly (but inconveniently) showing up in Spain, yet not the actual city I'm staying in (silly big...) and going with my friend Tita (of course!). Perhaps I can convince them both to do a day of Puyol seeking (because I do not stalk...)
I leave you with this wonderful picture of Puyol. Isn't he sweet?
GG
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Valencia - The City That Is Always Sleeping
Vale, we went to Valencia this past weekend, a hearty group of 6 American University students. In this trip I not only flew my first RyanAir flight (scary shit) and slept in my first hostel (nice, but not purple like their marketing campaign declares), I enjoyed the sights of this way old city and philosophized with my fellow comrades on religious views...after a few glasses of vino, of course.
We first arrived in Valencia October 1st around 4 pm, my brother's twenty-fifth birthday actually!, to complete and utter quiet. It was a little eerie, walking around what we thought was downtown, but actually turned out to be the older section. All the shops close for their siesta, which I understand that almost everywhere in Spain still enjoys this custom, just not Madrid.
The 6 of us stayed in the Purple Nest Hostel in Valencia, highly rated and recommended on Hostelworld.com (do you think I get free stuff if I start name dropping businesses and the such?) and checked into our 8 person dorm. No matter how much planning we did, we knew we were bound to get two roommates into our 8 person dorm, especially on a weekend.
The hostel itself was huge and nothing like what I've always imagined / what my mother warned me about. It had about 6 floors and our dorm had its own bathroom, although the floor baths were better and I can easily say that this hostel provided me with the best shower I've had in a month. No offense to Aurelia's house, there's just not hot water or pressure...like ever.
Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, next to Barcelona and Madrid of course. Walking around, one would think you'd be in a little town but we climbed up a giant bell tower (and when I say climbed, I mean we used every breath in our body to get ourselves to the top because it was enormous) and we were rewarded with this view.
It is a little dark, as the sun was setting on a cloudy day, but it was even calmer up here than in the mostly sleeping city.
Plus, what would a trip to Valencia be without Paella? Valencia createdddd Paella. Oh dear, I nearly dropped my laptop on the tile floor. No bueno. Anyway, back to Paella. Here's a pick with the mostly gone Paella and did everyone know you could get a bottle of wine in Spain for like $10?!
This wasn't an all together thrilling blog post, mainly because Sunday morning I awoke feeling gross (and no...not too much vino mom) which then escalated to include fatigue and fever! Our flight back was with RyanAir again, and the turbulence made it feel like the plane was actually going to crash. My friend J literally was freaking out next to me and said that in my attempt to sleep and not move a muscle I barely registered the turbulence (which I noticed but was feeling so sick that I prayed for death ughardgklhag)
Currently reading up on Franco to keep myself enlightened and because I'm taking a class on it! I think I've finally gotten my classes all sorted out, but we'll see what AU does to mess it up!
<3 GG
We first arrived in Valencia October 1st around 4 pm, my brother's twenty-fifth birthday actually!, to complete and utter quiet. It was a little eerie, walking around what we thought was downtown, but actually turned out to be the older section. All the shops close for their siesta, which I understand that almost everywhere in Spain still enjoys this custom, just not Madrid.
The 6 of us stayed in the Purple Nest Hostel in Valencia, highly rated and recommended on Hostelworld.com (do you think I get free stuff if I start name dropping businesses and the such?) and checked into our 8 person dorm. No matter how much planning we did, we knew we were bound to get two roommates into our 8 person dorm, especially on a weekend.
The hostel itself was huge and nothing like what I've always imagined / what my mother warned me about. It had about 6 floors and our dorm had its own bathroom, although the floor baths were better and I can easily say that this hostel provided me with the best shower I've had in a month. No offense to Aurelia's house, there's just not hot water or pressure...like ever.
Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, next to Barcelona and Madrid of course. Walking around, one would think you'd be in a little town but we climbed up a giant bell tower (and when I say climbed, I mean we used every breath in our body to get ourselves to the top because it was enormous) and we were rewarded with this view.
Plus, what would a trip to Valencia be without Paella? Valencia createdddd Paella. Oh dear, I nearly dropped my laptop on the tile floor. No bueno. Anyway, back to Paella. Here's a pick with the mostly gone Paella and did everyone know you could get a bottle of wine in Spain for like $10?!
Currently reading up on Franco to keep myself enlightened and because I'm taking a class on it! I think I've finally gotten my classes all sorted out, but we'll see what AU does to mess it up!
<3 GG
Saturday, September 25, 2010
AU Abroad and an Alfajore
I'm listening to "the way you make me feel" my Michael Jackson. if you want to join in!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPjfMSn4f6c
So. American University has been particularly unhelpful. It's been a really rough week and I'm going to vent a little. I came to Madrid with about 7 or 8 classes in mind that I could possibly take at ICADE (five max). The grading system works differently then in the states which means while the courses are probably about the same difficulty, we'll be graded harder. And the Spanish grade will not reflect the grade transferred to AU. To put it simply, if I was to get a 7 out of 10 in a class, that's considered a really good grade here. Hardly anyone ever gets a 10 out of 10 because a 10 would indicate you know more than the teacher does. So an A here would be comparable to a B+ or an A- I suppose. Unfortunately, when AU sees the 7, they will consider it a C.
Elena, who I've mentioned before and works with AU at the Mosaic institution offered to let D and myself take a class at Mosaic to sort of "cushion" our GPA while here, since they grade on the American scale. We were told this Wednesday that because we are directly enrolled into ICADE, we are not allowed to take a class through American University - Mosaic. Even though we'd already been to two classes.
This wouldn't be so bad if there is system with my major where I'm supposed to be taking a total of 4 classes in Spanish, at least 2 of which have to be business classes. This meant I had to drop the Spanish class I was taking at Mosaic and enroll myself in another Spanish class at ICADE, where there are almost NO cultural or history classes. The university mainly has business classes since there's no "general education" requirements of the students. I've e-mailed my advisers (yes plural) at American in DC but evidently they have Thursdays and Fridays off. Clearly I need to be an adviser in the future because they keep such convenient hours.
So right now here are my classes.
Operations Management (English)
Sistemas de Información de Marketing
Habilidades Directivas
Recursos Humanos
Historia Cóntemporanea de Español (literally all about Franquismo as far as I can tell)
The way I feel? Stressed. And I don't generally show how stressed I am until I start biting my nails. My nails are pretty stubby at this point.
Sorry to bum you all out! So on a lighter note we went to Plaza de España tonight to see the Argentine in Madrid exposition, which included a lot of food clothing and accessories for sale, as well as wine tasting and cultural stuff like art and dancing (although we missed the dancing by an hour). I got a tasty alfajore and tried some wine. Anddddd I finally got the bag I've been looking for. My mom is going to yell at me and say "i told you so" but whatever. Basically everyone in Spain carries these little brown and black bags that go over your shoulder and across your chest and hang at your hip. Mine is very very nice.
Also!! While walking around this place, this guy that was giving out free samples of some sort of sunflower seed goes "¿Ecuatoriana?" which was awesome if only half right, especially since I don't think I look that very Ecuadorian. He then proceeded to guess my friend J's ethnicity too but failed at D's thinking she was Chilean. 2/3 isn't bad though.
My whole family in general tells me I look more Spanish than Ecuadorian or Mexican, but that's not really what I've noticed either. The Spanish here actually brown haired and sometimes blonde and almost everyone has blue, green or hazel eyes. Then again Madrid is a little north so I'll update later on how the people I've encountered look. Although skin paleness wise, I may be lighter (of courseeee).
Next weekend a group of us are going to Valencia! Promising in pictures and a good time no doubt.
GG
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPjfMSn4f6c
So. American University has been particularly unhelpful. It's been a really rough week and I'm going to vent a little. I came to Madrid with about 7 or 8 classes in mind that I could possibly take at ICADE (five max). The grading system works differently then in the states which means while the courses are probably about the same difficulty, we'll be graded harder. And the Spanish grade will not reflect the grade transferred to AU. To put it simply, if I was to get a 7 out of 10 in a class, that's considered a really good grade here. Hardly anyone ever gets a 10 out of 10 because a 10 would indicate you know more than the teacher does. So an A here would be comparable to a B+ or an A- I suppose. Unfortunately, when AU sees the 7, they will consider it a C.
Elena, who I've mentioned before and works with AU at the Mosaic institution offered to let D and myself take a class at Mosaic to sort of "cushion" our GPA while here, since they grade on the American scale. We were told this Wednesday that because we are directly enrolled into ICADE, we are not allowed to take a class through American University - Mosaic. Even though we'd already been to two classes.
This wouldn't be so bad if there is system with my major where I'm supposed to be taking a total of 4 classes in Spanish, at least 2 of which have to be business classes. This meant I had to drop the Spanish class I was taking at Mosaic and enroll myself in another Spanish class at ICADE, where there are almost NO cultural or history classes. The university mainly has business classes since there's no "general education" requirements of the students. I've e-mailed my advisers (yes plural) at American in DC but evidently they have Thursdays and Fridays off. Clearly I need to be an adviser in the future because they keep such convenient hours.
So right now here are my classes.
Operations Management (English)
Sistemas de Información de Marketing
Habilidades Directivas
Recursos Humanos
Historia Cóntemporanea de Español (literally all about Franquismo as far as I can tell)
The way I feel? Stressed. And I don't generally show how stressed I am until I start biting my nails. My nails are pretty stubby at this point.
Sorry to bum you all out! So on a lighter note we went to Plaza de España tonight to see the Argentine in Madrid exposition, which included a lot of food clothing and accessories for sale, as well as wine tasting and cultural stuff like art and dancing (although we missed the dancing by an hour). I got a tasty alfajore and tried some wine. Anddddd I finally got the bag I've been looking for. My mom is going to yell at me and say "i told you so" but whatever. Basically everyone in Spain carries these little brown and black bags that go over your shoulder and across your chest and hang at your hip. Mine is very very nice.
Also!! While walking around this place, this guy that was giving out free samples of some sort of sunflower seed goes "¿Ecuatoriana?" which was awesome if only half right, especially since I don't think I look that very Ecuadorian. He then proceeded to guess my friend J's ethnicity too but failed at D's thinking she was Chilean. 2/3 isn't bad though.
My whole family in general tells me I look more Spanish than Ecuadorian or Mexican, but that's not really what I've noticed either. The Spanish here actually brown haired and sometimes blonde and almost everyone has blue, green or hazel eyes. Then again Madrid is a little north so I'll update later on how the people I've encountered look. Although skin paleness wise, I may be lighter (of courseeee).
Next weekend a group of us are going to Valencia! Promising in pictures and a good time no doubt.
GG
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
First Day of Class, Sort Of
Hi all. Really short post right now. It's 6:20 AM here in Madrid and I've been up for an hour. I have to catch the bus at 7:15 to make it to school on time. First class of the day is Habilidades Directivas with Profesor Abel Minguez. I'm not all together sure what to expect because as of this minute I haven't had a class at ICADE, only the Mosaic institute which American University uses as a satellite school. I've been having a lot of problems signing up and finding classes that will a. fit my schedule and b. actually transfer as credits.
Sigh. To cheer myself up I shall listen to Waka Waka by Shakira. I haven't mentioned it in this blog but they literally play this song everywhere, including at clubs and bars. They're really proud to have won the world cup and add a star to their crest. Wish me luck!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRpeEdMmmQ0&ob=av2e
Sigh. To cheer myself up I shall listen to Waka Waka by Shakira. I haven't mentioned it in this blog but they literally play this song everywhere, including at clubs and bars. They're really proud to have won the world cup and add a star to their crest. Wish me luck!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRpeEdMmmQ0&ob=av2e
Monday, September 20, 2010
Toledo, los Matadors e ICADE
Firstly, I apologize for not writing in a whole week! Time flies very quickly here and we've all been running around going and seeing everything we can before classes start.
This past Saturday, my program at ICADE was welcomed to an outing sponsored by American University's "Madrid and the Mediterranean Program" (students that take classes in English and in an enclave program), to the beautiful city of Toledo, which is about an hour from Madrid.
Toledo is famous for many things, including being a "Warrior City". You can walk up and down the streets and most stores will sell handmade knives and swords. All very cool. It's also home to Catedral Primada Santa Maria de Toledo, which was made by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel back in the 13th century. It was supposed to be their final resting ground, but once they conquered Grenada, they switched their plans. Many of their offspring are buried in the tombs of the cathedral however, along with many bishops of the time. Over the buried bishops, the church flies their hat, which is really weird to see a bunch of red hats hanging around. The cathedral couldn't really fit into the frame of my camera, but this is the best I have to offer!
The Toledo region is also home to one of my favorite and probably one of the most well known Spanish stories! Don Quixote de la Mancha! Everywhere you look, you see his scrawny little body on top of his scrawnier horse, "Rocinante", and accompanied by his squire "Sancho Panza". The story is about an older gentleman of la Mancha (doesn't actually exist as far as I know) who after reading many stories of chivalry, decides to set off on his own adventures. He names the neighbor girl, his "Lady Love - Dulcinea", and takes on impossible (and slightly crazy) tasks. The famous quote from the story is "Dream the Impossible Dream", which is quite nice in my opinion, and part of a Frank Sinatra song. Below is an artist of Toledo hand engraving these little coins and plates with gold. It sits on a sort of clay substance so it doesn't move and they hammer quickly but in really small strokes into the plate / pendant.
And the bullfight. I knew I wasn't going to "enjoy" it but that I would at least appreciate going. I don't regret going. It's a big part of Spanish and Latin American culture. But I really don't think it's as pretty an art as people describe. Maybe I would have appreciated it more if the bull had more of a chance, let's say, just him and the matador. But the bull starts out already with something pinned into his neck, to weaken his neck muscles. And the banderilleros continue to poke at least 6 more little spears into the back of his neck. This is so that when the bull charges, his neck hangs down (I was told?).
Then, there's this guy called the picador. He comes in on a big armored horse with armored shoes and a giant ass spear. Here's a pic of the picador so you have a better idea. That's my friend R's head in the picture too.
The horse's eyes are covered so that he doesn't get spooked and toss the picador off, but what happens next is pretty intense. The bull charges and rams into the side of the horse, although the only thing the horse feels is that its getting shoved. Sometimes the bull is strong enough to lift the horse and the man off the ground, but in this case it didn't happen. The picador then viciously stabs the bull more with that spear he's got in his hand. It's very sad and kind of gross because I'm pretty sure this is what weakens the bull the most. He'll have this dark red stain down his front shoulders because of this attack.
Finally the matador comes in and does a lot of fancy cape work and with his sword, aims to strike the bull through his heart. If he's done it correctly, the bull dies instantly. Unfortunately I don't think any of the matadors I saw were that good, and therefore the bull walked around for a few minutes until a guy in all black comes out and strikes at his throat to put him out of his misery. The bull will generally sit down before that point, but even after the last strike from the man in black, he tries goring the matadors.
The entire stadium then rises to cheer on the matador, but really I just stood to honor the poor bull. I've read that in Latin America, the audience tends to cheer on the bull as opposed to the matador. I like this way a lot better.
Here's a relatively cool video where the bull is charging the matador's footmen, not the actual matador, and when the bull is still kicking it, no worries, no dead bull in this one, promise!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7ixvX9xS_c
I´m not going to say I can see why the Spanish like the bull fights. I imagine back in the day, it was a big deal and something to take pride in that you could take on a bull. Also because the sacrifice of the bull to the gods was common. But now it is a bloody sport that I don't appreciate and I can easily say that I've seen it once and I have no desire to go back.
But on a cheerier note! Today was my first day at ICADE, the business school of La Universidad Pontificia Comillas. I've met this one girl through a friend, and apparently all the really prestigious and "preppy" kids go to UPC. I can already see why. The first day there were so many polo ralph lauren shirts, it was like a convention. Needless to say it felt like the Kogod Business School at American University, so no problems there. Unfortunately my first class, Analisis del Consumidor, was canceled due to the professor's illness. My second class actually took place at the American University Enclave site, called Mosaic. It was my regular spanish class and it went along fairly decently.
On the spot we were told to pick random numbers that describe us and the others were to guess, through asking us questions in Spanish. Here were my numbers (numbered in the European version)
10.6 My birthday
23.5 Alyssa's birth, a day I will never get over.
5.5 Cinco de Mayo. Important day to Mexicans, although it is NOT their independence day. My teacher didn't actually know about it until we told her how even americans celebrate it too.
13.8 My quince años. Ugh. Surprisingly neither of the puerto rican girls had quinceaños. Thanks a lot mom.
716 Buffalo area code.
That was a LOT but that's all for now! I'll try to update more frequently but less so! Me and a classmate are headed to Parque Retiro tomorrow since we don't have class and after a week in Spain we have YET to see it!
Besos,
GG
This past Saturday, my program at ICADE was welcomed to an outing sponsored by American University's "Madrid and the Mediterranean Program" (students that take classes in English and in an enclave program), to the beautiful city of Toledo, which is about an hour from Madrid.
Toledo is famous for many things, including being a "Warrior City". You can walk up and down the streets and most stores will sell handmade knives and swords. All very cool. It's also home to Catedral Primada Santa Maria de Toledo, which was made by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel back in the 13th century. It was supposed to be their final resting ground, but once they conquered Grenada, they switched their plans. Many of their offspring are buried in the tombs of the cathedral however, along with many bishops of the time. Over the buried bishops, the church flies their hat, which is really weird to see a bunch of red hats hanging around. The cathedral couldn't really fit into the frame of my camera, but this is the best I have to offer!
And the bullfight. I knew I wasn't going to "enjoy" it but that I would at least appreciate going. I don't regret going. It's a big part of Spanish and Latin American culture. But I really don't think it's as pretty an art as people describe. Maybe I would have appreciated it more if the bull had more of a chance, let's say, just him and the matador. But the bull starts out already with something pinned into his neck, to weaken his neck muscles. And the banderilleros continue to poke at least 6 more little spears into the back of his neck. This is so that when the bull charges, his neck hangs down (I was told?).
Then, there's this guy called the picador. He comes in on a big armored horse with armored shoes and a giant ass spear. Here's a pic of the picador so you have a better idea. That's my friend R's head in the picture too.
The horse's eyes are covered so that he doesn't get spooked and toss the picador off, but what happens next is pretty intense. The bull charges and rams into the side of the horse, although the only thing the horse feels is that its getting shoved. Sometimes the bull is strong enough to lift the horse and the man off the ground, but in this case it didn't happen. The picador then viciously stabs the bull more with that spear he's got in his hand. It's very sad and kind of gross because I'm pretty sure this is what weakens the bull the most. He'll have this dark red stain down his front shoulders because of this attack.
Finally the matador comes in and does a lot of fancy cape work and with his sword, aims to strike the bull through his heart. If he's done it correctly, the bull dies instantly. Unfortunately I don't think any of the matadors I saw were that good, and therefore the bull walked around for a few minutes until a guy in all black comes out and strikes at his throat to put him out of his misery. The bull will generally sit down before that point, but even after the last strike from the man in black, he tries goring the matadors.
The entire stadium then rises to cheer on the matador, but really I just stood to honor the poor bull. I've read that in Latin America, the audience tends to cheer on the bull as opposed to the matador. I like this way a lot better.
Here's a relatively cool video where the bull is charging the matador's footmen, not the actual matador, and when the bull is still kicking it, no worries, no dead bull in this one, promise!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7ixvX9xS_c
I´m not going to say I can see why the Spanish like the bull fights. I imagine back in the day, it was a big deal and something to take pride in that you could take on a bull. Also because the sacrifice of the bull to the gods was common. But now it is a bloody sport that I don't appreciate and I can easily say that I've seen it once and I have no desire to go back.
But on a cheerier note! Today was my first day at ICADE, the business school of La Universidad Pontificia Comillas. I've met this one girl through a friend, and apparently all the really prestigious and "preppy" kids go to UPC. I can already see why. The first day there were so many polo ralph lauren shirts, it was like a convention. Needless to say it felt like the Kogod Business School at American University, so no problems there. Unfortunately my first class, Analisis del Consumidor, was canceled due to the professor's illness. My second class actually took place at the American University Enclave site, called Mosaic. It was my regular spanish class and it went along fairly decently.
On the spot we were told to pick random numbers that describe us and the others were to guess, through asking us questions in Spanish. Here were my numbers (numbered in the European version)
10.6 My birthday
23.5 Alyssa's birth, a day I will never get over.
5.5 Cinco de Mayo. Important day to Mexicans, although it is NOT their independence day. My teacher didn't actually know about it until we told her how even americans celebrate it too.
13.8 My quince años. Ugh. Surprisingly neither of the puerto rican girls had quinceaños. Thanks a lot mom.
716 Buffalo area code.
That was a LOT but that's all for now! I'll try to update more frequently but less so! Me and a classmate are headed to Parque Retiro tomorrow since we don't have class and after a week in Spain we have YET to see it!
Besos,
GG
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Dictators and Gazpacho
Today was our first day meeting with the other ICADE / I.R. majors at Mosaic, which is where the American University office in Madrid operates. We met with Mari Carmen and Elena and we discussed getting around Madrid, what to do should we have problems. I won't go into details too much because it was pretty standard but Mari Carmen mentioned something really interesting about Spanish culture.
She claims that since the current adults in Spain spent their younger years growing up under a very repressed dictatorship, where husbands couldn't kiss their wives goodbye in public for fear of being arrested, adults now a days never took to discouraging their children from showing and enjoying that type of affection. Which would definitely explain the two Madrileños on the plane from JFK who acted like it was their honeymoon. So she warned us that while it would seem weird for people to kiss and hug as a greeting, and maybe be a little "freer" in the clubs discos and bars, to say the least, it's because they live to enjoy the freedom they have. Definitely a nice sentiment. It's definitely more welcoming here, where the first person you meet will call you their friend and kiss both your cheeks.
I had my first Gazpacho today too. It sounds gross and I think you have to appreciate it more for its cultural significance than for the way it tastes, no lie. It's about the same consistency as tomato soup, but slightly lighter in color because they add sweet pepper, cucumbers and a little garlic, and it's blended until smooth. You can eat it "plain" like that or you can add more vegetables to make it more interesting. Elena encouraged me to dunk bread in it. The weird thing about the soup is that it's served cold, because the Spanish eat it generally in the summer when it's 100 degrees. It's super healthy, think V8 juice, and it fills you up more than you would expect.
A siesta was def required after the meal (which second course consisted of Perch in a strange but super good sauce and flan...hey the big meal of the day is at lunch okay?!) but after the restaurant we were headed to El Museo del Prado. Acclaimed as in the top five best art museums in the world. We didn't spend a whole lot of time in there, but luckily AU did pay all our entrance fees.
There aren't any pictures from inside the museo, of course, but it was amazing amazing. I'm pretty sure 11th grade Spanish class was primarily focused on spanish art, as well as the first semester of my first Spanish class in college. We walked in and the professor at the American U school focused on 4 major artists: Raphael, El Greco, Goya, and Velázquez. After extensively studying the last three, I knew the importance of Las Meninas once I saw it. The painting itself is epic. Nothing in books or pictures compares to what I saw, hanging in front of me. Velázquez literally takes up the whole room but everyone´s eyes simply gravitate to Las Meninas. I´d learned so much about the painting, how not only it is a portrait of the princess Margarita, but also a self portrait of Velázquez, and interestingly enough, the King and Queen of Spain at the time are in it as well, but un-importantly featured in a mirror hanging on the wall in the back of the painting.
I also went to my first tapas bar! It was as wonderful and shady as I thought it would be! I ordered a "Tinto de Verano" which is pretty much Sangria in my opinion, only not as much fruit. Delicious obviously, and my friend R ordered a Mojito, which over course only reminded me of Tio B! Here be a lovely pic of me with said Mojito and also one of the bartender who was slightly surprised when I took his picture.
Adios amigos! Time for bed as I have to get up very early for my real orientation!
She claims that since the current adults in Spain spent their younger years growing up under a very repressed dictatorship, where husbands couldn't kiss their wives goodbye in public for fear of being arrested, adults now a days never took to discouraging their children from showing and enjoying that type of affection. Which would definitely explain the two Madrileños on the plane from JFK who acted like it was their honeymoon. So she warned us that while it would seem weird for people to kiss and hug as a greeting, and maybe be a little "freer" in the clubs discos and bars, to say the least, it's because they live to enjoy the freedom they have. Definitely a nice sentiment. It's definitely more welcoming here, where the first person you meet will call you their friend and kiss both your cheeks.
I had my first Gazpacho today too. It sounds gross and I think you have to appreciate it more for its cultural significance than for the way it tastes, no lie. It's about the same consistency as tomato soup, but slightly lighter in color because they add sweet pepper, cucumbers and a little garlic, and it's blended until smooth. You can eat it "plain" like that or you can add more vegetables to make it more interesting. Elena encouraged me to dunk bread in it. The weird thing about the soup is that it's served cold, because the Spanish eat it generally in the summer when it's 100 degrees. It's super healthy, think V8 juice, and it fills you up more than you would expect.
A siesta was def required after the meal (which second course consisted of Perch in a strange but super good sauce and flan...hey the big meal of the day is at lunch okay?!) but after the restaurant we were headed to El Museo del Prado. Acclaimed as in the top five best art museums in the world. We didn't spend a whole lot of time in there, but luckily AU did pay all our entrance fees.
There aren't any pictures from inside the museo, of course, but it was amazing amazing. I'm pretty sure 11th grade Spanish class was primarily focused on spanish art, as well as the first semester of my first Spanish class in college. We walked in and the professor at the American U school focused on 4 major artists: Raphael, El Greco, Goya, and Velázquez. After extensively studying the last three, I knew the importance of Las Meninas once I saw it. The painting itself is epic. Nothing in books or pictures compares to what I saw, hanging in front of me. Velázquez literally takes up the whole room but everyone´s eyes simply gravitate to Las Meninas. I´d learned so much about the painting, how not only it is a portrait of the princess Margarita, but also a self portrait of Velázquez, and interestingly enough, the King and Queen of Spain at the time are in it as well, but un-importantly featured in a mirror hanging on the wall in the back of the painting.
I also went to my first tapas bar! It was as wonderful and shady as I thought it would be! I ordered a "Tinto de Verano" which is pretty much Sangria in my opinion, only not as much fruit. Delicious obviously, and my friend R ordered a Mojito, which over course only reminded me of Tio B! Here be a lovely pic of me with said Mojito and also one of the bartender who was slightly surprised when I took his picture.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Inquisition, A Siesta and a Tuna Salad
Hello all!
So I've arrived safe, sound and not all that sweaty in Madrid, Spain. It's a cool 91 degrees here and the sun is shining brightly. Barajas airport seems to be so big that it actually encircles Madrid and it's about a half hour from where my host family is located!
I was anticipating a full on Spanish inquisition when I arrived at customs and immigration. Since I got on the plane at JFK, I'd been running through possible questions that they might ask me and answering them accordingly, consulting my Webster English/Spanish dictionary so I didn't make a fool out of myself. Which my mom can tell you was probably the safer option than me trying to speak under pressure (i.e. Spanish Consulate; Where I was asked if I can speak Spanish and I responded "urgh....si? mas o menos" which roughly means "daflkjadgl yes? more or less" although not quite as graceful.) I got to immigration with my very heavy backpack behind the two Spanish lovebirds that spent the whole trip making out next to me, walked up to Alfonso (my immigration officer) and he politely smiled, inquired
"Estudiante?", to which I nodded.
"Y que estudias?" Alfonso asks.
"Negocios, Idiomas y Cultura" Go me.
He nodded, stamped my passport, smiled and waved me through. Not nearly as scary as Mexican or Ecuadorian immigration, that's for sure!
Elena, one of the coordinators for American University picked me up at the airport as well as fellow ICADE / American University student, R. We had coffee and tried to figure out my Sim Card which is still not working but I'm sure I'll figure out. I am a whiz with technology after all (not.)
I'm sure you're all very curious as to my homestay situation as well! Well I'm actually in a little apartment, very close to Retiro Park and Centro (central Madrid and ie where all the cool things) and about a block away from Campo de Moros. My homestay family consists of just one Señora. At this point I'm 80% sure her name is Aurelia (like in LOVE ACTUALLY!) because Elena told me her name very quickly and I haven't gotten the nerve up to ask her. As my dad suggested (who I just skyped with) I plan on asking her how she "spells her name". This method generally works. She loved the Truffalos (Buffalo Chocolates) and Yankee Candle candle I got her (Sweet Pea, already in her really cool bathroom).
I've got my own room (for once in my life!) with two full beds and more closet space than I could have ever asked for. Evidently she normally takes two students, but there weren´t as many as there have been in the past so it´s just me. As per my mother's regulations, all my clothes are already stashed and hung up and toiletries are put away. I'll be posting pictures asap, no worries!
"Aurelia" is really sweet, luckily! She's probably about 60, but still pretty spunky, and she enjoys her Spanish soap operas. But what Latina woman doesn't? Currently the cable is out so she is fretting around waiting for the cable guy and keeps asking if I want any food or something to drink. She made me a really healthy salad for dinner, and although I despise tuna and think it smells and assume it to taste a bit like cat food, it was really good on top of peppers, cucumbers, lettuce and tomatoes. She was really funny about trying to help with my phone and the internet. She's not really all too good with technology, I assume ICADE set her up with the internet for the students she hosts, as she doesn't have her own computer. I was trying to figure out the wireless and she guiltily just watched and reaffirmed she wouldn't even know how to plug it in.
Tomorrow all the ICADE kids are going to a small orientation (not the official one), lunch and to Museo del Prado. For now I'm just chilling out in the apartment and listening to the radio with "Aurelia"
Paz!
So I've arrived safe, sound and not all that sweaty in Madrid, Spain. It's a cool 91 degrees here and the sun is shining brightly. Barajas airport seems to be so big that it actually encircles Madrid and it's about a half hour from where my host family is located!
I was anticipating a full on Spanish inquisition when I arrived at customs and immigration. Since I got on the plane at JFK, I'd been running through possible questions that they might ask me and answering them accordingly, consulting my Webster English/Spanish dictionary so I didn't make a fool out of myself. Which my mom can tell you was probably the safer option than me trying to speak under pressure (i.e. Spanish Consulate; Where I was asked if I can speak Spanish and I responded "urgh....si? mas o menos" which roughly means "daflkjadgl yes? more or less" although not quite as graceful.) I got to immigration with my very heavy backpack behind the two Spanish lovebirds that spent the whole trip making out next to me, walked up to Alfonso (my immigration officer) and he politely smiled, inquired
"Estudiante?", to which I nodded.
"Y que estudias?" Alfonso asks.
"Negocios, Idiomas y Cultura" Go me.
He nodded, stamped my passport, smiled and waved me through. Not nearly as scary as Mexican or Ecuadorian immigration, that's for sure!
Elena, one of the coordinators for American University picked me up at the airport as well as fellow ICADE / American University student, R. We had coffee and tried to figure out my Sim Card which is still not working but I'm sure I'll figure out. I am a whiz with technology after all (not.)
I'm sure you're all very curious as to my homestay situation as well! Well I'm actually in a little apartment, very close to Retiro Park and Centro (central Madrid and ie where all the cool things) and about a block away from Campo de Moros. My homestay family consists of just one Señora. At this point I'm 80% sure her name is Aurelia (like in LOVE ACTUALLY!) because Elena told me her name very quickly and I haven't gotten the nerve up to ask her. As my dad suggested (who I just skyped with) I plan on asking her how she "spells her name". This method generally works. She loved the Truffalos (Buffalo Chocolates) and Yankee Candle candle I got her (Sweet Pea, already in her really cool bathroom).
I've got my own room (for once in my life!) with two full beds and more closet space than I could have ever asked for. Evidently she normally takes two students, but there weren´t as many as there have been in the past so it´s just me. As per my mother's regulations, all my clothes are already stashed and hung up and toiletries are put away. I'll be posting pictures asap, no worries!
"Aurelia" is really sweet, luckily! She's probably about 60, but still pretty spunky, and she enjoys her Spanish soap operas. But what Latina woman doesn't? Currently the cable is out so she is fretting around waiting for the cable guy and keeps asking if I want any food or something to drink. She made me a really healthy salad for dinner, and although I despise tuna and think it smells and assume it to taste a bit like cat food, it was really good on top of peppers, cucumbers, lettuce and tomatoes. She was really funny about trying to help with my phone and the internet. She's not really all too good with technology, I assume ICADE set her up with the internet for the students she hosts, as she doesn't have her own computer. I was trying to figure out the wireless and she guiltily just watched and reaffirmed she wouldn't even know how to plug it in.
Tomorrow all the ICADE kids are going to a small orientation (not the official one), lunch and to Museo del Prado. For now I'm just chilling out in the apartment and listening to the radio with "Aurelia"
Paz!
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