My Semester in Spain: Gigi in Madrid

Día Dos en Londres

2010-01-15T07:59:00.000-08:00

(A view of Piccadilly Circus in London, England)

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

Today I woke up nice and early and stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. Unfortunately, the hostel didn't have any towels to rent (as they had run out the day before) so I decided that a shower was rather unnecessary, especially because I was by myself and who would even know?

So I got changed and went downstairs for breakfast. I was still unsure of what time it was, as my watch and cell phone now displayed two different times and I wasn't sure which was correct. But breakfast was there (just cereal and toast) and I sat down at a table with three girls - two Brazilians and one Australian. We were chatting for a while and the Australian, stereotypically enough, started looking around for some Vegemite. Surprisingly, she found some and started making herself toast. I was curious and she suggested that I should try some, too. She said that it was important to have an Australian make you toast with Vegemite, because foreigners put too much on and then don't like the taste. So I had my toast with Vegemite and actually liked it quite a bit - I even had another slice.

So I headed out for my fun-filled day with my plastic bag purse in hand. I walked to the Underground Station and bought an Oyster Card (the as-you-go metro pass) and then hopped on the train heading to Embankment. I left the station, and was shivering within seconds - London is just freezing (and no one else seemed to be noticing this)! Apparently, the weather in Madrid has spoiled me. I made my way towards the Thames and through the Victoria Tower Garden, which is right next to the Houses of Parliament. After taking pictures of the Emancipation Monument, which is displayed in the Garden, I then crossed the Lambeth Road bridge to the East side of the Thames. There are nice walkways along this side of the Thames, so I looped back around and started down the other side. There were plenty of oppotunities for great pictures of the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben and also the garbage cans which say neither "Garbage" nor "Trash," but "Litter." Even the British garbage cans speak with an accent. I crossed the Thames again on the Westminster Bridge and made my way North to Trafalgar Square, (which is one of the main plazas in London). I walked past the National Portrait Museum and an art display - the Ice Bear. This display is a bear's skeleton that had been covered by ice, essentially making a huge ice sculpture. Parts of the ice had melted, creating a really bizzare piece of art.

I had planned to go to the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace that morning, (which takes place at 11:30 am on odd numbered days) and wanted to be there by about 10:30 (I heard the crowds can start building up early). I had some time to kill before I needed to be there and I didn't want to wait around in the freezing cold weather for more time than necessary, so I kept walking North towards Oxford Street. I passed Piccadilly Circus on the way, which is kind of like London's Times Square (and gave some people directions - they asked me, I didn't suggest my services. . .). After that, I just wandered through some of the neighborhoods in London. There were lots of old winding streets (very Diagon Alley-esque) and I ended up walking all the way to Oxford Street (which is the big shopping street in London) and stopped in a big department store to warm up. I wandered through the Christmas decoration area and then made my way to the kitchen gadgets department before heading back outside. It was now time to start walking back towards Buckingham Palace, so I headed down North Audley Street and passed lots of old buildings (which looked as if they were right out of Oliver). The neighborhoods must have been London's old factory districts.

I had almost reached Buckingham Palace when I realized that I needed to cross Piccadilly Street. This is one of the huge highways in London and there were many cars (driving in the wrong directions) that were standing between me and the other side of the street. I walked up and down the street for quite a ways before I found a cross-walk and passed this one group of construction workers several times before I managed to cross the street. Right on the other side of Piccadilly Street was Green Park, a huge park that leads right up to Buckingham Palace. Different from most other city parks I've been to, there wasn't a lot of landscaping or benches. This park was pretty much just a rolling plot of grass with a sprinkling of trees. I walked to the other side of the park and stopped at a coffee stand for hot chocolate before heading over to the Buckingham gates. After only a few minutes my hot chocolate was iced chocolate and I considered going back for another, but I didn't want to loose my place near the gates, as there were already quite a few people waiting. So I waited for an hour, oddly enough, with a group of Spaniards - I was quite proud of myself for understanding their conversation. But it was freezing. Absolutely frigid. My gloves were doing nothing (and neither was my coat for that matter) and that hour just crawled by.

At 11:30, the Changing of the Guard started with a calvary parade that circled the plaza. Then the official guards came out and started their marching procession. At one point during the procession, the head guard went around and tugged on all of the other guards' hats, testing to see if they were on correctly. Some of them weren't, and those guards had to embarrassingly fix their hats in front of the hundreds of people watching. The guards also did this weird shuffling move as part of the procession that was one of my favorite parts - it was like a sideways moon-walk. Then the marching band came out and gave a short performance, surprising everyone with a medley of ABBA songs.

After everything was finished, I was so cold that I was legitimately having trouble walking, (I think my knees had frozen). I walked over to the Queen Victoria Monument (which faces the Palace) and after taking some pictures, decided that my next stop would be the Saint James' Palace, which a tourbook at the hostel had said was open for tours. So I wandered over towards the Palace and looped around the building that looked the most promising (again, I was using my map which only labeled what it felt like labeling). I walked all the way around the building (which was tricky because this involved crossing several roads) and didn't see anything that looked like a door. I did another loop and this time noticed a door that was blocked by Royal Guards, who seemed to be keeping people out, not letting people in. So I figured that maybe I had the wrong building. I wandered a little bit further away, yet none of the other buildings seemed to resemble a Palace. I asked one woman (and she was legit - she had a British accent and everything) where Saint James' Palace was, but she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. I passed this tiny little alleyway, where I stopped inside a cafe just to reheat my fingers, and then again faced the cold, giving the neighborhood one more loop before giving up.

Still no door, and after having wandered around in the freezing cold for an hour after having stood in the freezing cold for two hours, I was getting pretty cranky. I had wanted to fit in one more thing before lunch, but now all my plans were messed up, because it was not quite lunch time, but there was nothing I could finish before I was starving. I decided to head back to Westminster Abbey, (which I had originally planned on skipping) and walked along Horse Guards' Road, passing the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms (and a sign which informed me that Saint James' Palace was closed to the public - that explained that). As I was walking along the border of Green Park, I also saw a nice view of the gardens and Buckingham Palace in the background. As I was stopped to take pictures, I saw a weird bird swimming around in the pond. I'm pretty sure it was a pelican, but I didn't think that pelicans liked sitting in freezing water all day, so I took a picture to prove to myself that I wasn't hallucinating from heat deprivation. As I was walking, I also noticed a remarkable number of joggers, who were out for their afternoon runs in shorts and t-shirts. Ridiculous. I could barely walk because I was so cold, and there they were, wearing next to nothing and exercising. Runners.

I got to Westminster Abbey and almost didn't go in, as it was 12 pounds ($25) admission. But I was so cold by this point that I couldn't walk another step, so I paid and went in. I got an audio guide with my admission which had about 25 stops around the cathedral and abbey. The tour was probably meant to be about 1.5 - 2 hours, but I was there for almost 3 hours and enjoyed it quite a bit. I first just sat and listened to the organist practicing all the Christmas music and then looped around looking at some of the chapels where all the famous monarchs are buried. Westminster Abbey is also where all the coronations occur and on display in the museum were the Coronation Chair (in which most of the English monarchs have sat) and the huge diamond sceptor used during the ceremonies. In addition to the actual cathedral, you can tour parts of the abbey where the monks still live. One of the stops included the gardens which are some of the oldest cultivated gardens in London. Also wandering around the abbey was a crazy woman who liked to demonstrate her singing skills. She actually had quite a nice voice, but after a while, the security guards escorted her away. I then walked back to the cathedral where the boys choir had started practicing, so I sat and listened to them for a while. These boys are selected from all over London and even attend a special school together. They are one of the most recognized choirs in the world. I then headed to the gift store, which was really nice. They had all sorts of souvenirs, from pencils to tea to lemon cheese (don't ask me what that is) and awesome umbrellas (with the lyrics from Singing in the Rain - how clever) which I would have bought had they not been almost $40.

I still had not eaten by this point and it was almost dinner time, but there didn't seem to be any restaurants nearby, so I headed back towards the Thames and strolled North to Covent Garden. Covent Garden ended up being my favorite neighborhood in London. It is a neighborhood of all these interconnected winding streets and while it is the theatre district, it is also filled with restaurants, cafes, and shopping. As I was searching for a restaurant, I passed the theatre for the Lion King, and decided to stop in and ask how much tickets were. For that night they were pretty expensive - about 40 pounds but for the next day, the cheapest tickets were only 20 pounds. So I whipped my wallet out of my plastic bag and bought tickets for the next night. I was excited - theatre in London! The best part was that the theatre would be heated.

So I headed back outside and continued the search for dinner. I saw a sign for a cafe that seemed to be a chain in London, but as I walked in, I realized I had entered the door to the sketchy cafe next-door that was completely empty except for the owner. Well, I couldn't very well leave now! I warily wandred over to the counter and ordered what looked like a decent tuna fish sandwich on a bagel. While the owner was heating up my dinner, I asked if he had a bathroom. He pointed me downstairs and I found one of the most sketchy bathrooms I have ever seen (outside of Morocco, that is). The place could have been out of a horror movie, but everything was functional (including this sink which had a temperature dial on the wall instead of faucets). I went back upstairs, got my food, and sat down at one of the tables. The owner was sitting right there and I felt awkward pulling out my book, but before I could decide what to do, the owner started a conversation. Turns out he is from Morocco (coincidental, I know) so we talked about that for a while and after a bit, another guy named Danny walked in and sat down (he was from Spain - this was quite the coincidental restaurant). We chatted for about an hour and by the time I left, the owner was offering me a job in his restaurant. I've always pictured myself working at a larger and somewhat less-sketchy job, but I told him if I ever found myself in London again, I would come visit. Being friendly never hurt anyone.

I spent the next couple hours shopping in Covent Garden. Lots of the stores are familiar (the Gap and H&M) but there were lots of new places to look at, too. I loved the fashions in London - very classy, and I would have dropped a lot of money if I had had a lot of money to drop. But seeing as I am a poor college student, I only bought myself a hat (which served the dual purpose of keeping my head warm and making me look famous). Yay! I passed the Royal Opera House along the way and ended up walking back to Oxford Street and scouting out some of the stores near there and looking at all of the big Christmas light displays. I found a kind of shopping mall that I spent a good deal of time at and visited the store, Accesories, which I now love, and a bookstore, (where one of the first books I picked up quoted a BC professor - go figure). I walked back towards Piccadilly Circus through some really nice neighborhoods and headed in and out of some souvenir shops, (at one point they were playing the version of "winter Wonderland" that was in The Holiday. I felt like Kate Winslet - especially in my new celebrity hat. I passed another Christmas festival that was set up in a square near Piccadilly Circus and after checking that out, walked back to the Piccadilly Circus Underground station and took the train back to the hostel.

Back at the hostel, I spent some quality time with the computer planning the next day and checking my e-mails. I also found out that I had been accepted into Alpha Sigma Nu, the national honor society for Jesuit universities, so I was pretty excited about that. I then went upstairs to bed and after I asked these two German girls what time it was, (they had no idea what I was saying) I fell fast asleep, happy to be warm in my bed.

Día Uno en Londres

2010-01-06T11:49:00.000-08:00

(The Natural History Museum in London, England)

Well, I have gotten a bit behind on my blogging - about four weeks. Oops. So I'll start with London!

Monday, December 14, 2009

After I had gotten through Madrid's airport security with about an hour to spare, I wandered over to my gate and grabbed a seat. I pulled out my book to occupy some time, but the next thing I remember is one of the airline workers shaking me and saying, "Are you planning on going to London? The plane is about to leave." I tripped over my bag getting up so fast and hobbled to the plane, as my leg was still asleep. Morning Gigi strikes again!

As the plane was taking off, I saw that it was starting to snow outside - the first snow I had seen this winter. I must not have been that impressed because I fell asleep almost immediately and didn't wake up until the plane landed at Stansted Airport. As I had forgotten to check whether the was a time difference between Madrid and London, I wasn't sure whether or not I was late for the shuttle to London, so I ran through all the security lines, got my passport stamped (by a woman who was my first sample of a British accent - I had no idea what she was saying), and flew over the where the buses pick travelers up. On my way, I stopped to withdraw pounds, (which are really expensive) and then bought myself breakfast - orange juice and a wonderful sort of granola bar as well as a treacle tart for later. How British.

But once I got outside, I froze to the spot. It is rather chilly in London. I had expected it to be cold but Madrid had spoiled me weather-wise. It was that type of cold where your knees get stiff and your eyes get squinty and the wind goes right up the sleeves of your coat. I shuffled over to where I was to meet the bus, and luckily, it showed up right away, before my orange juice turned into an orange flavored ice cube. The bus ride was quite nice, as it was heated and they had a Christmas station playing on the radio. And even though everything was in English, I had no idea what the advertisements were actually advertising (they seemed like random sentences threaded together). But all the announcers had accents, which always brightens my mood. Then they announced the weather - London: 40 degrees. ¡Qué! Madrid must have really spoiled me, because I thought it was at least -5 degrees!

After about an hour and a half, the bus got to central London and I asked the bus driver where the Metro was. He replied that the Metro was in Paris, but that the Underground was around the corner. Those Brits. I walked to the Victoria Street Station and got in line for a one-way ticket. It cost me 4 pounds, (which is about 7 dollars)! I decided then that I would be doing an awful lot of walking. I took the Underground to Gloucester Road, which was where my hostel was (without getting lost, I might add) and managed to walk to my hostel, only having to turn around once as I had walked too far down the street. Unfortunately on this walk, the strap of my purse broke, rendering the whole bag unusable. So for the rest of my London trip, I carried by belongings around in a plastic bag. This made me feel a little bit homeless and museum security looked at me oddly, but the plastic bag method seemed to suffice.

After dropping my backpack in the luggage room and asking the person at the front desk for tourist suggestions, I was off. I wandered the neighborhood (Kensington) a bit first, and passed the Royal Albert Hall and Royal Academy of Music before making my way to the Natural History Museum. I had planned to spend only a couple of hours at the Museum, but I ended up staying for almost 5 hours. It was a very cool museum and had displays on everything from the human body and perception, to earthquakes and oceans (and it was all in English). I had lunch at the Museum's cafe (an egg and cress sandwich with grapes) and also visited the new Darwin center. After watching a documentary about David Attenborough in the new Attenborough Studio and taking pictures of the museum's library (in which a file exists for every plant or animal ever discovered), I headed to Hyde Park.

It was already dark, so I stayed along the outer rims of the park and eventually found the Winter Wonderland - one of London's annual Christmas fairs. Although I was damp and freezing, the fair was still fun to walk around, especially because everyone had a British accent, even the little kids! England is fun that way.

Then, at Julia's suggestion, I was off to find Harrods - London's big department store. Unfortunately, the map given to me by the hostel wasn't very good and didn't include all the streets. Therefore, I had to wander around until I found a street that was important enough to be on my map - this is a very inefficient way of traveling around, especially when it's so dark you can hardly see the map anyway. Furthermore, cars in London drive on the wrong side of the street. I knew this when I got to London, but I didn't make the connection that when I was crossing the street, I would have to look the other way. Also, it seems to me that cars in London have the right of way, not pedestrians. This led to a few terrifyingly near-death experiences on my part, and even after I remembered to stop and look in the right direction, there were too many cars coming from too many directions for my frozen brain to sort out. The method I developed included prayer and running across streets with my eyes closed. Anyway, as I was walking I saw a store which looked really warm and well-lit, and since my joints were freezing over by this point, I stopped in to get warm. It turned out to be a grocery store - I had not even planned that. I suppose I am just drawn to them - it must be fate.

So after touring the aisles of the supermarket, I again faced the cold, and this time, actually found Harrods. Their Christmas decorations included advertisements for theater's Wicked, so the first thing I saw were the two giant feet of the Wicked Witch of the East sticking out from under the building. I entered the store and it was packed. I felt a little out of place because Harrods turns out to be a luxury items store (I should have figured - Julia told me about it) and I was walking around with my belongings in a plastic bag. The store can be compared to Macy's in NYC. There were seven floors filled with everything from pots and pans to riding equipment, but the most exciting part were the cafes. It is officially a supermarket, but the sections are all separate and have their own counters. It was very busy and very expensive so after a few minutes, I headed back out into the rainy freezing-ness to walk back to the hostel.

It was a longer walk than I had anticipated, but I saw a lot of London's shopping district. I stopped for dinner at a Thai restaurant near my hostel, which was quite good. I got a chicken and vegetable stir fry with rice and lemonade and they also gave me these Asian rice-crackers, which were probably my favorite part. I asked what they were, but they have a Thai name, and I therefore had no idea what the waitress said, but I will be looking for them if I ever see a Thai supermarket. I decided that I do not like eating alone, but fortunately for me, there was no one in the restaurant to judge me except for the waitress - who was having her dinner at the next table over. No worries.

I stopped at the supermarket next door to the hostel to look for an umbrella (unsuccessfully) and then headed back to the hostel, where I checked in and brought my stuff up to my room. The room was big and had 10 beds and two bathrooms down the hall. Not all the spaces were taken up so there was plenty of room to spread out. I then went back downstairs to the lounge to plan out the next day. I circled everything on my map that I wanted to do (which was pretty much everything) and must have looked like a wreck (my neck was barely supporting my head by this point) because the boy sitting next to me asked if I needed advice. So we started talking (he was from Holland) and then the two kids on the other couch joined in, too (one from Chicago and one from LA). They all were talking about what they had already done and still wanted to do, so from their advice, I made myself a plan for the next day. I was practically asleep by this point, but I dragged myself up to bed and passed out.

¡Más fotografías!

2009-12-20T12:18:00.000-08:00

I've finally finished uploading all the pictures from Rome! I sorted through both mine and Lizzie's pictures and put them all in one album on the Shutterfly site. I also uploaded a few more to the most recent Gigi in Madrid album.

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

Enjoy!

Día Quatro en Roma

2009-12-19T16:33:00.000-08:00

(The Fontana di Trevi in Roma, Italia)

Sunday, December 13th

So after only three hours of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. Once I was ready, I woke up Lizzie, packed all of my stuff, and then crawled back into bed for a nap until Lizzie was finished. We went downstairs to check-out and after they made me run back upstairs to bring down our sheets, we headed over to the hostel restaurant to get breakfast. Today, we shared the egg and bacon sandwiches and a bowl of granola, yogurt, and fruit, and after we finished, walked back to the open-air market we found on the first day to do some souvenir shopping. Because our flight wasn't until later in the day, we had time to kill and had planned to explore the Trastevere neighborhood all morning. We asked a shop owner for directions, and she told us we needed to walk to a bus stop, take a bus, and then take a tram - all of which sounded awfully confusing. So Lizzie and I decided just to hang around central Rome for the morning and see what other things we could find. As we were walking, it started to rain, and we were still trying to think of something to do when we passed a church that was advertising Korean services. The sign was in Korean and Lizzie was excited because she is also half Korean. So we went in and listened to a group singing Christmas carols in English. Then we stuck around for most of the rest of the service. Lizzie was happy because she got to sit down and I was happy because I got to sing, (even if it was only my desperate attempt at Italian).

We then walked back to the Trevi Fountain again, because I still needed to throw in a coin. One coin means you'll come back to Rome, two says you'll come back to Rome and fall in love, and three says you'll come back to Rome, fall in love, and get married. As my worst nightmare is to accidentally marry into the mafia, I only threw in one. While we were there, we saw a terribly attractive and well-dressed group of teenagers in front of the fountain and then saw that they were being professionally photographed. Turns out they were models on a photo shoot, which explains their attractiveness and well-dressed-ness.

We then strolled back to our hostel a different way and headed back towards the hostel, where we had planned on going to lunch at a restaurant for which we had a coupon. Unfortunately, it was closed (we tried here several other times, as well, and it was closed each time). So we went back to the restaurant we ate the first day. I got rotini in broccoli sauce and then we both got tartufo for dessert. This waiter was not as friendly as the first had been and we were also sitting right next to the drink fridge. Every time someone shut the door to the fridge, a puff of air would shoot at me. I am like a cat in the fact that I do not like when air/wind blows on me, so every time this happened, I would cringe.

When we finished, we walked back across the street to the hostel to pick up our bags from the luggage room. Sidenote: yesterday, Lizzie had bought a poster at one of the open-air markets, but this morning, had refused to put it in the luggage room because she didn't want anyone to take it. Therefore, she had been carrying this poster around for two days. It now had a smudge of Nutella in the corner and rain-tattered edges. But it is still a very nice picture.

So after we grabbed our stuff, we headed back to the train station and bought tickets back to the airport. This time we asked about verifying our tickets, and we we were told that was unnecessary. We got on the train when it came and slept for the half hour ride to the airport. We got through security with no problems and with plenty of time to spare. We went to one of the airport restaurants for dinner (again we were the only ones there) and I got pasta with shrimp (risky, I know). After we had spent about an hour at the restaurant we moved to our gate, but unfortunately, the airport had re-routed another flight to our terminal. Therefore, our flight back to Madrid got delayed for about an hour. In the meantime, Lizzie and I fell asleep at the gate and when I woke up, there was nobody in the waiting-area. It was still a half-hour until our flight as scheduled to leave, so I woke up Lizzie and she went to check to other gates while I stayed and watched our stuff. After she had left, a security man appeared at our gate and I asked him what had happened to our flight. He said it was moved to a different gate, so I grabbed all of our stuff, found Lizzie, and we got in line at the other gate.

Once we were on the plane, we again fell asleep and woke an hour and a half later, thinking we were already in Madrid. Nope. We hadn't even left Rome yet. Apparently there was some problem with the mechanics and the guy that had been working on fixing it broke something else, so they had to call in an engineer to fix that mistake. So we were delayed for another hour before we took off. We were supposed to arrive in Madrid at 10:30 pm and didn't get back until 1 am. I wouldn't have been worried, but my flight to London was that morning at 6:30 am and I needed to go back to Julia's, pack clean clothes, and grab my boarding pass to London. I had been planning on taking the metro to Julia's and back to the airport, but with the delay, the metro was already shut down for the night.

The only way for me to get home was to pay for a taxi both ways, which would be over 40 euro. I asked the man at the information desk if I could just show the airline my passport without a boarding pass, and he said that would cost 40 euro extra. So I asked if he could print it off for me and he said the only printers at the airport were at the currency exchange desks. When Lizzie and I found a currency exchange desk, they wasn't anyone there. So I decided to pay for the taxi, but the next problem was that I did not have any euros on me. So I found a public computer and transferred money into my account and then went to the ATM to withdraw money. Unfortunately, none of the ATMs would take my card and I panicked, thinking that Bank of America had shut my card down again. This worried me, because if I had no money, I couldn't very well go to London for three days.

So Lizzie lent me money to take the taxi home and thankfully, I was able to withdraw money from the ATM near Julia's apartment. I was also able to get in Julia's door (I had been remembering the time when she locked it and I ended up spending the night at Lizzie's) and pack a new set of clean clothes. Things were looking up.

Día Tres en Roma

2009-12-19T14:32:00.000-08:00

(The Basilica del San Pietro in Città del Vaticano, Italia)

Saturday, December 12th

We got to sleep in a bit today as we weren't planning on being at the Vatican until 10. We ate breakfast in the hostel bar and both had egg and bacon sandwiches with ketchup (the ketchup packets were really hard to open so we resorted to sharing just one instead of exerting the energy to open two). We then got on the metro to the Vatican and after Lizzie stopped to buy some leggings at a vendor, we started to look for an entrance. We got called after by one Australian guy who was advertising a Vatican tour, and we tried to cross the street to get away from him, but he managed to follow us and we were met on the other side of the street by one of his Canadian coworkers. They explained to us their whole deal and then invited us out for beers, (which really didn't add to the legitimacy of their offer). We managed to turn them down, despite their persistence, and kept walking towards the Vatican, but when we saw the line that stretched around the whole of the Piazza, we followed a different guy who was also advertising a tour (that was also cheaper than the first).

We met up with the group led by a British guy named Antony, who turned out to be kind of bizarre (he kept making dirty, inappropriate jokes that no one was laughing at). Three more American men joined the group and just seemed as though they were from Boston. One of them introduced himself as Tim Flaherty, which seemed familiar to both Lizzie and I, and for the whole tour, we wondering if he was some big-wig at BC (we never did figure out how to ask that without sounding like creepers, though). The group stopped at a bar to grab drinks and pay Antony and then we headed to the Vatican Museums, where the tour started. We looked at a bunch of paintings and what Lizzie decided were "handsome sculptures." We also saw a huge marble bathtub that had belonged to Nero, which I thought was pretty cool. The thing was the size of a swimming pool and made out of a slab of rare purple marble. The museum itself was also very cool and there were lots of mosaic floors and frescoed ceilings. One ceiling was even painted to make it look like it was sculpted. The tour finished off in the Sistine Chapel, which was different than I had imagined it to be. It was much bigger than I had expected and much more elaborate. Every inch was covered with painting and Antony explained some of the story behind its creation. Michelangelo did not like the Pope's Master of Ceremonies, and made him Charon the demon in the huge fresco of the Last Judgement, which is positioned over the altar. Also, he had painted everyone in the Last Judgement nude, which horrified the church, and the Church hired a different painter to come cover everybody up.

After the tour finished, Lizzie and I walked through the crypt under Saint Peter's Basilica, where all the popes and even Saint Peter himself are buried. Then we headed upstairs to see Saint Peter's Basilica itself. The place is gigantic! Everything was huge and really elaborate. We did one and a half loops to get all the pictures we wanted and I stopped in the prayer room for a little while, as well. By this point, my memory card was completely full and Lizzie had to take over as prime photographer.

We left the basilica after a while and after taking a picture with the uniformed Swiss guard we took more pictures from the main piazza. The Vatican's staff is currently setting up for the Christmas masses, so there were a ton of people putting out chairs and programs, setting up huge Christmas trees, and putting together the big outdoor screens. As we were leaving, we passed the fountains that Antony had mentioned on our tour. He said that Rome and the Vatican have some of the best water in the world and that people still drink from these ancient fountains. So I wanted to try. Lizzie took pictures of me while I essentially doused my head in a fountain - they aren't really built for convenient drinking. The water was fine - cold, but good.

We then stopped for lunch at a cafe right outside the ancient Vatican walls. There were a bunch of monks having lunch right outside, so we knew it must be good. We both got potato and thyme pizza, which was really tasty, and after we paid, I was put on map duty to get us back to the Tiber. I was successful in this endeavor and we wandered along, stopping for pictures of the Castel Sant'Angelo and then further along at the Palazzo Di Giustizia. As we were walking along the river we passed an ice-skating rink and another open-air market, where I got this wonderful marzipan, shortbread, ricotta, fruit dessert. Perhaps the best dessert I've had in Europe yet. We also passed what looked to be a giant groundhog chilling in the river and a bird swarm sitting in a tree, making the tree completely black. The tree hung over the path we walking along, and we didn't think anything of it until we heard thudding sounds close to the tree. This was the birds relieving themselves on the sidewalk and on the car parked under the tree. That will be a mess later. Lizzie and I decided to walk around the tree instead of under it. We stopped for another photo shoot near the Palazzo, because there was a nice background of a bridge and good lighting, and reminisced on our time in Europe for a while before heading on.

We then crossed the bridge and headed over to Piazza Popolo, which is another big Piazza with a obelisk and, during this time of year, a big Christmas tree. When we got there, there was a street performer doing Michael Jackson impressions, which was pretty spiffy, and then we walked through another of the big shopping districts back to the Spanish steps. We were chilling for a while at the Steps and watched this parade for heart health go by followed by a marching band with an all-female drum core and all-male flag twirlers.

We then stopped at a McDonalds to use the bathroom but our jaws dropped when we walked in. The place was gigantic and really cool. There were all these side rooms decorated in various styles and it was all really impressive. So we decided we may as well stop for a while. Lizzie got dinner and I got a McFlurry and while we were eating, the woman at the next table turned around and gave us a flyer for another pub crawl. That's something interesting about Rome - they have people advertising everything from tours to pub crawls on the streets and Lizzie and I ran into quite a few of them. We took her flyer and then finished eating. I had been watching the garbage cans in the corner because they were automated and people had been having some problems with them. The one I was watching was so full that it had started spitting trash back out at people. I did not want that to happen to us, hence my careful study of the trash collection area. Two workers eventually came to fix the malfunctioning machine and I told Lizzie that I thought we were safe. We managed to dump our trash without too much trouble and headed back to the hostel. We had decided to go on one of these pub crawls (the one advertised by Tac) and we needed to prepare ourselves.

When we got back to the room, Michelle and Scott were there studying for their last final and we swapped stories about our days, (apparently they had seen us from their tour bus while we were wandering the streets). Lizzie and I got ready and were both a mess. I was trying to put on this sparkly eye stuff but it kept getting all over the bathroom and pretty soon, Lizzie and I were standing in a cloud of sparkles. My hair was also not cooperating and ended up in a ponytail. Very saucy.

We then got back on the metro and headed to the Colosseum, where we were supposed to meet the group. Tac met us in the metro (good thing he recognized us, because I never would have noticed him there) and then we walked to the first bar with two Italians. One proclaimed himself to be a model and the other was a computer science major at one of Rome's universities. They were goofs and I think they had already started their tour of the pubs. So the deal: for 20 euros, we would go to 4 different bars, get free drinks, free pizza, and a free t-shirt. The free t-shirt is what swayed Lizzie and I. At the first bar I made Lizzie order me a Coke every time she went up for a drink and we just chatted with the other kids in the group. Lots of them were just traveling around on their own. It seems that a lot of non-Americans take a year off of school before university and just travel the world for a few months/years (and going to pub crawls, from what I can surmise).

Unfortunately, there weren't very many cuties on this pub crawl - only the bartender and one other Australian guy, but before you know it, we were off to the second bar of the evening. By this time, the two Italians, Margarito and Very Very Awesome, (when Lizzie asked him what his name was, that's what he said - we could get no more information out of him) were completely plastered and needed to be practically carried to the next bar, a process that involved bus transportation, which did not help the situation. I liked the second bar better because there was dancing, and although it was really only kids from the pub crawl, it was still a lot of fun. Afterwards, we moved to the third bar, which also had dancing, although people were becoming more drunk and more annoying.

As we walking to the fourth bar, the cute bartender from the first bar (who is also one of the pub crawl leaders - how's that for a job title?) was walking and talking with Lizzie and I. When we got to the last bar, he told Lizzie and I to wait at the bar because he would buy us a drink. He gave us Long Island Iced Teas, which were really strong, (I ended up hiding mine in a corner of the bar) and then we just talked for a while. His name is Musa and he is half German and half Nigerian. Both of his parents are ambassadors, he speaks 7 languages, and he recently graduated from university with a computer science major, (again - pub crawl leader?). He also mentioned that his parents own a semi-mansion, he played basketball and swam in school, and was moving to a new apartment the next day. We chatted for quite a while.

So I got to dance with Musa all night while poor Lizzie was stuck dancing with Very Very Awesome, who by this point couldn't even keep his eyes open. Musa kept buying me drinks, which I kept hiding in random places and by 3:30, I decided that we needed to go. Musa decided we should go to another bar and so we grabbed Lizzie, (Very Very Awesome followed) and headed down the street. Apparently, Musa knows everyone in Rome, because not only did we get to skip the entire line for this bar because Musa knew the bouncer and owner, we also walked in and about half the bar cheered when they saw him. I felt cool just standing next to him. He also managed to get rid Very Very Awesome, who stormed off down the street. So then he got us all beers, (nasty, plain nasty) and we chilled at that bar until it closed.

He then took the bus with Lizzie and I back to our hostel, saying he wanted to make sure we got home okay (although I believe he had other intentions). He was nice though. If I had actually drank all those drinks he bought for me, I probably would have needed help getting home. But as it so happens, I was the only sober one there, and was actually the one making sure we all weren't plowed down by any Italian drivers. Lizzie and I crashed, seeing as it was about 4:30. Too bad we had to wake up by 8 the next morning.

Día Dos en Roma

2009-12-19T11:14:00.000-08:00

(The Colosseum in Roma, Italia)

Friday, December 11th

We got very little sleep because it turns out that Scott is quite the snorer. The worst I have ever heard, actually. Even I was woken up by the racket he was making and I am a really heavy sleeper. Then Michelle and Scott woke up late and were still using the the shower (separately, of course) when Lizzie and I woke up. While Lizzie finally got her turn in the shower, I met one of the other guys in our room, an Italian who is in acting school in Rome. Then when Lizzie came out, the last person in our room woke up and started talking to us. He was Australian and asked us all sorts of questions about what time things opened in Rome. Then when he actually adjusted to the light, he apologized because he had thought that we were someone else. Lizzie and I then headed downstairs to the hostel's restaurant/bar for breakfast, where I had french toast with bananas and Lizzie, egg and bacon sandwiches. Then we headed for the metro, with me bouncing up and down, because today was Roman Ruins Day! I was quite excited, to say the least. On the schedule were the Colosseum, Palantine Hill, and the Roman Forum. Yay!

The metro was packed, as there are only two lines in Rome. We missed the first train because we weren't standing far enough down the track and the train completely passed us, (we wondered why all the Italians were standing on the other side of the station). We then pushed our way onto the second train, me only getting squished by the doors once.

We got to the Colosseum, but it took us quite a while to find the entrance and then the audio guide booth. We walked around for a good half an hour before we were settled. Even after we had the audio guides we were lost because the audio guide's map didn't seem to correspond to the actual building. We ended up going around the Colosseum backwards and spent more time mimicking the British voices on the audio guides and taking pictures than actually listening to the guides. Two cool things that I remember were that the senators had their own assigned seats with their names actually carved into them and that the floor of the Colosseum had trapdoors so that the gladiators could rise out of the ground. Those Romans were tricky. When we were done with our tour, we again got lost trying to find the exit, and ended up meeting two German boys, who we had passed several times in our search for the door. With our combined four brains, we eventually figured it out.

Next, Lizzie and I were off to Palantine Hill and the Roman Forum, both sites of more Roman ruins. The entrance to Palantine Hill was also tricky to find and we passed these two guys dressed up as gladiators (for touristy photo ops) twice before finding the gate. Here were some of the lines we heard:

"Hey Shakira!"

"Look at those legs!"

"Where are you from? Paradise?"

The last one is my favorite. So after stopping at a stand to buy a Kinder Bar, we got to Palantine Hill, where all the Roman emperors had their palaces. The buildings were roped off though, so you can't go pretend to be an empress, as was my original plan. After a lot of pictures, we walked over to the Roman Forum, which was downtown Rome back in the day. There were so many Roman ruins, I didn't even know were to point the camera first. There were columns, stairs, buildings, arches, and amphitheaters galore, not to mention the supposed tomb of Caesar.

After the Roman Forum, we wandered through Rome a bit more, passing lots of pretty buildings and museums and then found a restaurant for lunch. It had huge windows and high ceilings and as we sat down, two very cute Italian boys were seated next to us. They seemed to know the owner of the place - the owner kept coming over to talk to them (a sign of the mafia, I know). I spent a good five minutes trying to get Lizzie to look at them, but my subtle cues were too subtle. I had pasta carbonara for lunch and Lizzie had lasagna and once we finished, we decided to find dessert elsewhere, and so started the search for tartufo.

Tartufo is an Italian ice-cream dessert, which I had heard about before even coming to Rome. But apparently it is rather tricky to find and for nearly an hour, we searched for a restaurant with tartufo on the menu (once passing the cute Italian boys by chance on the street - Lizzie missed them again). We passed several tourist shops and another open-air market and decided we needed to ask someone about this ice-cream delicacy. We stopped at a shop and Lizzie asked the cashier in English where we could find tartufo. The man said you have to go outside of Rome to find a tartufo place as it isn't very popular in the city. We must have looked confused because he then pointed at his tattooed arm and said, "Tattoos?" We responded that we were looking for tartufo, the ice-cream dessert, not tatuaggio, the painful inking process, and he said he didn't know where to find that. So we stopped at another shop and Lizzie again asked where we could find tartufo. The man didn't understand what she was saying, and when she turned to me for help, I said, "Tartufo!" (in my best Italian accent, complete with Italian hand movements - about as stereotypical as you can get). The man's face lit up and he said, "Oh - tartufo!" although he still didn't know where we could find it. Those Italians - can't speak without their hands.

So we again walked past the Trevi Fountain and managed to find a restaurant with tartufo on the menu. By now, it was about 3 and in between meals, so we were the only ones at the restaurant, except for all the waiters and cooks, who were all smoking at the next table over (another sign of the mafia, yes, I know, but they had tartufo). We ordered (you can guess what) and the waiter brought Lizzie a chocolate tartufo and me and vanilla. They were excellent and worth the time we spent looking for them. We ended up chilling at this restaurant for quite a while, just eating and talking, and an hour and half later we decided we should go be productive. So we left (after paying with handfuls of coins, miscounting by 10 cents, of which the mafia waiter quickly reminded us) and headed in the direction of the Pantheon. We stopped to take pictures of some more Roman columns at my insistence, and ended up talking to this Italian man, who told us that he's lived in Rome his whole life and loves it. After chatting for a bit, we continued on our way, only to be stared at by a creepy, definitely in the mafia man ("Ciao," he said, while staring me down - I ran away) and stopped by another guy, Tac, who was advertising a different pub crawl from the one yesterday. After we listened to his speech, we finally made it to the Pantheon. By this time it was dark, so we didn't see the light shining through the ceiling, but it was pretty spiffy, anyway. We took pictures of all the cool things and then left, deciding to just wander and see what we could find.

The first thing we saw was a Danish store, which had all sorts of Danish Christmas stuff on display. Lizzie (who is a Danish citizen herself) explained some of the stuff to me before we continued on. In Denmark, families hold hands in a circle around the Christmas tree and sing carols. I can't picture my family doing that, so I guess it's a good thing we're not Danish. We then stopped at a high end modern interior design store, where we felt really out of place, and continued north until we hit the Tiber River. We stopped at various churches and passed a weird modern art display set up along the street. We then walked through one of the expensive shopping districts where we saw some street performers (I said: "They would be perfect if they were in Italy. Oh wait. . .") and a book signing for some Italian author neither of us had heard of (he must have been famous though, there was a line around the block).

We then decided that since we hadn't stopped eating all day, why stop now? We started looking for a restaurant for dinner, which was surprisingly hard to do, (I assumed every other building in Italy was a restaurant) and after about a half an hour, finally unearthed one. We were the only ones there, but we ordered calzones, which were gigantic and really good and then we chilled while the owner of the restaurant watched the Italian Who Wants to be a Millionaire on TV. We headed out after paying and suddenly found ourselves at the Trevi Fountain again. We stopped to get crepes (I'm not kidding when I say that we didn't stop eating all day) and I got a lemon and sugar crepe, which was delectable. Lizzie got a banana and Nutella crepe and was a mess before she was halfway through. Those crepes are very leaky and I would have had Nutella all over me if I had ordered Lizze's crepe (I had Nutella all over my arm anyway, which I still haven't figured out. . .)

As we eating by the fountain, four Italians guys appeared out of nowhere and struck up a conversation with the little English they knew, (one comment directed at Lizzie was, "Your eyes are very. . . oriental." They also couldn't keep the words bedroom and bathroom straight, neither of which were acceptable under the circumstances). Their names were Guiseppe, Carlo, Fedele, and Miguel and they were all quite friendly and, I think, a little drunk. Fedele managed to get my phone number out of my phone and soon after, Lizzie and I managed to make an escape to the nearby McDonalds, claiming the need for a bathroom, (even though they offered us the use of both the bedroom/bathroom at their houses).

After hiding in McDonalds for a few minutes and checking out the rooftop terrace (McDonalds in Europe are much nicer than in the US) we slowly snuck back to Trevi, hoping the Italians had gone, (they had interrupted our planned photo shoot). We didn't see them anywhere, so we headed down to the benches near the fountain, which I was creeped out about. Another story Tad had told us on our tour was about a man who had been pushed out the window above the fountain and died. He was the nephew of the Pope at the time, and although the fall had obviously been a murder, the Pope declared it a suicide (as the guy was a bit of a loose cannon, and the Church didn't want anything to do with him). Afterwards, people reported seeing the man's ghost in the window from which he fell and also around the fountain, so the government actually closed off the room and walled up the window, painting the wall to keep the symmetry above the fountain. We had positioned ourselves right in this general location.

We had a nice long photo shoot, in which I used up most of what was left on my memory card and then we walked back to the hostel. In this amount of time, I had already received one phone call and one text from Fedele and since then I have received about 10 more calls and another text which said, "You think me?" I have not answered any of these. Geez, those Italians are persistent.

Día Uno en Roma

2009-12-19T08:33:00.001-08:00

(An open-air market in Roma, Italia)

Well, hello there. As you may have noticed, I am behind on my blogging. Because I didn't have internet access and/or time in Rome and London, I have over a week of fun-filled activities to catch you up on. This may take a while.

Thursday, December 10th

I set my alarm for 3 am because I needed to walk to Lizzie's residencia by 4:45. Unfortunately, I woke up at about 3:45, as I think Morning Gigi has begun to take revenge on the alarm clock. I woke up thinking it was already 4:45 and that the alarm was Lizzie calling me to ask where I was. I was calling Lizzie to apologize when I realized that in fact, I still had an hour before I needed to meet her. I still needed to hurry, though, and had to skip breakfast to make it to Lizzie's on time (which did not improve Morning Gigi's mood). I headed down Paseo de Castellana, passing only one person along the way and turning off only one street lamp (for those of you who don't know - street lamps have a mysterious habit of turning off when I walk under them - it happens a few times each week. Unnerving, I know). I only got lost once and after waiting outside the wrong house for a few minutes, Lizzie appeared out of another door and we hopped in the waiting taxi to the airport.

By the time we got to the airport, the security check-in was open and we got in line. I got through with no problem, but Lizzie's boots kept setting off the alarms. She had to take them off and got back in the end of the line (we were too tired to realize that she could have just walked through the metal detectors again, and not go all the way back to the end of the line - but no worries - we had time to kill). After touring the duty-free stores for a few minutes, we sat down at one of the restaurants for breakfast (a cheese baguette and milk) and a planning session. Then we ran over to the gate and got in the passport/ticket line, with me still clutching my half-eaten baguette. As we were waiting, Lizzie nearly fell over. She had on her huge travel backpack and leaned against an open door which she thought was a wall. She nearly fell through and would have landed on her backpack with her feet in the air - turtle style.

We finally got on the plane and I got a much-needed hour of sleep. We circled the Italian coast, which was really pretty, and landed in Rome. We were wandering through the airport, looking for an exit, when we saw what looked like a promising passport check gate. We got in line, and when we got to the desk and showed the woman our passports, the woman asked us where we were going. We replied that we were going to Rome, and she said, "You're already in Rome. That's the door over there." Oh. So we walked through that door and eventually found the train that would take us to the center of the city. We bought our tickets, which said in about 17 different places that we needed to validate the ticket before use. I suggested to Lizzie that maybe we should investigate this validation process, which seemed to have something to do with the yellow machines that were everywhere. But the ticket was smaller than the machine's slot, and Lizzie didn't want to stick our tickets in and lose them, so she decided we could just get on the train. I did not like this idea, but didn't want to lose my ticket either. The train left and we saw the ticket-man coming up our aisle, checking everyone's tickets. I was terrified - one of my fears in life is the mafia, and my general avoidance strategy has always been to never make an Italian angry. That was about to come to an end. He took our tickets, looked at them, looked at us, and waved them around while saying something in Italian. He then walked away, mumbling in Italian, while my stomach continued to flip.

We got off the train and walked for about five minutes to our hostel. We checked in and went up to our room. It wasn't anything exciting, but the window looked out onto an authentic Italian courtyard, which was nice. We were starved by this point, and walked back out onto the street, looking for a restaurant. We found one and sat down and started perusing the menu. So many pastas, so little time! I decided on gnocchi with meat sauce and Lizzie got a pizza with eggplant. Other items I was choosing between were rigatoni with cheese and chestnuts and a strawberry risotto (which seemed curious enough to be good). We shared a strawberry parfait for dessert and realized we had been at the restaurant for over two hours. The waiter was really friendly and funny and the restaurant was authentic - we were the only ones speaking English. We then walked back to the hostel to have the front desk people look over our plans and help us decide what we should do that day. The woman at the hostel eliminated almost everything on our schedule, saying things were too far, closed, or boring. But she did help us create a new plan, and sent us on our way. We also signed up for the night tour of Rome, which we would do later that night.

So we headed towards central Rome to get ourselves oriented. We passed some old Roman ruins, about which I was pretty excited, (Lizzie tells me I have an obsession with Roman ruins, which I feel is completely understandable) and found an open air market. We looked through all the stands and had a nice long conversation with these two guys who were selling ties. We also asked them how to say all the important phrases in Italian, so they were quite helpful. We kept walking, stopping at a church and some fountains. We eventually found the Spanish Steps, and chilled there for a while. Apparently, for about a month in Rome, there are these bird swarms reminiscent of Hitchcock's Birds, but less violent. It has something to do with the weather, but thousands of birds meet up in Rome and fly in swarms around the city. So from the Spanish Steps, we had this great overview of the city, complete with the clouds of birds. We were approached by an Australian who was trying to get Lizzie and I to come to a pub crawl that night and then by a boy from Louisiana who had been trailing us for a while, (who I think was just lonely and heard some English-speakers). We looped back around towards Piazza Repubblica (the main square in Rome) and stopped for dinner on Via Nazionale. I got a pasta carbonara and Lizzie got a pizza with Italian ham (that was bigger than the plate on which it was served). Yay for Italian food!

We then waited in front of the church, Santa Maria degli Angeli, (which used to be a Roman bath-house/recreation center) for the night tour to start. The tour guide was already there, and introduced himself as Tad, who is also from the US. A few more people showed up, (two Australian guys and another American) and off we went. I really liked the tour (we saw the Fontana del Tritone, Fontana del Trevi, Spanish Steps, some obelisks - there are more in Rome than in all of Egypt, and the Hotel Bernini from The DaVinci Code, among other things), because Tad didn't just talk about the history, he talked about all sorts of interesting stuff, too. For example, at the bottom of the Spanish Steps, there is a statue of a ship, which was created because the French and Spanish embassies (both nearby), couldn't decide whether a French or Spanish monument should be built there, so they eventually agreed upon a ship, as the area flooded frequently (this was only one of the many arguments held between the French and Spanish embassies, who weren't the best of friends). At the top of the Spanish steps is a large obelisk, which was put in place using huge cranes. It was one man's job to make sure the whole thing was centered, and when he gave the command to drop the obelisk, he sneezed and grabbed the base of the obelisk to hold his balance. Unfortunately, the obelisk then dropped on his hand, which the workers had to cut off, and which is still stuck in the obelisk under a whole lot of plaster and detail work. Another story is at the Piazza Navona, where the famous 17th century sculptor/architect Bernini and his arch-nemesis Borromini were both given building contracts. Bernini was mad that Borromini got a contract for an entire church when all Bernini got was a contract for a fountain in the piazza. So the figures on his fountain are shielding their eyes so that they don't have to look at the atrocious church and also have their hands out as if to protect themselves from the church's fall. The only figure on the church is also built so that she doesn't need to look at the ugly fountain.

Our tour ended in the Piazza Navona, and Lizzie and I stopped in a bar for the bathroom, where it turns out that the bartender was Canadian - so we talked for a while. Then we headed back out to Piazza Navona and looked through all the stalls that were set up for a Christmas festival. Then we decided we wanted hot chocolate and actually found a place right on the man street. We sat down and ordered hot chocolate with limoncello (I was disappointed to find out that this establishment had ruined all of their hot chocolates by putting liquors in them). We got one right away, but after 10 minutes, they still hadn't given us the second drink. I went up to the counter and got the waitress' attention, but when she came over, I realized that I didn't know any of the relevant words in Italian. I stared at her and said, "No. . ." and she then said that she spoke English. But then I couldn't remember any of my English words, either, so that was a problem. Eventually I got the message across and she brought us our other hot chocolate. I don't know how you mess up hot chocolate, but these drinks were nasty. The chocolate tasted burnt and the limoncello didn't help anything. We paid and left without finishing.

We caught a bus back to the hostel, which was terrifying. Italian drivers are not inhibited by the fact that they are driving full-sized buses, so Lizzie and I were holding on for dear life. When we got back to our room at the hostel, we met two of the other kids in our room, Scott and Michelle, two American students that Lizzie knew from one of her classes at Carlos III. Go figure. By this point, we were exhausted and pretty much passed out right away.

¡Mis Pruebas Son Acabadas!

2009-12-09T13:24:00.000-08:00

(A view of El Mercado de San Miguel in Madrid, Spain)

I have finished my last final. I am done. Todos de mis cosas son acabadas. Hurrah! I'll give you a quick update on the past week:

Sunday: I got up early this morning because I wanted to go to mass at one of the big cathedrals in Madrid. I ended up picking La Basilica de San Francisco el Grande, which has the largest dome of any church in Spain. I called ahead to see which masses had music (surprisingly, none of the masses I've been to yet have had music) and was told the 12:30 mass would be accompanied. So I got to the area at about 10, so that I would have time to explore.

The metro let me off in a big, circular plaza that had 5 roads branching off in different directions, which I new was a recipe for disaster. My map-reading skills have gotten worse since being in Spain, and I can't seem to find anything anymore. So I tried the first road, which looked promising, but realized that wasn't right, so then from that, I figured out which direction I was supposed to take. I walked down the second street and found the tale-end of El Rastro, which was not supposed to be there. I checked my map again and discovered I had been heading away from the Cathedral. But I wandered around El Rastro a bit and found a nearby park that had an old steam-stack still standing in the middle. So after taking some pictures of the park, I headed back in the other direction and started walking towards the road I needed. Turns out it wasn't the road I needed, but I did find the correct street on my fourth try. Fourth try out of five roads - it could have been worse.

So I walked down the correct road (luckily in a straight line now) and found the basilica. There was a nice little park next door with a nice view of the city, so I took some pictures there, as well. And since I still had time to explore, I kept going and ended up finding another really pretty park that was on a sloping hill and had a really cool view of a nearby bridge. I also saw another huge cathedral on the other side of the park and walked over to see which cathedral that was. I nearly got myself stolen in the process. I was about halfway up a trail when I noticed that behind every tree was a big gangster-looking fellow. All of them seemed to be watching me and I got a little nervous. So I put on my don't-mess-with-me face and made it out of the woods alive. Whew!

I got to the second cathedral where a gypsy tried to talk me out of my money - but if I can handle woods filled with gangsters, than I can handle a gypsy woman. The church was closed to tourists as it was Sunday and masses were being conducted, but I realized I was at La Catedral de la Almudena, the cathedral right next to El Palacio Real. I thought El Palacio was on the other side of the city. So I toured around a bit and found another whole area that I had been to before. Go figure. I did some souvenir shopping and then happened across this cool marketplace, El Mercado de San Miguel. It reminded me of Fanueil Hall in Boston, with a lot of little shops, so it was a neat find. Then I wandered a bit more and ended up in La Plaza Mayor. Again, I had no idea how close all of these places were to each other - maybe my map is printed backwards. . .

I then headed back to the basilica, and the place was gorgeous. There is a huge fresco ceiling and statues everywhere. I was surprised to see that it's not a classic Romanesque cathedral, which has a long nave and transept that intersect in a cruciform positioning (don't I sound smart after taking my Art History class!). The whole church is essentially under the dome, which is something I've never seen before. The music was just a man at a keyboard and a single singer (I would have sang, but they don't seem to give out hymnals in Madrid). There was a huge organ, and I don't know why they weren't using that, but it was still nice to hear some music.

After mass, I headed back to the metro, passing a really sketchy carnival that was set up in a small square. I got back to Julia's and then did work for the rest of the day (paper, studying, and internship applications - wahoo).

Monday/Tuesday: I was pretty much a hermit. Julia and I had an interesting conversation, though. We were talking about how my family's going to need to go shopping for food on Christmas Eve, and she was saying that most everything is closed in Spain on Christmas Eve. I mentioned that even on Christmas Eve, WalMart is open in the US, but she had never heard of WalMart. I was trying to explain the superstore concept, and when I finished Julia said, "Like Saks?" I said, "Yeah, kind of. . ." Oh, Julia. How much there is to learn about America.

Julia and I have been bonding though. We had a heart to heart about about how nervous we both were on my first day here and she seems to be opening up a bit. She showed me the Christmas lights she had put up on her gigantic acacia tree and even pointed out some pictures of Alexandra and Maria when they were little. We are making strides, Julia and I.

Today: Got up early and studied and then headed to Carlos III for my economics test. The professor decided it would be an oral final, so thank goodness this is my English class. I ran into James, who was taking the same test, and we walked to school from the train together. When we got to the classroom, our friend, Liz, was in with the professor taking her test. She was in for quite a while and me and James were getting nervous, especially when James peeked in the window and saw that the professor had Liz explaining graphs. This was an oral test, which was supposed to eliminate graphs! Liz came out and James went in, so I was left to my own nervousness. About 10 minutes later James came out and didn't seem too horrified, so that was a good sign.

I walked in and sat down in the row of desks the professor was using. He kept switching back and forth between seats and seemed more nervous than me. He explained to me that he had to record the test and how the structure would work. Essentially, he would ask a broad question and the depth of my answers would determine my grade. So he first asked me about convergence and Malthusianism, and I was all over both of those. He seemed impressed and told me I had a perfect score so far. Then he showed me a comparative advantage chart and a picture of a factory - I nailed those, too. He said he didn't need to go any further because it was obvious I knew everything. I agreed. Total test time: 6 minutes. Not bad.

Then I printed my boarding passes for Rome and London and ran into Guillermo in the computer lab. It's hard to say goodbye to these Spaniards, because I might never see them again. It's scary how that works. Then I decided that I needed a haircut and looked up a Peluqueria near Julia's house. The phone call to schedule the appointment was strenuous. As soon as I started talking, I realized that I didn't know the word for haircut, so I ended up saying things like, "I have long hair, I want short hair," and then "The thing you do with scissors." She seemed confused - I thought it was quite self-explanatory. What else would I call a Peluqueria for?

I stopped at Corte Inglés on the way home to buy a book for my trips (I figured that when I'm in London by myself, I might have some reading time on my hands. . .). Then it was back to Julia's and off to Peluqueria Manuel Aranda. I got really nervous when I walked by the place the first time - it looked pretty fashionable and I was wearing my sneakers. So I did a loop around the nearby park, plucked myself up, and headed on in. They sat me down with this guy who looked like quite the diva, so that didn't help my nerves at all. He asked me what I wanted to do with my hair, and I showed him a picture of myself over the summer. So after my wash, cut, and dry did I look like my picture? Of course not. But it is a nice haircut and much less scraggly than it was before. So it's a success.

Then it was back to Julia's for dinner (tuna in tomato sauce) and packing for Rome and Italy. I have mastered the art of packing for a 4-day trip in just a backpack - which I consider to be a major accomplishment. Alexandra stopped by after dinner, as it is her birthday tomorrow. Even though Alexandra has been unemployed for months now because of the economic crisis, Julia told me that she's been in Rio de Janeiro, with what I thought was some sort of paid position. So I asked Alexandra what she's been up to and she said, "Playing some sports, looking at beautiful places." It's tough being unemployed in a millionaire's world.

So tomorrow I'm off to Rome with Lizzie for 4 days and then I'm heading to London for 3 days by myself, (just me and a map - what could go wrong?). Yay for pasta and British accents! Talk to you all when I get back!

¡Más fotografías!

2009-12-05T15:56:00.000-08:00

I've uploaded two new albums to my Shutterfly site - a November album, (sorry about the Retiro photoshoot in this one - quite a few pictures are dedicated to my friends' and my modeling skills) and a December album.

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

Enjoy!

Pasada de Moda en Madrid

2009-12-05T13:52:00.000-08:00

(A view of El Parque de Rodríguez Sahagún in Madrid, Spain)

Well, seeing as I set my alarm for 8:30, I didn't get up until 10 this morning. I had a dream that Julia was mad at me because I forgot to lock the door and someone had broken into the house. I asked her what was stolen, and she wouldn't tell me. I also dreamt (in a separate dream) that the family was here and we were touring around Spain - I'm so excited for them to come!

Best part of my day: I had a muffin for breakfast. And it was great. I was recently telling Julia about how someday I'm going to open a muffin shop, (which was difficult because I did not know the word for muffin and it wasn't in the dictionary, so my story turned into pictionary, and my drawing resembled a tree more than a muffin) and yesterday she came home from the store with muffins (magdalenas, for future reference). I'll need that later when I franchise to Spain.

Then I worked on my Economics paper - those Japanese had a very complicated industrialization. Of course, I'm going to be way over on the word limit, like usual, and because the professor wants us to send him a .doc version, I'm going to need to actually cut things out. I generally just change the margins, but because he'll be able to see the word count, I probably shouldn't be a 1,000 words over. Bother.

Then I had lunch with Julia (pasta - mmm. . .) and went back to working on my paper/checking my e-mail every 5 minutes to see if anyone had sent me anything that could be used as a distraction. Julia told me she was going to a dinner that night, so that I could eat whenever I wanted, so when she left I decided to go on a walk first. There was already a woman in the elevator when I got in and as we were going down, I noticed that she was wearing a Prada coat and carrying a Louis Vouitton purse. So not only did I feel like a giant, (because European elevators are really small and she was one of those petite types) I also felt really underdressed, (I was wearing my wool Alaska socks and Nike Airs - and although I was wearing my snazzy scarf, it did not match any of the aforementioned items).

But anyway, I like walking around Madrid at night and wanted to see some of the Christmas lights, so I just meandered around Julia's neighborhood a bit. I passed the Mallorca bakery Julia's told me about (I will definitely be making a trip back there) and ended up in Casa, a home decorating store. They had all their Christmas stuff out, but I started with the kitchen supply section, where I spent a good half an hour. I nearly bought a pack of heart-shaped mini-cupcake silicon molds (the fastest I've moved all day is when I saw them) but then thought to myself, "Gee, what is the purpose of making a cupcake smaller and heart-shaped? P.S. You don't even like cupcakes!" (It has to do with the frosting and the messiness - cupcakes are inefficiently designed - the frosting should go in the middle, as it will be in my muffin store someday). So my physical self obeyed my mental self and reluctantly put them back. I did end up buying some Christmas ornaments because they had little snow-globes I liked.

I got back to Julia's and after working on my internship applications, I had dinner (hotdogs and potato puree - both items seem to be quite popular in Spain) in my room, while watching The Santa Clause on my computer. I was quite content.

Julia came back from her dinner a few minutes ago wearing a fur-lined cape. Not many people can pull that look off and she can, so I'll give her that (although I do not support the amount of fur she has in her closet, which I highly doubt is faux). She's very well dressed and I've decided that her clothing budget is through the roof.

Now, as pictures didn't happen yesterday (I had an hour and a half long conversation with the family instead) - I'm going to do that right now.

Una Noche en Kapital

2009-12-04T13:59:00.000-08:00

(The entrance to Kapital in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday, I didn't wake up until 11:30. What's even greater is that I woke up on my own, without an alarm clock annoyingly blaring in my ear. After breakfast, I read a few articles for my Economics paper, and then ate lunch with Julia. We had a nice long chat about braces, of all things, (I picked up some new vocabulary there). Then I went back to pretending to be productive. Julia and Paquita had been talking about how nice it was outside, and when I got bored of doing work, I decided to go for a walk before dinner. I checked Google maps (because I can't be trusted to find anything on my own) and found a park that looked about half an hour away and a route that didn't involve making any turns (the only way I won't get lost).

So I headed out, wearing my new scarf, which makes me feel awfully snazzy. It was pretty windy, though, and my new scarf kept blowing into my face, which detracted from my snazziness. I got to El Parque de Rodríguez Sahagún - which was right where I thought it would be - and walked around for a bit. There were lots of people walking their dogs, some joggers, and a few couples playing Bocce Ball (P.S. When writing this I didn't know what the name of the game was, so I went to Google and doubtfully typed in, "italian sport balls court old people" and it came right up). I climbed up a hill and from the top, got a view of Madrid I wasn't expecting. Madrid seems to be built on somewhat of a hill, so their were sloping views off into the distance.

It was getting dark, and after taking some pictures of the view, I walked back down to the park. I saw a jogger coming towards me on the path and didn't pay him any attention until I saw that he was wearing a black mask. It looked like a creepy mask, too. I almost dropped my camera and ran in the other direction. But because (apparently) I would rather get stolen by a scary man in a black mask than actually break into a run, I just froze right there in the middle of the sidewalk. He got closer and I realized that it was just a black ski mask and that he had no evil intentions. Still, it was not cold enough to warrant the use of such an alarming ski mask. I also learned that I'll be a dead duck if anyone ever tries to steal me. . .

I got back to Julia's and ate dinner (calamari and rice) by myself because Julia was off at a concert. I ate quickly because I had to get ready for the one-and-only 7-story discotheque, Kapital! The place is a must-do in Madrid for discotheque loving types, and as I am of the discotheque loving variety, I was pretty excited. Lizzie, my intercambio Jennifer, and her friend Sara, and I were all getting together for the occasion. We were meeting at 10 for tapas, so I met Lizzie at Nuevos Ministerios and we took the train to Atocha. We all headed over to the tapas bar, which is one of Jennifer's favorites.

In most tapas bars in Madrid, you order drinks and then get free food, so Jennifer ordered a pitcher of sangria for the table and we got a plate of sandwiches on the side. There were three different kinds of sandwiches which were all good - hotdogs and cheese, jam and cheese, and a tomato spread. The sangria was surprisingly good, too. Lizzie is a connoisseur of sangria, so whenever she orders a glass, I get to try a sip and learn from a professional. She actually didn't like this one as much because you couldn't taste the wine, but in my records, it's the best one we've tried yet. I finished my first glass and it was refilled so that we could empty the first pitcher and get a second, which would result in a second plate of food - patatas bravas (essentially french fries with a topping of an aioli sauce and a spicy sauce). We plowed through that and the ladies were saying that the second pitcher of sangria was even sweeter than the first. So I finished my second glass of sangria so that I could try the new one (groundbreaking, I know). It was tastier, but I stopped after half a glass on principle. Glasses of sangria: 2.5. Effects: Nada (apparently, those beers given to me as a child by Dziad upped my tolerance more than I would have expected).

Then at about midnight - Kapital! We could have gotten in for free (we were on the list - Jennifer knows one of the bouncers) but we ended up paying 15 euros for admittance and two "free" drinks. Since the drinks at Kapital are upwards of 12 euros, it was a better deal. I knew that by six in the morning, I'd be wanting a Coke, too. Here's an outline of how that conversation usually goes:

Me: "A Coke, please."

Bartender: "With what?"

Me: "A glass and two ice cubes."

So we paid and got in. We were pretty early, so there was no one there and we had the place to ourselves for some photo shoots. We toured all 7 stories and then ended up in the karaoke room (Lizzie and Jennifer are big fans). There was literally no one there, so even I went once with Lizzie. We had to sing Brittany Spears, though, because it was about the only song on the list that I knew. I've accepted that I'm a failure at popular culture and have moved on.

Once people started to arrive we started dancing. One of the bartenders gave us free tequila shots, but I was not drinking that nasty stuff. Then we danced until 6 am. Kapital had lots of cool rooms to explore (which included the top floor, where during the summer, they open the roof and you can see the stars all night from the lounges and beds (?) that are set up all over the place), and on the main dance floor they have go-go dancers and this huge air-conditioning blower thing that they turn on in bursts that blows your clothes and hair all over the place (if only I had my snazzy scarf). There weren't too many people there because it was Thursday night, so no cuties, but plenty of friendly non-cuties that were promptly dismissed. Yay for Kapital!

Jennifer and Sara left at 5:30, when the last night-bus took off, but Lizzie and I stayed and danced until 6. We hopped on the train and I got back to Julia's at about 6:45 and was in bed by 7. I slept until 2 and woke up in time for lunch (eggplant/tomato something - really good). Julia and I talked for a bit and she even told me sit with her on the couch because I was conversing so well. But then she had to leave because her sister called and told her about a sale on meat at the butcher's. She ran off with wallet in hand. I worked all afternoon on Economics and then had dinner. Ever since it's been Christmas music and picture uploading. I'll see if I can get some up tonight.

Una Semana de Exámanes

2009-12-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

(The view from inside El Palacio de Cristal in El Parque del Retiro)

I have only one exam and one paper left. Yippee!! I have had a constant stream of essays and tests for the past three days, therefore, I haven't seen sunlight (quite literally) for about a week as I have been closed in my room with the blinds shut to prevent distraction. Oh, finals week - how you deprive me of Vitamin D.

Saturday and Sunday: I legitimately did not leave my room, except to take exciting trips to the kitchen or bathroom. Memorizing all of Spanish history in Spanish is not fun - they have much more history than the US does and have been conquered way too many times. Plus, all the Muslim Emirs have practically the same name: Abderrahman I, Abderrahman II, Abderrahman III, Alhakem, Almanzor, and Almudatar, to name a few. Plus, since this class is an art history class, I needed to memorize all the art and architecture styles, important people, and dates of every time someone took a paintbrush to lienzo. And, as a matter of fact, I don't even know what lienzo is in English! Linen? Canvas? Can't be sure.

Monday: I had my Spanish grammar test today. I had memorized all of my tenses, (which were taking up valuable space that was needed for El Siglo del Oro) and was ready to go. I took a couple of online quizzes for practice and then noticed that I hadn't yet taken the Commands with Pronouns section. So I quickly answered the 20 questions and submitted my test for scoring. I got 15 out of 20 wrong. I nearly had a heart attack. With about 3 minutes until I needed to leave for my test, I had no time to further cram these answers into my head, and was now hyperventilating. I ran to the metro with notes in hand, trying to memorize the rules for the conjugations, which I had thought were already filed away nicely in some corner of my brain. I got to the test in a panic and decided to stop studying and gave myself a pep-talk, instead. We were handed our tests and for the first three pages I couldn't remember anything as my heart rate was way too high for concentration. By page four, I started to calm down and concentrate, and I think by the end of the test, I had figured almost everything out. Commands with Pronouns wasn't even on there.

Tuesday: I had to get up pretty early to go hand in my Historia del Presente paper. Six pages, in Spanish, on pollution and recycling in Spain. It's some pretty scintillating stuff. Next was my Spanish composition test. The test consisted of 5 essays to be written in Spanish, which were conveniently phrased so that we had to use all our different tenses. Teachers can be tricky that way. Luckily for me, the test was open-note, and two of the test essays were very similar to ones we had written earlier in the semester (which had been corrected and handed back to us). I simply had to re-copy my notes. I can only hope that the test went well, because it is my personal belief that one cannot just magically change their writing style; in their first language and especially in a second language that they can't even remember the conjugations for. So I went home afterwards and studied for Ana's final (the art history one) by pacing around my room and memorizing my study sheets. I made it to about 2 am (having slept for only 4 hours the night before, as well) before deciding that I needed to sleep and could finish studying the next morning. So I set my alarm for 4:30 and went to bed.

Today: I woke up with my alarm, turned on the light, and fell back asleep. Shoot. I woke up at 7:23 and needed to leave for my test by 7:30. Shoot. I skipped a shower, breakfast, and most importantly: studying! I passed another stressful metro ride pouring over my notes. I got to class just in time and Ana handed us our test packets, which consisted of 6 photos (paintings, floorplans, and photos of buildings). We needed to write a short essay about the artistic and historic context of 5 of them. We only had an hour and a half, which would have been barely enough time for me to write those essays in English, and this test needed to be in Spanish, por supuesto. So I just put nouns next to verbs next to some random conjugations and prepositions. I hope it's at least readable.

I then took the train with Kevin to Carlos III, because I wanted to print out some sources for my Economics paper that's due next week. But first, I had meetings with two of my Intercambios, Rosy and Ivy. Rosy and I had lunch, and good thing, as I was starved. She asked me for help with her English homework - of which I knew very little. She asked me why we say, "Having played sports for 10 years. . ." and then, "I would have liked if my parents had taught me. . ." and I had no idea where to go with that. So learning English is hard, too, (it made me feel somewhat accomplished). I then met with Ivy, and she took me to a hot chocolate café. Yay! I got a white hot chocolate and it was delicious - it came with a cookie (a cracker) and gummy bears. The only problem was that everyone in that place was smoking, including Ivy, and I came out of there smelling like an ashtray. Eek.

I had to go to the library quickly, because I realized my books where overdue (by only a day). I checked the online system to see what the fines where, and it said 2 euros per book per day. I thought that was a bit steep so I scurried on over to the library to hand in the one book I had with me (I have three out altogether). Turns out it's not a 2 euro fine, but a 2 day restriction on taking out books in the future. If I had known that, I would have kept it for another week. I then went to the computer lab in an attempt at productivity, but it wasn't happening. I switched to a different building, to see if I could focus better there, but no such luck. I walked back to the train and I've not done much since. I worked on some internship applications, studied 2 chapters for my economics test next week (a subject in English - hurrah!), and eaten dinner with Julia.

Tidbits I've learned about Spain this week:

1.) Catholic Spain refuses to acknowledge the existence of Santa Claus, so Spaniards do not get presents on December 25th. Rather, they get/give presents on January 6th (Epiphany) that are delivered by the Three Wise Men. And instead of leaving out cookies, they leave out shoes filled with straw for the camels. Maybe that's where the whole cookie problem started.

2.) Spaniards don't believe in heating their homes. It is frigid outside and I have a huge bay window in my room with a metal frame (that acts like a big ice cube). Therefore, my room is frigid, as well. The radiator is barely on and the other day, I came back from Carlos III and found that Paquita had left my window open. It was probably 50 degrees. This was good in that it kept me awake while studying, but bad in the fact that my hands were so purple I couldn't write anything.

3.) The Christmas light displays in Madrid are extensive, but are not kept on for very long. This is because there is a currently an energy crisis and they need to save money. But what I don't understand is why they then turn the lights on at 6 pm, when everybody is still at work.

4.) Foreign credit cards cannot be used to purchase metro passes. The ticket machines will reject your card no matter how many times you attempt to force it into the slot. If you do not have enough cash on you to purchase your month pass on the first of December, you will have to count your coins until you reach 4 euros which will buy you a round-trip ticket to Parla. Also, you should note that if you are going to Carlos III, you do not need to buy a round-trip ticket all the way to Parla, because you get off at Las Margaritas. A round-trip ticket to Las Margaritas is only 2 euros. Some of us have learned this the hard way.

I am going to sleep now. Finally.

¡Qué Semana!

2009-11-27T14:25:00.000-08:00

(El Estadio de Santiago Bernabeu in Madrid, Spain)

Yikes! I'm getting behind on my blogging. Let's see if I can remember any of what I did this past week. . .

Monday: My Spanish class was cancelled on Monday and Tuesday (the professor had a family emergency), so I had to inform Julia that I would be around for lunch. Now if you remember, the last time this occurred, it ended with me in tears, so I was a tad nervous as I walked into the salon. But she handled it quite well, I thought, (maybe because Ines was there) and a few hours later we sat down for lunch. I had to head off right away to meet my new Intercambio, Rosy. She is a PhD student in computer science working on her thesis, which she said might be as long as 1,000 pages (I don't know that many words in Spanish and English put together and repeated seven times). It turns out that Rosy is from Mexico, and we ended up chatting for a solid hour about how abrupt and rude Spaniards are. She even brought it up! So there seems to be an official difference in mannerisms between the mother country and all of us poor colonized schmucks. . .

Tuesday: I had Historia del Presente this morning and was thoroughly annoyed that other people were saying that they had already started their essays (due in one week). I hadn't done anything for my paper but bookmark about 17 websites on my Internet browser and print out some newspaper articles about recycling. So after class, I stuck around campus and got all my sources together and made an outline so that I felt accomplished. I got back to Julia's in time for lunch (ham rolls and lentils) and then plunked myself down and started writing. I had planned to write about pollution: land, air, and water, but by 10 pm, I had finished writing about just land and my paper was 3/4 long enough. Unlike the average time-saving student I did not decide to stretch what I had, rather, I decided to delete about half of what I had and go back and write about air and water, too. I think it's things like this that make my stress level so high.

Wednesday: Today was the last day of Ana's class. We we were all hoping for some guidance in studying for the final. We've covered all of Spain's history plus a good amount of the relevant art that goes along with it. She's told us that we will be shown 6 slides and will need to write a mini-essay for 5 of them - in Spanish, of course. Someone asked if the slides would just be paintings we've seen, and she responded that the slides could be anything, from buildings, to paintings, to pictures of people. Gulp. After class, we all had to run to our last 2 hour Historia class. I spent a good deal of the class reading about the economic history of Japan. Historia, as a class, really isn't designed very well. We write an essay about a topic of our choosing as our only grade - there is absolutely no incentive to go to class, (except to learn, I guess, or read economics articles). I ate lunch with Lizzie in Getafe, (I had brought ham rolls and peppers from home) and then we toured the nearby supermarket before I had to run back to Spanish class. The professor told us that the class was essentially finished and that no new information would be on our final, so that was a relief. But then she told us she's giving us back our last tests, but that first we were going to work in pairs, take the test again, and correct those tests in class as review. Now, when I take a test, I like to write down everything I know, hand the test in, and not think about it again until I see my grade. I am very superstitious with tests and have a whole process worked out. I do not like to be tortured by having to take the test a second time and wonder twice whether I had put down the correct answers or not. It was an agonizing class for me. But I did fine, so I just want to get through the final. Then I had my weekly meeting with Jennifer - the Spanish week - a little rough, but still good. We discussed frosting, which apparently is another thing that I am going to have to introduce to the Spanish culture. Jennifer and I decided to have a baking fiesta next week, so I can demonstrate another of the wonders of America to her. We then walked back to the train and got churros con chocolate (they have set up a semi-sketchy churros stand set up in the parking lot of the train station). Then I had to hurry home and change because I was off to the Real Madrid vs. Zurich fútbol game at the Santiago Bernabeu stadium! A bunch of people were going and we were meeting at TGIF's for dinner beforehand. I grabbed my Real Madrid bufanda (Spanish for a scarf) and walked to the restaurant. We all sat and ate - I had chicken fingers (which were exorbitantly priced - 11 euros), and almost felt like I was back at one of the BC football games (I do miss BC's chicken fingers). We then headed to our gate. There were people everywhere - Real Madrid is the biggest team in Madrid and one of the biggest teams in Spain and it was rumored that Christiano Ronaldo (currently the highest paid fútbol player in the world) was playing for the first time since his injury. We climbed to our seats - the only ones we could afford were high enough to make the field look like a fuse-ball table - and started unlayering (although it was pretty cold outside, the stadium has these huge overhead heaters, and we were right up there next to them). The game was fun to watch - it goes much faster than football - and Real Madrid won 1-0. And Ronaldo played, which was probably the most exciting part. Lizzie and I walked around afterwards and ended up going back to Julia's apartment. Julia and Ines were both asleep, but we tiptoed around as I gave her the tour. The house is practically a museum. Then Lizzie went home and I tried to get some work done, but since it was about midnight, not much was accomplished.

Thursday: Happy Thanksgiving! I had my last CEH class today (the classes for Americans) and only have 2 or 3 econ classes left (a Grados class - for Spanish kids - they go longer). After class, all the BC kids met at the Prado for Ana's tour (just packing in another 20 paintings or so for our test which is in less than a week). It is interesting to actually get an explanation of the paintings, though, so I enjoyed the tour. Then when that was finished, it was off to Thanksgiving dinner! The BC program booked us all a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at the Cornucopia restaurant (?) so we all had turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing (2 servings for me - Lizzie didn't like hers), spinach, cranberry sauce, and walnut bourbon pie. Satisfactory, but still not like home. There are quite a few BC families visiting over Thanksgiving break, so it was nice to meet friends' parents and see how similar they look to their parents. It was a good time, but I missed everyone back home. Then Lizzie and I walked to Plaza de España and took the metro to Nuevos Ministerios. We ended up walking to McDonald's for McFlurries and chatting for a solid 2.5 hours (sitting on a bench outside in the rain after McDonals's started to close). I then hopped back on the metro and got to Julia's by midnight and turned out some more of my Historia paper.

Today: I studied. I have not even seen daylight because my blinds have been shut to prevent distraction. I only left the room for lunch, dinner, and bathroom breaks, so I would like to think I was somewhat productive. I studied for my Spanish final (on Monday and Tuesday), wrote more of my Historia paper (due Tuesday) and studied for Ana's final (on Wednesday). Still plenty to do and I don't think I will be leaving the room the rest of this weekend, unless I run out of food and need to go to the supermarket. I'm always a wreck during finals, so it's best for me to just remove myself from society for a few days. But I'm currently in quite a good mood, because since Thanksgiving is over, I can officially start listening to Christmas music. I had started within four hours of finishing my turkey. I have more Christmas songs on my iPod than non-Christmas songs, so I need to get started right away. Sometimes I burst out in song, which probably alarms the neighbors, but since I'm under finals stress, I think it's completely acceptable. Currently playing: White Christmas from "Christmas Sing with Frank and Bing." Love it!

Día Tres con Las Amigas

2009-11-25T17:53:00.001-08:00

(Me, Lauren, and Melinda at La Puerta del Sol in Madrid)

Sunday: We gave ourselves an extra hour this morning and didn't meet until 10:15 at La Tirso de Molina, the metro stop closest to the girls' hostel and El Rastro. Before heading to El Rastro, we stopped at the Starbucks in Sol, as the girls were craving the muffins and coffee that isn't available in Parma. I got a chocolate muffin and a small hot chocolate, so I was content.

We then walked to the Rastro while having a conversation about the spirit world (is that what people call it?). Melinda's aunt is a medium and/or exorcism-er (she has a collection of possessed items in a tunnel in her house). I told Melinda I have a possessed iHome and two computer speakers to add to the collection (the iHome turns on by itself and slides back and forth between different radio channels and you can hear voices talking in my speakers when they're not even plugged into the computer). Me and technology - it's a fun relationship. Lauren said her parents have been to a couple group medium events and that her mom is convinced about the spirit world. It was an interesting chat.

El Rastro was as crowded as ever, but Lauren managed to find a cool sweatshirt and a belt. We walked around for a while, looking at all the stuff for sale and all the people, and then got on the metro and hopped over to El Banco de España, a good place for tourist pictures. One woman asked me to take her and her friends' pictures and even showed me exactly where to hold the camera. I moved a little on the first one and she made me take another. So afterwards, I had her take our picture. Then we walked to El Prado and wandered through the different exhibits. The place is huge and I know very little about art, but with Ana's class, I'm starting to pick up a little bit more, and art museums are becoming a little bit more interesting (although I think I still prefer the science museums).

After the Prado we were outside, walking back towards Banco de España when we saw a lady in a green trench coat running and jumping on the benches that line the street. We didn't find anything strange in this, as just yesterday, we were rolling down hills in Retiro, so we're not really in the position to judge. I became alarmed, when a little bit further down the sidewalk, we saw her on top of one of the streetlamps, feeling the lightbulb. She jumped down and we noticed that she was just wearing a trench coat and boots, nothing else. She then ran over to one of the street vendors and licked one of the paintings he had on display. He shooed her away really quickly so she turned around and started following a woman who was walking towards the Prado. The second woman had no idea she was being followed and having her hair sniffed by this other lady. By this point we had stopped in our tracks and were just watching her, trying to figure out whether she was un poco loca or on drugs. She ran over to a low billboard advertising the Prado and felt the lips of the woman in the advertised painting. We decided she was a little crazy. She kept running around and following people, and then she ran off up some stairs. Very strange - incredibly strange. We kept walking, me a little nervous that we were being followed by the lady in the green trench coat.

We got to Pans & Company for lunch, a wonderful place that I've mentioned quite a few times before. It's just a fast food sandwich shop, but it is fantastic. During lunch, we got onto the subject of Melinda's pageant past, which I had known nothing about. Apparently, she won one of California's scholarship pageant competitions (which is more prestigious than the beauty competitions), and had she not moved to North Carolina, would have been in the running for Miss California. She had walking training and interview questions and everything. That's pretty cool.

After a quick stop at Haagen-Daaz, we took the metro back to the hostel and the girls checked out. We headed to the airport and off they flew back to Italy (which they love, by the way. I'm a bit jealous of their food situation, to say the least). I took the metro back to Julia's and although I tried to be productive, I promptly fell asleep at my computer, an occurrence which probably had something to do with only getting nine hours of sleep throughout the entire weekend. I woke up and remembered that I needed to design the guide covers for my Spanish class and send them to the teacher, so I did that quickly, only to find out that the files were too big to send with my internet connection. I figured out how to send them eventually and then Julia called me for dinner. Ines is still here and I really hope she sticks around. She really nice, keeps Julia occupied all day, and helps keep the conversations going (sometimes Julia and her just talk and I don't need to say anything at all!) She also made Julia buy a Pandoro (an Italian breakfast cake) and a box of cookies, so she's okay in my book.

Must sleep - I'll try to catch up more tomorrow!

Día Dos con Las Amigas

2009-11-25T17:51:00.000-08:00

(El Palacio Cristal in El Parque del Retiro in Madrid, Spain)

Saturday: We met at about 9:30 am near the Bilboa metro stop to check out the breakfast at a cafe that was rated well in my student guide and recommended by Lauren's sister. The place is called Café Comercial and we all ordered tortitas, which is Spanish for pancakes! I don't know why I didn't know this word before. I managed to order for all three of us, a feat about which I was quite proud.

After we had finished, we walked towards El Palacio Real, stopping to do some shopping along the way. Lauren found a pretty shirt and both girls found awesome bags. I'm saving my pennies for London. We hit Gran Via, stopped at Starbucks, and then wandered through the world market held in Plaza de España. We then reached Palacio Real and saw that the line was a solid half an hour long. We took turns waiting and instead of waiting even longer for a guided tour, we decided to do the self tour through the Palace. I remembered next to nothing from my previous time, so we made up stories instead, which is always more fun. Plus, if we ever needed some real facts, there was an elderly couple from Texas (I know this because I chatted with them while I was helping them figure out how to use the storage lockers) using audio-guides with the volume turned all the way up. I liked them.

After we finished the Palace tour, we walked back to the metro past El Teatro Real, passing a parade that was celebrating the 20th anniversary of the signing of a children's rights act. We took the metro to el Parque de Retiro stop and started looking for the restaurant, Alfredo's Barbacoa. After my getting lost another few times (my friend's would call it lost, I would call it temporarily going in the wrong direction) we found the restaurant, which was packed. This restaurant supposedly has the best burgers in Madrid, though, so there was no way we were going to go anywhere else. It was about 3:15 and we got on the list with an hour and 15 minutes wait, so we all shared a small chocolate passion-fruit ice cream from a nearby ice cream store while chilling on a bench in Retiro until about 4:30.

Once back at the restaurant, we waited for another 15 minutes before we were led to our table, but I think it was worth it. The place has a decidedly American theme, although many of the flags were Confederate flags (?) and the burgers were good and authentic (I got a roasted onion and cream cheese burger - mmm. . .). But those poor deprived Spaniards! All the Spaniards in the restaurants were eating their burgers with forks and knives. My very American friends and I were going to take no part in that, so we ate our burgers as they were meant to be eaten - with our hands. We did notice that the little boy at the next table picked up his burger and started eating with his hands, although his parents refused. Then the restaurant's host, Jorge, who had been very friendly with our table since we arrived, brought us three shots of Southern Comfort. I actually finished mine - so I guess you could call that my first real drink, (even though I sipped it instead of shooting it). You only get free shots in a restaurant in Spain if you're pretty, so it's a kind of compliment, and Jorge also asked to take our picture for the wall of fame, (although from the looks of the pictures, you don't need to do much but eat hamburgers with a table full of girls). So if you're ever in Madrid and go to Alfredo's Barbacoa, check out the pictures on the wall - I'm up there somewhere.

Lauren, Melinda, and I then spent the rest of the afternoon at Retiro, rolling down hills and doing photo shoots in front of fountains, with the leaves, and on a random picnic table. We also saw El Palacio de Cristal, a glass palace in the middle of the park that houses art displays. At first, we thought it was empty, but it was actually a modern art display which involved randomly placed ladders and strings. Odd. As we were exhausted, we decided to head back to the girls' hostel before dinner and dancing. They slept while I did research (I got the short end of that stick), and after finding out that the paella restaurant we had originally wanted to go to required reservations and was all booked for the night, I asked the hostel-front-desk-people (for lack of a better title) for another and they provided me a name and directions. I crashed in Lauren and Melinda's room - in a bed which they told me was unoccupied - and after a 45 minute nap, we were up and dressed and ready to go.

We walked to La Fragua de Volcano for paella (pretty good) and then to Dubliner's, an Irish pub near Sol. This is where the rest of the BC kids were hanging out and since Melinda knew quite a few of them, we stopped by to say hola. This is the pub in Madrid where BC kids can come to watch the BC football games but it's interesting to think that in Boston we can't even get into such places because we're not old enough. Lauren and I ordered Cokes and chatted while Melinda socialized and afterwards we headed to Joy for dancing.

Apparently, I'm not up on my discotheque lingo, because while I was able to get us through the rest of the weekend with my Spanish skills, the bouncers were confusing me with talk of a list and pre-tickets and such, and I'm still not sure what they were telling me. We were probably quite an amusing sight to the Spaniards. I kept repeating, "¿Qué lista?" and when they asked Lauren how old she was, she responded, "89," (I believe she thought they were asking her what year she was born). But we eventually got into Joy with the help of the guy standing behind us (who also, coincidentally, had the 3 extra tickets we needed). Melinda and Jack went off for a minute and never came back, so me and Lauren danced with the rest of the BC group for most of the time. They had periodic shows with music from Grease, so that was interesting, but by 2:30 or 3 am, we were ready to call it a night. We found Melinda and the girls walked back to their hostel while I shared a taxi with Jack and got dropped off at Julia's. Day 2 complete!

Día Uno con Las Amigas

2009-11-25T15:18:00.000-08:00

(La Biblioteca Nacional de España in Madrid, Spain)

Sorry I haven't written in so long! This is the last week of classes and next week is finals. Therefore, I actually have work that needs to be done. This has become a somewhat foreign concept while in Spain, so I've been a little pressed for time recently. So anyway, I'll start with last week. . .

Friday: Lauren and Melinda's plane landed at 11 am, so after explaining to Julia and Paquita (I've finally asked her how to spell her name) that I wouldn't be around much for meals during the weekend, I headed off to the airport to meet las chicas. I got ripped out of a euro when a man I thought was asking for directions was really begging, and I couldn't get him to go away without giving him money. I was peeved. But the girls got in right on time and after successfully buying them metro cards (which involved conversations in Spanish) we took the metro to their hostel.

After they checked in and got situated, (and after Lauren gave me presents - two bracelets from Florence and a box of chocolates from Parma - the girl knows the way to my heart) we walked around the Sol and Plaza Mayor areas. We saw a lot of Christmas lights being put up and also walked through a chic accessories shop with more sales people than customers. We then went to La Casa Labra for lunch, a small tapas bar which is where the Socialist party is rumored to have secretly started in 1879. They really have only 3ish things on the menu, so we tried them all: tuna and tomato skewers, bacalao (or cod) croquettes, and bacalao fritas (fried cod). It was all really good and it was warm enough to eat outside, where we could watch all the people that were shuffling in and out of the tiny room where you place your orders. We then headed on over to La Chocolateria where we got an order of chocolate con churros and an order of chocolate con porras. We planned out the rest of our trip using my student guide book, Lauren's sisters' recommendations, and a map I took from a tourist booth at the airport (probably should have invested in one of those about 3 months ago).

Then it was off to the National Library, but since we found out that the library is closed to the public (I know, right?), we took the metro back to El Corte Inglés, where after some shopping, we went to see Tommy Hilfiger. He was at the store for a book signing and his new line's promotion, so we stood around and watched the presentation. We also met Mrs. Hilfiger, who looks to be about 30 to Tommy's 60 or 70. Bit of an age difference there.

Since we were planning on going to a flamenco show that night, I wanted to change, so we all walked from El Corte Inglés to Julia's. Julia had her sister, nephew, and sister's nanny over. The nanny, Ines, just had a knee surgery and will be staying with Julia and I for a while, so I got to meet some of Julia's family again. The sister, Marta, (mother of the Princess of Sicily) speaks a little Italian, so Lauren and Melinda were able to show off their Italian mastery for everyone. I was impressed. They said that they didn't remember any Spanish from what they learned in school, but I think their Italian far makes up for that.

After I got changed, we headed back out to Chueca, where we were planning to have dinner. We were going to go to tapas bar recommended by Lauren's sister, but we ended up at a different place, Bazaar, which her sister had also recommended. We got mushroom croquettes, roasted tuna with mango salsa, a potato, ham, and egg dish, and a chicken and pesto crepe to share. For dessert, we got fruit skewers, a fruit and ricotta lasagna, and a chocolate cake-like thing. It was all quite tasty and the restaurant itself was really cool. It was all white and decorated as a high-end pantry. I liked it a lot.

Then we headed to La Latina, where we went to La Soleá for flamenco (after my getting lost about 3 times - maps seem to worsen my sense of direction). The flamenco was free, which was great, but there wasn't any dancing; only a guitarist and some singers. The restaurant pays only the guitarist for the night and the singers are gypsies who meander in off the streets and perform. It was really crowded but an authentic atmosphere. We also sat next to some characters who seemed quite smitten with Melinda. At about 1 am, we left so that I could catch the last metro back to Cuzco, and the girls walked back to their hostel. Day one complete!

¿Porqué, clases, porqué?

2009-11-19T14:21:00.000-08:00

(El Museo Caixa Forum in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday, after waking up early, I headed off to Ana's class at Universidad Complutense. We learned about the declination of the Spanish/Austrian empire after the Catholic monarchs, so in other words, some pretty scintillating stuff. I did participate in class, though, and said something about how the deficit led to the decline (which I'm sure sounded all the more brilliant as I said it in Spanish). I actually got nervous while I was speaking, because I felt like Ana was looking at me funny. I thought that maybe Dan, who had spoken right before me, had said the same thing as I, (I was too busy practicing my comment in my head to listen to what he was saying). But no one else seemed to notice anything, so I think I was safe.

I then sat through 2 hours of Historia. I realized that I would have to leave a half-hour early, so that I could be back at Julia's for my registration time. The professor is a talker, and I ended up having to sneak out of class, as she was still talking 10 minutes into our break, which was when I needed to leave. I flew back to Julia's and prepared myself for registration. I had my spreadsheets assembled, my codes neatly in order, and the UIS program open. As soon as it hit 2 pm, I started typing in the codes of the classes I wanted. I got the first three with no problem. The fourth, a marketing class, wouldn't let me register, but I knew my advisor could take care of that one, so I wasn't worried. But my last class, my fun class - Broadcast Programming and Promotion - wouldn't let me register either, and since it is a Communications class, is outside the power of my advisor. I tried about seven times, but I wasn't getting any closer to outsmarting the system, so I went back to the course listings on the Internet. The course wasn't full and I didn't see any reason for why the system wasn't letting me register. The only thing listed next to the class number was the name of the TA, Maj Restri. Then it clicked. Maj Restri is not a person, but rather an abbreviation for Major Restricted, a funny little saying which means that a Marketing major can't register for that Communications class, no matter how many times she types the code into the system. So now I needed to find another class and quick. I tried to think of fun classes I have heard of people taking, but I couldn't think of one, so I started searching the course listings. I perused the Psychology, Music, Art, Sociology, Communications, and Language departments, but most of the classes had Maj Restri as a TA, or were with lousy teachers, or at conflicting times with the rest of my schedule. I settled on a Psych class, Emotions, but later changed it, as the Emotions professor has the worst evaluations I've seen at BC. So, I am currently enrolled in Vocal Performance, and am watching the registration system to see if my Broadcasting class is still open, (as the department head whom I emailed said that I could take the class if it were still open at the end of registration). So now we wait.

I then took the train back to Carlos III to meet Jennifer for lunch. She had invited me over for lunch, so I was awfully excited. She made a salad, a pizza-like dish with crust, cheese, caramelized onions, and tomato slices, and a cheesecake. She is officially the best Intercambio ever. I brought her chocolates as thanks. We ate at her family's house in Getafe, which was really nice and she gave me a tour of both the house and the neighborhood.

We then headed back to school for class. I went to Economics, where the professor decided we would discuss our essay topics individually with him. We were free to leave after we chatted, so I was out of there after 20 minutes. I was heading home on the metro when my metro card stopped working (at least it popped out of the machine this time). It wouldn't let me through any of the tourniquets. I asked a security-lady what to do and she said something which I translated to mean, "Wait until tomorrow and ask someone at a ticket window," (I've since tried this strategy and it actually worked, so I was glad it wasn't too big of a problem). Then it was back to Julia's for dinner and homework until 4 am. Ugh.

This morning I was up by 9:30 to finish the rest of my homework. This week in Spanish class, we have been split up into groups of two and assigned a Spanish city about which we must create a visitor's guide (that will all be compiled in a class book). Lilia and I were assigned Toledo, and since we had to skip class yesterday to register for classes, we had to do some research at home before class today. I made a list of things to do in Toledo, places to eat, etc. and designed a page layout for our guide.

While I was working, Julia left to do some errands, and Baquita came in and complained about Julia for a good 10 minutes. Apparently those two are really getting on each others' nerves. Julia is being Julia and Baquita is actually standing up to her, so there's some definite tension in the air. They had a fight today about the which is the right size of macaroni to buy. I'm trying to remain neutral.

After lunch, I took the train to Getafe and sat down in Spanish class. Lilia and I got to work right away on our guide. Lilia had already written almost everything we needed, so we just edited and then I arranged everything nicely in my layout. Mónica, the professor, came over towards the end of class and complimented me on my graphic design skills. She then asked me to design the cover for our class' guide book. I was flattered, but realized afterwards that I should have bargained for some extra credit.

All the BC kids were going on a class trip to El Museo Caixa with Ana, but we had some time to waste before we needed to leave. Therefore, Nick, Callan, Lilia, and I headed over to the nearby wonder of a sandwich shop. For 3 euros, you can get a sandwich bigger than your head and the walls of the shop are covered with different ingredient combinations. I had eaten lunch not long before, so I didn't get anything, but on our way back to the train, I did grab a bag of cookies from one of the vending machines, (imitation Spanish cookies, of course).

We took the train to Atocha, having an interesting conversation about Dominican gangs in Spain, and then walked to the Caixa. The museum is only 2 years old and is in a really cool building that used to be an electricity plant. There are these nifty old brick walls and modern metal-work that is supposed to resemble an Arab window design. There is also a vertical garden that covers the whole side of the building next door, so that was pretty cool.

Unfortunately, the tour of the exhibit was pretty dull. The displays were about Palladian architecture; Palladio came up with the idea of mixing styles from different eras together. We got these funny-looking headphone sets that made my neck hurt, and I had a hard time focusing on and thus understanding the guide. I think much of the tour was lost on me.

Lizzie and I headed back to Atocha together, stopping at a souvenir shop to do some browsing, and met up with Lindsey, who was also heading back to Nuevos Ministerios. At Nuevos Ministerios, I got on the metro and went home. After my dinner of macaronis (which Baquita will argue are too large and Julia will argue are just fine) I've been fairly productive, so I'm feeling pretty proud of myself.

Lauren and Melinda are coming tomorrow! I'm going to meet them at the airport and take them to their hostel (at least, that's what I'm going to try to do). It will be a fun and utterly unproductive weekend. Yay!

Mis Problemas con Investigación

2009-11-17T13:26:00.000-08:00

(The famous Tio Pepe sign in La Puerta del Sol in Madrid)

As Monday morning rolled around, I again opened up my computer and started editing my paper (I use the word editing loosely; when I edit in Spanish, I essentially check to see if the words look like they're in Spanish. They generally do, so it's a very quick process). I started to wonder whether I should site my sources - normally I would, but for this paper, my sources essentially consisted of Wikipedia, and I wasn't sure whether it was worth it. My computer has automatically adjusted to some sort of Spanish internet system, and reliable sources don't seem to pop up very often. Funny story: I was researching information about the Madonna of Humility on Google and my blog popped up as the 5th listing. If I'm the 5th most creditable art source in Spain, Spain's in trouble.

So I sent the professor an e-mail asking her if she wanted us to cite sources and I fully expected her to say no. She responded that yes, we should please cite our sources. Shoot. So I spent the rest of the day trying to find all of my Wikipedia information on other, more reliable websites. I succeeded, but it took me a solid 5 hours of extra work.

While I was working, Baquita came hurrying in and told me that Julia was on the phone with Paloma. I nearly had a heart attack. I asked Baquita whether Paloma had called Julia or Julia had called Paloma, and she said she hadn't been there for the beginning of the call and wasn't sure. She also said she knew they were talking about me, but that she wasn't sure of the context. I fully expected Julia to come charging in and kick me out, but I still haven't heard anything from Julia about the phone call. Suspicious.

During economics class yesterday, Nick told all the BC kids that the class registration system for next semester doesn't work on the internet connection at Carlos III (laptops or desktops). This is causing a lot of people problems, as they are having to skip classes, go back to their homestays, and register there (we have a set 15 minutes of registration time during which we log onto the system, usually see that all of the classes we want are already filled, and scramble to come up with a different schedule - your heart is beating so fast that it counts as exercise). A few kids don't even have an internet connection in their homestays and are going to have to call in their classes, which is going to be quite an expensive phone call. I am going to have to miss Spanish class, run back to Julia's, register, and then run back to Carlos III to meet Jennifer for lunch. Tomorrow will contain a lot of transportation.

Today I had Historia del Presente, (we learned about ETA - the nationalists or terrorists, depending on who you talk to) where I saw Lizzie for the first time in a while. She was in good mood because her boyfriend got his first job offer with Bank of America. I told her to get him over there and fix my debit card situation, which has still not been resolved. But now I have a connection.

After Spanish class I took the train back to Madrid with Lilia. We were talking and it sounds like pretty much everyone is ready to go back to the US. I think the fact that finals are looming (and the fact that all the finals are in Spanish) is making the whole situation more stressful, and there's a lot of very tense people walking around.

Ever since, I've been working on an application essay about how I fulfill Jesuit values (loads of fun!) and watching Youtube videos about BC. As much of an adventure as Spain is, it will be good to be back!

¡Más fotografías!

2009-11-15T15:33:00.001-08:00

I've uploaded my pictures from El Escorial and El Valle de los Caídos. There aren't very many, as in Spain, pictures are prohibited in most museums. I think that's a silly rule, so all of these pictures are stealth shots - I only got yelled at twice for 20 pictures, so I think it was worth it.

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

Enjoy!

Mucho Escribiendo

2009-11-15T13:05:00.000-08:00

(A ceiling in the monastery of El Escorial, Spain)

This morning I got up early and managed to pump out another paragraph of my essay before I met up with Kathryn at the Tirso de Molina metro stop. We wandered around El Rastro for a couple of hours - she was looking for a belly-dancing skirt for a class she's taking at her gym. We found a small stand with a bunch of them and we were looking at the different colors, but geez - there seems to be a market for belly-dancing skirts. The stand was packed and I couldn't turn around without bumping into somebody. She ended up getting two and we kept walking. I was telling her about how Amanda and I want to go to the Real Madrid vs. Zurich fútbol game, and she said I needed to get a Real Madrid scarf. She said that everyone who goes to the fútbol games wears their team's scarf, so we went and found another stand selling these scarfs and I bought a blue and white one for Real Madrid. So now all I need is tickets.

After we wandered a bit more, (which is really hard to do at El Rastro considering how many people there are) we ended up walking to Sol, because I was still on the hunt for postcards. There was some kind of anti-garbage demonstration going on, so there were about a million people at Sol, too. I thought the demonstration's information would be helpful for my sustainability paper, so I was looking for the people who hand out flyers and such. Of course, there weren't any. The one time I'm actually looking to take something from one of those street advertisers and they're not there! How inconvenient. But we saw the huge Christmas tree (made out of lights) that is currently being assembled, found a couple good spots for postcards, and passed a bunch of street performers (one swing band and 3 of those human statues). We had a little bit of time before I had to be back to Julia's for lunch, so we stopped at La Chocolateria and ordered a plate of chocolate con porras (like churros, but supposedly bigger and better). We grabbed a table outside, and after a bit, the waiter brought us our order. But horror upon horrors, he brought us plain old churros instead of porras! We were deeply upset, but he had already scampered away and I didn't have much time left - so we just ate the churros con chocolate instead, (really not that unhappy of an ending).

I got back to Julia's and we sat down for lunch. I had garbanzo beans in sauce and beef stew, both of which were mighty good. We talked about fútbol and she said that her brother has season tickets to the Real Madrid games. He must be loaded as well, as the tickets for just the Real Madrid vs. Barcelona game are over 1,000 euros. She also mentioned that her father had an awesome library back in their old house. She said it wasn't quite large enough to be made into a museum (the thought hadn't even crossed my mind) but that it was still quite impressive. She gave me the name of a museum, El Museo de Lazaro Galdiano, which is apparently a similar style mansion to the one she grew up - or at least, I think that's what she was trying to tell me, (the owner donated all of his stuff to the state - so there is furniture, paintings, jewelry, silver, etc.).

After lunch, I worked on my paper. Ana asked for 3 pages, and right now, mine's 4.5 (I always have been a rambler). It's interesting stuff though. For example, I learned that in all of those paintings of Mary with Jesus on her lap, they are sitting on the ground or on a low cushion. This is because, in Latin, "humus" means ground, which is the root of the word, "humilitas," which means humility. Therefore, this positioning is symbolic of Mary's humility, and all of these paintings fall under the category of the Madonna of Humility. Then, I was zooming in on the painting online to see if a pattern in the background was a lily (another sign of Mary), and I noticed that the embroidery on Mary's robe was actually the words for Ave Maria. I thought all of this was very interesting and that's why my paper is now 1.5 pages too long. I do love symbolism!

Then after some thrilling economics reading, Julia and I had dinner. I asked her where she had been that afternoon, and she said she went with her sister Marta to visit Marta's nanny (I'm not sure if that's the word she was trying to say or not - she was attempting to say it in English) in the hospital. I guess she just had a knee surgery and is going to be out of commission for a while. She's actually coming to stay here on Thursday for a week (which I guess is a valid reason why Lauren and Melinda can't stay here this weekend - I don't know why she didn't explain this to me in the first place).

I also applied for my first internship today. It was listed on one of BC's career center sites, so I uploaded my resume and cover letter. The internship process has officially started and now there's a whole bunch of applications that need to be done one right after the other. I secretly enjoy it though; writing in English seems so much easier after you spend the whole day writing in Spanish!

El Escorial y El Valle de los Caídos

2009-11-14T14:27:00.000-08:00

(El Valle de los Caídos, Spain)

Because I needed to be somewhere on time this morning, of course my alarm clock failed to wake me up. Fortunately, my sense of panic did, and I flew to the metro and managed to make it to our meeting spot on time. I wasn't even the last one there. We ended up leaving a half-hour late anyway because we were waiting for Don. He was waiting at the metro station for a friend who was coming with us. He must have lost track of time and we couldn't call him, because Apelcom cancelled his service because of this whole Bank of America locked card issue that everyone is having. We drove around the block to pick him up but he wasn't there. We then saw him walking frantically up the street. We flagged him down and the whole bus pulled over to pick him up. As we were driving out of Madrid we saw all the workers putting up Christmas lights. The displays are going to be amazing - there are lights everywhere. They don't turn them on until the end of November, but I am getting really excited!

We drove about an hour to El Escorial. It is in a very odd town. It's all built on the side of a mountain and the houses are all modern, but it all seemed very strange. Maybe it was the cloudy weather or the lack of people on the streets at 10 in the morning, but the whole town seemed kind of spooky. We had about twenty minutes to walk around or get breakfast. A bunch of kids got gofres con chocolate (waffles with chocolate) at a street stand and then we met up in front of El Escorial.

El Escorial is a monastery, university, library, basilica, the traditional crypt of the Spanish monarchs, and the palace of Felipe II de España. It was his life's project but the whole complex was built in only 21 years (compared to the normal 200 years for most of the other buildings in Spain). The outside looks very much like a fort, (we were told the Hapsburgs - including Felipe II de España - were quite austere and invested more money in their paintings than in the outsides of the buildings). We split up into two groups and started our tour. The whole place wasn't heated, so it was rather chilly, and we started by just going through and looking at where Felipe II lived with his family. It was all very simple and dark. We talked about paintings for almost 1.5 hours, so the tour dragged a bit (especially because I was hungry by this point and thinking about gofres con chocolate). We saw an old sundial type invention that was used to coordinate all the clocks in the palace and the throne of Felipe II, one of the most powerful monarchs in history.

The tour picked up when we went down into the tombs to look at where the last 4 centuries of Spanish monarchs are buried. Quite extravagant; all these elaborate sarcophagi inscribed with names of people that I've learn about in classes for years. After the tombs, we stopped at the library, where there is a copy of every book written before 18th century (pretty spiffy) and then walked back out into the main plaza. Our tour guide explained that the basilica was closed because of construction, so that was a shame (it is the central feature of El Escorial and supposed to be awesome). The basilica has a relic of every saint minus three and the place must be huge, judging my the size of the dome. From the plaza you can see the spire on top of El Escorial, which contains what appears to be one gold brick. It really stands out as the rest of the roof is black slate. We were told that when they were building El Escorial it was debated whether the whole thing should be built of gold. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite collected that much gold from the Americas, so that wasn't a possibility, but they didn't want the commoners to know that, so they put the gold block in the spire as a sign that they had the wealth, they were just making a statement of strength by making the whole thing of stone. And apparently, it's not just a brick, but a solid gold box that contains relics of saints that are supposed to protect El Escorial. But because that whole story was told in Spanish, there might be some personal interpretation in there.

After our nearly 3 hour tour, we got a bathroom break, during which Kevin, Jack, and I got separated from the group (Spaniards don't seem count to make sure everyone is there). I called Lizzie, and we ran to meet up the group. The then walked to a nearby park for our picnic. Ana had brought food for everyone, which she had packed in two rolling suitcases that we had been dragging around all day. She had about 10 loafs of bread (which comes with the crust cut off in Spain), cheese, and of course, ham. There were drinks, fruit, cookies, and chocolate, so we were all happy. I didn't even notice how cold it was.

We then hopped back on the bus and drove to El Valle de los Caídos, a monument that Franco had built to honor all the Fascists that died in the Spanish Civil War. Because of this, it is quite the controversial monument. Even more so, because lots of people died (mostly Republicans) building it, (it was freezing and there were really dangerous working conditions) and Franco had them all buried there, too, much to the anger of the families. It is this huge cross, church, and monastery built on top of a mountain, and lots of people, even today, want it torn down. It is also very austere and the stormy weather added to the effect. Also, all these monuments are half in the clouds because they are all built on the tallest mountains so that they are closer to God.

We walked into the church and my jaw dropped. The place was huge and built completely into the mountain. We learned that the the whole nave is actually longer than that of the Vatican, which isn't allowed in Catholicism. I think Franco probably knew this when they were building, but they put up a gate about halfway down and declared that to be the start of the official church. So the "church" with the vestibule and anti-vestibule put together are significantly longer than the Vatican. The nave leads to a huge wooden crucifix above the altar; Franco went out into the woods, picked a tree, and had the whole thing carved in front of him. The dome, (above which is the peak of the mountain and the big concrete cross) is all ornantely decorated with saints and Spaniards (but only Fascist Spaniards). There are two chapels with doors that lead down to the huge crypt, (us normal people can't go down there) where all the unnamed Fascists are buried. And behind the altar is the tomb of Franco himself. I think you really get a feel for him standing in this church and I was more impressed with El Valle de los Caídos then with El Escorial.

It was also interesting to learn that there used to be a river that ran through the mountain. Franco, unconcerned, told them to build there anyway. Now there are big water stains all over the ceiling and big pots everywhere to catch the running water. This seems to me to be quite a large problem as the whole thing is situated under the weight of a mountain and a 152 meter high concrete cross. But who am I to judge?

We got back on the bus and drove back to Madrid. I took the metro back with Amanda and stopped at a convenience store to get more toilet paper (yes, the toilet paper is still an issue). Then I decided to go for a walk. I wandered north past where I usually go for my runs (I say that like I run often - rephrase - my two runs). It seemed to take me less time to get there walking then running, so that's not a good sign. After about 45 minutes of exploring, I turned around and headed back to Julia's. I had a good dinner, (cheese wrapped in ham and fried - unhealthy? Yes. Delicious? Yes) and we also had a decent conversation about natural disasters and global warming. Then I wrote another paragraph of my paper for Ana and decided to go to El Rastro tomorrow morning with Kathryn. I also received notification that Hayley has a Facebook, so I am about to Skype home and investigate further.

Mi Teléfono No Funciona

2009-11-13T13:09:00.000-08:00

(Gardens at La Alhambra in Granada, Spain)

As I lay in bed this morning, hitting snooze for the 4th time, I noticed that my phone wasn't making it's alarm sound, it was making its texting sound. Ponderous, I thought. So I squinted at the screen which proudly said that my current phone bill was 78 euros. That's when my eyes popped right open. Annoyed, I rolled out of bed and started looking for the phone company's phone number. I have made two, count 'em, two phone calls this month and that does not add up to 78 euros. As I was squinting at my contract, trying to read while still adjusting to the sunlight, my phone beeped again, and this text said that my credit card wasn't approved and that my service was about to be cancelled. They must not know about Morning-Gigi or they would have waited until at least noon to throw me these curveballs. I finally found the phone number and was greeted by a chipper, "Buenos días!" It was far too early for Morning-Gigi to have a phone conversation in Spanish, so I responded, "Hablas inglés?" Thankfully, she did, and I told her about the texts. She said to disregard the one about the 78 euro bill, (they seem to send those out just for fun - several of my friends have received them, too) and I told her about how I knew my card has been locked (story of the last month). I asked her if there was a way to switch the payment to a different card and she said yes, I would just need to come down to their office and sign a form.

So I showered, got dressed, and hopped on the metro. I got off at Plaza de España and found the building. I knew that Apelcom was on the fifth floor, so I was looking at the telecom buttons, (none of which were labeled) and trying to figure out whether I was in the right place. Apparently Aplecom's revenue isn't quite enough to have a store-front window. So I was standing there looking confused when a guy pulled open the door and got in the elevator. I hadn't thought to just try the door, so that seemed like a good idea, and I followed his lead. There was a sign pointing me to elevator B down a hallway so I found the elevator and hit five. After a bumpy landing, the doors opened onto a dark hallway of what looked like residential apartments. I was about to turn around and go back downstairs when I saw "Apelcom" written on a sheet of computer paper that was Scotch-taped to one of the doors. The thought crossed my mind that this was the culmination of my conspiracy theory and that I was going to be kidnapped right then and there, but I didn't want my phone to stop working, so I took my chances.

I rang the bell, (which was so loud that I jumped) and a lady opened the door. "Estás abierto?" I asked. She said yes so I walked in. There were two or three desks in a room filled with stacks of paper and file cabinets. The place was a mess and I could see why they keep sending everyone incorrect texts. I assumed this was the woman to whom I had spoken on the phone, as there was only one other guy in the room who seemed to be playing games on his IPhone - which is not an Apelcom product, I might add. I told her I needed to change the card on my account and she gave me the form to sign. I changed it to Mom's credit card, which is the only working card I have right now, (sorry if you read this before I call you tonight, Mom) and then walked back out into the scary hallway and took the scary elevator back downstairs.

I wanted to buy some postcards and I was in a pretty touristy area, but unfortunately, there were none to be found. I went back to the metro and decided to head to Sol, where I knew there would be a ton of them. But my subconscious must have been thinking otherwise, because after a few stops, I noticed I was on the line that goes back to Julia's and not on the line to Sol at all. Funny how that happens.

So I got off at Julia's and broke out the homework. Julia was out somewhere and Baquita came in at 2 and asked me if I wanted lunch because she wasn't sure when Julia was coming back. I said sure and had just finished eating when Julia walks in. She wasn't pleased.

Julia: "I will call if I'm not going to be back for dinner."

Me: "Oh, okay. I'm sorry I ate. I was hungry and not sure when you were coming back."

Julia: "2:30." (thanks for the heads up)

So I just worked on homework all day until Julia called me for dinner. I was having fish - a whole fish. I have no idea how to go about eating a whole fish, so I was pretty certain I was going to endure some critiquing during this meal. So before starting, I asked her what was the proper way to eat a fish like this, and she just did it for me. Quite the process, it turns out. It was a good thing I asked or I would have been picking at the trout bones for the next hour. She mentioned during dinner that her late husband's parents live in NYC, and are bigwigs for GM. I didn't ask how big of bigwigs they are, but she knew the CEO's name off the top of her head, so I'm thinking big enough.

She then went to get something from the living room for me, which turned out to be an advertisement to see Tommy Hilfiger at a promotion in Corte Inglés next week. I'm definitely going. This line of promotions must be the reason why I saw Claudia Schiffer there yesterday (turns out she's pretty famous - I did my research). And I will bring my camera.

Off to El Escorial and El Valle de Los Caídos tomorrow!

Modelos y Español

2009-11-12T14:11:00.000-08:00

(La Capilla Real in Granada, Spain)

Yay - my Spanish test is over! It was difficult and long and all in Spanish (but that was to be expected) but now it is over and I can proceed with forgetting everything I learned.

I studied in my spare minutes yesterday - which were few and far between as it was Wednesday and Wednesdays are always long. I had Ana's class at 8:30 am, which wasn't too bad. I seem to be understanding a little more each class and I found out that we are taking a class trip to El Escorial on Saturday. I don't know why I realize this before, but it was news to me. Luckily, I have no plans except for homework which I will be more than happy to avoid. I then had two hours of Historia del Presente with the teacher of the other class section (our teacher was out). I thought she was much more interesting (we looked at pictures of the Berlin Wall all class) and I could understand her Spanish better. She finished the class by talking about Spanish family structure and I was interested and understanding, a rare occurrence here in Spain. Then after lunch with Lizzie, I had Spanish class, where we spent an hour and a half asking questions about the themes that confused us. It was good review, but I got nervous hearing about how much information was going to be covered on the exam. After class, I met with Jennifer. This week was our Spanish week, so slightly more stressful on my part, but we seemed to get through everything okay. We discussed our London trip - she's trying to sort out a situation with her boyfriend before she buys tickets, and waiting for her before I buy my tickets. Unfortunately, I'm watching the prices go up and up, so if she doesn't decide soon, I guess I'm going to have to book a flight without her. On the plus side, she invited me to lunch at her house next week and even mentioned dessert, so I'm thrilled! Plus, it will be nice to see a house and family that isn't Julia's. Next item on the docket was Economics, where we had to officially declare our final paper topic. I decided on to write about the globalization of Japan after WWII, so hopefully that turns out to be somewhat interesting. Then it was back to Julia's for dinner and although I tried to get in some studying, I talked to the family and Uncle Ted and Jerry on Skype and fell asleep instead. Oh, well.

Today I woke up early to get in some of the studying I missed last night. I actually got in a good four hours worth, but unfortunately, it was a terribly boring four hours. I did get to talk to Baquita, who was upset with Julia, because Julia wouldn't let her borrow the phone to call the construction workers at her house. That Julia and her antics. I wrapped up my studying and caught the train to Getafe. Everyone was nervous for the test and I stayed until the very last minute, but I'm relieved to not have to study anymore.

I needed some contact solution, so I stopped at Corte Ingles on the way home. Of course, I detoured to the grocery store (completely allowed, because that's originally where I thought the contact solution would be). I asked one of the workers where the "liquid for cleaning the lenses of my eyes" was and she took pity on my lack of vocabulary and pointed me downstairs to the Óptica. But on my way out of the grocery store there was a big crowd of people standing around a small promotional stage. There were photographers and everything. So apparently, I'm one of those people who will wait in a line because they figure everyone must be waiting for something interesting. I waited in this crowd for a solid half and hour without knowing what I was waiting for. But then everyone started clapping and the supermodel whose picture was all over the promotional signs and a woman who I deduced was the name behind the new perfume they were promoting came on the stage. Everyone started taking pictures but, of course, this was the first day I decided not to bring my camera to school. Shoot. I looked up their names afterwards; the designer's name is Alberta Ferretti and the model's name is Claudia Schiffer. It would have been a funny picture - Alberta came up to about Claudia's bellybutton.

So then I headed downstairs to the Óptica where I waited in another line, (but this time for contact solution). I was actually quite proud of myself, because I asked for that box of contact solution in perfect Spanish (asking for things and favors was one of the topics on my test). The woman didn't give me the usual blank stare or pitied smile; she simply turned around and handed me the box. I might as well have been a Spaniard.

Then it was back to Julia's. There was a guy cleaning the back elevator I use, but he said he didn't mind riding up to Julia's floor. I pressed the button and he said that he's been working on the floor above Julia's floor. I'm well aware of this - there has been construction going on for quite some time up there. I had previously asked the doorman about the family, and apparently a new family is moving in and completely remodeling everything. But here's how my conversation with the construction man went:

Me: "So how much longer will the job take?"

Rodrigo: "Probably about a month, there's quite a bit of work to be done." (Julia will be disappointed - she said the other day that they would be done in a week)

Me: "Must be a lot of work."

Rodrigo: "Yeah - the apartment is the whole floor."

Me: "Yeah - it's the same on my floor."

Rodrigo: "You own the whole floor?"

Me: "Oh no. I'm studying abroad and living with a señora who whole owns the whole floor."

(elevator stops, I exit)

Rodrigo: "What's your name?"

Me: "Gigi, and yours?"

Rodrigo: "Rodrigo. Wait, Gigi? How do you say that in Castellano?"

Me: "Uh, Gigi. . "

Rodrigo: (confused look)

Me: "My full name is Gabrielle"

Rodrgio: "Ah, Gabriella!"

Me: "That's it - goodbye!"

Rodrgio: "Goodbye, Gabriella!"

He seemed like a friendly fellow. Julia probably wouldn't approve of my talking to him. I was impressed that I carried on that whole conversation in something resembling Spanish. I did absolutely nothing productive the rest of the night, so that was nice. I'm currently working on uploading pictures to Facebook, but it is tedious and I will probably fade out before I finish. I've also discovered that you can chat with people on Facebook and so far I've chatted with Rachel, Kathryn, and Cioci Heather. Tricky business, that Facebook.

¡Mucho Trabajo!

2009-11-10T14:14:00.000-08:00

(A view of the gardens at La Alhambra in Granada, Spain)

This week seems to have become alarmingly busy. I don't know where all this work came from, but I'm really hoping this is just a blip in the system until finals roll around. I have a Spanish test on Thursday, an art history paper due next Wednesday, two final papers that need to be researched (one on the economic history of Japan and the other on sustainability in Spain), internships that need to be applied for, club applications that need to be finished. . . I shan't bore you with the details.

Also, I'm officially on Facebook. After two years, I have succumbed to peer pressure and finally opened an account. My e-mail inbox has been exploding and I already feel the pulls of addiction. There are so many people and so many pictures to look at, but I refuse to become a Facebook addict and will stay strong. Unfortunately, I think this might actually become another one of those ways in which I inadvertently avoid society (similar to my phone and e-mail accounts). I read and/or listen to everyone's friendly messages, but then never seem to respond in a timely fashion. My Facebook wall posts (I believe that's what they're called) are stacking up, and I actually haven't responded to anyone yet. There must be a way to send big group messages, but that's probably not quite socially acceptable. But then again, neither is not responding. . .

I had a stomach ache all yesterday morning, which slowed down the Spanish studying. I'm not sure what caused it, (although the possibility of Julia's poisoning me crossed my mind - just kidding. . .) but I felt better by the time I left for class. We are writing fairy tales with a twist in Spanish. We each have a partner, and each group must pick a classic fairy tale, and re-write it so that it ends differently. My group's story is Cinderella (or Cenicienta, en español). Everything is the same until the day after the ball, when Cinderella wakes up with swollen feet (the fairy godmother's spell had some negative side-effects). She goes downstairs and tries to explain to the Prince that she was the girl with the glass slipper, but he dismisses her as ugly and turns out to be quite shallow (after all - he didn't even know her name after dancing with her all night). Cinderella's step-family kicks her out because she can't do the chores anymore and she moves into her own apartment. After the fairy godmother fixes Cinderella's feet, she meets her new neighbor, Carlos, who is muy guapo and not shallow at all. El Fin. It'll be a movie any day now.

Then I had Economics. Every Monday we have quizzes on the readings (which are usually upwards of 30 pages). Each week I do the reading, outline the reading, and do the reading again, but it doesn't really seem to help. He asks really random question, which sometimes have little to do with the reading and are usually hardly in English (whoever writes those quizzes could use a grammar class). The best grade I've gotten so far was on the week where I accidentally read the wrong reading. Go figure.

Today was just a lot of Spanish studying. I had two classes, neither of which were remarkable, but afterwards, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some school supplies. I got to the checkout and handed the woman my money and she said, "You can't pay with this." I gave her a blank stare (wondering if this was a further development in the conspiracy theory) but then realized I had tried to pay with Moroccan dirhams. They look quite a bit like euros and if I were the cashier, I wouldn't have noticed the difference. I must have put them in my wallet when I was fishing through my change box looking for coins because none of my cards were working. Then I couldn't remember how much she had said the bill was or how much I had already given her, so I kept handing her coins and she kept asking me for more. Of course there was a long line behind me, and I think Hayley would deem this another embarrassing story.

Francesco was over again today and Julia seems to be much nicer to him than she is to me. But he really is a cutie and doesn't scream when I'm near him, so he's okay in my book. He even has the little comb-over that all the royal babies in the movies have.

Now it's off to bed - have to get up before the sun tomorrow.

La Teoría de La Conspiración

2009-11-08T11:38:00.000-08:00

(La Alhambra in Granada, Spain)

Yesterday was a half-hearted attempt at productivity. I didn't get through much homework, but I did finish some resume/cover letter/internship work. At about 3, I decided I needed a break, so I decided to go activate my new debit card (the one BOA replaced my Lisboa-captured card with) at one of the nearby ATMs. I tried the first ATM, and nothing happened, so I tried a second, and then a third. Nada. Now I was worried and went back to Julia's and tried calling the activation system over the phone. The card still wouldn't activate, so I called customer service. After waiting on hold for a half-hour, I finally got to explain my problems to someone. The woman checked the system and said that all three of my cards (the one still in Lisboa, the one I have, and another one that's in the mail) are all permanently locked. She comforted me by saying, "That's weird, I've never even heard of that before." She checked with her supervisor, who also had never seen such a problem before, and she told me that since they can't unlock a permanently locked card, they would have to send another one to Norwich, so that it could be forwarded on. I asked her what would happen if that card gets here and doesn't work either, and she said, "That shouldn't happen." So I'm sure it won't. . .

This whole process took much longer than expected, and although I only had about 7 euros, I needed to hurry to meet Jennifer (my intercambio) by 7. We met at Sol and she showed me around downtown, pointing out good restaurants and things to do. I discovered on this walk that the Royal Palace, Sol, El Rastro, Gran Via, and even Atocha are all very close together. I had thought they were in different corners of the city - go figure. Jennifer and I headed over to a park where there is an Egyptian museum and some old Egyptian buildings to look at. We passed about three botellóns on the way, (the big street parties that Spain is famous for) and after taking pictures of the monuments we walked back to Sol, passed a mariachi band, and then stopped at a tapas bar, Cantina Alhambra, for dinner.

We ordered bravas (potatoes that come with a spicy tomato sauce and an aeoli sauce) and morcilla (blood sausage). Our dishes also came with bread toasted with olive oil and mini ham sandwiches. Everything was really good - even the blood sausage, which I was not planning on liking. We were there for a good hour and a half chatting, and after we paid, we decided to walk down Gran Via to the Atocha area. We passed some interesting neighborhoods, with Jennifer pointing things out all the way, and even passed Kapital (the seven-story discotheque which I am determined to go to at some point). At about midnight, we got back on our designated trains and headed home.

I had to get off the train at Nuevos Ministerios and switch to the metro, so I stuck my ticket into the tourniquet machine, like I usually do and the doors opened, like they usually do. But my ticket did not pop back out of the slot like it usually does. Problem. That ticket is a month pass that costs 33.5o euros (like $50!) and November is not over yet. I just stared at the machine for while, but nothing happened and it didn't seem like my ticket was going to be showing up anytime soon. So I was now standing in a holding area between two sets of tourniquets and there were no security or maintenance people wandering around. I needed to fork over another euro to buy a ticket out and I now had about only 1 euro left. Because I didn't see anyone helpful, I got back on the metro to Cuzco and told the ticket lady there what had happened (all in Spanish, which was very complicated - this story involves a lot of past tense and weird vocabulary). I asked her if she could print me another copy of the ticket and she said no. So I asked her what I should do and she said go back to Nuevos Ministerios and find a security guard who could call someone with the keys to the tourniquets.

I got back to Nuevos Ministerios and found a security guard (which took some time because Nuevos Ministerios is one of the biggest metro/train stations in Madrid). As planned, a maintenance guy followed me back down to the tourniquets, but unfortunately, he said he didn't have the key to my tourniquet. Lucky me. I asked him who did, and he said nobody because it was too late (it was now about 1 am). So he told me to write down the tourniquet number and come back tomorrow morning. No money and no metro card. My three theories: there's a government plot against me, the FBI is secretly testing me for job, or Julia's rebelling by shutting me out of Madrid.

So I dragged my sore feet (I hadn't been wearing my most comfortable shoes this whole time) back onto the metro and went back to Julia's. I called Alicia, and it was good to catch up with the BC news. I then set my alarm (as I was accumulating quite a to-do list) and passed out.

Today, I woke up an hour later than planned and after doing some homework and eating breakfast, walked back to Nuevos Ministerios (with my sore feet) and searched for a helpful-looking person. I had been practicing my story in Spanish in my head, so people seemed to be understanding me alright. I got back to tourniquet number 2167 and waved down the security guards. I prepped my story with my usual, "Please excuse my Spanish - it's only so-so," and started in on my well-rehearsed dialogue. Then one of them whipped my ticket out of his pocket. I said, "Yay!" and they told me not to worry at all - my Spanish was great. I like them - helpful and full of compliments.

As I currently have no access to money, Mom very kindly offered to send me some through Western Union. So I took the metro to the closest Western Union, and after a slow conversation with the money lady, (there was a solid wall of glass between us and, of course, we were speaking Spanish) I got my money and headed back to Julia's. We ate lunch, where we had a conversation about all the great things Franco did. There was less crime, less poverty, and less dissent back then, Julia said. Quote of the day: "I wouldn't really call Franco a dictator. . ." I wasn't going to argue her.

I then studied Spanish for four hours and only got through my notes once; there is going to be a lot of information on this test. Julia was out most of the afternoon, but came back for dinner. We chatted about art; she said her parents had a "precious collection." I'll bet. She went out again at about 10. I'm practically a hermit in comparison.

Una Semana de Chocolate

2009-11-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

(A view of Granada, Spain)

So this week has been fun. I've cried about 5 times, eaten a solid 20 euros worth of chocolate, and avoided anything that mildly resembled exercise. Let me explain:

Monday: After a nice, long day of classes, I returned home for dinner with Julia. Here's how our conversation about world history went. . .

Julia: "Well, America wouldn't even exist if it weren't for Spain."

Me: "Well, nobody would exist if it weren't for Africa."

Julia: "What are you talking about?"

Me: "You know - how humans started in Africa."

Julia: "In Egypt?"

Me: "No, Central Africa, I think. That's where they found the oldest human body."

Julia: "You mean Adam?"

Me: (pause and cautious head tilt) "No, that's not what I mean at all."

Julia: "Well, if you don't believe that Adam was the first human, then you aren't a Catholic."

Me: "You don't believe in evolution?"

Julia: "I believe in the Bible. Everything else is theoretical. You can't believe everything some American scientist tells you."

Me: "I don't believe the discovery was made by just one American. I think it's a fairly well-supported theory."

Julia: "There is no evidence to support that theory."

She ended up calling one of her historian friends, who seemed to agree with me. She still avoided apologizing, though. I decided that the Julia situation was not improving and that I would be visiting Ana, the BC advisor, the next day.

Tuesday: After my first class, I trooped on up to Ana's office, where I began to regale her with my most recent Julia-stories. She got upset and started explaining that I was experiencing first-hand, what someone with a Franco-ist mindset is like. After I started crying a second time, she called the housing director, Paloma, and said that I should be moved out of Julia's. Ana told me to come back tomorrow and meet with Paloma and her husband Juan, who would have a gameplan worked out. So after my second class, I went home with my heart pounding. Julia and I sat down for dinner, and surprisingly, had a decent conversation. She even attempted an apology (which oddly enough, did not include the words, "I'm sorry,") so then I felt bad that I had talked to Ana. Meanwhile, chocolate was just evaporating out of the cabinet where it is hidden from Julia.

Wednesday: I got up bright and early to get to Ana's class. We were discussing the Catholic monarchs in Spain and then entered into a short lecture about how, even today, people of high-classes don't except that Spain is a mix of cultures and Franco's regime taught everyone that Spain was essentially the center of the universe. I think Ana's lecture was somewhat influenced by our chat the day before. So after that, most of us had to go and sit through two hours of Historia del Presente. We were discussing the education system in Spain, and I was so bored that I was drawing little apartments in the margins of my notebook and planning where I would put all my furniture. Don't judge.

After lunch, I went back to Ana's office to meet with Paloma and Juan. They started telling me about how they had two families all picked out that I could go and visit and how they could come and help me move all of my stuff when Julia wasn't around. They said they would have to call her first and try to get her to return the November check. This whole conversation was turning my stomach, and I told them I was awfully nervous about this and about how I wasn't sure whether moving is worth all the trouble when there's only about a month of school left. They said they would give me a couple more days to think it over and this was when I started crying a third time.

But life was looking up as I skipped Economics to go on the BC trip to the opera. The performance was held in El Auditorio, a big concert hall in Madrid, and the opera was La Vida Breve. It wasn't a full-out spectacle of an opera. There were two opening orchestra pieces, one of which was composed by Ana's brother. Her whole family was there are she said she started crying when she heard it. The second act was the opera itself. There wasn't scenery or many props, and everything was performed in front of the orchestra members, who sat right on the stage. Even though we couldn't see everything, (our cheap tickets were actually above and behind the stage) the singing was awesome and there were some dancers who really good, too. The opera was set in Granada, so it just happened to be relevant to Ana's class.

I got back home at about 10, and was relieved that I could eat alone. But to my surprise, as soon as I finished, the doorbell rang and in walked a woman who identified herself as Maria, Francesco's mother. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this was the Princess herself, live and in person. I was already in my PJs, so I just looked as glamorous as could be, but she spoke in English, so I could at least communicate properly. She seemed nice enough, but she only just stopped by to get Francesco and then was out the door again.

Once I was all cleaned up and settled in my bedroom, Julia came in and told me that my friends from Italy wouldn't be able to stay anymore (even though I had asked her this twice before and everything had been okay). When I asked her why, she simply said, "There would be problems if they stayed here." So I went to bed in a huff, ready to move out again.

Thursday: I only had one class today, but afterwards, a bunch of the BC kids were meeting Ana at the Museo de Thyssen for guided tour. It was a really nice museum and Ana explained to us certain paintings that we will probably see again on our final. I do like looking at art when it's explained to me, and Ana used a microphone that was connected to our individual ear-pieces, which magically made me understand everything she said, (and no, it wasn't translating her into English). After the Thyssen, Lizzie, Elisha, Steve, and I walked to Plaza de España, where I caught the metro back to Julia's. Nothing thrilling in the dinner conversation; I steered away from any potentially controversial topics. She did seem to think I was lying about the opera having two opening acts, though, and I had to bring out the program before she believed me.

Today: I woke up determined to make a decision about whether I was moving out of Julia's or not. I pondered, asked Baquita (the maid) for advice, and pondered some more, and decided to call Paloma and ask her to move me. I kind of wanted to be like Harry Potter when he was saved from the Dursleys by the Weasleys. Suddenly, in walks Julia and asks if I'm happy here. I froze, thinking she had overheard my conversation with Baquita. Then she said that Paloma had called her and explained that I was unhappy and asked me why. I decided it was now or never, so I went on and on about how I feel like she judges me unfairly and doesn't really like me, and how some of her manners in the US would be considered rude, (I think I even managed to say all of this somewhat eloquently in Spanish). She apologized and said she loved me (which I found awkward) and then brought me a handful of chocolate (which she has been hiding somewhere or else I would have found it by now). This is very uncharacteristic of Julia, but I hope she stays this way. We had decent conversations at both lunch and dinner, so maybe the situation will begin to improve. This is one of those aforementioned roller-coasters of emotion.

¡Más fotografías!

2009-11-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

I uploaded my pictures from Córdoba and Granada onto the Shutterfly site.

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

Enjoy!

Día Tres en Córdoba y Granada

2009-11-05T11:42:00.000-08:00

(A home in the Albaicín of Granada, Spain)

We woke up on Sunday to another one of those wonderful continental breakfasts and I stuffed in as many chocolate croissants as is (somewhat) socially acceptable. We then headed upstairs to pack up all of our stuff and met in the lobby to put our luggage in the storage room and check out. Robert met up with the group and we left to take a walk around the Albaicín (the historic neighborhood).

We learned that the Albaicín is protected by UNESCO as a world heritage site, and therefore has become quite the neighborhood to invest in. People who buy homes there must follow certain building rules to preserve the feel of the area, so all the millionaires are moving in and paying the "real" families who lived there before to move out. So while the buildings of the neighborhood are being preserved, the people of the neighborhood are not. The area used to be quite rundown and didn't even have running water until the 1960s. It is built on a hill, and the streets are very windy and steep. We climbed quite a bit, (and it was still very hot), but at the top was a great view of Granada and the Alhambra.

We stopped at an old home turned restaurant so we could see what the inside of the houses looked like (or the courtyard, at least) and then travelled on over to El Monasterio de Santa Isabel la Real. This is a pretty simply decorated convent, as all the money in Granada went towards building the Capilla Real. I can't remember anything else about the history of the convent as Robert suddenly mentioned that in the convent live baking nuns who sell their goods to the public by means of a little turntable. Now I've seen Samantha Brown do this on the Travel Channel, so I was pretty excited. You go up to this little wooden door and ring a bell. A nun on the other side will answer, and you open the door and see a little wooden turntable. The nuns can't be seen by the public, so they show you what baked goods are available by spinning the collection around for you to see. You can then ask what the prices are and place an order. You put the money on the turntable and spin it back around, and they will spin back your boxes of cookies. It's really quite a lot of fun. We all lined up like the diligent students we are and a few of us ordered something with Robert's help. I got a bag of lemon muffins. I also decided I would make a great nun.

We then wandered back down the hill and ended up back near Plaza Nueva for lunch. A bunch of the BC kids stopped to get a poster of their names written in Arabic, and after that, Kevin, Jeff, James, and I stopped at a kebab restaurant. I ordered yet another falafel kebab, (which was delectable) and we ate outside in the Plaza. There was a marching band that went by at one point, so that was cool, and after we finished our kebabs, we stopped at an ice cream shop. I got a scoop of chocolate brownie ice cream, which kept me occupied until we got back to the hotel.

We all grabbed our stuff and got back on the bus. I sat with Kevin on the way home and all of us watched Juana La Loca, a Spanish movie that tied into the history of Granada. After that movie, (I missed about half an hour in the middle due to drowsiness - and then was very confused for the end) we watched The Orphanage, a Spanish horror movie. I saw that with mom and Hayley when we were in Alaska, so I managed to get some Econ reading done on the bus.

We got back to Madrid at about 7 pm, and after taking the metro home with Amanda, got back to Julia's at about 8. Julia and I sat down for dinner and were talking about my trip. I mentioned that I liked the food in Granada because it reminded me of the food in Morocco.

Her curt reply was, "No."

I said, "No, what?"

Julia: "The food in Granada is Andalusian."

Me: "Oh, I know - but it has Arab influences."

Julia: "No. The food in Granada is Andalusian."

Me: "But it is very similar to the food we ate in Morocco."

Julia: "No."

Keep in mind that I don't think she's ever been to Morocco and doesn't seem to know what Moroccan food is whenever I bring it up. It's good to be home!

Día Dos en Córdoba y Granada

2009-11-03T10:08:00.001-08:00

(Eva Esquivel, a gypsy flamenco dancer in Granada, Spain)

On Saturday, Katherine and I headed downstairs at about 9 am to grab some of the continental breakfast from the hotel. In my opinion, continental breakfasts in Europe are far superior to those in the US. The hotel had a wonderful spread of warm pastries, which included chocolate filled croissants. There was also ham and cheese for sandwiches, yogurts, cereal, and fruit. I was pleasantly surprised.

The group met at 9:45 and walked to the Capilla Real (or the Royal Chapel) where we met Robert, one of Ana's friends and a professor at the University of Granada. He was our tour guide for the day and gave all the talks in English. Yay! La Capilla Real is where Isabella and Ferdinand are buried as well as Juana La Loca and her husband, Philip. Isabella and Ferdinand were originally buried in the Monastery of St. Francis in the La Alhambra, as the Capilla was still being constructed when they died. But as stated in Isabella's will, they were to buried in the Capilla upon its completion. During the Napoleonic invasions, the coffins were opened and looted and when Granada later flooded, everything in the unsealed coffins got pretty nasty. You can still go see the coffins though. The Capilla is also very nicely decorated. There is a huge iron gate that used to separate the nobles from the commoners, and it is one of the first gates signed by the artist. Before the Renaissance and humanism, such artists weren't given credit for their work, but this gate prominently displays the message, "I was made by the master Bartholomew." There is also a huge altar space with very elaborate scenes from the Bible (with Charles V disguised as a wise-man - he wanted to be included in the decorations) and the sacristy has been converted into a museum. The coolest thing in this museum is Isabella's jewelry box where she stored the jewels that she ended up giving to Columbus to fund his journeys to Asia/America.

Next, we walked up a really steep, mountain-like hill to La Alhambra, a fort built in the 8th century, which became a contained town of Arab palaces in the 13th century. We stopped at the gate where Robert explained the ancient security system. To break down the doors, invaders would have to walk under a covered area. If invaders reached the door, the Arab soldiers could pour hot oil down on them from the covered area above. You can't see any of this from the road, and attackers wouldn't figure out the system until too late.

We then walked into the Alhambra and Robert explained that the much of it was built with money collected from the Jews and Muslims after the Catholic occupation. Muslims and Jews could stay in Spain if they converted to Catholicism and paid extra taxes, but when they revolted in 1568 and lost, everyone had to leave. When the French later invaded Spain, they thought the Alhambra would be the perfect place for a military district and decided to knock down all of the Arab palaces in the process. During the process an Arab, who had only one hand, went around and disconnected as much of the dynamite as he could, so the palaces that remain are thanks to him. The French got caught up in Russia and never finished their construction. Eventually the whole place fell into disrepair until it was later refurbished and used for a music festival in the 1950s.

The place is pretty cool. It's spread out over all these hills with great views of Granada. There are lots of gardens, aqueducts, old ruins, and restored palaces. We learned a lot about the history of everything and had plenty of time to explore on our own, too. I also learned that gypsies live in caves in the mountains and are very tricky. They will offer you a sprig of rosemary and then grab your hand to read your palm. Then you need to pay, and since coins are bad luck, the least you can give them is 5 euros. We all watched a woman have this very scam happen to her. I could make a decent living doing that. . .

A bunch of us then went out to lunch at a kebab restaurant in La Plaza Nueva. I got a falafel kebab (which is falafel and salad stuffed in a pita with tasty sauces) and loved it. I'm a big fan of kebab. We went back to the hotel for a minute, turned on the TV, and saw the Disney Channel playing their Halloween marathon - I hadn't even remembered it was Halloween.

Then after that we were on our way to the Hamam (the Arab baths). This Hamam was much more of a spa than the authentic one in Morocco (although the effect was altered by their attempts at Halloween decorations which included people walking around in masks and paper pumpkins hanging on the walls). There were a bunch of pools with different temperatures, ranging from really cold to toasty hot, and you just go soak for a while. There were no Moroccan ladies surprising you by dumping buckets of boiling water on your head or scrubbing off the top layer of your skin, so this was a bit more relaxing than the authentic baths. These baths were in a dark cave-like room and there was this relaxing music playing in the background. There was also a room off to the side with candies and Moroccan tea, so the whole experience was quite nice. To top it all off, I had my first-ever official massage. It was somewhat awkward, because I didn't realize massages are generally topless, and I wore a one-piece, which complicated things a bit, but after that was settled, the massage was really great. I would highly recommend one - although I would also recommend wearing a bikini.

After the baths, Katherine and I walked back to the hotel, stopping to buy some chocolate for our candy-eating Halloween fiesta later that night. We had quite a bit of free time so we wandered around the Albaicín and did some souvenir shopping. I bought myself two Moroccan lamps (which would have been a whole lot cheaper in Morocco, but oh well), some earrings, and a pasta bowl made in Granada. I am really starting to acquire a collection of souvenir pottery. I have my pasta bowl, a pitcher from Segovia, and four bowls from Morocco. Those will be fun to transport back to the US.

We stopped to grab dinner at a tapas/bocadillos place. I got a spinach and cheese omlette bocadillo, which was pretty tasty, and a Fanta Naranja. We then had to meet up with the group so that we could walk to the flamenco show where we all had tickets. It was about a half-hour walk from the hotel through a pretty part of Granada, and almost the entire way, I told the advisor, Ana, my Julia stories. I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but she was appalled and said that I should move out. I'm still not sure what to do about this situation.

We got to the flamenco show, which was in El Centro Internacional de Estudios Gitanos (or the International Center for Gypsy Studies). They have a big auditorium (which I liked, because you can see more that way) and behind the stage are these huge windows that overlook the lit-up Alhambra on the opposite mountain. The show was awesome. There was one dancer and four musicians and they were all really impressive. It was also cool to think that they have a school for gypsy studies, (I wonder if they teach them about how coins are bad luck).

After the show, we walked back to La Plaza Nueva, where Lizzie, Katherine, and I sat down at a restaurant for dinner, although I ended up getting a gofre con chocolate (a waffle with chocolate). It was delectable. From the restaurant, we could watch everyone walk by in their Halloween costumes. Halloween is a new holiday in Spain, and the Spaniards haven't quite figured it out yet. They get dressed up in costumes, but because there isn't any tick-or-treating, they just walk around the city. I think not getting candy completely contradicts the whole point of Halloween, but who am I to judge? After a quick stop at the hotel, the three of us walked around looking for a discotheque, but the only one we found looked like it had a dress code and was expensive. So we ended up going back to the hotel and eating the chocolate we had bought earlier and watching more bad Spanish music videos. Happy Halloween!

Día Uno en Córdoba y Granada

2009-11-02T12:30:00.000-08:00

(La Catedral de Córdoba in Córdoba, Spain)

This past weekend was the BC class trip to Córdoba and Granada. Friday morning, I set my alarm nice and early so that I could get to the class' meeting place, the Hotel Wellington, by 8 am. Of course, I woke up half an hour past when my alarm went off, so I was slightly crunched for time.

I did get to the bus on time and even had a bus seat to myself, which was wonderful, and I was actually able to sleep during the 5 hour drive to Córdoba. When we got off the bus it was about 85 degrees. The weather channel had failed to mention that it was going to be that hot and I was not dressed for 85 degree weather. I thought I was going to pass out and blamed the Industrial Revolution for starting global warming.

We all went to a restaurant for a typical cordobés lunch which included salmorejo, (a soup similar to gazpacho with ham and egg on top) ensalada, (lettuce with vegetables - you are probably familiar) and flamenquines (which we think was ham wrapped in chicken and deep fried). We also had little Spanish-sized ice cream cups for lunch (meaning there was about 3 spoonfuls in each).

We then split up into groups to tour around Córdoba. Because this was a class trip, we had to listen to explanations of everything and take notes so that we can write an essay later about what we learned. All the explanations are in Spanish, so that leaves me with a whole lot of Internet research. Yipee.

We walked through La Puerta de Almodovar and into the old Arab neighborhood, where you can see all the winding streets and Arab architecture. We stopped at an old Arab house that was converted into a museum and talked about the basic design elements of an Arab home. These homes have a central, open-aired courtyard that has some sort of central water feature. The running water is serene and also provides a means of cleaning before praying to Allah. The courtyard is usually filled with plants or some kind of garden which also provide an element of tranquility. There are rooms that branch off of the four sides of the courtyard, and the two most important rooms are placed on the northern and southern sides. These homes were usually built with tile floors, stucco walls, and wooden roofs. The house we saw was very nice and had plants everywhere. Those water fountains they put in the middle of the courtyard can be dangerous though, as they are usually low to the ground or even just small pools. Many an uncoordinated person has fallen into those, I bet.

We also went to La Catedral de Córdoba, which used to be a huge mosque that has since been converted into a Catholic cathedral. The Arab architecture has been maintained, so there are still columns and plasterwork everywhere - even the Arab scriptures have been left on the walls. But in the conversion, chapels were added around the perimeter of the mosque and a huge altar area was built in the middle. The altar is in a huge domed area completely decorated with elaborate art and sculptures. The two styles are completely different and it's really nifty to see the two so closely interposed.

We had a bit of free time to walk around before we had to get back on the bus so Lizzie, Katherine, Don, and I wandered in and out of the gift shops and stopped for a Coke at a cafe. We were a bit late getting back as we got distracted by the last gift shop. So we hurried across the Puente Romano to the bus. We had another 2 hours on the bus before we got to Granada, so I had plenty of time to fit in another nap.

Because of traffic, the ride took longer than expected, but we eventually got to the Hotel Anacapri on Calle Joaquín Costa. After we dropped our stuff off in our rooms (I ended up sharing a room with Katherine) we met back downstairs in the lobby for an orientation and short walk around the historic neighborhood of Granada, the Albaícin. We saw the Plaza Nueva and the Alhambra (a Arab fortress/city on top of a hill overlooking Granada) lit up at night.

We then had the rest of the night free, so Lizzie, Katherine, and I wandered around the neighborhood. There is a lot if Arab influence, and the shops and restaurants reminded me a lot of Morocco. Even the way the old neighborhood looks was reminiscent of the old neighborhoods in Morocco. After we wandered past about a dozen hooka bars (where most of the other BC kids ended up) we sat down at a restaurant near La Plaza Nueva. I ordered a German hamburger (a hamburger with cheese, mustard, and sauerkraut) which I liked quite a bit. Because we were exhausted after such a long day (I don't know why I was so tired - I slept for probably 6 hours on the bus) we headed back to the hotel. Katherine and I watched Spanish music videos and laughed at how bad they were before we completely crashed.

¡Más fotografías!

2009-11-01T13:33:00.000-08:00

I've finally uploaded the pictures from Portugal! Now I'll start working on the ones from Córdoba and Granada. . .

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

Enjoy!

Mi Semana Muy Rápido

2009-10-29T15:49:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-28T13:57:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-27T14:08:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-27T10:34:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

(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?

2009-10-21T14:05:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

(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!

2009-10-19T15:35:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-18T12:45:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-17T12:52:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-16T12:09:00.000-07:00

(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?

2009-10-15T12:04:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-13T11:46:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-12T12:00:00.001-07:00

(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

2009-10-11T13:33:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

(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!

2009-10-09T16:23:00.001-07:00

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

Enjoy!

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

Una semana ocupada

2009-10-08T13:39:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

(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

2009-10-07T12:56:00.000-07:00

(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.

Día Dos en Marruecos

2009-10-06T14:19:00.000-07:00

(The Medina in Rabat, Morocco)

I volunteered to wake up first (I don't know why I do these things) so I stumbled on up to the bathroom. Apparently the hot water was not turned on yet, because I enjoyed a frigid shower/bath/avoid-the-water-dance. Lizzie and Christine got to sleep later and had warm showers. Humph. But then we all ate breakfast together (bread, rolls, apricot jam, this brown-sugar-almond dough, and tea) while watching "Friends" in English with Arabic subtitles, (the TV was on the entire time we were there).

We then had to run to meet the rest of the group and headed off in our bus to a language school in Rabat. Here, we had a discussion about Islamic and Western images of each other with a professor from the school. It was interesting to hear the professor's points of view about the importance of both modern and traditional education and the way in which she was raised by her mother and the way in which she raises her own daughters.

Then we got back on the bus and headed towards the Roman ruins of Chellah. En route, we were provided cookies and fruit (Arnd was really good about keeping us fed, and we all got really excited when we heard, "I have cookies!" from the front seat). We got to Chellah, which is the ruins of an ancient Roman fortress and city. There were gardens and the ruins of a mosque. While in Morocco, we weren't allowed to take pictures of Moroccan people without their permission or mosques and government buildings because of tradition and security issues. But because Chellah was a ruin, pictures were allowed. There was also a fountain to which women prayed for fertility (the fountain houses eels - I think you can figure out the symbolism there). Also near the fountain were about 25 stray cats that all live together. I was really excited about the cats, and some of my friends have pictures of me playing with the cats while everyone else was looking at the fountain.

We then got back on the bus and headed to the Mausoleum of King Mohammad V, which is really ornate and huge. We got there just as the Friday afternoon prayer was letting out (the most important of the week) and got to walk around while all the Moroccans were heading home for the traditional Friday afternoon couscous. Right near the Mausoleum was the half-finished remains of what would have been a huge mosque and tower. An earthquake way back when prevented it's completion, but you can tell how huge the place would have been. We were also told the three subjects that are taboo in Morocco: criticism of the current king, criticism of Islam, and the sub-sahara issue. We weren't allowed to mention any of these things so that we wouldn't insult anyone, but between taboo subjects and not taking pictures of things, I felt like I was going to slip up.

We then headed back to our homestays for our own lunch of couscous. Lizzie, Christine, Isabel, and I had the traditional chicken and vegetable couscous, which comes out in one huge communal bowl. The aunt and grandmother ate with their hands as is usually done, but the rest of us had spoons. There was so much couscous when we started that I didn't think we would make a dent, but I should have known better. The bowl was pretty much clean by the time we were done. Then they brought out a fruit platter, what they call milk (which I would call liquified sour cream), and more Moroccan tea.

We then headed back to our meeting point and our group walked to the Medina where we were scheduled to meet some Moroccan university students who would showing us around. I think we were all surprised that they were all guys. Two of the Peace Corps ex-volunteers we were traveling with (they're training to be the program's tour guides) turned to Lizzie and I and told us that Moroccan men are very forward and that we had to refuse any dates the guys offered us. This just made me nervous, per usual, but it was still a fun afternoon. We wandered around the town and the Medina and I was chatting with Ahmed (one of the guys who was a recent grad and had just started his own language school in Casablanca). He broached the boyfriend subject within the first half hour, so that was awkward, but I veered the conversation away from that topic pretty quickly. Too bad, though - he was tall, dark, and handsome, and both older and taller than me.

Our group consisted of Lizzie, Christine, Don (my Korean posse - you'll see the pictures) and I. The students took us to an outdoor cafe where we had tea and Hawaii sodas, although mine was infested by bees as soon as it was opened. There were more Moroccan students that joined us at the cafe, and by this point, it was about 3 or 4 Moroccan guys to each of us girls. I felt special. We chilled for a good 2 hours and just talked about Morocco and whatever else came up (I had a 45 minute conversation about cats with Brahim - I'm a crazy cat lady, but he likes cats, too, so it's okay). We also met this lady, Debbie, who is an American who recently decided to make a life change and just up and moved to Morocco without a house or job. She's since established herself, but I thought it was really cool that she had the guts to do that.

After a sketchy bathroom break, we all headed back to meet the whole group and after exchanging e-mails, our BC group headed to one of the homestays with two of the Peace Corps ex-volunteers, who spoke about their experiences. Both were stationed in rural Morocco, and had a lot of insight into the county. One of the girls mentioned that it's common to see men hanging out with their friends during the day while the women are at home. But she says that she thinks this is often misinterpreted by Westerners. While we see this as a women's rights issue, it's actually that the men are kicked out of the house during the day so that the women can finish all the housework without interruption. I thought it was an interesting perspective. The volunteers, Katie and Ana, also talked about their personal experiences, and Katie said for the first 9 months, she woke up every morning wondering if she could live with herself if she went home. After two years, they both consider themselves only proficient in their rural languages, but say that the Peace Corps was the most rewarding experience of their lives. Since hearing them talk, I've been through the Peace Corps' website, but it might be too intense for me. That's a life decision right there. Debbie also joined us at this talk, as did a study-abroad student who was living with the family for the semester. He was awkward, as he made comments that were both vague and somewhat insulting towards the Moroccan family and our BC group. Arnd had to pick up the mood after each thing this kid said, but he was successful, as everything he said with his German accent put most of us in a good mood.

So then on the schedule was the Hammam Baths. Moroccan people bath once a week at these public baths which are these huge, steaming, shower rooms (separate for men and women). Both parties wear only bottoms and you pay extra to have a professional scrub you down with a sandpaper-like cloth until you've rid yourself of the top few layers of skin (who needs those anyway?) Unfortunately, when our pack of American girls showed up, the price for that experience shot up to 50 Dirhams each. We all agreed that we could scrub ourselves. Now, I had put a great deal of thought into this process. Our tour guides said we could wear bathing suits, but recommended just bras and panties, and suggested that to fit in, we wear just panties. Well, I was sweating bullets over this all day, but when we got there, we all figured, "no regrets!" I'll let you guess what happened - I'll just say it was definitely liberating and that you come out of a Hammam Bath squeaky clean!

We went back in our small groups to dinner with the homestay families - at our place we had chickpea soup, bread, tea, and cookies (one kind that I thought was coffee flavored, but was actually black sesame seed dough balls - Lizzie and Christine recognized it from Korean cuisine). We gave the family some chocolate bars we had bought on the way back from the Hammam, and then stayed up and talked to Zenip (the 18-year-old teenage daughter who was our English-speaking contact in the family). We talked about boys, and she said, "of course I've had a boyfriend! The students at school will think you're weird if you don't." Christine has similarly never had a boyfriend either, so we comforted each other after hearing this cultural tidbit. It seems Arabic and Western cultures are maybe more similar than we thought. After a good hour of talking - Zenip was really curious about American dating, too - we all went to bed and slept like rocks.

Día Uno en Marruecos

2009-10-06T12:37:00.000-07:00

(Me with a baby camel on the Atlantic Coast of Morocco)

We have an awful lot to talk about. I have a feeling that some of these Morocco posts will be close to book-length, but they will be terribly exciting book-length posts, and definitely worth every second.

I got out of class on Wednesday at 7:30 and didn't consciously realize that the bus left at 10, so I ended up having to book it back to Julia's, switch bags, and run to the bus station (literally, at times). I did make it in time and was in a good mood, because Baquita had packed me two gigantic sandwiches. I had left a note on the table before I left for class saying I was going to be in a hurry and just needed some food to carry with me. I thought I was going to come home to Julia yelling at me about organization and good planning, but instead, I found two sandwiches on the counter. I was relieved to say the least.

The bus ride to Algeciras was eight miserably uncomfortable hours. The BC girls in front of Lizzie and I insisted on pushing their seats back as far as they would go (the only thing that stopped them was our crunched-up knees that weren't going to smush any further). After very little sleep, we got to Algeciras at about 6 am and chilled at the bus station until we met up with our group leaders at 8. There were enough BC kids for two 12 person groups, so they started calling off the names of the first group. With each name that was called, I wanted more and more to be in the second group, and thankfully, I was. We were basically an awesome bunch of BC kids plus two ladies from Spain, and our tour leader, Arnd, of the introspective variety complete with German accent. He sounded just like Will Ferrell in "The Producers" and this thought often forced me to laugh at inappropriate moments. Say to yourself, "Does anyone want to climb the mountain and eat some cookies" in a German accent and you'll know what I mean.

Following Arnd, we all got on the ferry that would take us to Tangier. We passed Gibraltar while on the boat, which was nifty. I always pictured it as a cliff, but it's more like a separate mountain - go figure. Once we got to Tanier and were walking to the port, these Moroccan ladies that worked for the ferry company pointed these little white medical gadgets (think Star Trek) at us with no explanation. We were all a tad alarmed, but then one of the Spanish ladies explained that they were checking to see if we had swine flu. I didn't, no worries.

We then exchanged some euros for Dirhams, the currency in Morocco, and took off in our little bus for downtown Tangier. We walked through a food market, which was so classic it could have been at Disney World and then headed to the DARNA women's center. DARNA offers cheap language and skill classes to Moroccan women so that they can find jobs to help support their families. A person is considered illiterate in Morocco if they speak less than 2 languages, so most women take jobs in factories and sewing shops, which require less written and oral skills. Two students, Hajar and Khadija, gave us a tour and then we all sat down to Moroccan tea and cookies. Moroccan tea is wonderful - I didn't think I would like it, but it is wonderful. It is green tea with mint leaves and a lot of sugar. They drink a ton of it with every meal, and in my opinion, Morocco even smells like Moroccan tea. We had the chance to talk to the two students about women's rights in Morocco. Apparently, the current king, Mohammad VI, has given more rights to women, such as raising the marriage age from 15 to 18, decreeing that women must actually agree to a divorce, and allowing polygamy only if there is a really good reason. Whatever floats your boat, I say. We then headed downstairs for lunch, which was chicken tangin (chicken, potatoes, and green beans cooked to delectability). I was seriously enjoying the food in Morocco and am definitely attempting these recipes when I get home.

We then got back on the bus and drove along the Atlantic coast towards Asilah. We stopped at a scenic outlook to take pictures, and noticed that there were camels strolling around on the beach. We were all excited to take pictures of camels when Arnd said, "The camels are for you. Go ride the camels," (remember the accent). So we did! It was very exciting and I took many pictures. The only scary part was that to let you off, camels literally fall to their knees. Camels are very large and this fall is quite a drop. You really have to hang on during this process and many curse words were uttered by others in my group as their camels plummeted to the ground. I had the opposite problem, though. My camel was grumpy and refused to let me off. It took the two owners 5 minutes to get my camel to fall down and I was very nervous, because the camel was making angry sounds and I thought it was about to take off down the beach.

We got back on the bus and drove to Asilah, where we toured the town and heard the call to worship that all mosques perform 5 times a day. It's actually a pretty cool effect to hear all the mosques in a city reciting these ancient Arabic prayers. Very Moroccan.

After buying snacks for 10 Dirhams each (or 10 euro cents) we got back on the bus for a 3 hour drive to Rabat, the capital of Morocco. Groups of 2 or 3 of us each stayed with a different host family in Rabat, and about 5 minutes before we met the families, Arnd gave us a sheet of pleasantries in Arabic we could say to the family. The only problem was that these phrases really get repetitive after a while - there are only so many times you can say "Thank you" (shukran) or "Delicious" (bnin) in one sitting. After about 3 minutes, my Arabic really comes to a halt.

But anyway, Lizzie, Christine, and I were one group and when we got to our host family's house we were really excited to see a whole table full of pastries, breads, and Moroccan tea waiting for us. One of the Spanish ladies, Isabel (who speaks only Spanish - good practice for me), also joined us for meals, and we ate a lot. The Moroccan family then took us on a walk around the Medina (a market neighborhood) and when we came back, the table was set again, this time with a huge pasta dish in the middle. We had thought the first spread was dinner, but apparently that was just appetizers. Everyone else was worried about having to eat again, but by this point, I was considering moving in.

So we ate again and then the three of us girls went to bed. Moroccan houses are pretty nifty. There are usually 2 or 3 floors and an open-air center courtyard, with all the rooms around the sides. The bedrooms have long benches that wrap around the walls, with mattress-like cushions on top. These are couches during the day and beds at night. The walls have some pretty intense tile-work and the fabrics on the furniture were really elegant. The bathroom was upstairs, and luckily for us, it was fully operational and had a western-style toilet. The grandmother had her own room, and the mom and kids had another. I think the dad's and uncle's rooms were upstairs somewhere. The three of us girls passed out pretty quickly, and while two of us were concerned about going to bed on a full stomach (I still don't understand the problem) one of us was making mental notes to check house prices in Morocco (I'm really good at eating and then sleeping).

Una Toalla, Por Favor

2009-09-29T12:47:00.000-07:00

(Railings at La Plaza de España in Sevilla, Spain)

Today was a much better day than yesterday. I first went to Historia del Presente, where I answered a question correctly (in Spanish and everything) and then, during my 3.5 hour break in between classes, I went with Lizzie to the bank and to the supermarket - she is still replacing things from her lost backpack. We stayed close to Carlos III, but it was good to see more of Getafe, the town in which the school is located. We also spoke in Spanish the whole time, so we were rather productive.

After lunch, I headed up to the computer lab to study some Spanish, and it just so happened that Guilermo was sitting at the computer next to me. We chatted for a bit, and he said we should meet up for an Intercambio sometime (language practice sessions between American and Spanish students). I agreed, so I'll keep you updated. I was pretty pleased with myself.

Then I went to Spanish class and found out how to order food in restaurants, bars, by myself, with other people, for other people, in formal situations, and informal situations, among other things. Personally, I think they've over-complicated the process a bit.

On my way back to Julia's, I renewed my metro card for October and finally bought toilet paper (I was pretty excited). Since the Morocco Exchange organization told us to bring our own toilet paper for the weekend and I wasn't about to attempt that conversation with Julia, I bought my own and hid it in my closet so that she doesn't find it, (hopefully). She came in a few minutes later (I tried not to look like I was hiding something) to tell me that it is my Saint's Day today (9/29). Today is Angel's Day, and I'm named after the archangel Gabriel, therefore, in Spain, today is kind-of like a birthday for me (although there is no cake involved - which, in my opinion, would make Saints' Days much more exciting). In the past, Spaniards celebrated their Saint's Day instead of their birthday, but in modern times, birthdays (and cake) have taken precedence.

Then during dinner I used the other half of what I learned in Spanish today (asking for objects and favors), to ask Julia if I could take a towel and sheet with me to Morocco (also on Morocco Exchange's packing list). Although she said no to the sheet ("it will be too heavy" was the excuse), she surprisingly said yes to the towel. I thought the idea of her linens being transported to Morocco would push her over the edge, but she agreed, (as long as I took only white ones, so that they can be bleached when I come back).

We also had pasta for dinner, (well I had pasta, she had liquified vegetables) which was a nice surprise, and ever since, I've been studying my Spanish. The Spanish words are currently fighting each other in my brain.

Más fotografías!

2009-09-28T15:07:00.000-07:00

I've uploaded more pictures! There are some in the new "Gigi in Madrid" album and all the photos from my trip in the "Gigi in Sevilla" album.

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

Enjoy!

Muchas Lágrimas

2009-09-28T13:01:00.000-07:00

(El Rastro in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday, my alarm went off 7 am and I couldn't think of why on earth I had set it so early. Then I remembered that Lizzie and I had decided to go to El Rastro (Madrid's weekly outdoor street market) with two of the girls from her residencia. Again, for those of you who know Morning-Gigi, you can imagine I was regretting this decision. I rolled over and turned on my computer, dimming the screen to the lowest level, and signed into my skype account (after several attempts at just guessing where the keys where). I asked Lizzie if she was still going, and she (after rolling herself out of bed) said yes, seeing as she needed to replace the lost contents of her stolen bag.

So after I shook myself of sleep, Lizzie and I headed to El Rastro. The other girls were hung-over and ended up not coming, despite it being their plan originally. But Lizzie and I had a good time. There were a ton of vendors and the market was huge. Jewlery, shoes, cloths, art, electronics, bags, and most everything you could think of was out for sale, and we just wandered from stand to stand (with about a thousand other people) looking at everything. I bought Hayley some souvenirs, and myself some t-shirts for Morocco and a jacket.

I got back to Julia's in time for lunch, and then studied for my Spanish test, wrote those extensive blog entries, and started sorting through my pictures. My friend, Scott, called and told me about BC's win over Wake Forest, so that was good to hear, and also mentioned that he rented a 31-foot RV to go to the BC vs. Notre Dame game in October. I can only imagine the stories I'll hear about that trip. . .

Today was intense. It started off quite nicely when I checked my e-mails and found out that my Spanish class had been cancelled and that I didn't need to be to the campus until 6. So I hunkered down and studied for my Spanish test (a thrilling substitution, I know).

The new maid, Baquita, started today and I like her a lot. She's easier to talk to than Julia and seems much more contemporary. She has nearly the opposite political views of Julia, (I don't know how she got through the interview) and I'm excited to have a potential ally in the house. We were chatting while she made the bed today (I get in trouble when I do it myself) and she put the sheets in a different order than usual. I didn't think anything of it, but when Julia came in later, she did not approve at all of the situation, and was rather upset about the incorrectly made bed.

And it gets better. Julia had some errands to run and told me to eat lunch whenever I got hungry, (this was also because my class was cancelled this morning, and Baquita was only making lunch for one person. I was just going to have the leftovers I had packed to take with me to school). So I studied until about 2:30 and then headed to the kitchen to get lunch, but all the doors were closed, and I didn't know if I should just barge in. So I went back to my room, and waited until Baquita opened the doors at about 3. I went in and was warming up my lunch in the microwave when Julia walked in. As soon as she saw me, she demanded why I hadn't eaten already. I told her I had been studying and she seemed to be very upset, (I think because now we were going to have to eat at the same table when we weren't eating the same food). I told her I could just eat in my room, but that's also not allowed, so I went to sit don at the table and then she got upset because I was using the wrong sized dish and the wrong fork. She kept saying how important organization is and how I should have eaten earlier (so much for eating whenever I got hungry). Then she started speaking really fast, and I started catching less and less of what she was saying, so then she started to get upset about my Spanish. She told me I should stop talking to Lizzie and speak only to my Spanish friends (of which I have none). She said Superior-Gabrielle was practically fluent after a month in Spain and that I must not be trying hard enough.

This is when I started to cry. Yes, right there at the dining room table while clutching my incorrect fork. Then she asked me why I was crying, and I said it was because I was frustrated, and she asked me if I wanted chocolate. I said no and apologized, asking if I could go to my room for a second. She said no, we were eating lunch. Then Baquita came in and tried to comfort me and Julia looked very confused by the situation (I hope Baquita is still here tomorrow). I excused myself after lunch was finished and went to the bathroom to wipe my tears with what little toilet paper I had left.

Then Julia's niece, Alexandra, (who appeared out of nowhere) started knocking on the bathroom door, so I came out and she tried to comfort me, as well. I told her it wasn't a big problem and that I was just having a moment of weakness, and she was very nice about, while Julia was shouting from the kitchen,"What's the matter with her?" Then I asked Alexandra why she was here, and she started tearing up as well. She wouldn't tell Julia what the matter was, so Julia left to go to the pharmacy and told me to go talk to Alexandra. I did, and we chatted for a while (she has it pretty rough right now - her dad has cancer, she can't find work, and she's having boy troubles). The boy troubles were the primary problem at the moment, and after discussing the situation, I told her that I thought she should call him, so she did, and afterwards said everything was better. Then Julia came back and asked where Alexandra was. I said she was in my room, (another thing about which Julia disapproved) but that she was doing better. At this point I needed to leave for class, and both Alexandra and I had finally stopped crying. When I came back for dinner, Julia and I were both in better moods, and my plate and fork were already set out for me.

I bet Baquita's wondering what she got herself into.

Día Dos en Sevilla

2009-09-27T14:25:00.000-07:00

(La Plaza de España from Los Jardines de Maria Luisa in Sevilla)

My alarm went off at 6 am, so not only were Lizzie and I the last girls in the hostel to go to bed, but we were also the first ones up. I slept in the top bunk, and for those of you that know Morning-Gigi, you know this was a bad situation. I couldn't really figure out how to get out of the bed, which was really squeaky, so I was making a lot of noise in my attempts. I ended up basically jumping off of the bed with my eyes closed and then remembering that my legs don't work so well in the morning. I chilled on the floor for a second before crawling to the bathroom.

While Lizzie was getting ready, I went upstairs to explore the hostel's lounge. It had a computer and a kitchen, but I greatly appreciated the couches, where I curled up for another 20 minutes of sleep. When Lizzie came up, I crawled out the window because I wanted to see the rooftop patio and couldn't figure out how to open the door. Overall, a really nice hostel for cheap.

It was still dark, but we decided to walk to La Plaza de España along El Paseo de Cristóbal Colon which follows El Río Guadalquivir. Lizzie's foot was still bothering her, but she was a trooper and insisted we keep going. There was a lot of construction along the way, but we passed some interesting buildings and El Torre de Oro (an old fortress tower). We also passed El Casino de la Exposición Teatro, where the streets were completely covered with garbage. You could still hear the music from inside and the street vendors were closing up the stands when we passed at about 8 in the morning. We stopped at a cafe near La Avenida de Isabel La Católica, where I ordered another chocolate croissant (I really like those) and Lizzie got another bocadillo con jamon y queso. Afterwards, we walked to La Plaza de España, which is this huge building that was built for the the Exposición Iberoamericana which Sevilla hosted in 1929. It was overcast and the lighting was good for pictures, so we took a lot. After our photo shoots we walked past the street vendors who were setting up in La Plaza. We both bought some pretty Spanish fans as souvenirs and then walked a little through El Parque de Maria Luisa.

I wanted to take a tour of El Palacio de la Condesa de Lebrija, which was back near El Barrio Centro, so headed back in that direction. We walked past La Universidad de Sevilla, which is in an old tobacco factory near La Plaza de España and then ended up taking the train back to La Plaza Nueva by way of La Avenida de la Constitución. We found the Condesa's palace, but it was closed (so family - that's what we're doing when we go to Sevilla). We stopped for lunch at Pan & Co., which is a chain fast-food Spanish restaurant we've been to before. They serve bocadillos and baguettes and we've been pleased both times we went there, (this time we both got kebab baguettes).

I've found that the food in Spain is different, for lack of a better word. They don't eat what we call meals - they eat appetizers (or tapas) pretty much exclusively. If you order fish, you will get a piece of fish with nothing else and if you order a tortilla, that's all you'll get. There are Spanish foods that I really like - paella and tortilla being two of them, but I've found that there isn't as much variety on a Spanish menu as there is that in the US. There's no pasta, few vegetables, and a lot of sandwiches. You don't get plates full of food and fruit is considered dessert. Lizzie also pointed out that Spanish food has less spiciness than American food. The Spaniards I know have long meal times, but eat the food very quickly and then just chat and drink for the rest of the time. Interesting differences, I think, but now, back to the story. . .

We then crossed the street to La Campana, a dessert shop. They had whole candied fruits, but I ordered a slice of postre de queso (a cheesecake with blueberries on top). The cheesecake was lighter than in the US and the dessert was very good. We then walked across the street to this cookie store. The tins were very pretty, but they were gouging people on cookie prices, so I bought an empty tin as a souvenir.

We then wandered in and out of clothing stores in the area and after sitting in a park for a while, we eventually headed back towards the bus station. We stopped to look in La Plaza de Armas, which is an old train station that was converted into a shopping mall, and then we walked next door to the bus station and got front row seats for the bus ride back to Madrid.

I tried to study for my Spanish test, but then fell asleep until my notes fell out of my hand and all over the aisle. After picking those up, I gave up on studying and slept for a while, fastening my seatbelt because the seats we were in were really high up and I was nervous about falling into the aisle myself. The bus stopped in Cordoba for a rest stop and a driver change, but the rest of the way home, I studied and chatted with Lizzie. The bus driver was very flirtatious and I would call him a creeper, although Lizzie says he was just friendly. But he did mention that my Spanish was very good, so brownie points for him.

We got back to Madrid at about 8:30, and decided to go to Fres Co. for dinner, (which is near the Alonso Martínez metro stop), which is one of the only buffet restaurants in Madrid. The food was pretty good - and they had pizza, so we were really happy (note to self - try onions, corn, zucchini, and cheese on pizza when you get home). But then when we went to leave, Lizzie's backpack was gone. Apparently, while we were eating, the guy at the next table over had stolen it. It had been by her chair, and she was upset because she sensed the guy was weird, but didn't think to move her bag. But luckily, most of her valuables were in her purse - all she had in her backpack was cloths, toiletries, our souvenir fans from Sevilla, and her glasses. It will be a pain to replace all of that and it's scary that he managed to grab that without either of us noticing.

So we headed back to the metro, guarding our purses with our lives. I unpacked once I got back to Julia's and started the process of uploading the 235 pictures I took in 2 days. It was a really good trip and Sevilla was really nice, and now I have three days to do all my homework before I leave for Morocco. Who does homework anyway?

Día Uno en Sevilla

2009-09-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

(A statue in front of La Plaza de Toros in Sevilla, Spain)

I'm back from Sevilla and am about to fill you in on every minute detail of my trip! Just kidding - I'll try to keep it at least somewhat condensed, but we all know how I enjoy rambling. . .

Lizzie and I headed to the bus station and went to the Daibus counter to buy tickets for our trip to Morocco next week. After successfully carrying out that conversation in Spanish, we had some time to kill, so we explored the bus station a bit and then just sat and talked. Lizzie mentioned the fact that her mother is a distant descendent of Korean royalty, and is by lineage, a Princess. I thought this was pretty exciting, and if I meet no other royalty on this trip, Lizzie totally counts.

The bus ride was 6 hours long, and I slept for most of it. I was relieved I was able to sleep, because we got to Sevilla at about 6:30 am and started the day right away. While we were waiting for it to get light out, we grabbed food from the vending machine (I had mini chocolate croissants) which constitutes breakfast #1 (yes, more are coming). We then bought maps and walked towards our hostel to drop off our stuff. On the way, we saw a cafe that looked really good, and since we figured we were going to need more sustenance for the day, we stopped for breakfast #2. I ordered a sugar-coated croissant from the case, but Lizzie was more adventurous and ordered something (which neither of us understood) from the menu. It turned out to be little pieces of fried toast, which was delivered with a packet of sugar. Interesting concept, but rather greasy. After we paid, we found the hostel, but were told that we couldn't check in until 11:30 (it was now 8). This threw a wrench into our plans, as by 11:30, we were planning on being on the other side of Sevilla. So we needed a planning session - and we stopped at a cafe near the hostel to change out of our traveling cloths and eat breakfast #3 (by this point, we were eating just because of our lack of plans). Lizzie got a bocadillo con jamon y queso and I got toast with marmalade. We whipped out our maps and figured we could tour La Plaza de Toros before going back to the hostel, and after dropping off our stuff, head to the main square in Sevilla.

So we bought tickets for the tour of La Plaza de Toros, and after going through some gift shops, returned for our scheduled time. The tour was pretty interesting (especially because my Countess had been here) and we saw the bullring, chapel, stables, and attached museum. There was a section in the museum devoted to Juan Belmonte, the matador who was also mentioned by my Countess, so I took plenty of pictures there.

Afterwards, we headed back to Olé Backpacker (our 9-euro-a-night hostel), checked in, and dropped off our backpacks. We walked through La Plaza Nueva and by City Hall, and then along Avenida de Constitución. We checked out some info on a walking tour, but then figured we could do that ourselves for free, so we stopped for ice cream, (because three breakfasts just do not fill you up) and got in line for La Catedral de Sevilla (La Catedral de Santa María de la Sede). It is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world and the third-largest church in the world, and it was pretty amazing. The altar was gigantic and so was the organ, and every surface was carved or sculpted. We climbed up the tower of Giralda (the cathedral used to be a mosque, and this is one of the remaining elements) and after 34 floors, we reached the top and had some pretty fantastic views of the city. This is also where all the bells for the cathedral are kept and one rang while we were up there, so that was cool, too.

After La Catedral, we walked across the plaza to El Alcázar, an old palace in Sevilla. Many of the buildings in Sevilla were strongly influenced by Moorish culture, and the palace is one of the best remaining examples of mudéjar architecture. We wandered around the palace, but the really nifty part was the gardens, which went on forever and were gorgeous (complete with fountains, flowers, statues, and peacocks).

Then we walked to El Barrio de Santa Cruz for lunch and sat down at a restaurant. The place seemed really nice and both the rooms and food were presented really nicely. Too bad the chef didn't know how to cook, or doesn't believe in spices, or something. Lizzie got a traditional Spanish tortilla, which was really dry, and I got Huevos Flamenco, which was ham and vegetables covered in raw egg. I wouldn't recommend it. The food was pretty bad, and apparently in Sevilla, if you eat the bread they put on your table, they will charge you for it. Tricky.

After lunch, we walked to El Barrio Central, where there is a lot of shopping. The walk was really interesting, because of all the narrow, winding roads. But I have to give credit to Lizzie for the map-reading. Whenever I was in charge of the map, we had to stop at every curve in the road to see if we were going in the right direction. Usually we weren't. We also passed some roman columns on the way, which were just tucked into someone's backyard. In El Centro, Lizzie bought new shoes, seeing as she was practically limping with the ones she had on.

We then headed back towards El Barrio de Santa Cruz, where a guide book had said there were good flamenco shows for free. We ate dinner at a tapas bar (croquettes de queso, chicken curry, and chicken and couscous) and then went to investigate the flamenco bar. Although the doors opened at 8 pm, the first show wasn't until 11, so again we had time to kill. We tried to get back to the main street, but every time you turn a corner in Sevilla, the street you think will be there isn't, and by the time you turn round, that street is gone, too. It was very picturesque and deserted, and seemed almost like an empty movie set. We made it back to the main street, Santa Maria la Blanca, and went in and out of some gift shops. We then walked through the Jardines de Murillo and back to Santa Maria la Blanca, where we stopped for ice cream and chatted.

At about 10, we walked back to the flamenco bar to get good seats and talked until the show started. The place was pretty busy and there were three performers - a guitarist, a singer, and a dancer. They were very good and had attitude, too! The singer kept shush-ing all the rowdy audience members. The show was an hour long and very fun to watch. But distracting from the performance was this couple sitting right next to the stage. The man was much older than the girl and the PDA that was going on was way past acceptable. The first thing Lizzie and I said after the show was done was, "Did you see that couple?!" But the flamenco was very good, and I was glad we went.

I walked and Lizzie limped back to the hostel and found our room (an 8-person female dorm). The bathroom, although small, was very clean and we could rent towels from the front desk for a euro. I thought at one point I had locked myself into the hallway, because I locked the door behind me (as it had been locked before) but then my key wouldn't open it again. I took the elevator down to the front desk, and told the security guard about it, but he seemed unconcerned, so I just passed out in bed hoping that no one else was going to need to use that door.

Un Viaje a Sevilla

2009-09-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

(A fountain in El Parque de Retiro)

My only class today was Spanish at 2:30, but I woke up early and did most of my homework for the weekend. And I'm glad I did, seeing as I'm leaving for Sevilla in a few hours!

Lizzie and I are taking the night bus tonight, and will get to Sevilla early tomorrow morning. We are staying in a hostel tomorrow night and will come back late on Saturday. We don't really have a plan as of yet (or even a map for that matter), but we have a tourbook and directions for a walking guide of the city. I'm really excited, but I need to go pick out my attire, as it is going to be hot and we will be walking a lot.

I won't have internet access while we're there and won't be able to update you for a few days, but I'm sure I will have some really long blog entries when I come back as compensation. Hasta luego!

El Tupperware ha Desaparecido!

2009-09-23T13:53:00.001-07:00

(A sculpture by Juan García Ripollés in El Parque de Retiro)

Today, my Cultura y Civilización class started - at 8:30 am. Now this may not seem early to many of you, but remember that in Spain, days are generally 3 to 4 hours later. So when you look at it that way, this class essentially started at 5 in the morning. I had to get up without sunlight - and that's a struggle for me with or without the time difference. Ugh. But the class will be interesting. We take a lot of culture trips around Madrid and Spain, and actually have very little classroom time - yay! Also this morning, a representative from the Morocco Exchange organization came to talk about the trip. Sounds like it will be quite the weekend. He mentioned Hammam Public Baths - where you get "exfoliated" by some Moroccan women while wearing a bathing suit and sitting in a big bathtub. "It's an adventure," he encouragingly added.

Today in Economics, we had a debate about an article by Bjorn Lomborg - who essentially argues that deforestation is an exaggerated issue and that the real problem is the poverty level in developing nations. I had to defend him, and did a darn good job. I had quotes and everything. I really love debating and get to talk in my lawyer-voice, so I had a good time. I then rode home on the train with Sebastian, one of the guys in my class. He's pretty lovely and is from Sweden, so that's nifty. I hope I didn't intimidate him with my lawyer-voice. . .

Julia's maid is having foot surgery next week, and won't be returning to work. I asked Julia how long she's known BC (that's how her name sounds - I have no idea how it's spelled), and she said 7 years! And although another woman come for an interview today, Julia didn't like her one bit. According to Julia, "she did everything all wrong," and we spent a good fifteen minutes looking for a tupperware container that the interviewee did not put away in the right place. I don't think Julia will be asking her back anytime soon.

The lightbulbs of the chandelier in my room have slowly been going out - I'm down to three out of the original six. So today, I told Julia about this seemingly simple situation. I had expected her to point me in the direction of the extra lightbulbs or tell me it would be fixed tomorrow when BC will be here, but instead she told me to just use my lamps instead. I wouldn't mind using these lamps, but the problem is this: the decoration in my room is 70's metallic-chic and the lamp-shades are made of aluminum (or some sort of metal-type substance - I wouldn't consider myself an expert in identifying lampshade materials). As you may know, light does not shine through metal and I find these lamps to be really quite pointless. So now in addition to toilet paper, I need to conserve the use of my chandelier, because once the other lightbulbs go out, I will be sitting in the dark next to my impractical lamps.

Un Tarde en el Parque

2009-09-22T14:53:00.000-07:00

(El Parque del Retiro in Madrid, Spain)

Today, on the way to El Parque de Retiro, Lizzie and I ran into our advisor, Ana, on the metro. We chatted for a bit, and Ana said my Spanish was improving, so I was pleased. I asked her how her son's first few weeks of school had been (he's just started kindergarten) and Ana said that he has cried every morning for two weeks and is under the impression that he can declare a weekend whenever he sees fit. Ah, the good ol' days. . .

Lizzie and I spent the afternoon walking around the park, taking pictures, eating popsicles, and practicing our Spanish. We always have really good conversations, (usually after we switch back to English - the Spanish conversations are rather succinct) and it was good to be outside on such a lovely day. One thing I noticed while we were at the park was the surprising number of stray cats that hang out there. During the three hours Lizzie and I were at the park, we probably saw 40 cats! I asked Lizzie why she thought there were so many kittens, and she said that they all looked full-grown to her. But they looked so much smaller than my cats back home. . .

I got back to Julia's just in time for dinner and found out that she is on a liquids-only diet for the next three weeks. Luckily, I am not forced to partake in this nonsense, and she gave me a piece of fish that was the size of my head. Also, to be sociable, I asked her to go to a movie with me sometime. She agreed, but insisted that we go to a movie with subtitles, for my own sake.

Then to avoid doing homework, I went through all of Katie's pictures. That girl's got talent! My favorite was in the 365 Day Self-Portrait collection - the one where she is standing in front of the wall of paints and only certain colors pop out of the B&W background. I was mighty impressed - most of my pictures aren't even straight!

Escuela

2009-09-21T13:35:00.000-07:00

(The Spanish Flag at El Alcázar in Segovia, Spain)

Today I had only Spanish and Economics. My Spanish class moves very quickly, and up to now it hasn't been a problem as I've studied the material in prior classes. But today we started moving into some new topics, and unfortunately, I'm going to have to start spending more quality time with my grammar book. I find it is very difficult to understand Spanish grammar points when they are taught in Spanish (which I don't understand in the first place - you see the dilemma). Luckily, Lilia and I meet up after class and do the homework. She explains the lessons to me in English (they make so much more sense that way!) and I provide her the use of my dictionary and the pleasantries of my company.

Every Monday in Economics, we have a quiz on the readings we were assigned for the weekend. As today was our first quiz and I always get nervous about such things, I spent quite a bit of time studying the reading (upwards of four hours). Turns out, I studied the wrong thing, and I realized this when I looked at the first question on the quiz. What had happened was that we were told to pick up a packet in the library which had all the readings for the next three weeks. I assumed that the first reading would be for the first week, but they don't seem to follow that same logic in Spain. Turns out, the first reading was for the third week, the second reading was for the first week, and the third reading was for the second week. Many of the other kids made the same mistake, but I was peeved, seeing as I spent so much time studying. Luckily, my over-achieving mannerisms saved me a bit, as to get ahead, I had read the second article, as well (but all the same, I would have preferred a quiz on the first article - thank you very much).

After our quiz, the professor made the announcement that he couldn't figure out how to get his powerpoint to work and that because of the technical difficulties, class would have to be rescheduled. So far, this class has been pretty scattered, but I think it will start to shape up soon. . .

I do like the students in Economics, though. I sit next to a girl from Germany (who sounds Australian because studied abroad for a year in Australia), and I took the train back to Madrid with three other girls from the class, two from Great Britain and one from Sweden. Interesting tidbit: when speaking English, most Europeans have British accents, because they learn British-English, not American-English. This makes it all the more difficult for me to resist the urge to imitate them (I actually slipped up today and said "hello" with a British accent, but I don't think anyone noticed. . .)

Instead of taking the metro home from Nuevos Ministerios, I walked to get some exercise. It took me much longer than expected, but I didn't mind, seeing as the weather was nice and I had on my spiffy new shoes. Julia and I had a dinner of calamari and artichokes (not as bad as it sounds) and I have been reading Economics articles ever since. Hopefully the right ones.

La Noche Blanca

2009-09-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

(La Gran Vía during La Noche Blanca in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday was a wonderful day full of sleep! After waking up at 11 am and doing some reading for Economics, I watched TV in my room, which turned into me sleeping in my chair, and then crawling back into my bed for a proper nap.

Julia woke me up to go to church at 7. The church is very popular and has a mass almost every hour, but when we arrived there was a wedding limo parked out front. Although it was fairly apparent that there was a wedding running late inside, Julia walked right in and sat down in her usual pew. I followed, somewhat meekly, and sat down next to a woman in a full-out ballgown. We watched the end of the wedding, which was complete with a flamenco band that followed the couple around, and when the couple was half-way down the aisle, the priest started the next mass. Catholicism is very efficient in Spain.

We came back to Julia's after a 25 minute mass for a dinner about which I was a tad nervous. The woman that cooks and cleans for Julia cooks all the food for the weekends on Fridays. The problem: refrigerating food doesn't seem to be as big a concern for Spaniards as it is for Americans, and our dinner, salmon fillets and potatoes, had been sitting on the counter since Friday afternoon. It was now Sunday night. The potatoes tasted a little off, but the salmon tasted like salmon, and I'm still alive, so I guess everything was all right. . .

Our dinner conversation focused on Superior Gabrielle, as I have taken to calling her. Superior Gabrielle was an exchange student Julia hosted a few years back, who among other things, "had many interests, spoke fluent Spanish, and learned French while she was here." Julia mentions Superior Gabrielle's accomplishments quite a bit.

Then I had to prepare for the night's festivities. Last night was La Noche Blanca in Madrid, a festival where there are about a hundred free performances, tours, art displays, and activities put on throughout the city all night. Lizzie and I met up outside the Santiago Bernabeu fútbol stadium to see a Cirque du Soleil show, "The Dark Side of the Earth." There was plenty of symbolism hidden in that half-an-hour, but even during the parts that were way over my head, it was fun to watch how flexible and coordinated those people are.

We were on the metro headed to La Plaza de España when we ran into two BC students, Julia and Don. They were headed for El Museo de America for a techno show, so we followed them through some creepy park (with not near enough street-lamps) to the museum only to find out that the show was full. So the four of us headed back to La Gran Vía, where a lot of the night's activities were. The line to get into the kitchens of El Palacio Real were ridiculously long, so while Julia and Don were going to try and find another performance, Lizzie and I decided to stay and enjoy Gran Vía.

We wandered through the streets and happened upon a jazz concert being given in a park. We plunked ourselves down and listened to the music while talking and people-watching. When that concert was over, we wandered some more until we found a Tupperware Orchestra, where about 50 audience members were picked and told to play a specific note at a specific time. Music and/or disaster ensued, depending on how you look at it, but it was fun to watch. We then wandered some more (passing these two gentlemen peeing on a dumpster) and found ourselves back at Sol. We stopped for ice cream at a restaurant on one of the main streets and then headed home at about 3 am. On the metro was a friendly and very plastered girl who was trying to convince us that we were in Tokyo. She then proceeded to sit down in the middle of the packed subway car and shout questions at us. But she was very well-meaning and told me to hold on to my purse as there were lots of pickpockets around. I told her to do the same.

An update on the toilet paper situation: there is none and has been none for two days now. Luckily, my mother always instructed me in the art of carrying too many tissues with me, so that has been coming in handy. This is really quite an important problem in my life right now, so I thought you should all be informed.

Today I've been trying to get ahead on my homework, seeing as Lizzie and I will be in Sevilla all next weekend and I will probably not be doing homework during that time. Today we booked our hostel and on Tuesday we are going to make ourselves some kind of itinerary. Lizzie and I, a lack of Spanish skills, and a weekend in Sevilla: what could go wrong?

Mucho dinero!

2009-09-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

(Chocolate in Limón y Menta in Segovia, Spain)

Lizzie and I (Amanda had to go to get her crashed computer fixed) were shopping all day today at La Vaguada, a mall near our end of town. There were a lot of stores and it was an interesting look into the Spanish style. We stopped for lunch at a sandwich shop in the mall and had these fantastic baguette sandwiches with chicken, roasted red peppers, caramelized onions, and some sort of mayo dressing. I understood all of the questions the waitress asked us and I was very proud of myself.

I also found shoes! I had been getting nervous, as I hadn't seen anything I really liked in the mall, and this little store near the metro stop was my last shot. It was a sneaker store, mostly with shoes for running purposes, but I had my eye on some Pumas. I asked the man if they had a size 41 (size 9.5 here in the US - bigfoot, I know - and I rounded down) and he gave me a look. He said they only carried that size in a couple of styles, so while I tried on one pair he actually ran to another store to grab a different style in my size. I ended up getting a pair of Nike Airs for 75 euros (mucho dinero in US dollars) and when I was checking out, the saleslady asked me where I like to run. I said, "Oh, I don't run," and she gave me a look, too. But again, I was very proud of myself for having had all these shoe conversations in Spanish.

When we arrived at our respective homes, Lizzie and I decided that we should book all of our traveling tickets sooner rather than later. So I have now officially booked a roundtrip flight to Rome in December, and a roundtrip bus ticket to Seville for next weekend. So to summarize - I spent a lot of money today. But at least my computer was working okay - Lizzie was first on a fraudulent site trying to buy tickets to Rome, then ended up having to pay 20 euros more for her ticket, because the price changed mid-purchase.

Then tonight, a bunch of us met up at Sol to go out for tapas and churros. If they had just been drinking, I wouldn't have braved the cold - but they got me with the promise of food. We wandered through La Plaza Mayor and went to this little tapas bar called Cerveceria Montaditos. I got a Chocolate Blanco, Chocolate con Leche, y Almendras sandwich, which was quite delectable. We then went back to La Chocolateria for chocolate con churros, so I was quite pleased with the way the night turned out. We even managed to leave in time to take the metro home, and I was back to Julia's by 2:15 am.

Hace frío!

2009-09-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

(The view from El Torre del Alcázar in Segovia, Spain)

Well, it is ridiculously cold here. I walked outside this morning and it could have been snowing. So while I came to Spain to get away from the cold weather, it seems to have followed me. Blurgh!

Yesterday, I tried to wear a pair of shoes that weren't my flip-flops; I deeply regretted this decision. And because of the various battle-wounds my feet sustained after yesterday's valiant attempt, during today's freezing weather, I could only wear my flip-flops. At least they were waterproof and resisted all the rain I walked through. . .

So for tomorrow, the plan is to find and buy shoes. This is more difficult than you would think, as the stores in Madrid are very boutique-y and expensive and one of my fears in life is pushy sales-people, especially pushy sales-people speaking only Spanish. But Amanda, Lizzie, and I have officially scheduled a day of shopping tomorrow at a mall near here, so hopefully somewhere in its 300 stores, I will find a decent pair of shoes.

I had a fantastic lunch today - pasta salad with shrimp, cheese, and some sort of Spanish vegetable that I have yet to identify. My friends usually only get a ham and cheese sandwich, and my friend, Lindsay's, host-mother packs her cookies pasted together with butter. We've been trying to figure out this strange combination, and Lindsay thinks it's part of her host-family's strategy to "fatten her up like a Christmas ham."

The door at Barclay's beat me up today. I went to exchange some US money for euros at their branch near Julia's apartment. I walked in, apparently after hours, and the only guy in the place told me I'd have to come back tomorrow. I turned and was simply trying to leave with my dignity, but I managed to embarrass myself in the entry-hall between their two sets of double doors, as well. I now know that you have to let the first door close before the second door will open, but I was unaware of this useful tidbit this afternoon, so I was pushing and pulling on the second door to no avail. Then Mr. Come-Back-Tomorrow said to wait for the first door to close, and when it did, the second door popped open and scraped my thumb. Then I had to walk in the cold, with beaten-up feet and an injured finger, back to Julia's. I think I will go to a different bank tomorrow.

But on the plus side, I have already finished all my homework for the weekend and only have a few pages of an Economics article left. In my opinion, the Carlos III idea of homework is really much better than that of BC and I hope this general mentality of not-wasting-your-free-time-with-work continues.

Mejor Español!

2009-09-16T12:20:00.001-07:00

(A house near El Palacio de La Granja in San Ildefonso, Spain)

Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I took a Benadryl and then pretty much passed out. . .

Yesterday I felt really good about my Spanish as several people told me I'm improving. That's a relief - it's about time. I also got back from classes early so I decided to go on a walk around Julia's neighborhood. I walked down a street called Paseo de Habana, and then was slightly lost, but found Paseo de Castellana pretty easily, which is the main street in Madrid, so that took care of that. I wandered past the soccer stadium at Santiago Bernabeu, mostly waiting to see if any lovely soccer players were wandering about, but I didn't see any likely candidates. I wandered a little further towards central Madrid, but then had to turn around and come back for dinner. Julia and I chatted for probably an hour and a half, so that was nice. I found out she does a lot of knitting and cross-stitching, so I tried to bring up the subject of quilting. But horror upon horror - there is no word for quilting in Spanish!! I looked in my dictionary and online - I even showed her some pictures of mom's quilts from the website - nada! Quite appalling!!

I was very proud of myself today because I helped a person with directions in Spanish. As some of you may know, I am often lost. But apparently, I look as though I know where I'm going, because I get asked for directions a lot, (people just don't understand the danger this might cause - I once sent some kids looking for "the Garden" to Boston Commons - whoops). But today I was in the metro station and some fellow babbled at me in Spanish, but I caught enough words to know that he wanted to go to Sol. I actually responded (in Spanish) with correct directions and he seemed to understand me. Hence my being very proud of myself.

Also, my economics class was really interesting today. The professor put five words up on the board (wind, cannons, property rights, climate, and diseases) and we had to figure out, in groups, why each of these words contributed to Europe's economic growth. Now they weren't as simple as you would think, and it turned into quite the puzzle. For example, the answer to the second riddle wasn't that Europe had good cannons and won wars. It was that Europe knew that you needed a perfectly-sized cannon-ball for the cannon to work (too big, it explodes, too small, it just drops). This technology led to the development of steam engine pistons (the pistons need to be the exact right size in order to work), and it was Europe's steam engines that fueled the Industrial Revolution. Fascinating. There was extra credit for the group that figured out the most, and my group tied with Germans. Pretty darn good, I'd say.

And while "Beedle el Bardo," is slow going, I think it will help a lot with improving my Spanish. For each story, I have to look up every other word the first time through, but the second time through is a lot easier. Plus, by the end, I'll have quite a bit of magic vocabulary up my sleeve, so I'll be able to whip that out whenever needed. . .

Perdido en Las Pyrenees

2009-09-14T12:33:00.000-07:00

(Tiles in Segovia, Spain)

More classes today! I had Spanish, which was good. We learned about tatuajes y piercings (tattoos and piercings), so I guess if I need to strike up a conversation with Julia about either of those topics, I will be covered. . .

Then I wandered on over to the bookstore with a girl from my Spanish class to get the book we need for the class (the only book I need to buy this semester - a nice change from the $700 I spend on books at BC each semester). I also bought these nifty plastic envelope things that people use here instead of binders (I really do love school supplies).

My other purchase was "Los Cuentos de Beedle el Bardo" by J.K. Rowling. Now I know this may normally be below my reading level, but seeing as it is in Spanish, it is really quite advanced. Here's my strategy: first, finish reading "The Spy Went Dancing" in english. Second, read "Los Cuentos de Beedle el Bardo" in spanish. Third, read a more difficult book in spanish that I have already read in english (I'm thinking "Angels and Demons"). Fourth, well, I guess I should wait and see if I get past Beedle el Bardo. . . But I think it will be more productive for me to try and read in spanish than just watch TV in spanish, because I will remember the words better if I see them. So that's the plan.

My second and last class of the day was Economics - I sat next to a girl named Lily from Singapore. The actual professor was back today, and looks younger than I do, but he seems really nice. Interesting story: he apologized for his appearance (shorts and a T-shirt) and said that he needed to feel comfortable in his clothes today because yesterday he was lost in the Pyrenees mountains and was ultimately rescued by a helicopter. I'm not even making this up to make my life sound more interesting. We were told he was at a economics conference, so I'm not sure how he managed to get lost in the Pyrenees, but he seemed pretty frazzled by the whole experience.

After class, the BC kids stayed to ask him if we could take the final early, as the test is scheduled for January 14th. We were all pretty nervous about it, because other kids have been getting turned down left and right, (which means they will have to drive to BC on their test date, take the test under the administration of BC staff, and fax the test back to Spain. Not only is this really inconvenient, but I know I would forget everything about a class I haven't taken for a month!) Luckily, he said we could take the final early, which is a huge relief. He also said we could hand in our final papers early, as well, or take the extra time if we need it. Yay for economics!

I have officially bought a roundtrip plane ticket to Lisbon, Portugal for the third weekend in October. The ticket was only 47 euros and people seem to love Lisbon, so I jumped at the chance. I e-mailed the info to a couple of friends, and I've started to hear back from them already, so it's shaping up to be a pretty good trip.

I have already finished my homework - 200 words about what we do if we were invisible for a day (mine involved reading the secret archives in D.C. and then sitting on the stage for a broadway performance of Wicked in NYC), so now I think I will attempt to read a page of "Beedle el Bardo." I'll report back.

Más fotografías!

2009-09-13T14:04:00.000-07:00

I have also added more pictures to the Shutterfly site. There are a few more at the end of the first album, and I've added a new album for the pictures of Segovia.

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

Enjoy!

Un día aburrida

2009-09-13T13:43:00.000-07:00

(Madrileños enjoying their city)

Because of my cold, I haven't moved from my room all day, so I've been watching TV in Spanish, trying to improve my language comprehension. The hardest part for me about Spanish is understanding when other people speak, so I figure keeping the TV on might help after a while. A lot of the TV shows here are American, with Spanish dubbed over, and I watched Switch with the voices not following the mouths. There is also a commercial for El Corte Ingles that has Habanera as background music (my senior year NYSSMA vocal solo). Each time it plays I'm tempted to whip out my opera, but I think that might alarm Julia a bit. I've watched the news, the sports channel, Fama (a dance competition), and am currently on the Spanish Amazing Race. It's been a pretty productive day.

Besides TV, I've read more of my book and an article for my Economics class about the rise and fall of the economic giants: the Netherlands, United Kingdom, and US. Not too bad, actually.

Because of the lack of tissues in Julia's house, I've been using toilet paper for my runny nose. I've gone through about three rolls, and have had to go riffling through closets for more. I have had to start preserving as I think we are nearly out.

I showed all my Shutterfly pictures to Julia today, and we chatted for a while about them. She was alarmed when she saw the picture of my keys, because now she thinks someone is going to break into the house, but I'm pretty sure she was only joking. Here's a situation when that language comprehension is important. . .