¿Cuánto tiempo ha pasado?

It has been WAY too long since my last post (exactly two weeks to the day) and I'd just like to give you all my lousy excuses for not writing.

1. My internet access is unreliable.
2. There's a lot to do here. If I'm not in class, I'm eating comida, then going to class. Or, as on Wednesdays and Thursdays, I go into Madrid in the afternoon and usually don't come back to Alcalá until bedtime.
3. Last week, I was studying for a test all week, then went to Amsterdam over the weekend, then had to rehearse this past week for the talent show in Alcalá. Details will follow.

So I'm sorry. I don't even know if people still check this thing to see my progress. But hopefully someone does. More thoughts on time...

I feel so separate from everything. There's so much to do HERE, and so much to do THERE, in the States, like worrying about internships, applying for financial aid and to be an orientation leader, and trying to update all of my individual friends on all of my escapades...it's hard to personalize these things for everyone, so for that, I'm sorry. I still have postcards from Barcelona waiting to be sent. I suck at communicating. I'm supposed to have a pen pal, and I've written her once.

All right...since I don't want to write all that much, I'll try (try, mind you) to keep it short, without sacrificing too many details.

First of all, if you haven't already heard, I got a haircut, and now my hair is as short as it's ever been. I didn't like it at first, but it's grown on me (pun intended) and I think I'm going to keep it like this for a while.

Now, Amsterdam highlights.

1. The Girls. I spent the weekend with three wonderful, beautiful girls, and we had a phenomenal time together.

First of all, I met Emma, who has successfully evaded meeting me for the past three years. We made up for that lost time with a conversation that lasted all Thursday night, allowing us only twenty minutes of actual sleep. Then, we had an entire afternoon in Amsterdam before Gina and Katherine showed up, which gave us a few hours to enjoy a boat ride through the canals of the city and see 14th century watchtowers and the richer part of town.

Then Gina and Katherine arrived, and the group was complete, and life seemed complete. It was difficult getting away from Alcalá and Spain, but the break was a pleasant one, and made even more heavenly with these three goddesses.

We walked to streets of Amsterdam, getting lost between the Red Light District and Leidseplein, Anne Frank's house and the Van Gogh Museum.

2. The traveling. I wouldn't exactly call it a "highlight," but it certainly was memorable. I flew into Paris on Thursday, and the transportation workers, being French, decided to go on strike, which severely limited my access to the city. Luckily, I had two goddesses to guide me to the one bus that went from De Gaulle Airport to the middle of the city. Katherine and Emma were so helpful, and after working my way through the airport and waiting in the cold for this bus, I arrived at the Arc de Triomphe, which was quite a sight, never having been to Paris.

Then, the next morning, Emma and I had to sprint to the train station in Paris to catch our 6:30am train to Amsterdam, which was another adventure.

The trip from Amsterdam back to Madrid was frustrating. I took the train from Amsterdam to Paris with Katherine and Gina, and we got to the RER (Paris's commuter rail) which didn't accept my credit cards, but Gina was a sweetheart and bought me my ticket to the airport. I got the airport in perfect time, an hour ahead of the flight. I went through security once, then discovered an hour delay for my flight. Then, they changed gates, so we had to move, go through security again, and arrive at the gate to discover another delay. The plane couldn't get to the gate for some reason or another, so we had to take a bus from the jetway to the runway, where the plane was waiting. The flight was fine, but due to the delays, I couldn't take the train home from Madrid, and had to run to catch that last Metro at 12:30am to Avenida de Americas, where I can catch a bus that leaves every hour on the hour. I got there at 1:02am. The bus left as I arrived. I had to kill an hour before the next bus showed up, so I did a little homework. Long story short, I travelled for 12 hours that day. 2:30pm to 2:30am.

3. Chipsy King. The best french fries I've ever had.

4. My life-changing experience walking through the Red Light District. Seeing prostitutes shaking their bodies in their windows at potential clients was...striking. Susannah would know what I felt...and if you've read John Irving's "A Widow for One Year" you would know too. All they needed was a "For Sale" sign to complete the complete forfeit of their self-esteem. I had an interesting conversation about the legalization of prostitution with the girls. But mostly, seeing foreign women who came to Amsterdam to pursue a legal career in this field...it was sad and intriguing and odd.

And now...pictures.







I wish I had more time to write, but sadly, I'm in Spain. So, as always, I'm on the go. Miss you all, as always. And expect a postcard soon...maybe.

Madrid está pateando mi culo

Last weekend, the program treated us all to an excursion in Extremadura, the autonomous community of Western Spain, right next to Portugal. We took a bus and left early on Friday morning from Cibeles in Madrid at 8:00am, which meant that us Alcalá kids had to wake up at 6:00am or 6:30 to catch a train that would get us there in time. I’m used to getting up at 10:30am in Spain, like most other Spaniards, so this was a surprisingly difficult thing to do. A few of my companions in Alcalá woke up just five minutes before our first train left (there were four possible trains to catch…), which made for an interesting/stressful morning.

Our first stop in Extremadura was Trujillo, the birthplace of the murderous conquistador of the Incan people, Cortes. There are statues of him everywhere, and his home is a museum, so perhaps I shouldn’t mention that he was a murderer while I’m in Spain. But the town was beautiful, of course, with old castles and bell towers in cathedrals, which offered gorgeous views of the town from above and the Extremeño landscape. We had lunch in Trujillo (an odd mix of breadcrumbs, judias, and carne picante…the traditional Extremadura meal) and walked around the town for a while, admiring the small twisting streets and cute little plazas perfect for sunbathing and relaxing.




Next was Cáceres, the capital of Extremadura. Again, we visited the sights with Arturo, our art professor, and he told us about the gothic, Arabic, and Roman architectures of the various buildings. That day, however, was the day of an enormous food fair, so after our tour, and just as the sun’s light took on that mustard yellow hue, we hit the fair and tried various types of chorizo, jamón, vino, and queso.





Then, we decided to buy a bottle of wine, but we didn’t have a corkscrew. We walked down the main street, looking for a place that would sell them, but after thirty minutes, we had nothing. I went into an expensive jamón store and asked the employee if he knew of a store that sold them. He took me to the back of the store and showed me professional-grade corkscrews with meters to read the temperature, humidity, God knows what. And for 30€?! I asked for something more simple…something that JUST opens bottles of wine. He ran up to his inventory room and brought down a little box with the perfect corkscrew. He handed it to me and I said, “Perfect! How much?” He replied, “Go ask the cashier.” I said, “Thank you so much!” And he started to laugh, and revealed his joke by saying, “No, no, it’s free. Take it. Have fun!” I love Spain.

Saturday, we went to a modern art museum full of odd sculptures and audiovisual exhibits, which mostly just confused me and gave me a headache. Outside of the museum there was a manmade lake and a beautiful walking path. On our walk, we saw flocks of sheep and a group of donkeys that we befriended.




After the museum, we drove to Mérida, one of the Roman Empire’s most important outposts, and the town in which Russell Crowe’s character from “Gladiator” lived. We walked through the ruins and saw the coliseum and the theater, both of which were astonishing. That night, we stayed in a monastery in the city of Guadalupe, and made a little too much noise.




Sunday morning we toured the monastery, which was incredible, with Arabic influence and a great story about St. Guadalupe. After, we sat on the steps of the monastery and some us sunbathed while others sang songs for an hour.



Monday, I woke up late and enjoyed a quiet day in bed, not really doing work. I was excited to go to my salsa class again, after missing the previous week due to my ankle injury. But, at 7:00pm, I got a call from Emily, who was in Madrid for a few hours, and convinced me to ditch my salsa class and instead walk around Madrid with her, getting some tapas at El Tigre, enjoying delicious chocolate and churros, and sitting in the gardens outside Palacio Real. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Monday night. She told me all about her adventures in Morocco with her friend Sarah, and now, I really want to get down there, if only for an afternoon.

Now, I am nursing my newest injuries from our fútbol game yesterday, during which I tripped and fell on the jagged rocks of the park, and ripped open my knee and hands. So…yea…I’m too clumsy here. As Erica so eloquently put it, “Madrid is kicking your ass!” It’s the truth. And I want it to stop. I felt like a baby at the beginning of my time here because of my inability to communicate. Now I can pretty much understand everything, but I still feel childish. Like I’m going through a giant growth spurt, and I’m just getting used to my height. I’m always tired, and I’m always hurting myself. I still need to find my feet.

Barcelona y Montserrat y MÁS

This past weekend was our adventure in Barcelona. And it WAS an adventure.

Let's start off by saying that I should never plan things on my own. My upcoming trip to Paris/Amsterdam was planned almost entirely by Emma, and I didn't realize how much work and...you know...common sense went into this sort of thing. I decided to take it upon myself and book the hostel in Barcelona when we planned this trip a few weeks ago. I booked a cheap one that got good reviews, even though it was outside the city. The week before we left, we started to rethink its location (the last stop on one of the Metro lines...) and Thursday night, the night before we left, I made an impromptu decision to change our hostel to something closer to the center of the city. I found a great one, made a reservation, and called the other hostel to cancel the reservation, where I was told that I would be charged for the first night's fees because I cancelled the reservation less than 24 hours ahead of the time of arrival. Which turned out to be the policy of all hostels. So...long story short...I cost my friends an extra 17€, because I decided not to read the terms of the hostel. I felt like a dope, and was a bit of a Debbie Downer (no...not a bit...I was really disappointed in myself...), but my friends were very supportive.

But before we get to the adventures in Barcelona, there's something I'd like to address about myself. Something that was revealed to me through this experience by my friends. One my of the Alcaláños told me, "Don't get mad..." I responded, "Don't worry...I never get mad. I get frustrated, but I never get mad." I think that's pretty much the case all the time. But I was mad at myself after this hostel debacle. This friend told me that I was wrong. I do get mad. But only at myself. I save my anger and project it all on myself. Because that's what makes other people happy, right?

Well...no more. I'm always afraid to speak my mind and tell people how I feel, and I never ever show others that I am upset with them. Things might change from now on. Or at least, I'll try to change my ways.

Ok...sorry for the rant...it was a big realization, and it needed to be said.

Barcelona is a beautiful city. Truly magnificent architecture, a completely different attitude toward life and Spain, and a type of machismo and aggressiveness not seen anywhere else I've been to.

Highlights:
1. We walked down Las Ramblas, the main tourist drag from Plaça Catalunya to the ocean, and went to La Boqueria, the most wonderful market I've ever seen. There were stands after stands after stands of fresh fruits and vegetables, jamón ibérico and manchego cheese, spices and curries, shellfish and whole fish, and so much more. So, going from experience, we bought ingredients for another picnic, this time by the sea. It was a beautiful day, and we snacked on jamón and strawberries and chorizo and cava and surprisingly tasty 5€ rioja wine.







2. We ventured up to Parc Güell, Gaudi's awesome park overlooking the city. Full of mosaics and twisted towers and open market space, Güell was another spectacular sight. The view was great, the lighting would have made Gary squeal with excitement, and it was a great time. See here:







3. We met up with Tara and Lucy and Connor in the Gothic Quarter. It was great to see Tara and Lucy (and Connor of course, but I see him every week...) but us Alcaláños were beat from our long day, so we said goodnight pretty quickly and went back to hostel. On Saturday, we rendezvoused with them again, and they brought along the lovely Nissa, who was a sight for sore eyes. However, at this point, I had a sore ankle (more on that later), so she was really a sight for sore...ankles? Whatever...the point is, it was great to see her as well, even though she kinda guilt-tripped me into organizing a trip to Bologna soon. But my ankle was throbbing, so I had to say goodbye to her and Tara and Lucy almost as soon as we had reunited again. Sunday night, Tara took a break from her studies and joined me for a late-night coffee, where we reminisced about how we both miss sQ! so much, and how the abroad experiences are going. I didn't really realize how much I miss Tara...but I did, and I still do.

4. Saturday we visited Montserrat, a monastery built into the mountains right outside of Barcelona. We had to take a cable car/gondola up the mountain, an exhilarating ride both ways. The food was mediocre, the sights were incredible, and there's not much else to say.







5. We were guided by Ethan's friend Hallie to many wonderful spots in Barcelona, particularly on Sunday morning to a small plaça to witness the Catalan sport "castellers," in which teams build towers or castles (castle = castell) of people. There's a large base at the bottom full of strong men, and as you go up the tower, the team members become progressively smaller. At the top is usually a 7 or 8 year-old girl, who will smile all the way up, then blow a kiss to the audience, then slide down the tower. It's an incredible declaration of Catalan pride, and a great way to spend a Sunday morning.




6. We spent some time late Sunday night, early Monday morning with Emily and Santi. Not nearly enough time, but still very fun. We dodged drug dealers and creepy homeless men and prostitutes, and laughed the whole time. Out of fear.

Lowlights (?):
1. There was only one, really. We went to see this awesome fountain show in front of a palace. It was choreographed to Disney music. It was great. Then, a nasty curb attacked my ankle and twisted it in every wrong direction. Saturday night I could barely walk, but the thought of seeing Tara, Lucy, Connor and Nissa gave me the strength to get to Las Ramblas. But Erica and Andrés had to carry me (literally...) back to the hostel. After an ibuprofen on Sunday, I felt like a million bucks, but my left ankle is now three sizes too big, like the Grinch's heart after he learns to love the Whos. And there's some internal bruising. Yummy. Which means, and here's the kicker, no gym, and no salsa for at least a week. But Pilar was a goddess and gave me some German lotion to rub on my foot and an Ace bandage. I really love her. I hope she knows that.

And as for all of you out there, I kindly ask that you comment on the blog, just to say hi or something, because I miss you all so much. If you want to inform me about your life (because even though it may seem like I'm too busy to care, I still do) please send me an e-mail. Much love to you all...I think about you always.