Everyone who's met me knows I love languages. Everybody. I'm Iike a vegan or a Crossfitter: you'll know I'm a linguist within the first five minutes of meeting me. And I get a lot of crap for it, because I'm a total nerd, and I mean it's pretty understandable. But if you went through what my mom and I went through this morning, you would have a newfound appreciation for the knowledge of language, that much I can promise you.
Mom and I got into Morocco last night at about 4 after a long day of flying from Porto, Portugal to Madrid for a 6 hour layover before our flight to Tangier. We figured out what we were in for pretty immediately after stepping off the plane: a whole bunch of staring. And I don't mean the cute kind of staring like coy eye contact when you see a cute boy, nor do I mean the kind in most of Europe where they turn their head to follow you a little longer than necessary because you're speaking in English or you're blonde or you look funny. I mean straight up, flat out, crash the car looking backwards holy Lord a blonde never seen one of those before probably never will again second coming of Jesus (or Allah i guess) make you fear for your life kind of staring. So anyway, we get off the plane, get our passports stamped - yay Africa stamps - and grab our luggage. Wait a second. Can I just ask that we do not get judged for everything that I'm about to say? I mean, many would call me a seasoned traveler, some might even call me experienced for a 20 year old college student in regards to my view of how the world works and my ability to adapt to the environment around me and get where I need to go. But let me just say that the Americas and Europe have nothing on Africa. It is an entirely other animal. So please reserve judgement on our careless mistakes made and lack of experience until you yourself have come to experience Morocco. Do we have a deal? Okay, so we literally could not find the exit to the airport. In our defense, it was hidden behind a huge crowd of unmoving people and the information desk was deserted so we were on our own from the get-go. We made our way out to the line of taxis and saw that there were only grand taxis waiting - for those of you who don't know, morocco has two types of taxis (grand and normal). The grand ones 70's Mercedes sedans and are meant to be shared by up to six people despite only having four freakin' seats, and the normal ones can range from old VW Rabbits to crappy Skoda cars or what have you and tend to be teal and dented all over (undoubtedly as a result of the despicable driving of this country's residents - there's no way the driving test is anything more than your ability to reach the pedals and not be completely blind. Anyway, we negotiated a price with the driver - you have to negotiate before you get into the taxi, Google told us so - we hopped in and headed to our hotel. 100 dirham later (no idea what the symbol is for that but it's the equivalent to about 25€) we arrived at the Free Zone Hotel. It was outside of town and the pool we were ever so excited about was drained, but the room was spacious and most importantly there were beds so who were we to complain. We decided that due to our distance from the city center and to the fact that it was getting late and I refused to wander Tangier in the dark on our first night that we would just go for a short walk and grab dinner at a nearby restaurant. We hadn't made it five minutes from the hotel when two men about my age asked if we were looking for anything in particular in broken English. While they were very sweet, their efforts were in vain because we understood almost nothing. We decided to walk a bit more and ran into a very sweet security guard who happened to only have one tooth - do what you will with that information - and spoke a bit of English and even French - which obviously didn't do much for me - and he was kind enough to show us where we would need to wait for buses and grand taxis to get into the medina close to our hotel. He recommended a nearby restaurant for dinner so we headed over and sat down. We established that we needed menus in English and began to look for something to eat. Mom wanted something Moroccan (so not the pizza or pasta) so we agreed on Moroccan chicken and lemon tajine, which was freaking delicious. We were given olives soaked in lemon and oil with bread as a couvert while waiting for our tajine and let me tell you it was worth the wait. A boned chicken covered in a steamed lemon - rind included - along with a sauce of innumerable and unnamable spices that I'm sure would cost a fortune in the states and some olives. It. Was. Delicious. Oh and it was also served with fries because fries are eeeeeverywhere. And for future reference, if you're ever wondering if there's a word that works in every single language, the answer is "ketchup." Everyone and their mother knows what ketchup is, even native Arabic speakers. Just thought I'd share that. We subsequently picked out a sort of chocolate cake for dessert and while it was scrumptious, we had no clue what we were missing out on. Our server brought us Moroccan mint tea and two traditional desserts on the house. For those who don't know, I absolutely love tea - vanilla rooiboos to be exact - but this stuff was the best I've ever had. Lots of mint and even more sugar. It was heavenly. As if that wasn't enough we had the two desserts, one a doughy honey triangular bringer of joy and the other a divinity/peanut/nougat combination of happiness. Suffice it to say they didn't last long and we appreciated every bite. We soon walked back to the hotel and changed into pajamas and got comfortable - the day of travel kicked our butts. We talked to family and friend on the phone for awhile, played cards (I kicked mom's butt) and headed to bed. This morning I turned off the alarm I set to wake us up instead of hitting snooze - something I've done a few more times than I'm proud of - and we woke up an hour late. We got ready - meaning we made sure all the super provocative parts of our bodies were covered (my shoulders are crazy sexy, I don't know about yours) - and headed downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast was some sort of bread (reminded me of a less awesome version of German schmann) which we ate with honey, as well as some fantastic coffee which was given to us along with sugar cubes in place of packets. After eating, we headed over to the desk to check out. We handed over our keys and the little card we were given to make the electricity in our room work and were asked how we wanted to pay. Naturally we were confused because mom had booked with Travelocity and paid online. This, my friends, is where my newfound appreciation (as if I didn't already appreciate it) comes in. We spent the next hour and a half of our lives at war with an enemy who would not budge: language. I don't know about you but they didn't teach me Arabic in high school and I chose Spanish and German over French because ew who likes French. The men on the other side of our lovely language barrier had Arabic and French on their side. Please take a moment that between the four of us standing there, 5 languages were spoken in total, and none of them overlapped. It was a long morning. After walking to the bank with them, showing them payment receipts, a whole bunch of frustration which involved a lot of saying something in English and then saying it again (louder) as if comprehension would miraculously improve as we raised our voices, several expletives on my part, and the help of some google translate, we were free. Let me just say that the fact that we kept our cool is more of a feat than I can express so points to us. Also, I will never again take google translate for granted. Anyway, we FINALLY left the hotel and headed over to wait for a bus or grand taxi with several jeering Moroccans. A Mercedes shuttle bus with curtains over the windows and more seats than you'd expect to fit in one van pulled up and told us it would be 10 dirham to get to the medina which was a damn good price so we hopped on and waited until a few other people hopped on and the driver was satisfied he'd be getting his money's worth for this trip. Side note: on the way over, Selena Gomez played... she still sucks, even in Morocco. Maybe especially in Morocco. We headed into the medina with four men and another woman, who stopped when we did and told us (sort of) that she was also headed for the medina and would be happy to show us where it was - this was a Godsend. Through basic English we shared names, hers is Vivian, and she learned that I also speak Spanish. She immediately pulled out her phone and called a friend who was fluent in Arabic and Spanish. She gave me her phone and I discussed with my new phone friend where we wanted to go (bus station) and he said he would tell Vivian and that he hoped we had a wonderful trip and if we ever returned to let him know and he'd be happy to show us around. First off, how in the world did this completely random woman find it in her heart to show some silly Americans where the medina was, happen to have a friend who spoke fluent Spanish, be willing to call him so that we could get where we wanted to go, and then help us hail a taxi to get there? In short, she was truly a blessing and she has now added me on Whatsapp - I plan to thank her by phone as soon as we arrive at our next hotel in Chefchaouen. So we got a bus to Chef that left an hour from when we arrived at the station. We took a walk around - a short one because our bags are unacceptably heavy - and hopped on the bus. Fun fact: they charge you for having luggage separately from the ticket. It's lovely. But now I'm on a bus, an hour from our destination (Chefchaouen - in case we get lost and die mom says I should mention where we are). I'll let you know how Chef goes ASAP! And I'm going to work backwards in time in order to fill you in on the past few weeks so bear with me on this one folks. Later!! Ps. Buses suck. The general public cannot drive and if you add that to a huge bus trying to make tight mountain turns and road quality worse than even Morgantown and trying to type a blog post you get a lot of typos and a little road sickness, so sorry for my poor English on this one folks. Pps. Mom just almost fell out of her seat. It was entertaining. That is all.
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Alright, so I guess to start this off I'll apologize in advance for not having written in awhile. I mean, it's not like any of you were checking every five minutes to see if I'd blogged recently, but I feel an obligation to the blog and the like 3.5 people who read it, so I'm sorry.
So it's been what, like two weeks since my last post? I think it's safe to say I've fallen into a rhythm here so I'll try to give you a basic rundown. Mondays are always my busiest (I have three whole classes) and they're broken up oddly enough that it's hard to do anything but class until 6 when my last class ends, at which time I eat and gym and occasionally see friends (crazy, I know). Tuesdays and Thursdays I don't have class until 7pm so I usually grab breakfast with Er and head to the gym around 12, spending the rest of my day either with a friend or - now that summer is upon us - tanning on the terrace. Wednesdays I have two classes but to be honest I only go to the latter because the former has a professor who puts his notes on line and doesn't take attendance. I'm a 20 year old college student in Spain, what do you want from me? Fridays I don't have class *pause to exhale deeply and forget your anger towards me* and on the weekends I tend to go wherever the wind takes me. Sunday doeners with the girls, however, are always a must. Despite the relative consistency of classes, I would hardly say that my schedule is predictable, and thank God for it. Last Wednesday, my friend Alvaro and I went out for drinks and I told him about Librilla, my favorite place to go hiking. Most people would say "Hey that sounds beautiful, we should go someday," but not Alvaro. He decides almost immediately that we should go the following day. So what do we do? Look up the train schedule. We spent all of Thursday getting lost in the mountains of Librilla before finally wandering to the beautiful lakes on the outskirts of the city, and ate homemade bocadillos with our feet in the water and our faces to the sun. It was kinda wonderful. Minus the part where we improvised our walk back into the city and jumped some fences and trespassed over a whole bunch of orchards, but if you ask me that makes it even better. All in all we walked 20 miles that day and SOMEHOW I found it in me to go out dancing that night. Spain does that to you. The other day, my flatmates and I went dancing and I came to the conclusion that there is not a single woman with Latin blood that cannot move with fluidity and grace across a dance floor and look way more attractive than me while they do it. Yet another hiking trip this past week to Orihuela with friends resulted in a bit of a surprise. To start off, Erin and I were traveling with two Australians, four Italians, an Austrian, and a Spaniard, and since two of the Italians preferred to practice their French, it resulted in five languages being spoken at the dinner table that day with Spanish being the only one everyone was capable of, at varying levels. You would not believe the headache. Also, the stereotype about Italians and Americans being the loudest is absolutely 100% accurate, you should see them all together at one table. EVERYONE knew we were there. On the way home that day we planned to buy our tickets on the train ride home - it would cost 2 euro and I had bought tickets while on the train in the past. Long story short, this time around we were NOT allowed to do that, and subsequently received a police escort home. Like I said, it's a long story. But a damn funny one at that! And so worth the fine that Er and I will soon be receiving in the mail. Hmmm what else... Er and I went to the mall this week - she's trying to improve my wardrobe because I've spent 20 years not really caring how many pairs of heels I have - and it's a slow process. I'm a bit of a work in progress. Let's see, what else is going on in my life? MY MOM GETS HERE IN THREE WEEKS OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS! I cannot WAIT to see her! And after a few days of having her in Murcia and Cartagena, we're headed to Portugal and Morocco! I honestly cannot believe it's happening. And then Malta with Er! Which means I really should just stop eating dinner altogether, both to save money and to lose weight. Two birds with one stone, no? Also bought bus tickets to Las Fiyas yesterday! I'll hold off on telling you about that one till the 19th when it happens but holy wow am I excited! Honestly, I'm just happy to have found my rhythm here. Living in Spain thus far has been so much more than amazing and I am so, so grateful, but in the last few weeks I have begun to feel like I truly belong here. I walk into a bar and I know how to order a drink and what it is I want and where I want to sit. I walk into class and I can look for my friends who have a seat saved for me, Someone asks me to meet them somewhere and believe it or not I actually know where it is. I'll never look Spanish - my height and hair color bar me from that - but I'll be damned if I can't hang with the best of them. Since I started learning Spanish in 8th grade, I've wanted to travel the world, but I never truly understood what that meant until I moved here. In and of itself, the fact that I can say I LIVE here, not "I'm visiting" gives me more joy than I can express. Side note: If my English starts lookin' a little off, you can blame my friend Laura, with whom I spend quite a lot of time and whose Irish anecdotes and slang have already begun to affect my vocabulary. Honestly I would have her read the contents of a ketchup bottle if it meant I got to hear her talk (best accent ever). Anyway, back to feeling like a native. It's kind of awesome. Not to say that I aaaaalways know what's going on in my Narrative Lit class, in fact I rarely do, but aside from that, there isn't much that confuses me anymore, and when I don't know what to do, I'm more than willing to ask. Interestingly enough, I do think I have changed in that respect. It takes a lot to ask someone something that it feels like everyone around you already knows. You feel exceptionally stupid walking up to a waiter and saying, "Hey, do I come to you or do you plan on coming to the table?" because it depends. Sometimes they come to you as you sit, sometimes you're expected to get up and order at the bar. One thing about Spain is that they lack consistency on all fronts, but honestly I think that has helped me grow. I've always been self depreciating and I can handle it when I don't know EVERYTHING (even though I pretty much do - HA) but it takes a whole other level of self confidence to walk up to someone who doesn't know you and ask them something you know nothing about in a language that is not the one you were raised speaking. But, it gets easier. And as time has gone on I have less questions but more willingness to ask the ones I do have. It's a pretty cool feeling, to be honest. As for my word of the day, today you get a phrase. "Me lo has pegado" more or less translates to "You made it stick with me" as in "You've said something enough that I've started to say it too." Living in a foreign country and interacting with so many people from so many different cultures changes you in more ways than one, but the most obvious is your vernacular. I've begun to say things like "grand" thanks to Laura the beautiful Irish girl, I haven't said "Oh my gosh" in months because I'm too busy saying "Madre mia" and a friend of mine has picked up my bad habit of saying "Okay-vale" - which really just means "okay" in both English and Spanish and totally doesn't make sense to put together, but I do and now he does, because talking with someone long enough truly changes your vocabulary after just a few weeks. It's kind of amazing. To me, it's the first thing you notice to change. Words you never used to say start to come out of your mouth and sometimes (often) you find yourself saying an English word with a Spanish accent and vice versa. It kinda makes your brain hurt, but what are you gonna do? Oh! Wanna hear something cool? My Spanish has improved exponentially since I arrived. **she said in the least conceited way possible** I still don't know all the words ever, I learn new ones every day, and I still make mistakes, but I can speak without thinking about what I want to say and I don't have to translate to English in my head, it's just Spanish through and through, and it works. How awesome is that? I don't know, makes me pretty excited. I even have proof! So we had to open bank accounts when we arrived in Spain and we used the bank closest to my apartment. The people were amazingly friendly, despite our inability to articulate everything we needed and our nervousness about our language skills, they were patient and welcoming. Now? I walk in and am welcomed with "Alexandra, que tal estas?" as if they know me well and we get drinks on the weekends. I get called out of the normal line to meet at a different desk with one of the people who (for some reason) seems to really like talking to me, and they help me immediately with whatever I need. But it's not just me they're super friendly with, it's everyone. These are by far the friendliest people I have ever encountered in my life, and I've done my fair share of traveling. All of Spain, especially Murcia, is more welcoming than any place is expected to be, and it truly makes all the difference in the world. The other day, for example, an ATM took my bank card because it hates me and said I put my PIN in wrong. I went to the bank Tuesday and immediately was given a new one and a new PIN and talked with my favorite teller for twenty minutes. Who knew "bank tellers" and "friendly" could go in the same sentence? These people are awesome. Okay, it's 12:30am and I got 5 hours of sleep last night, so if you carry the one and.... it's bed time. Goodnight mis amores <3 How many of you know what Carnaval is? If you ask my friend Garrett, he'll say that anyone who's seen Rio knows exactly what Carnaval is, and honestly, he's right. Carnaval is so many things, and one could simplify it to say that it's just costumes and parades and drinking and dancing, but it's so much more than that. Carnaval is a celebration of life. Historically speaking, it's actually what the old Catholics did right before Lent. Lent is the time where you hold off on the luxuries of life - such as meat on Fridays - and it occurs annually from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday. Most people give up something for Lent or add something for the betterment of themselves or the enrichment (religiously or what have you) of their lives. A lot of people turn it into a religious diet, giving up sweets and the like - if you ask me, while it may not be the intended purpose, it's a pretty smart concept. When you're on a Lent diet, how hard could it be to give up what you said you would? "Don't eat that candy, remember, God is watching." I don't know, seems like it would be pretty effective. Anyway, Carnaval is a celebration right before Lent, when all the luxuries of life must be consumed so that there is nothing left when Lent begins - and let me tell you, the Spanish like to make sure there is TRULY nothing left to consume - these people are nocturnal I swear.
Alright, so a bit of a run through of our day and then maybe some elaboration? First off, Be and I - we aren't all that bright - were out until almost 4am Friday night just talking (on a playground swing set, as a matter of fact). We all woke up around 10am Saturday morning, and let me just say that six hours of sleep in no way prepared me for all things Carnaval. We got our costumes together - meaning our 10 euro H&M black striped shirts, some leggings and a beanie - and headed out to start our day as ex convicts. We walked through Murcia on our way to the train and I would like to stop and take a moment to warn anyone who hates Valentine's Day to stay the HELL away from Spain anytime around February - there are freakin' flowers and balloons and happiness and sunshine and cuteness everywhere you look, and if you're not into that kind of thing, you'll probably throw up. So we finally got to the train station and bought our tickets to Aguilas, a coastal town with a whole lot of Carnaval in it right around this time of year. We left at 1:30 and arrived around 3:30. It was beyond beautiful. Sorry in advance for the tangent I'm about to go off on, but this is a beach city. I freakin' love the beach. I love everything about it - the sand, the water, the environment, the architecture of the buildings close by, the sound of the waves, all of it. Being back at the beach... it was the closest I've felt to being back home in a very long time. Anyway, we wandered over to a restaurant for lunch because if we don't feed Erin every other hour on the hour she turns into a 5'4 evil beast who will eat you if you don't watch out. By some uncanny stroke of unluckiness, her food came out almost half an hour after mine and Be's, but her coffee held her over and no one was lost in the incident. So, no one told us that none of the actual festivities started until like 9, or else God knows I would have slept in later yesterday morning. We walked around the beautiful city for awhile, drinks in hand, and while walking, something caught our attention. The steepest set of discombobulated stairs anyone has ever seen in their lives, and it seemed to lead up to the top of the city. What kind of people would we be not to take this kind of opportunity? So we walked! And walked... and lost our breath.. and walked some more. And then we got to the top. I have no words to describe how beautiful it was, truly. Facebook friends, I posted photos, please enjoy. After appreciating the beauty of this amazing place, we decided it was time for another drink, so we went into a family owned bar whose owners thought that we, as Americans, deserved a few free rounds of cuerva. Cuerva, for those who don't know, is like sangria on steroids. I don't even know how to describe it other than exceptionally sweet and just as strong. They even put fruit in it that sinks to the bottom so that you can do what Be did and have drank enough by the end of it that you don't mind holding the glass upside down and hitting it till the fruit un-stuck from the bottom and fell into your mouth. Just kidding, she was sober, but it was still hilarious. By the way, I love the bars here. They aren't like what they seem to be at home, where if you're there you're trying to get wasted or find someone to go home with or both. They're very open, welcoming, and even family oriented. Anyway, we headed out of the bar and walked back to the main street where the majority of the parades and parties were happening. We found some Erasmus friends along the way - Erasmus is basically the European organization for international students - and stayed with them for a few hours. We got pizza, frozen yogurt, some more drinks, etc. and somehow continued to dance throughout the streets of Aguilas. We even got on a parade float and danced on that - the float riders were very welcoming I swear. Eventually we decided to branch off and go meet some of my friends from class - Placido, Carmen, Alvaro, Fran, etc - and began what should have been a five minute walk to meet them (we get lost sometimes). Initially we couldn't find each other because it was so busy so I stood on the stairs and told Fran to look for the only real blonde in the whole freakin' country - and he found us. It was a pretty fantastic meeting - the three of us were exhausted and all of them were significantly intoxicated - but they were sweet as could be and gave us a few drinks before the rain began. When I say rain, by the way, I really mean rain. It came out of nowhere and then stayed strong for about a half hour at a time, with slight breaks. By the end of it, I looked like a wet dog rather than a convict. We moved our little party elsewhere and continued to enjoy ourselves until about an hour before our train to Murcia was supposed to come in (at 6am) and so we headed up to our secret little spot above the city to sit and appreciate everything we had just been able to experience. Honestly, the best comparison I can make is that it kind of felt like being Superman. We looked out over the city and we could hear everything - all of the music coming from different directions, all of the shouting people, all of it - and you could see much farther than you'd think at 5am in total darkness because of the lights of Carnaval, you could even see the light at the end of the pier. All of it, all at once. It was more than overwhelming. And it was just one of those times where you appreciate everything you have in life. I mean yeah, I'm poor and paying my rent causes me physical pain and pretty soon I'll have to sell myself on a street corner to pay for groceries, but hey, I'm in Spain. Soon afterwards we walked our exceptionally tired selves to the train station, and apparently half of the rest of the city wanted to go home when we did, so we duked it out and ended up with three seats on the 5:45am train into Murcia. It was so full, people were sitting in the isles. There were also a bunch of drunken cows in the car next to us who refused to shut the door despite their incessant yelling and so I got angry and made the executive decision that if they didn't shut the door, I would. It was soon shut. You don't mess with me and my sleep, alright? We got to the station in Murcia around 8am and because, as previously mentioned, we are poor, we walked home. My house, luckily enough, is the farthest away from the station, and I had left my things at Erin's the morning before, so I got to walk to her house and then mine. Honestly. I didn't think I was going to make it. On the walk home I kept looking for places I could just lay down and take a nap - I even planned to write a note that said "Not drunk, just exhausted" wherever I ended up passing out in town - but I made it home around 9:15am and curled up into a little ball in bed. I messaged my flatmates to let them know I had just arrived at home and that unless someone was dying, I would really appreciate not being woken up. I did eventually wake up today.... at 7:45pm... I guess I really needed my sleep. Sleep, by the way, has to do with my word of the day, "dormilona." It basically means "girl who is perpetually sleepy" and if you don't think that that is the absolute perfect word for my existence as a human being, you're wrong. It is my word. I claim it. I would get it tattooed on my body, but that would be a hard one to explain to mom and dad. So the girls and I decide that the next time all three of us are in Spain for carnaval (never again) we're going to wear pajamas and book a freakin' hostel. My friends actually want to go again next weekend. I think they're trying to kill me. Like, seriously, I think they want me to die. How the hell do they do it? As if I didn't already know that I wasn't a party animal, I have been reminded. In all honesty, it was quite a day. Well more than that, actually, more like a day and a half, but I digress. A lot happened. Dances were danced, friends were made, drinks were drank. Drunk? Drunken? Drinkded? Drank. I don't know, English is barely my first language anymore, leave me alone. Poor grammar aside, I am so blessed to have had this experience and it is one I will remember for the rest of my life. After all, who wants to celebrate Valentine's Day when you could celebrate Carnaval instead? 'Sta luego! PS. Still sick. Wondering what Spain's laws are on sedation until this whole sick and dying thing passes. Well I guess I'll start this off by saying that this past weekend I went to Milan, so if you already hate me and want to stop reading, now would be the time.
Alright, so we left (we meaning Er, Be and I) at 6am because we had a 10:40 flight and we really did NOT want to be late. We met at 5:45 and started walking, duffel bags thrown over our shoulders, to the bus station. I might add that Er decided to bring a rolling bag instead of a duffel, so all of Murcia heard us coming over the cobblestone streets. After about a 20 or 25 minute walk (we're too poor to afford a taxi) we got to the bus station. The sun had yet to rise and wouldn't for another two hours, so it was more or less pitch black. For those of you who know me well, I dislike being awake before the double digit times (ex. 10am), let alone before the freakin' sunrise. But it was for a good cause, so we went and bought our tickets and boarded our bus for Alicante. An hour later we got to the airport and had some free time so we walked around the duty free store to look at all the things we couldn't afford. We had all this free time, mind you, because airport security in Europe pales in comparison to ours. It takes about five minutes to get through and no one cares whether your shampoo is under 3oz or you have an exotic monkey in your backpack. I did, by the way. His name is Jorge. We met up with some friends from our university who were coming with us and headed for our gate. For those who are wondering, this part is also unorganized in Europe. There are no boarding groups and no one really understands what a line is so it's every man/woman for themselves. We boarded the plane for our 2 hour flight to Milan and we were up in the air! I, as per the norm, slept the whole way. We landed in Milan at 1pm, and to our immense surprise, it was covered in snow. Like, absolutely covered. As in I was immediately angry that I left my beanie in my apartment because I was about to freeze and die in the frozen tundra that is Northern Spain. We all picked up our bags and attempted to find a bus that would get us to the city center - we landed in Bergamo which is an hour outside of Milan. We found one for 5 euro and we were off! When we arrived in Milan we all split up to find our respective hostels - the girls and I hopped into a taxi and the exceptionally patient taxi driver waited for us to find the street address of our hostel. 10 minutes and 11 euro later, we were there! We were staying in a room for four so we had no idea who our roommate would be - the first night was a wordless Chinese girl who decided that the best way to deal with our American bullsh*t was to ignore us. Also I am 97.3% sure I saw a pH testing kit in her back which she took with her to the shower... Don't ask me, man, I didn't even have shower shoes. Our first day we rested in the hostel for a bit before heading out into the frozen streets to walk around and stop in a few shops - how can you not go shopping in the fashion capital of the world? Granted, we didn't actually shop because we're dirt poor and spent all our money actually getting to Milan (tickets were only 50 euro by the way, once you're in Europe it's pretty cheap to get around). We stopped for pizza and coffee and oh my goodness gracious was it good. I got some life-changing margharita pizza and some type of coffee (that I can't pronounce without sounding like an idiot) that had a bit of hot chocolate in it - it was DELICIOUS. We continued to walk around the city for awhile before deciding to take a break in the hostel before going out that night. Those of us who can nap - me - napped. Those of us who can't - Erin - did not. We went to a bar and got some delicious Long Island's and then headed elsewhere where you got free food with one drink order - which is my kind of place. We wandered the streets for awhile - Abbe and I being the only sober ones, we led the pack back to the metro and to our respective hostels. Also, I feel like it's important to mention the lack of a language barrier on this one. Thus far I have only visited one country in which I did not know the language and have the ability to communicate, and when I was in that country, my friend spoke the native language so we had no problem. Going to Italy, none of us knew the language. Honestly, I was a little apprehensive. I get a lot of crap for my love of languages but honestly my fascination with them is twofold. I absolutely love learning new languages because I think they're beautiful and they make more sense to me than other things. But the other side of all of this is that I feel a strong desire to be able to communicate with people no matter where I go. I don't want them to have to be able to speak English - I want to know THEIR language. And so, going to Italy was a bit nerve racking initially, but I needn't have worried. I could speak with an Italian in Spanish and have them respond in Italian with ease, and there was no problem understanding on either side. The words are different; they sound different and the Italians give each of these words their own gestures, but there is truly no problem understanding. I honestly spent the entire weekend being repeatedly fascinated by the use of both languages and how well they worked together. I know it's the linguist in me but come on - how cool is that? The next morning we woke up at 8:45 to get out into the historic part of the city and sightsee for the day. As we walked outside for the metro we saw that it was going to be an exceptionally long and soaking wet sort of day if we didn't purchase some umbrellas to fight off the wintry mix, so Er got a yellow one and I got a red one for 3 euro each, and as super dumb as this may sound, it kind of made our pictures 100x better. The red and yellow stood out beautifully against the gray of the buildings and the lighter gray of the cold-weather ridden sky. We decided to take it slow - we took the metro into the city and then started working our way throughout - when we got too cold we would stop for coffee or a snack. This actually worked out pretty perfectly! We started off with breakfast - I got a machiatto because I felt obligated to do so due to an ongoing joke with my father - and we got "tostas" which we assumed were the Italian version of Spansih "tostadas" - aka a piece of bread. We were sadly mistaken and were each brought two full sandwiches for our enjoyment - so we enjoyed. We walked for awhile and found the Duomo - a beautiful gothic cathedral.This is where I got the picture of the pigeons! There were men standing right next to the metro and even knowing they just wanted money I let them tie a bracelet to my wrist and give me dry pasta as he led me over and held my hand out so that the birds would come to me - it was totally worth the few euro I gave him afterwards AND I had gloves on so guess who gets to avoid bird flu - it's me. Then we walked a bit more and stopped for coffee. We soon happened upon one of the oldest malls in the world (Galleria V. Emanuelle II), which had shops that a young college student such as myself can afford going to at any time - like Prada and Versace. If I'm being honest, the three of us decided to go into one of these stores just to say we did and walked in to about seven people waiting to help you find just the right 3.000 euro bag - so we rapidly walked out and tried to avoid making eye contact. We then stopped for some freaking amazing gelato - those of you who are my Facebook friends got to see the beautiful delicious wonder that is hazelnut and chocolate gelato with nutella in it - we stole the spoons we used to eat the gelato with because it was that good and we wanted something to remember it by. Then we walked some more and found the Castello Sorzesco - a never ending, beautiful, historic castle with huge courtyards and articulate stonework inside. It was astounding. Every time you turned a corner you were amazed by its sheer size and detail. Lastly we headed for the Teatro della Scalla - one of the world's oldest opera houses! As a matter of fact it took us a long while to find it, and when we did, we realized that it was RIGHT next to the mall we had visited earlier... directions aren't really our thing. We stopped for some amazing pasta at this point - ravioli and traditional spaghetti - and headed home to give our super numb toes and fingers a break! We rested for a bit and then our new roommate came in! Her name was Cynthia and she was a self declared moneyless world traveler. She was stopped in Italy and headed eventually for Egypt, and while she seemed like a very nice girl, we decided to bring our valuable belongings with us to dinner. We split three dishes for dinner so that we could get a bit of each - they ended up being spinach cannolis, gnocci and margharita pizza - and when that filled us up, we decided the only option was to continue with dessert. Er got tiramissu and I got some sort of chocolate hazelnut cake concoction that was more than delicious. We went home for the night and attempted to head to bed at a decent hour, which didn't happen, because we had to be up by 4:30 for our flight home. We finally got back to Murcia around 2pm after a long day of travel and I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Ines and relaxing - I was mostly too tired to function. Despite my tiredness, I did finalize some travel plans with my mom and Er last night! For those of you who don't know, Er and I bought our spring break tickets to Malta this week and today we took care of the hostel! Mom and I also figured out our travel plans yesterday! SHE'S COMING TO VISIT IN SIX WEEKS! While she's here we're going to visit Cartagena, Porto (Portugal) and Tangier (Morocco)! I cannot even tell you how excited I am. If I'm being honest, it doesn't even feel real. I cannot believe that I get to say I went to Milan for a long weekend and I'm spending my spring break in places like Portugal, Morocco and Malta with two of my favorite people in the whole wide world. Who gets to say things like that? It's absolutely insane. I wake up every single morning so much more than grateful for the life I get to live. This morning, I realized Milan really did get the best of me - I woke up with a sore throat, a headache and a fever. Well played, Milan. I spent the vast majority of my day in bed with my flatmates thinking I was dead or dying - unfortunately that's how it felt. I'm hoping that since I slept my life away today, I'll make it to class without a problem tomorrow! I should probably shower first, though... Oh! The word of the day is rompecorazones, which means heartbreaker. I know that this word is usually reserved for people, but personally I think it could be used for Europe as a whole. It is going to break my heart to leave this place. I fall more and more in love with it every single day and I think that leaving here is going to be one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do. There is a reason my parents wouldn't let me buy just a one way ticket here - if I hadn't bought a round trip ticket, I probably wouldn't come back any time soon. I just love it here, so much. My stay in Milan did make me realize something - as beautiful and wonderful as Italy is, I belong in Spain. Not because it's so much more expensive in Italy, and despite how wonderful the food is, Spain is where I am supposed to be. I am so in love with Spanish culture, the people, all of it. Visiting other places is absolutely amazing, but I couldn't be happier that this is where I get to live, even if only for six months. It is so much more than perfect here. To me, at least. Anyway, classes start up again tomorrow - yay! Time to be social and make friends or something? Guess I'll give it a shot. Tomorrow I have Literature, Syntax and Transaltion... Someone say a prayer for me. I take it all back.
Classes are hard, Spanish is hard, and as if making friends in your first language isn’t hard enough, try doing it in your second. Okay, it’s not that bad. This is like the first real week of classes – last week was more or less like an American syllabus week. This morning I had Spanish Narrative Literature and guess who doesn’t like to write notes and prefers to just lecture – it’s my professor. In all honesty, she seems really nice and she repeated everything at least once so I had almost no problem at all getting all my notes down! At the end of class, Er and I went up and told her that we were stupid Americans – just so she could know in advance – and she said that she gives us dummy international students some extra help so I’m pretty psyched about that, especially considering this is my Spanish Major Literature credit course and I would REALLY not like to have to take that again in the States. Now I’m in Syntax and Semantics – sounds enticing, I know – but I actually really enjoy linguistics because I am a freak of nature and this professor is freakin’ awesome so this class is not one I’m all that worried about, honestly. And in case anyone was wondering, thus far my professors have been very easy to understand (lucky for me) and I’m more than ecstatic about that. I may fall asleep before I get to go home though if I’m being honest, I had two granola bars this morning and let me just say they are not doing the job. They’re very small, light granola bars that basically just remind you how hungry you are – they don’t really do the whole “protein bars” and stuff like that, which if you ask me is crap, I want my freakin’ protein man. This weekend was pretty great! We had Friday off which was a gift from God and so the three day weekend began with.. We went out for drinks and what started off as a slow night ended up with us at an Erasmus party in a freakin’ bull ring. You read that right. A party in La Plaza de Torros. Erasmus, by the way, is the international student organization that puts together international parties (free entry – and sangria), trips throughout Spain, and even trips to other countries. The best part is although you have to pay for the trips and activities, they’re at a ridiculously discounted price. For example, there’s a day trip to Valencia this weekend for 30 euro! I of course will not be attending, because I’ll be too busy enjoying Milan. I understand if this is the part where you stop reading, because Milan. We leave Thursday! Oh crap, that’s In like 3 days.. MILAN! Anyway, I ended the night at Abbe’s – don’t get too excited, she has an extra bed in her room – and as the beautiful, wonderful person that she is, I woke up late to an AMAZING breakfast and a cup of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen. Seriously, I’m going to sleep over more often. I headed home and got changed for the gym (because yay weekend fitness). Afterwards, Er and I went to the market and I picked up some apples and nutella (my secret love) and some lettuce (because I eat salads now or something). Getting skinny sucks, by the way. I stayed in because it was cold and dreary and freezing and miserable outside and I don’t really “do” cold and dreary and freezing and miserable. It was still, somehow, a late night because I do this really cool thing where when I start a good book, I have to finish it in the same freakin’ night, even if it’s 600 pages. So, I read for 5 hours straight and got through the book. I’m not proud of it. Anyway, that’s why I slept in on Sunday! Yesterday involved a whole lot of me lying in my bed. I woke up at 12:30 – I swear I was up late, I don’t sleep THAT much – to the girls ringing my doorbell to get buzzed into my apartment. I think they’ve come to the realization that sometimes if you really want to wake me up, you have to come over and do it yourself. We went for our Sunday tradition - Turkish doeners – if you haven’t had one, you’re doing it wrong, and then stopped for some frozen yogurt (which is basically calorie free or something). Afterwards, Er and I watched Bourne Identity and napped – shout out again to dad for the movies on my computer – and then she headed home. Afterwards I curled up in a ball in my bed and watched Grey’s Anatomy until it was time to make dinner. Dinner, in case anyone was wondering, was a freakin’ delicious taco salad, and dessert was an apple with nutella while I sat with the girls for awhile to talk about movies and school and how we didn’t want to go to class this morning. And now I’m back full circle – sitting where I was when I first started this post – in Profesor Pietro’s Syntax and Semantics class, writing this on a Word document because my Internet login information has decided not to work for me. I swear if we were talking about an actual lesson right now I would pay attention, but he’s going over half of the syllabus again and I can read that all on my lonesome. I probably just jinxed something by saying that. He’s probably telling people the meaning of life… Still not listening. Guys… I’m starving. Like I think my stomach is starting to eat at its own inner lining because otherwise I’ll die. And this class is scheduled for two hours. I guess I should mention that two hour courses get a break in between, but my awesome professor thought we would rather get out early than have a break in the middle (and he was right) so I’m hoping to be done in about an hour. A girl can hope, right? My lack of internet is infuriating, by the way. I know the codes and stuff work because I’ve used campus internet before and yet, nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m losing my marbles. Almost through my computer into a wall in my Lit class but I figured it would be frowned upon. Speaking of frowning and cultural disapproval, I found a rather interesting minute couple of differences between us and the Spanish – those who take notes with their computers write in paragraphs, and those who do not use computers seem to all use printer paper to take notes. Personally, my notes have lots of different bullet points and indents so I can see where one thought (yes, sometimes I thnk) ends and another begins. And I can barely walk in a straight line, let alone write words that way. I guess I’ll leave those methods to the Spanish, it’s probably better that way. Oh hey, my word of the day! Look that rhymed. If I’m being honest, I find that a little more amusing than I should. Alright, so the word of the day today is bostezar, which is the verb for “to yawn,” which is something I have been doing uncontrollably today. No philosophical thoughts on this one, just thought it was a pretty cool lookin’ word that I personally find useful. But anyway, believe what you want, I say this crap is infectious. I guess in a really weird way it kind of shows you someone was looking at you if they yawn when you do... Or the poor soul just looked around the room at the wrong time. The point is I need a nap. After this class of happy fun time, I’m headed home for lunch (and hopefully a nap) before the gym. Then I get to call my school and find out why in the world my stipend (we are supposed to receive a stipend from the school) is going to be delayed another FOUR WEEKS. From what I understand, it is because people are idiots, but I plan to find out for sure. Not to sound like a whiney brat, but the stipend is supposed to pay my rent and my bills and for my groceries – it would be nice to have received it by now, wouldn’t you say? Not like I can do anything to actually speed up the process, but I can yell at them… which tends to help. Part of me wants to keep writing this thing because God knows I don’t want to pay attention in class, but the other part of me realizes that if I don’t end this soon I will be rambling and you will never want to read my super fun words about Spain ever again. Guess this is the part where I pay attention in class. ‘Sta luego! Oh, last minute addition – Er and I promised each other to make one friend each today. That definitely did not happen. That is all. Update: Profe is giving us a break in the middle – so I’m never leaving ever. I would leave for home but I have a feeling we’re going to start with actual real notes after this super fun break – I think it’s naptime. Have any of you ever unclogged a drain? Like, actually, really had to unclog a drain? I think that in order to be able to handle such things, one must be a mom. Because my mom can do it without hesitation and so help me God I do not think I will ever be able to handle it without having to mentally prepare first. Dad, for example? He gags. Can't handle the smell of things all gross like that, which I guess is where Sam gets it (which is really convenient when the dogs poop in the house - jerks). Anyway, Spanish people seem to have a personal vendetta against disposals and as such, our sink is clogged.. often. And I think I'm going to introduce the concept of disposals to this country because this is just ridiculous. And also repulsive.
So anyway, classes started this week. I literally got to like two real classes, because the rest were either incorrectly marked rooms, professors decided they didn't want to show up, classes were cancelled, God said no, whatever it may be - the point is, class didn't happen very much. And we had Monday off and tomorrow off and so... it was clearly a tough week. I'm actually pretty pumped about tomorrow. Waking up at 8am to go to the gym, heading home afterwards for lunch, meeting the girls to go shopping, teaching an English class tomorrow night (!!!) and then going out for tapas and sangria with Be and Er. I'm expecting a pretty cool day, honestly. Oh, also! I have a buddy! Someone go tell my mom! Just kidding, but seriously. I was assigned a buddy with the buddy program. His name is Jorge and he seems pretty nice! Should be interested to meet him and start making "friends" or something. We'll see! I think the girls and I are going to take a day trip this weekend because we have a three day weekend because life in Spain is veeeery difficult. It's honestly been such a crazy week and there are so many things I want to talk about but I think if I try to say it all, my head will explode. Like, actually. Today's word, by the way, is tropezar. It means to trip. I trip pretty often. I am easily one of the most clumsy people you've ever met. I trip. A lot. Like over my own feet, even. There's a step to get up to my apartment building, just one single step, and I freakin' trip on it every time. Which - bear with me here - could theoretically be a super duper metaphor for my life. I trip in life. I met two of my favorite people in the WHOLE entire world - John and Ky - because dad moved us to California. Ky was in my stats class and we started studying. Ky introduced me to John when he had a barbecue one day towards the end of our senior year. I met Becka when we both moved to Virginia in eighth grade. I met Jess through her older brother, whom I was friends with before I ever even met her. I met Chrissy through Becks, and she is such a blessing in my life. And I met my best friends at school; Christopher, Chris, Adam and Nick, because we lived on the same freaking floor. Who gets that lucky? All of these people? They are in my life because one way or another, I tripped and stumbled into their lives. They have changed my lives, each and every one of them. All because my clumsy self needed catching when I tripped and fell. So maybe being clumsy isn't so bad, huh? Maybe it's a blessing. Maybe. I at least like to think it is. Anyway, I've been thinking way too much and my brain hurts and I need a bottle of wine and some delicious tapas, so tomorrow should be pretty great. I'm psyched, I'll let you know how it goes. Happy Thursday, everyone! I think I'm going to explode.
If anyone has any objections, please keep your mouth shut because I'm going to do it anyway. Classes started here at UM yesterday (University of Murcia). My first class was Modern Universal History, which was supposed to be at 10am and I had it with Er so we were pretty excited. We went to an 8:30am gym class - her idea obviously, not mine - and then headed to campus! We initially walked into the wrong building but quickly realized that we had done so and booked it to our classroom in the building across the courtyard. Suffice it to say our haste was unnecessary. After we waited with the rest of the class until 10:40 and STILL had no professor, we decided that as much as we liked Spanish-people-watching, it was time to go. We went and got some coffee - which you would think was cutting into my budget with how often I get it, but it's only 50 cents - and then headed to our respective apartments for lunch. We met up about an hour later to head to the mall - I wanted a duffel bag for the gym and had never been to the mall, so we took the tram over and shopped for a few hours until it was time for me to head to my 6pm German class. Mind you, I was terrified to walk into this classroom considering I haven't been able to speak German in over a month, but what can you do. Upon walking in, I found out that I had signed up for a FIRST YEAR GERMAN CLASS, so I spent two hours of my life learning how to introduce myself oooover and over again. And over. Again. By the way, I could not leave because the classroom was small and that would be rude and I wanted to ask the very nice professor's advice after class about what I should do. After speaking with Profesora Strohschen, I decided to move up a few levels of German and add another language - either Arabic or Italian. And let me just say that if you think a second language is hard, you should try getting something about your third language explained to you in your second one. My brain did this super cool thing where it switched languages every few sentences, like when I tried to even talk about German, my language switched to German, and after a few sentences, I could get back to Spanish. My freakin' break hurt. And yet, fourth language here I come. After class, I headed over to Er's to vent about my super duper first day of classes and cuddle and talk to Abbe on the phone (because God forbid we walk to each others' apartments). Anyway, today was a new day, which started for me when Er barged into my room at 9:15 this morning saying that she hated me and I need a new alarm clock - we had a 9am class but there was another 10am session so it's not as bad is it sounds, and trust me, that was the easy part of this morning. While I was worried about what would be expected of me in these classes, I was also really, very excited. Turns out I didn't need to be feeling any kind of anything because Er and I actually walked into the WRONG ROOM this morning and cannot escape because this place is like Alcatraz: there is ONE door - which of course is on the opposite side at the front of the room (which Er and I cannot get to because we sit where we belong in the back corner) - and we cannot just walk out because I get stared at enough as the tall freakin' blonde in Spain - there are not many of us - so walking out in the middle of class with my little redheaded best friend does not exactly sound like my cup of tea. I can see the door from here. It's so close, and yet so far. The profe seems like a very nice lady - too bad this is so not my class even a little bit. Cannot stop glancing at the door. Got my internet to work in class which is how I am currently writing to you lovely people, otherwise I would have had to choose between bashing my head against my desk (quietly, so as not to disturb the peace), lying down on the exceptionally clean floor and taking a nap, or breaking through the window with my backpack (totally logical) and subsequently jumping out of one of the many windows that line this 3rd story classroom. Personally I'm leaning toward the third option, but I'm definitely open to suggestions! Next up is Syntax and Semantics, which starts exactly when this class ends and is somewhere on the second floor. I'll let ya know how that goes - wish me luck! Oh. My. Goodness. It has been QUITE a week. First off, to all who were sympathetic to (or laughing at) my monetary crisis, it has now ended and I have my own money thanks to my mother, who somehow got a two week wire transfer to happen in one day.. Apparently when you tell the bank you have a starving kid in another country, they take pity on you and give your daughter the money before she keels over and dies. Also thanks to my dad, who fixed the scanner (he's exceptionally handy, a trait I did not inherit) without which I don't even want to think about the negative euros I would have at this point. With this much needed dinero I have paid my rent (thank God my landlord is a patient woman, gotten groceries (because I was in a perpetual state of starvation) and bought my soul back from Er so she no longer owns me (I had to borrow money in my time of need).
It was a relatively slow week for us, lots of wandering around town and Netflix and reading, along with a blur of intensive classes, sangria, friends, presentations, markets and perpetual happiness. Also I feel it important to mention that I had my first ever paella this weekend and not only was it wonderful, it was made with freakin' rabbit. Be vewy, vewy quiet... the Spanish are hunting bunny wabbits. OH and I took shots that were on fire and then others that literally froze my lungs, which is probably the coolest thing anyone did this weekend unless you're like Bear freakin' Grylls. But truly, I have never had so much free time in my entire life, and while it is absolutely liberating it is also entirely too much to handle all at once. I don't "do" perpetual relaxation. If you know me, you know the only reason I stop moving is because I'm eating, sleeping, or (most likely) I just tripped and fell. But the free time has been healthy for me, I think, because it's new and it's a break from the craziness that is my life, I just have to utilize my time - which, by the way, did involve getting myself a gym membership. The girls and I are signing up for dance classes next week and since the money for both is coming out of my own pocket, I have found a whole new meaning for the word "motivation." So, I'm not sure how many of you know this but I have never really been one to advertise my birthday, I mean it's just another day. But with days like the one I just had and the night leading into it, I think I'll have birthdays more often. Yesterday started off with Er and I going into the city center in search of a nice pair of brown leather boots and a backpack for me. Suffice it to say I came back with neither of those things, but did find two new dresses and the perfect cardigan, as well as two new rompers! Oh, so all of January is just a bunch of crazy awesome sales in Spain in literally every store INCLUDING ZARA *drool* because it's a month long festival, which is pretty awesome if you ask me. Anyway, after we got back from shopping at around 9, we started to get ready to head out for the night! I did my hair for once and even wore a dress so most of you who know me probably wouldn't recognize me considering I actually looked like a girl. We finished getting ready at my flat just in time for our friends to come over! We taught our Spanish friends some American drinking games and then Er and Be gave me my birthday presents - my FAVORITE gummy bears, a chocolate bar and some delicious sparkling white wine! I've also heard tell of some cake that may or may not be occurring tonight - no argument here - but after my gifts we headed for the club! Oh, I almost forgot to mention the fantastic Spanish rendition of Happy Birthday that I was serenaded with at 12:02 our time - I didn't know I was capable of turning that red, but what can I say, I even surprised myself. Andddd before I tell you how late we stayed out, I'd like to preface this by saying that they start and end later in this country, okay? So the fact that we headed out of my house at 1am and I got home at 6am? Absolutely normal, I swear. AND we made new friends! Which is awesome! So we have more people to invite to family dinner! Personally, I'm excited. This morning, after going to bed at 6:30am, I got to wake up at 10am to meet with my landlord (which sounds like evil torture but actually wasn't bad because my body took my sleep more as a nap than as something to actually sustain me and help me function properly in everyday society - which is unfortunate because now I lack the will or strength to move from my desk chair). My flatmate and I cleaned the kitchen (shocker - I actually hate when it's dirty) and then I headed out to meet Er and Be for my 2pm birthday breakfast of a delicious Turkish Kebab, which was, as usual, life altering. Soon afterwards, Luis, Edu, Jorge and Pedro picked us up from my place to go hiking! Honestly this was such an amazing experience. Facebook friends, take a momentary pause from the riveting post you're reading to check out my pictures (ignore the ones with my face in them). Technically the boys brought us there to get to the top of the lookout, but as the opportunity presented itself we decided we had to make it down the face of this compacted sand mountain thing to the beautiful water, which slowly changed from a crystal blue to a sea green to a darker blue as your eyes swept across it. It was not an easy journey and I wouldn't advise anyone who has a serious fear of heights (or small spaces that have a high probability of you falling off of them to your probable death) to do what we did. That being said, I'll be damned if you put something as beautiful as that water in front of me and expect me not to literally get amongst it. So, we did. We would have gone for a swim but we'll have to give it another month or so because arctic plunges are so not my thing. Speaking of which, the weather today was a birthday present in and of itself, it was an absolutely perfect day out and I couldn't have asked for better weather in which to appreciate our hike. On the way back, Luis stopped the car on the side of the tiiiiny little jeep trails you take to get up and down the mountain (while praying no one is trying to go in the opposite direction that has a bigger car than you do) and we picked (stole) some perfectly ripe oranges and lemons from the orchards lining the road. I actually just got home about an hour ago and am writing this while eating dinner (leftover pasta from yesterday) and avoiding taking a shower. Probably headed over to Er's soon to bake a cake and watch some Game of Thrones and cuddle - the past 48 hours wiped us out, I don't know how I'm even gonna get my legs to walk the 10 minutes it is to her house, but what can you do. Oh, and we're doing our first family dinner tomorrow! I'm gonna make Mexican, it's a fan favorite and anything my mom gives me a recipe for is going to be amazing regardless. All in all it has been the best birthday I could ever have asked for in a country as perfect as this one and I am so blessed to have spent it here in Murcia! Ah, yes, the word of the day! Today it's more of a phrase, but "hasta el infinitvo y más allá" literally means to infinity and beyond. As Buzz Lightyear-y as that sounds, it's kind of how I feel. It's like the opportunities are endless, and not in a dreamy-maybe kind of way, but like an actual real way. Like, I'm going to Milan next weekend. Why? Because it's my friend's birthday and because I can. MILAN! Who gets to do that?! I am repeatedly struck by how truly blessed I am with not only my life but specifically the people in it. I don't know what I would do without them and I hope to God I never have to find out. Point is, there is an infinite number of ways and directions my life could go from here and not only am I not scared of them, I'm not even worried about them. Why? Because I feel as though truly, anything could happen. To infinity.. and beyond. So as per the norm, I'm super not sure where to start, but I guess I could rock the chronological approach.
Still sick, by the way. Not like dying in bed sick but more like disgusting stuffy nose and super icky cough sick, you know, the kind you get dirty looks for because you sound repulsive. It reaaaally reals in the men. Thursday night involved copious amounts of delicious Chinese food and some seriously horrible movie-watching. PSA: For any and all who ever watch a movie with Erin Zern, do NOT let her pick the movie. She will pick a crappy one with no plot that makes your brain hurt because it sucks so bad but you can't stop watching it because you feel like that's quitting, while she is asleep within the first twenty minutes. This Friday we all skipped our irrelevant intensive class to sleep in - which by the way does not happen for me past 10:30, this country does not want me to miss out on anything because I have yet to be able to sleep in past then. And Er, Abbe and I went bar hopping Friday night! It's exceptionally gratifying to walk into a bar and be able to order something as an almost 20 year old from the States. It's even more gratifying to be able to order the most amazing sangria you've ever had the pleasure of consuming. This stuff is like alcoholic sugar water, it's almost not fair. Surprisingly enough, I was actually dressed like a real person with real people clothes which as many of you know is a rare occurrence. There are bars everywhere here. Places that are considered cafes by day are bars by night, with the tequila stocked behind the espresso machine. These people know what they're doing. The bars are each very unique and you can choose, as usual, by the kind of atmosphere you want to be in. Personally I would much rather split a few jars of sangria with friends while we sit in a more relaxed bar, or even go to somewhere like Revolver which plays Rock n' Roll music (which is pretty sick if you ask me) and dance with friends someplace like that. I'm usually happy to go clubbing but that usually involves heels and considering that ALL of my friends here are 5'4 or shorter, heels would sooo not be my friend unless I wanna look like Andre the Giant - which I don't. Saturday morning Er and I left for Cartagena on the 11:50 train out of Murcia! First off can I just say that having this much freedom and free time is totally disconcerting. We wanted to go somewhere, so we went. I had no homework, no prior commitments, no nothing. So we went! Let me preface the rest of this paragraph by saying that my poor, poor legs walked NINETEEN MILES yesterday. A mile and a half to and from the train station to my apartment, and then sixteen miles in Cartagena. Suffice it to say that I plan on staying in my bed as much as possible today. So as I said, we left on the 11:50 train and it took about 45 minutes to get into Cartagena. Honestly when we got off the train we were worried we had gotten the location of the train station wrong and were actually in the middle of nowhere outside of Cartagena (I swear we looked it up first), BUT, walk a few minutes up the main street coming out of the station and hello beautiful port city. I actually think I stopped breathing when I saw the water for the first time. Ask Er, the minute we saw it off in the distance I literally couldn't stop laughing and smiling. I don't think a single minute passed yesterday when I wasn't smiling. We walked up to the water and had bocadillos (hot sandwiches) and drank water from a glass bottle out of wine glasses (I know, I know) and looked out at the water. We followed the edge of the water for a few miles and just appreciated it for awhile before sitting down and talking on the edge of the pier for about an hour with my feet about a foot away from touching the water. Then we moved on into the more historic part of Cartagena, and holy wow was it beautiful. We walked through the city and without intending to Er found some super posh and really gorgeous wardrobe additions and I finally got jackets! I love them. It's pretty chilly here in the morning and at night and I was smart enough to leave my jacket on the plane so I (terribly unfortunately) had to buy some new ones in Spain. We walked around for hours and when about 4:30 came around we realized that we still had six hours in the city (our returning train left at 10:05 and it was about time for some food. We basically stumbled into a tavern looking restaurant built into the structure of some of the old Cartagenan aqueducts. We stopped to ask for a bathroom but were captivated by the place, so we sat down for a snack. We decided to stick with tapas because the place was fancy and our wallets were empty. Er ordered grilled scallops with baked potato and a salted cheese sauce, and I got what the waiter recommended, "angus burger" tapas which sounds super American but it was absolutely not. I don't even know how to put into words how amazing this food was. Like, it was life changing. An out of body experience. Every bite was even better than the last which makes no sense but I swear you'd get it if you'd had it. The thing about tapas is that they're the Spanish version of social food. Like, you don't go out to eat tapas, you go out to socialize and tapas is what you get for everyone to share while you talk. As a result, the serving size is small, which in this case was perfect because instead of gorging myself and not appreciating the flavor explosion I had just received, I got to enjoy what I had and then sit there and think about what an amazing person the chef must be to have created something so awesome. I could honestly probably write this entire post about my food yesterday, that's how good it was. Er and I just sat and enjoyed the view of the birds playing in the fountain outside until we headed back out into the city. We walked around (19 miles worth) and actually found a bridge with a walkway that led back behind some houses down a beautiful cobblestone pathway, and to those of you who are my Facebook friends, that's where we found the "Te amo Alex J" which was beyond cool, I mean we went down that pathway because Er thought it looked pretty and then someone wrote that there? Come on serendipity. We wandered back into the city and went shopping for awhile, stopped for coffee to give our legs a break, and watched what we could see of the sunset behind the mountains (yes, mountains at the waterfront). We sat for awhile looking out at the water with the night lights reflecting on it and talked about some of the scary stuff - life, our futures, that kind of thing. Then we made our way back to the train station and stopped for some tortillas españolas and chicken croquettes, which got us talking about our traditional foods from home (as someone from southern California and someone from Amish country Pennsylvania, we have plenty of food to be proud of) and decided where we would take each other when we came to visit each other's homes next year. We finally headed back to the train station and got home at about midnight. We'd made a deal that if there was a taxi already at the station when we got there then we would take it, and if not we'd walk home.. guess which actually happened. Yay exercise! All in all it was an amazing day. Honestly I couldn't have asked for better and I could not keep the smile off my face. I learned that Erin can't spell to save her life and that there is absolutely no point in trying to navigate through anywhere without Google maps on your side so it's best to just wander and see where it takes you (cause usually it's pretty great). Er and I agreed that part of the reason we're so carefree and happy here is because we don't have our whole lives going on yet, we literally and figuratively left everything in the actual past (because I'm 9 hours ahead of home and she's 6 - yay time differences), but I also think a huge part of it is how amazing this country is and all of the opportunities it holds for us in the next five months. I am so, so happy to be here. Lastly, the word of the day today is atascarse. It means literally "to get stuck." I learned what it meant when I was washing dishes last night and I asked Ysa how to say "the food gets stuck in the drain" - I'm a pretty inquisitive person, I probably drive my flatmates crazy because I want to learn everything ever, but what can you do. So anyway, I figured it was a good fit, because getting stuck is not fun. As Dr. Seuss once said, "I'm sorry to say so but sadly it's true, that bang-ups and hang-ups can happen to you. You can get all hung up in a prickle-y perch, and your gang will fly on. You'll be left in a lurch. You'll come down from the lurch with an unpleasant bump. And chances are then, that you'll be in a slump. And when you're in a slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done." The man was right, un-slumping is a difficult process. But people get stuck. Whether it be at work, at home, with family or friends, you can get stuck. And sometimes you don't realize it until you've been there awhile, but you'll come out of it. I think there are a lot of lurches in life, but you've got to get past them. And while I do understand that un-slumping is much easier when you're a new resident of a beautiful country like Spain, if I can do it, anyone can. Interestingly enough, if you wanna get reaaaally metaphorical and philosophical with it, you can take into account the fact that atascarse is a reflexive verb, meaning that in a literal translation it would mean that something "gets itself stuck." Do what you will with that bit of insight. Anyway, sorry for comparing myself or anyone else having a rough time to food getting stuck in the drain, but analogies aren't really my thing, whatever. I think it's about nap time, yesterday wore me out and if I'm gonna make it till tomorrow I need some hard core sleep between now and then. Till next time lovelies <3 Oh boy has it been a week. Sorry for the lack of writing, it was like nothing terrifically, astonishingly, wondrous happened that was write-worthy and now I have ALL of the things to say, all at once. I promise to do my best to keep my thoughts organized so your brain doesn't hurt by the time you're done reading.
Alright, so first off, I'm sick. Leave it to me to get sick within my first week in a foreign country, or anywhere really. It's more of a head cold with an added cough (if that isn't implied when you say head cold - I know nothing), so I can work through it. Interestingly enough, my family back home and my friends here are sick, so either my family has some sort of connection I'm not aware of or else we are some seriously unlucky people. So, due to the fact that I'm not on my death bed, I still have to attend our Spanish intensive. Can I just say how absolutely useless that thing is? Today we went over how to use the conditional tense and the inner workings of commands ("Do that" is different than "Will you do that?"). Yesterday we had to write a love story (ew). These are the things I do every morning from 9:30 (I hate single digit morning times for those who don't know) till 1pm, with a half hour break around 11:30. Luckily, the building we have the class in is literally (yes dad, literally) a three minute walk from my apartment, so I can wake up at 9:15, eat some breakfast, and make it there just fine. Some of you may not be aware of my undying hatred for mornings, but for those of you who are, you'll be surprised to learn that they are slightly harder to hate when all you want to do is wake up and go experience the beautiful place you live in. So, I wake up, head to the absolutely useless class of irrelevance from Hell, take a break (aka go get a snack at my apartment), come back for more happy fun times in class, and head home with Abbe and Er. We break for lunch at our own apartments because we're too poor to go out to eat (have yet to receive our stipends) and we have enough food at our apartments that we need to get rid of it before we buy anything else. Look at me being financially responsible. Speaking of food, I have been all about the cooking game recently. Today I had chicken and cheese quesadillas with refried beans (brought to me by Abbe because I'm sickly and she pities me and is amazing) and then some salsa. Last night was steamed veggies with pasta that had chicken and mushrooms in it and some tomato sauce on top, I even impressed myself. Oh, I finally opened a Spanish bank account! If it wasn't real before, it certainly is now. Granted, it has no money in it, but we'll get there when we get there - baby steps. The lady who helped us open our bank accounts is actually the sweetest little lady ever, despite the deceiving, perpetually sour look on her face. She gave us (when I say us, I mean Abbe, Er and I) a list of the best tapas bars in the city and I feel obliged to visit every single one of them - I will let you know my thoughts, but I can foresee only good things for anything involving Spanish food and drink. Let's see, what else is going on.. I finally got hangers to unpack my clothes! I had yet to do so until a few days ago because I had no money - not actually, I have money but my credit cards cannot be used at ATM's here so in effect, I have no money - but Er loaned me some (God bless her) and I got to put my clothes away! My room is rather bare but there's only so much you can bring from one continent to another, I do wish I had brought my photo albums though.. Oh well, next time! Anyway, I should be getting the school stipend sent to my Spanish account soon so never fear (Grandma Sharon and Grandpa Wayne) I promise I am just fine! OH MY GOSH GUYS YSA TOLD ME ABOUT A PLACE FOR DANCE LESSONS THAT'S ONLY FIFTEEN MINUTES FROM MY HOUSE AND ABBE SAID SHE WOULD TAKE IT WITH ME! It's two days a week and you learn the salsa and the bachata! I am actually going to learn SPANISH DANCES in SPAIN. I know, I know, please inhale and exhale before you throw your computer at the wall because you hate me and would hit me with something if I were in your vicinity - but you can't because I'm in Spain, HA! Okay, I'm done.. For now. But yes, dance classes! I'm actually really excited. There is a one hundred percent chance that I will make a fool of myself during these classes but who cares, I'm here for me and I'm going to enjoy it! That has been my recent philosophy - I came up with it on the plane ride over here - I plan to do things and try things that I wouldn't normally do, whether it be because I normally don't have the time or the confidence or the guts to do them, I will try these things in Spain. For example, taking Spanish dance classes that will inevitably embarrass me until I get the hang of them, and skipping homework that usually takes priority to go experience something that I may never have the chance to again. I know that last bit makes me sound horrifyingly nerdy but what can I say, I school. I school a lot. But here, I just need to pass my classes to get credit at WVU, and as terrible as it sounds to someone who usually fights tooth and nail for every grade I get, I just want to pass if it means that I enjoy my time here that much more. I'm pretty excited for like two and a half of my classes. Medieval Literature doesn't exactly tickle my fancy but my Linguistics, German and (possibly) Psych classes should be pretty cool! Speaking of which, I had to email one of my German professors back home to see which level of German I should take and she told me that no matter what I took I would be "dynamite." Suffice it to say that made my day. It will be interesting to see how German goes because honestly typing this post is hard in and of itself because of all the Spanish I've been speaking but I think I'll be okay after the first few days. I actually got to talk to someone the other day - he was serving doeners and anyone who hasn't had one needs to hop the next flight over to taste one, they're Turkish gyros basically and you see them a lot in Germany - but this guy spoke broken English and then fluent Spanish and German, so I actually used all three of my languages in a five minute period and holy wow did my brain hurt after that.. But it was pretty cool! Language is not one of those immediately gratifying things to study. Like, for me I get excited to learn new words (shut up I know I'm weird) but it's a whole other thing to get to actually use everything you've been learning for so long and see that you know what you're doing, despite your doubts and reservations about your abilities. I actually speak Spanish! And my German is pretty decent too! Who knew, right? Tonight the girls and I are going to get our Erasmus ID's! Erasmus is like the student association of the European Union - they organize a bunch of trips at like half the normal price, so they are directly up the average poor international student's alley. Afterwards we're headed to attempt to find me some boots and a freakin' jacket because I'm dumb and left mine in the car AT THE AIRPORT when I left San Diego. Go team. It's not like freezing here but at night and early in the morning, a jacket would be lovely. You know how in America there's a lot of "You're in America, learn English"? So Germany is easily the most English-capable country I've visited, so even when you wanna speak German they want to practice there English. Spain is different in that very few people have any significant experience with English but when you speak Spanish with them they are more than happy to supply words you don't know or are trying to work around and to (very politely) help correct little grammar mistakes. Honestly, that's all I ask. I know I will mess up, God knows I can barely speak English, but the people here know just how to help a girl out. My flatmates left me alone, by the way. Yas is visiting home - the Canary Islands (jerk), Ines is visiting her boyfriend who lives close to her home (near valencia), and Ysa is mostly at her boyfriend's house across the street. I, pathetically enough, get super scared at night because I'm actually a child, so I close all the blinds and deadbolt the door and keep at least one light on. **pause for laughter at my childishness** But the girls will be returning within the week and in the meantime Er and Abbe have both offered for me to stay at their places! Tonight we're actually going to have a sleepover at my place and order food and drink sangria and complain about how hard it is to be a college student in Spain (life is just sooo difficult) and watch some movies! Oh and I had an actual real good idea! We're going to do Sunday dinners! My flatmates, Abbe, Er and whoever else we may or may not happen to like enough to invite (no one) are gonna take turns with who cooks one big meal for the whole group and we'll all contribute a few euros! That way, us 'Murican's get authentic Spanish food, and the girls get all kinds of American food (though they're all the most excited for the Mexican food I plan on cooking) but I can't take any credit for any of my food - my mother is the absolute best cook EVER. I swear I would be way skinnier if I hadn't lived at home the first 18 years of my life, and she gets her cooking abilities from my Grandma so I can only hope that I have just a tiiiiny bit of that talent. I'm super excited for Sunday dinners though! I think it'll be pretty great, but I'll let you know for sure! The girls and I would like to do a day trip to somewhere this weekend because classes don't start till the week after next but we're going to check and see what Erasmus has planned for the semester before we do anything else - it's way too great of an opportunity to pass up. Again with the financial responsibility - who am I? In other news, I would like to make my appreciation for my mother and the rest of my family known, if it isn't already. While I talk to my mom every single day, my sisters and father absolutely suck at communication when I am not physically in the same place as them, but that's okay cause I know they love me. Little one says things like "my day is better now that I'm talking to you," middle bear is always supportive - this was a rough week for me and I needed her dry humor to get me out of my funk - and dad never fails to remind me how proud he is of me, which means a whole hell of a lot more than I think he knows. My grandparents talk to me constantly, whether it be on Facebook or even on WhatsApp - my grandma Sharon is the most technologically advanced 70 year old woman you will ever meet. I truly don't know what I would do without them. AND I got to talk to my mom for 23 minutes the other night and holy crap did that make my week, that woman is my freakin' favorite. Also, Er and Abbe are the absolute best people I could have with me to take on Spain. Er is infallibly by my side when I need her whether I'm emotionally sick and twisty and need chocolate covered churros and a kick on the butt to keep me going or if I need some more cough drops and soup because I'm actually physically sick, she's there, and I couldn't ask for more. Abbe is already glued to our hips, and I love it. As most of you know, I am happy to talk and be friendly with pretty much anyone - there is good in everyone that makes them at least tolerable if you look hard enough - but I'm pretty selective with actual close friends, and Abbe slid right into friendship's DMs with Er and I. She's precious. She's SO sweet and really, really wonderful to hang out with, and astoundingly similar to Er and I. The three of us get along really, really well and I couldn't be happier to have them by my side (especially since Abbe knew I was dying and brought me the refried beans I needed for quesadillas today so I didn't have to walk to the store - hello brownie points). And as I said, my flatmates are wonderful and fantastic as well, I've heard lots and lots of stories about crappy placement here as far as people go and I was beyond lucky, I adore my girls! Lastly, before you fall asleep reading because you're just that bored, I wanted to explain the post title. Today's phrase is "Es caprichoso el azar" which translates more or less to "Fate is capricious/whimsical" as in it's out of our hands, unpredictable, and sometimes without reason. This, for me, is huge. There are a lot of things that have happened in my life that I knew I would not be able to change, but I tried to live by the whole "if you don't like it, change it and if you can't change it, change your attitude" thing so I mean thus far I've been okay. Personally, I love this saying. It's something I've had to wrestle with for a long time. I don't like it when things are out of my hands, I hate when I can't fix something or help someone or figure out the "why" behind something that feels like it happened for no good reason. This new saying is one that I plan to try and live by for at least my time abroad, if not even longer. Truly, you can't always change it. Fate, or whatever you believe in, is not something we can always control, and while I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea of things being out of my control, I think my time here will help me come to terms with it, and even embrace it. Life is short, and I don't want to waste time questioning it when I should be living it. Until next time, mis amores. |
IntroI wrote this blog while living in Spain my second year of college - figured it wouldn't hurt to share. |