Una Semana de Chocolate

(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.