A Little of This and a Little of That

Conspicuous?

• I did walk into a tree the other day.
• Sometimes I might look lost, which is because I am lost. My extreme directional problems + this ridiculously twisted, confusing city = frequent confusion.
• Our group is around 100 Americans, which makes for a loud mess of English in the street. That’s when I want to hide in a bush.

But actually, I’m NOT conspicuous when I’m alone and with my mouth shut :)
• It’s not uncommon for people to ask me for directions (I can’t help them unless they were asking where the best ice cream stores are). For example, a British man asked me for directions in Spanish. It made me too happy. Finishing our conversation in English, I walked away thinking, I can’t help you sir, but I just simply love your British awk-cent.
• I’ve had 6+ Spaniards tell me that I look Spanish.


Favorite?

• Food:
1. croquetas- delicious fried rolls stuffed with mashed potatoes and minced meat.
2.The ice cream- (surprised at all?) considering it still gets to 95 here, it's so refreshing and creamy and the flavors are awesome: Cream cheese and blackberry, stracticella, mint, NUTELLA, sweet milk, sweet cookie, banana, brownie, caramel, double chocolate, rum and raisin, strawberry, chocolate, vanilla...
• Compliment:
While running, a little old lady said to me “You are very strong!”
• Song:
The first time I heard We speak no Americano, I flipped out. Yes, I know it’s from Europe but anything that reminds me of Mexico makes me happy. I miss my Mexican friends :’(
• Conversation:
(In consideration to what I just said, the following would make me happy)-- Have you studied in Mexico? You have a Mexican accent. Aaaand you say “mande?”, “ahorita” and “placticar”.--- (Ha, ha!)
• Day(s):
Trip to Matalascaña and Cadiz.
• Place:
The park next to my house. I love “nature” in the middle of a big city. I love the trees and I even love the morning doves who try to poop on my head. I love seeing that kids are so similar all around the world. For example, two little sisters in a stroller made a face at me. So of course, I made one back. With them straining to turn around in the stroller, we continued making faces at each other until they were out of sight-- I love kids.
• Spanish blunder:
After the third time seeing a group of guys “rockclimbing” the side of the bridge, I stopped and asked them if there were any real places to climb. I meant to say, “Are there guides? Because I don’t have rope” and ending up saying “Hay guías? Porque no tengo ropa” (Are there guides? Because I don’t have clothes).
• Word I’ve learned:
Well, actually it’s the story that I like. I was waiting for my friends at the beach and decided to go talk to a group of elderly people (60s-70s?). They were telling me about their suave life as retired, regular beach-goers. When a lady said a word that I didn’t know, I asked her what it meant. They all started laughing and continued laughing as they described what carajo means. Don’t look it up-- it’s a swear word. Yeaaah, I just got schooled...
• Daily view:
On my way class every day, I walk by the Cathedral and the beautiful horse-pulled carriages that are lined up along the side of it :) The Cathedral is definitely my favorite church that I have ever seen. If you could only see it lit up at night... I bet if I was feeling sappy enough, it’d make me cry.
• Phone conversation:
Calling my Mom in the U.S. (I love you toooo, Tessa). I loved hearing the surprise in her voice and that my family does miss me :). Besides that, I asked my Spanish mom to talk to my real mom and it was really fun to hear them interacting. Also, hearing my Spanish mom talk in English for the first time was strange. It was Marta’s voice, the voice that I know, but it just was weird. Language is so interesting to me!



What I have learned?

• Europeans are probably so thin because they are always walking/riding bike!
• Bedits are real.
• If you have a chocolate craving, never, ever, ever, EVER buy yourself a container of Nutella, Grace Catherine Robia!
• The word for “cool”... three times for three different Spanish worlds: “tuanis” (Costa Rica), “padre” (Mexico), “guay” (Spain). Sometimes it’s funny/interesting, but often it’s frustrating to have to learn things all over again or else sound ridiculous. Pero x, mae, pq ya plactico español peor q una gillipolla. Soy giri, guey. Entonces, Pura vida, Gringa!
• Give your 3 in the morning epiphany about the why the world turns ‘till the next day. Sometimes it just mind garbage.
• Running seems pretty universal. Furthermore, people seem to like seeing me run. In the 4 countries that I’ve run in this year, I’ve always at least of few people cheer me as I run past them. “¡Buen trabajo!” “¡Corrale!” :)

The Matalascaña/Cadiz Blur

Oi, what a change in pace—I was out until 3:30 AM on Friday night, awake Saturday with 2 hours sleep and off to the beach, Matalascaña. It’s a gorgeous southern Spain beach: white sand plus beautiful seashells and minus the mob. The sea is so blue, so blue, and so warm and so wonderful. Molly, Amber, and I had a really awful time lying on the beach all day and later on eating blackberry cream cheese and sweet milk ice cream. I was wishing I was back in Berrrr-midji because I’m tired of 100 degree weather everyday...

[51 degrees in Bemidji..... Cold enuff fer ya???...... ... ... ...I know Seth, I really should stop with the lame attempts to be funny :S]

We came back from Matalascaña, slept, got up, and went to Cadiz on Sunday. I’ll emit the part where I missed both of the buses and tell you how amazing Cadiz is. It feels homier than Sevilla because it’s much smaller, yet retains the artsy style of Spain that I love—cobblestones, stone pillars, ancient churches, and random side roads.

I did not go to the McDonalds, Dustin, because that is a very you-not-me-thing to do. I did, however, go to a cute little bar for lunch. The owner was an old matador, who was more than proud of his past, displaying his bull-fighting pictures on the wall and his faded muleta (red cape). He insisted that I hold it up for him to take a picture and even 30 years later the smell of pasture and animal sweat still radiated from it. I thought of Pinewood right away; I miss that smell :(





















I ended up talking with Jose for 3 hours. You must know by now, talking with the people is the most important thing to me. I loved listening to him about his bullfighting days and arguing with him about women and God. He seemed to really like me too, telling me that I was like a daughter to him now and if I ever needed anything, ever, to call. :) He also gave me my meal free and sent me off with food...

If I were move to Spain, it’d probs be there.

Alone but not Lonely

I’m aware of this constant pressure telling me to “take advantage of” my time in Europe. I should visit x number of museums/churches/colosseums and x number of countries. I should indulge in this delicacy and I should go out every night...

I see the immense value in traveling and merrymaking. Yet, there is a large part of me that rejects this. Mostly, it’s because I’m tired. So while my mom expects me to say I’m going to Africa for the day (literally), I say “Nothing” or “the park”. Yet what’s wrong with that? As I said in my last blog, I’m content. I’m in Spain and that’s pretty ballin’!!

I hope that you know me enough to understand I’m not turning anti-social or less adventurous. I want to travel and in fact, I’m going to Portugual on tomorrow and Cadiz on Sunday (beach town in Southern Spain). I want to visit Aleen in Germany, eat pizza in Italy, ride camels in Morocco. I want to make the most of this trip!

But how nice is it being alone, thinking, unwinding. To me, reading the newspaper is a novelty. To finally unpack my suitcase. To play soccer with my little Spanish brother. To go to class in the morning and to the park at night. To watch little kids run around. To finally stop moving.

To be alone but not lonely.

Thinking of You

As I write this in the park next to my apartment, I’m outstretched on tree roots that stick out like fat Ents’ fingers. It’s strange that as I sit here in Spain, I’m thinking of you. How can I explain to you the beauty of this country and how content I am speaking Spanish with the waiter, circling the newspaper words I don’t know, and writing new phrases on my silly little “mapa de palabras nuevas”. I can’t, but I’ll try.

I am happy-- Really, really happy and really, really grateful. Mom and Dad, I could never thank you enough. I know that I’ve been all over the world this past year and I haven’t been home for more than a half of a breath. And now that I look back on it all, I feel embarrassed-- embarrassed to be so unbelievably lucky and embarrassed for not having shoveled more horse poop for you or something. I hope that all this traveling has made me a better person, more compassionate, grateful, and intelligent. I also sincerely hope that it has done something positive for you too.

Maybe saying this doesn’t really count for anything and maybe I should continue to feel guilty. I can understand that. But at least let me make you this promise: I’ll be home for Christmas and I mean I’ll be home for Christmas.

Death to the Suitcase

Things have really picked up in the last few days. After dragging our stinkin’ luggage over cobble stones, avoiding mopeds, around horse poop, in 100 degree weather, and down twisty rando roads--whose names don’t even make it on the map-- we finally arrived at our hotel. But worth the pain, man, worth the pain. It was a 4-star hotel, or so I heard, that had a delicious pool, AIR CONDITIONING, beautiful rooms and a feast for every meal. I’m sure the food was particularly fantastic because I hadn’t eaten much for the 3 days before because the heat initially killed my appetite. After that first hotel thanksgiving-style indulgence, I commented, “mmmmm, I have a food baby...” If you could only have seen our Spanish guide’s face!!! Pretty sure Miguel almost of fell out of his chair from shock... HAHAHA. I’m betting the saying “food baby” isn’t such a common thing to say in Spanish... Poor guy! He had to put up with Molly’s and my shenanigans for 3 days herding us and 8 other American girls around. He was really great though, always counting his little duckies (us) and worrying like a mama bear :)

I should tell you about Molly. Two word summation: She rocks. My roomie at the hotel, we hit it off right away, giggling and trying not to snort at dinner when all the other girls were mute. We have a lot in common, making it a priority to only speak Spanish, even if others are speaking in English.

More on people, I met my Spanish mom yesterday. Marta is wonderful, wonderful and I’m sure that I'll love being here. She is super energetic, funny, and cute. Also, she’s really into healthy food for which I can’t express my immense gratitude. I haven’t met her 12 yr old son Luis Jose yet, but will on Monday. I’m so lucky! I’ve been with 3 amazing host familie, gracias a Dios.

And yes, I finally unpacked my suitcase. I don’t think I ever been so excited to do that in my life. In the past five weeks I repacked my bag an unbelievable amount. In that time, I've been at my parent's, my brother’s, my aunt’s, my sister’s house, 2 hotels, 4 different friends’ houses, a hostel and here, finally. Oof-duh. Literally living out of a suitcase? I think SO!!

Dinking Around

The 5 of us Oles arrived a few days before our actual orientation. We’ve been renting a nice hostel and have done little besides dink around... which I’m totally OK with because it’s been about 100 degrees every day and our air conditioning is broken. What should we do besides swim in the hostel’s pool? Well actually, I have slept away half of my Spanish life due to jetlag and a summer’s worth of little sleep ... 16 hours the first night, and 11 hours last night. My friends told me there is something wrong with me, but I feel preeeeeeetty good.

It also feels good to being speaking Spanish again. I love Spanish. I love Spanish. I love Spanish. And speaking of Spanish, what’s all this talk about getting used to the Spanish accent and the use of vosotros? I can hear it, but I haven’t had any trouble. Thank goodness because I don’t need additional languages challenges. Staying at this hostel, I’ve heard French, Italian, German, and who knows what. I’ve met people from India, England, Italy, Australia, Germany, and the U.S. which makes it hard to know who is a Spaniard! I can try to guess. I’ve heard that Spaniards are sexy. but, actually I don’t care if they’re Spaniards or not, there is still an unbelievable amount of many thin, beautiful, well-dressed men and women walking down the streets.... Oops, sir, yes, sir, I waaaaas just gawking at you, sir... **awkward turtle**



There have been a few things quite different from my experience in South America. For one, the food: there are green olives served at every meal, very little salsa, and NO TACOS. I miss cheap, delicious tacos!!! On top of that, ALL the food here is expensive; Burger King is expensive! I also miss the salsa and that burning feeling that comes with it.

It also looks a lot different here. There are few street vendors, less cars, and more mopeds. The roads are made of beautiful cobblestone, which are holeless and trashless. And tell me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember such close roads in Mexico and Costa Rica as here. There are many one-ways with no more than a foot on each side for walking and random walkways where you can reach both sides. They're called kissing streets because if you wanted to, you could lean outside and kiss your neighbor!

The strangest of all for me is the siesta. From 4- 8 PM restaurants and bars are closed and 2-5 PM businesses and stores are closed. There is hardly anyone on the streets walking or driving. Besides being pretty eerie for us, us poor North Americans are hungry and have no where to eat...