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