Paco made us memorize a poem. We were going to have to present it to the class the next Monday. So I started memorizing. If you ever thought memorizing poetry was difficult, now try it in another language. Quite comical I might add.
I kept repeating the first lines over and over "Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla. Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla. Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla."
When I felt like I knew the whole thing, I went to the living room to ask my Madre if I could say it aloud to her. She sat and listened. Corrected me every line. She would tell me to repeat it. Again. She would. Again. Again. We did this forever. Meanwhile, Fuen sat next to us, watching TV and ignoring us to the best of her abilities.
Finally, as I thought I was sure I knew it, I asked Fuen to listen to me say it one final time. She just said no. She wanted to watch television. haha At least she was honest.
I was first to say it in class (not my choosing, thanks Paco) and thought I did a pretty good job. Although, Christy did prompt me twice.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Elevators are not for students
Christy and I had this great idea. It was so great. We got in the elevator, and went to the top floor. We were gonna race. She, being the one who didn't want to exert much energy decided to stay the route of the elevator, I, was going to run. I waited until the door finally shut all the way, and I took off running. Down one flight, down the second, holy cow...the fast I ran, the less accurate my steps had become. Down the third, down the fourth...How the HECK did she beat me!? I was haulin' butt to get down those stairs! Whatever. She won.
We got to class the next day, only to be lectured about elevators being designated solely for professors. Whoops. We just looked at each other and laughed. Maybe the class didn't know why our professor was so upset...but we could take a good guess.
Oh, I got my first letter from home! A big shout out to Aunt Linda!!! You have no idea how that made my day!!! My second came today. Thanks Momma! :)
P.s. I get really ticked off when kids show up...I don't know, let's say thirty minutes late to class. They walk in, either laughing, smiling, or loud. Right in front of the teacher, too. So disrepectful. Just sit down and stop being so rude already.
Oh, and another cool thing...the way the say stuff like wow or my goodness is actually "madre mi" which means "my mother." Weird.
One more thing, when we were in Salamanca the other week, I forgot that I took a picture of Queen Isabel for my Dad. Ever since the seventh grade, everyday I would come home - straight after Spanish class - and say "Hola Padre" to my Dad. "Hello Dad." His response was always the same "Hola Isabel." When he was studying Spanish as a boy, their Spanish books always had their practice dialogue start with phrases or greetings by stating that exact same thing. So, he calls me Isabel. :) I took this picture for him.
ISABEL Y FERNANDO
We got to class the next day, only to be lectured about elevators being designated solely for professors. Whoops. We just looked at each other and laughed. Maybe the class didn't know why our professor was so upset...but we could take a good guess.
Oh, I got my first letter from home! A big shout out to Aunt Linda!!! You have no idea how that made my day!!! My second came today. Thanks Momma! :)
P.s. I get really ticked off when kids show up...I don't know, let's say thirty minutes late to class. They walk in, either laughing, smiling, or loud. Right in front of the teacher, too. So disrepectful. Just sit down and stop being so rude already.
Oh, and another cool thing...the way the say stuff like wow or my goodness is actually "madre mi" which means "my mother." Weird.
One more thing, when we were in Salamanca the other week, I forgot that I took a picture of Queen Isabel for my Dad. Ever since the seventh grade, everyday I would come home - straight after Spanish class - and say "Hola Padre" to my Dad. "Hello Dad." His response was always the same "Hola Isabel." When he was studying Spanish as a boy, their Spanish books always had their practice dialogue start with phrases or greetings by stating that exact same thing. So, he calls me Isabel. :) I took this picture for him.
ISABEL Y FERNANDO
Monday, July 12, 2010
La Corona
In Spain, royalty do not actually wear the crown. It sits on a table next to them.
Edu says it's a French thing to wear it. Who knew. I thought it was a royalty thing.
Edu says it's a French thing to wear it. Who knew. I thought it was a royalty thing.
Shoes, again.
One day I came home from school. I was tired. So, I went to go put my shoes up.
A week or so ago, my Madre told me to keep a pair of shoes in the little scrub room they have right next to the door. I can drop off my slippers just before I put my shoes on to walk out the door.
Well, she literally meant A SINGLE pair. I guess I didn't realize it but I had three pairs in the scrub room. The second I walked in the door, she told me to take my shoes to my bedroom, they do not belong in their like that. All messy. She was not happy with me. Oh well. I have screwed up the shoe thing enough, what's one more time?
Today, she told me my bed was ugly. Messy. Go fix it.
Oh my. Good thing she likes me. She just doesn't like my housekeeping skills.
A week or so ago, my Madre told me to keep a pair of shoes in the little scrub room they have right next to the door. I can drop off my slippers just before I put my shoes on to walk out the door.
Well, she literally meant A SINGLE pair. I guess I didn't realize it but I had three pairs in the scrub room. The second I walked in the door, she told me to take my shoes to my bedroom, they do not belong in their like that. All messy. She was not happy with me. Oh well. I have screwed up the shoe thing enough, what's one more time?
Today, she told me my bed was ugly. Messy. Go fix it.
Oh my. Good thing she likes me. She just doesn't like my housekeeping skills.
Just in the backseat
I was sitting on my bed. Reading my book, intensely. I was trying to finish that chapter so that I could get on skype and talk to Chris. Just as I was turning the page, my Madre knocks on the door. "Entra" I call across the room. She comes in, to ask me if I want to take a walk with her. Of course I jump up and follow her out of the room. We walk out of the house and head to the street where... my Padre is waiting with the car...Did I hear her correctly? I asked again. Felisa? Are we going on a walk? She replies back with yes, in a car.
I ask where we are going, but neither one of them gives me a real answer. We pass mountains, plains, horses, houses, power lines, more fields, etc. By this time, I am starting to think maybe they are trying to sell me to the traffickers? Maybe they really are getting sick of me and are trying to dump me off somewhere outside of Segovia, so I don't know how to get back to them...maybe. Or maybe we just pulled into a "pueblo" - which means little town - to check it out. Padre parks the car.
Come to find out...they are searching to buy a lot so they can build a summer home just outside of the city. They had me along for the ride. :) We got out, walked around, surveyed the plot Padre was contemplating over in his mind. He started to talk to my Madre about the qualities of the house, where they would lay the foundation, how it would face away from the sun to block heat, how the view was consistent, and so on. I couldn't help but think, what a man! No way do I even think like he was. I noticed all the similarities he had that were like Chris, knowing exactly how things would lay out. Let's just thank the Lord for Chris, because I have NO idea about that sorta thing. and Padre sure knows his stuff.
We got back in the car, and for the next twenty minutes, we drove around different pueblos so Madre could show me where her children lived now. On our way back, I noticed how such a "diligent" no..."forceful" driver my Padre was. Holy cow. Thanking the Lord again that I was wearing my seat belt. Yep. Those breaks work just fine, thanks for checking. He was a zippin and a zoomin everywhere! And, I am pretty sure he started to take us down a one way street, the wrong way. Just until my Madre proceeded loudly to inform him of his incorrect decision. (Please Lord do not let me grow up to fuss at my husband like she does her's.)
We finally headed back home. How sweet. Just the little family. Padre. Madre. and their own little American girl in the back seat.
Just as I am thinking how awesome it is that I am here with them, being such a part of their familiy, we park the car and then start walking...but not to our home. Oh Man. They really are going to sell me aren't they? Nope. We walk into a CANDY STORE! Madre tells me to pick something out! And if that's not enough, when I bring it to the counter, she tells me to go get more! What a day!
We walk out, with me, chomping on my new candy feeling 8 years old again, and in search for...nothing less than a bar. We sit down, and order beers. The irony of my situation made me laugh. Whatever, so what if I laughed out loud, they all think Americans are coo-coo anyway. But seriously, what a great day.
*Just some things to think about: While in the car, there were more American songs being played on the radio than Spanish ones. Yep. That's right. Americans have the trump to music. Oh, and cars. Americans can claim that, too. Thanks Henry Ford.*
I ask where we are going, but neither one of them gives me a real answer. We pass mountains, plains, horses, houses, power lines, more fields, etc. By this time, I am starting to think maybe they are trying to sell me to the traffickers? Maybe they really are getting sick of me and are trying to dump me off somewhere outside of Segovia, so I don't know how to get back to them...maybe. Or maybe we just pulled into a "pueblo" - which means little town - to check it out. Padre parks the car.
Come to find out...they are searching to buy a lot so they can build a summer home just outside of the city. They had me along for the ride. :) We got out, walked around, surveyed the plot Padre was contemplating over in his mind. He started to talk to my Madre about the qualities of the house, where they would lay the foundation, how it would face away from the sun to block heat, how the view was consistent, and so on. I couldn't help but think, what a man! No way do I even think like he was. I noticed all the similarities he had that were like Chris, knowing exactly how things would lay out. Let's just thank the Lord for Chris, because I have NO idea about that sorta thing. and Padre sure knows his stuff.
We got back in the car, and for the next twenty minutes, we drove around different pueblos so Madre could show me where her children lived now. On our way back, I noticed how such a "diligent" no..."forceful" driver my Padre was. Holy cow. Thanking the Lord again that I was wearing my seat belt. Yep. Those breaks work just fine, thanks for checking. He was a zippin and a zoomin everywhere! And, I am pretty sure he started to take us down a one way street, the wrong way. Just until my Madre proceeded loudly to inform him of his incorrect decision. (Please Lord do not let me grow up to fuss at my husband like she does her's.)
We finally headed back home. How sweet. Just the little family. Padre. Madre. and their own little American girl in the back seat.
Just as I am thinking how awesome it is that I am here with them, being such a part of their familiy, we park the car and then start walking...but not to our home. Oh Man. They really are going to sell me aren't they? Nope. We walk into a CANDY STORE! Madre tells me to pick something out! And if that's not enough, when I bring it to the counter, she tells me to go get more! What a day!
We walk out, with me, chomping on my new candy feeling 8 years old again, and in search for...nothing less than a bar. We sit down, and order beers. The irony of my situation made me laugh. Whatever, so what if I laughed out loud, they all think Americans are coo-coo anyway. But seriously, what a great day.
*Just some things to think about: While in the car, there were more American songs being played on the radio than Spanish ones. Yep. That's right. Americans have the trump to music. Oh, and cars. Americans can claim that, too. Thanks Henry Ford.*
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Las Palabras
Zamina mina éh éh (vengan, vengan, eh, eh)
Waka waka éh éh (tú lo haces, tú lo haces, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Anawam ah ah (soy yo, sí)
Waka waka éh éh (tú lo haces, tú lo haces, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Anawam ah ah (soy yo, sí)
Zamina mina éh éh (vengan, vengan, eh, eh)
Waka waka éh éh (tú lo haces, tú lo haces, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Porque esto es África
dJango éh éh (espera, eh, eh)
dJango éh éh (espera, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Anawam ah ah (soy yo, sí)
Palaces and Such
I guess I am just not all into the whole Museum thing. We went to La Granja yesterday...p.s. There were supposed to be horses...which there were not!
Anyway, I was bored out of my mind. I was standing in the building from around the 17th or 18th century, with murals, tapestries, busts, moldings, ceilings, and all sorts of crazy stuff, and it didn't interest me one bit.
Thank goodness we got to go outside and walk the grounds. That part was really cool. I felt like I was living a scene of Pride and Prejudice. Oh, and I bought chocolate in the palace. :)
We went to the movies last night, too. We caught the Line 7 bus to the Centro Commercial (Mall) and saw Prince of Persia. Despite a few scenes with people floating in the air all Matrix-style and what not, it was an awesome movie!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
How do you say "I just threw up on your floor." in Spanish? : /
: /
So...on Tuesday, I went back to mi casa around 3 p.m. I was just going to take a nap, a little nap. I woke up at 10 p.m. that night. It was dinner time. I sat with Fuen. We ate pasta. Well, Fuen ate pasta. I looked at it. Swirled it around my plate. Put a few pieces in, and never wanted to eat again. The food was fine. My belly was not.
I went back to my room. I did not finish dinner. I sat on my bed facebooking Heidi and Tk about not feeling well. Whoops. And then I puked. To be the most considerate of those who have weak stomachs, I missed the trashcan. I ran to the bathroom to clean myself up.
I then facebooked my professor asking him to tell my madre that I just threw up on her floor...no, the rug : ( I felt so sick. Right after, I went to the living room to tell Fuen and my madre that "He devuelto." I threw up. "pero, en el piso." Fuen understood this part, because she then made a really gross face. Yep, that's right. On the floor. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Not only was I feeling sick, I was feeling awkward. Not to mention, who likes to be sick when they are not at home with their mommy!?
My madre comes into the room to clean it up. Does she first look for the spot on the floor? No. Does she instantly clean it up? No. Does look straight at my feet and very sternly ask me why am I not wearing my house slippers? Yes.
Seriously? I just puked my stomach, and you are concerned with my house slippers? Good thing I am taking this entire trip in good humor. I apologized for not wearing my slippers, put them on, and then apologized for messing up her rug. What a night.
Well, of course, I am fine now, two days later...but she still will not let me drink cold things, nor will she let me eat katchup, mustard, fries, pork, cheese...you name it, and "it will upset my stomach." haha Oh well. At least she didn't try to throw me to the doctor this time.
P.s. I'm fine. It must have been a 24 hour bug. No harm. But, I am wearing my slippers even as we speak...
So...on Tuesday, I went back to mi casa around 3 p.m. I was just going to take a nap, a little nap. I woke up at 10 p.m. that night. It was dinner time. I sat with Fuen. We ate pasta. Well, Fuen ate pasta. I looked at it. Swirled it around my plate. Put a few pieces in, and never wanted to eat again. The food was fine. My belly was not.
I went back to my room. I did not finish dinner. I sat on my bed facebooking Heidi and Tk about not feeling well. Whoops. And then I puked. To be the most considerate of those who have weak stomachs, I missed the trashcan. I ran to the bathroom to clean myself up.
I then facebooked my professor asking him to tell my madre that I just threw up on her floor...no, the rug : ( I felt so sick. Right after, I went to the living room to tell Fuen and my madre that "He devuelto." I threw up. "pero, en el piso." Fuen understood this part, because she then made a really gross face. Yep, that's right. On the floor. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Not only was I feeling sick, I was feeling awkward. Not to mention, who likes to be sick when they are not at home with their mommy!?
My madre comes into the room to clean it up. Does she first look for the spot on the floor? No. Does she instantly clean it up? No. Does look straight at my feet and very sternly ask me why am I not wearing my house slippers? Yes.
Seriously? I just puked my stomach, and you are concerned with my house slippers? Good thing I am taking this entire trip in good humor. I apologized for not wearing my slippers, put them on, and then apologized for messing up her rug. What a night.
Well, of course, I am fine now, two days later...but she still will not let me drink cold things, nor will she let me eat katchup, mustard, fries, pork, cheese...you name it, and "it will upset my stomach." haha Oh well. At least she didn't try to throw me to the doctor this time.
P.s. I'm fine. It must have been a 24 hour bug. No harm. But, I am wearing my slippers even as we speak...
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Madrid - Oh how I miss Segovia
Gay pride parade. Big city. Lots of people. Weird people.
Not really the best time. We ended up leaving exhausted, tired, and ready to get back to Segovia. Sure, I enjoyed seeing the capital...the statues were cool, the shops were big, etc. But they always say there is no place like home...this has to apply even when you are studying abroad. Segovia, for right now IS home, and Madrid, is NOT.
It was actually really frustrating being there. The Gay pride parade was the biggest one Europe has even seen. Millions of people had to have been there. It was INSANITY! There were even people naked, with just their parts painted over. Boys kissing, piercings in and out of everybody part you could see, just plain craziness. I wanted to get out of there so bad. This was the difficult part. There were so many people everywhere that you could barely move.
Just like in Segovia, the roads are boardered with shops and apartments on top of those shops. So, as we would finally get to a clearing to try and take a back road out of the city to the metro...people from four or five stories up were throwing buckets of water from out of their windows. They were drenching people. The people on the side walks were getting soaked. Some were loving it. Some, like us, were not. We just wanted to get outta there. We waited until they would throw a ton of water out of the windows and then we BOOKED IT OUTTA THERE!
We fell asleep in the bus station - correction, I fell asleep - waiting for our bus the next day. Getting back to my bed in Segovia never felt so good. Maybe I really am just a small town girl after all?
The Metro
I have kept my cool for most of this trip. I say most of it, because last Saturday morning, I about lost it.
We meet at the Segovia bus station at 8:30 a.m. to make sure that we are all there and are positive about the bus we are about to get on. We leave at 9 a.m. and it takes us an hour to pull into the city. We get off, and walk into the station. This station is like the end all be all of stations. It houses the bus station, metro station, urban train station, and train station. (Yes, the last three are actually different things.) We have no idea how to get out of there.
So, we go to the nearest map. The only problem is...um..where exactly are we going? The only person that even thought to get the address of the hostel was Heidi. Thank God, literally, that she was with us. Or, we would have been in a mess.
We probably stand there for about twenty minutes. We walk up the steps. Down the steps. Up the steps. Down the steps. Up. Down. Up. Down. STOP ALREADY! Finally, Heidi, Derrick, Christy, and I figure out that we are supposed to take the metro to a "parada" (metro stop) near one of the roads that we will then have to take to get to our hostel. We, but complete and sheer luck, get on the correct metro. We had no idea how it worked, and did not realize that you cannot just jump on a metro with the color you are supposed to be on: the metros run in more or less two directions. We did not know that you have to get on the metro with the correct colored sign AND final destination written next to it. We were just lucky we got it right on our first try.
We are sitting on the metro, and waiting to get off at our next via point. The stop just previous to our stop, I see man push this round green button on the metro door...hm? That was weird. I wonder why he did that. So, I figure it probably opens the doors. So, I tell everyone that is with us (by the way, there was like 11 of us.) to please push the green button when the train comes to a stop. We need to get off at "Tribunal." I really do not want to miss our stop, and I am sitting in the back, far from the doors. We stop. And nobody moves. The doors do not open. I start saying again, "Please push the green button." They do not. "PLEASE PUSH THE DARN BUTTONS!!!" Nobody does. I am about to pop someone in the head by the time one of the girls finally pushes the button. The door opens. She walks off. The door shuts behind her. We took too long. Now our train is pulling out of the station, and one of our girls is left standing ALONE on a platform with not an idea in the world to where the rest of our group was headed. She is stranded. So, I, being the most intelligent, discerning, and responsible individual start running to the back of the train so I can still see her in the windows. I start signing to her in a caveman-like fashion to jump on the next metro and get off at the next stop. That is where we will be waiting for her.
I am pissed. The rest of the group, with the exception of my close Heidi, Derrick, and Christy, are completely clueless to the danger that this girl is in. Madrid is larger than Atlanta. Everything is on foot. Everybody has access to everywhere. She is an American, with a very limited amount of Spanish knowledge, and she is ALONE. Just waiting for the crazies, drug dealers, and traffickers to pick her up. Never see her again. I am not panicking. Like I said before, as the mature, responsible individual, I just get off the train as soon as possible and wait with the rest of my bone-headed group until the next train pulls in. I am so ticked off. We have no idea if this girl is going to be on the next train or not. Finally, it pulls into the station. She gets off, laughing loudly, and basically screaming in English. If we hadn't recieved much attention from the fact that we already just look American, we sure were getting it now. It's not even that I didn't want to look American, so much as the fact that I didn't want to look like a bunch of clueless, boisterous, rude, and inconsiderate bunch of hooligans that just so happen to be from America. What a coincidence, loud, obnoxious Americans? I hate that stereotype.
To conclude quickly, we proceeded to get mixed up in the metro station, again, finally got to our parada destination, looked at the map again, were given wrong directions, walked twenty minutes out of way to find the angel - sent directly from the Lord - that told us to turn around and walk 20 minutes in the opposite direction. Her name was Raquel. She took us back to the metro parada Sierra Guadalupe, where we got off in the first place. She then told us to take the 130 bus for four stops and then get off, we should see our road by then.
We get on the bus. We didn't know that we had to push the "stop" button, that just so happened to be on every railing inside the bus, for the bus to actually stop. So, our four stops, turned into one stop that just so happened to be about two stops past where we wanted to be. We get off. This really sweet Spanish woman tells us to get off and take the street to the left and follow it around until it comes to the road we want to turn on. So...we start walking. We kept walking. and walking. Finally, we just randomly turn onto a road that looks like we might be able to ask directions from someone. Turns out, we were standing right in front of our hostel. Not bad. It only took us 8 hours, losing one of our girls, backtracking almost an hour, and me about to lose my cool until we finally reached our destination. From now on, I will only travel with responsible adults.
This is a picture after we learned how to use the metro. No frustration here. Just dog-tired.
This smile is the "Thank the Lord we made it!" smile. This was taken from inside of our room at the hostel.
We meet at the Segovia bus station at 8:30 a.m. to make sure that we are all there and are positive about the bus we are about to get on. We leave at 9 a.m. and it takes us an hour to pull into the city. We get off, and walk into the station. This station is like the end all be all of stations. It houses the bus station, metro station, urban train station, and train station. (Yes, the last three are actually different things.) We have no idea how to get out of there.
So, we go to the nearest map. The only problem is...um..where exactly are we going? The only person that even thought to get the address of the hostel was Heidi. Thank God, literally, that she was with us. Or, we would have been in a mess.
We probably stand there for about twenty minutes. We walk up the steps. Down the steps. Up the steps. Down the steps. Up. Down. Up. Down. STOP ALREADY! Finally, Heidi, Derrick, Christy, and I figure out that we are supposed to take the metro to a "parada" (metro stop) near one of the roads that we will then have to take to get to our hostel. We, but complete and sheer luck, get on the correct metro. We had no idea how it worked, and did not realize that you cannot just jump on a metro with the color you are supposed to be on: the metros run in more or less two directions. We did not know that you have to get on the metro with the correct colored sign AND final destination written next to it. We were just lucky we got it right on our first try.
We are sitting on the metro, and waiting to get off at our next via point. The stop just previous to our stop, I see man push this round green button on the metro door...hm? That was weird. I wonder why he did that. So, I figure it probably opens the doors. So, I tell everyone that is with us (by the way, there was like 11 of us.) to please push the green button when the train comes to a stop. We need to get off at "Tribunal." I really do not want to miss our stop, and I am sitting in the back, far from the doors. We stop. And nobody moves. The doors do not open. I start saying again, "Please push the green button." They do not. "PLEASE PUSH THE DARN BUTTONS!!!" Nobody does. I am about to pop someone in the head by the time one of the girls finally pushes the button. The door opens. She walks off. The door shuts behind her. We took too long. Now our train is pulling out of the station, and one of our girls is left standing ALONE on a platform with not an idea in the world to where the rest of our group was headed. She is stranded. So, I, being the most intelligent, discerning, and responsible individual start running to the back of the train so I can still see her in the windows. I start signing to her in a caveman-like fashion to jump on the next metro and get off at the next stop. That is where we will be waiting for her.
I am pissed. The rest of the group, with the exception of my close Heidi, Derrick, and Christy, are completely clueless to the danger that this girl is in. Madrid is larger than Atlanta. Everything is on foot. Everybody has access to everywhere. She is an American, with a very limited amount of Spanish knowledge, and she is ALONE. Just waiting for the crazies, drug dealers, and traffickers to pick her up. Never see her again. I am not panicking. Like I said before, as the mature, responsible individual, I just get off the train as soon as possible and wait with the rest of my bone-headed group until the next train pulls in. I am so ticked off. We have no idea if this girl is going to be on the next train or not. Finally, it pulls into the station. She gets off, laughing loudly, and basically screaming in English. If we hadn't recieved much attention from the fact that we already just look American, we sure were getting it now. It's not even that I didn't want to look American, so much as the fact that I didn't want to look like a bunch of clueless, boisterous, rude, and inconsiderate bunch of hooligans that just so happen to be from America. What a coincidence, loud, obnoxious Americans? I hate that stereotype.
To conclude quickly, we proceeded to get mixed up in the metro station, again, finally got to our parada destination, looked at the map again, were given wrong directions, walked twenty minutes out of way to find the angel - sent directly from the Lord - that told us to turn around and walk 20 minutes in the opposite direction. Her name was Raquel. She took us back to the metro parada Sierra Guadalupe, where we got off in the first place. She then told us to take the 130 bus for four stops and then get off, we should see our road by then.
We get on the bus. We didn't know that we had to push the "stop" button, that just so happened to be on every railing inside the bus, for the bus to actually stop. So, our four stops, turned into one stop that just so happened to be about two stops past where we wanted to be. We get off. This really sweet Spanish woman tells us to get off and take the street to the left and follow it around until it comes to the road we want to turn on. So...we start walking. We kept walking. and walking. Finally, we just randomly turn onto a road that looks like we might be able to ask directions from someone. Turns out, we were standing right in front of our hostel. Not bad. It only took us 8 hours, losing one of our girls, backtracking almost an hour, and me about to lose my cool until we finally reached our destination. From now on, I will only travel with responsible adults.
This is a picture after we learned how to use the metro. No frustration here. Just dog-tired.
This smile is the "Thank the Lord we made it!" smile. This was taken from inside of our room at the hostel.
Just a few things to know when you come to Spain
The door knobs are in the middle of the doors.
You realize that communication has a lot less to do with actual oral sounds and a written language than it does with body language.
WEAR YOUR HOUSE SLIPPERS!
Learn the metro, bus, and train stations before you use them.
Get a map.
Elevators are TINY! Three to four people MAX...and that still means sniffing the armpit. They also stop really harshly. You get that weird sensation in your stomach as it lands on your floor.
The colloquial phrase for armpit is "El lugar de mala muerte" which translates to "The place of the worst death."
When you walk outside, just hope you are doing so just as the frutería next door is getting their supplies for the day. :) What a sweet smell to rush by you.
You realize that communication has a lot less to do with actual oral sounds and a written language than it does with body language.
WEAR YOUR HOUSE SLIPPERS!
Learn the metro, bus, and train stations before you use them.
Get a map.
Elevators are TINY! Three to four people MAX...and that still means sniffing the armpit. They also stop really harshly. You get that weird sensation in your stomach as it lands on your floor.
The colloquial phrase for armpit is "El lugar de mala muerte" which translates to "The place of the worst death."
When you walk outside, just hope you are doing so just as the frutería next door is getting their supplies for the day. :) What a sweet smell to rush by you.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Salamanca y Ávila - Playing Footsy with a Dead Guy
So sorry that I have not written in a few days. The days have been going by so quickly, and I have not had a moment to spare...unless you count all of my siestas adding up.
Last week, Tuesday to be exact, we went to Salamanca and Ávila on an excursíon. We were supposed to meet up at La Loba, which is this wolf statue right next to the Aquaducto. I was up and ready to go...it was just that my madre was not so enthusiastic about my having to leave so early in the morning. She was packing my lunch, and I had to wait to leave until she finished. If I was late, the bus would leave me, and I would have to find my own way to Salamanca...this didn't seem to bother her too much.
So, I finally grabbed my lunch and ran out the door. The bus ride took around two or so hours. We ALL slept. I feel like none of us have been getting enough sleep lately, and the siestas -well maybe this is just me- are not holding over too well.
When we got to Salamanca, our professors, Edu and Paco, were our personal tour guides. They know so much about the history of Spain and everything within it. It blows my mind. Maybe it's just because they are teachers...but they are really, really smart.
We visited a lot of old buildings and stuff in Salamanca, none of which really got my attention...the city is just big and open...nothing like Segovia. Maybe I am being partial. So, we went to the University of Salamanca...it is the oldest university in Spain...crazy! Salamanca is referred to as the city of students, because so many of the people in the city attend the university. Edu kept telling us some pretty crazy stories about Salamanca. Some of them are pretty awesome. Here are a few:
1. Salamanca used to be an all boys college back in the day, not to mention the oldest University in Spain. So...there was never fear of doing something in front of a girl that would embarrass someone...that being said...the bathrooms were kinda far from the class rooms...Edu says that the boys would just leave the classroom quickly, and go and pee on the walls in the hallway. (Don't forget this University is like ancient...now imagine peeing on the walls of something built by the Romans.) Then, they would run back to class. In an effort to stop this behavior, the administration began to have picture of Saints painted along these same walls, thinking that students would NOT pee on a Saint's face...I guess they thought wrong. The students would just try and scratch the paint of the walls so they didn't feel so badly about peeing on them.
2. In the winter, it gets really cold here. There was no heating systems back years ago to heat up the room before class. This is not to say that the students and staff at the University of Salamanca were not cleverly wise in figuring ways to keep heat in the classrooms. Edu told us that before classes would start, the poor students (barely able to pay for school) would get paid a little bit of money to just run circles in side the classrooms. Their body heat would stir up within the classroom enough to make it hot for the entire class period. Now that is what I call innovation. (Just be glad that today we receive scholarships, not runningships.)
3. Graduation from University is a very big deal here. When students graduate college, their friends throw them a series of parties that seem very much like bachelor or bachelorette parties. They are made to dress up and go out at night with the group of friends and act extremely silly. They have to get pictures with random people and they really just look like fools. It's awesome.
The boy graduates from days past used to go out and kill a bull and write VICTOR on the inside walls of the school in bulls' blood. They would have a VICTOR symbol and write things in latin just below it.
4. Desks were not always in the classroom. Most of the time we take things for granted, but I never assumed something as simple as a desk would be that important. Before desks were used in the class rooms, the students at U of S used to have to stand for the entire duration of the class. That meant no writing or taking of notes...the professor just repeated himself a lot. I guess you really had to pay attention back then. Not to mention, there was no Google to double check your information. Good luck on your tests, hope you hear correctly!
5. To say the least, these people were superstitious. Before exams, they would go to different parts of the University where this one dead guy was buried. There was a carving of his body on top of his tomb. Right next to his feet there sat a chair...the students used to sit in the chair, place their feet to rest upon the feet of the dead guy, and believe it gave them good luck. And all I do is study and pray hard!
Last week, Tuesday to be exact, we went to Salamanca and Ávila on an excursíon. We were supposed to meet up at La Loba, which is this wolf statue right next to the Aquaducto. I was up and ready to go...it was just that my madre was not so enthusiastic about my having to leave so early in the morning. She was packing my lunch, and I had to wait to leave until she finished. If I was late, the bus would leave me, and I would have to find my own way to Salamanca...this didn't seem to bother her too much.
So, I finally grabbed my lunch and ran out the door. The bus ride took around two or so hours. We ALL slept. I feel like none of us have been getting enough sleep lately, and the siestas -well maybe this is just me- are not holding over too well.
When we got to Salamanca, our professors, Edu and Paco, were our personal tour guides. They know so much about the history of Spain and everything within it. It blows my mind. Maybe it's just because they are teachers...but they are really, really smart.
We visited a lot of old buildings and stuff in Salamanca, none of which really got my attention...the city is just big and open...nothing like Segovia. Maybe I am being partial. So, we went to the University of Salamanca...it is the oldest university in Spain...crazy! Salamanca is referred to as the city of students, because so many of the people in the city attend the university. Edu kept telling us some pretty crazy stories about Salamanca. Some of them are pretty awesome. Here are a few:
1. Salamanca used to be an all boys college back in the day, not to mention the oldest University in Spain. So...there was never fear of doing something in front of a girl that would embarrass someone...that being said...the bathrooms were kinda far from the class rooms...Edu says that the boys would just leave the classroom quickly, and go and pee on the walls in the hallway. (Don't forget this University is like ancient...now imagine peeing on the walls of something built by the Romans.) Then, they would run back to class. In an effort to stop this behavior, the administration began to have picture of Saints painted along these same walls, thinking that students would NOT pee on a Saint's face...I guess they thought wrong. The students would just try and scratch the paint of the walls so they didn't feel so badly about peeing on them.
2. In the winter, it gets really cold here. There was no heating systems back years ago to heat up the room before class. This is not to say that the students and staff at the University of Salamanca were not cleverly wise in figuring ways to keep heat in the classrooms. Edu told us that before classes would start, the poor students (barely able to pay for school) would get paid a little bit of money to just run circles in side the classrooms. Their body heat would stir up within the classroom enough to make it hot for the entire class period. Now that is what I call innovation. (Just be glad that today we receive scholarships, not runningships.)
3. Graduation from University is a very big deal here. When students graduate college, their friends throw them a series of parties that seem very much like bachelor or bachelorette parties. They are made to dress up and go out at night with the group of friends and act extremely silly. They have to get pictures with random people and they really just look like fools. It's awesome.
The boy graduates from days past used to go out and kill a bull and write VICTOR on the inside walls of the school in bulls' blood. They would have a VICTOR symbol and write things in latin just below it.
4. Desks were not always in the classroom. Most of the time we take things for granted, but I never assumed something as simple as a desk would be that important. Before desks were used in the class rooms, the students at U of S used to have to stand for the entire duration of the class. That meant no writing or taking of notes...the professor just repeated himself a lot. I guess you really had to pay attention back then. Not to mention, there was no Google to double check your information. Good luck on your tests, hope you hear correctly!
5. To say the least, these people were superstitious. Before exams, they would go to different parts of the University where this one dead guy was buried. There was a carving of his body on top of his tomb. Right next to his feet there sat a chair...the students used to sit in the chair, place their feet to rest upon the feet of the dead guy, and believe it gave them good luck. And all I do is study and pray hard!
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