I've officially fallen in love with cherries. I'm not talking about the ones they put on your ice cream that are syrupy and disgusting. I'm talking REAL cherries. FRESH cherries. We've had them for dessert for the past two nights, and I can't get enough of them. I'm afraid fruit is much more fresh (fresher? Scott?) here than in the States, and it's going to be a nasty surprise when I get home!
Today is the halfway point for the trip. I left Wednesday, May 23 and The program ends Saturday, June 23. That's 32 days, people. And today is day 16. I don't like that time has gone by so quickly, but I'm so glad I'm not new on the scene, getting lost in the metro and bringing unnecessary attention to my American self.
Today was another one of those boring day-before-a-final days. I've been here studying and procrastinating like a pro. Today was also return-laundry-to-the-Americans day. I din't know how Paloma can stand to do laundry for strangers (pretty much), but I do know that laundry just smells better in Spain.
I really need to study. These directors from the 80's and 90's are giving me a hard time. Their themes are interesting. Some of them still deal with the Civil War but some of them have moved on to more contemporary social problems. The film we watched today was "Te doy mis ojos," about a man who abuses his wife. I thought it was going to be very typical, but the film showed both sides of the story. The man loved his wife and went to therapy to try and learn to control his anger, but he just couldn't do it. There was some sort of mental roadblock he couldn't get past and she just couldn't live with him breaking her every other day. It was so sad because he tried to stop verbally and emotionally abusing her, he just couldn't. I'm not sympathizing with the character or trying to justify his actions, but I do pity him.
Anyway, the change of pace from Civil War to modern times has been interesting. There's nudity and sex scenes in every movie we've seen since the 80's. Franco died in 1975 and the censorship he imposed on the country, including the film industry, was lifted in 1978. Spanish directors and screenwriters exploded with things that had been censored in the past, and now nudity and sex scenes are to be expected in most Spanish films. It's sad. I don't think that is liberation; I just think it's kind of tasteless. But it's Europe. Everything runs a little differently here.
Okay. Nun cookie, study, sleep, then beach this weekend. Start praying now that I don't burn and that all the Spaniards don't decide to make it a nudist beach.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
get your eyes off my face.
I was easily frustrated in class today. It was miserably, almost unbearably hot in our classroom. There's air conditioning in the hallway, but not in our little baby classroom. It made for a long four hours and a slightly grumpy LB. I did get a 99 on my midterm, though. And I did get to watch another movie. And Paloma's ham sandwiches have gotten significantly better, or maybe I'm just getting used to them.
Accomplished my alone time today. I read more than half of a book free from kindle on the iPad. It was wonderful. I was away in my own small world, wrapped up in a pointless story I didn't have to think about, forgetting how hot it is here and how long we have to wait to eat like Spaniards. It was the perfect remedy to my blues from yesterday.
Spanish pet peeve of the day: staring. I don't know if it's a European thing or a Spanish thing or if I'm just drop-dead gorgeous (probably the last one, yeah?), but people stare here like their lives depend on it. There's no "oh they looked at me so I'm going to avert my eyes really quickly and act like I wasn't staring." There's no apologetic smile. Just a stare. Deadpan. Or a removal of the sunglasses to get a better look while muttering "guapa." Or sometimes a creepy smile from a man. Or an interested smile from the boy wearing the Laker's shirt today. Sorry I'm not sorry that I'm taken, buddy.
A group of us went to el Museo Reina Sofia this evening. Admission is free after 7pm, but the museo closes at 9. Unbeknownst to us, university students get in fo free all da time!
If you've been keeping up with my museum visits, you already know how this one went. FYI, Picasso and Dalí are all up in this joint, including Picasso's Guernica. It was so much better in person than I thought it would be. I was just awestruck at it's enormous size, and by the protection the museum offers the painting. Three guards, multiple surveillance cameras, and a huge sensor all around the work.
I think all of the protection is a little ironic. Guernica is a small village in Spain that was bombed by German aircraft in 1937 during Spain's Civil War. Hitler and his forces had given aid to Franco during the war in order to test out new weapons, and Guernica became a target as it was a hotspot for the Republican army. Unfortunately at the time of the bombing, the village was inhabited by mostly women and children, as the men were off fighting the war. Picasso's painting depicts the horrors of war and the wretched effects it has on the innocent. He was commissioned by the Republican government to paint Guernica for the World's Fair, and obviously it's a criticism of Franco and his government. That's why all if the security is ironic to me; it's a criticism of how the government should protect the people.
Knowing all of that (plus some that I won't bore you with) while looking at that piece of art and all of Picasso's practice sketches made my heart ache. The Spanish Civil War is just so interesting but so difficult to study at the same time.
I wandered around the museum a lot by myself; I need to be able to absorb and process the art I've dreamed about seeing. I am loving the museums here. Who knew I was such an art lover? #sophisticated
Sara and I took the Metro to the museum and back. There are usually musicians at all of the stops playing for money. Today, we saw a violin player we'd never seen before. Involuntarily, I started humming along with him until we passed him, and then realized the song was "Oh Sacred Head." It wasn't the best, but it still made me miss home.
My friends scattered today. One in New York, one in Tanzania, and one in Austria. Say a little prayer for them if you can. Traveling can be scarier than we all want to admit, and everyone can use a little more encouragement to avoid the homesickness.
Accomplished my alone time today. I read more than half of a book free from kindle on the iPad. It was wonderful. I was away in my own small world, wrapped up in a pointless story I didn't have to think about, forgetting how hot it is here and how long we have to wait to eat like Spaniards. It was the perfect remedy to my blues from yesterday.
Spanish pet peeve of the day: staring. I don't know if it's a European thing or a Spanish thing or if I'm just drop-dead gorgeous (probably the last one, yeah?), but people stare here like their lives depend on it. There's no "oh they looked at me so I'm going to avert my eyes really quickly and act like I wasn't staring." There's no apologetic smile. Just a stare. Deadpan. Or a removal of the sunglasses to get a better look while muttering "guapa." Or sometimes a creepy smile from a man. Or an interested smile from the boy wearing the Laker's shirt today. Sorry I'm not sorry that I'm taken, buddy.
A group of us went to el Museo Reina Sofia this evening. Admission is free after 7pm, but the museo closes at 9. Unbeknownst to us, university students get in fo free all da time!
If you've been keeping up with my museum visits, you already know how this one went. FYI, Picasso and Dalí are all up in this joint, including Picasso's Guernica. It was so much better in person than I thought it would be. I was just awestruck at it's enormous size, and by the protection the museum offers the painting. Three guards, multiple surveillance cameras, and a huge sensor all around the work.
I think all of the protection is a little ironic. Guernica is a small village in Spain that was bombed by German aircraft in 1937 during Spain's Civil War. Hitler and his forces had given aid to Franco during the war in order to test out new weapons, and Guernica became a target as it was a hotspot for the Republican army. Unfortunately at the time of the bombing, the village was inhabited by mostly women and children, as the men were off fighting the war. Picasso's painting depicts the horrors of war and the wretched effects it has on the innocent. He was commissioned by the Republican government to paint Guernica for the World's Fair, and obviously it's a criticism of Franco and his government. That's why all if the security is ironic to me; it's a criticism of how the government should protect the people.
Knowing all of that (plus some that I won't bore you with) while looking at that piece of art and all of Picasso's practice sketches made my heart ache. The Spanish Civil War is just so interesting but so difficult to study at the same time.
I wandered around the museum a lot by myself; I need to be able to absorb and process the art I've dreamed about seeing. I am loving the museums here. Who knew I was such an art lover? #sophisticated
Sara and I took the Metro to the museum and back. There are usually musicians at all of the stops playing for money. Today, we saw a violin player we'd never seen before. Involuntarily, I started humming along with him until we passed him, and then realized the song was "Oh Sacred Head." It wasn't the best, but it still made me miss home.
My friends scattered today. One in New York, one in Tanzania, and one in Austria. Say a little prayer for them if you can. Traveling can be scarier than we all want to admit, and everyone can use a little more encouragement to avoid the homesickness.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
madrid's best kept nun-ish secret.
Volver: a movie we watched today in class involving hiding murders of husbands, having your father's child, your mother faking her own death, and keeping secrets. Thanks, Almodóvar for keeping it real with strange movies about Spanish women.
My presentation went well today, I really had nothing to worry about. She let us sit and just talk to everyone and she contributed a lot too. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. But for real, we probably will have chicken for dinner tonight because the other girls don't eat red meat. Or ham. I'll keep you posted.
Adventure of the day: el Convento de las Carboneras. Tucked away in one of the oldest areas of Madrid, Madrid de Los Austrias, is this small convent. The building doesn't even look like a church and there's an academy housed in the rooms beside it. In this small, closed convent, the nuns sells different types of cookies to help support themselves. Since it's a closed convent, you never see the nun you buy the cookies from!
After some miscommunication from google and a misleading modern store of the same name, we found the secret door to the convent. After standing in front of it for a few minutes looking like the ignorant tourists that we are, a Spanish lady came over to us. She smiled, asked of we came for the cookies, and then rang the bell. (Why didn't we think of that?) A voice came over the intercom and the lock gave way on the old door. Our new friend pushed it open and ushered us in, telling us which way to go. We walked slowly past her into the shadowy hallway and inched towards a patch of sunshine. The ancient door closed behind us and both of us were beginning to wonder what we'd gotten ourselves into. We followed the lady's directions and found ourselves in an open patio area with plants and a staircase and green doors followed by another similar one. Then we stepped down and heard a voice from behind a window with a lazy-susan type of contraption. The nun spun the lazy-susan around a few times and suddenly, there appeared two boxes of cookies! She told us we could choose from the two, get them both, and we could get as much or as little as we wanted. Sara and I decided on a box of mantecados de yema, shortbread cookies made from sugar and egg yolk. I paid her for the cookies and wished her a beautiful day. She wished me the same and Sara and I snapped some pictures before we left. The lady who helped us was waiting outside and gave us cards with the Virgin Mary on them, asking for money. Since she was so sweet to us, we helped her out a little.
There are beggars in various places all over Madrid. Spain is in an economic crisis right now, but you wouldn't be able to tell by just being here. People still go shopping. People still dress very nicely and eat out A LOT. it's the same way Americans have been acting during our economic crisis, which is why it's hard for me to justify giving to some of the beggars here. There is opportunity here just like there is in America. I look at some of the beggars here wearing shoes with layers of clothes and a cup of change in front of them and see my kids from Honduras. Without shoes. Dirty. Humble. And before a few months ago, without hope of a good meal everyday. I'm not saying that there are not people in need here, and I'm definitely not the one to judge who deserves what. But jobs are available here, even in a crisis. Jobs just aren't available in Santa Anita.
Even though we didn't see the nun, she sounded precious. She had a little old lady voice, but she was so very nice and cheerful. The image of Sally Field as the Flying Nun kept jumping into my head, even though I'm sure this Spanish nun looks nothing like Sally Field. You never know, I guess.
I think I need to escape for a bit tomorrow afternoon. Take a run, duck into the used (and adorably old) bookshop I've passed a few times, and browse through the fair again outside our house. I can feel myself getting tense and agitated even though I'm excited and happy and...it's exhausting. I think it's from lack of hugs. And solo time. While there is no one here I wish to hug, especially not the older creepy man on the metro that stared the whole time he walked past us, there is a cure for the solo time. Mañana.
My presentation went well today, I really had nothing to worry about. She let us sit and just talk to everyone and she contributed a lot too. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. But for real, we probably will have chicken for dinner tonight because the other girls don't eat red meat. Or ham. I'll keep you posted.
Adventure of the day: el Convento de las Carboneras. Tucked away in one of the oldest areas of Madrid, Madrid de Los Austrias, is this small convent. The building doesn't even look like a church and there's an academy housed in the rooms beside it. In this small, closed convent, the nuns sells different types of cookies to help support themselves. Since it's a closed convent, you never see the nun you buy the cookies from!
After some miscommunication from google and a misleading modern store of the same name, we found the secret door to the convent. After standing in front of it for a few minutes looking like the ignorant tourists that we are, a Spanish lady came over to us. She smiled, asked of we came for the cookies, and then rang the bell. (Why didn't we think of that?) A voice came over the intercom and the lock gave way on the old door. Our new friend pushed it open and ushered us in, telling us which way to go. We walked slowly past her into the shadowy hallway and inched towards a patch of sunshine. The ancient door closed behind us and both of us were beginning to wonder what we'd gotten ourselves into. We followed the lady's directions and found ourselves in an open patio area with plants and a staircase and green doors followed by another similar one. Then we stepped down and heard a voice from behind a window with a lazy-susan type of contraption. The nun spun the lazy-susan around a few times and suddenly, there appeared two boxes of cookies! She told us we could choose from the two, get them both, and we could get as much or as little as we wanted. Sara and I decided on a box of mantecados de yema, shortbread cookies made from sugar and egg yolk. I paid her for the cookies and wished her a beautiful day. She wished me the same and Sara and I snapped some pictures before we left. The lady who helped us was waiting outside and gave us cards with the Virgin Mary on them, asking for money. Since she was so sweet to us, we helped her out a little.
There are beggars in various places all over Madrid. Spain is in an economic crisis right now, but you wouldn't be able to tell by just being here. People still go shopping. People still dress very nicely and eat out A LOT. it's the same way Americans have been acting during our economic crisis, which is why it's hard for me to justify giving to some of the beggars here. There is opportunity here just like there is in America. I look at some of the beggars here wearing shoes with layers of clothes and a cup of change in front of them and see my kids from Honduras. Without shoes. Dirty. Humble. And before a few months ago, without hope of a good meal everyday. I'm not saying that there are not people in need here, and I'm definitely not the one to judge who deserves what. But jobs are available here, even in a crisis. Jobs just aren't available in Santa Anita.
Even though we didn't see the nun, she sounded precious. She had a little old lady voice, but she was so very nice and cheerful. The image of Sally Field as the Flying Nun kept jumping into my head, even though I'm sure this Spanish nun looks nothing like Sally Field. You never know, I guess.
I think I need to escape for a bit tomorrow afternoon. Take a run, duck into the used (and adorably old) bookshop I've passed a few times, and browse through the fair again outside our house. I can feel myself getting tense and agitated even though I'm excited and happy and...it's exhausting. I think it's from lack of hugs. And solo time. While there is no one here I wish to hug, especially not the older creepy man on the metro that stared the whole time he walked past us, there is a cure for the solo time. Mañana.
Monday, June 4, 2012
justice beaver, a crime fighting beaver.
I finally figured out how to make accent marks when typing on the Ipad. Newb, I know. Please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos; autocorrect is my enemy.
The weather was phenomenal today. Gonzalo, Paloma's son, told me that no one my age in Spain says the word "phenomenal." If they do use it, they are "pujo" or "puja." People that wear Gucci and Prada. Preppy. He laughed and said "you're not preppy." Agreed, Gonzalo.
Walking to class was genial (great) today, and the nice weather made my attitude in class much better than normal. We watched a movie called "Belle Époque" with a really young Penelope Cruz. It was totally scandalous but really sweet at the same time. Accidentally, Sara and I grabbed the roommates' cheese sandwiches (blegh) instead of our ham sandwiches. Luckily, we swapped during our 15 minute break. They add an extra 45 minutes each day this week so we complete all the hours we need to get full credit for our courses. Not fun, but así es la vida.
Tomorrow I have a ten minute presentation on José Luis Cuerda, famous Spanish director. I don't really know who he is either, so don't worry about it. His movies seem phenomenal though. Jaja.
After class, I finally found some postcards! My afternoon was filled with writing postcards, Skype, mailing the cards, buying some apples to snack on this week, and tons and tons of research. I love walking around our little barrio alone. I mean, I love walking around with Sara too, but I think we both respect each other enough to realize we need our alone time. I bought a small pastry for my snack today that I probably won't eat again... It was very large and very chocolately. I eat more chocolate here than at home because I don't have to worry about kissing a certain someone who abhors chocolate. Paloma puts these baby chocolate pieces in our room and they are hard to resist. I should probably go running with Sara the next time she goes. She is diligent, that Sara.
Dinner was a mixture of things, but Paloma made her broccoli again. It is so good. I don't know what she does to it, but it's wonderful. I'm going to have to get some of her recipes before I leave. Her food is too good to leave in Spain.
Exciting news: beliebers everywhere in Madrid are camping outside the Hotel Villa Magna because Justin Bieber is in Madrid! A group of us girls from Auburn were going to stake out his concert, but I don't think there is actually going to be one. Girls cry here for JBiebs just like at home. And they use the word "belieber" instead of a Spanish translation.
Writing postcards made me miss people today. That doesn't necessarily mean I want to go home, I just wish my people were here too! Words don't do this trip justice, and it's killing me that I can't upload my pictures to show everything in my blog. June 27th-ish will be rough when I have to go through them all and miss everything I've come to love.
I'm fading fast. Until next time I am sincerely,
Slightly friends/family/puppy/but-not-home sick.
The weather was phenomenal today. Gonzalo, Paloma's son, told me that no one my age in Spain says the word "phenomenal." If they do use it, they are "pujo" or "puja." People that wear Gucci and Prada. Preppy. He laughed and said "you're not preppy." Agreed, Gonzalo.
Walking to class was genial (great) today, and the nice weather made my attitude in class much better than normal. We watched a movie called "Belle Époque" with a really young Penelope Cruz. It was totally scandalous but really sweet at the same time. Accidentally, Sara and I grabbed the roommates' cheese sandwiches (blegh) instead of our ham sandwiches. Luckily, we swapped during our 15 minute break. They add an extra 45 minutes each day this week so we complete all the hours we need to get full credit for our courses. Not fun, but así es la vida.
Tomorrow I have a ten minute presentation on José Luis Cuerda, famous Spanish director. I don't really know who he is either, so don't worry about it. His movies seem phenomenal though. Jaja.
After class, I finally found some postcards! My afternoon was filled with writing postcards, Skype, mailing the cards, buying some apples to snack on this week, and tons and tons of research. I love walking around our little barrio alone. I mean, I love walking around with Sara too, but I think we both respect each other enough to realize we need our alone time. I bought a small pastry for my snack today that I probably won't eat again... It was very large and very chocolately. I eat more chocolate here than at home because I don't have to worry about kissing a certain someone who abhors chocolate. Paloma puts these baby chocolate pieces in our room and they are hard to resist. I should probably go running with Sara the next time she goes. She is diligent, that Sara.
Dinner was a mixture of things, but Paloma made her broccoli again. It is so good. I don't know what she does to it, but it's wonderful. I'm going to have to get some of her recipes before I leave. Her food is too good to leave in Spain.
Exciting news: beliebers everywhere in Madrid are camping outside the Hotel Villa Magna because Justin Bieber is in Madrid! A group of us girls from Auburn were going to stake out his concert, but I don't think there is actually going to be one. Girls cry here for JBiebs just like at home. And they use the word "belieber" instead of a Spanish translation.
Writing postcards made me miss people today. That doesn't necessarily mean I want to go home, I just wish my people were here too! Words don't do this trip justice, and it's killing me that I can't upload my pictures to show everything in my blog. June 27th-ish will be rough when I have to go through them all and miss everything I've come to love.
I'm fading fast. Until next time I am sincerely,
Slightly friends/family/puppy/but-not-home sick.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
vuvus and yanks.
Ahem. I wish to begin today by declaring my permanent hatred for the vuvuzela. I will come back to this nuisance shortly.
Madrid was cooler today than it has been recently, I am SO grateful for the slight relief. Alabama may be the death of me when I come home and have to get used to more than 87 degrees and humidity. Oh humidity.
Sara and I hopped on the metro pretty early this morning (for a day off, it was pretty early) to go to El Rastro. El Rastro is kind of like an open air flea market, except it's individual and sectioned off booths full of everything from clothes to paintings to "as seen on tv" items to magnets to antiques to scarves, etc. The best part? It literally covers like five blocks of a section of Madrid. They close and block off the area to cars and there are just people EVERYWHERE. Spaniards, Americans, and every other type of European to can imagine. I heard languages today that I've never heard in person before. I held my bag closer to my body than I ever had before (pickpocketers are professionals in Madrid). I spent more money than I planned to, but I'm also pretty much finished with souvenirs for everyone. I think. I won't say what I bought today. I don't want to ruin any surprises!
We spent close to three hours at the Rastro then came home to eat the sandwiches Paloma made for us that we accidentally forgot here. Oops. I have to say I enjoyed sandwiches much more today than past days because our sandwiches were still cold when we ate them! Spanish ham tastes so much better when it hasn't been sitting in my bag for four hours. After lunch, we napped. We needed naps, badly. I cannot seem to catch up on sleep here. I'll think I'm doing great and getting used to the Spanish schedule, but then exhaustion hits me like a ton of Iberian hams.
At 4:30, we left Paloma's to head towards Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, home to Real Madrid F.C. It was awesome! Real Madrid was playing Manchester United in a charity alumni match called "Africa en mi alma." of course, I know next to nothing about soccer and the two clubs that I watched today, but I definitely have a new appreciation for soccer. The atmosphere was incredible, and it wasn't even a real match! They do chants and they do the wave SOOO much better than we do. I still don't understand the game and why there are so many people on the field. But it was an experience I wouldn't change for anything.
The stadium was almost full. They had four parachuters drop down before the match and two of them held the flags for each club. Then they introduced all of the alumni players, which kind of took forever. Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed at every play and grimaced when someone hit the ground. Also, each small child had a stupid vuvuzela. I thought at first "how cool that something from South Africa and the World Cup became so popular all over the world!" Then, I realized that the noise. Never. Stops. I don't like loud things. Vuvuzelas stress me out.
The game was more exciting than other ones I've watched, but Sara and I still left after the first half (sorry, fútbol fans) to beat the crowd on the metro and make it home in time for dinner.
There are two newbies staying with us and Paloma now. They are from New York and interesting. I'm not sure if it's just the difference between northern and southern personalities or jet lag or or the fact that Sara and I eat everything and they don't eat meat... But dinner was kind of awkward. Hopefully it'll get better and we'll all get used to being around each other. Yankees. (insert prayers for patience here.)
Madrid was cooler today than it has been recently, I am SO grateful for the slight relief. Alabama may be the death of me when I come home and have to get used to more than 87 degrees and humidity. Oh humidity.
Sara and I hopped on the metro pretty early this morning (for a day off, it was pretty early) to go to El Rastro. El Rastro is kind of like an open air flea market, except it's individual and sectioned off booths full of everything from clothes to paintings to "as seen on tv" items to magnets to antiques to scarves, etc. The best part? It literally covers like five blocks of a section of Madrid. They close and block off the area to cars and there are just people EVERYWHERE. Spaniards, Americans, and every other type of European to can imagine. I heard languages today that I've never heard in person before. I held my bag closer to my body than I ever had before (pickpocketers are professionals in Madrid). I spent more money than I planned to, but I'm also pretty much finished with souvenirs for everyone. I think. I won't say what I bought today. I don't want to ruin any surprises!
We spent close to three hours at the Rastro then came home to eat the sandwiches Paloma made for us that we accidentally forgot here. Oops. I have to say I enjoyed sandwiches much more today than past days because our sandwiches were still cold when we ate them! Spanish ham tastes so much better when it hasn't been sitting in my bag for four hours. After lunch, we napped. We needed naps, badly. I cannot seem to catch up on sleep here. I'll think I'm doing great and getting used to the Spanish schedule, but then exhaustion hits me like a ton of Iberian hams.
At 4:30, we left Paloma's to head towards Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, home to Real Madrid F.C. It was awesome! Real Madrid was playing Manchester United in a charity alumni match called "Africa en mi alma." of course, I know next to nothing about soccer and the two clubs that I watched today, but I definitely have a new appreciation for soccer. The atmosphere was incredible, and it wasn't even a real match! They do chants and they do the wave SOOO much better than we do. I still don't understand the game and why there are so many people on the field. But it was an experience I wouldn't change for anything.
The stadium was almost full. They had four parachuters drop down before the match and two of them held the flags for each club. Then they introduced all of the alumni players, which kind of took forever. Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed at every play and grimaced when someone hit the ground. Also, each small child had a stupid vuvuzela. I thought at first "how cool that something from South Africa and the World Cup became so popular all over the world!" Then, I realized that the noise. Never. Stops. I don't like loud things. Vuvuzelas stress me out.
The game was more exciting than other ones I've watched, but Sara and I still left after the first half (sorry, fútbol fans) to beat the crowd on the metro and make it home in time for dinner.
There are two newbies staying with us and Paloma now. They are from New York and interesting. I'm not sure if it's just the difference between northern and southern personalities or jet lag or or the fact that Sara and I eat everything and they don't eat meat... But dinner was kind of awkward. Hopefully it'll get better and we'll all get used to being around each other. Yankees. (insert prayers for patience here.)
Saturday, June 2, 2012
biggest monastery ever.
Seriously, I thought our tour of the Monesterio de El Escorial would never end. It was interesting for about an hour, but the hour after that was a drag. I hate saying that because it makes me sound like a spoiled brat not enjoying my expensive experience. I had fun today. I shopped a little today. I visited quaint little places and learned about one of the most religious kings of Spain. I hung out with some new people who are convinced that someday, I will be a hoarder. (I am NOT a hoarder. I just like to have another bottle of shampoo ready when I get low in my current bottle. Doesn't everyone?) I had fun exploring today and taking pictures. But the tour was tooooooo long. Thank goodness we could all find a way to entertain ourselves afterwards.
We saw over 150 tombs today in that monastery. It was kind of creepy. I also learned that when a king or queen dies, they put their body in a waiting room to decay and after forty years or so, the monks take the remaining bones out and place them in the tomb. I'm not sure what our guide called the room, but the root of the word is "pudrirse," which means "to rot." Gross. The present king of Spain is in a dilemma though; he is in his late 70's and has to find a different rot room and tomb because the one we saw today is full! Sorry, Juan Carlos. Good luck.
After El Escorial, we visited el Valle de Los Caidos (the valley of the fallen). Up in the kind of mountains outside Madrid is this HUGE basilica where Franco, the last dictator of Spain, Primo de Rivera, the first dictator of Spain, and the remains of many soldiers from the civil war are buried. Interesting fact: they like to think all of the remains are of Franco's soldiers, but there's no way to be sure. There could be some republicanos lurking behind those big doors!
Franco and Primo's graves are on either side of the huge altar in the sanctuary...where people still go for mass. It made me kind of sick to my stomach to think that people go there to worship. First of all, it's made of concrete and not very inviting. It's very cool inside the basilica but it's more than just the temperature and the fact that there is no way for sunlight to come in. The atmosphere is cold and austere. I just feel like it's a mixture of praising God and praising Franco, and it shouldn't be like that.
The view from the basilica is beautiful though. It's all Spanish countryside and at the top of the mountain is the tallest cross in the world. It's 150m high and very impressive. It took prisoners of war (really, Franco?) 18 years to complete el Valle. You used to be able to walk/hike to the top, but there's not enough money to maintain the trail. I bet the view from up there is incredible.
Sara and I snacked again today at our little Rodilla restaurant across the street from Paloma's and talked about our plans for the free weekend. I realized today that Wednesday is the halfway point for the trip. Say what?!
I also realized today that I'm in my own little world here. I can't text my friends and family and see them everyday to stay caught up on their lives. I feel like I'm missing out on everyone else's summers and I feel horrible about it. People are getting married and going on mission trips and moving and getting jobs and it bothers me that I can't hung someone's neck and tell them how proud I am of them. Just know that whether you're in Huntsville, Auburn, New York City, Tanzania, Austria, Honduras, Ghana, or just sitting on a (or buying a new) couch, I'm not neglecting our friendship! I'm just supporting from afar and wishing I could be in fifteen places at once.
We saw over 150 tombs today in that monastery. It was kind of creepy. I also learned that when a king or queen dies, they put their body in a waiting room to decay and after forty years or so, the monks take the remaining bones out and place them in the tomb. I'm not sure what our guide called the room, but the root of the word is "pudrirse," which means "to rot." Gross. The present king of Spain is in a dilemma though; he is in his late 70's and has to find a different rot room and tomb because the one we saw today is full! Sorry, Juan Carlos. Good luck.
After El Escorial, we visited el Valle de Los Caidos (the valley of the fallen). Up in the kind of mountains outside Madrid is this HUGE basilica where Franco, the last dictator of Spain, Primo de Rivera, the first dictator of Spain, and the remains of many soldiers from the civil war are buried. Interesting fact: they like to think all of the remains are of Franco's soldiers, but there's no way to be sure. There could be some republicanos lurking behind those big doors!
Franco and Primo's graves are on either side of the huge altar in the sanctuary...where people still go for mass. It made me kind of sick to my stomach to think that people go there to worship. First of all, it's made of concrete and not very inviting. It's very cool inside the basilica but it's more than just the temperature and the fact that there is no way for sunlight to come in. The atmosphere is cold and austere. I just feel like it's a mixture of praising God and praising Franco, and it shouldn't be like that.
The view from the basilica is beautiful though. It's all Spanish countryside and at the top of the mountain is the tallest cross in the world. It's 150m high and very impressive. It took prisoners of war (really, Franco?) 18 years to complete el Valle. You used to be able to walk/hike to the top, but there's not enough money to maintain the trail. I bet the view from up there is incredible.
Sara and I snacked again today at our little Rodilla restaurant across the street from Paloma's and talked about our plans for the free weekend. I realized today that Wednesday is the halfway point for the trip. Say what?!
I also realized today that I'm in my own little world here. I can't text my friends and family and see them everyday to stay caught up on their lives. I feel like I'm missing out on everyone else's summers and I feel horrible about it. People are getting married and going on mission trips and moving and getting jobs and it bothers me that I can't hung someone's neck and tell them how proud I am of them. Just know that whether you're in Huntsville, Auburn, New York City, Tanzania, Austria, Honduras, Ghana, or just sitting on a (or buying a new) couch, I'm not neglecting our friendship! I'm just supporting from afar and wishing I could be in fifteen places at once.
Friday, June 1, 2012
happy birthday, deacon krista.
Today, I went to Spain's equivalent to the DMV. It's the same here. Sara and I took the wrong Metro, ended up on the other side of the city, and didn't meet everyone else until nearly six. No worries- they made an appointment for five but the DMV still hadn't done anything for them. See? Same.
I'm kind of dead after that midterm today. It wasn't hard at all and I'm confident that I did well, but it's because I studied so hard yesterday and yester-night. Worn. Out. We were going to go get dessert after dinner tonight but we didn't even get around to it.
I did get to talk with my mommy, though! I'm so grateful to whoever invented Skype. And computers. I'm not homesick, but I miss my family and friends. It helps that my mom and AM are do dadgum funny that both Sara and I laugh when I Skype with them. Doesn't help that daddy is still at work when I am about to go to bed. But, asi es la vida.
Today, when Sara and I were at the wrong metro, we made friends with a nice security guard. He's Egyptian and Spanish and is all for learning as many languages as possible. And he has a friend in Washington. He took good care of us though and made sure we took the right line after we talked with him.
Tomorrow we go to El Escorial and La Valle de Los Caidos. I'm excited because it's where Franco lived during his regime and it's an important historic monument I suppose, but it's also going to be really difficult, I think. He was friends with Hitler and Mussolini. Yikes.
I haven't seen Paloma all day. She was bebopping around this morning and then had a barbeque to go to! One of her friends is leaving the hospital to go home today after a long fight with cancer. He's in remission now and they are all going to surprise him when he arrives home. It's almost midnight and she's still gone, but she's a Spaniard. Typical!
My eyes are crossing. I have to sleep.
I'm kind of dead after that midterm today. It wasn't hard at all and I'm confident that I did well, but it's because I studied so hard yesterday and yester-night. Worn. Out. We were going to go get dessert after dinner tonight but we didn't even get around to it.
I did get to talk with my mommy, though! I'm so grateful to whoever invented Skype. And computers. I'm not homesick, but I miss my family and friends. It helps that my mom and AM are do dadgum funny that both Sara and I laugh when I Skype with them. Doesn't help that daddy is still at work when I am about to go to bed. But, asi es la vida.
Today, when Sara and I were at the wrong metro, we made friends with a nice security guard. He's Egyptian and Spanish and is all for learning as many languages as possible. And he has a friend in Washington. He took good care of us though and made sure we took the right line after we talked with him.
Tomorrow we go to El Escorial and La Valle de Los Caidos. I'm excited because it's where Franco lived during his regime and it's an important historic monument I suppose, but it's also going to be really difficult, I think. He was friends with Hitler and Mussolini. Yikes.
I haven't seen Paloma all day. She was bebopping around this morning and then had a barbeque to go to! One of her friends is leaving the hospital to go home today after a long fight with cancer. He's in remission now and they are all going to surprise him when he arrives home. It's almost midnight and she's still gone, but she's a Spaniard. Typical!
My eyes are crossing. I have to sleep.
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