La Teoría de La Conspiración

(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.