Mi Semana Muy Rápido

(A flower outside the Museu Gulbenkian in Lisboa, Portugal)

Seeing as I need to get up early tomorrow and meet all the BC kids for our weekend program trip to Córdoba and Granada, I will just quickly summarize this past week.

Monday: Long. My two classes were pretty tedious as I had just gotten back from Lisboa that morning. I got back to Julia's and wanted to call Bank of America right away and have them send me a new card. But, as luck would have it, the internet was down, and therefore, Skype wouldn't work. I was not about to rack up the charges for a 45-minute (including hold-time) international phone call on my cell phone, so I just hoped that by the next day the internet would have fixed itself. Because of my lack of internet, I also couldn't upload any of my pictures (there were over 400 from Lisbon alone), write my blog, answer my e-mails, or skype anybody. So I went to bed early, which was probably the most productive thing to do anyway.

Tuesday: Only two classes today and a 3.5 hour break in the middle. I spent my break in the computer lab researching internships for next summer. Some of the application deadlines are already only a month away, so I will soon need to add resumes and cover letters to my life-management schedule. After class, I went back to Julia's and found that the internet still wasn't working. I went to go tell Julia and found her in the living room playing with Prince Francesco. She went to check the internet cord in her room, which had been unplugged, so that solved that problem. I called Bank of America, who transferred me to Visa, who transferred me to Mastercard, who tried to transfer me back to Bank of America before I put my foot down. My old card is blocked and my new card should be here within two weeks. Feeling somewhat rude just sitting in my room while there was company in the living room, (Francesco was here with his mother, the Princess of Sicily, who was asleep on the couch in the sunroom) I grabbed some of my homework and joined Julia in the living room. I sat down on the floor and she said, "You can't do homework in the salon, the salon is for greeting people," I returned to my room, that plan having been quite abruptly shot down.

Wednesday: Also long. One of my professors asked me a question in class and I had no idea what she was saying (she was asking me something in Spanish). I responded that I didn't understand the question, and she rephrased it, but I still had no idea what she was asking. Someone else answered, and I felt silly. But the rest of the day was good. I met with Jennifer, my intercambio, and this week was the English week, so less stress for me. I interviewed her about drinking in Spain for a globalpost.com article requested by the editor. We chatted for quite a while and I learned a lot. There are some interesting social currents floating around in that topic. Julia and I also got alone pretty well during dinner, and she told me my Spanish was getting better and better. I felt that it was easier, too, so maybe I'm making progress, even if I can't understand my professors half the time. . .

Thursday (today): I woke up this morning and thought I heard a girl's voice in Julia's room. I didn't think anything of it and went about getting ready for class. As I was stuffing books into my bag, I turned around and there was a 5-year-old little girl standing in my doorway. I jumped, because she came out of nowhere, but then introduced myself and asked what her name was. I don't think she was expecting to see me either and she ran away. I generally seem to have that effect on children. Julia later told me she went running back into her room and whispered, "There's a girl in there!" Apparently, this was Sarah, one of Julia's great-nieces that goes to French school and speaks Spanish, French, and German. A tad precocious if you ask me. I later heard Julia yelling at her about eating too many candies, so I'll have to teach Sarah how to hide candy the next time she comes over (it's a skill that's served me well here in Spain). After class I took the train home as soon as I had plunked myself down, out of nowhere pops Guillermo. So we rode the train home together and I practiced my eye contact. He's much better at it than I. I think I'm shifty eyed - cops will always be able to tell if I'm lying. But he gets brownie points for telling me my Spanish is great - I don't think he's even actually ever heard me speak Spanish. But it's the thought that counts. Julia and I had another good conversation at dinner tonight, and I'm starting to feel less nervous about my Spanish, so I seem to be slowly moving in the right direction.

Talk to you in a few days - Happy Halloween!

Día Tres en Lisboa

(The sea otters at the Oceanário in Lisboa, Portugal)

On Sunday, I woke up a bit later and in a somewhat coordinated manner, and slid down the ladder without disturbing anybody. I showered, got dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast where I ate with Lidia. Kevin joined us about halfway through and then we headed to the computer room to plan the day's activities. All of the BC kids except for Kevin and I were heading back to Madrid early that afternoon, so it was going to be just the two of us all day.

After we had something that resembled a plan, we headed to the nearest Barclay's ATM, as I was running out of cash. I stuck my card in, gave the machine my pin number, and asked for 100 euros. The screen went red and printed me a receipt that said, "Your card has been captured for security reasons. Please call your bank. Thank you." I didn't even move. I stared at the screen and hoped that my card would pop back out. It didn't. I had 15 euros on me and, of course, it was Sunday, so the Barclay's was closed. I called Kevin over and the two of just stared at the red, flashing screen. After about 10 minutes of my calmly asking the machine for my card back, we decided to give up. Kevin said he had enough money to get us both through the day, so with my poor card still under the captivity of the ATM, we headed to the metro.

We took the prior day's recommendation and trooped on over to the Gulbenkian Museum of Modern Art. It is free on Sundays (lucky for me, as I was still panicking about not having any money) and it was pretty cool. Much of the symbolism was over my head, but the stuff was fun to try and figure out. It's always bothered me that at modern art museums there is never an artist's explanation as to the meaning behind the pieces. Most of the pieces don't even have a title and the information cards simply say: "Untitled #42." Very unhelpful, if you ask me.

After we wandered through most of the Gulbenkian, we got back on the metro and went to the Expo Center, which is an area near the river with a lot of modern architecture and art displays that was built for the Expo '98. The Expo area also houses Lisboa's Oceanário, which we decided to visit. The museum sits out on the water and it is really quite large for an aquarium. There was one big center tank and lots of exhibits around the perimeter. My favorites were the penguins and the sea otters. Penguins are always spiffy and the sea otters were sleeping on their backs being just about as adorable as possible. One of the other coolest things we saw was this huge sunfish. I had never even heard of them before, but they are these huge fish that look like floating mattresses. They can weigh over 2 tons and their fins are too small to really do anything, so they just float around in the current. He was pretty nifty.

We spent almost 3 hours at the aquarium, and by the time we were done, we were hungry. We were in a pretty commercial area and hadn't seen any restaurants, so we headed back to the food court at the Vasco de Gama shopping center (a huge building in the expo area). We ended up splitting a pizza at Pizza Hut (don't judge - you have no idea how much I miss pizza) and then had to come up with a plan for what to do next. We had realized at some point during the last two days that the first pastry place in Belém the group ended up leaving was actually really famous. Only three people in the world know the recipe for the pastries and Samantha Brown went there with the Travel Channel. While no one else seemed bothered, Kevin and I were kicking ourselves for not having realized where we were at the time. So we decided to take the bus all the way back to Belém, just for the pastries, (I didn't need much convincing, although Kevin was a bit more hesitant). The bus ride took us a solid 45 minutes, and the line at Pasteis de Belém was out the door and around the block. The line was moving pretty quick, so it really didn't take very long to get to the counter. I ordered two of the famous little pastries (they're about three bites each) and one cinnamon muffin (I was overly thrilled about the muffin - I haven't even seen one yet in Madrid). The place goes on forever and there are about seven different dining rooms, but since all of the tables were full, Kevin and I took our pastries and ate outside near the Monasterio. Those pastries are good! Pasteis de Belém gives you a little packet of cinnamon and another of powdered sugar to sprinkle on top of your custardy pastry, so there was definitely a proper method of eating these. I hadn't quite mastered this method yet and ended up with powdered sugar all over my shirt. I then ate my muffin, which was also fantastic, and after taking some pictures of the monastery at night, we got back on the train and headed back downtown.

We had heard talk of an old neighborhood, Bairro Alto, where there were supposed to be a lot of eccentric little shops. We weren't sure where it was, but we had plenty of time to explore and just wandered in the general direction. We stopped to take pictures in a few plazas and also looked at the Santa Justa Elevator, a turn-of-the-century, eiffel-tower reminiscent, once-steam-powered scenic elevator. We didn't go up, as one has to pay to do that, but we took pictures from the ground, and then asked for directions to Bairro Alto. Of course, it was on top of what I would call a mountain. We were exhausted by the time we finished climbing, but there was a nice park with a great panoramic view of Lisboa at the top. By now, it was almost 8:30, so it was already dark and all of the shops were closed, so we headed back down the mountain/cliff to our hostel.

I stopped at the pastry shop near our hostel again, and got a slice of cinnamon cake with fruit glaze that would serve as dinner later. Then at the hostel, we splayed out on the couches in the TV room. There was a Canadian couple there who had just finished a pilgrimage walk across Spain, (some 780 km, they said) and we talked with them for a while about their trip. I decided 780 km might be a tad long for me, especially when there are no pastries involved.

Now, our flight was leaving early the next morning and we didn't want to pay the hostel for the night when we would only be sleeping there for a few hours before heading to the airport. Because of this, we had already checked out that morning and left our stuff in the security room. Our plan had been to come back to the hostel and watch movies in the common room until as late as possible and then just grab our stuff and go. We watched Cinderella Man first, for which I was mostly awake, and then I went to get The Devil Wears Prada. A woman from Argentina joined us for this one, but I fell asleep during the first scene. Kevin must have fallen asleep, too, because we woke up when his alarm went off at 4 am. We grabbed our stuff, (the hostel was very nice and didn't make us pay for sleeping on the couches) and got on the bus to the airport. We got off a stop early, but walked to the right terminal and a few hours later we landed in Madrid. We took our designated metros back to our homestays and put the lid on our trip to Lisboa!

Día Dos en Lisboa

(The Castelo dos Mouros in Sintra, Portugal)

Because I slept in the top bunk, the morning was a bit difficult. I am not at all coordinated when I first wake up and the last thing I want to do is attempt to crawl down a ladder. So while holding on the the ladder posts, I half-jumped, half-fell to the floor, and although I nearly knocked the fan over, no one seemed to wake up. I showered and got dressed and headed downstairs to check my e-mail. None of the BC kids were up yet, and I found out why when I turned on the computer. Lisboa is an hour behind Madrid, so while I set my phone alarm for 7:45, in Liboa, I woke up at 6:45. Wahoo. So I had more time on the computer than I thought, but I also had extra time for my eggs and toast. During breakfast, I sat with a girl named Lidia (a recent law school grad who is working as a lawyer in the Hague) who was in the room where I was originally booked. She said she didn't sleep at all because the rest of the room was occupied by rowdy Australians, so I was glad I ended up moving. We chatted for a while and she was really nice. She was traveling alone, so I invited her to join the BC group for our Fado dinner that night and she agreed.

Although the BC kids had planned on going to the flea market that morning, they didn't get downstairs until 11 am, at which point, we planned on taking a train to the highly-recommended town of Sintra. So the flea market got nixed and we all headed for the train station. Kevin and I ended up sitting next to a couple from Florida on the train who were traveling for 2 months around Spain and Portugal. The woman knew a lot about wine and art, saying her favorite wine was from Duro, a region in Portugal. I learned quite a bit about wine from just talking to her during the 45 minute trip. I'm not sure if I will ever need this knowledge, but it's good to have, just in case. She also recommended that we see the Museu Calouste Gulbenkian in Lisboa and the Museo Guggenheim in Bilbao.

We got off the train at Sintra and all the BC kids took the bus up a scarily-curvy-with-no-guard-rails type mountain road to the Castelo dos Mouros (or Moorish Castle). The castle ruins are perched on top of a mountain and from the turrets you can see all the way back to Lisboa. It was built in the 9th or 10th centuries by the Moors and has a lot of winding staircases and passageways. You climb about a billion stairs to go all the way around the perimeter, but the views are worth it. The mountain and short hike to the castle reminded me of upstate NY (minus the castle itself) and it was pleasant to take a stroll through the Nature of Portugal.

We then hiked back to the road where we waited for the bus that would take us to the Palácio Nacional de Pena, a 19th century palace on top of the next mountain over. After we waited for about half an hour, Pat went and asked how much longer the bus would take. The woman told him that there had been an accident on the scarily-treacherous road and that no traffic was coming through. So we walked, (it wasn't too far - although a lot of it was uphill) to the Palácio entrance, and then Kevin, Dan, and I walked up the path to the Palácio itself, while everyone else paid for the trolley ride.

The Palace was really nifty. It was built pretty recently, as far as Palaces go: 1842-1854, and in the Romantic style, which made it really surreal. The outside was yellow, purple, and red and the structure wasn't really classic architecture. It was a modern, yet still old-world palace that had great views from all directions. It was fun to explore and all the rooms were filled with fancy architecture and furniture. You could also walk through the kitchens and look at all the French chocolate pots - that's always fun, too. We ate lunch on the Palace balcony, (just sandwiches and ice cream from the cafe) where there were more cats. I do love cats.

We had planned to go look at the nearby caves, but the wait for the bus was too long, and we had to go right back to Sintra. We did have time to explore the city before heading to the train, so we split into groups to walk around. I went with Michi, Sean, Jack, Pat, and Jamie and we did some souvenir shopping and then stopped for chocolate crepes. As we were looking for a restaurant, Pat saw a little 3 year-old run out of a restaurant and into the busy road. He valiantly ran after the kid and saved him from what was about to be a very dangerous situation. He stormed into the restaurant and demanded to know who the parents were (this was his lifeguard training coming out in him). No one answered and Pat asked three times before a dad reading a newspaper looked up and said, "Oh, he's mine." All the little old ladies in the restaurant were shaking their heads. As the dad was fastening the little kid back into the stroller, the mom returned from the bathroom. Someone slept on the coach that night.

We got back back to Lisboa and found the Fado restaurant, A Baiúca, where we had reservations (albeit, somewhat slowly, as I was in charge of the map). The place was tiny, and there were 12 of us including Lidia. We crammed in around a table and looked at the menus. There were two set menus for about 30 euros each and an a-la-cart menu with entrees for about 20 euro. The minimum per person was 25 euros, (remember, 30 euros is $45). We knew this going in, and we had convinced ourselves to fork over the money, as it was dinner, a show, and an authentic cultural experience. I ordered a set menu which included: bread, cheese, olives, a liter of water, potato and cabbage soup, cod bacalhau, and dessert. Everything was great. The appetizers were good - who doesn't like bread and cheese? The soup was tasty and the cod bacalhau is a classic Portuguese dish. It is ground up salted cod mixed together with vegetables and breaded goodness to make a kind of stuffing. I would highly recommend it. For dessert I had chocolate mousse, which was also quite delectable. The Fado itself is a kind of Portuguese folk music that involves voice and guitar. It is very animated and passionate and there were a variety of different singers, some who just popped in off the street. One of the main singers was the owner of the restaurant and even the cooks would burst out in song every once in a while. The restaurant was so small that they just stood in the middle of the restaurant and turned in circles. It was very cool and very authentic and people were outside in the streets just listening. The cooks made the food while we were there and served the different courses to all the customers at the same time. The kitchen was so close, that you could smell everything being made. We were there for about 4.5 hours, so I think it was definitely worth the money.

Unfortunately, while I opted for the liter of water, the other menu option was a liter of wine, and all of my friends understandably chose that. The problem was that a liter of wine each really increased their volumes rather dramatically. Jamie was also receiving on-play texts from his parents about the BC vs. ND football game back home, so that didn't help the situation at all. They got shushed quite a bit.

After the bill of 340 euros was paid by all of us poor college students, we wandered back to our hostel and crashed. I remembered to set my alarm correctly this time, which was even more complicated, as I needed to account for Daylight Savings. But as soon as I hit "set," I was out.

Día Uno en Lisboa

(A view from the Castelo de Sao Jorge in Lisboa, Portugal)

I'm back and it's good to be home! Lisbon was great, but there is much to be done as internship applications need to be started, classes must be registered for, and homework must be, at least, considered.

But Lisbon! My friend, Kevin, and I slept in the airport on Thursday night, which is not fun and not particularly recommended. It would have been fine if we had chairs or something, but there was only floor. Cold tiled floor. I woke up several times shivering and/or with various parts of me completely asleep. At one point, I woke up and my whole right side wasn't functioning. But after a solid hour of sleep or so, we got in line to run our stuff through security. The security is much easier than in the US, and we were through in about 10 minutes. We then met up with another BC student, Dan, who we hadn't known was coming. Apparently instead of spending the night on the airport floor, he took a night bus, which would have been really convenient had we known about it. But either way, we got on the plane to Portugal and within an hour, landed in Lisboa. There were no signs for the bus we needed to take to our hostel, so we wandered in search of the airport's bus stop. We were about to cross the highway when we saw a stop behind us, so we doubled back, and managed to catch the next bus. After a 45 minute bus-ride through Lisboa, we were dropped off at a plaza and walked down Rua Augusta to our hostel, The Traveller's House.

This hostel was great. They had a living room, a movie watching room full of DVDs, an internet room with four computers guests could use for free, a dining room, and a kitchen. Breakfast was included, and you could get an endless supply of freshly made scrambled eggs, toast, cereal, coffees and juices. The bedrooms and bathrooms were really nice and clean and it is in a nice section of Lisboa. There were bookcases of both travel books and novels and the employees were the greatest. They will plan your trip for you, make your reservations, suggest the best/cheapest places, and provide you with various maps and sets of directions. All for 15 euros a night. Not bad at all.

So we dropped off our stuff and met up with the rest of the group that had arrived the night before, (there were 11 of us all together). Our first itinerary item was a walk to the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Saint George's Castle, in Portuguese) a big castle on an even bigger hill. We walked almost a full loop around the Castle before we found the entrance, passing through a quaint little neighborhood complete with three wandering peacocks. We then looked at all the scenic overviews of the city (the hill you climb is quite large) and explored the inside of the castle. You could even walk around and between the turrets, which I thought was pretty nifty. There were lots of children and cats at the Castle (the children because of a school trip, the cats because they are everywhere in Europe).

We then headed back down the hill to the Sé Catedral, and walked to Rua dos Bacalhoeiros for lunch. I ordered a sausage and egg item (the menu was in Portuguese, so I didn't understand much else) but it was really good. It was a fried egg on top of some sort of meat patty. It tasted more like a veggie-burger than meat, and had a similar texture, but I liked it a lot. But beware, the "free" appetizers they give you in Lisbon (like bread, cheese, or any fried item) will cost you, and probably a lot. Our group of 12 racked up an extra 26 euros in appetizers which they give you without your asking. There is a similar strategy in Spain, but none of us had ever been charged that much for bread.

After reluctantly forking over the money for the bill, we all caught a tram that took us to the neighborhood of Belém, which is right on the Tagus River. We first looked at the Padráo dos Descobrimentos, a monument built to honor Portugal's explorers and the area from which they set sail. We then walked down the street to the Torré de Belém, an old tower out on the water that used to serve as a prison. You can climb to the top of both of these places were you will find some pretty nice views of the city and the river. You can also see the Cristo-Rei, a huge statue of Jesus that overlooks Lisboa. After the threatening rain forced us off of the towers, we crossed the highway to the Monasterio de los Jerónimos, a huge church and monastery built in the 16th century. This is my favorite church since being abroad, and we were lucky, because the organist was practicing while we were there. It was very elegant and stately, as was the rest of the claustro, and after the monastery closed, we looked through the attached Anthropology Museum. The museum was very small and only took a half and hour, but the displays were nice. My favorite was the Egyptian display, which, although smelly (those mummies don't really have a nice odor to them), was pretty interesting, and a change from the rest of museums we've seen.

We then headed back into Belém and stopped quickly at a pastry shop to try the famous Pasteis de Belém (egg, cinnamon, and sugar pastries). Deterred by the line at the first place, we went to one across the street, and those pastries are good! Portuguese people are also very nice, and the man who owned the shop was very friendly.

We were told to speak English while in Portugal, as the Portuguese aren't exactly fans of the Spaniards. They always feel less popular and unfairly compared to Spaniards, and there is a undercurrent of competition between the two countries. But while most Portuguese people speak English perfectly well, if you need to speak Spanish, they will probably understand you. I also found that I understand Spanish better when it is spoken by a Portuguese person. Unlike the Spaniards, the Portuguese are very good at enunciating, which makes a world of difference when someone is speaking to you. I also found that I understand a good deal of Portuguese itself. It sounds like a mix of Spanish, French, and German, but at times, I felt like I understood more of Portuguese than I do of Spanish. There's a conundrum for you.

So after pastries, we all got back on the tram and regrouped at the hostel. We booked a Fado (Portuguese folk music) dinner/show for the next night with Miguel's (one of the owners of the hostel) help, and then headed to Rua das Portas de Santo Antáo for dinner. We thought we had a restaurant all picked out, but it turned out to be quite expensive, so we found another, cheaper restaurant on the same street. For some reason, I had terribly annoying shin splints and my back was throbbing like crazy, but I popped some Motrin and felt much better. I had kabobs for dinner, which weren't very good at all, but it was nice to sit outside and people-watch through dinner. The street was busy at night and we had to ward off the street vendors that would come right up to the table and push whatever they were selling right in your face (and whatever they were selling usually made some kind of annoying noise, which when pushed so close to your face was quite loud).

After dinner we walked back to the hostel, stopping at another pastry place right next door. This place was amazing. The pastries were huge and delicious, and most things costed less than a euro. I got some sort of sugar item coated in more sugar, which was simply fantastic and paid only 0.80 euro cents for it. We then pretty much passed out in the hostel. I ended up being able to sleep in the same room as the rest of the BC kids, as two of them slept in the same bed, and there was, therefore, one bed open. I was exhausted after having slept only a total of 4 hours in two days (1 of which was on an airport floor), so I fell asleep right away, with a whole lot of sugar inside of me.

La Tormenta de Viento

(A giant squid at El Museo de Ciencias Naturales in Madrid, Spain)

I woke up this morning to what I thought was a hurricane knocking down Julia's building. The storm was so loud that the windows were shaking. I rolled out of bed to look (you know it's bad if I roll out of bed to do anything), but it was dark and I didn't have my glasses on, so I couldn't see anything. I grabbed my glasses, but all I could make out were trees whipping around in the park next door. I wondered why no one else was panicking. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that it wasn't even raining, which I thought was weird, because the thunder was scarily intense. Then my brain started to work, and I figured out what was happening. Julia lives on the 9th floor of a building that is next door to a park. Because of the park, there are no buildings on to my side of the apartment. This means that the wind is free to whip against my window as it so chooses. Apparently, it chooses to whip against my window quite vigorously. What I thought was thunder was actually just the wind. So no need to panic, I decided. I crawled back into bed, only to have my alarm clock go off ten minutes later.

So I woke up, finished an economics reading, took a brief nap, then took a shower and got dressed. I had breakfast and chatted with Baquita, then was off to run some errands. I went to Barclay's to cash my Morocco partial-reimbursement from BC (I waited until the exchange rate went up, so I made a tidy $15 profit), but the Barclay's lady said she didn't have access to the cash today, but that there was another Barclay's a few blocks down that did. Fine, I thought, as I looked forward to wandering around in the windstorm looking for the other Barclay's. I stopped first at the closest papeleria, where I needed to get some school supplies, but they didn't have colored paper, so I thought, maybe one of the grocery stores will. I looked at a map and wandered towards where the second Barclay's was supposed to be. Luckily for me, it was actually there, so I tried to let myself in. Of course, this Barclay's has a complicated door system, as well, and it is different than the one that attacked my thumb. A man was yelling directions to me from inside, but I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying (apparently, I should brush up on my door-entering vocabulary), so I shouted back that I barely speak Spanish, and he shut off the door system to let me in. He didn't seem pleased about it, but he did cash my check, and I managed to let myself out without problems.

Then I looped around to one of the neighborhood grocery stores, didn't see any colored paper, and went to another down the street. They didn't have any colored paper either, but they did have a wall of chocolate. I stopped to gawk, and after about 5 minutes of my staring at the wall, a bunch of business people came out and started taking pictures of the display. This rudely interrupted the gawking process. Since they were standing between me and the chocolate, I decided to loop around the store, and then come back, hoping that by that time, they would be gone. Of course, they weren't, and then I felt silly having come back to gawk a second time. So I grabbed a promising looking pack of assorted chocolates and checked out. Someday when I am a business woman taking pictures of chocolate displays, I will know not to bring all my friends with me and interrupt everyone's shopping processes (indiscriminate of how prolonged their shopping processes are).

I stopped at a sketchy papeleria on the way back to Julia's, but did find colored paper there, so mission accomplished, I headed home. I spent the morning working on art projects and eating my Socado chocolates. They are good. Really good. As a semi-professional chocolate aficionado, I rate these chocolates very high on the all-time records list, so I will probably be visiting that grocery store again, despite it's annoying chocolate photographers.

I then had Spanish class, (which was as scintillating as always) and stopped at Nuevos Ministerios on the way home. Lizzie said there was a post office in the Corte Ingles there, and I had to mail my letters to the Countess (I have two addresses, therefore she is getting two letters). Yes, that's right folks, they have officially been sent. I went up to the mail lady and said in perfect Spanish,"I would like to send these letters, please." She replied, "You're in the wrong section. The post office is around the corner." Turns out she was the customer service representative, not the mail lady. Undeterred, I rounded the corner and waited in the real mail line, repeated my brilliant statement, and sent my letters. The Countess should be getting them any day now.

I made it home just as Julia was heading out. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Out," she replied. I had dinner alone, as she hasn't come back yet, but I should probably take a nap now, as at 12:30, I will be heading to the airport. My friend, Kevin, and I are on the same flight that leaves tomorrow morning at 6:55 am. Unfortunately, we need to check in before the metro opens, and rather than pay for a taxi, we are going to sleep at the airport. This will be good practice for when we sleep at the airport in Lisbon on Sunday night (we have an early flight on Monday morning and don't want to pay the for the taxi or for the extra night at the hostel). Julia nearly had a conniption when I told her where I would be spending the night (although she still didn't offer to give me a ride to the airport in the morning) and Baquita said this is when having a big, strong, Spanish boyfriend comes in handy. I said Kevin would have to do.

I'll talk to you in a few days!

¿Dónde Están Las Galletas?

(A statue of the Hindu god Ganesha, on display at the MNA)

Today is Wednesday, which means I was sitting in a classroom before the sun came out. I was decently awake, perhaps because I had to sit sideways at the desks which seemed to be made for midgets. Class was held in a different room than usual and I have never before seen desks like this. Both the desk's seat and table fold down, but because of the way it was built (for midgets), you have to sit before pulling down the table or else you will get stuck in an awkward position between sitting and standing. It was funny watching everyone fight the desks with their eyes sleepily half-closed, and hopefully next week, we move back to our normal classroom with human-sized desks.

The next class was an endurance effort and after 2 hours of Spanish lecture, my head was bobbing just as much as everyone else's. But then it was lunch-time, which always perks me up. I had beef stew, which was quite tasty and a pastry I bought from the cafeteria. The pastry was decent, but still not the chocolate-chip cookie I have been craving for nearly 2 months now. Spain is in a really sorry state when it comes to cookies, as what they call cookies are really crackers. I have searched Madrid high and low for a cookie to no avail, and at this point, Lisbon may be evaluated based on its cookie-availability.

After Spanish class, I met with my intercambio, Jennifer. This week was in Spanish, and I was exhausted at the end of our hour-and-a-half, but we have plans to go out to dinner next week, so I'm excited about that. I was telling her all my stories about Julia, and she told me a pretty exciting story as well. Her great-grandmother was a Spanish Countess (why are there so many of those running around over here?) who had an affair with a monk. Yes, a monk. Her grandfather was had out of wedlock and grew up in an orphanage. They told him when he was older who his parents were and if he wanted to accept them legally. He said no, but now he has an awesome story to pass on to future generations. "Once upon a time when Great-Grandma went to church. . ."

My last class of the day was economics, were we talked about our final, which the Professor has decided will be oral. Great. We have a 7 - 10 minute "chat" with the professor which will determine 50% of our final grade. That's a lot of percentage per minute. He said he likes oral exams because students can't just memorize facts. This did not please me, as I am a memorizing queen, and can spit out textbook facts like nobody's business. We'll see how this one goes.

I got back to Julia's and was waiting around for her to return for dinner. I was listening to the wind whistling outside (and through, in my opinion) the window, and shivering, as today was the really cold and rainy. Julia called my phone, but fortunately, I understood must of what she was saying, which involved my eating dinner whenever I felt like it as she was eating with her family. That was a first, and saved me a solid 45 minutes of Spanish dinner conversation.

Tomorrow I have quite a few errands to run before I leave for Lisboa on Friday morning, so I plan on waking up early and being productive. We'll see how that goes.

Un Príncipe

(El Monasterio de San Juan de los Reyes in Toledo, Spain)

Today I met a prince. Officially. He is only 8 months old and it was naptime, but I looked at him and he looked at me, and there were no tears on either part, so I'm calling it a success. I brilliantly uttered something resembling baby-talk in Spanglish, which I'm sure impressed the adults in the room, but he didn't say anything too clever either, so it's okay.

I had come home from classes when I saw Julia pushing a baby stroller around the living room. I then noticed that there was a very large baby in the aforementioned stroller (the prince is rather large for his age, it seems). I veered into the living room, and Julia said to be quiet as it was naptime, but she seemed to be in a good mood and let me get a closer look. I saw a women on the couch, and at first, I thought it was Princess Maria, but it was Julia's sister, Marta, the Pricess' mother. We chatted for a bit, and she seemed nice. Fortunately, I understood everything she said.

Then I went to put my stuff down in my room, and couldn't decide whether to go back out, because Marta was reading and Julia was trying to put Prince Francesco to sleep. After an emergency-advice call to Lizzie, I wandered back out, but Marta was packing up the Prince to leave (he was really upset about having to put on a coat). We chatted a little more and then they were off. The whole ordeal was unexpected and rather exciting.

I've since been trying to get ahead on reading so I'm homework-free for Lisbon this weekend. Julia came back for dinner and even offered me flan. This is the first dessert I've seen in the house since I've arrived. Because it was half-eaten, I figured it had something to do with the Prince's visit.

It poured a few minutes ago, which is the first time it's really rained since I've been in Madrid. All today, it was very blustery, but I've always liked this weather as it is mysterious and very poetic. Anything can happen (like meeting a prince)!

Another fun tidbit: Baquita and I were having a heart-to-heart yesterday in the kitchen during breakfast. She got excited about something, closed all the doors, and came over to tell me a secret. Turns out, Julia's father was a minister under Franco. I think this explains a lot about her lifestyle and personality - it's the old-money/dictatorship in her. Baquita also told me that Julia divorced her husband, whose father was also a minister under Franco. Very interesting.

In addition to meeting princes and living in a social circle that's way over my head, things are just peachy. Classes are running smoothly, friends are drama-free, and my cold is getting better. Life's looking pretty good.

¡Más fotografías!

I've uploaded the Toledo pictures and my pictures from Madrid so far this month onto the Shutterfly site.

Here's the link: http://gigiinmadrid.shutterfly.com

Enjoy!

Un Día de Historia

(The Atocha Train Station in Madrid, Spain)

This morning I woke up early-ish and headed on over to the National Museum of Anthropology here in Madrid. It was quite interesting. There were three floors and each one was dedicated to Asia, Africa, or the Americas. All the exhibits were really well laid out and I had a good time trying to decode the item descriptions. I could pick out most of the words, but for the descriptions where I couldn't, I would let my imagination fill in the blanks, which always makes things more fun. Warning: the doors in this museum are very heavy and don't open easily, so don't just go walking into them, because you'll bounce right off to the stares of everyone standing around you (personal experience).

While I was at the museum, looking at a model of a South American home, my phone started vibrating in my purse. I dug around trying to find it and whipped it out just in time to see a missed call from Julia. I froze. Do I call her back? What does she want? I left a note on the table before I left. I can't talk on the phone in Spanish - I don't even talk on the phone in English! I won't understand a thing! I can't not call her back. Before I regained enough circulation to make a rational decision, Julia called again. I answered, "Hello? Oh wait, I mean, ¿Hola?" She babbled something about my not needing to be on time for lunch, because she was spending the day with her family (I heard the words: don't, need, return, lunch, I, family - and filled in the rest) Then I heard the words: prepared, table, goodbye - and she hung up. I figured she said that my lunch was waiting on the kitchen table, so whenever I got home I could eat. You can see from my method of processing information that a lot can get lost in translation.

Relieved that my telephone conversation was completed, I finished the museum and crossed the street to the Atocha metro/train station. There are some tropical gardens inside, so I took a look at that and then caught a train home. I've never had to take a train outside of the usual one for school, so of course, there was a point when I thought I was lost. Fortunately, I wasn't lost and made it home in one try. I then finished my homework and read some Harry Potter.

Julia came home for dinner and we talked about her brother, who has just come back from a month-long safari in Africa. Then, after we talked about African movies, I mentioned that I had looked at her family pictures in the living room (I am completely allowed in there and the pictures are on display, so no worries). I said it was interesting to see the people she's always talking about, but that I can't guess who everyone is. I suggested that sometime, we should look at them together. Her response: "A person's family is an intimate matter."

So I guess that's not going to happen. But she did get me the Countess' address when I reminded her. I think it's a fake. It has no numbers and Google doesn't recognize it. That's never a good sign. I might ask her about it again tomorrow. If I've worked up the courage.

Su Alteza Real

(Plasterwork outside the Mausoleum in Rabat, Morocco)

Julia went out right before lunch today and said to eat whenever I wanted, so this time, I took the hint, and ate right away. She had left out beef stew, which was really good, and it was nice to just be able to read while I ate. Once late afternoon hit, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood and looked up where the closest grocery stores are - where else would I walk to? I found one and headed on over. Grocery stores are wonderful - I wandered the aisles just looking at all the different foods (the crackers that they pretend are cookies, the hot dogs in jars, the eggs that they keep on un-refrigerated shelves). I think a security guard was following me, as I was looking awfully suspicious just standing in aisles looking at things. They don't seem to do such things in Spain. Come to think of it, maybe they don't do such things in America, either. . .

So I found myself looking for Nutella, which, for some reason, wasn't there, and I was crouching on the floor deciding whether I should get an all chocolate spread or a swirled chocolate and almond spread. I had been there for a while and was holding one jar in each hand. My nose was sniffly and then the song "Everybody Hurts" came on the sound system. I pitied myself for a moment there. So I quickly decided the chocolate and almond spread would do and headed over the cashier. Afterwards I wandered the area some more, found a couple of potential restaurants, and then headed back to Julia's.

Here's where it starts to get good. Julia came back at about 9 and we sat down for dinner. I asked where she had been all day and she said she had been at the anti-abortion demonstration in downtown Madrid (over 1 million people showed up - it was on the news and everything) and then went to the airport. I asked her why she went to the airport and she said that her niece and her niece's husband and son were flying in from Italy. I've heard talk of this niece - she's Alexandra's sister, recently got married, recently had a baby, and now lives in Italy. So I asked Julia how old her grand-nephew is, and she replied, only 8 months. So here's how the conversation went:

I asked, "What's his name?"

She replied, "Principe Francesco."

I thought that was cute and said, "Aw, like all little boys,"

She responded, "No, that's his actual name."

Me: "He's a prince?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "So his mother. . . is a princess?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "Was she a princess before or after she got married?" (I needed to see if there were any queens in the family)

Julia: "After. She married a prince."

I then asked, "Where is she the princess of?"

Then I thought she misunderstood me and instead responded with her name: "Cecilia,"

I said, (trying to get some brownie points): "My confirmation name is Cecilia,"

She said, "What?"

I said, "Wait, what is Cecilia?"

Julia: "An island near Italy"

Me: "Oh, you said Sicily. . ."

Turns out, Sicily and Cecilia sound awfully similar in Spanish. Here's how that last part would have gone if I spoke Spanish:

Me: "Where is she the princess of?"

Julia: "Sicily"

Me: "Really? I've heard of that island that has nothing to do with my confirmation name,"

Julia: "Have you? It's just beautiful there,"

Me: "Yes, quite charming, I hope to buy a palace there one day,"

So we continued to talk about her family (the whole family has a Spanish title, apparently) and I remembered that she had said a few weeks ago that I should meet her 8-month-old grand-nephew (who I know now to be the Prince of Sicily). I really wish babies didn't scream when they came near me - I wouldn't want to upset a Royal Highness, even a small one.

Other fun tidbits I learned about Julia: her sister is friends with my Countess' sons and tomorrow Julia's asking her sister for the Countess' address!! Also, her sister used to be best friends with Jackie Kennedy. The Jackie Kennedy. Julia says the Kennedys are very down-to-earth. Good to know. I suppose I could do worse than marrying a Kennedy. . .

Demasiadas Comidas

(La Plaza de las Ventas in Madrid, Spain)

Today consisted of homework and lots of it. The problem is that it's all in Spanish, and that really slows me down.

But, per usual, I took regular food breaks, and Baquita and I chatted quite a bit in the kitchen. We discussed her family and the weather and most importantly her past jobs. Turns out, she used to work for a Count. Yes, folks, mention #2 of a Count in this house. I doubt this Count will want to meet a friend of his former maid, but she did tell me where he lives, so I could always practice my stalking skills. . .

Then as Baquita was heating up my lunch in the microwave, Julia walked in, and noticed that there wasn't a plastic cover on the plate. She got upset and then started in on Baquita for why she wasn't using the plastic lid and why the food was already cold. When she left, Baquita rolled her eyes. I saw it clear as day. I laughed and then Baquita giggled and she went on about Julia for a couple of minutes. She even told me that she was working for another family 3 nights a week, (but that I couldn't tell Julia, as Julia most certainly wouldn't be pleased about that). I officially have an ally in the house.

My lunch was a stew of lentils, chorizo, and what I think was some kind of intestines. I asked Baquita what they were and she said, "Don't worry - just eat them," which only added to my concern. I suppose they weren't bad, as far as intestines go. Afterwards, I headed towards La Plaza de las Ventas for a cooking class organized by the BC program. Lizzie, Matt, James, and I all met up at a señora's house and she showed us how to make paella, tortilla española, and sangria. It was great - like live Food Network - and then we got to eat everything at the end. The señora, Cristina, lives with her two sons, her mother, and two American exchange students, and said that she spends almost all day in the kitchen making food for everyone. She was really friendly and her apartment and kitchen were really nice, (although we did eat off of what I now know are appetizer plates, so Julia wouldn't have approved). After we were stuffed, we ambled back to the metro and went home. Of course, dinner was waiting for me when I got back home, and since I've learned to avoid sudden schedule changes around Julia, I ate that, too (a piece of salmon as big as my head and potatoes). 3 full meals within 8 hours - now I'm really stuffed.

Other tidbit: Julia is still asking me if I have the swine flu, so I looked up swine flu symptoms today. I have 7 of 8. The only one I don't have is loss of appetite, but I can't even imagine a sickness that would make me want to stop eating! So I suppose if I don't feel better soon, I better hop on over to el medico. Good times.

¿Una Naranja, Cómo?

(A fountain in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday was long - I had 4 classes, 2 intercambio meetings, and over 3 hours in transportation. The classes were fine - I was awake and actually understanding things, and the intercambios were really good, too. The first meeting was with my new intercambio student, Ivy (from Bulgaria). Today was our Spanish week, so we had lunch and pieced together about an hour and half of conversation. Next week will be our English-speaking week, and she says she's nervous because my Spanish is better than her English. I think she's lying, but you never know. My second intercambio was with Jennifer (from Spain), and since we met in Spanish last week, this week was in English (the conversations are much better on the English-speaking weeks, I've found. . .). We chatted for almost 2 hours and she said we should start meeting at restaurants and museums and such, so we can see more of Madrid. I liked that idea, so I hope that happens.

Then it was back to dinner at Julia's. I had croquettes and pasta (carb-heaven!) while she had two different kinds of vegetables along with her liquified dinner. I think Baquita probably makes one kind of vegetable for me and one kind for Julia, but Julia's been eating them both. I would really like to eat at least one vegetable in the next 2 months, but I'm not sure how to approach this subject. I will work on formulating a strategy.

The conversation was better yesterday, too. I got her talking about art history, which is one of her favorite subjects, and then I brought up the subject of Christmas traditions in Spain, (Christmas is in a little over 2 months - the countdown has begun). She says she doesn't decorate very much (as that is a meager pagan tradition) but did provide at least one sliver of hope in that the traditional Christmas dessert is turron (a Spanish nougat cookie-type delectability). Because I will be severely missing the Christmas cookie tradition, I will have to appease myself somehow.

Today I woke up with a cold. Everything is sore and my nose is not being cooperative. I think I had a fever and I almost passed out this morning, (probably because of my lack of proper vegetable-vitamins). But I had my Spanish class today and made it there and back in one piece. Every time you blow your nose in Spain, someone freaks out because they think you have "Gripe A" (swine flu). They will take two steps back and stare you down as they interrogate you about your symptoms. No one has sent me to a hospital yet, so I think I'm still doing okay.

After class, I went to the library and got Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal. I'm reading the Spanish and English versions at the same time, and hopefully will pick up something that way. I also looked through the movies again. I downloaded an application on my computer last week that is supposed to play the European Region 2 DVDs, but so far only movies with Jude Law have worked. I'm not sure why that is, but I might be watching The Holiday and Sky Captain until I have them memorized.

For dinner, I had chicken (this time she had told Baquita to remove the meat from the bone, to prevent my barbaric habits) and purée of potatoes. She also made me eat an orange to get my Vitamina C. She gave me an orange on a plate with a knife and a fork, so that I could cut the orange segments into bite-sized pieces. I told her that people in the US would laugh at me if they saw me cutting my orange with a knife and fork. She replied that Superior Gabrielle knew how to eat an orange properly. I responded, (to myself) that Superior Gabrielle must be an interesting character.

Una Conversación Fantástica

(Marzipan on display in Toledo, Spain)

Today was pretty uneventful. I had Historia del Presente this morning, during which I was dangerously close to being asleep, then I had lunch with Lizzie. Afterwards, I sat in the library, where I almost fell asleep sitting in the comfy chairs, so I moved to a different chair where I also proceeded to fall asleep. I then walked to Spanish, which for some reason I thought started at 2 (it starts at 2:30, always has, always will) so I fell asleep in the hall, too. I'm not really sure why I was so tired today - I slept for about 12 hours yesterday. . .

When I got back to Julia's, I went for a run. I managed to avoid getting lost (quite the accomplishment) and, afterwards, even climbed the stairs to her apartment instead of taking the elevator. I had meatballs and rice for dinner (I haven't seen a vegetable in a month) and Julia really helped the conversation along (not really). Examples:

Me: "It was chilly this morning, I should have brought my jacket to school,"

Julia: "It's not cold at all - I had the fan on all day,"

Me: "My mom sent me pictures of home - the trees are pretty colors right now,"

Julia: "I saw a movie about NY once, it's nicer here,"

Me: "You said your niece works on an olive farm? That must be hard work,"

Julia: "It's not hard work - there are more difficult jobs,"

Julia: "What do you want to bring for lunch tomorrow?"

Me: "I think I'll bring the tortilla and chicken"

Julia: "Don't you like the meatballs?"

Me: "I do like them, but they're messy for lunch. The sauce leaks into my bag"

Julia: "No, no, you're wrong. They're not messy,"

Me (thinking): Well then, why did they leak into my bag?

After I get frustrated with her telling me I'm wrong several times in a row, (it's a well known fact that the quickest way to get me upset is to tell me I'm wrong about something) I generally revert to silence. She concludes that I'm tired and dismisses me to my room. Oh, the joys of living with Julia. And yes, I'm paying a great deal of money for this.

I think I'm going to go to bed early tonight. Wednesdays are long and start early, and I do despise waking up before it's light out. ¡Buenas noches!

El Día de la Hispanidad

(The military goat in Madrid, Spain)

Today was wonderfully lazy. I got up early for the parade, because I wanted to get a spot somewhat close to the road. I thought the parade started at 10, so I got there at about 9:15. Turns out the parade started at 11, so I got there really early and I had quite a bit of waiting to do. I tried to walk down towards Santiago Bernabeu, but there were all these blockades up. Julia told me later that that was because the President and Royal Family chill out at Santiago Bernabeu. If I had known this while was there, I would have tried harder to get closer.

The parade was an hour, and really interesting. It was officially a military parade, and all the tanks, planes, and divisions were involved. There were parachuters that landed on the street, tanks moving a lot faster than I though tanks could, and troops swinging their arms enough to give me tendonitis. It was like those parades you see on TV, where the country parades it's bazookas and missiles down the street. It was fun to see all the different uniforms, though. There was one division in wetsuits, one with capes, and one all decked out in skiing gear. There was also a goat. I asked Julia what the goat was about and she said it was the mascot of either the current political party or the military (my Spanish was cutting in and out). The goat was my favorite part.

Then after a quick detour to buy toothpaste, I headed back to Julia's for some leisurely hours of life management, as I call it. This is when I check and actually get to answer e-mails, look at internships, take care of the less important Post-It note items, etc. Then we had lunch and I found out that Julia had a pilot's license when she was younger and was married, too. She's never broached either of these subjects before, so I was intrigued. We talked a lot about the plane she owned (yes, she was rich enough to buy a plane in her 20s) - a Skymaster II, and I also asked her about her husband. His name was Gabriel and they were married for 21 years. She didn't say much more than that, I didn't want to be too nosy, so that's all I know.

Then I prepped myself for an afternoon of movies. I popped one in, but after half an hour, I was asleep. I woke up and couldn't tell whether it was sunset or sunrise, so I panicked and thought I would be late for class. It was 8 pm, so I wasn't late for class yet, but Julia was calling me for dinner. I stumbled out of my room and into the light, muttering something incoherent in Spanish. I had croquettes and rice, which were good, and we chatted about all of the vacations we've ever taken. She's taken more than me.

Now I'm about to attempt another movie, but I think I better set my alarm first.

La Corrida del Toros

(La Plaza de Las Ventas in Madrid, Spain)

This morning I dragged myself out of bed because I wanted to go to mass in a different church (seeing as Madrid has over 200). I picked La Parroquia de San Pedro, which is the second oldest church in Madrid and near El Palacio Royal and El Rastro (so if I couldn't find it, there was always shopping as a back-up plan). The mass times weren't listed on the internet, so I got there by 10:30, and turns out they had only one mass at noon. So I explored. I walked around for a while before I realized that I had been there before (on the first day's bus tour). I walked through the winding streets of the surrounding neighborhood and stopped at a bakery, La Iglesia Catedral de Las Fuerzas Armas de España (another pretty church), and the gardens near El Palacio Real. I got back to San Pedro in time for the 25-minute mass (they really whip right through them here) and despite understanding hardly anything besides, "La Paz," it was nice to have a change of scenery.

I then walked back to the metro and headed back to Julia's. I had time to finish my homework before lunch, so I was pleased, although Julia came in and asked me why I needed to use my light if the window was already open ("Because it is too dark with just the window," I responded - I refuse to sit in the dark). We then sat down for lunch (chicken and rice) and she called me a barbarian. Not even kidding. Apparently, to a super-traditional Spaniard like Julia, it is barbaric to eat with your fork in your right hand and put down your knife when you're not cutting something (Europeans eat with the fork in the left and the knife in the right, never putting either down). Although I will admit that I was struggling with my chicken a bit, it was nowhere near grounds for calling me a barbarian. Hmpf! She then said that I must be tired because I wasn't understanding her Spanish well. We had to resort to looking up a word in my dictionary. Turns out it wasn't even there - so I didn't feel so bad about not knowing it.

Then I had to leave for the bullfight. Ugh. All the BC kids are given tickets, and our advisor recommends we go, so at least we have an informed opinion of La Corrida Del Toros. There were a lot of people there and I will say that there is a lot of tradition involved. The plaza was pretty and I really liked the matadors' outfits (rumored to be designed by Armani). They were very sparkly and glittered in the lights. How it worked: there were three matadors (who each had a team of three helpers who would also flag down the bulls) who each had two turns in the ring. I believe that they get points for the various moves they do and each bullfight lasts for about 20 minutes. Altogether, La Corrida is about 2 hours and they go through 6 bulls. It was awful. Awful. The first poor bull didn't even want to fight. It just stood in the corner and they all had to gang up on it to make it move. Then they just stab it full of swords and daggers and who knows what else. When the bull started to turn on them, they would just hide behind these wooden slats until the bull ran away again. I watched the first bullfight for experience, started to cry, and then just read my book for the rest of it. My informed opinion is that La Corrida del Toros is a chance for a bunch of machismo men with Napoleonic complexes to show off and kill poor innocent baby bulls that don't really have a chance at all. It is horrid and antiquated and awful. I don't even have that many pictures because I felt guilty taking pictures of such an atrocity.

Beside John Grisham, the only thing that got me through La Corrida was the thought that Lizzie and I were going out for Korean food afterwards. We found a restaurant in our neighborhood and it was fantastic. At first we were the only ones there, but I don't see why, because the food was great. Lizzie got a sort of spicy tofu and cabbage soup and I got a rice, vegetable, and chicken dish. The soup was really good and I really liked my rice dish, although Lizzie said it wasn't the right Korean spices. My dish came in a "hot-pot" that changes the texture of the rice, which is stickier than Chinese rice to begin with. There were all sorts of tasty vegetables that I couldn't identify, and seaweed, too, and boy, was it good. Lizzie then ordered another dish that she was craving - they were thick noodles (think gnocchi) made of rice. Real tasty. The restaurant also gave us a tofu and seaweed dish on the house, as well as two shots of hot sake (I had a sip - tasted like white wine). I liked the rice noodles better. We ate a lot (especially with all the free food they kept bringing us) but it was so nice to have a change of flavors from the traditional Spanish cuisine. We got the bill and it was 20 euros each - it wasn't until later I realized that I spent over $30 on dinner - oops. But so worth it.

Tomorrow is a festival day in Spain - so no classes! There is a big parade that goes down Paseo de Castellana. I've seen commercials on TV all week and it looks pretty intense - I'll have to get there pretty early if I want to see anything. Right now, I'm watching a documentary about all these different dancing styles in Spain, and I'm actually half understanding it. I might even turn on The Holiday in Spanish.

Viaje a Toledo

(The Río Tagus in Toledo, Spain)

Yesterday I headed out early to meet the rest of the BC kids for our trip to Toledo. I met Lizzie and Jeff first and after they stopped for coffee, we all got on the bus. I had been talking to Katherine, a young BC alum who now teaches English classes in Madrid, and as we were getting on the bus, the director, Ana, told her to sit next to me and speak in Spanish. I didn't mind the practice, so we chatted on the bus ride down. But then we ended up hanging out all day, and since she would only speak to me in Spanish, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time the trip was over.

But Toledo was really nice. As it was a class trip, we got a lot of explanation as to the architecture, artwork, geography, and history of the city (all in Spanish, of course). We strolled around taking lots of notes (much like with the monkeys in Jungle Book - the newer version, if anyone gets the reference) and will have to write an essay about Toledo for the class. We first stopped at a panoramic view of the city ("it is protected by both a river and mountains") and then drove to the Mezquita del Cristo de la Luz ("a mosque with the classic Arabic ladrillos and herradura arches"). After walking through the Puerta del Sol and the Plaza de Zocodover (where we learned that Toledo is famous for it's gold, silver, and marzipan - guess which one I was most excited about), we visited La Catedral de Toledo ("a classic example of Gothic architecture"). The cathedral was gigantic and really pretty. It was designed to let light in and draw the eye towards the ceiling (and Heaven), and had really ornate carvings everywhere. We went into an attached museum to see some of El Greco's paintings (he lived and worked in Toledo) and then into another room where we saw various jewels and trinkets (including a brooch with Loyola's signature) that once belonged to famous clergy and other religious folk.

After the cathedral, we had a break for lunch and shopping. Because a few of the kids had brought lunch from home, Katherine and I went to buy lunch (for me a ham baguette) and then went back to join them. We sat in a park that overlooked the mountains and after we finished, we went shopping! We strolled up and down one of the main streets looking at all the jewelry shops (I bought myself silver earrings - or at least, fake silver earrings) and Don and Kevin asked for help picking out gifts for their girlfriends. I've got to say - I give some pretty good girlfriend-shopping-advice. Then we went to a fancy bakery and bought boxes of marzipan. Mine has since been devoured, but I took a picture the preserve the memory. . .

Next was the Iglesia de Santo Tomé, ("where the philanthropist Conde de Orgaz is buried") and the Sinagoga del Tránsito ("where you can see clear examples of Arabic influence in the architecture"). Then was the Sinagoga de Santa María La Blanca, (very pretty - decorated with abstract piñas, or pineapples) and last, was San Juan de Los Reyes (a church and monastery with a nice courtyard). By this point, my Spanish was getting tired and my notes fade out a bit, but I remember that the wooden ceilings were important (because into them are carved the different banners of Spain's autonomous regions) and that the recurring symbol on the walls is an intertwined F and I, for Ferdinand and Isabella. While we were there, a concert was being performed in the church (I think in connection with a wedding) so I blame Vivaldi for distracting me from the intricacies of the woodwork.

We wandered back to the bus, stopping for pictures several times, and drove back to Madrid. Amanda, Lizzie, Elisha, and I walked back to our homestays from the bus-stop near Retiro (which didn't take as long as I though it would) and got back just in time for dinner (rice and salmon). Julia had a headache so she went to bed early, but I stayed up and watched The Holiday, or "Los Vacaciones", as the Spaniards call it. I watched the movie in English with Spanish subtitles and made a list of vocabulary while I was watching. I'm going to watch it again in Spanish with Spanish subtitles. If I can procrastinate by watching movies and tell myself it's helping my Spanish, I'm all for it. Everyone else went out and woke up with bad hangovers this morning, so I think my night was more fun. Others might disagree.

I woke up this morning, planning on being productive, but then pretty much just read The Pelican Brief until lunch. After my meatballs and rice (Julia doesn't really believe in vegetables) I had to rush out to meet Christine at Nuevos Ministerios. We went to El Museo de Ciencias Naturales, which is right on Paseo de Castellana. It's a small museum, but they had a temporary exhibit about Darwin on display. There was lots to look at, and afterwards, we went to a cafe near the Bilbao metro stop. We were the only ones there (it's more of a night hangout, I guess) but it was really good. I ordered a white hot chocolate and Christine ordered tea, which both came with cookies. We sat and chatted for a couple of hours, and got back to our señoras' houses for dinner (for me, tortilla española).

Tomorrow I'm going to try to go to mass at one of the bigger churches in Madrid, which should be interesting, and then prepare myself for the bullfight. Other students have already gone, and haven't liked it at all, but it will be an experience if nothing else. And now, I think I will sleep.

Más fotografías!

I've finally added all my Morocco pictures to the shutterfly site.

Enjoy!

Here's the link: http://gigiinmadrid.shutterfly.com/

Una semana ocupada

(A view of the Atlantic Coast in Asilah, Morocco)

So now I will tell you about the rest of my week, because I'm sure you're not sick of me yet.

Monday involved catching up on work and sleep that were ignored in Morocco. I actually woke up Tuesday morning, opened my eyes, and saw that my lights were on. I figured I must have fallen asleep before turning them off, and then I wondered whether I set my alarm or not. I rolled over to check, and saw the my phone was in my hand on the alarm screen, but that I had not pressed "set." Yes, I fell asleep setting my alarm. I had to skip a shower and breakfast, but made it to my class on time, despite being awfully peeved about being deprived of food.

Because I get home from class by 5 on Tuesdays, (and because I had just eaten for 4 days straight) I decided to go for a run. This is a rare and unexpected occurrence for me and usually results in some kind of story. This run didn't disappoint. In preparation, I checked google maps and planned a loop that would take me about 45 minutes. I even made myself a little Post-It note map to stick in my Ipod case. So I was running, feeling good, and loving that there was a stoplight on every corner. Suddenly, the road that was supposed to be there wasn't. I even checked my Post-It map. But I figured that since I was heading in the right direction, I'd intersect the next road eventually, so I kept going. Things started to look familiar and I was running downhill, so things were going well. But then everything started looking less familiar and it seemed like I had been running for an awfully long time. I stopped to look at the first map I saw, and realized I had run about 20 minutes in the wrong direction. So I had to run back up the hill (since when are there hills in cities, anyway?) to the plaza where I had made the wrong turn. I was supposed to make a left, but of course, the road I needed was not there. But I kept going, figuring it must be somewhere around there. I ran into a sketchy neighborhood and then, more quickly, out of the sketchy neighborhood, and then started asking for directions. It took three people before anyone knew my street. After stopping several more times for directions and after running for about another 20 minutes, I made it back to Julia's. I had been gone for more than 2 hours. I think this is one of the reasons why I always swam instead of ran - it's hard to get lost in a pool (although there was that time I ended up two lanes over. . .)

On Wednesday, I had lunch with Lizzie and Guillermo, who popped up out of nowhere (maybe he's stalking me. . .) We chatted for an hour and half about holiday traditions in our designated countries, and I sat there jealous that I don't have a guy's metabolism (he had a plate of pasta, a steak, a plate of fries, a footlong sandwich, and a bowl of rice pudding). Then I went to the Carlos III library, determined to come out with some movies (so that I can watch them in Spanish with subtitles). I have been searching the online catalog for two weeks now, and have not figured out where they are hiding these movies. So I wandered through the whole library to no avail, and then worked up the courage to ask a librarian, in Spanish. Of course, she pointed at the door right behind me and gave me a look that I did not appreciate, but as soon as I walked into the room, I didn't care. Behind this door (which looks like it is to an office and is why I didn't check there in the first place) is a wonderful room full of movies and books in English! I was really excited and spent quite a bit of time there. I loaned three movies and a book (a process which involves a lot of Spanish) and interlibrary loaned two more books. I was pretty proud of myself. Of course, now I have to figure out how to play these movies on my computer, because the discs in Europe are a different format than in the US. You can change the language on your disc drive only 5 times, so I don't want to do that, but I heard talk of some media player you can download. I tried that and have successfully gotten one of three discs to work. Hmpf.

Today I had lunch with my intercambio student, Jennifer. The intercambio program assigns you a Spanish student who wants to learn English, and you meet once a week to practice the two languages. It went really well, and she seems nice. I'm meeting with her again next week, so hopefully my Spanish magically improves. I have one other intercambio I haven't met yet, and I'm still debating whether I should take Guillermo up on his offer to do an intercambio. I'm also considering instigating Spanish-only days for myself. I considered a week, but that seemed daunting, so I decided to start off smaller.

I also got my Spanish test back today - 93.25! This is a solid A at Carlos III and is one of the highest grades in the class. Other people broke down in tears upon getting their tests, so I had to hide my excitement until I excused myself to the bathroom to do a happy-dance.

And yay! I am finally caught up on my blog entries, and about time. I have a class trip to Toledo tomorrow, so I'll probably have plenty more to talk about then. Now, I'm going to go work on getting my 273 pictures of Morocco posted. Fun!

Día Cuatro en Marruecos

(A view of Chefchaouen, Morocco)

I had volunteered to wake up first again, but it went much better this morning as I had a warm shower for the first time during the trip (having buckets of boiling water dumped on your head at the Hammam doesn't count). We had to wake up early as Arnd was taking us on a "short walk" up the mountain to a scenic view-point of the city. Well, Arnd is a hiker and first came to Morocco on some sort of intense hiking trip. So a short walk for Arnd was a hike for the rest of us, and what's better than a hike at 7 in the morning? This is Morning-Gigi, remember. But the view from the top was nice, and we all sat on the overlook as Arnd read some insightful poetry and whipped out some cookies, (to appease us after our stroll up the mountain).

We then walked back down the mountain, grabbed our stuff from the hostel, and headed to the bus. Once we were all settled, (meaning out knees were crunched in a somewhat comfortable manner and the AC was finally on) Arnd surprised us with a breakfast of bread, cheese, figs, candied nuts, bananas, and "Yogurt - you can drink it!" We drove back towards the border, stopping once at a rest-stop where one of us, Dan, went outside to stretch his legs. Arnd thought he was lost and you should have seen how he jumped into action - apparently he really slows his pace for us cookie-munching Americans. Because our driver was Moroccan and not allowed to cross the border, we actually walked across the border and into Ceuta, a Spanish territory. After getting our passports stamped, we took taxis to the port, only to find that our ferry had been cancelled. We had about an hour to waste until the next boat, so we all went to the bar and ordered drinks (for me, a Fanta, because I'm cool like that).

We took the ferry back to Algeciras, while filling out Arnd's survey about "What we learned about ourselves on this trip." After landing we all said goodbye and Arnd said he was pleased about the Spanish custom of "kissing all the beautiful women" (remember the accent here). He started with me - awkward, but then all of us had to figure out what we were going to do for the six hours before our bus left for Madrid. Lizzie, Christine, Don, Julia, and I decided to take the 2 euro bus to Gibraltar and chill there for the afternoon. We tried to get to the British side, but it seemed really complicated, so we found a harbor on the Spanish side and stuck our feet in the Mediterranean. We got ice cream on the way back to the bus and when we got back to Algeciras, ate dinner at a kebab place. I had a chicken kebab pita thing, which was fantastic, and then we got bus to Madrid.

The bus ride was miserable - I hardly slept at all, but we got back to Madrid at about 5 am. The metros don't start until 6, so four of us girls who live fairly close together shared a taxi. After the taxi-driver got lost and charged us for his mistake (suspicious, I think) I finally got to Julia's at abut 5:45. I went upstairs and unlocked the door, but she had closed that lock that you fold over, meaning that I couldn't get in. Great. I was too scared to call her and wake her up at 6 in the morning, so I considered sleeping in the stairwell until 9 when Baquita arrived. But then Baquita would see me, tell Julia, and Julia would be mad that I didn't wake her up. So then I considered sleeping on the couches downstairs and setting my alarm for 8:30, at which point, I'd go walk around outside until Baquita showed up. I realized I couldn't do that, because Julia's neighbors would be going off to work and would wonder who that strange girl sleeping on the couches was. Next I considered sleeping in the park next door (when I played that thought back in my head, I realized it was a bad idea) and then considered riding the subway for three hours (until I realized that only homeless people do that). So I called Amanda, one of the students I took the taxi with, but her phone was off, so then I called Lizzie, who graciously allowed me to crash at her residencia and sleep in her bed while she studied for a test. I took the metro back to Julia's at 9, and didn't tell her a thing about the morning's escapade.

And that's the end of my Moroccan adventure! It was a really fantastic trip and I loved every second of it. I can't wait to get home and try my hand at Moroccan cooking, but for the real experience, I think I'll just have to go back!

Día Tres en Marruecos

(A rural home in the Rif Mountains of Morocco)

After waking up and eating breakfast (there was no need to shower after the previous night's excursion), Lizzie, Christine, and I said goodbye to our host family and headed off to meet the rest of the group. We packed ourselves into our little van and headed for the Rif Mountains. We stopped at a scary, hole-in-the-floor bathroom (those things require way too much effort), while Arnd went to the local market to buy us more snacks (we are a demanding group). He returned with freshly-baked bread, figs, bananas, and of course, cookies. Yay for Arnd!

When we got closer to the mountains, we met up with a Moroccan friend of Arnd's, whose home (which is in a rural village in the mountains) we were visiting that afternoon. The only reason there was a road to the village was that the family's grandmother petitioned the government about the necessity of being able to get women to the hospital when they were in labor. We drove through the village, stopping to look at the communal well, and then took a short hike through the mountains to the family's home. After introductions, we helped the family prepare lunch by washing and cutting vegetables, arranging food on plates, and setting everything out on a mat they had spread under one of their olive trees. I was in a jumpy mood as their patio seemed to be infested with bees that seemed to be chasing me. Fortunately, the bee conditions were much better on the mat and I was able to calm myself down. We ate bread, vegetables, nuts, figs, dates, grapes, moroccan tea, cookies, and huge bowls of couscous.

We chatted for two hours about marriage differences between the West and Morocco. The conversation was mostly between Arnd and the men in the family, but it seemed to be generally agreed upon that the desired qualities in a Moroccan husband are a big heart and a big wallet (the women spoke up when asked and added their two cents, as well). After this talk, the Moroccan family took out their drums, and gave us a performance of traditional Moroccan music and singing. Arnd made us all dance, and we looked like flailing fools, but it was a good time and I think the family enjoyed our attempts at coordination.

We then just chilled for a while, playing with the kids of the family, looking at the olive press (many Moroccan families sell olive oil for income), and taking pictures. We then said goodbye and headed back to the bus and drove to Chefchaouen, a city near the mountains. We checked into our hostel/hotel - Hotel Jasmina, and then had three hours to walk around the Medina. Lizzie, Christine, Don, and I wandered together and had a really good time. It was dark by the time were walking around, but there were still lots of people (and kids especially) hanging out in the narrow, winding streets. We did some souvenir shopping, which takes talent in Morocco if you don't want to be ripped off. Bartering is expected and shop-owners will always quote you a price that's about five times too high. If you come off as American, your price will be about 10 times too high, so we decided to barter in Spanish, which turned out to be a really good strategy (Moroccans generally speak Moroccan Arabic, French, Spanish, and English). I turned out to be pretty good at the not-getting-ripped-off thing despite my being pretty nervous. The first thing I tried to buy was a bracelet which the store owner said was 150 Dirhams. I suggested 20 Dirhams, and then after a bit of back-and-forth, 30 Dirhams (3 euros). He didn't seem to be budging from his lowered 90 Dirhams, and I'm stubborn, too, so I left. I was about two blocks away when he came running up to me with the bracelet and offering it to me for 30 Dirhams. Muchos gracias, I said. We wandered some more and got lost, and in our attempts to get back, passed that same store about three more times. He invited us in on our third time around and was trying to get Lizzie to buy some bracelets. We started chatting, and he showed us pictures of himself when he lived in the Sahara. Then he wrapped us up in turbans and we got a kick out of that. He also gave us directions back to the main plaza, and as we were heading in that direction we ran into one of the Peace Corps volunteers, who suggested that we try the snack from the food vendor we were standing next to. We did (it was some sort of egg-pastry desert) and, of course, I thought it was great. As we were eating, a traditional wedding procession walked by, (which is essentially a rowdy parade) so that was cool to see.

We then met up with the rest of the group for dinner at Cafe Aladdin. We were seated upstairs on the outdoor patio with a view of the city. You could see all the white and blue houses that made up the town and hear all of the bustle of the city, even though it was about 9:30 pm. For dinner I had a Moroccan tomato soup, and chicken pastilla. Now this chicken pastilla deserves some attention. It was simply amazing. The dish consisted of spiced chicken wrapped in filo dough and topped with sugar and a ton of cinnamon. I know this sounds like a weird combination, but that's exactly why I ordered it and I was so glad I did. Fantastic. Marvelous. Delectable. I wish I had one right now. Then after tea and cookies we headed back to the hostel where Arnd said, "I have a surprise for you!" We all guessed it was cookies, but it wasn't. We all crowded into his room and sat down around some candles he had set up. Our surprise was a talk about our feelings. How very German. He also gave us each a piece of crystallized sand and a little block of musk that smells just like Morocco. After we were done exploring the depths of our emotions, Lizzie and I headed out again to finish some gift-buying. We didn't stay out very long and came back to a "snuggle-fest" with all the BC kids. I think we were exhausted and not thinking straight by this point. After a few minutes of that, we all went to our designated beds and curled up for the night.