wine, mcflurries, and pastries

after school thursday, diana and i go to supersol and get wine for later that night. 78 cents for a bottle. sold. we get two- one red, one white. they taste like water (but do the job). next time we splurge for a 2 euro bottle. in the checkout line behind us, there are guys buying 12 packs of supersol beer. they ring up as 3 euro. "damn. you guys are high maintenance."

that night the four of us roomies go out to joy, where a guy from renata, morgan, and brittany's dance class will get in the center cage and dance, and then get kicked out.

saturday renata, thomas, david and i go to Renia de Sofia - one of the many art museum's in Madrid, most notably famous for holding multiple works from Picasso (specifically: guernica). if you didn't know (because i didn't), picasso was spanish. and a lot of his art is a portrayal of the spanish civil war. more food for your brain: guernica is not a painting. it's a mural. the thing is huge - 11 x 26.5 ft. yeah. i saw it. it was kind of awesome. i would have snapped a photo but the nazis guarding were pretty aggressive in making sure we knew this was absolutely forbidden. and they were bigger than me.

after the museum we went to mcd's for lunch (i know, i know. we're in madrid. and we're going to mcdonald's. well guess what. i'm poor.). if this helps, i ordered a tolberone mcflurry - which are NOT provided in the US (but should be. what the hell obama. hook it up.) - or at least i tried to order it. the lady couldn't hear me so this little ten year old next to me with a mohawk spoke up and told her what i wanted. i look over at him. damn. "gracias..." [fyi: all the mcflurry's over here - no matter what kind - have hot fudge in them. jealous?]

for dinner that night - since cruella doesn't cook on saturdays - we roomies go to dinner. the place is called Canas y Tapas. Not really sure what "canas" are but tapas are basically appetizers. round of drinks = plate of free tapas. score. why don't bars do this in america? we order off the menu, even though we have no idea what we're getting. i end up with this pepper & potato (almost like french fries) dish. diana gets squid... which we think is not what she ordered.... brittany and morgan get croquettes, which are breaded balls filled with - most commonly - ham and cheese.

next we head towards school to meet up with friends to go to a bar. we talk about how we are craving sweets because all cruella gives us for dessert is yogurt or fruit (brittany : "i know! i mean, can i get a cookie?"). diana expresses her immense desire for a pastry. we stop in this one bar we see on the way. smaller, just some locals watching the futbol game, michael jackson playing on the jukebox. while there, diana leaves the bar to find a chinos to get a pastry. ....... i look at brittany and morgan. "did she really just leave the bar to go find a pastry? at 10:30 at night?" she did. in 15 minutes she was back. cheap, plastic wrapper pastry in hand. ...which was about the size of my head. we help her eat it. it did not satisfy.

we meet thomas, david and renata to go to a cheap bar by school. which was not letting anyone in. so we go to the golden cock. yet again. our group keeps growing. finally we decide we would rather dance and drink then sit and drink so we relocate to a place called iron bar. smaller, but equipped with a sufficient dance floor. i think we were the only americans there? we get there and one of the girls buys a round of tequila shots. eh... not my thing...... ok, just one. cheers, salt, bottoms up, lemons..... i look down. the lemon plate is empty. well this sucks. either this bartender can't count or someone is snacking on my lemon right now. my throat burns. i chase with my beer instead, a sad substitute. we dance. brittany and morgan try to teach me rhythm. the tequila shot i had teaches me the opposite. 4 am before we know it. time to go.

sunday. as you can see from the previous post, i did in fact make it to church the next day. no, i could not understand a word of it. no, they do not hold hands during the "our father." no, they do not have a closing hymn after "the celebration has ended" and we "go in peace." yes, my coat still wreaked of smoke from the bar the night before and the nice old ladies behind us probably thought i had not been to bed yet. but.... it was awesome. the church was beautiful. and even though i couldn't understand what the priest was saying, i still caught myself muttering "thanks be to God" and "amen" at the right cues. i am a catholic robot.

monday i get to school and order a cafe grande in the cafeteria. cruella's instant coffee tastes like water and dry coffee pebbles. oh wait.... the worker gives me my coffee and i spill all over the buffet glass. yep..... it's definitely monday. i help the worker clean it up and then head to the library... where i am told that i am not allowed to have coffee in the library. what? how am i supposed to study and stay alive? the next few days i practice sneaking it in. i have perfected a routine i like to call "hiding coffee cup under my coat without spilling while walking past library front desk." summer time i could have problems.

tuesday i wake up, get dressed yahda yahda. since all three of my roommates have morning class, i usually don't see too much of them before school. just me and cruella.... little a.m. bonding... actually. she's like me in the fact that we both are not morning talkers. at first i think this is good, but then i don't know how much i like the idea of us sharing similar characteristics. today she sees me and speaks. i catch a word i know. wait. ".....it snowed?!?!" aw, shit. not again. it's almost all melted by now, but it's freaking cold. i opt to take the metro instead of walking the 30 minutes to school. usually, i walk. as long as i get up before 1:30 pm, i have the time to. and it's a euro saved in my pocket. [whenever i hear change drop, i search frantically for the source, then dive.]

ok, ok. maybe i'm exaggerating on my money situation. i'm not poor. i have money. i just prefer not to use it on fancy meals or conveniences (such as a metro ride).

at dinner one night, we ask cruella when it will get warmer. she talks in circles, going through each month, but in the end telling us around march or april but it varies. thanks.

cathedral de la almudena

i went to church this morning. i got more than i bargained for. check it out. start at the bottom. i uploaded the pictures backwards. get over it.
















yeah... i was overwhelmed.

the icing on the cake

note to all blog readers: while skyping with my aunty karen, we have decided to formally install a code name for senora carmen. thereby, we will be able to audibly discuss her horrible hostess manners without her awareness. with little contemplation, the agreed upon name will be "cruella" (yes, as in cruella deville).

monday. my two classes go by slow. in anthropology we talk about culture. regional, national, and universal. she asks for an example of universal culture. ....lady gaga? the kid a couple seats down answers linguistics; we all have language. ....that answer is probably better.... the next slide on the powerpoint shows examples of typical stereotypes, including a red bandanna. our professor questions us, "what do you think when you see this?" "blood," a very strong voice comes from the side of the room (for your visual aid, the room is pretty small. every desk lines the walls of the square room around the teacher's desk - the worst nightmare of any kid that hates the front row). ...what the? blood? i was thinking like farmer or cowboy...

dinner: slices of tomato with some kind of cheese (sort of like cream cheese?) and avocado spread. delicious. and some soup. this week, she will make us fried sardines. ... the entire sardine minus the head. once i ripped the meat off the bones and got past the fact that, yes, i just ripped off a fish tail... it was pretty good i guess.

tuesday. i get to school and switch out of my art history into music theory. why? i'm going from a 300 level class of something i'll actually have to study into a 100 level class of something i've been doing since the 7th grade. all i need is a fine arts credit. make it count. (in class, we turn the lights off, close are eyes, and listen to some compositions. then we are asked how we feel and what we think of as we listen. jackpot.)

wednesday. for lunch we go to tienda verde - this little sandwich shop by school. 1. 30 euro for a sandwich. sold. we sit outside and eat while raphael (a knowledgeable young french gentleman who enjoys an expensive meal and likes to argue) tells us about the american store. he explains that the american store is not only a store with jars of marshmallow fluff and dryer sheets, but also bakes -and sells- cakes (and apparently teaches a class on how to bake cakes ....is it that hard?). he looks at me, "i know what you like. you're the kind of girl that likes tons of icing on her cake." ...how the hell do you know that? have you seen my family at a birthday party? the cake could file assault. for anyone not aware, we- my family- like icing. a lot. it's genetic, it's involuntary, it's dangerous. i don't even know why we bother making the cake. "you see, cakes in spain - they're just cake, no icing. " ...this is a problem. we make plans to buy a cake from the american store and share it between the two of us. while washing it down with some brews. in fact, raphael is so excited about it that we end up walking to the american store before my next class so he can show me.

for the walk, raphael's roommate- jorge- joins us. we go through the sequence of questions. a bell goes off in my head when he tells me he is a music major. i interrogate a little further and - bingo! he plays guitar, has two at his apartment, and is cool with me playing them. i make plans to come over after school that day. and the next day. and the next.

i look around. i know where i am. i know the people. i know the bars and restaurants. i know my classes and my teachers. i know "pavo" means turkey when i go to order a sandwich. i know what time cruella takes her nap and what time she feeds us dinner.

and then i realize....i love it here.

segovia & toledo

there are a sequence of questions you ask people when you meet them here.
1. what is your name (pretty standard)
2. where are you from
3. (if they are not from slu) what school are you from
4. what is your major
5. are you going out tonight

....that's it. basically, the subtext of these questions: what do we -or what do we not- have in common. even if this someone you're meeting is someone you never plan on talking to again, you ask these. this is programmed in my head. so much that i don't even really hear answers any more. the point? i'm not really sure.

walking to the social friday night, i meet a girl. emily. from southern il (not columbia). ....yeah, see i can't really remember anything else. except this: she goes boating -often- with her friends who own a boat in boulder yaht club. what the hell? we basically grew up in the same marina and we meet each other across the atlantic? blew my mind.

saturday morning, diana and i get up and leave to meet the bus for segovia. the bus leaves and 9am. we get there at 8:55. i look around. ...where's renata? i knew she didn't go out last night. she should be here. i get out my really cool and technologically savvy cell phone i bought from the school (hey, you can even text on this thing. that's more than i had ever hoped) - which now has about 7 numbers in it. oh, the simple life.

she answers. "hello?"
"where the hell are you."
"oh my god i forgot to wake up! i'll be there in 5." and she was.

Segoviathe view of the guadarrama mountains from segovia. the children call it the "dead lady." do you see her laying on top? i tried to zoom in... her name? the kids named her snow white. really? be original. please.

The old city is spectacularly situated atop a long, narrow promontory. In it includes the cathedral, a famous ancient roman aqueduct, the alcazar, and various churches built in the Romanesque style including San Esteban, San Martín, and San Millán. The old city is a world heritage site and is surrounded by walls built in the 8th century AD, probably on a Roman base, and rebuilt extensively during the 21st century.

the aqueduct is the most recognized and famous symbol of Segovia. It was built at the end of 1st to early 2nd century AD by the Romans to bring water from the Río Frío (Cold River), about 18 km away, to the city.

the alcazar of segovia is one of the most distinctive castle-palaces in Spain by virtue of its shape - like the bow of a ship. The alcazar was originally built as a fortress but has served as a royal palace, a state prison, a royal artillery college and a military academy since then. a bunch of kings lived there. and it was freezing inside. imagine what the inside of a castle looks like. that's what it looks like. regardless, i have a bunch of pictures.

(p.s. mom, dad, if you're thinking "wow she's really learning and appreciating all of this history!" no. i'm using wikipedia to label everything i took pictures of. the tour guides had thick accents and smelled weird.)

Segovia Cathedral is located in the main square of the city, the Plaza Mayor. It is dedicated to the virgin mary. The Cathedral of Segovia is one of the late Gothic cathedrals of Spain and Europe, built in the sixteenth century (1525-1577), when most of Europe was spreading of Renaissance architecture. we were going to go in when we had free time, but it cost 3 euro. that's 6 beers from supersol... yeah. we have high priorities.

and basically that's segovia. or at least what struck me as most significant.

we debate what souvenir to get. what small trinket will i get to represent my being in this place of majesty and beauty? what will be my gateway to memories full of travel bliss? actually, in all honesty, if i could rewind i probably wouldn't have signed up and paid 20 euro for this trip. i had fun, but it was pretty dry. this is a personal opinion. if your thing is old towns, castles, and roman ruins that bring water from the mountains - this is your kingdom.

i ponder with my friends what to get. post cards? nah. i have my own pictures to look at... or google images. shot glasses? i see a sweet shot glass with the cathedral on it. ...that's sort of....illogical. i want it. but i start to picture opening my suit case when i get home and finding 27 souvenir shot glasses in pieces. "what about lighters?" thomas asks. ....we're sort of on a trend here of souvenir's supporting bad habits, aren't we? shot glasses, lighters... what's next? prison shanks? condoms painted with the aqueducts?

in the end i decide on pins. cheap, straight forward, and soon my backpack will look like europe threw up on it. ... or like i work at tgi fridays.

Toledo

toledo was declared a world heritage site in 1986 for its extensive cultural and monumental heritage as one of the former capitals of the spanish empire and place of coexistence of christian, jewish, and moorish cultures.

The cathedral of toledo was built between 1226-1493, and is the second biggest church in spain. It is remarkable for its incorporation of light and features the baroque altar called el transparente, several stories high, with fantastic figures of stucco, paintings, bronze castings, and multiple colors of marble, and much more. it's probably - to this day at least- the most incredible thing i've ever seen. inside we were not allowed to take pictures but google it. it's amazing. diana's theology teacher told her that their field trip to toledo was the closest thing they would get to jerusalem. i now know why.

renata became our tour guide through the
entire church (thanks to her travel book, which depicts all the major cities and sitings in spain in a very honest but cynical way - for example, comparing us to pez dispensers as we stare up at the incredible painted ceilings). we went from sculpture, to painting, to room to room with our eyes taking in the view while renata's head was in a book whispering to us the meaning of what we were looking at.

it was a really cool city, beautiful country side. but after the cathedral, everything else we saw there diminished. i found my pin and we hit the road.

friday

the next day i get up at 9 am because i'm scared to sleep in. 5 hours of sleep? average for a college student? carmen gets up before diana and i escape but she does not say anything about the night before (as in, us coming home late, us being too loud - which was pretty much impossible- , etc). ...did we do it? did we appease the beast? seems so. relief goes through my entire body. maybe i can make it a semester here...

brittany and morgan have class on fridays, but diana and i are free as birds. we head out to explore the town. we head down princesa, searching for a coffee shop that is both inexpensive and wifi equipped. we end up at the palacio real de madrid.


according to wiki, the palacio real de madrid (royal palace of madrid), is the official residence of the king of spain in the city of madrid and it is only used for state ceremonies. with an area of 135000 m2, it is the biggest palace in europe. basically, the place is huge. one day we'll take a tour. why we didn't today, beyond me. next we venture on some side streets til we hit sol. sol in the daylight. a different place. we go in and out of shops, i hunt for retro sneakers. there are artists and performers in the street. as we walk down, i see a freaky puppet box playing a guitar across the street. i realize it's a man crouched inside. holy crap....that's messed up. i stop to take a picture. right after i snap a shot, the puppet stops playing the guitar, his arm stretches out and the puppet gives me the middle finger. i scream. i ask diana if she saw that. if i wasn't all the way across the street already, i would've been running. as we hurriedly walk away, i look back over my should probably 12 times. i don't know why i was so freaked out. maybe because this puppet is so messed up looking....

we come back for carmen to make us lunch (her justification for not making us dinner on saturdays). then she gives us back some of our clean laundry. i pick through and find my things. i see one sock, but not it's partner. ...where's my sock at? i look through my dirty laundry. are you in here? nope. if you don't understand why i'm so worried, it's because everything i have here- everything i brought- is a number. i have limited supply of possesions, therefore all become ten times more important. including socks. i go to carmen. "uh.. only...uno?" i say, holding the sock up. "ah, si, si," she takes me to the window and pulls back the curtain, where i can see my other sock still hanging on the line. a lone solider.. alright as long as you didn't loose it.

tonight we are going to the friday night social sponsored by slu. ...i usually don't do this kind of thing. i'm not very school spirited, i'm not really into the organized activity thing (which according to college and job applications makes me an inadequate "team player" -- hence my management degree....i'm not a team player, i'm the coach). i do my own thing. when we talk to friends who are going, i reluctantly oblige while expressing my opinion that school organized socials are for people that don't have friends. the event is going to a tapas bar- basically appetizers and drinks. i'm going for the drinks.

brittany and morgan are meeting us at the school for the social. diana and i head to school early because we want to stop and buy shoes along the way. check it >>
(next week at school, a friend will compliment my new kicks. i tell him that i'm pretty sure wearing these shoes in this culture means i'm either in junior high or a dyke. whatever. i love them.)

diana gets new boots.

we get to school an hour early. we starving already. ...what do we do? we head to the supersol to get baugettes while we wait. i head to the beer aisle. 50 cent cans of sanmiguel beer. bingo. diana and i grab two each. two beers + baguette = 1.30 euro. sitting on a bench in the entrance of supersol drinking beer and eating stale baguettes in downtown madrid for less than two euro = priceless. "i feel like we'll be doing this again, " i tell diana. as we are sitting there, a family - a young couple with a little girl around 2 - leaving the supersol passes by. the little girl comes up to us, "como se llama?" i smile. i can't help but imagine back home, a little kid coming up to you and asking "what's your name?" "me llamo nicole," i tell her. diana and i ask her name, which i forgot, and converse a little more - or try - before the family walks away. "adios!" ...i wonder what the family was thinking when their little girl walked up to two strangers drinking beer on a bench in the entrance to supersol. classy.

we meet up with the group to go to the tapas bar. there ends up being about 40 of us all together, which - according to the group leaders - is 40 more than they expected. i'm just as surprised as you are. the place we go to is pretty cool. we have to split the group up because we all won't fit at one place. renata, diana, and i - and a solemn but peculiar character - end up at one bar while brittany and morgan end up at another. our group leader orders for our entire clan: pitchers of sangria and two dishes of tapas. the first round were small fried potatoes - sort of like french fry wedges - that had a hot sauce on them. the next were slices of baguette with different toppings on each (i devoured both mushroom. yummy.). after the social, diana and i went home. segovia was in the morning.

the disco teca

wednesday i don't have class until 2:30 pm. dream come true, right? the first week, i'm still having trouble sleeping at night. i wake up at 1pm wednesday, walk out into the hallway and see carmen.

"hola"

she looks up at me (...that's not a good look...) and starts talking at me through broken english about how i need to leave the house before this time. ....what. "lo siento," i say and scurry past her into the bathroom. oh crap, i have to get out of here NOW. i wash my face and brush my teeth and head back into my room, where carmen is already starting to clean. what do you need to do in here? you just cleaned in here yesterday, reorganized my stuff, changed the temperature on my alarm clock back to celsius option -- even when i changed it back to fahrenheit the day before...and the day before that -- and my favorite pen is gone!! seriously, what do you need in here?

at home, my parents probably come into my room on monthly intervals and don't go through my stuff when i'm not home (and if they do, they're smart enough to be sneaky about it). she walks out and i close the door and get dressed. i'm in such a hurry i don't even put my contacts in, and i run out without saying goodbye. or adios. whatever. senora? more like satan...

my 2:30 ends up being canceled until next week. so i don't have class until 4. great. now what? i eat lunch in the cafeteria and mess on the computer in the lab until my class. sociology: introduction to anthropology. my teacher is american, she has lived on and off in madrid the past 5 previous years, this is her first semester at slu (my guess is this is her first class here also). she seems pretty cool. in the middle of class, she asks if anyone is from southern IL or has been there. try 20 years. she asks if anyone has been to cahokia mounds, and to my surprise, i'm not the only one that raises my hand. after class, i bond with my teacher about the mounds and the witches that go up there on summer solstice.

day one of class in a foreign country for the first time ever = success. ..now what do i do? dinner is not until 8:15. i have 3 hours. no way am i going home right now. i head to the Supersol, a supermarket, up the street to by shampoo. while there, i see friends, also buying shampoo. i smell the different kinds, but everything smells like aloe or men's cologne (except the chocolate scented shower gel, which i opted not to buy because it smelled delicious and the bottle looked to much like chocolate syrup -- would could lead to a hazardous accident). i go for the cheapest stuff they have. this is no time to be picky.

after we buy our shampoo, i look at my watch. almost 6... too soon. "do you guys.... want to go to golden cock? i really don't want to go home... " i explain my senora situation. but they don't need an excuse to go, they would accept either way. we get a pitcher of sanmiguel and sit down. david gets one of those asain looking toy cats out of a bag (the ones that sit up and swing one arm at you) and puts it on the table. it's about the size of my head.

i stare at it. "...what... is that...?"

"cat. needs batteries."

"...why did you buy that...?"

he explains. but i still really don't get it.

"you should take that to bars with you and have people take pictures with it." two nights later, he does precisely that.

7 pm.... i should catch the metro home. i definitely don't want to be late for dinner. we pay and leave.


at home. i walk in, look down the hallway. all my roommates are hiding in their rooms with the doors shut. well... at least the feelings mutual about senora... i knock on diana's door and i explain what happened that morning.... or afternoon? ..and we talk about how we scary she is. brittany comes in and joins. i mention talking to student life. is it too soon to try to get out of here? find a new senora?

dinner is ... same as usual. carmen serves us and watches. we try to talk to her, but usually end up just talking to each other. despite everything about her, carmen is a pretty good cook. tonight, she makes us this pizza that has tomato sauce, ham, tuna ..mozzarella? ..cheese, and black olives - in that order (mo, you'll love it). this is something i will probably make every other day when i come home. sooo good. "me gusta muchoooo," i tell her. she probably thinks i'm sucking up. ...maybe i am.

next morning i leave early. it's been 4 days and i'm leaving early and coming home late. with motivation from talking to shari the night before, i go to housing. i explain the problems and the woman in charge is concerned and agrees that carmen is being a little ridiculous. she tells me as of now, there is no where else for me to go. she asks if i would like her to talk to carmen. "NO!! no, no. i'm pretty sure that would just create a more hostile environment." she says ok and tells me to come back after the weekend and tell her how it went. if it was truly miserable, they'd find some where for me to go. i think about this weekend. absolutely i'm going out... i have yet to experience the night life, whereas the other kids here have been going out the entire week- and their senoras promote it! ...carmen might kill us this weekend...

i have my art history class with diana. which has a final project that i really not thrilled about putting an effort into. switch out? next is philosophy, which i know some kids in as well. a friend sits next to me and starts to drift off, and i feel bad when i start to argue with the teacher, calling attention to us. i'm sorry, but i'm not a fan of philosophy. yeah morality is important and everyone should be nice to everyone. but you get in depth about what that means and you just go in circles. drives. me. nuts.

today is thursday. one of the biggest going out nights in madrid (just like every other day ending in "y"). i talk to kids at school, and everyone is going to club joy -- basically assumed, a night club that caters to the americans in madrid (aka slu). seriously, student life has advertising in their office for this club. and thursday nights, it's free cover charge. CHINGG!!

dinner: amazing rice with cheese that has apples, oranges, and ... crap. i forgot the other fruit. it was SO good. my mouth is watering thinking about it right now. then salad and some chicken. she fed us more than usually. i wonder if it's because she knows tonight is a going out night...

brittany and morgan have morning class so me and diana head out alone the catch the metro to sol, where club joy is. we meet renata and head down the strip. every where you walk, people are coming up trying to convince you to go to their "disco teca," offering a free drink if you come in. we know it's early for joy and people won't get there until 1, so we go to another bar first before heading there.


at joy, bouncers check our ids to make sure we are 18 and up. they wear suits and look very intense, but i think it's an act. inside the club is pretty awesome (see picture). the theme for thursdays is "thursday night fever." set up like a disco and playing all 80s-90s (and some new) american music - which i also here in grocery stores, bars, chinos... everywhere. [saturday on the bus to segovia, i hear someone ask, "does anyone know any clubs that play spanish music??" i laugh out loud].

we get drinks and me and diana talk to friends while renata goes nuts on the dance floor, showing off what she learned in latin rythms and the salsa she knows. i join her after a while. one things about dance clubs -- i need room to dance. i hate it when a club is so crowded that you're touching 8 people at the same time. how am i supposed to dance like that? don't touch me, i don't know you. so i dance with renata and friends until it gets too crowded for my taste. diana and i talk with some spanish but english speaking guys. one asks me what i'm drinking and sort of nudges my glass before i can look down and see what he did. damn it. that was half full. i tell diana i'm going to the bathroom, where i throw my drink in the toilet.

when i return, diana is... well, a lot friendlier with the spaniard that i was ever expecting to see out of the girl. whoa! i thought this girl was conservative! haha! after awhile -and some pictures which i privately emailed to her the next day, i pull the two apart. she'll thank me later. and she did.

about 15 minutes later, diana has realized she lost her phone and keys. oh...shit... when carmen gave us our keys, she made it very clear that the one to the apartment building was a HUGE problem if we lost it - that it (for some reason) could not be copied in madrid. yep.... we're going to die. tomorrow to be exact. better write my loved ones a goodbye letter when we get home. we search over the ground (although it's very crowded now), ask the bartender, etc. ...where is that piece of shit spaniard... we spot him and diana fights the crowd to confront him, returning with nothing.

"well... let me buy you a drink," i say to diana. since we're dead tomorrow, might as well have fun tonight, right? "i don't think that's a good idea!" renata says. i have yet to see renata drink more than a few sips of alcohol, yet she's crazier than all of us combined. it's sort of refreshing. i ask her about it, and she just explains to me that she gets crazy when she drinks. girl, you're already crazy. you get any more crazy you're heads going to spin like the freaking exorcist.

so instead, i buy myself a drink. or try to. a guy from at the bar hands me his free drink ticket, explaining he has an "in" there and has tons of them. alright i won't argue.. but that doesn't mean you have an "in" with me. i talk to him for a minute then end up talking to a spaniard - or what i think is one, he was actually born in CA, but he is definitely spanish - about why he voted for mccain. seriously? it's because he has money.

diana finds me and exclaims that the coat check had her keys!!! the rock in my stomach drops. but still no phone... weird... at least we don't have to worry about carmen. and our lives.

by that time. the club is full. about 60% is kids from slu. it was a blast. but since i wasn't dancing, i was starting to get bored. and it was starting to get late(for this american anyway, early for everyone else). we make sure renata finds friends to take a cab back with - metros close at 1:30. it was 3. for people that live far, it was cab or the night bus. for me and diana, it was a 10 minute walk home. for free. on the way home, we stop at a chinos and get pringles for the road. the first time eating junk food since home. almost forgot how being bad can be so good. as we munch, we strategize how to enter the apartment without waking carmen. ...ok, take shoes off before we open the front door. do not close the squeaky bathroom door that is right next to her room. do not flush the toilet. do not breath.

we get home, follow the plan, and go to bed, hoping tomorrow we won't be in trouble.

this is definitely not home

monday morning, up for orientation. woke up throughout the middle of the night. my body is confused. in the kitchen, carmen has breakfast set out for us: a bag of oats and dried fruit mix and mini muffins. to drink: tea or instant coffee. instant coffee. ....instant...... coffee.... if you do not know, i'm a coffee addict. i drink it black. i drink it often. i drink it in large amounts. my roommates and i at home make 2-3 pots a day on average. i look at the mugs. they probably hold as much as a table spoon. i thought people drank coffee here? as i reluctantly put my "mini- mug" of water in the microwave and wait to mix in the instant mix, i shove down a mini muffin. later, i learn there's a starbucks a block away. and every block after that. i am rejuvenated.

carmen is not awake and does not wake before my roommates and i leave. we head out an hour before orientation starts. i snap pictures of the snow on the way to the bus stop, and then slip and fall right on my ass. cool. at the bus stop we try to remember what carmen told us about the routes, but really have no clue what the hell she was talking about. we pay a euro and get on circular 1 (which was actually right), but little did we know we got off about 5 stops too early. ....where are we? we wonder in moncloa (area north of home) for a little while and then diana attempts to ask a passerby, who next asks a taxi driver, and points us to the right. we walk down that street for quarter of a mile. ...where are we? we walk the way we think is right. ...is this right? diana tries to ask two boys walking by where avenida de valle is [the street our school is on]. they don't know. we look around at each other. what the hell do we do? we don't have phones, we don't have wireless at the house to search it, no one knows where this place is, we don't speak spanish well enough to get help, we don't know where we are.... we walk up to the next street. it's avenida de valle. ....we knew that. and only 10 minutes late. fashionably.

the four of us all have different orientation groups, so we split. i know a few girls i met on the flight, including renata, are supposed to be in my group but i don't see any of them yet. a cute guy let's me go in line before him and i introduce myself. he says his name, then silence. welp... i guess that's that. i head to the front of the class and sit down and talk to some girls sitting there. our group leader starts passing out our student ids, insurance cards, student guide, etc.

my ears catch my name from the back. a small voice says, "nicki? ...where's nicki?" and then i hear, "NICKIIII????" i look back and see renata sitting in the back row neck stretched, eagerly searching for me. i call back to her and she smiles and waves excitedly. hahaa what a nut.. i like this girl. a school counselor talks to us about culture shock and then the group gets up to rotate to the next room. i reunite with renata and the girls from the flight. we ask how each other's senoras are, how our roommates are, what we had for dinner, talked about how our beds are like sleeping on cardboard with a napkin for a blanket...

the next room we watch a warning video about pickpocket-ers and partying, which was made by students so was actually pretty entertaining. ariadne, the dean of students, tells us about the emergency phone the faculty has on at all times and takes turn taking home at night. she explains what is and is not considered an emergency, explaining that a student has called her at 3 am asking how to say "ranch dressing" in spanish. hahaha.... how do you say ranch dressing in spanish? sounds kind of important... although the dean of students, she seemed to find a lot of humor out of the incident.

our group moves on to student life, campus ministry, sports coordinator, student government, the neighborhood tour.... blahblahblah. on the neighborhood tour, our tour guide lead (an attending student), shows us the essentials-- metro, post office, supermarket, etc. we pass the golden cock (..interesting name..), "this is where people go to drink in between classes." the next day i saw students going in there at 11 am. someone asks where the cheapest school supplies are, "go to a chino. they're just little hole in the wall stores just jam packed full of shit. they're not actually called chinos, but we call them that because that's who usually run them. really cheap." it's true. they have everything from silverware to towels to 1 euro bottles of wine to slippers. i haven't seen one bigger than the size of my room. and he's right. it's all asians at the checkout counter.

we went back to campus, bought phones, and signed up for day trips. segovia saturday, toledo sunday. my roommates and i talked to the IT support and got our wireless running. after a long day, we started back home. and this time, we knew the way.

now relaxed, we started to actually look at what was around us. the shops, restaurants, businesses. there are a lot of musician street performers. i snapped a photo of my favorite. i'm sure their all thinking, stupid american, taking pictures of all this dumb crap. i finally know what it feels like to be one the other side, to not know the language well, to be in a different country, to realize they don't understand me when i speak, to take pictures of dumb crap-- just like the asians on our campus in stl. do i now feel sympathy for them? ...no. this isn't my home, i'm not trying to fit in here. i'm trying to experience it while it lasts.

for dinner, carmen makes some weird thing that's kind of like a toasted ravioli but not, this bland pasta, salad, and banana yogurt for dessert. i've liked everything she's made us so far, which must mean i'm already maturing. but. you knew that was coming right? but. a lot of the food is drenched in oil. the vegetables, the salad, the pasta. i try not to look at it when i eat. after dinner i give carmen my school schedule and my new phone number. she, in turn, gives me hers. alphabetically, her number fits right underneath caitlin, a girl i met at school. i say a prayer i don't ever accidentally confuse the two and drunk dial carmen one night.

that night, diana and i decide to go to golden cock after dinner. renata and a lot of the people we've been friending are going up there around 10:30. we don't know if we are supposed to tell carmen or not. it wasn't in the rules. but is it rude not to? we did choose independent over family environment on the application. carmen is in the kitchen when we leave so we peek in and say adios. carmen smiles and says something. ...all her smiles are starting to look really ...forced? we take the metro for the first time (we've been hiking the mile and 1/2 to school the past 2 days) and find it's pretty easy. except we don't know where we are when we get off the metro. we know we are in the right neighborhood. but it takes us about a half hour and a few circles around the block to find the golden cock. being lost is exhausting. especially because you walk all over creation trying to figure out where you are. i think i've been lost at least once a day since i've been here. but despite the extra leg work, every where i get lost becomes something i'm now familiar with. every time i get lost my mental map grows by like 28%.

godlen cock is good. i heard beer sucked here but i order a SanMiguel and really like it. it's a light beer, but has more flavor than budlight. maybe a sweeter taste? idk, but yummy. i try sangria. tastes like jungle juice to me. every time we order a round or a pitcher, the owner brings out a free plate of appetizers to us. when me and diana got there, they had already gone through homemade potato chips, pork/bacon...chunks? (crispy, kind of crumble in your mouth, sam would love them), and little slices of baguette with tomato spread on them. as we socialize, a spaniard creeper moves slowly our way. his name is miguel (he says). he talks with us a little, then tries to tell the girls he can do magic tricks. "what kind?" "with cards." we tell him to show us but he has no cards. renata calls for the owner, "antonio!!!!" but they don't have any. he looks at one of the girls sitting with us and asks, "are you bored?" she says no. but he keeps asking her why she's bored. then he keeps asking the group what we are doing. we tell him that this is what we are doing. drinking. at a bar. with friends. finally he leaves. the next day, one of the guys swears he see "miguel"'s picture on an orientation slide. i look up at it. ...no.

the next day after orientation, carmen knocks on my door. through broken english, she tells me that i was too loud last night coming home. "lo siento," i say. ...how? i took my shoes of before i walked in so i wouldn't make noise... i used the bathroom, then went to bed.... i don't get it. apparently she tells the same thing to diana, and also brittany-- who didn't go out , but used the bathroom in the middle of the night. ....uh oh. things are not looking up in the senora department.



...this post is boring. more later.

hello what do you want

"hola?"

"carmen?"

"quieres?"

.... now to my understanding, "quieres" translates to "what do you want." ....hola, quieres.... hello, what do you want... i stand there silent. what do i say? um, hello, i live here? hello, i'm your temporary responsibility for the next 4 months? meanwhile, as i'm quiet and dumbfounded, carmen buzzes me into the building. i see her down the hall and make my way towards where she stands by her door.

"hola." she kisses both my cheeks. i smile to myself. yep, just like in the movies. we walk and she starts talking to me. in spanish. oh no. "uh...." "halbas espanol?" "uh, un poco" for some reason she thinks "a little" means i am fluent in spanish, and continues to talk to me like i'm a regular. finally after a few more "uh.."'s out of me, she asks "no halbas espanol?" and i just agree.

she sighs.

contrary to what her biography said on her profile on the housing website, she knows very little english. this is going to be fun.

she walks me in and offers me agua. i accept. i listen for others in the apartment. no sounds. not a good sign. carmen asks me where my roommates are and points to their names on a sheet of paper, along side my own. yep, definitely not a good sign. where the hell are they? i try to make small talk with carmen. i give her my gift (i guess sort of like a home-coming, showing my gratitude sort of gift) recommended by the student guide on the madrid university website; supposed to be a good ice breaker. it is not. i opted to get her a necklace at the st. louis airport gift shop, where mom and i concluded that she has probably gotten many tourist-y gifts over the past years of hosting belligerent american college students (this is confirmed later, when i notice the texas coasters at dinner). she opens it, smiles, but does not put it on. ....damn it, should have went with the st. louis skyline refrigerator magnet.

after my first failed attempt to get my new host senora to like me, i head to my room to unpack. which doesn't take as long as i hope. roommates still not there. carmen shows me how to work the shower and gives me my key. stilllllll no roommates. i try to dial into the wireless network in a failed attempt to reconnect with the only world i know. no dice. did i mention, it's freezing outside? carmen takes me out to the front door to show me how to use my key. we walk outside and it is snowing. what. the. hell. msn.com told me it was going to be 45 degrees here. i was looking forward to escaping the soggy pant legs and frozen hair that was in st. louis. today is not my day.

carmen shows me how to use my key in a way that will not make any sound at all. we practice. i start to realize how anal she is. we go back inside. i decide to take a shower since i really can't do much else. i start to freak out that my roommates' flights are delayed or that they are dead. after that, i try again to connect to the wireless. nothing.

BUZZZZZ.

the buzzer. oh my god. thank you. i hear carmen answer it. "hola?" (she does not say quieres afterwards) and buzzes them in. i stand in my doorway ready to pounce as i hear them coming down the hall. in comes brittany and morgan, both from st. louis. brittany goes to loyola in chicago; morgan goes to univeristy arkansas. their flight was delayed in london (apparently british airways was going on strike?). they lost their luggage, which will be delivered when found. they are slightly better at communicating with carmen. once they unpack what little they do have, we try to figure out the wireless together, but still are unable to connect. my stomach joins in our conversation (i haven't eaten since breakfast on the plane) and the girls fearfully offer me peanut butter crackers. i decline and shush my stomach. i refuse to be weak!! i text sam and dad to tell them i'm alive, and to sing it from the mountain tops.

about 30 minutes later, diana comes, our last roommate. from pennsylvania, attends university of virgina. i'm the only one from SLU. cool with me. i creepily sit in diana's room and watch her unpack. there is a slip in her suitcase informing her that airport security went through her bag. she digs to find the shampoo bottles were unwrapped and had opened, oozing shampoo on her clothes.

ok.... compared to my roommates, i don't have problems.

carmen gathers us to go over the rules of the house, which are typed (english on one side, spanish on the flip) and laminated. ...see what i said about the anal? she reads off the rules in spanish and i try to follow along, but the woman is speedy gonzales which the spanish speaking. we start to absentmindedly say "si" after everything she says and are caught when she asks us questions. one thing i notice: there are specific ways we are to leave our doors when home and not home, ways to leave the bathroom door when after use and after showering, and the kitchen door must be closed at all times. she shows us how to open and close the house doors without making any noise. ....let me repeat myself, see what i said about the anal? she gives the girls their keys and offers them key chains to choose from. there is an extra key chain, but she does not hand it to me. i'll clarify. everyone has a key chain except me. this may seem like a careless mistake, sure. but to me, that key chain is a significant symbol of my acceptance by the senora. ...i will get that key chain.

we go over dinner times. breakfast until 11. dinner at 8:15-8:30 on week days. lunch on fridays at 1:15. only breakfast on saturday. dinner at nine on sunday. i look at my watch; 40 minutes til nine. my stomach argues.

at nine, carmen calls us to dinner. we walk into the kitchen and sit at the table. soup is awaiting us. i try to control myself so i don't look like i'm the definition of world hunger. it is a chicken broth with noodles. nothing too exotic. next she serves us a tomato, cucumber, green pepper mix (which i fall in love with) with egg (sort of a scrambled) with melted cheese. for dessert, strawberry yogurt. smaller portions but, delicious, nutritious, i'm happy. during dinner carmen watches us eat. at one point she walks over to brittany and pulls her hair back behind her shoulders, which she also repeats the next night.

diana is the best at spanish out of the four of us (or at least the most willing). she is sort of our interpreter and communicator when the rest of us are insufficient. we talk to carmen about our brothers, sisters, and pets. when trying to explain i have a twin sister to carmen, i curve my arm over an imaginary belly with one hand and use the other to make the number "2" inside of it. i hope to myself carmen doesn't think i'm telling her i'm pregnant. i try to follow when carmen is telling us about what i assume is the bus stop. then i here diana, "ah, donde(where)?" and carmen answers. then daina asks, "cuando(when)?"

before i know it. we are getting our shoes and coats on. diana explains that carmen is taking us to the bus stop. .....now? i'm living with a crazy lady. it's 9:30 at night, there is already snow covering the ground, i've slept 7 hours in the past 72, and the university tells us to take the metro- not the bus ....but i'm not about to argue (key chain is mine). we head outside. besides the fact that it was probably one of the most awkward, uncomfortable moments in my life, it was beautiful. the snow and the city lights, i regret not taking my camera. we walk down the block to the bus stop and carmen tries to explain to us what routes to take. we don't fully understand, but we say "si, si" because we are frozen and want to get back home to our beds. as we walk back, a kid bites the dust on his bike in front of us. guess they aren't aware that snow is slippery (the next day at orientation, a counselor tells us that this is the most snow she's seen in the 16 years she been here-- in fact the other univeristy counselor was snowed in and couldn't make it. ... it's about 5 inches of snow).

<

we get back to the apartment and carmen takes our picture off the outside hallway railing of the apartment building with the snow in the back ground. then she hands the camera to diana to have diana take a picture of her also. .....coocoo?

i pass out in my bed.



is this real?

welcome to madrid

oh... dear... god... where the hell am i?

rewind. back to the airport.
1. st. louis. check bags. target: 50 pounds. actual: 47 pounds. niiiice.

2. fly to chicago. sit next to a man with one of those electronic book things from amazon. which he went on to explain how awesome they were to me. he is an aircraft manufacturer? maintenance something? and works for a company in israel, who - he informs me - are very difficult people to work for. hey buddy, it's your job not mine. he previously lived in seattle, currently lives in new york. he pats my shoulder as i am queasy and tense during take off and landing. he has 10 minutes to run across o' hare airport to reach his flight to new york when we get to chicago. good luck with that.

3. meet andrew, student on my chicago flight also going to madrid. he says we need to go to the international terminal in o' hare, so i follow, even though i know we do not. hey, we've got 5 hours before the next flight, i'll humor the kid. so we make a complete circle and dance around o' hares and then make it back to the right gate.



ok enough with the numbering. i look around the gate, searching for potential slu madrid students. i ask to no one really but essentially anyone "is anyone leaving to study abroad in madrid?" steps up (sluggishly): jake, who was also on the chicago flight andrew and i were on. andrew and i talk to him and learn this is actually his second semester and at the madrid campus and upon receiving this piece of information, continue to aggressively interrogate him. what we find out: madrid is awesome.

yahda yahda yahda. more kids start arriving. a group of girls are sitting by and i go up and ask the question i already know the answer to. yes, they're going to madrid. introductions. small talk. i try to seek out my potential roommates. renata, a girl bubbling with excitement who thinks the cashier at the o'hare mcdonald's is joking when he says her water will cost eleven cents (the water which she later spills), says that her senora is also carmen. we hoot in excitement until we realize that we in fact do not live with the same "carmen." damn.


gate k19 is loud and crowded with madrid bound college kids. jake comments that he feels bad for anyone flying to madrid that is not apart of the slu madrid group flight. i look around the gate, "...yeah, like that asian family over there?" yeah. them. i look at my ticket and find the seat assignment. Row 14, seat G. i ask the people around me where they are assigned to sit. Everyone is sitting in rows in the late twenties. "crap, i'm sitting with the asian family." time to board.

enter plane. immediately stewardess' are speaking spanish at me. any hope i had of myself being eased into this, gone. ....hola? i work towards my seat, which already has a passenger sitting in it. aww hell no. this is my parade and you're in the way. i ask -politely- if the seat she was sitting in was 14G. she says that it is. i inform her -politely- that i am sitting there. she shows me her ticket, which says "14G." ........what. i find a spainsh stewardess. help. i look at jake and he says that the same thing happened to him. we both flew from st. louis..... connection? i wonder if andrew has the same problem. about five minuntes later, we are seated. i am not sitting close to anyone i had just befriended, but i am also not sitting with the asian family. nyquil, ipod, interesting meals (should have taken a picture), too intimidated to even try to speak spanish to the stewardess' (even when they ask me "chicken or beef" and i "quiero el pollo por favor"), sleep, sweat my ass off on the plane because i wore 8 eight layers of clothes that wouldn't fit in my suit case.

arrive madrid.

follow the crowd through customs and baggage. slu madrid people help us get cabs. still no roommates found. i get in the taxi alone. before the taxi even leaves the airport he pulls over and searches my senora's address in his book. which he can't find. he doesn't know where i live. he talks to me in spanish and signs with his hands. ....what? "no hablo espanol" so he gets out and talks with other taxi drivers. and none of them know where i live either. does this place exist? i get kicked out of my taxi and go back inside the airport hoping slu people are still there. they are. and find a taxi with gps who can locate my address. ......ok.

in the taxi. silence. am talk station is on. not that i can understand it. i sneeze. he mumbles something. when we finally get off the highway and into the city i finally get the balls to speak. "hablas ingles?" "que?" screw it. "do you speak english?" "only a little but not very much." well.... ok.

i try to look for street signs and see none. how does he know where the hell he is? how will i know where the hell i am? then i notice tiny signs posted on the building street corners. holy.... can he read those? the area we drive through is very urban; dirty, small streets, tall buildings, graffiti....no one smiling. i'm not really sure what i was expecting? maybe sombreros and pinatas everywhere? we get to my street. i tip him a euro even though the slu madrid people at the airport told us not to tip. i just thought... well, out of about 20 cabs, he's the only one that could take me home. keep the change, you filthy animal. don't spoil your dinner. he thanks me, unloads my bags, and leaves.

i look at the door to the apartment building, pray my roommates are already here, hold my breath, and press the buzzer to my senora's apartment.

"hola?"

"carmen?"