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.
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.
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