Whoops. When you wait 10 days to post again, the day-by-day commentary becomes increasingly difficult, as I really just can't remember what I've been up to. But here's an effort:
The last time I posted was Sept. 15, the Wednesday before I went to Amsterdam. I suppose that's no so long ago. Amsterdam. I had a wonderful weekend with my sister and mom. What a gift that they were both in Europe. Having had Bri around for such a long time definitely eased the transition to European living so it was hard to believe when leaving Amsterdam that I wasn't going to see her again until Christmas (if she can come) or February. I had definitely gotten used to seeing her every couple days. I feel like there are always little things that make living in Europe or being away from home seem really real. I am blanking on the handful of other times that I have this sensation (I'm telling a good story here, right?) but what I'm getting at is that traveling from Spain to Amsterdam and coming "home" to Madrid. I've been living here for a month now, but it was leaving Madrid that made it feel like home.
Back to the trip. Got to Amsterdam at like 5 or so on Friday after my flight was delayed. Took the train into central Amsterdam and walked over to the hotel. After I found out that my phone doesn't work in the Netherlands like I had expected and that the hotel was going to charge me 12 euros to use their wi-fi (which I wasn't going to pay), I decided to hit the streets in search of a café so that I could connect to the internet and touch in with mom and Bri who were supposed to land later that night. Everywhere I looked there were "coffeehouses," but the cafés with wifi were no where to be found. Ha. Eventually I just plopped myself down in the lobby with Hamlet (my class reading en español) and waited until the arrived. Had a nice dinner and crashed in our 3-stars-would-be-generous hotel (later Brianna would revisit the travel sites and see commentary about a former mouse infestation). Saturday was not our day. We started off with a canal tour which was nice. Then we excitedly headed over to the Anne Frank house only to find out that it was closed for Yom Kippur, then stopped by a church to go up in their tower. They only had 1 spot left that day, which the lady offered to us in case we wanted to pick one of us to experience it while the others waited below. Grabbed a quick late afternoon lunch and headed over to the shopping street around 5... and the stores closed at 6. We essentially did nothing, but hey, we were there to spend time with each other (at that we succeeded) so we were still content. Sunday we succeeded in taking a tour of Anne Frank's house. It was emotional, especially connecting it with Dachau from a few weeks ago, and I couldn't help but think that all the millions of people that were sent to the concentration camps would have had a story equally moving. There was a quote on the back of the guide pamphlet that says (translating from Spanish): "Anne Frank alone moves us more than the innumerable people that suffered as much as her, but their images remain in shade. And maybe that's how it has to be: if we could share the suffering of all, we couldn't keep living." It was quite apt. I about lost it as we were walking through the house and reading the quotes that they have posted about her diary. There was one where she said (again I have to translate from my Spanish pamphlet): "For a long time I've known that my biggest dream is to be a journalist and later a famous writer. No matter what, when the war ends, I would like to publish a book called 'The Annex.'" For me, just conflicting emotions of being so happy that amidst all the tragedy that at least her dream was realized and the sadness that she never got to experience her fame because I'm sure that if she had survived she would have achieved her goal.
After waiting in the long, Anne-Frank-house line, we didn't really have time to get over to the art museums (next time), so we just wandered a bit through the shops again, got an early dinner and I headed home, finishing my Hamlet reading on the way back.
Last week was a lot of just getting into the groove of life here. I'm getting used to cooking regularly for myself (made a nice Thai-style curry tonight and feeling super culinary), getting into my classes, and the like. I had my interview for my internship on Friday. It was funny: the first guy I talked to (the director of volunteering and what-not) was saying that after the process, he and the director would discuss my qualifications and such and let me know. After I talked with him, I talked with the director, who then introduced me to the group as their new intern. Overruled. Ha. So I'll be working at Funeso which is an international economic development NGO based out of Spain. They do work in Latin America, Africa and Asia. I'll do a lot of the regular intern things, but hopefully it will be good. I have my first day tomorrow, so we'll see how it is.
The weekend was a blast. Really enjoying the group of Midd kids that we have here and incorporating some wonderful Spaniards. We had a big dinner party on Friday to celebrate my friend's birthday and I helped my friend Darryl, at whose house we had the dinner, cook and prepare for it all. That was a blast. We always seem to find places that want to give us free shots/drinks for coming to their bar, so we headed out and did that. Very nice. Saturday I slept in, hung out (should have done work, I'm now wishing) and then we celebrated the b-day again (gotta make a weekend out of it) with a great Italian dinner, more free drinks (don't know how this is profitable for them but I won't complain), and I ended up with some sangria with Darryl in the plaza in Chueca. Today I had a brunch filled with great conversation, did a bit of my 16th century Spanish reading, made the dinner, talked with some friends and family on Skype, and here I am.
Madrid has been good to me. Loving it so far and looking forward to getting to know it better in the next few months. I'll try to do a better job of updating regularly so that I don't have to do a sweeping overview of things that happened long ago and can dive into more of the fun anecdotes, but for now, I should read a few more poems and hit the hay (ha, I also am loving saying idioms in English because I know so few in Spanish. I can say a lot of things in Spanish, but not with the character that I can do in English).
So that's that. Pues nada.
Buenas noches (although it's 5 pm for most of you, it's midnight for me).
Besotes desde España
domingo, 26 de septiembre de 2010
miércoles, 15 de septiembre de 2010
Starting from where I left off last time:
Tuesday I had my great day of classes. Got up early, made my way over to Getafe in time. Checked my piece of paper that reminded me to go to 6.1.05 (6th building, 1st floor, room 5). Found the room easily, sat down and waited. There were other kids there but the professor hadn't come. Eventually it got a bit past the start time of the class. I started a conversation with the kid next to me, who was very nice, and subsequently found out that I was in the wrong place. Ran over to the library to check it out and found out that I was supposed to be in 6.1.05B (the room next door) but by the time I made it back there, it was 20 minutes into class, and already being a foreigner, I didn't want to just drop in while the professor was talking. It makes me think of Mean Girls... I'll never know what I missed on that first day of Game Theory.
I successfully made it to my next 3 classes, plus an additional one that I attended with some friends. I went to Literary Movements, Modern History of Spain, Regional and Urban Economics and Economic Progress of Spain. I really liked the professor for my literature class (and continue to like her as I stayed in that one and Economic Progress of Spain). It totally reminds me of an AP English class, just in Spanish. Right now we're reading a book of Golden Age poetry (16th century), and goodness, it has obscure words and grammar. I'm slowing figuring it out, but there are a lot of differences. I feel consoled when I look up a word and it's not even in my favorite online English-Spanish dictionary because then I don't feel like I should have known it. Turns out "modern" history of Spain means 16-19th centuries. What we would call modern history is "contemporary" here. So that was a bummer. In the first minutes, the professor acknowledged that in English we use modern for contemporary and that it might have been confusing to us. At that point, I asked myself if I could leave right then and there, but feeling that that would be inappropriate, I stuck around for what was then a 90 minute lecture on Spanish archives. He spent the whole time telling us where they were, what was in them, and the like, which would have been interesting in an abbreviated version, but wow. Urban and Regional Economics was interesting. It's all about land use and pricing and how to make the best use of everything while keeping green space and local laws and everything in mind, but since I'm here in Spain I figured it would be best to take something I can't take at home and save Urban Economics for Midd. Still don't know exactly what Economic Progress of Spain will be like because we haven't had our first official lecture. So far we've just talked about the class itself, but it should be good. I have that with two good friends of mine here, so that was good.
The first day of classes, I didn't really meet any Spaniards but now I am starting to get to know the kids in my classes so that makes it a lot more interesting. I think once we get into the swing of things, it's going to be a really great experience.
Wednesday last week I had my oral proficiency exam. I think it overall went really well (I just got an e-mail from my school saying they want me to take the Spanish Language class at Getafe instead of theirs. It's a class in the first year of the Humanities major so it'd be super legit... the only problem is that Midd waited so long to tell me so I've now missed two weeks of that class.) Anyways, it was fun. It was just like a 30 minute conversation with a professor, but sometimes my difficulty answering a question was in no way linguistic. The last question she asked me was "In a democratic society, if no one voted, what would happen?" Think about it.
Thursday we had to do this obligatory tour. Middlebury, for whatever reason, makes the cultural events obligatory. (For example, I'm missing the group trip to Segovia this weekend, and they told me that I have to go back, alone, and do all the same activities they do.) The tour was horrible. She took us to some really beautiful sights, but she had this weird mix between dumbing it down and having huge expectations. She talked really slowly and constantly made sure we understood, but then would ask us about specific events in Spanish history that clearly we don't know. The descriptions were just too general to be interesting. In terms of her mini-quizzes, at one point she asked us for writers from the Golden Age (Siglo de Oro). I said Gracilaso de la Vega and someone else piped in with Miguel de Cervantes, who are two major Spanish writers. She then goes, "No, come on, some really famous ones." I added Boscán, and she told me it was a work of literature, not a writer (He's a writer, I've been reading his poetry). It was uncomfortable.
Bri came back to Madrid Friday. We got dinner and then went over to my friend's birthday party for a bit. Eventually called it an early night to save up for Saturday... Saturday was crazy. It was the Night in White (la noche en blanco). It's this night where Madrid turns into a big city-wide fair. Grand Vía, which is usually filled with traffic, is filled with people. There are slides in the middle of the street, kids doing skateboard races. We saw a woman dancing hanging from the side of a building in this acrobatic rope thing. That was pretty cool. There's just stuff everywhere... and all this is happening at 2 am. We started off with a dinner party at my roommates' friend's apartment. It was really fun. Everyone brought a little something to share. The group was exceptional: 2 Spaniards (one of which was Basque), a German, a Brazilian, an Englishman, a Dutchwoman, an American, and Bri and I. The German and the Brazilian speak Portuguese at home (we were at their apartment), as do the Dutchwoman and the American, who met in Brazil. It was so amazingly international. Very good company. We left for the club just before 2 and then stayed there until 6. My 35-40 year old roommates had just gotten home a bit before Bri and I when we walked in at 6/630 am, and on the way home the streets were still busy. About the amount of people you'd see at 10 at home in Minneapolis.
Obviously, the party scene here is quite different than home, and I think it's going to be really weird to come back to the US, be 21 and go to the bars for the first time, and then have everything close at 2 since I'm only used to going out here and things start then. On Friday, for example, I was walking to the train station at 830 and the bar on the corner near my place was full of people, drinking beer, who hadn't yet gone home. Javi, my roommate, told me that things have quieted down a lot, and that it used to be normal for someone to leave their house of Thursday and not come home until Monday afternoon, going out every night. (Those guys, though, he added, use a fair amount of cocaine). Don't worry. I certainly don't take it there, but it's an interesting perspective.
Sunday we slept in and then went to Rock the Ballet starring the Bad Boys of Dance. Bri and I had seen this advertisements all around Berlin with these amazing dancers but upon approaching the pictures, we very disappointedly found out that they had left Berlin a day or two before we arrived. But they just moved into Madrid, so it all came full circle and we were able to go. It was a lot of fun, lots of Michael Jackson, Queen, U2 mixed in with classically trained dancers. The styles were at times a little conflicting, but overall it was very well done. They were super talented with some very impressive moves. The main dancer is 29, choreographed the show, and apparently has taken the dance world by storm.
Then my MOM came Monday. Quite the influx of Mooty's here in Madrid. She was obviously exhausted from the traveling, but we made it over to San Miguel Market, which is this old iron-roofed building (built at the time of the Eiffel Tower when iron was so in) that has been renovated into an upscale wine/cheese/appetizer place. Had a nice dinner. Bri, feeling adventurous, blindly ordered some fish that we didn't know. Turned out to be these aquatic worms, so you all know how she received that. They were interesting. If you closed your eyes, they tasted all right, but looking at the bowl, I more than half expected them to start squirming around.
Bri and mom went off to Barcelona yesterday. I'm here in Madrid taking my classes and hanging out. Off to Amsterdam to see them Friday and spend the weekend there.
Much love from Spain.
Besotes.
Tuesday I had my great day of classes. Got up early, made my way over to Getafe in time. Checked my piece of paper that reminded me to go to 6.1.05 (6th building, 1st floor, room 5). Found the room easily, sat down and waited. There were other kids there but the professor hadn't come. Eventually it got a bit past the start time of the class. I started a conversation with the kid next to me, who was very nice, and subsequently found out that I was in the wrong place. Ran over to the library to check it out and found out that I was supposed to be in 6.1.05B (the room next door) but by the time I made it back there, it was 20 minutes into class, and already being a foreigner, I didn't want to just drop in while the professor was talking. It makes me think of Mean Girls... I'll never know what I missed on that first day of Game Theory.
I successfully made it to my next 3 classes, plus an additional one that I attended with some friends. I went to Literary Movements, Modern History of Spain, Regional and Urban Economics and Economic Progress of Spain. I really liked the professor for my literature class (and continue to like her as I stayed in that one and Economic Progress of Spain). It totally reminds me of an AP English class, just in Spanish. Right now we're reading a book of Golden Age poetry (16th century), and goodness, it has obscure words and grammar. I'm slowing figuring it out, but there are a lot of differences. I feel consoled when I look up a word and it's not even in my favorite online English-Spanish dictionary because then I don't feel like I should have known it. Turns out "modern" history of Spain means 16-19th centuries. What we would call modern history is "contemporary" here. So that was a bummer. In the first minutes, the professor acknowledged that in English we use modern for contemporary and that it might have been confusing to us. At that point, I asked myself if I could leave right then and there, but feeling that that would be inappropriate, I stuck around for what was then a 90 minute lecture on Spanish archives. He spent the whole time telling us where they were, what was in them, and the like, which would have been interesting in an abbreviated version, but wow. Urban and Regional Economics was interesting. It's all about land use and pricing and how to make the best use of everything while keeping green space and local laws and everything in mind, but since I'm here in Spain I figured it would be best to take something I can't take at home and save Urban Economics for Midd. Still don't know exactly what Economic Progress of Spain will be like because we haven't had our first official lecture. So far we've just talked about the class itself, but it should be good. I have that with two good friends of mine here, so that was good.
The first day of classes, I didn't really meet any Spaniards but now I am starting to get to know the kids in my classes so that makes it a lot more interesting. I think once we get into the swing of things, it's going to be a really great experience.
Wednesday last week I had my oral proficiency exam. I think it overall went really well (I just got an e-mail from my school saying they want me to take the Spanish Language class at Getafe instead of theirs. It's a class in the first year of the Humanities major so it'd be super legit... the only problem is that Midd waited so long to tell me so I've now missed two weeks of that class.) Anyways, it was fun. It was just like a 30 minute conversation with a professor, but sometimes my difficulty answering a question was in no way linguistic. The last question she asked me was "In a democratic society, if no one voted, what would happen?" Think about it.
Thursday we had to do this obligatory tour. Middlebury, for whatever reason, makes the cultural events obligatory. (For example, I'm missing the group trip to Segovia this weekend, and they told me that I have to go back, alone, and do all the same activities they do.) The tour was horrible. She took us to some really beautiful sights, but she had this weird mix between dumbing it down and having huge expectations. She talked really slowly and constantly made sure we understood, but then would ask us about specific events in Spanish history that clearly we don't know. The descriptions were just too general to be interesting. In terms of her mini-quizzes, at one point she asked us for writers from the Golden Age (Siglo de Oro). I said Gracilaso de la Vega and someone else piped in with Miguel de Cervantes, who are two major Spanish writers. She then goes, "No, come on, some really famous ones." I added Boscán, and she told me it was a work of literature, not a writer (He's a writer, I've been reading his poetry). It was uncomfortable.
Bri came back to Madrid Friday. We got dinner and then went over to my friend's birthday party for a bit. Eventually called it an early night to save up for Saturday... Saturday was crazy. It was the Night in White (la noche en blanco). It's this night where Madrid turns into a big city-wide fair. Grand Vía, which is usually filled with traffic, is filled with people. There are slides in the middle of the street, kids doing skateboard races. We saw a woman dancing hanging from the side of a building in this acrobatic rope thing. That was pretty cool. There's just stuff everywhere... and all this is happening at 2 am. We started off with a dinner party at my roommates' friend's apartment. It was really fun. Everyone brought a little something to share. The group was exceptional: 2 Spaniards (one of which was Basque), a German, a Brazilian, an Englishman, a Dutchwoman, an American, and Bri and I. The German and the Brazilian speak Portuguese at home (we were at their apartment), as do the Dutchwoman and the American, who met in Brazil. It was so amazingly international. Very good company. We left for the club just before 2 and then stayed there until 6. My 35-40 year old roommates had just gotten home a bit before Bri and I when we walked in at 6/630 am, and on the way home the streets were still busy. About the amount of people you'd see at 10 at home in Minneapolis.
Obviously, the party scene here is quite different than home, and I think it's going to be really weird to come back to the US, be 21 and go to the bars for the first time, and then have everything close at 2 since I'm only used to going out here and things start then. On Friday, for example, I was walking to the train station at 830 and the bar on the corner near my place was full of people, drinking beer, who hadn't yet gone home. Javi, my roommate, told me that things have quieted down a lot, and that it used to be normal for someone to leave their house of Thursday and not come home until Monday afternoon, going out every night. (Those guys, though, he added, use a fair amount of cocaine). Don't worry. I certainly don't take it there, but it's an interesting perspective.
Sunday we slept in and then went to Rock the Ballet starring the Bad Boys of Dance. Bri and I had seen this advertisements all around Berlin with these amazing dancers but upon approaching the pictures, we very disappointedly found out that they had left Berlin a day or two before we arrived. But they just moved into Madrid, so it all came full circle and we were able to go. It was a lot of fun, lots of Michael Jackson, Queen, U2 mixed in with classically trained dancers. The styles were at times a little conflicting, but overall it was very well done. They were super talented with some very impressive moves. The main dancer is 29, choreographed the show, and apparently has taken the dance world by storm.
Then my MOM came Monday. Quite the influx of Mooty's here in Madrid. She was obviously exhausted from the traveling, but we made it over to San Miguel Market, which is this old iron-roofed building (built at the time of the Eiffel Tower when iron was so in) that has been renovated into an upscale wine/cheese/appetizer place. Had a nice dinner. Bri, feeling adventurous, blindly ordered some fish that we didn't know. Turned out to be these aquatic worms, so you all know how she received that. They were interesting. If you closed your eyes, they tasted all right, but looking at the bowl, I more than half expected them to start squirming around.
Bri and mom went off to Barcelona yesterday. I'm here in Madrid taking my classes and hanging out. Off to Amsterdam to see them Friday and spend the weekend there.
Much love from Spain.
Besotes.
lunes, 13 de septiembre de 2010
Great, enjoyable things have been happening here, and I will soon write to you all about them. For the moment, before I forget, I'm going to post my address in case you'd like to GoogleMap my location, send me adorable letters or what have you.
In headline news, Ms. Jeanne Mooty just arrived in Madrid. A very exciting moment. She and Bri will be here for the day (yep). Then they're off to Barcelona and we'll all reunite in Amsterdam for the weekend. I'm taken aback by the fact that two of my family members are here with me. It's pretty dang special.
The address without further ado:
10 Calle Augusto Figueroa 4º izq. (4th floor, left)
Madrid, España 28004
Besotes.
In headline news, Ms. Jeanne Mooty just arrived in Madrid. A very exciting moment. She and Bri will be here for the day (yep). Then they're off to Barcelona and we'll all reunite in Amsterdam for the weekend. I'm taken aback by the fact that two of my family members are here with me. It's pretty dang special.
The address without further ado:
10 Calle Augusto Figueroa 4º izq. (4th floor, left)
Madrid, España 28004
Besotes.
lunes, 6 de septiembre de 2010
Week 2: Spain
Bueno. A continuar.
Alright. I'm going to backtrack a bit an include a bit about Potsdam, a quaint little town that was once home to the kings of Prussia. It has gorgeous palaces. Chief among them is Sanssouci ("Without a care" in French) built by Frederich the Great, a much loved and spectacularly accomplished king of Prussia. It was a very fortunate day. It was super cloudy but it only rained when we were stopped and covered... and it rained every time we were stopped and covered. The palaces were beautiful, and I can say a lot more just by showing you the pictures instead of describing it, so I'll remember to upload those pictures to Facebook.
Off to Spain. German airports were a nightmare. They have unintuitive and unusual restrictions (like you can have as much weight as you want in your carry-on but draconian charges for extra weight in the checked luggage (like 9 euros a kg) and that buying another bag gives you no extra weight. Why would you want another bag when you can only have 20 kgs in total?). It stressed us (me) out but through some skilled packing skills we were able to fit everything in our 2 allowed carry-ons and 2 pieces of checked luggage (don't you dare try to add a purse to that). Only that my backpack weighed a solid 50 pounds. It had 2 computers, 10+ books and and everything electronical and/or deemed heavy. Whoa.
We eventually made it to Spain where we were so grateful to speak the local language. I started orientation the first morning we were here. They just sort of talked at us, instilling a good amount of fear so that we prepare ourselves and take it seriously but trying to comfort us as well. Outside of that we were looking for apartments and cellphones, transit passes and the like. My apartment is in Chueca, a predominantly gay neighborhood in Madrid and one of the nicest. It's just outside of Sol which is considered to be the center of Madrid, so I'm super close to most everything. My room is great, my bed's a double which I enjoy spreading out in, and my housemates are a wonderful gay couple. They're really supportive and excited for me, so it's fun.
I really like Madrid. Our first Spanish friends (the assistants hired by the school to help us out) very amicably informed Kara and me that we're what you'd call guiris. It's a special type of gringo for people with blond hair and blue eyes. Spain is mostly homogeneous so we stick out, but so far everyone addresses me in Spanish so at least I don't feel out of place. In line with the homogeneity, there is a totally different view here on what it means to be politically correct and all the means we Americans use to go around saying something that would potentially be offensive. Not that we've encountered that a lot but it's just interesting to be in a place where different standards are accepted.
The streets are hot and busy. I've never lived in a city so it's a different experience. I wonder how much I walk in a mile (or I suppose kilometer) basis, but I'm sure it's a ton (even after coming from Midd). Sometimes I can't decide if I like it or not, which is a weird thing to say I suppose, but let me explain. I think when I was little I always fantasized about travel and being abroad without really knowing what it was like. I love it. I love being in a foreign place and doing new things on a daily basis, being able to spend my day in a foreign language and experiencing a new culture. But at the same time it makes me really appreciate the United States and miss the control and comfort of being able to fully direct yourself in your native culture and language. The perfectionist in me beats myself up for the simple mistakes I know enough not to make in Spanish, but what I hate more than anything is the unintended rudeness that comes from being linguistically incompetent. For example, I remember Bri and I walked into a German store, in and out without saying a word. I felt so rude for not greeting the lady or telling her thank you, but it was once we had just got there and we didn't know the German to direct ourselves in the conversation. I similarly didn't want to just talk to her in English because that wouldn't be any more polite, so I was stuck in an awkward spot. Here in Spain I make some errors, too, and it's just an uncomfortable sensation. (I just wrote incomfortable like incómodo and couldn't realize why spell-check thought it was wrong).
Last weekend I was in Valencia with Bri. We hardly moved ourselves from the beach except to eat delicious paella, so overall I'd say it was an abounding success. The only problem is that day 1 in the morning, B sprayed me with sunscreen. That night we noticed that I had horribly awkward splotches of burnt skin. You could see how the spray had missed those exact spots. A real life experiment in the success of sunscreen. The beach was beautiful. So was the sea and the skyline of the town down the shore. Loved it all. I'm pretty sure that if it wasn't for what they were going to charge her to stay and the impending work start date, B would have never left.
Now I'm in Madrid again. Had the first day of "classes" today, but instead of classes they made us miss them all to take a tour and have a lunch with the international students. I mean really: we're already international, we already don't speak the language as natives, and you have us skip the first day? Oh well, they just said, as they always do in Spain (a favorite phrase of mine, too): No pasa nada (lit. "Nothing happens," or better "Don't worry about it").
Got my first round of groceries today and about to make myself dinner for the first time in my new apartment. I have 4 classes that I'm going to try out tomorrow: Game theory, Theory of literature, Modern history of Spain and Economic progress in Spain. In total they are going to be 8 hours of class, so I'm already thinking about bailing on one or two because I only need to have 2 classes at Getafe (I'll make up a full load with 1 class with Middlebury and an internship). We'll see how it goes.
Feeling hungry so I'm off to cook. Much love to you all.
j
Alright. I'm going to backtrack a bit an include a bit about Potsdam, a quaint little town that was once home to the kings of Prussia. It has gorgeous palaces. Chief among them is Sanssouci ("Without a care" in French) built by Frederich the Great, a much loved and spectacularly accomplished king of Prussia. It was a very fortunate day. It was super cloudy but it only rained when we were stopped and covered... and it rained every time we were stopped and covered. The palaces were beautiful, and I can say a lot more just by showing you the pictures instead of describing it, so I'll remember to upload those pictures to Facebook.
Off to Spain. German airports were a nightmare. They have unintuitive and unusual restrictions (like you can have as much weight as you want in your carry-on but draconian charges for extra weight in the checked luggage (like 9 euros a kg) and that buying another bag gives you no extra weight. Why would you want another bag when you can only have 20 kgs in total?). It stressed us (me) out but through some skilled packing skills we were able to fit everything in our 2 allowed carry-ons and 2 pieces of checked luggage (don't you dare try to add a purse to that). Only that my backpack weighed a solid 50 pounds. It had 2 computers, 10+ books and and everything electronical and/or deemed heavy. Whoa.
We eventually made it to Spain where we were so grateful to speak the local language. I started orientation the first morning we were here. They just sort of talked at us, instilling a good amount of fear so that we prepare ourselves and take it seriously but trying to comfort us as well. Outside of that we were looking for apartments and cellphones, transit passes and the like. My apartment is in Chueca, a predominantly gay neighborhood in Madrid and one of the nicest. It's just outside of Sol which is considered to be the center of Madrid, so I'm super close to most everything. My room is great, my bed's a double which I enjoy spreading out in, and my housemates are a wonderful gay couple. They're really supportive and excited for me, so it's fun.
I really like Madrid. Our first Spanish friends (the assistants hired by the school to help us out) very amicably informed Kara and me that we're what you'd call guiris. It's a special type of gringo for people with blond hair and blue eyes. Spain is mostly homogeneous so we stick out, but so far everyone addresses me in Spanish so at least I don't feel out of place. In line with the homogeneity, there is a totally different view here on what it means to be politically correct and all the means we Americans use to go around saying something that would potentially be offensive. Not that we've encountered that a lot but it's just interesting to be in a place where different standards are accepted.
The streets are hot and busy. I've never lived in a city so it's a different experience. I wonder how much I walk in a mile (or I suppose kilometer) basis, but I'm sure it's a ton (even after coming from Midd). Sometimes I can't decide if I like it or not, which is a weird thing to say I suppose, but let me explain. I think when I was little I always fantasized about travel and being abroad without really knowing what it was like. I love it. I love being in a foreign place and doing new things on a daily basis, being able to spend my day in a foreign language and experiencing a new culture. But at the same time it makes me really appreciate the United States and miss the control and comfort of being able to fully direct yourself in your native culture and language. The perfectionist in me beats myself up for the simple mistakes I know enough not to make in Spanish, but what I hate more than anything is the unintended rudeness that comes from being linguistically incompetent. For example, I remember Bri and I walked into a German store, in and out without saying a word. I felt so rude for not greeting the lady or telling her thank you, but it was once we had just got there and we didn't know the German to direct ourselves in the conversation. I similarly didn't want to just talk to her in English because that wouldn't be any more polite, so I was stuck in an awkward spot. Here in Spain I make some errors, too, and it's just an uncomfortable sensation. (I just wrote incomfortable like incómodo and couldn't realize why spell-check thought it was wrong).
Last weekend I was in Valencia with Bri. We hardly moved ourselves from the beach except to eat delicious paella, so overall I'd say it was an abounding success. The only problem is that day 1 in the morning, B sprayed me with sunscreen. That night we noticed that I had horribly awkward splotches of burnt skin. You could see how the spray had missed those exact spots. A real life experiment in the success of sunscreen. The beach was beautiful. So was the sea and the skyline of the town down the shore. Loved it all. I'm pretty sure that if it wasn't for what they were going to charge her to stay and the impending work start date, B would have never left.
Now I'm in Madrid again. Had the first day of "classes" today, but instead of classes they made us miss them all to take a tour and have a lunch with the international students. I mean really: we're already international, we already don't speak the language as natives, and you have us skip the first day? Oh well, they just said, as they always do in Spain (a favorite phrase of mine, too): No pasa nada (lit. "Nothing happens," or better "Don't worry about it").
Got my first round of groceries today and about to make myself dinner for the first time in my new apartment. I have 4 classes that I'm going to try out tomorrow: Game theory, Theory of literature, Modern history of Spain and Economic progress in Spain. In total they are going to be 8 hours of class, so I'm already thinking about bailing on one or two because I only need to have 2 classes at Getafe (I'll make up a full load with 1 class with Middlebury and an internship). We'll see how it goes.
Feeling hungry so I'm off to cook. Much love to you all.
j
Week 1: Germany
Whoo. (Sigh of relief). I finally created my blog. After realizing that not having a catchy name for my blog probably wasn't an adequate excuse for not creating it, I have finally taken the step into this unknown territory where I write about I don't know what in the language I'm not supposed to be using. Hopefully some inspired ideas will stem from the discourse, and for fear of losing contact with all you loved ones back home, I know that this is a necessary step.
Like I said, the name for the blog lacked inspiration. When Brianna was writing her blog in Germany, each day we'd try to come up with some awesome quote that we had heard or said that summarized the day or at least added some fun flavor (like Brianna's elegant: "I want that guys porkchop" (context intentionally excluded) or Berlin's favorite self-description, "Poor but sexy." If I come up with something a little more creative than "Jason in Spain" (but what wouldn't be?), I'll change that.
Anyways.
I have now been in Europe for some 16 days. Half of which was spent in Europe with my sister Brianna and the other half has been here in Spain (also significantly with Brianna). For those of you I've kept less in contact with, I'm here in Madrid for the next 5 months studying at la Universidad de Carlos III de Madrid. It's a very well-respected social sciences university here in Spain with the country's best economic program, so it should be a good time.
A quick run through of Germany (those of you with ties to the family or excellent Facebook stalking skills can see Brianna's much more detailed blog for more of this time). Bri and I arrived in Munich, Germany on Saturday, August 21st. Jet-legged, we did little more that Saturday than fall asleep for a good 5 hour nap in our hotel, wander the city a bit and encounter our first traditionally German meal. My attempt at ordering a hot bratwurst like sausage only obtained an awkward, cold, wet pile of sausage with a random assortment of pickled vegetables. Ambiguous commentary ensued.
The next day we were off to Dachau for an educational and poignant tour of the concentration camp there. They have reconstructed two of the barracks that housed the prisoners and the original main building still stands so we were able to tour all of that as well as the crematorium. They showed us a video that had a lot of footage and pictures from the era and it was completely overwhelming. Lots of shots of piled corpses, desperately thin bodies and atrociously brutal treatment. By the time we made it to the museum at the end of our tour, I wasn't really sure how much more information I was able to process. Overall, I was struck primarily by the sheer brutality of it all, but also by the lack of awareness following the events--what wasn't learned. In the 60s or 70s they created a piece of art that includes representations of the different patches that were placed on the prisoners (colored Stars of David or triangles denoting the reasons for internment). Although the artist had originally included all the persecuted groups, the final piece neglected 2 colors: the pink triangles of the homosexuals and the black triangles of the asocials (people that didn't live with or in society, today the German word refers to homeless people). It's that even then those groups were so heavily stigmatized that their pain wasn't recognized. It's disheartening that even after such tragedy, human rights are slow to grow. I always wanted to envision post-war times as a thoughtful reconciliation instead of simple ceasefire while tensions resume.
I think it was that night that was had our first, mostly uncomfortable German bar experience. Brianna's several translations of "soda water" went completely misunderstood, but once we finally got our drinks, we were left alone in the corner, unable to genuinely start a conversation with anyone (we speak very little German) or did anyone really seem open to that experience. So much for meeting super attractive German lovers.
The following day we were to Neuschwanstein and the surrounding area. It was beautiful (see pictures on Facebook). We learned a ton about the crazy (but actually sane) King Ludwig II who built his dream castles seemingly in an effort to recapture his lost youth. His parents had forbidden that their two sons associate with other children, which certainly helped in leading Ludwig's brother to his eventual home in an insane asylum. Our guide heavily suggested that Ludwig II was the lover of Wagner (the source of all sources, Wikipedia, did not confirm this explicitly) but it's clear that Ludwig was obsessed with the man. More or less each of the finished rooms in Ludwig II's Neuschwanstein is a tribute to a Wagner work. Eventually, after proclaiming that he was going to fire his entire cabinet, Ludwig ended up dead in a lake, very mysteriously. There had been a psychologist that a few days previously had declared Ludwig insane (which he did without meeting the king). The psychologist also was found dead in that same lake. Very fishy. Coming back to modern day history, we took a very nice bike ride around the countryside. I bought a series of magic dvds. Prepare yourselves to be impressed.
After Munich came Berlin, which like it's self-description claims, I found to be surprisingly poor. I always assumed it was some big, bustling European metropolis. It is not. During the Cold War, the world powers were pouring money into Berlin because it was such a significant symbol, and therefore the city prospered then, but once the Wall fell down, they all headed out of town and didn't leave much. The city was conveniently able to construct a new downtown in the former no-man's land of the wall, but unfortunately most of these buildings are somewhat/mostly empty. We did a lot of interesting things, all of which I won't recount here, but here are a couple more tidbits: We climbed (in elevator) to the top of the Soviet-era TV tour (a slightly taller response to the West Berlin version) where we got beautiful views of the city, but I most liked the comparison you could make between West and East Berlin. In East Berlin you have all the communist style concrete buildings, and in West there is much more of the traditional German look. I particularly find this part of German history because the Wall fell mere months before I was born, so I like to think how reunified Germany is really only as old as I am. We went to this really awesome club in East Berlin in an old Soviet warehouse. Aesthetically very cool. However, it turns out that Germans don't dance together. They all face in one direction and face the large speakers blasting techno music and sort of dance a bit. Super different. We were really missing our posse during this time because going out with two is a bit unfortunate.
I'm just realizing now that this entry is probably getting really long, and if you all are anything like me (which I hope you're not) you'd look at this really long entry and feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe skim it a bit, but not really want to take all the time necessary to read it. Thus I am going to pause, publish this German recap, and begin anew with Spain.
Like I said, the name for the blog lacked inspiration. When Brianna was writing her blog in Germany, each day we'd try to come up with some awesome quote that we had heard or said that summarized the day or at least added some fun flavor (like Brianna's elegant: "I want that guys porkchop" (context intentionally excluded) or Berlin's favorite self-description, "Poor but sexy." If I come up with something a little more creative than "Jason in Spain" (but what wouldn't be?), I'll change that.
Anyways.
I have now been in Europe for some 16 days. Half of which was spent in Europe with my sister Brianna and the other half has been here in Spain (also significantly with Brianna). For those of you I've kept less in contact with, I'm here in Madrid for the next 5 months studying at la Universidad de Carlos III de Madrid. It's a very well-respected social sciences university here in Spain with the country's best economic program, so it should be a good time.
A quick run through of Germany (those of you with ties to the family or excellent Facebook stalking skills can see Brianna's much more detailed blog for more of this time). Bri and I arrived in Munich, Germany on Saturday, August 21st. Jet-legged, we did little more that Saturday than fall asleep for a good 5 hour nap in our hotel, wander the city a bit and encounter our first traditionally German meal. My attempt at ordering a hot bratwurst like sausage only obtained an awkward, cold, wet pile of sausage with a random assortment of pickled vegetables. Ambiguous commentary ensued.
The next day we were off to Dachau for an educational and poignant tour of the concentration camp there. They have reconstructed two of the barracks that housed the prisoners and the original main building still stands so we were able to tour all of that as well as the crematorium. They showed us a video that had a lot of footage and pictures from the era and it was completely overwhelming. Lots of shots of piled corpses, desperately thin bodies and atrociously brutal treatment. By the time we made it to the museum at the end of our tour, I wasn't really sure how much more information I was able to process. Overall, I was struck primarily by the sheer brutality of it all, but also by the lack of awareness following the events--what wasn't learned. In the 60s or 70s they created a piece of art that includes representations of the different patches that were placed on the prisoners (colored Stars of David or triangles denoting the reasons for internment). Although the artist had originally included all the persecuted groups, the final piece neglected 2 colors: the pink triangles of the homosexuals and the black triangles of the asocials (people that didn't live with or in society, today the German word refers to homeless people). It's that even then those groups were so heavily stigmatized that their pain wasn't recognized. It's disheartening that even after such tragedy, human rights are slow to grow. I always wanted to envision post-war times as a thoughtful reconciliation instead of simple ceasefire while tensions resume.
I think it was that night that was had our first, mostly uncomfortable German bar experience. Brianna's several translations of "soda water" went completely misunderstood, but once we finally got our drinks, we were left alone in the corner, unable to genuinely start a conversation with anyone (we speak very little German) or did anyone really seem open to that experience. So much for meeting super attractive German lovers.
The following day we were to Neuschwanstein and the surrounding area. It was beautiful (see pictures on Facebook). We learned a ton about the crazy (but actually sane) King Ludwig II who built his dream castles seemingly in an effort to recapture his lost youth. His parents had forbidden that their two sons associate with other children, which certainly helped in leading Ludwig's brother to his eventual home in an insane asylum. Our guide heavily suggested that Ludwig II was the lover of Wagner (the source of all sources, Wikipedia, did not confirm this explicitly) but it's clear that Ludwig was obsessed with the man. More or less each of the finished rooms in Ludwig II's Neuschwanstein is a tribute to a Wagner work. Eventually, after proclaiming that he was going to fire his entire cabinet, Ludwig ended up dead in a lake, very mysteriously. There had been a psychologist that a few days previously had declared Ludwig insane (which he did without meeting the king). The psychologist also was found dead in that same lake. Very fishy. Coming back to modern day history, we took a very nice bike ride around the countryside. I bought a series of magic dvds. Prepare yourselves to be impressed.
After Munich came Berlin, which like it's self-description claims, I found to be surprisingly poor. I always assumed it was some big, bustling European metropolis. It is not. During the Cold War, the world powers were pouring money into Berlin because it was such a significant symbol, and therefore the city prospered then, but once the Wall fell down, they all headed out of town and didn't leave much. The city was conveniently able to construct a new downtown in the former no-man's land of the wall, but unfortunately most of these buildings are somewhat/mostly empty. We did a lot of interesting things, all of which I won't recount here, but here are a couple more tidbits: We climbed (in elevator) to the top of the Soviet-era TV tour (a slightly taller response to the West Berlin version) where we got beautiful views of the city, but I most liked the comparison you could make between West and East Berlin. In East Berlin you have all the communist style concrete buildings, and in West there is much more of the traditional German look. I particularly find this part of German history because the Wall fell mere months before I was born, so I like to think how reunified Germany is really only as old as I am. We went to this really awesome club in East Berlin in an old Soviet warehouse. Aesthetically very cool. However, it turns out that Germans don't dance together. They all face in one direction and face the large speakers blasting techno music and sort of dance a bit. Super different. We were really missing our posse during this time because going out with two is a bit unfortunate.
I'm just realizing now that this entry is probably getting really long, and if you all are anything like me (which I hope you're not) you'd look at this really long entry and feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe skim it a bit, but not really want to take all the time necessary to read it. Thus I am going to pause, publish this German recap, and begin anew with Spain.
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