Paloma, our house mother, walked us to school this morning (she had business to attend to there) where we all took a monster Spanish placement test. The university is beautiful and is situated in a normal building on a quiet but centrally located street, calle Lagasca. While we were at the school, more Americans in our group complained about their living situations and lack of wifi than I ever care to hear again. Yes, they eat loads of ham here. Chances are it'll be on your sandwich for every lunch your hostess packs you. Yes, you should make your bed every morning. Yes, you should just suck it up... You chose to come study abroad. How are you going to complain about the culture? Immerse yourself and get over it. Rant complete.
We took a tour of Madrid de las Austrias today, complete with viewings of the Palacio Real, the Plaza Mayor, and lots and LOTS of fans here for the Real Madrid/Bilbao alumni soccer game. I literally saw an ooollllddd man take his pants off to show his friends what he had decorated himself with in honor of the game. Mind you he was completely white headed and this is not even a really real game.
Spaniards have so much passion. Whether it's for futbol, la universidad, la familia, or the shoes they sell, they are passionate about it. They also love hearing our broken Spanish and finding out why exactly we are here, for how long, and where we're visiting tomorrow. I might go visit the shop I bought my (new, much needed, much more supportive, much more comfortable) sandals from today some other time because the man there was just that nice.
Favorite things from today:
The strange, but expected ham sandwiches Paloma packed for our lunches. One looked like salami and one tasted like bologna. I ate all the bologna and then the best banana I've ever had.
Chocolate ice cream from a tiny little shop.
Riding the clean and super smooth Metro.
The feeling I got standing in the Plaza Mayor...the things I've read about and seen pictures of are REAL, y'all. I thought I was going to pass out or pee myself or both.
Hearing Paloma's stories at dinner. We talked about the guerra civil and her family being torn apart, how she never felt the oppression from having Franco as a dictator, and how important the guardia civil is to the people of Spain.
Nothing beats hearing and seeing history with real Spaniards while eating two different kinds of ham.
I warned you about getting some comfortable shoes. Oh well, at least you made a new friend out of the deal. :-)
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