That title courtesy of one of the middle aged Texans that sat down at the same tapas bar we were at last night. Actually tapas bar is a misnomer because it was less bar-ish and more restaurant. And we had some communication issues and wound up getting a lot of food and a hefty bill. But at least the sangria was good.
It's supposed to rain again this weekend which is a major buzzkill with my shoes. I'm running out of options, finally today I caved and wore my running shoes. They feel so good on my feet. I clearly stuck out like an American with my backpack and sneakers; if I was wearing my North Face and brought my Vera Bradley I would have made the outfit complete.
Not much to report, except I'm having less breakdowns. My two politics classes are kind of hard, at least the reading is. And for my film class, we're reading scripts in Spanish. It's hard to understand the stage directions.
In other news, Drew is coming in a couple of weeks. And possibly some London kids, who knows. We are going to the Roman ruins tomorrow and a day trip to Cordoba on Saturday. Tonight is LeAnn's birthday so we're planning on going out, hopefully we can find somewhere good to go.
I really need to do this homework.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Part 2
Here's one from a few days ago::
February 5, 2007
I really enjoyed my classes yesterday. First up, Spanish Cinema. When I signed up for the class a few weeks ago, I thought it would be a dry history of cinema in Spain. Apparently, that was the past…they got a new professor who’s really funny, speaks kind of quickly, but all in all seems like a great guy. Anyway, I think he teaches over at the Universidad de Sevilla en la facultad de comunicaciones. So it could turn out to be pretty intense…and on the suggested reading list was three film theory books. It might not be as hard/long as Film A&A, but we definitely discussed pans, close ups, long shots, etc. The only catch is that it is in Spanish. Extra intensity.
I think I might have angered my host mother when I came home between classes and ate lunch by myself, but no one was home and I did not know when anyone was going to appear. I knew I should have taken a nap. Apparently I cannot just eat a meal on my own, I guess I misinterpreted a snack to be a meal? But seriously, the lack of snackage is killing me. Today I’m going to go to the Corte Ingles to fortify myself. For breakfast, we have two pieces of toast and some chocolate milk which is good. Then at 2/3 pm we have lunch. Dinner is at 9. There isn’t really a lot of food at these shindigs. Or I guess enough but because there are such long stretches between meals it is difficult.
Anyway, I had to walk back to school. On the way I got lost again. It’s so frustrating because I feel like the streets are continually shifting everywhere. And they are tiny and winding and I put myself at risk of getting run over all the time whenever I step out. I had a dance class in the afternoon. It was a lot of fun, and there are actually six boys in the class. Which has to be almost half of the entire male population in the Center. Then I had my poli-sci class. The professor is a sweet guy, he was asking us all about Hillary Clinton. My host mother asked us about her the other day too. What is it with Hillary? Generating international buzz already. Oh Evan Byah, where are you? And apparently John Edwards is back in the race, but taking a more aggressive stance this time around. Seriously, it’s going to be some dark horse that pulls out either party’s nomination.
In other news, I got an email from Danielle today talking about censorship in Singapore and the restrictions on the free flow of information. It made me think a little bit about the media aspect of life here. Except….when I watch the news it is very hard for me to understand because unless there are politicians speaking (they speak slowly and with measure - bless their souls) the anchors speak quickly. I have always taken advantage of the ability to communicate. Here, it is more difficult to understand and be understood because I’m at a very low reading and speaking level, although reading is improving leaps and bounds. I don’t think twice at home about flipping on the TV to watch the news; here, so desperately I want to be able to understand and all I can do is watch the b-roll (oh News I). Also, now that I don’t have regular access to a TV or hard copy of a paper, when I can use the internet to check headlines I’m out of control.
One last note for tonight. The plaza near the Catedral where the dreaded bird poop incidence took place is quickly becoming my favorite spot, despite said incident. I always wind up back there when I’m walking around aimlessly and I’m lucky enough to get to pass it every day on my way to school. It’s very open and wide and is the intersection for the Giralda, Catedral, Museo Bellas Artes and the Alcazar. And the street that leads out to Menedez is really beautiful as well. But anyway, I just love the Catedral. I’m very fascinated by it, and when we went to Church there Sunday it was the first time in three days that I felt at home and at peace.
February 5, 2007
I really enjoyed my classes yesterday. First up, Spanish Cinema. When I signed up for the class a few weeks ago, I thought it would be a dry history of cinema in Spain. Apparently, that was the past…they got a new professor who’s really funny, speaks kind of quickly, but all in all seems like a great guy. Anyway, I think he teaches over at the Universidad de Sevilla en la facultad de comunicaciones. So it could turn out to be pretty intense…and on the suggested reading list was three film theory books. It might not be as hard/long as Film A&A, but we definitely discussed pans, close ups, long shots, etc. The only catch is that it is in Spanish. Extra intensity.
I think I might have angered my host mother when I came home between classes and ate lunch by myself, but no one was home and I did not know when anyone was going to appear. I knew I should have taken a nap. Apparently I cannot just eat a meal on my own, I guess I misinterpreted a snack to be a meal? But seriously, the lack of snackage is killing me. Today I’m going to go to the Corte Ingles to fortify myself. For breakfast, we have two pieces of toast and some chocolate milk which is good. Then at 2/3 pm we have lunch. Dinner is at 9. There isn’t really a lot of food at these shindigs. Or I guess enough but because there are such long stretches between meals it is difficult.
Anyway, I had to walk back to school. On the way I got lost again. It’s so frustrating because I feel like the streets are continually shifting everywhere. And they are tiny and winding and I put myself at risk of getting run over all the time whenever I step out. I had a dance class in the afternoon. It was a lot of fun, and there are actually six boys in the class. Which has to be almost half of the entire male population in the Center. Then I had my poli-sci class. The professor is a sweet guy, he was asking us all about Hillary Clinton. My host mother asked us about her the other day too. What is it with Hillary? Generating international buzz already. Oh Evan Byah, where are you? And apparently John Edwards is back in the race, but taking a more aggressive stance this time around. Seriously, it’s going to be some dark horse that pulls out either party’s nomination.
In other news, I got an email from Danielle today talking about censorship in Singapore and the restrictions on the free flow of information. It made me think a little bit about the media aspect of life here. Except….when I watch the news it is very hard for me to understand because unless there are politicians speaking (they speak slowly and with measure - bless their souls) the anchors speak quickly. I have always taken advantage of the ability to communicate. Here, it is more difficult to understand and be understood because I’m at a very low reading and speaking level, although reading is improving leaps and bounds. I don’t think twice at home about flipping on the TV to watch the news; here, so desperately I want to be able to understand and all I can do is watch the b-roll (oh News I). Also, now that I don’t have regular access to a TV or hard copy of a paper, when I can use the internet to check headlines I’m out of control.
One last note for tonight. The plaza near the Catedral where the dreaded bird poop incidence took place is quickly becoming my favorite spot, despite said incident. I always wind up back there when I’m walking around aimlessly and I’m lucky enough to get to pass it every day on my way to school. It’s very open and wide and is the intersection for the Giralda, Catedral, Museo Bellas Artes and the Alcazar. And the street that leads out to Menedez is really beautiful as well. But anyway, I just love the Catedral. I’m very fascinated by it, and when we went to Church there Sunday it was the first time in three days that I felt at home and at peace.
Anniversary
On this, the anniversary of my first day in Spain, here's the post that I never got around to adding:
February 1, 2007. Day one. Over. Actually, more like two days with the time change and our arrival time. There was some horrible turbulence. I really thought I had met my match at one point, especially during dinner. Choking down the chicken was hard enough without sea-sickness. At one point, the tray of drinks fell over onto a passenger. Pandemoniom erupted for a few minutes. It was kind of disconcerting to see the flight attendants get so upset.
After dinner, the lights went off for the in-flight movie, and I couldn’t get sound or lights overheard because our console was not working. So I tried to sleep. But this did not work, despite my best attempts. Approximately three hours after they served dinner they threw the lights on and breakfast was served. So at midnight, approximately 6am local time, I was eating a muffin. It was weird to say the least
When we got to Madrid it was about 7:30 in the morning but it was still dark. Also disconcerting. However, this fact was soon overlooked upon disembarking from the aircraft (related sidenote, the airline was working this whole bilingual thing for a while, and as we got closer and closer to Spain it kind of tapered off, which was hard to try to predict which language they were going to come at you with next). The airport in Madrid is a monument to modern, minimalist architechture. Also, the gates are very close to the ground, which necessitates an elaborate labrinyth of ramps and stairways. So we get off the aircraft, no one knows where we are supposed to go. We go through customs, down three sets of escalators, to a train station. Somewhere along this journey, some of us realize that we need to be at gate M, which the way to said gate is on the opposite side of the glass partition. But we can’t get there, so we are forced to board the train.
The train takes us to another station, where we must ascend more levels of escalators, only to walk around and descend more to another station. We board another train. This train, kid you not, takes us right back to where we needed to be, which if you recall was the other side of the glass partition at the starting point. No joke, this took a half-hour schlepping all of my bags in my coat. Plus I had basically pulled an all-nighter.
Anyway, we make it to M, but there is no posting for what gate number at terminal M we are supposed to be at. So some of us plopped down at the closet one, and turns out that was our gate! We had a great view, although the airplanes were blocking it, of a mountain range in the distance and some buildings off to the other side. With the sun coming up and reflecting off the mountains, it was gorgeous. As an aside, I would be really curious to see the layout of this airport. It was absolutely the most annoying way to travel, except they did really control the flow of traffic by sending you on circuitous routes.
Anyway, the flight to Seville was cramped and was mostly students from our program. Needless to say, we all slept. We got to Seville and were met by some staffers, who loaded us onto the bus and carted us off to the hotel. It was very disorienting to step off the plane and Spanish being thrown everywhere. It’s also been rough adjusting to it, because I’m tired and I can’t focus as much as I want to. Plus it catches me off guard – I’ve never had a need to use Spanish outside of the classroom so I’m afraid to use it. Couple that with the fact that I’m probably one of a handful of students who is not a Spanish major and minor here, and let me tell you, London was looking really good at about 4pm. But I realized that I just have to have confidence and I can’t let other people intimidate me, as much as I want to allow them to. I can speak this language, I wouldn’t have come here knowing I couldn’t. So I just have to do it and not be afraid to make a mistake.
The hotel they put us up at is pretty swanky, meals have been a fun time, and I might have found some kindred spirits with regard to my pacing of meals. Nice spreads all around, although I’m starting to feel like lard. Maybe tomorrow I can work some Pilates in. We’re getting up to take a placement exam, then moving into our home. My house is right near the Alcazar, Universidad de Sevilla, and the bus station. I’m pretty excited about this, and I think it could be within walking distance from school if I had a nice day.
I’ve met some nice people thus far, and met up with the Ithaca crew. It’s been good to have them here. The only downers so far have been the fact that my face wash leaked in my bag (I can hear my mother groaning 3000mi away) and the intense homesickness I felt when I was first left to my own devices. All I wanted to do was be back in Ithaca. However, I’m here, tomorrow is a big day, we’re hoping to hit the town this weekend, so things should pick up. I’m just hoping my maniac-depressive mood swings can hold off long enough for me to get through it.
February 1, 2007. Day one. Over. Actually, more like two days with the time change and our arrival time. There was some horrible turbulence. I really thought I had met my match at one point, especially during dinner. Choking down the chicken was hard enough without sea-sickness. At one point, the tray of drinks fell over onto a passenger. Pandemoniom erupted for a few minutes. It was kind of disconcerting to see the flight attendants get so upset.
After dinner, the lights went off for the in-flight movie, and I couldn’t get sound or lights overheard because our console was not working. So I tried to sleep. But this did not work, despite my best attempts. Approximately three hours after they served dinner they threw the lights on and breakfast was served. So at midnight, approximately 6am local time, I was eating a muffin. It was weird to say the least
When we got to Madrid it was about 7:30 in the morning but it was still dark. Also disconcerting. However, this fact was soon overlooked upon disembarking from the aircraft (related sidenote, the airline was working this whole bilingual thing for a while, and as we got closer and closer to Spain it kind of tapered off, which was hard to try to predict which language they were going to come at you with next). The airport in Madrid is a monument to modern, minimalist architechture. Also, the gates are very close to the ground, which necessitates an elaborate labrinyth of ramps and stairways. So we get off the aircraft, no one knows where we are supposed to go. We go through customs, down three sets of escalators, to a train station. Somewhere along this journey, some of us realize that we need to be at gate M, which the way to said gate is on the opposite side of the glass partition. But we can’t get there, so we are forced to board the train.
The train takes us to another station, where we must ascend more levels of escalators, only to walk around and descend more to another station. We board another train. This train, kid you not, takes us right back to where we needed to be, which if you recall was the other side of the glass partition at the starting point. No joke, this took a half-hour schlepping all of my bags in my coat. Plus I had basically pulled an all-nighter.
Anyway, we make it to M, but there is no posting for what gate number at terminal M we are supposed to be at. So some of us plopped down at the closet one, and turns out that was our gate! We had a great view, although the airplanes were blocking it, of a mountain range in the distance and some buildings off to the other side. With the sun coming up and reflecting off the mountains, it was gorgeous. As an aside, I would be really curious to see the layout of this airport. It was absolutely the most annoying way to travel, except they did really control the flow of traffic by sending you on circuitous routes.
Anyway, the flight to Seville was cramped and was mostly students from our program. Needless to say, we all slept. We got to Seville and were met by some staffers, who loaded us onto the bus and carted us off to the hotel. It was very disorienting to step off the plane and Spanish being thrown everywhere. It’s also been rough adjusting to it, because I’m tired and I can’t focus as much as I want to. Plus it catches me off guard – I’ve never had a need to use Spanish outside of the classroom so I’m afraid to use it. Couple that with the fact that I’m probably one of a handful of students who is not a Spanish major and minor here, and let me tell you, London was looking really good at about 4pm. But I realized that I just have to have confidence and I can’t let other people intimidate me, as much as I want to allow them to. I can speak this language, I wouldn’t have come here knowing I couldn’t. So I just have to do it and not be afraid to make a mistake.
The hotel they put us up at is pretty swanky, meals have been a fun time, and I might have found some kindred spirits with regard to my pacing of meals. Nice spreads all around, although I’m starting to feel like lard. Maybe tomorrow I can work some Pilates in. We’re getting up to take a placement exam, then moving into our home. My house is right near the Alcazar, Universidad de Sevilla, and the bus station. I’m pretty excited about this, and I think it could be within walking distance from school if I had a nice day.
I’ve met some nice people thus far, and met up with the Ithaca crew. It’s been good to have them here. The only downers so far have been the fact that my face wash leaked in my bag (I can hear my mother groaning 3000mi away) and the intense homesickness I felt when I was first left to my own devices. All I wanted to do was be back in Ithaca. However, I’m here, tomorrow is a big day, we’re hoping to hit the town this weekend, so things should pick up. I’m just hoping my maniac-depressive mood swings can hold off long enough for me to get through it.
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