The Savior of Spain: FOOD

I know, I know, the amount of time I've kept you in suspense could probably constitute as cruel and unusual punishment, and for that, I am remarkably sorry. The European Union has kept me busier than ever.
For those of you who know (or at least stalk) me, you are familiar with my love of goal setting (and accomplishing). So I begin the entry with this:

Granada and Barcelona catch up this entry.

Semana Santa (Spring Break) adventures by Thursday, April 13th.

Step one...

¡Granada! Land of delicious food...

So we went to Granada (if I remember correctly) the last weekend in February. Perhaps it was the first weekend in March. If dates mattered to you, I would check, but I rest assured you're probably not stressing about it.

We = Alex, Sonya, Liz and I (3 of my room mates) arrived late Friday night, checked into the hostel, and left immediately to enoy free tapas. We may have started late, but we quickly and happily stuffed our faces with sangria and food. Tapas, to clarify, are essentially free ´appetizers´ popular in Spain. Some of them border sketchy (such as, but not limited to, blood soup and sausage), and others are absolutely appetizing (calamari anyone?!) We met a few guys who seemed friendly at first, and then proceeded to make fun of all Americans (in a not so charming way).
Which brings me to a side note. They mentioned to us in the first weeks that we would experience some profiling and be subject to many stereotypes. I didn't understand, nor did I completely believe, these assumptions I was to make. But after being here for a few months, I can unfortunately say that I've heard plenty of ¨fuck the US¨ and American slurs to last me the rest of the trip. And in retaliation, since arguing is generally not worth the time and effort, I will say, that while I am not always one hundred percent proud of the United States and it's history, that no citizen of any country really can say they are, if they're being *honest.* I'm here, in Spain, for 6 months, to learn about the culture, language and history. What are you doing to advance your knowledge of the US?

Moving on...

We went to bed on the later side, to wake up super early in an attempt to get tickets for the Alhambra. We arrived around 7:30 am to wait in line, and were surprised to find that many of the others waiting in line also lived or studied in Madrid. While we perhaps, did not need to arrive quite as early as we did, the security in tickets was definitely worth it. The Alhambra, (I will attempt to describe, but words are scarce for me at this moment) is essentially a large reserve full of ancient Moorish palaces atop the mountains in Granada. Not only was the area beautiful, but the view was spectacular.


We also made time for the Catholic Cathedral and plenty of food. As if my suitcases won't be heavy enough, Spain is providing me with a few extra pounds. And if free tapas with every drink, and icecream weren't enough in Granada, we also felt the need to try out Fresco, a pizza, salad, soup and dessert buffet.

Anyway, like any mature group of 20 something year old girls, our second night ended with a stop at the candy store and t.v. in our hostel :)

We peaced out of Granada gracefully with some market shopping, tomb looking (El Capillo Real, where Ferdinand and Isabel are ´buried´, kind of a big deal...) Overall, a successful trip :)

¡Barcelona! Land of over priced buildings.

So, perhaps I went into Barcelona with expectations raised too high... Everyone I had talked to claimed it was one of their favorite trips... one of the prettiest cities in Spain. But for me, while I enjoyed myself (as always), I felt like Barcelona was created for tourists, and boosted little else.

Liz and I took the first Metro to the airport, and boarded early am flights. We met Sonya in the Barcelona Airport, and took a cab to our destination: Mysterious hostel!

Here you may admire the door our hostel. Our cab driver a) had no idea where the hostel was and b) left us with immense laughter and a ¨Good luck¨.


The Ritz definitely gave some flavor to our trip however. We met a few crazy Italian guys and couldn't contain our laughter at the middle night shenanigans of our roommates.


Thursday we walked around the city, explored the outdoor sights, streets and plazas... We went to one of Gaudi's fanfabulously designed houses: Casa Mila. Which was cool, but also slightly disappointing as we could only see maybe a third of the rooms. We grabbed delicious tapas and dessert at a local restaurant, took a nap, and headed back out for an adventerous night of gelato and ham pearls.

Friday we woke up early to check out the huge market in Barcelona: La Boqueria. Looking for small dead pigs? Check! Fresh fruit juice? Check! Vegetables, tapas, crepes? Success! I tried some kiwi coconut juice (delicious, in case you were wondering) before we made our way to the Picasso Museum. After hours of art, we attempted to make our way to the beach. A food stop was necessary first (real food followed by gelato). While the sun was less existent than I would have liked and the weather a little chilly, stepping on sand in March was amazing. After the beach, we split up and Liz, Sonya and I checked out a fairytale themed bar. (Barcelona must have known I was coming!) before taking a short nap, and grabbing a late dinner Sushi buffet style. After hanging out with some Italian boys, and being stalked by a crazy Barcelonean, we headed to bed.


Saturday included another morning at the market, Park Guell (Gaudi's famous HUGE park). For all of you America's Next Top Model Fans, the season with Carrie Dee and Melrose season finale was filmed here (always in the presence of fame here, even when it's not my own). We also checked out the Sagrada Familia, a church Gaudi began designing in the late 1800's, which has yet to be finished. I will say the 'tourist' attractions made up the low lights of our experience in Barcelona. Everything was incredibly over priced, and you couldn't explore half of the inside of any edificio. In La Sagrada Familia (apparently the one big thing you HAVE to see in Barcelona), for example, I took an elevator to the top (basically your only option), saw a great view, and walked down approximately 1.93 thousand flights of boring cement stairs. All for the low low student discounted price of 12.50 euros. And like I mentioned, the building is completely under construction so you couldn't see more than a fourth of the ground floor.

We ended our last night in Barcelona with (obviously), more food, getting lost, more food, and an early bed time as our flight required us to get up around 5am.

All in all, as much as Barcelona perhaps didn't live up to it's expectations, I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. By the end of the vaca however, I was more than ready to explore some cities outside of Spain.

Semana Santa, here we go!

As promised, blog catch-up this week :)

A day in the life of...

The tired and lame?

So, I'm currently sitting in bed, taking full advantage of my last allowed week of pirated American movies online by watching the Titanic and avoiding sleep, yet again, as has become the trend thus far this year.

With all of my classes (finally) in progress, I've fallen behind in many aspects, including but not limited to: journaling, blogging, emailing, sleeping, baking, cooking, grocery shopping, reading and homework doing. I wanted to write about my trip to Granada the other weekend, and basically reminisce about all of the incredible tapas I devoured (as this seems to be my trend in Europe, theme consumed by food...) but with almost a month to catch up on, I figured I'd give you a glimpse into the perhaps less glamorous side of my life in Spain first.

So, a little over 3 weeks ago, I moved officially, into my new piso (apartment). If you hate searching for apartments in said hometown, imagine attempting to search in a country where
a) you don't speak their native language fluently and b) you are forced to rely on either incredibly expensive cell phone calls or reliably unreliable internet connections to contact landlords. Anyway, I completely lucked out in that I'm living with 6 fantastic ladies in a perhaps less than fantastic house (my only major complaint at this time is a lack of an oven capable of human interaction). They make up a fabulous mixture of origins (the states, Columbia, Mexico and Brazil). And I will admit, I am as shocked as you are to discover that I now have more girl friends in one house than I have probably ever had in all of the years of my life combined.

Moving in was quite the ordeal, as 10 men approached me and attempted to help me move my bags, but with being warned countless times about theft here, I more or less held onto my 100 pound bag for dear life. The first night here, I figured out how to make toast without a toaster (be impressed), tried poached eggs for the first time, and shared the cama matrimonia con Liz (¡que mono!).

Living with these bonitas has been beyond great, however I find myself even more distracted than I had previously believed to be possible. Why do homework when you can do arm tickle? Or eat arroz con leche in the kitchen (arroz con leche has become my current substitute for baking)?

I know that I am clearly here to learn, become better at Spanish, blah blah blah, but I just feel like I really shouldn't have to work so much. Upon careful surveying, the majority of program participants agree... Normally writing a 3 page paper takes one batch of procrastination, a trip to Panera and a few hours (in the states). Here, it requires 3 weeks of debate, a non existent library, coffee shop or union, and countless hours that should have been devoted to sleep. The whole situation is made even more unfortunate because I'm already fighting for the affection of my professor with my room mate Alex (she has blonde hair, so, she's one up on me), and the whole prospect of marriage is probably down the drain after this fiasco.

Moving on...

With a whole month to catch up on, I suppose I can't fill the blog with my normal unnecessary commentary. So, here's a brief itinery of Breanne: American Student in Spanish City, abridged version (that's me, by the way, in case you've forgotten).

I'll begin with a typical ¨week in the life of¨ with a few highlights dispersed after.

Lunes y Martes: Class from 8:30 through 4:00 pm. I have a small break after my first class in which I always grab cafe con leche and usually a pastry or two with Kim and Alex. Mondays and Tuesdays my classes consist of Painting at the Prado, Comparative Sintax of Spanish and English, History of American Culture, and Cervantes. Four classes minght not sound like that much, but I assure you, they're each an hour and a half long, and you simply sit there, taking notes, attempting to absorb Spanish (a class where you sit absolutely puzzles me).

Mondays I teach an adorable 9 year old girl and Tuesdays I teach a borderline adorable 10 year old boy. I'm fairly convinced the boy hates me though (as much as his mom reminds him how supposedly "pretty" I am). To be fair, I think a 2 hour tutoring session sucks too. I usually get home around 8:30pm.

Wednesdays: Because my window looks into the courtyard, minimal light reaches my bed, making waking up VERY difficult. Wednesdays however, I go to the Prado (Art Museum) for class for 2 to 3 hours, and typically grab a late lunch with friends before heading home and attempting to catch up on homework and work for the week. I then have ballet with a bunch of tiny Spaniards.

Thursdays and Fridays: Lately I've been attending 2 classes (one at 10am and one at 6pm). However, now that my schedule is finally set, I will only be attending the 6pm one. I feel that this situation is really conducive to my social life, which I've realized has become my prioritized motivation in attending class both in Madison and Madrid. Every Thursday I contemplate cleaning my room, which just goes to show how often it actually gets cleaned. Every Friday I meet with my intercambio for a few hours to practice Spanish/English.

Overall, my week is actually fairly jam packed with class, studying, working, ballet-ing, etc. What probably frustrates me most greatly however, is that I spend a good two to four hours a day on the Metro, simply going place to place. I have never felt more like an American... Missing a car like mad :( While I am taking less classes than in Madison, working less hours, and volunteering and immersing myself in less extra curricular activities *etc.etc.* here, I still feel like I rarely have time to breathe, let alone update this blog (which I promise, for my many fans, I will try to be better with).


On a more exciting note.... Slash, a few highlights out of the ordinary?:

02-17
Culture Shock Workshop (listed our likes i.e. pastries, public transportation, dirt cheap wine and dislikes i.e. public face eating, smelling like ashtrays, forgetting the concept of sleep).
Ate quite possibly the best 'Menu del día' at Rincón de Antonio with Alex, Liz and Kim.
Attempted to read, but mostly napped in bed with Liz and Alex (what would we do without the cama matrimonia?

02-18
First day of Literatura y Marginalidad. Our professor made clear that he knows our Spanish (as Americans) is on a quite lower level. Basically, we've been designated the Special Ed students, which I thought I would mind, but have found that I don't, because Spain has definitely proven my language level is slightly lower than I thought.
Attempted to go to El tigre with my fabutastic roomies, but it was a bit crowded... Settled for Cien Montaditos, which of course, is not really settling.

02-19
Went grocery shopping (huge fail for Spain... NO STOVE TOP POPCORN), and to San Ginéz with my old roommate Emily (for churros and chocolate). Watched ¨Valentine's Day¨ (clearly becoming more cultured here).

02-20
Went to Parque de Retiro with Liz. Made (and obviously perfected) my first attempt at arroz con leche. Now a house staple.
Went to a 2 silaba themed party... Our idea was so clever (soy árbol, somos bosque!) that we actually now refer to this party as the ¨Arbol¨ party. Arbol by the way, means tree. Got home around 8:30am. Spain, you are RIDICULOUS. Public transportation (the Metro) is closed between the hours of 2am and 6am. This means, unless you want to pay for a taxi, you are not going home until 6am. Silly Spain, silly...

02-21
Slept until 4pm esc. Watched ¨The Orphan¨ with Emily. Obviously felt the need to make and eat more arroz con leche.

02-22
First day of Historia de la Cultura de America. A little confused about if the professor this day was actually the professor (mostly because he was a male and I swore Dra. Pilar would be a woman... correct assumption, in case you were wondering... but in Spain you never know... especcially with my various lost in translation moments).

02-24
Ate lunch at a Thai restaurant with Bonnie, Seth, Marissa and Amanda. Food was surprisenly GREAT.
Met with Carl and Jason in an attempt to go to the temporary Impressionist exhibit... After waiting in line for an hour, we opted for cañas and tapas instead (great choice). With Chris, they came over and we (you'll never guess what we made... try...)

ARROZ CON LECHE!

02-25
Made our way to Principe Pio (my old barrio!!) in an attempt to go to Fabio's house. Guess who wasnt there... FABIO! So we made our way to Sol, where Fabio proceeded to tell us that in fact that situation was our own fault because only crazy Spaniards begin their night after 12:30am...

02-26 through 02-28
GRANADA! Will write more about this trip in next blog with accompany-ing pictures.

03-03
Went to first Ballet class in Madrid. Interesting on many levels:
1) I was actually unsure about how to get to the ballet class... I somehow forgot that in Madrid, building numbers can actually be the same for 10 buildings right next to one another. So, when I saw that 24 (the supposed address) was for an apartment complex, I had no idea what to do... Do I knock on every door? What a strange building for a ballet studio (although it is Spain)?... Instead, my strategy become to look for a skinny girl in a bun and tights... Success after about 10 minutes, and as I followed her down the street, I realized that had I looked up past my 5'4'' height, I would have realized that "Carmina Ballet's" sign was above the building 3 doors down. Hmmm...
2) I was by far the largest girl in the class *which has actually never happened to me before*.
3) I thought that ballet had a fairly universal language (French) however, the instructor either pronounced French words with a Spanish accent or made up her own, because I had no idea what was going on half of the time, and of course, she was too busy to demonstrate the combinations.
4) It's clear that Balanchine's Americanization of ballet has placed a much greater value on athleticism in the states, as combinations were about 20 seconds and consisted of 5 moves. I was so out of shape however that remembering the combinations was quite a task... Just a clarification that I do indeed need to be taking the class.
5) The professor supposedly has an alumni working as a principle dancer in Milwaukee Ballet (reminded every day how small this world is).

Went for a large serving of icecream and Shutter Island (how my heart still thumps for Leo) with Emily, and passed out.

03-04
Met up at Curt's with him, Kent and some of their friends and headed to the Sol area. We met a Sweedish blonde girl who proceeded to flash me her boob and bottom. She went on with the conversation for about 20 minutes saying how great it is to be blonde because its so "cheap" (everyone buys you drinks) but after about 20 minutes shifted opinions and decided it's not that great because people try to hit on you and you have to ward them off (hence said shown bruises).

03-05
Met with intercambio. Absolutely adorable. Spent most of the time listening to me butcher Spanish and laughing.
After running on 3 hours of sleep, we attempted to prepare our house for a party we were informed of through Facebook. *Yayy Spain!?* Perk? I got to pass out on my bed with minimal walking.

03-06
Went to Reina Sofia with Chris, Carl and Jason. Some AWESOME art, and some freaking weird art... Like most parts of Spain, you have Picasso juxtaposed with John Glenn rectangles. After the museum, we grabbed food at this incredible Ethiopian restaurant. The four of us passed dishes family style and while I couldn't tell you exactly what I ate, I can tell you that it was some of the best food I've had in this country. After dinner, we ended up at Carls (which we had only meant to stop by) and had oranges with hot sauce (surprisenly delicious), oreos and milk, and played cards with his roommate.
Ended the evening at the Cherokee (I didn't know Indians were so closely associated with chef hats either) with Kent, Mike and Sonya. Met some super friendly Spaniard men. Don't worry Dad, when one of them informed me that lawyers in the states are much more pretencious than those in Europe, I put in a good word for you.

03-07
Ran to the grocery store. Wrote the most painful paper of the semester. To be fair, the story the paper was based on involved a woman getting raped, having her child run over by a couple, who happened to be the parents of her rapist, who then set them up... Woman and man live happily ever after?

03-08
Spent half of my teaching session abrupting in laughter. My student's mom had made strawberry smoothies, and tripped over herself, spilling them everywhere in the room.

03-09
Our friend Katie, got into the Teach for America program, so we took her out to celebrate.

03-10
Went to lunch with Seth and Jake. A half an hour lunch turned into 3 hours of conversation. Best freshly squeezed juice ever.

03-11
Cherokee (probably should become regulars) with some lovely people.

03-12
Met with intercambio.
Cien Montaditos with Curt, Mike, Cian and Kent. Eventually made it to Fabio's and then Low Club for Freshspooner (the mysterious DJ that we went to listen to, who of course, had not shown up by 4am).

What will today entail? I'll keep you in suspense...
(By the way, pictures, in chronological order: fountain outside my apartment, door of my apartment, my room, our oven knob, Parque Retiro, Reina Sofia Art Museum, Roommates plus a few, Spanish friends, arbol theme).

At this point, I would like to end on a cheesy esc note however.

As much as I seemingly complain about Spain (how bad it smells and how nothing is ever logical), I must confess that I am indeed, madly in love with this city. I had always bashed those that claimed they used college or traveling abroad to "find themselves" but I can without a doubt say I've learned more about myself these past 2 months than I could have imagined. Being in a completely new scenario with a completely different sector of people really forces you to examine your personal beliefs and values. Who do you want to be, and how do you want to project that? What are you looking for out of the every day?

I love Spain, and perhaps more than Spain and Europe, I love the people here. I make fun because I feel like we're playing in the same field... it's fair game. So keep it up Spain... Keep running into trees, allowing your citizens to pee in public, setting new fashion trends... Whatever happens will happens. When have I EVER been able to say that?

Next entry: Granada and Barcelona, and that's a promise!

When in Rome... bring snow pants!

Now that we're getting to know one another a little better (slash, you're getting to know more about me than you could have ever dreamed...), I feel it's about time I profess a confession.

I have 4 slightly obscure fears in life. Small, not nearing phobias, but in the back of my mind at times none the less.

1.) Clowns.

2.) Rooms with an excessive amount of dolls.

3.) Driving off bridges in extremely icey or
windy conditions.

4.) Karma.

All completely legit, I think.

Unfortunately, this trip thus far (here's where this list becomes relevent) has solidified the fourth.

So at this time, I would like to publicly apologize to the city of Rome for...

-Pretending to be Catholic so I could see special rooms in the churches
-Considering buying a Rosary because I thought it was pretty...
-Purchasing a blessed Saint charm instead
-Sneaking pictures of the Sistine Chapel
-Taking pills in the Vatican
-Eating all of your gelato

And in return Rome, I expect next time you...

-Don't snow.
-Don't shut down because of snow.
-Don't charge me to sit down.
-Don't introduce me to strange men who like to lead me in the completely wrong direction.
-Don't mess up my knees.

Now that we've come to this new arrangement, I feel I'm ready to talk about my trip...
(are you intrigued yet?)

So Courtney and I left for Rome around 4am Thursday morning. We were told to arrive (quite unneccesarily) an hour and a half before our flight because there were problems with our "American" credit cards. What I love about the airport: everyone gets in line to board the plane about half an hour before boarding is called. As if they don't call you by rows or as if the airplane would leave without you should you sit until your row is called. After boarding, I legitimately sat down, buckled my seat belt, and passed out using my coat for a blanket before the plane even took off.

Getting from the airport to the hostel was quite an ordeal. I have never appreciated Madrid's public transportation system more. I have also never appreciated being able to speak a country's language more. While many do speak English in Rome, you first have to find them, and then attempt to understand them.

We checked into our hostel, and went to a relatively cheap *but delicious* restaurant. Another strike for Europe: you have to pay to sit down (don't you dare try to trick me Europe... you may not have 'tipping' but I'm still paying for it!) in many restaurants. Additionally, bread and water will probably be brought to your table (how kind!), and you will then be charged for it (jerks!).

Anyway, after dinner, we headed to the Colloseum, where I proceeded to take approximately 100 pictures. I will say that surprisenly *to me* Europe has made me actually grow much more appreciative of many aspects of my life in America. On that note however, I will also say that Europe's history and architecture is wayyy cooler. (Sorry America). My entire trip consisted of me reminding myself that "No Breanne, you are not on a movie set."


The Colloseum (top picture, while the one to the left is the Fountain of Trevi) is virtually across the street from the Roman Forum (picture above to right), which we attempted to visit, but were led astray by some Italian man on the street. (Let me preface that while the Forum was virtually across the street, the entrance, as per usual, involves a maze and scavanger hunt.)

By the time we made it through the labyrinth, the forum was closed. We opted instead to go to the Capitoline Museum which had a ton of statues, paintings and artifacts from well, the beginning of time? Dinner consisted of free pasta provided by the hostel.

We then determined it necessary to find gelato. Here's where Europe tricks you, yet again...

You can find Gelato in approximately every third stand slash store slash restaurant, and it really seems like a great deal... ¿¡2 euros!? You then must ask the waiter ¨How much to eat it inside¨ (because mind you, it's like 30 degrees outside), and are told that for the fantastic price of 17 euros, you may eat it inside in a glass cup. But don't worry, it's bigger than the to go size.

Needless to say, it took us 17 gelaterías to find 1 that allowed it's customers to sit inside for less than a sixth of the plane ticket. Post gelato activities included... tiramisu (you're only in Rome once?) and heading to bed around 10pm.

Because our tickets for the Forum were only good for 2 days, we attempted to head back Friday morning. Unfortunately, Rome had other plans in store for us... We woke up to a mixture of snow and rain in the morning that seemed to let up by our departure... WRONG.

In an attempt to defeat the weather, Courtney bought the most beautiful fuzzy blue mittens (perhaps beautiful is not quite the right word;)?) and I bought an umbrella that broke within 5 minutes. Of course, the Rome won, and by the time we reached the Forum I was a) drenched from the initial rain and lack of umbrella and b) freezing from rain that had decided to turn into a blizzard and my lack of warm clothes (so much for the 50 and sunny prediction... I could be a better forecaster than weather.com!)

Apparently for Italy, this was AWESOME though. It hadn't snowed in 25 years, and a blizzard was unheard of in many Italians' lifetimes. Everyone was running out of their offices and stores to take pictures. Drivers were putting chains on their tires. Ambulances were everywhere. And, ¡que suerte!, they closed the Forum approximately 5 minutes after our entry.

As you may or may not be aware of, dryers are virtually non existent in this continent. After unsuccessfully attempting to dry our clothes with blow dryers, we made the adventerous decision to grab a delicious pasta lunch and head to the Spanish steps. Thankfully Europe began to forgive us our many trespasses, and the weather let up (for real this time). The day also emcompassed the Iglesia de Santa María, Pantheon, Parliament building (still not entirely sure what this building was, to be honest... it had an exhibit of salvaged art from all around the city as well as an exhibit of artifacts from Auschwitz...), Piazza Navona, and explorations of the many various streets and surrounding neighborhoods.

Saturday, we made the trek to the Vatican. The entire outskirt was incredible, but I did wish I had had a little bit more historical insight into Catholicism before I visited.

Regardless, the area, including but not limited to St. Peters and the Vatican Museum (which houses rooms upon rooms of artwork and artifacts) was absolutely amazing.

I will say, that it was a really interesting experience to see such a touristy monument also used (at the same time) as a spiritual monument. There were people confessing, attending mass, praying, and there were also people snapping silly photos in front of statues, buying souveniers at gift shops, etc. Some traveled thousands of miles for the Vatican's religious significance, others for it's historical significance, others for it's tourist appeal...

Speaking of tourist appeal... Courtney and I must have made quite an impression on the Chinese tourist group, because 15 of them asked to take a picture with us.

After the hike through the Vatican, we grabbed lunch at another cute sy family Italian Restaurant. We eventually forced ourselves (ha!) to grab gelato at Gioletti, which promised 70 flavors... We explored the Fountain of Trevi, and opted, for one last time in Rome, to throw ourselves into another scavanger hunt.

Courtney's ¨Guide to Europe on Budget¨ book recommended this bar that offered a free buffet with drink purchase. Finding the bus stop that we were supposed to get off at was an obstacle course in and of itself. We were on the bus, going the wrong way, being told 3 different things by 19 different people.

Finding the bar from the bus stop proved even more treacherous. After walking around for an hour, asking 13 people about this mysterious street, attempting to read maps without names, and walking past the goal at least twice, we finally found it. Upon walking in, realizing drinks were 10 euros and the buffet was lukewarm rice and salad, we opted for a different restaurant.

All in all, I had an absolutely amazing time. While I feel like I could have spent another year in Rome, and not be done with it, I feel like after walking and exploring over 16 hours each day, we did everything we possibly could have for the time we were there.

We shared a dorm style hostel with five guys and a girl from various parts of the world (Finland, Mexico, Turkey, Poland, Portugal, Chile, Taiwan, etc.) (Some of the people switched some nights, in case you were a math major and were counting countries). We were complimented on our accent (and this time, I know it wasn't my English!) and the boys thought it was so adorable that we said ¨Good night¨ to everyone before we went to bed (you're welcome Wisconsin, we're making a great impression!)

By the time of our departure I must say, I was ready to return to my new home away from home: Madrid.

I'll share more about this past week (move in to the new apartment, adventures in the Complutense and dance parties in the kitchen) in the next entry...

Until then... (Leaving you yet again at the altar Alex...)

¨Las Malinas?¨

While I am far from reaching expert status as far as the city of Madrid is concerned (just ask el Sabio), I had for some reason, envisioned the end of this tease of a scavenger hunt coming to an end soon. I've been here for four weeks now (which is still near impossible to believe), and figured perhaps Europe had thrown its worst at me by now.

I've conquered the Metro, learned how to open at least half of the doors, accustomed myself to bread with every meal, signed up for classes, found an apartment, gotten a job, discovered the one and lonely ballet school in Madrid, learned 78.9% of the characters on the Spanish keyboard and managed to not get mugged (yet).

But I must have been inhaling one too many pot fumes from the Metro because I completely forget that this is indeed Spain. SPAIN. Definition: country of assorted nonsense.


Obstacle course take 1!

So Thursday Courtney and I decided to make the adventerous hike through Chueca. Our program had given us small maps of many of the ¨zones¨ (if you will) of Madrid with nice restaurants, museums, landmarks, etc. marked. My (our) goal was to go through each map before mid semester, and lucky Chueca was picked out of the hat for Thursday.

Only Spain would give us a map with 3 destinations (the 3 we had starred to explore, mind you) that no longer exist. We did however find the Owl themed bar and gay discoteca we encountered one of our first nights here (get excited). Courtney was almost as excited to discover a store with movies and books (it's more rare here than you would think). Upon walking around in said store, we realized that it was perhaps not quite the genre we were going for, and walked out to actually look at the sign. As it appears, we accidently attempted to find movies and books in a gay sex shop. Common mistake.


This week brought a few more firsts... I will attempt to elaborate where necessary.

Tried authentic Italian gelato. (Increíble).


Talked to el Sabio (not actually a first, but it must be mentioned as it was OBVIOUSLY the highlight of my week, ladies...).

Saw Avatar. One hundred times better than my expectations led me to believe.

Got stuck in the Metro approximately 1 minute after the subway left my first stop... Envision you're in Madrid, in a train... Humidity is at 80%, train capacity is at 200%, you're sick, on your way to class, and the train stops. Lights go off.

For 25 minutes.

Tried Spanish medication. (Quite possibly the grandest adventure of the semester). I was given dissolving pills, some weird white powder gel that turns orange when mixed with water and a nasal spray.

Side effects: giggles, light staring contests and passing out.

Got lost for an extended period of time.

**I believe this requires an explanation so you can fully understand how difficult it can be to maneuver yourself around the city (especcially when you are already as directionally challenged as myself). So, I had to teach English for the first time on Monday. Canterbury English gave me a map that at first glance, appeared fairly self explanatory. Upon actually leaving the Metro stop I was directed to get off at, I realized that very few street names were actually labeled on said map. Fortunately I had the address for the house I needed to go to and after asking, at the very least, without exaggeration, 17 people, where this street could possibly be, was given some of the following instructions which I will attempt to translate here:

Take a right, then walk approximately 10 to 20 minutes depending on speed before asking someone else.

I have no idea.

Take el Calle del Prado.

El Calle del Prado does not exist.

Take a right.

Take your second right.

You've gone way too far.

Follow me.

No clue, sorry.

Ummm... well let me take a look at the map... *Pause* Okay, I think it's this way. (I am convinced it's other way). *Yelling, at this point* NO, this way! (By the way, I was right).

Oh, you have to go past this bridge and around this park.

Go under the highway.

Upon finally finding the correct street approximately 45 minutes later, I anxiously begin looking for piso number 8. Unfortunately, the street numbers ended at 12.

After asking another 6 strangers (instructions varied about as much as the previous set)
Apparently (obviously), you go through an intersection, go around a corner, and the street running parallel (for half of its duration) has the same name. Number 8 can be found in said part. Relief was not to come (yet) as once I finally entered the correct complex, I had to go through 6 doors to find the right building and right door. Upon finding the right door, I was instructed to leave (I foolishly assumed it because I was at the wrong house, but as it turns out, the woman wanted to show me where the magic lights were... well maybe next time, don't say ¨No, over there!¨... Just a thought).

Found my very first Chino... If you believe this sounds slightly derogatory, you are indeed slightly correct. Chinos, as I've discovered, are these random stores found supposedly everywhere (although, it's taken me legitamately 1 month to find one... they're definitely pulling a Hogwarts on muggle me). They are generally run by Chinese people, and have anything from nailpolish to food to bagged clothes to dolls... You name it, it is probably there.


Definite highlight of the week?

I was asked by, get ready for this, 2 older women if I was from Madrid... AND got into an arguement with a man because he was asking me details about a store I had never heard of and would not believe me that I was not Spanish (because apparently, if you're Spanish, you should know Madrid like the back of your hand?).
Favorite thing about Madrid thus far?

Everyone sings, all the time... in the metro, in the streets, in their homes. For once, a city that supports life as a musical as much as I do.

For some reason (typical of my luck), my internet has decided to no longer allow me to add pictures. Perhaps this may be difficult in discerning the following fashion favorites, but perhaps, on the other hand, the more left to your imagination, the better.

The male in Madrid is often sported with *please envision* a mullet esc top and rat tail dreds. I have attempted to photograph this new movement, but unfortunately, the Spanish are for some reason stranger camera shy.

Tights under shorts.

High top sneakers for ladies and gentleman alike.

Crotched shirts.

Scrunchies.

Themed belts.

The sch-ress (is it a shirt or is it a dress?)

Their choices in art also interesting (please refer to picture on right... This is, believe it or not hanging up in my current room...).

Needless to say, I'm definitely fitting in.

Well, I hate to disappoint, but it's past my bed time. My mysterious Spanish drugs are kicking in.

Next stop: ROMA!

"The soup cannot tolerate the movement of the table..."

This past year, I've begun to question my role, my purpose in life...

Mostly, because many incidents have made me wonder if my life is in fact, actually a movie (a comedy of sorts) or reality. Because really, some of the events are in fact so strange, and the characters so bizarre that one could only find them juxtaposed in a film.

This trip to Spain has coupled the comedic occurances of my life with a scavenger hunt. I am now absolutely convinced that this semester is actually a surprise reality show... "The Greatest Race" meets "The Truman Show" meets "Always Sunny in Philadelphia."


For example...

Let's say, you would like to print a document. In many states, you would simply, turn on your computer, ensure that it is connected to your printer, and press print. If ink levels are not sufficient or you forgot to buy paper at Office Max, your roommate, or school, or neighbor or dog definitely has a printer you could use.

In Spain however, printing a document borders looking for the Holy Grail.

First of all, for some reason, Spaniards enjoy taking approximately 30.932 minutes to explain how to get to a locutorio 3 blocks away. Interesting stories about where they were concieved, where their cat was vaccinated or where their brother's friend's uncle's godfather's daughter used to play are expectedly thrown in while seemingly crucial points such as street names and number of blocks are often left out or thrown in so randomly you cannot possibly string them together. But by the way, it's super facil to get there.

So, after 3 attempts at recieving directions, attempt 1 at finding a printer was made.

Store 1... Unsuccessful. No longer there.

Attempt 4 at asking for directions to another locutorio via stranger on street... More successful.

Store 2... Unsuccessful. Out of business.

Attempt 5 through 9 at asking for directions... Less successful. Eventually a map was draw to explain a location a straight shot literally 3 blocks away.

Store 3... Seemingly successful. In the correct location. Open. Able to plug in flash drive.

Unfortunately, they were out of tonor.

Attempt 10 at asking for directions, slightly more successful.

Store 4... open, toner, ink, CHECK.

Only downside... we had to sit next to middle aged highly intoxicated creepy man who suffered greatly from unsuccessful attempts to talk into the computer chord.

I wish I could tell you that this obstacle course esc activity is saved for rainy days, but it instead, consumes the majority of most of my days here.

Fortunately, this incident in particular worked out for the best. The above disaster was required to print bus tickets for a trip to Cuenca this past weekend. After barely, and I mean *barely* making the bus, 12 of us arrived safely in Cuenca (a small city about 2 and a half hours away from Madrid).

Surprises that Spain is constantly providing:
*2 single beds for 4 boys (after careful consolation with the manager, we were told that a double room included 2 double beds... suitable for 4 people... perk 1 to being short!)
*24 hour hostels that are actually locked after 2am


Perks to the weekend:
*Incredible mountains with even more amazing sunsets viewed from the top
*Largest Contemporary Art Museum in Spain
*Tour of la Ciudad Encantada (the Enchanted City) with our very own VIP party bus (minus the booze)
*Free shots for being awesome... if you go to a sketchy Chinese Restaurant, free ¨happy teeth¨ gum, rings and I LOVE NY keychains
*Free food with every drink purchase
*Dancing with inanimate objects

Overall, a fairly fun and successful weekend.

The week itself was not too shabby either. I signed up for classes, found an apartment (quite possibly two of the most stressful jobs under my belt!), and went to 1 euro Wednesdays at Montaditos with some lovely ladies. 1 euro Wednesday meaning all drinks and food were 1 euro.

Wednesday we also made an adventerous trip to McDonalds where their McFlurries (please pronounce correctly Americans, it's MIC Flurry) are in fact better than ours.

Yesterday was first actual day of classes. I hear of so many students who say studying abroad rarely encompasses actually going to class. Well, NONE OF THEM CAME TO MADRID. I am definitely in for an interesting semester... And have a feeling I'll have a difficult time sitting still for such an extended period of time (classes are an hour and a half here... and do not include dance or discussions... 99% lame).


Highlight of the day: Our professor was explaining how difficult it can be to read Cervantes... His suggestion-read with a few drinks by your bed side.

I know I promised a few fashion highlights this episode, but I think I'll save them for my next entry, seeing as I'm starting to get sick and have a feeling I won't have much else to write about this week.

In addition, I have a blog on the way dedicated to El Sabio... Stay tuned!

More Adventures in Shoe Country

With class registration approaching tomorow, I felt it only necessary to procrastinate the process further by updating my Nobel Winning blog...

The weekend flew by (as per usual). But I encountered two concepts completely unheard of in the majority of Madrid:

1) Two nights in a row full of 7 hours of sleep.

2) A bar without smoking.

While you recover from shock, I'll enlighten you with a few more activities provided for me this weekend...

Saturday, as you may remember (please take careful notes so I do not have to repeat myself in the future, thank you), we (for future reference, at least for the next two weeks, please assume 'we'=Courtney, my roommate, and I... I'm quickly acclimating to the Spainard's way of shortening every sentence/word) went to a Workshop for 'Wanna-be' English teachers.

I have many regrets about the following sequence of events-but perhaps the biggest is that no footage exists of the afternoon... I will try to explain the out-of-the-world experience I encountered, but I guarantee that the day was much stranger than can be re-told or imagined.

We arrived at the building complex approximately 10 minutes before the start of class to find the entire building locked. Right around 4, when the class was schedule to begin, a man surprised us from behind, and let us into the building... We had high hopes that he was our instructor, but to our dismay, he unlocked and entered a different office. Eventually the instructor did show up however, with a confused look on his face as he was supposedly only given an 'emergency' key, and that the director of the program was supposed to have let us in. So this long nailed, grey pony-tailed man called the director with hopes of obtaining some sort of information with regards to the classroom we were supposed to use, who we were supposed to pay for the class, etc. etc. We ended up (without his reply) moving to a small conference table suited for approximately 6 students (please keep in mind, there were 17 signed up for the class).
30 minutes later (more or less) the director called... It must have completely slipped his mind to a) call back period, b) call sometime between when he arrived and saw 10 students standing outside and 30 minutes after, c) ring the buzzer to the complex, and d) bring his key to the office he owns. He eventually made it inside, gave us a quick schpeel about the company and left.

We proceeded to then spend 2 hours reviewing "How To" lists such as: "How to Make People Like You," "How to be Successful in Business," "How to Get People to Agree With You," and "How to Change People Without Them Knowing." We then had to ask questions on index cards, about half of which were answer-able by the instructor.

All in all, a few informative day.

Fortunately Saturday night was salvaged by an absent señora and great friends.

Mother-less nights in Spain are exciting for 6 reasons:

1) Long showers.

2) Shoes become unncessary.

3) 2 euro bottles of white wine in water glasses.

4) Sweat pants in the house.

5) Loud crappy music.

6) Dessert without judgement.

After said celebrations, we met up with a few friends in La Latina... We began the ordeal at what I like to call, "Sports Bar." I have this terrible tendency to believe that my taste buds have the capacity to change at alarmingly quick rates... For example: I've never liked green olives. And yet, every time one is presented to me (i.e. Saturday night) I have this feeling that simply, perhaps, I will actually like it this time. Another popular favorite "perhaps I'll like this the 100th time I've tried it" is cantalope. It gets me EVERY TIME.

Moving on... So after watching others eat olives, we went to a small bar a little farther from the Metro Stop and ordered some delicious, and more importantly, *cheap* sangria. The boys of course had their manly beer. Despúes, vamos al otro bar that, ready for this, not only did not allow smoking bbbuuttt you could also RENT MOVIES THERE... I think. The whole concept was a bit confusing (although, my feet will probably look normal before Spain actually makes sense to me), and the whole language/noise barrier didn't help.

Another absolutely incredible contribution that this bar has made to my life in Madrid thus far: literally the BEST icecream I have ever had in my life. Swiss, strawberry, heavenly...

Sunday continued to bring great news. I went to my very first European Starbucks (adventerous, I know). But, please refer to the picture below for the Spain's interpretation of Breanne and Courtney:

After consuming leche coming from a box, we walked around Arguelles and made our way to Sol to check out the Rebajas (super huge sales in Spain once a year). I found some 3 euro shirts (what a grand día) and we eventually headed home.

Today I drew a few masterpieces during class, stressed myself out about choosing classes (it's quite strange actually having a choice in the classes you can take) and ate a lot of French Beans (some strange hybrid of our version of green beans and sugar snap peas which filled an entire plate).

I've begun to take note of a few of Madrid's curiosities, as well as many of the fashion trends soon to come to the US. Pictures and tips to come.

"Otro helgado por favor..?"

I'm baaaacck!

After how long it took me to finally write my first entry, you're probably shocked to see another on your computer screen. But, here I am (constantly keeping you on your toes... anxiously awaiting the next blog from España...)

Perhaps also surprising is the fact that I am *still* alive and well in the smelly city of Madrid. (Spain I am sorry, but it's true... You have a strange odor of either garbage, smoke, strong cologne and/or perfume or some strange combination of the above). But regardless... I am still here. Not in love yet-but, there's always the possibility of divorce in 5 months.

Monday we had the morning off, and Courtney and I went shopping. Perhaps this means I'm not a real girl, but I'm not usually a fan of shopping, and I'm especcially not a fan of shopping in Europe for two reasons:

1) Here "shopping" generally consists of aimlessly walking around looking at random supposedly 'cute' things. I'm half girl in that I don't mind shoping if I have specifics in mind that I need to find and perhaps more importantly, dinero, but I HATE looking around aimlessly.

2) I'm a firm believer that Europe tries to TRICK you, and I ALMOST fall for it every time! 15 euros, ¡increíble!.. I then plug this number into my handy-dandy conversion calculator (mi mente) to find out that they once again lied to me.

Regardless, I had a surprisenly nice time out at Sol. Afterwards, we grabbed some small sandwhiches (tengo un bocadillo con queso) at a local bakery and went to Orientation.

Another thing that amazes me about Spaniards... I swear that they can read the future. And not just the psychics on the streets... There are times in which people enter the Metro from atop and randomly start sprinting... They somehow (and this is what fascinates me) know that the Metro is about to stop. What further intrigues me is that the Metro comes every 5 minutes (10 at the most) and everyone a) races down the escalator (apparently I was wrong in assuming escalators=relaxing) and b) dives into the car.

But quite possibly the strangest thing, is that Spaniards are always late!

So you can read the future and sprint like a track star down the stairs, and yet still not make it to the building on time?

Anyway... So, we learned a lot at our (perhaps 3rd?) General Orientation. I will share a few tips with you at this time:

1) Do not worry about turning down the beso greeting or good-bye... especcially if the man has a beard (a-because he's sketchy and b-because it's scratchy... totally made up the sketchy part).

2) If you want to try any form of drugs, please go to Amsterdam. You are advised to avoid the following (including, but not limited to): smoking pot with other students in the cafeteria and snorting coke in the bathroom with the ladies.

3) Use condoms. Apparently Spain has either the highest or second highest rate of HIV in Europe.

4) Spanish men are not afraid to hit you back.

Needless to say, the Orientation practically glorified Spain. After I signed a contract to live here for the rest of my life, we went home and I basically went to bed.

Tuesday brought gifts of a 2 and 1/2 hour tour of Old Madrid and, rain (just another example of Europe lieing to me... Madrid, some water crisis you are in-it's rained half of the time I've been here). On the bright side, we saw a ton of incredible lugares including the Palacio Real (where the Moorish fortress used to be), the Plaza Mayor (central square in Madrid), the Palacio de Cibeles ('town hall'), and the Opera. We also saw the President of the region, who offered me her place when I graduated (world domination, here I come!).

The tour really solidified not only how much I hate being outside in cold rain, but many of the reasons why I'm here. It also reminded me of Spain's incredible random-ness (perhaps I was born in the wrong country). It fascinates me that you have the juxtaposition of these amazing historical monuments coupled with sex shops and English Department stores (i.e. Cortes Inglés).
After the tour a few of us grabbed lunch at Galetaria 4D Caffetteria and went to our Cursillo de enero (mini-course). Spain tricked me yet again in that I was under the impression I was ordering a shrimp meal for seven euros, which instead, ended up being 7 mini shrimp. To lighten the load, at least my cafe con leche had a heart engraved in the foam on top. The Spaniards are full of class.

The rest of Tuesday brought yet another delicious dinner, and churros, purros and chocolate at San Giles... By the way, HIGHLY recommended (and I don't even like chocolate... which I realize, makes me even less of a girl, but rest assured, it's true...)

Wednesday brought *real* regalos. We had Orientation with regards to classes con some estudiantes from the Universidad Complutense. I was much too tired to concentrate on the Spanish, so hopefully I will not be more of a mess than I am already anticipating come the start of classes. After Orientation, we had lunch with all program participants at Hylogui. While we were designated to the outcast table (mentor-less and with staff), I could essentially write this entire blog about my delicious experience. Because I know this entry will be long enough already, I will attempt to limit the description to 3 sentences (here goes nothing...)

Not only was the food free (probably another lie-I'm sure it came from our program costs), but there was a ton of it... We began with individual loafs of unlimited bread (una cosa frustrante-bread etiquette is ALWAYS a surprise... in some places, it's 'un-classy' to put oil and vinegar on your bread even though they will give it to you. In others they will give you a plate. In others they expect you to to put it directly on your bread. So, buena suerte.) (By the way, anything in parenthesis does not count towards my sentence limit). So like I said (continuation of sentence 2), we began with a ton of bread and were then introduced to a family style salad/appetizer tray, fried calamari, a Spanish Omlette of asparagus, mushrooms, ham and some other random incredible surprises, Swordfish, icecream, and unlimited wine. While we may have been assigned to the outcast table, it paid off in the end, because we attempted to finagle our way into a second helping of free icecream, and, were very successful. (One win for Spain!)

After lunch, we came home, eventually made our way to view a piso, ate dinner (I'm learning they LOVE puree of leftovers here) and met some friends out. We went to a small bar called Urgullos, enjoyed some sangria (slightly addicted...) and made our way out to the Sol area. So in Puerta del Sol in Spain, clubs send their employees to the area to hand out flyers and get people to come to their bars. We were lucky enough to have 2 muchachos representing a karaoke bar with promises of free karaoke and sangria approach us. We gave in (mostly because the bar was called "Cher's") to find that we were initially, the absolute only people in the bar. The evening soon included dancing with a crazy 60 year old drunk man with huge sunglasses who loved Wisconsin and singing a duet to Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart.

Once Thursday quickly approached us, we went to view a few apartments (complete disaster), purchased some fresh fruit and bread from a few local markets, and went to our mini-curso.

Thursday night we had the brilliant idea of attending Joy, a popular discoteca. We first grabbed some sangria at Montaditos where some French man complimented me on my 'very nice accent.' I am fairly positive he was refering to my English accent, but I would like to think he loved my Spanish accent, and am sticking to this conclusion. Joy brought dancing with a lack of personal space, some silly Germans, and over pretencious security guards.

Friday, with approximately 4 hours of sleep, which has become my norm, we attended the Prado. Absolutely incredible... I'm a huge fan of learning history indirectly. While the tour was over 2 and 1/2 hours, we still didn't make it through even half of the museum. Dang it Pablo! We also saw a play put on by the students in Reunidas (hilarious).

By the way, on the note of other people, now that I've shared a little bit about myself, perhaps you would like to tell me a little bit about you?

No?

That's fine I wasn't that interested in the first place.

So back to me...

I'm still missing people, peanut butter and not wearing shoes. But, I'm not missing winter or sorostitutes (we only have real prostitutes here). I've become addicted to baked goods from the store down the street (perhaps partially because I cannot subcomb to my baking addiction here until I have my own place), and having coffee made for me every morning.

I'm about to head off to a training session (apparently they trust me enough to have me teach English over here), but I have high hopes of keeping up better with this blog in the future (wish me luck).

When is the next entry coming?!

I'll keep you in suspense... ;)