I am in the midst of writing a paper about "El Avión de la Bella Durmiente" by Gabriel García Márquez. I'll be glad to take a break from literature in Spanish, but I'll have to start up again as soon as the spring semester starts. This story isn't as unappealing as a lot of the other stuff I've read. The vocabulary isn't too bad, the story is from modern times (not 500 years ago) and it's a simple plot. This man sees a pretty young woman while waiting for his flight from Paris to New York. He describes her and seems obsessed with her beauty. Meanwhile there is a snowstorm that prevents them from leaving. Finally they board the plane and he sits by her expecting...I don't really know...to talk to her and propose marriage (well maybe not that). She immediately falls asleep before he can even say anything to her. And she sleeps the WHOLE way to New York. He's looking at her the whole time and thinking of her beauty. Then they land and she gets up and leaves and he never knows anything of her. In some of the analysis I read, they describe the girl as cold and only concerned about herself. I think they give her a hard time. Why is it such a big deal if you get on a plane, fall asleep and then get off without saying "bye" to the creepy older man sitting next to you? Maybe I lost something in translation, but it seems unfair to me.
The narrator also describes something that he had read about previously. Apparently the upper-class men of Kyoto would pay enormous sums to pass the night with the most beautiful girls of the city. The young women were naked and on drugs, while the men were agonizing of love in the same bed. The men couldn't touch or anything because the essence of pleasure was to see them sleeping.
¡Que raro! Is he talking about geishas, or were geishas something different?
Last night I cried a little before I fell asleep because I was listening to music. First a song came on that I heard a lot over the summer, then another song came on that I've only listened to since I've been here. Both songs represent a specific time of my life so well and they both sounded so good. The moral of the story is that I don't want to leave, while at the same time kind of wanting to go home. I feel so confused.
This past weekend was pretty fun. It made me regret not spending more weekends in Barcelona...though seeing Europe is also pretty important. Saturday morning I went to the Penedès Region with API to do a cava tour thing. I almost missed the bus because I overslept, which I NEVER do! Luckily I live close to our meeting spot, so I made it just in time. The tour was kind of boring actually. It reminded me of when I was a little girl and my family used to tour breweries in Wisconsin because my dad liked learning about beer. Then he started home-brewing and our whole house would smell like a brewery with my dad as the mad scientist working the controls, haha. Tasting cava was the best part, but mostly because I was so hungry and thirsty. It's a bit funny that the last thing I'd had to drink the night before was strawberry margarita and then I wake up and drink cava at 11AM. We were able to see Montserrat in the distance from the windowed tasting room.
Later that night Megumi and I went out to celebrate our weekend in Barcelona. We visited what we claim is our favorite bar "Q-Bar" and then went to another place to have Claras. I don't know if Claras exist in the US, but they should. It's beer mixed with tonic of lemon or lemon soda. It's girly for sure, but good. Finally we made it to Apolo, where we had to pay 13 euros to get in. The entrance fees to clubs here are ridiculous. Most are usually around 10 euros, the really popular ones can be more. Usually a drink is included. Some clubs offer free entrance with fliers, but those clubs usually suck or are meant for tourists. It's not as bad as Paris/London where they can be the equivalent of 25-40USD for entrance. Apolo was fun. It's seemed the least touristy of the places I've been, the music was decent (electronic/house), and the dance floor was giant. We went up to the balcony around the floor and looked down...there were so many people! It's what I imagined a European club to be like. From the balcony we spotted a girl in the very front with a bright blue wig, so we made it our mission to go dance with her. We got close and then her friend with a crazy spiky black wig and white hipster sunglasses offered me some of his drink. I was terrified that it probably had 500 types of drugs in it so I declined and told him I liked his hair instead. We left some time around 5:30AM. Things were still going strong. We wanted to go watch the sunrise at the beach (as we'd wanted to do about 15 times before) but as soon as I sat down on my bed I was out for the night.
Sunday I got up and ate lunch, then Megumi and I went out for tea at the cafe down the street since it's so cold in our house. Later I went for stroll around Born with my friend to practice my Spanish and his English. I think it's best to learn with someone who knows about as much of your language as you do of theirs. It's also good to learn with someone who's firm enough to force you to speak in Spanish. I've met many people with whom I can practice my Spanish, but it's always hard if the person knows English well enough because then the conversation always turns into English anyway. Right now I'm feeling irritated because I know I'm at a crucial point in my acquisition of fluency and I have to go home. If I were to continue living here for another 3-4 months, I think I'd be mostly fluent. Things are starting to "click" in terms of speaking, the way they once "clicked" in terms of writing. I'm so worried that I'm going to leave and lose my ability to speak at all. I have to find more people to practice with when I get back home.
Brrrr....I was definitely given the coldest room in our house.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
La vida sin viajes
What I'm enjoying:
Bright colors
Mix and match
Art
Amélie
Preparations for Christmas
Bread with oil and salt
Toasty cheeks
Reality
What's irking me:
Conjugating verbs
Flash on cameras
Short fingernails
Unnecessary use of highlighters in class
The twitch in my right eye
People hocking loogies
Profs who lectures too long
--------
So, I really miss Mexican food. I don't even eat it that often in Texas. It always seems so heavy; I don't ever crave it much. There's a Mexican place here but it's gotten mixed reviews. I don't want to waste my time. I also miss pasta. Yesterday I went out to lunch with friends and all I wanted was a big bowl of pasta. I ordered one, but it didn't hit the spot. I'm waiting to eat a huge plate at my dad's when I get back.
Going back home...it's coming up so fast. I think about it every day. I definitely want to be back, but not for too long. I want to see the people I miss and then return to Barcelona, but I know it doesn't work like that. I think the first month back will be nice and then I'll start missing what I have known here. On the other hand, it's possible that I just want to return to a normal style of living. I feel like here I know what I'm doing is temporary. It's been harder to really form true bonds with people for fear of saying goodbye at a predetermined date. I did the same thing, in a way, in Texas before I came here because I knew I'd be gone for a decent amount of time. It's all to protect myself, but sometimes I feel like it's not getting me anywhere. I look forward to having my own place again, being with friends again, living in a place where I speak the language fluently, having days where I don't feel guilty for laying around doing nothing, being able to drive home to see my family and focusing on my career after graduation. Even the simple things...sometimes I miss walking down Guadalupe, grocery shopping and cooking a meal, going downtown in Austin, running into people I know with some frequency...I don't have to miss it for much longer. The best way to look at it: at least I'm not going to be immediately depressed upon my arrival to Texas. I'm going to have to return to living with the future in mind. Living here is only about the present.
This week since I've been back I've been trying to experience Barcelona more. Tuesday I ventured up Montjuïc to go to Fundació Joan Miró. Miró was an abstract/surreal/Dada artist from the 20th century. He was from Cataluña/Islas Baleares. His museum houses much of his work plus special exhibitions. Even before I came to Europe, and especially since I've been here, I really like paintings of nudes. I've thought about starting some kind of collection, but I'm generally too poor to buy a bunch of art and I don't exactly have the space to collect many things at this point in my life. Anyway, the special exhibition was called "Un cos sense límits" which translates to "The body without limits". It was mostly an exhibition of nudes with art by Picasso, Matisse, Miró, Basquiat, Braque and Magritte, plus a bunch more I didn't recognize as much. My favorite was a piece by Egon Schiele, but I can't find a reproduction of it anywhere. It was really interesting to look at two pieces side by side, one might be really abstract, like a Picasso, and another might be totally realistic. I try to imagine how these artists interpret the bodies they're recreating and how the bodies would look in real life.
The rest of the museum was cool, too. Miró's work is a bit too abstract for my personal tastes, though I enjoyed looking at it. My favorite was called "May 1968" just because of the feeling I got from it.
Later that night I went to a concert with Megumi and her Swiss friend from class. He'd met the performers at a party the previous weekend. First it was a Japanese woman who sang with a keyboard...though we missed most of it. Then there were two guys who were like DJs except their music was really calm. It was mostly all electronic and made with their Macs. Then there was a projector with distorted video clips from Japan. It was hip to the max. I really liked the way the club looked inside. After the concert we went out with another Swiss and some Germans.
Another day I saw Sagrada Familia for the first time. I'd seen the spires from a distance, but I'd never been close enough to see the whole thing. It was impressive, but I want to return later to go inside to the top. The batteries in my camera were dead anyway.
I've been trying to go out more at night since I'm less tired and not traveling as much. I still can't say I know what my favorite bars or clubs are. I suppose I have preferences, but there are so many of them here it's impossible to know what might really be the best. What a horrible task...visiting all these bars and clubs! :)
Full steam ahead.
Bright colors
Mix and match
Art
Amélie
Preparations for Christmas
Bread with oil and salt
Toasty cheeks
Reality
What's irking me:
Conjugating verbs
Flash on cameras
Short fingernails
Unnecessary use of highlighters in class
The twitch in my right eye
People hocking loogies
Profs who lectures too long
--------
So, I really miss Mexican food. I don't even eat it that often in Texas. It always seems so heavy; I don't ever crave it much. There's a Mexican place here but it's gotten mixed reviews. I don't want to waste my time. I also miss pasta. Yesterday I went out to lunch with friends and all I wanted was a big bowl of pasta. I ordered one, but it didn't hit the spot. I'm waiting to eat a huge plate at my dad's when I get back.
Going back home...it's coming up so fast. I think about it every day. I definitely want to be back, but not for too long. I want to see the people I miss and then return to Barcelona, but I know it doesn't work like that. I think the first month back will be nice and then I'll start missing what I have known here. On the other hand, it's possible that I just want to return to a normal style of living. I feel like here I know what I'm doing is temporary. It's been harder to really form true bonds with people for fear of saying goodbye at a predetermined date. I did the same thing, in a way, in Texas before I came here because I knew I'd be gone for a decent amount of time. It's all to protect myself, but sometimes I feel like it's not getting me anywhere. I look forward to having my own place again, being with friends again, living in a place where I speak the language fluently, having days where I don't feel guilty for laying around doing nothing, being able to drive home to see my family and focusing on my career after graduation. Even the simple things...sometimes I miss walking down Guadalupe, grocery shopping and cooking a meal, going downtown in Austin, running into people I know with some frequency...I don't have to miss it for much longer. The best way to look at it: at least I'm not going to be immediately depressed upon my arrival to Texas. I'm going to have to return to living with the future in mind. Living here is only about the present.
This week since I've been back I've been trying to experience Barcelona more. Tuesday I ventured up Montjuïc to go to Fundació Joan Miró. Miró was an abstract/surreal/Dada artist from the 20th century. He was from Cataluña/Islas Baleares. His museum houses much of his work plus special exhibitions. Even before I came to Europe, and especially since I've been here, I really like paintings of nudes. I've thought about starting some kind of collection, but I'm generally too poor to buy a bunch of art and I don't exactly have the space to collect many things at this point in my life. Anyway, the special exhibition was called "Un cos sense límits" which translates to "The body without limits". It was mostly an exhibition of nudes with art by Picasso, Matisse, Miró, Basquiat, Braque and Magritte, plus a bunch more I didn't recognize as much. My favorite was a piece by Egon Schiele, but I can't find a reproduction of it anywhere. It was really interesting to look at two pieces side by side, one might be really abstract, like a Picasso, and another might be totally realistic. I try to imagine how these artists interpret the bodies they're recreating and how the bodies would look in real life.
The rest of the museum was cool, too. Miró's work is a bit too abstract for my personal tastes, though I enjoyed looking at it. My favorite was called "May 1968" just because of the feeling I got from it.
Later that night I went to a concert with Megumi and her Swiss friend from class. He'd met the performers at a party the previous weekend. First it was a Japanese woman who sang with a keyboard...though we missed most of it. Then there were two guys who were like DJs except their music was really calm. It was mostly all electronic and made with their Macs. Then there was a projector with distorted video clips from Japan. It was hip to the max. I really liked the way the club looked inside. After the concert we went out with another Swiss and some Germans.
Another day I saw Sagrada Familia for the first time. I'd seen the spires from a distance, but I'd never been close enough to see the whole thing. It was impressive, but I want to return later to go inside to the top. The batteries in my camera were dead anyway.
I've been trying to go out more at night since I'm less tired and not traveling as much. I still can't say I know what my favorite bars or clubs are. I suppose I have preferences, but there are so many of them here it's impossible to know what might really be the best. What a horrible task...visiting all these bars and clubs! :)
Full steam ahead.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Without a British acc(id)ent.
I don't regret worrying about my trip to London. If I hadn't been so scared, I wouldn't have prepared myself as much and without the proper preparations I'd probably run into many problems. My hostel was very far away from the center of London. It took about 45 minutes by Tube/bus. Before I left my host mom's daughter (who used to live there) told me there were a lot of "rappers" in Deptford. It ended up being fine. I met people from Canada and New Zealand with such interesting travel stories to tell.
The Arcade Fire on Saturday night: best concert of my life so far. Before this I thought The Strokes, Radiohead and Coldplay were the best live bands I'd seen. They're still high on my list, but I was so excited about this particular concert. Perhaps the circumstances are what made me enjoy it so much. A friend of mine told me that when he travels the happy moments are always happier and the bad moments are always worse. I found out the day before I left for London that Clinic (another band I like) would be opening. I got there right as they started their set, but it was really short. I saw one of the band members shaking his head, so maybe there was some problem. Truthfully, Clinic's performance was forgettable. While I was waiting for Arcade Fire I couldn't stop fidgeting and bobbing around. I was too excited to stand still. The venue was a really big room with high ceilings, quite nice inside. I was able to get close...the front row was a possibility, but it would have taken some pushing. Which is a huge difference between shows in Texas and shows in London. If you push through the crowd in London people get really mad. They stare and will say something if you don't move quickly. I didn't want to risk it. Here's just a clip of the concert. It's the best quality I could find. I took some of my own videos but my digital camera cannot handle the sound of Arcade Fire.
They covered Age of Consent by New Order. It was pretty amazing. I think being alone in a city I have no ties to enabled me to let go even more. I was singing and dancing along to all the songs...in a crowd of unknowns. I felt so free. I honestly didn't care at all because I would never see those people again. After that show, I would have paid another 100USD to go again the next night. It was that good. I've never wanted an encore so bad. It took me two hours to get back to the hostel. Right before I decided to sleep I put in my headphones. The only music I could choose was The Arcade Fire. I had no appetite for anything else. I listened...realized they are actually better live. Quite an accomplishment. I listened...and looked out the window from my top bunk, seeing the little cars swerving in the roundabout below. It had the look of coldness, London coldness. I knew I'd never forget that moment and how completely and totally satisfied I felt.
I saw many of the sights in London, but they didn't compare to walking around in some of the neighborhoods. Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, changing of the guard, St. James Park, Piccadilly Circus, Oxford Street, Trafalgar Square, The British Museum, riding a double decker bus--I saw/did it. (Though I didn't see the big cathedral or the Tower of London...don't care.) It was great to see all that stuff but my favorite places were Notting Hill on Saturday afternoon and Brick Lane on Sunday morning.
Notting Hill is basically a super cute, super hip neighborhood in West London. They have a huge market in the street on Portobello Road. Imagine a market of Whole Foods but much better and more international. Then add a market of clothes and furniture and anything else you can imagine. It was fabulous...and a little rainy. We sat and drank English tea from the balcony of a restaurant. Then I bought the best cupcake of my life and ate it in the streets. The houses are pastel colors! Kind of sick, but really sweet.
Brick Lane is in the East End. It's "Charles Dickens' London" and also where Jack the Ripper killed. Right now it's a predominately Bangladeshi area, very ethnic. They also have a big market on Sunday morning. The area is known for its excellent curry, though I was too poor and it was too early for curry. I did find a little bakery with a huge line. I stood in line and ordered the best bagel ever. It was all really cheap, for London. On my way back to the Tube station I walked past a guy dressed just like a Charles Dickens character, except this guy was totally some London hipster dude. I thought it was funny that the area gets known as being Dickens-y, then gains fame for being so ethnic and then as it becomes gentrified the people end up dressing like Dickens characters anyway. Maybe then the hipsters will start dressing like Bangladeshis. Who knows? Then I walked past a few puddles of left over vomit from the night before. Vomit is so common in the streets here. I think there is a positive correlation between how fun a neighborhood is on Saturday night and how much vomit is in the streets Sunday morning.
When I left on Sunday night it was snowing. I thought London was magical because of that. More logically, I was glad to leave because I don't think I was prepared to handle snowy London.
Right now it's surprisingly warm in Barcelona. I have two weeks of vacation in this city now. Two weeks to take care of everything I haven't done yet. Two weeks to prepare finals. Two weeks to go to as many fiestas as possible. I feel some sort of life progress. I don't mind eating stale bread, I speak broken Spanish without reservation and I'm preaching my faulty life philosophy to strangers.
Everything in life is amplified right now. It's a brilliance I've only known for brief moments in the States. I don't know how I'm going to maintain my mental health when I return to a life in washed out colors.
The Arcade Fire on Saturday night: best concert of my life so far. Before this I thought The Strokes, Radiohead and Coldplay were the best live bands I'd seen. They're still high on my list, but I was so excited about this particular concert. Perhaps the circumstances are what made me enjoy it so much. A friend of mine told me that when he travels the happy moments are always happier and the bad moments are always worse. I found out the day before I left for London that Clinic (another band I like) would be opening. I got there right as they started their set, but it was really short. I saw one of the band members shaking his head, so maybe there was some problem. Truthfully, Clinic's performance was forgettable. While I was waiting for Arcade Fire I couldn't stop fidgeting and bobbing around. I was too excited to stand still. The venue was a really big room with high ceilings, quite nice inside. I was able to get close...the front row was a possibility, but it would have taken some pushing. Which is a huge difference between shows in Texas and shows in London. If you push through the crowd in London people get really mad. They stare and will say something if you don't move quickly. I didn't want to risk it. Here's just a clip of the concert. It's the best quality I could find. I took some of my own videos but my digital camera cannot handle the sound of Arcade Fire.
They covered Age of Consent by New Order. It was pretty amazing. I think being alone in a city I have no ties to enabled me to let go even more. I was singing and dancing along to all the songs...in a crowd of unknowns. I felt so free. I honestly didn't care at all because I would never see those people again. After that show, I would have paid another 100USD to go again the next night. It was that good. I've never wanted an encore so bad. It took me two hours to get back to the hostel. Right before I decided to sleep I put in my headphones. The only music I could choose was The Arcade Fire. I had no appetite for anything else. I listened...realized they are actually better live. Quite an accomplishment. I listened...and looked out the window from my top bunk, seeing the little cars swerving in the roundabout below. It had the look of coldness, London coldness. I knew I'd never forget that moment and how completely and totally satisfied I felt.
I saw many of the sights in London, but they didn't compare to walking around in some of the neighborhoods. Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, changing of the guard, St. James Park, Piccadilly Circus, Oxford Street, Trafalgar Square, The British Museum, riding a double decker bus--I saw/did it. (Though I didn't see the big cathedral or the Tower of London...don't care.) It was great to see all that stuff but my favorite places were Notting Hill on Saturday afternoon and Brick Lane on Sunday morning.
Notting Hill is basically a super cute, super hip neighborhood in West London. They have a huge market in the street on Portobello Road. Imagine a market of Whole Foods but much better and more international. Then add a market of clothes and furniture and anything else you can imagine. It was fabulous...and a little rainy. We sat and drank English tea from the balcony of a restaurant. Then I bought the best cupcake of my life and ate it in the streets. The houses are pastel colors! Kind of sick, but really sweet.
Brick Lane is in the East End. It's "Charles Dickens' London" and also where Jack the Ripper killed. Right now it's a predominately Bangladeshi area, very ethnic. They also have a big market on Sunday morning. The area is known for its excellent curry, though I was too poor and it was too early for curry. I did find a little bakery with a huge line. I stood in line and ordered the best bagel ever. It was all really cheap, for London. On my way back to the Tube station I walked past a guy dressed just like a Charles Dickens character, except this guy was totally some London hipster dude. I thought it was funny that the area gets known as being Dickens-y, then gains fame for being so ethnic and then as it becomes gentrified the people end up dressing like Dickens characters anyway. Maybe then the hipsters will start dressing like Bangladeshis. Who knows? Then I walked past a few puddles of left over vomit from the night before. Vomit is so common in the streets here. I think there is a positive correlation between how fun a neighborhood is on Saturday night and how much vomit is in the streets Sunday morning.
When I left on Sunday night it was snowing. I thought London was magical because of that. More logically, I was glad to leave because I don't think I was prepared to handle snowy London.
Right now it's surprisingly warm in Barcelona. I have two weeks of vacation in this city now. Two weeks to take care of everything I haven't done yet. Two weeks to prepare finals. Two weeks to go to as many fiestas as possible. I feel some sort of life progress. I don't mind eating stale bread, I speak broken Spanish without reservation and I'm preaching my faulty life philosophy to strangers.
Everything in life is amplified right now. It's a brilliance I've only known for brief moments in the States. I don't know how I'm going to maintain my mental health when I return to a life in washed out colors.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
What's possibly the biggest letdown about Spain?
The gum here sucks.
Every American realizes it. "Sticks" of gum don't exist at all. Everything comes as those fat little rectangular type pieces. They all lose their flavor really fast, none of them have real sugar in them, the flavors are mostly weird fruity combinations and the boxes come with less than ten pieces in them. The two main brands are either Trident or Orbitz, that's it. It's not even cheap for such a crappy product. I'm going to chew so much gum when I get home.
I'm starting to get exhausted from all the traveling. I really wish I'd scheduled my London trip for one weekend later. I'm not prepared to go and I'm leaving in less than a day. I have this intuition something bad might happen, like I'll either lose a lot of money, or get hurt or get stuck somewhere. Quite honestly, I'm scared. On the plus side, they speak English. However, my hostel is really far away to the point where I don't think I can walk to it and it's supposed to be kind of wild which means even if I go home early (because the Metro is going to close) I probably won't be able to sleep from all the noise. I have no idea what I'm going to do there besides go to the concert. Even the concert is far away in another part of town and I'm going to be there alone. :( I think instead of worrying I'm going to try my best to prepare what I can and then wing it from there.
Last weekend I was in Paris. It was even more beautiful than I expected. I must return one day, hopefully in some time in spring when it's a little less cloudy and rainy. I've decided that I want to go to Rome, Paris and Barcelona for my honeymoon because it's probably the next chance I'll have to take an extravagant vacation. I wouldn't even care about having a nice wedding ceremony if it meant I could travel in Europe. Rome, Paris and Barcelona are all crawling with couples...it's kind of too much.
Right before we left for Paris I went over my friend's flat because we'd made plans to have a waxing party. She waxed my armpits and my screams rang out through the rooms. There were laughs interspersed because it was so funny. Waxing is so efficient but so painful. We may have a future together anyway.
Then we took a night train to Paris, we also took one home. After the trip I'd spent three of the past eight nights sleeping in trains. In Paris I saw a couple of cemetaries, the Louvre, underground catacombs, the Eiffel Tower (too many times), Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysees, the banks of the Seine, Notre Dame, Montmartre, Moulin Rouge and Sacre-Coeur. I ended up getting really frustrated on Saturday because despite my attemps at planning and organizing my time I felt like I wasn't seeing and understanding anything. It's really important for me to understand the significance of things. Many things I just walked by or took pictures of. Other things ended up irritating me over the trip. The second night I was there my friend and I bought food from the local shops and markets to eat for dinner. After finishing we decided to take a two hour nap and wake up at midnight to get ready to go out. We never woke up and I ended up sleeping through all of our Saturday night in Paris. For me, it's really hard to find the energy to "party" when I'm traveling. I get too tired.
Montmartre was probably my favorite part of Paris. It's still technically part of Paris, but it's more like a village. It's less crowded and so beautiful. It's where they filmed Amélie. So close to there is the street Clichy where they have so many sex shops and sex shows and hookers (though I didn't see them). It's the street where Moulin Rouge is located. It wasn't cute at all and my eyes were burning from all the naked pictures all over the shops windows. It was raining when I went inside Notre Dame. After I came out I was trying to explore a little bit in the really old part of Paris but it started pouring. I got stuck in the storm and wasted 15 minutes standing in a little door stoop by myself with a soggy coat. The Louvre was nice, but I think I enjoyed the Met (in NYC) a little more. I've seen so much art over here. I think I'm forming an even deeper appreciation for art musuems. I regret that I didn't eat a crepe while in Paris. Everyone seemed shocked. I'd had crepes before, are they really that different in France? I guess I'll have another chance to eat French crepes in December. On our way back to Spain the French trains workers were about to go on strike. Our train arrived in Barcelona at 8AM, the same time they started striking. We were really lucky. The other API group had their trip cancelled because there aren't trains to Paris anymore. They're all really really upset, understandably. It's too late for API to book plane tickets for everyone. They're trying to reschedule but most people already had other trips planned. They're not refunding any money, which seems like a bad idea.
Three things that get on my nerves about photos:
-Flash. I hate it. I hate when people use it unnecessarily.
-When people crop other people out of pictures for profile pictures. I would be sad if I was the cropped out person, wouldn't you?
-When people don't use the rule of thirds when they're taking a picture of someone in a location. Or when the person is angled so they're facing out of the frame.
It just irks me.
A few weeks ago my host mom's dog died, while I was in Sevilla. She's been pretty sad because Nuba was like her child. Sometimes it's weird to come home without the dog here. Her daughter is asking for a cat, but Ana keeps explaining that she doesn't want any more pets right now. It makes me think of my Baby. I miss him!
I've also decided, besides the European honeymoon, that if by some chance I ever have kids...I need to raise them in Europe. I feel like they'll turn out better. I'd be able to take them on more educational vacations, they'd learn other languages, and probably have a better understanding of the world, not just America. This could all be done easily if I marry a European. I'd get dual citizenship. There are such differences between European and American guys. Basically I think European men are more chivalrous and open with their affection but less dedicated to any one person. In contrast American men treat women casually and are more closed with their emotions but they seem to devote themselves to one person more readily.
Hopefully my next update will be about my London adventure. If I make it back.
Every American realizes it. "Sticks" of gum don't exist at all. Everything comes as those fat little rectangular type pieces. They all lose their flavor really fast, none of them have real sugar in them, the flavors are mostly weird fruity combinations and the boxes come with less than ten pieces in them. The two main brands are either Trident or Orbitz, that's it. It's not even cheap for such a crappy product. I'm going to chew so much gum when I get home.
I'm starting to get exhausted from all the traveling. I really wish I'd scheduled my London trip for one weekend later. I'm not prepared to go and I'm leaving in less than a day. I have this intuition something bad might happen, like I'll either lose a lot of money, or get hurt or get stuck somewhere. Quite honestly, I'm scared. On the plus side, they speak English. However, my hostel is really far away to the point where I don't think I can walk to it and it's supposed to be kind of wild which means even if I go home early (because the Metro is going to close) I probably won't be able to sleep from all the noise. I have no idea what I'm going to do there besides go to the concert. Even the concert is far away in another part of town and I'm going to be there alone. :( I think instead of worrying I'm going to try my best to prepare what I can and then wing it from there.
Last weekend I was in Paris. It was even more beautiful than I expected. I must return one day, hopefully in some time in spring when it's a little less cloudy and rainy. I've decided that I want to go to Rome, Paris and Barcelona for my honeymoon because it's probably the next chance I'll have to take an extravagant vacation. I wouldn't even care about having a nice wedding ceremony if it meant I could travel in Europe. Rome, Paris and Barcelona are all crawling with couples...it's kind of too much.
Right before we left for Paris I went over my friend's flat because we'd made plans to have a waxing party. She waxed my armpits and my screams rang out through the rooms. There were laughs interspersed because it was so funny. Waxing is so efficient but so painful. We may have a future together anyway.
Then we took a night train to Paris, we also took one home. After the trip I'd spent three of the past eight nights sleeping in trains. In Paris I saw a couple of cemetaries, the Louvre, underground catacombs, the Eiffel Tower (too many times), Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysees, the banks of the Seine, Notre Dame, Montmartre, Moulin Rouge and Sacre-Coeur. I ended up getting really frustrated on Saturday because despite my attemps at planning and organizing my time I felt like I wasn't seeing and understanding anything. It's really important for me to understand the significance of things. Many things I just walked by or took pictures of. Other things ended up irritating me over the trip. The second night I was there my friend and I bought food from the local shops and markets to eat for dinner. After finishing we decided to take a two hour nap and wake up at midnight to get ready to go out. We never woke up and I ended up sleeping through all of our Saturday night in Paris. For me, it's really hard to find the energy to "party" when I'm traveling. I get too tired.
Montmartre was probably my favorite part of Paris. It's still technically part of Paris, but it's more like a village. It's less crowded and so beautiful. It's where they filmed Amélie. So close to there is the street Clichy where they have so many sex shops and sex shows and hookers (though I didn't see them). It's the street where Moulin Rouge is located. It wasn't cute at all and my eyes were burning from all the naked pictures all over the shops windows. It was raining when I went inside Notre Dame. After I came out I was trying to explore a little bit in the really old part of Paris but it started pouring. I got stuck in the storm and wasted 15 minutes standing in a little door stoop by myself with a soggy coat. The Louvre was nice, but I think I enjoyed the Met (in NYC) a little more. I've seen so much art over here. I think I'm forming an even deeper appreciation for art musuems. I regret that I didn't eat a crepe while in Paris. Everyone seemed shocked. I'd had crepes before, are they really that different in France? I guess I'll have another chance to eat French crepes in December. On our way back to Spain the French trains workers were about to go on strike. Our train arrived in Barcelona at 8AM, the same time they started striking. We were really lucky. The other API group had their trip cancelled because there aren't trains to Paris anymore. They're all really really upset, understandably. It's too late for API to book plane tickets for everyone. They're trying to reschedule but most people already had other trips planned. They're not refunding any money, which seems like a bad idea.
Three things that get on my nerves about photos:
-Flash. I hate it. I hate when people use it unnecessarily.
-When people crop other people out of pictures for profile pictures. I would be sad if I was the cropped out person, wouldn't you?
-When people don't use the rule of thirds when they're taking a picture of someone in a location. Or when the person is angled so they're facing out of the frame.
It just irks me.
A few weeks ago my host mom's dog died, while I was in Sevilla. She's been pretty sad because Nuba was like her child. Sometimes it's weird to come home without the dog here. Her daughter is asking for a cat, but Ana keeps explaining that she doesn't want any more pets right now. It makes me think of my Baby. I miss him!
I've also decided, besides the European honeymoon, that if by some chance I ever have kids...I need to raise them in Europe. I feel like they'll turn out better. I'd be able to take them on more educational vacations, they'd learn other languages, and probably have a better understanding of the world, not just America. This could all be done easily if I marry a European. I'd get dual citizenship. There are such differences between European and American guys. Basically I think European men are more chivalrous and open with their affection but less dedicated to any one person. In contrast American men treat women casually and are more closed with their emotions but they seem to devote themselves to one person more readily.
Hopefully my next update will be about my London adventure. If I make it back.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
El Sur
I got back on Monday.
GRANADA
-Leaving the house at 4:00AM.
-Sitting in the airport shuttle thirty minutes before our flight to Granada was going to leave. Worrying that we wouldn't make it.
-Watching Pink Panther on the plane while listening to Cocteau Twins on my iPod. An interesting soundtrack.
-Sleeping in the airport for two hours because it was too early and too cold. Cricket tells me I dress like a "sassy art teacher". This is where the joke takes its roots...that I am somehow sassy.
-Arriving in Granada and meeting our CouchSurfing host. Sleeping in his flat for another few hours and FREEZING.
-Going out for tapas with our host. Granada is one of the only places in Spain where you actually get free tapas with a drink. I was buzzed and full for less than 6 euros. :)
-Trying to register for spring classes from an internet cafe that night. Ugh.
-The impromptu 80s dance party in our host's flat. With only three people in attendance.
-Walking around aimlessly in our "costumes" because it was Halloween. The cold air pinched at our faces and we eventually gave up because we were so cold and tired.
-Sleeping across the crack that joins two beds. Being uncomfortable but not caring.
-Running up the hill towards the Alhambra at 7:30AM. Sipping coffee and eating chocolate pastries in line. And then GETTING TICKETS! I forgot all of the problems in the world at that moment.
-Being in a state of amazement/awe/wonder/shock the whole time I was at the Alhambra. Touching the plaster with my hands. Trying to imagine sultans strutting around. (All I could think of were scenes from Aladdin for some reason.) Wondering how I could replicate those types of decorations in my own house one day. Walking through the gardens. Looking at the city down below. A very happy time.
-Buying wine for our host and then finding a change purse in the plaza outside. Contained 29 euros, two stamps, a lottery ticket and a safety pin. Waiting to see if someone would come claim it. No one did so we kept it and bought lunch at the bus station.
-The landscape between Granada and Sevilla. Hills covered with perfectly spaced trees. The huge yellow Spanish sun setting ahead of us.
SEVILLA
-The nicest hostel I've ever stayed at. Everything in white, marble floors and a modern bathroom. Snooty receptionists. Stupid American boys trying to hang out with us.
-Encountering a Russian girl on the street who showed us the way to Calle Alfalfa.
-Sitting in a pizza place for hours ordering more and more food. The waiter brought me two desserts by accident. Okay!
-Seeing girls from my class at UB on the street.
-Following two Spanish guys all over the city and ending up at a semi-pijo club. Realizing people in Sevilla dress way too formally for every occasion and non-occasion.
-Having to sit down on a doorstep for a few minutes to collect my stomach on the way home.
-Next day, eating huge bocadillos in Plaza Nueva with Holly while discussing our philosophies about relationships and studying abroad.
-Touring the Alcázar. It bascially reminded me of a lesser version of the Alhambra.
-My friends talking to a ridiculously drunk man from the UK for thirty minutes. It was only 6:00PM. I sat under a statue by myself because I didn't want to be associated with the shenanigans.
-Eating tapas and drinking a gross wannabe-sangria drink. Going to an Italian restaurant in what used to be a building for the Arab baths. Italian food, Moorish decor, in the heart of southern Spain. A true mezcla.
-Going to a club with lights made of fishbowls with fish swimming in them.
CÓRDOBA
-Catching the bus to Córdoba. Noticing the scenery change right before arriving in Córdoba. Wake up to a landscape that looks like a desert, with dunes made of something that wasn't sand.
-Walking through the Jewish Quarter looking for a place to eat lunch. Walk too far and end up on a main street away from the tourists. Choose a Chinese restaurant. Pretty much the same all over the world.
-Enter La Mezquita. Didn't realize how many of the red and white arches there were inside. A very contrasting mix of Muslim and Christian architecture. Parts seem completely Christian, other parts seem completely Muslim. Technically it is Christian right now. I didn't have an audio guide so it was hard to understand exactly why everything was so important.
-Buying candy at the bus station. 1.10euro for 100 grams. I got 300 grams and ate most of it on the bus ride home. Felt sick.
MORE SEVILLA
-Back in Sevilla found La Carbonería for a Flamenco show. Known to be authentic with a good mix of tourists and locals. I was convinced. Flamenco is the sassiest dance I've seen.
-Holly and I walk around the city for a couple of hours with our friend from Barcelona and his friend who studies in Sevilla. The streets and clubs are mostly empty due to the holiday.
-Weather the next morning is perfect. I buy a chocolate palma that doesn't taste fresh. We walk to Plaza España where there is a huge car show going on. From what I can tell they are all Seat 600s. (Is that a type of car?) I immediately want one. They are divine.
-We watch a poor vendor trying to hawk his cheap scarves to tourists. His wife/friend is trying to sell fans. I buy one. Not out of sympathy or pressure. Only because I want one.
-We eat tapas for a couple of hours. Cricket gets a 6.00 euro gofre (waffle). Feels ripped off, haha.
-We tour the cathedral and go to the top of the Giralda. We are exhausted. Too many sites in one weekend. I could have appreciated cathedral/Giralda a lot more than I did. Though the view from the top was superb.
-Walk around for a few more hours. Stop at a little mercado where we buy bread, drinks, fruit, pastries and other things. We sit in the plaza outside where there are people, but not too many. The weather is still perfect, the sun is about to start setting, my bread tastes amazing. We talk about all of our inside jokes from the trip: being pijas, being sassy and poop. In the midst of one of our poop talks someone loudly closes a window. I assume it was a coincidence because most people don't speak much English.
-On our way back to the center we encountered some ancient ruins right in someone's backyard.
-Picked up our luggage and went to the train station.
-While I am using the bathroom a woman tries to open my stall and I hold it shut. Then she tries to open it again and I slam it in her face. What's with people? A slamming stall door means it's occupied!
-We took the Trenhotel. Slept for many hours. The next day we all laugh because there was a woman in each of our cars and got totally undressed and went under the sheets. These crazy Spanish ladies!
Southern Spain is so different from Barcelona. After visiting some of the other cities in the country, I can definitely see why Cataluña wants/wanted to be its own entity. There's a totally different feel to Barcelona. It's much more international, the style is much more artsy and modern and the people are a bit more closed off. As I've seen graffitied so many times around here, "Cataluña is not Spain." I think Cataluña is more like Spain's cousin. They are similar but not the same. What's really begun to irritate me is when people ask why I'm trying to learn Spanish in Barcelona. Spanish IS spoken here. Catalan is prevalent on signs in the city but it's easy to understand if you know Spanish. Everything is available in Spanish and people speak to you in Spanish. I don't feel like it's any kind of disadvantage to learn Spanish here. Barcelona is still my favorite city in Spain, without a doubt.
GRANADA
-Leaving the house at 4:00AM.
-Sitting in the airport shuttle thirty minutes before our flight to Granada was going to leave. Worrying that we wouldn't make it.
-Watching Pink Panther on the plane while listening to Cocteau Twins on my iPod. An interesting soundtrack.
-Sleeping in the airport for two hours because it was too early and too cold. Cricket tells me I dress like a "sassy art teacher". This is where the joke takes its roots...that I am somehow sassy.
-Arriving in Granada and meeting our CouchSurfing host. Sleeping in his flat for another few hours and FREEZING.
-Going out for tapas with our host. Granada is one of the only places in Spain where you actually get free tapas with a drink. I was buzzed and full for less than 6 euros. :)
-Trying to register for spring classes from an internet cafe that night. Ugh.
-The impromptu 80s dance party in our host's flat. With only three people in attendance.
-Walking around aimlessly in our "costumes" because it was Halloween. The cold air pinched at our faces and we eventually gave up because we were so cold and tired.
-Sleeping across the crack that joins two beds. Being uncomfortable but not caring.
-Running up the hill towards the Alhambra at 7:30AM. Sipping coffee and eating chocolate pastries in line. And then GETTING TICKETS! I forgot all of the problems in the world at that moment.
-Being in a state of amazement/awe/wonder/shock the whole time I was at the Alhambra. Touching the plaster with my hands. Trying to imagine sultans strutting around. (All I could think of were scenes from Aladdin for some reason.) Wondering how I could replicate those types of decorations in my own house one day. Walking through the gardens. Looking at the city down below. A very happy time.
-Buying wine for our host and then finding a change purse in the plaza outside. Contained 29 euros, two stamps, a lottery ticket and a safety pin. Waiting to see if someone would come claim it. No one did so we kept it and bought lunch at the bus station.
-The landscape between Granada and Sevilla. Hills covered with perfectly spaced trees. The huge yellow Spanish sun setting ahead of us.
SEVILLA
-The nicest hostel I've ever stayed at. Everything in white, marble floors and a modern bathroom. Snooty receptionists. Stupid American boys trying to hang out with us.
-Encountering a Russian girl on the street who showed us the way to Calle Alfalfa.
-Sitting in a pizza place for hours ordering more and more food. The waiter brought me two desserts by accident. Okay!
-Seeing girls from my class at UB on the street.
-Following two Spanish guys all over the city and ending up at a semi-pijo club. Realizing people in Sevilla dress way too formally for every occasion and non-occasion.
-Having to sit down on a doorstep for a few minutes to collect my stomach on the way home.
-Next day, eating huge bocadillos in Plaza Nueva with Holly while discussing our philosophies about relationships and studying abroad.
-Touring the Alcázar. It bascially reminded me of a lesser version of the Alhambra.
-My friends talking to a ridiculously drunk man from the UK for thirty minutes. It was only 6:00PM. I sat under a statue by myself because I didn't want to be associated with the shenanigans.
-Eating tapas and drinking a gross wannabe-sangria drink. Going to an Italian restaurant in what used to be a building for the Arab baths. Italian food, Moorish decor, in the heart of southern Spain. A true mezcla.
-Going to a club with lights made of fishbowls with fish swimming in them.
CÓRDOBA
-Catching the bus to Córdoba. Noticing the scenery change right before arriving in Córdoba. Wake up to a landscape that looks like a desert, with dunes made of something that wasn't sand.
-Walking through the Jewish Quarter looking for a place to eat lunch. Walk too far and end up on a main street away from the tourists. Choose a Chinese restaurant. Pretty much the same all over the world.
-Enter La Mezquita. Didn't realize how many of the red and white arches there were inside. A very contrasting mix of Muslim and Christian architecture. Parts seem completely Christian, other parts seem completely Muslim. Technically it is Christian right now. I didn't have an audio guide so it was hard to understand exactly why everything was so important.
-Buying candy at the bus station. 1.10euro for 100 grams. I got 300 grams and ate most of it on the bus ride home. Felt sick.
MORE SEVILLA
-Back in Sevilla found La Carbonería for a Flamenco show. Known to be authentic with a good mix of tourists and locals. I was convinced. Flamenco is the sassiest dance I've seen.
-Holly and I walk around the city for a couple of hours with our friend from Barcelona and his friend who studies in Sevilla. The streets and clubs are mostly empty due to the holiday.
-Weather the next morning is perfect. I buy a chocolate palma that doesn't taste fresh. We walk to Plaza España where there is a huge car show going on. From what I can tell they are all Seat 600s. (Is that a type of car?) I immediately want one. They are divine.
-We watch a poor vendor trying to hawk his cheap scarves to tourists. His wife/friend is trying to sell fans. I buy one. Not out of sympathy or pressure. Only because I want one.
-We eat tapas for a couple of hours. Cricket gets a 6.00 euro gofre (waffle). Feels ripped off, haha.
-We tour the cathedral and go to the top of the Giralda. We are exhausted. Too many sites in one weekend. I could have appreciated cathedral/Giralda a lot more than I did. Though the view from the top was superb.
-Walk around for a few more hours. Stop at a little mercado where we buy bread, drinks, fruit, pastries and other things. We sit in the plaza outside where there are people, but not too many. The weather is still perfect, the sun is about to start setting, my bread tastes amazing. We talk about all of our inside jokes from the trip: being pijas, being sassy and poop. In the midst of one of our poop talks someone loudly closes a window. I assume it was a coincidence because most people don't speak much English.
-On our way back to the center we encountered some ancient ruins right in someone's backyard.
-Picked up our luggage and went to the train station.
-While I am using the bathroom a woman tries to open my stall and I hold it shut. Then she tries to open it again and I slam it in her face. What's with people? A slamming stall door means it's occupied!
-We took the Trenhotel. Slept for many hours. The next day we all laugh because there was a woman in each of our cars and got totally undressed and went under the sheets. These crazy Spanish ladies!
Southern Spain is so different from Barcelona. After visiting some of the other cities in the country, I can definitely see why Cataluña wants/wanted to be its own entity. There's a totally different feel to Barcelona. It's much more international, the style is much more artsy and modern and the people are a bit more closed off. As I've seen graffitied so many times around here, "Cataluña is not Spain." I think Cataluña is more like Spain's cousin. They are similar but not the same. What's really begun to irritate me is when people ask why I'm trying to learn Spanish in Barcelona. Spanish IS spoken here. Catalan is prevalent on signs in the city but it's easy to understand if you know Spanish. Everything is available in Spanish and people speak to you in Spanish. I don't feel like it's any kind of disadvantage to learn Spanish here. Barcelona is still my favorite city in Spain, without a doubt.
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