Una noche en Madrid

(Chueca, a barrio in Madrid, Spain)

This morning I had a meeting with Ana, my advisor at Carlos III.  I thought the meeting was for 1:20, but I had forgotten that it had been pushed back, so I arrived an hour early.  But everything worked out nicely, because I happened to meet my friend Lizzie in the train station and we ended up spending the day together.  

We toured around Carlos III, taking pictures, exploring, and speaking in Spanish.  That's right - folks, at least an hour's worth on conversation from your's truly!  I headed off to my meeting and Lizzie headed off the the computer lab to work on her classes.  Unfortunately, when I got to Ana's office, I saw two other students in line ahead of me, (apparently meetings run on Spanish time, too) but this also ended up working out, because I made a couple of new friends.  One of the girls, Callan, has already spent over 1,000 euros - her computer, glasses, and Ipod all broke within the few days we've been here.  But my sympathy wore off a tad when I found out that she and the other girl, Theresa, are spending the weekend on the Southern coast of Spain with the Prince of Sweden.  I'm not even joking.  I told Lizzie that we're not trying hard enough to meet royalty, but don't worry, I'm on it.

My rest of my meeting was less exciting, as no titled millionaires were in attendance, but I did successfully fix my cell-phone (which involved having a conversation on the phone in Spanish) and pick most of my classes.  I will be taking Economia Historica de España (in English), Cultura y Civilización en España (in Spanish), Historia del Presente (in Spanish) or Sociología de Género de España (both are taught in Spanish), and two Spanish grammar classes.  I will take the class taught in English with Spanish students, and the classes taught in Spanish with American students.  And if you counted, yes - that's four out of five classes in Spanish.  Adiós, GPA!

After my meeting, I went to lunch with the other student who had been in my meeting, Kevin.  He arrived late because he was an orientation leader at BC and has already been robbed.  While he was on the metro, someone stole his wallet from an inside pocket of his backpack (I was amazed).  They took all his credit cards, money, and driver's license.  His first phone call back to the US was to tell his dad they needed to cancel all his credit cards.  I decided I would be the worst thief ever and also decided never to use my backpack in Madrid.

I met up with Lizzie again and we took the train back to Madrid, where we decided to stop at El Cortes Ingles, the biggest department store in Madrid.  It was rather expensive for my taste, but they did have a supermarket, about which I was really excited.  I was debating whether I should buy a bag of apples or a bag of spanish candy for my room - I'll let you guess how that played out (Hint: there are about twenty candy wrappers sitting on my bed right now. . .)

Afterwards, Lizzie and I stopped to get ice cream near the metro stop, as it was still a few hours until dinner. It's funny how quickly you adjust to the schedule here.  Dinner is usually at around 9 pm, so 6:30 is still legitimately snack time.  

I headed back home for dinner: sardines and noodle salad.  Julia was eating her sardines, bones and all, so I followed suit.  They weren't bad, but then after I finished she showed me how to take the bones out.  This is not a conversation I ever practiced in Spanish class, so I was rather confused and hope sardine bones aren't poisonous or something.  But besides this bump in the road, our conversation was pretty decent.  She told me that my Spanish has improved and also told me I have pretty hair - brownie points for Julia!  Then I successfully asked about laundry (done every Monday) and finding the news in Spanish (my TV now works).  Speaking Spanish really gets you places in this city.

Seeing as it is Friday night in a city that never sleeps, my friends and I decided that we needed to go out and experience Madrid's nightlife.  (We went out a couple nights ago to Chueca, a barrio much like NYC's Village, but our lack of Spanish ended us up in a lesbian dance club.  We ended up leaving to go to a mexican restaurant, but that night had petered out a bit. . .) I, a dancing fool, suggested that we go to a dance club (or discotheque, en español).  People thought I was brilliant (and who was I to argue?) so they all called their sources and found a club downtown that we are going to go to.  Want to know the best part?  The clubs don't really get going until 2:30 am, so I'm going to be leaving my room at about 1 am.  I'm pretty darn excited, but I'm currently having issues with my bag (I'm sure you're dying to know the details, so I will elaborate).  First, to get into Julia's apartment, I need to use four keys.  Now, these aren't your run-of-the-mill normal US keys, these are honkingly-enormous keys that look they could get you into the Pentagon.  These keys do not fit into my wristlet bag (my standard night bag) and when we went to Chueca, I literally had to bring my entire purse, just for these keys.  I most certainly do not approve of this situation and must now leave you so that I may channel all my creativity into producing a solution.