Barb's Grand Adventure

Duck Hunt

2010-10-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

As of last week, I am a hunter. Actually, I am not. I have gone duck hunting twice thus far, and have the day off today and plan on going this afternoon. Duck hunting for me involves canoeing down a lazy river while Case looks for ducks, or walking in the most pristine rivers and woods of Maine.

The first hunt was along the Royal River in North Yarmouth. Case, Folsom, and I set out in a rickety canoe that Casey found abandoned and almost drowned recovering it. We met a beaver who display his power and aggression by slapping his tail in the water and running away like a pansy. The sun set before we ever saw a duck, but we got to witness dusk on the water and a slightly scary docking in the dark.

My second hunt was on foot in Windham/Gorham area along the Presumpscot River. We passed along little paths leading to obvious summer ragers. The remains of many a bonfire and drunken summer night reminded me of the changing season. Although I was bundled and dressed for "the hunt," I could feel cold air sneaking up under my clothing and the chill on my face. Once again, we did not see a duck, and we did not shoot. My favorite spot of this hunt was an old bridge. It is the oldest bridge in Old Falmouth (which is now Windham, Gorham, and most towns in Cumberland County). The covered wooden bridge across the river has not seemed to change at all. While walking across it, I felt like I could be back in 1843.

In conclusion, I am a hunter if it means I get to explore the outdoors and see life and beauty with Casey's company. I am sure that today Casey will actually shoot a duck, and I will be slightly scarred, but for now, I am enjoying the experience.

Fall is for falling

2010-10-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like a New England Fall, of this I am certain. Last year I missed the fall when I was studying abroad in Spain, and so I'm appreciating it more than ever this year. I find myself slipping out of my sleepy downtown studio early in the morning and walking. I love to bundle up in a scarf and a cute Fall coat with a warm cup of tea in hand. Actually, right now I am enjoying a pumpkin latte at my favorite coffee shop, conveniently located on my block. Before writing this, I was looking up recipes for Fall soups, apple crisps, and pumpkin pancakes. I am just a Fall junky. I love the clothing, food, the trees bursting into color, and the way the crisp air makes me feel alive. My friend Evie told me that if I talk about the trees one more time she will kill me, but I cannot stop. I love Fall. I love it.

I think growing up surrounded by apple orchards started my love for Fall. I love that the treetops touch over the road, framing my perfect little world. You can smell the apples ripening and the cider being made as you walk down my crooked, country road during apple season. Any other time of the year, my street is vacant. You may see the occasional road bike gang, but on most days, I might just be the last human on the planet. Not during apple season. Families, kids, and pets flood the orchards. There is life.

I find myself feeling that "new love" feeling as I walk through downtown Portland. I don't have the will power to abstain from speaking rapidly and incessantly about my love, so Evie, and any other person who wants to kill me for my redundancy, just remember, winter is coming and then I will be heartbroken over my lost love. Let my love spell run its course.

Lessons from the Garden

2010-06-14T09:46:00.000-07:00

A lifetime has passed since my last blog. To summarize: my parents visited me in Spain, I traveled all over Europe, came home, went to school, came home again with mono, went back to school again, graduated college (woot woot), came home for good, planted a garden, met my 6 wonderful little chickens, and started working at a country club. Life is abundant and good. I can't remember being so joyful... ever. So that is my mini update. I think I will continue blogging. Barb's Grand Adventure in Europe has ended, but there are endless adventures yet to be had.

Lessons from the Garden

Today was my first day off in a long time. I was pumped about the great things I could do in my free day. I woke up, read some of Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, worked on a crocheted baby blanket for a friend, and then took a shower. After my shower, I was convinced that I needed to do something nice for myself. So I put on a cute outfit and got ready to go shopping, clearly forgetting anything I had read about the extremely improvised people who don't make enough money in an entire year to buy the outfit I was currently wearing. I was running out to my car to go indulge in some consumerism, when I looked down at the dry soil in my mom's garden of black-eyed susans.

I decided to water my gardens before heading out. I slipped off my my purple flats with the cute gold studs, tossed them aside, and sported my crocs, which completed the outfit quite horridly. I filled up my little metal watering can and made several trips from the kitchen in my house out to various gardens in my yard, and lastly, my vegetable garden. I am a very particular veggie-grower. I consider myself a purist: starting from seeds, refusing miracle grow and other chemicals. I believe that plants will just do their own thing if you give them a little love. And trust me.. I give my plants a lot of love. I call them my babies, talk to them, and water them constantly. I take great pride in them too, incessantly begging my family members to take a look at how much Green Pepper or Plum Tomato has grown.

Today I noticed some of my plants were not making much progress in the growing department. As I was watering my I grew angry with my plants. I was livid that the only lettuce that is thriving is the spicy mix and how I don't want a spicy and bitter salad. I said out loud, "Romaine Lettuce, you are so small and stupid, you too Baby Spinach, and Cucumber, you disgust me. Day after day, I water you, I weed you, it has been sunny, the soil is rich. You have EVERYTHING you could possibly want, yet you refuse to thrive! JUST GROW!"

After my verbally abusive conversation with my plants had ended, I thought for a moment, "Is this how God feels about me?" Last week I attended a planning meeting for my bible study where people said they just weren't growing, myself included. I started to imagine what God would say to me. How He would tell me that I am selfish and not growing, yet He had given me my family, my friends, fellowship, Monday Night, Friday Night, church, books, health, food, clothing, provisions, excellent books written by knowledgeable people, and more importantly: His Word, His Son, His Holy Spirit, and a world full of wonder and amazement. I have been tending my garden for the past 7 weeks, but God has been providing opportunities for me to grow for the past 22 years and planning out my life since forever. I am thankful that He is infinitely patient with me, that He prompts me to grow daily, and that He refuses to leave me as I am.

Madrid and Segovia!

2009-12-21T08:31:00.000-08:00

Arrive in Madrid via train, feeling good. Life is good. I go to the McDonald's across from the station, where I would meet up with Maria, a girl I had met the week before and planned on staying with in Madrid. So I waited. And waited, and paced.. and was glared at by the workers there because I had not bought anything. Three hours later, I decided to call her.. it was 9pm and I was feeling.. well, like I was homeless in Madrid in the winter (it is cold in Madrid, there was ice on the streets and they actually just had a blizzard today). Marie picks up and apologizes, but tells me that she is in Paris. Umm.. WHAT.

So the hostel hunt begins. I find one located in the center of town for just 16 euros (24 dollars), so I take it. I go to the my room, a colorful room filled with 5 beds. I am the only person in this room, which I thought was nice. So I start relaxing and getting ready for bed. Unfortunately, the hostel does not provide blankets. So I sleep in all of the clothing that I packed, which consisted of: a long sleeve shirt, a t-shirt, a sweat shirt, a pair of spandex pants, and a pair of jeans. I wore on scarf around my neck, and tried to use the other as a blanket. MADRID IS COLD. The drafty old hostel didn't help. I quickly realized that the double french doors leading to the balcony was not romantic, but rather my nemesis. I literally could feel the wind pushing cold air through the thin glass doors and into the room. Oh well. The next day I mentioned this to the owner and he said that "one person's worth of heat" was in that room.. and if there were 5 people in there, he could afford to heat it. Great.

Madrid was wonderful! The Palacio Real, the Cathedral, the monasteries, parks, plazas, EVERYTHING was just amazing. I walked and walked and walked. I got to see all of the buildings and monuments and actually understand what it was all about because of the classes I have taken! I saw Carlos III on his horse with a plaque that said

"The Reformist" and I was like.. yep.. he was one of the great Spanish reformists of the 18th century in Spain.. him and the rest of his Bourbon family, they did good things for Spain!

<-Cathedral in Madrid

My favorite stop in Madrid was el Museo de Prado. This is a HUGE museum that housed over 70 rooms with artwork. I weaved in and out from room to room trying to see everything. At some point, I realized that I would never see all that I wanted to see or do all that I wanted to do. I started to cry! In the middle of the Prado, I just started crying! A man asked me what was wrong and I responded "Hay tantas cosas para ver aquí, y no solamente aquí, pero en todo del mundo, y nunca podería ver toda" (there are so many things to see here, and not only here, but in all of the world and I never could be able to see it all). He laughed, then smiled and told me that's life, but we do what we can. I appreciated his kindness during my absolutely absurd state! This was the greatest art museum I have been to in my life! It was just phenomenal! I got to see rooms full of Goya, after learning about him in class and his ridiculous desire to conquer Portugal and divid it among England, France, and Goya. His work was very dark and disturbing. While going through the Prado, it occurred to me that the art world is lacking a complete portrayal of a woman. I saw painting after painting of agreeable, well-behaved women without even the slightest hint of a wild, adventurous side.

Hostel disaster number two: jerk from the day before tells me they don't have a bed to spare... but waits until 8pm to tell me this. Thus begins hostel hunt number two. I found an agreeable hostel. I stayed in a room with 13 other people, all paired up in bunk beds. My bunk bed buddy was Austria man in his 30s who snored heavily all night. Hostel number two provided blankets, but it was 19 euros instead of 16. No computers to use though. That is alright with me! Stay there and leave early the next day for Segovia.

I love love loved Segovia! It was the essence of a picturesque ancient European city! It's windy cobblestone roads, old city walls, gothic cathedral and roman palace all with a backdrop of beautiful snow covered mountains stole my heart. It seriously was the most romantic little place I have ever been. I went to the Cathedral where Isabella was given the crown of Castile, the Palace where Ferdinand and Isabel first met, I saw the bedroom where she slept. It was like all of the history that I have learned for the past four months was real. It had been an story Professor Clermont told, until I went and SAW it!

<-Aqueducts of Segovia

Hostel disaster number 3: no bathroom access.

A walk to the train turned out to be quite the adventure too. I had out my little Spain travel guide with a little map. An arrow pointed down a main street and off the map saying "to AVE Station". The AVE station is where the fast trains go from.. meaning I could use my Eurail pass and save a couple of euros. So I headed out with my pack. And walked. And walked. And it was beautiful: there were rolling fields and pastures, little ancient rock structures scattered about, and snow covered mountains. An hour passed, no train station in sight and the snowy mountains were much closer. I asked someone and he said "at the second traffic circle, take a left". I got to the second traffic circle, and the left was a dirt road into a field. So I asked someone else, who told me "at the second traffic circle, take a left". I got to the second traffic circle, but a left just didn't seem right, so I continued on. I found a gas station and asked in there, they said two more intersections and then take a left. At this point I was I knew on thing for sure: at some point, there would be a traffic circle and the station would be on the left. A red car passing honked at me and I waved and smiled. I really was in a good mood regardless of the whole situation (it must have been the fresh mountain air). The red car was headed in the opposite direction as me.. towards a traffic circle. And then I heard the honk again, he had turned around! Okay, I know this is dangerous.. but I had been hiking for three hours with no train in sight! He asked where I was going and I said the AVE station and he said it was close. He said he has seen people all his life try to walk to the AVE station from Segovia and that I had made it farther than anyone he had ever seen. So he drove me about half a mile down the road, took a LEFT at the traffic circle, and wished me well on my travels. Success! Caught the last train out of Segovia to Madrid, took a local train to the Atocha station in Madrid, caught my train back to Barcelona and arrived home for dinner!

Tea for Brides to Be

2009-12-07T04:37:00.000-08:00

So I periodically get this email from Messiah.. announcing that I am invited to a Tea for Brides to Be... well actually not me, but people just like me who just happen to be in love... and someone happens to love them back... and happened to buy them a ring, which is now worn proudly around their finger. Congrats brides to be!! I hope you really enjoy the tea and the chit chat with the nurse about the wedding night.

Every time that I receive this email, I want to just show up, ringless, a little greasy and in sweatpants. I wonder what would happen. I think it would be funny, but I am pretty sure I would offend a ton of people, so I never have. Well my RSVP this time would be: "Really sorry I won't make it, I'll be in Spain.. maybe next time". If there is another one in the Spring, I might not be able to resist.. I might just attend. If I do, I will let you all know how it goes and any good tid bits that I have learned.

One of the many joys of attending a Christian college: the raise to the wedding chapel.

Take Me As I Am

2009-12-07T03:35:00.001-08:00

Earlier in the semester, Caitlin and I stopped in a really neat CD store on a little alley headed towards our University. We occasionally would stop there and pick out a CD, or ask them what was CD was playing, because they always had great taste in music. Once we stumbled upon an album titled “Still Night, Still Light” by Au Revoir Simone. I have no recollection of what about it stuck out to us, but we wrote it down one a little scrap of paper, which was inevitably lost, and then found again at some point. This album eventually made its way onto my iTunes and has since then been rising on my “Most Played” playlist, or in particular, the song “Take Me As I Am”. It is a short song, a simple song, just hitting 2 minutes and 23 seconds. The message is pure, plain, and und unpolluted. Some of the lyrics are:

“Do you know when you were already born

Do you know this is the way it would be

Do you know that when you were already born

You were already you

and I already me

So take me as I am

Take me as I am

I know,

it’s easier said than done”

I think I like it because sometimes I feel like I am just too much. I am too wild, too spastic, too intense, or maybe too flighty. I like to dance and look like a fool. I like to sing along with songs and I usually laugh longer and harder than most. Sometimes I try to train myself to be better behaved. Or try to “do” better. Guess what... I am done trying to do better, done trying to behave. I was born full of life, with a spirit of adventure, a spirit of mischief (disclaimer: harmless mischief). My grandma Hazel always used to say that I had a mischievous twinkle in my eye, even as a baby. Well folks, that twinkle isn’t going anywhere. It IS me! I am a world shaker (Cool Hand Luke reference)! I will not be tamed.

And whoever you are... yeah you, that person who doesn’t take me as I am, that person looking at me on the metro when I unrestrainedly bob my head to the music blaring in my headphones, or that boy who was just waiting for me to settle down, well you will have to wait a long time, because I am not going to change! Deal with it!

I’m saying this only under the parameters that I am willing to take you as you are. Who ever you are, I appreciate you. I appreciate your spirit, which is God given and so inherently and intrinsically connected to who you are. I appreciate your story, I want to know your story, to respect you by listening to your story. I want to know who you are, who you truly are. It is a shame we are both behaving and not breaking social norms, but rather riding a metro in silence. I will never know you, but I accept you.

**For clarity sake, I am not talking about not improving yourself, because I am always seeking to make progress and better myself through reading, education, experiences, discipline, etc., but rather referring to that which doesn’t change about us, the core of who we are, the good things that make us unique. I don’t want to change those things about myself.

I'm in Spain.. really close to France.. the birthplace of French toast... right?

2009-12-06T02:44:00.000-08:00

One of my FAVORITE breakfast foods is french toast. It is super rico. My uncle David makes the best french toast ever. It actually is not even a contest. It is one of my favorite foods that he makes, and he is an amazing cook, so that is saying a lot. Breakfasts in Spain have been.. well kind of lacking to say the least. I usually get a bland cupcake-esque "breakfast" or something of a sort. I have missed the eggs, the pancakes, or maybe just having the choice to start my morning with the food of my choice. ANYWAYS..

After about five days without olive oil in my little Spanish apartment (note: I am not responsible for groceries, I have paid the woman I live with for food already..) we finally got some olive oil! For those of you who don't know, it is practically a sin to be without olive oil in Europe. In fact, Caitlin told her host mom that I didn't have olive oil for three days and she was like "no olive oil! no eggs! poor girl!"... she just figured that olive oil, like eggs is essential and that we must not have either. Caitlin likened my predicament to being a baker without flour. Anyways, we got olive oil back in the house and my nerves were definitely calmed.

Last night I arrived home late and missed dinner, but my ration of bread was sitting out becoming hard as a rock, which Fina rightly noted. I was like "Don't worry, I'll eat it tomorrow" and she said "you will break a tooth on that bread". I just smiled and headed into my room, knowing that Fina would be gone alllll day today and I could stay in my pjs and not make my bed until I felt like it. (Don't worry, all of these random thoughts are about to join together...)

This morning I woke at approximately 7:30, however, laid in bed until 7:55 when I heard the door close and the tinkering of the locks in the front door. Fina has left the building (little fist pump). I hop out of bed and into the living room without making my bed or putting slippers on (slipper are essential in Spanish homes). I go into the kitchen and look at the bread from the night before, about a 1/4 of a baguette. I inspect it... hitting it a couple of times against the counter and of course, it is as hard as a rock. Ah ha! French toast time. Stale bread= perfect french toast. I take out a knife and begin to saw this baguette into slices. "Saw dust" and chips are flying all over the place. Keep in mind, Fina does not exactly like me to cook. In fact, she has never let me. I think she thinks I am just incapable of everything. I get out a pan and begin heating up some blessed olive oil, just oh so thankful for its return into the household. I grab an egg from the refrigerator and realize we are out of milk, go figure. Press on! I crack an egg... beat it up really good. Upon opening the spice cabinet I realize that this may be a little trickier without the right supplies. I usually like to make french toast with vanilla, cinnamon (sometimes nutmeg), a little maple syrup, sugar, milk, and eggs. Here is what I managed to find: cinnamon (unopened, but not for long), brown sugar, white sugar, and honey. Well close enough right? So I mix up my concoction and begin soaking the break in it. Perfect timing, the oil is ready. Cooked those bad boys up... sprinkled a little sugar on top for good measure and walaaaa! Wonderful breakfast and a little taste of home. I then opened the kitchen window, turned on the cooking fan and cleaned every single utensil, pan, bowl and plate the I used. The sweet smell of french toast still linger, but oh well!

My morning continued to be wonderful far beyond my hearty breakfast. I stayed in my pjs and unwashed. I brought my laptop into the living room and sat in FINA'S CHAIR (a greenish recliner that she spends all of her time in watching law and order or awful Spanish game shows in) watching first flipper and then Will and Grace in Spanish while writing my Spanish Civil War term paper. Don't worry mom, I DID get a lot of my paper done. I think the Spanish TV shows helped get my Spanish thoughts flowing or something.

It is only noon and my day has already shaped up to be a great success. Oh, also, I am going to a lunch party with some people from the Barcelona International Cooking Club. It should be delicious, however, I am concerned about the host... from his posts on couchsurfing.com he seems like he might be a little stuck up. Veremos!

The Blues Brothers

2009-12-05T05:46:00.000-08:00

One of my mom's favorite movies is "The Blues Brothers". It's right up there with "Planes, Trains and Automobiles". What can I say, my mom has really great taste... although I might only be saying that because those are two movies that I really enjoy as well.

What do Spain and the Blues Brothers have in common? Absolutely nothing, except that last night a Spanish dubbed version happened to be on TV. Last night Fina and her grandson entered our apartment at approximately 10:27pm. I was a little shocked because Fina usually comes home to feed me around 8:30pm and the few times that I have made my own dinner she wasn't very pleased. So I waited patiently for two hours for dinner, which didn't bother me one bit because I was falling in love with Spanish history, aka writing my Spanish Civil War paper (I really love Spanish History, that was not sarcasm).

So Fina cooked me up an egg and I chatted with her grandson, Eric. I love Eric, we have great conversations, he is so great. Okay, he is also ten, but that is beside the point. I think he might be my favorite Spanish person. Anyways! We talked about the cagatio (I will do a post later more extensively about this.. it deserves its own post). But in short, the cagatio is a ridiculous log that generally looks kind of like this:

So Eric cannot believe that Americans don't have cagatios for Christmas. Cagatios are logs that they "feed" every day before Christmas and then on Christmas the fam. yells "CAGA! CAGA! CAGA!" which means "POOP! POOP! POOP!" And then the parents make presents come out!

Anyways. None of that is the point. The point is that after our conversation about the pooping log, we all watched the Blues Brothers. Fina started complaining, but saying she didn't like the actor. We ignored it. Oh my gosh! So much fun. I was happy that the dubbing didn't ruin the humor. When songs came on, they asked me to translate them. I usually gave a rough, but accurate description of what the song was about. By the end of it, all three of us had fallen asleep on the couch. I headed to bed and right before falling asleep I thought, "yes, today was a good night indeed".

Yes, I am a Mainer

2009-12-04T04:29:00.000-08:00

So I now realize that Mindy was right. Mindy is always right. When we said “goodbye” in the Jones’s driveway she told me, with the face of someone who knew all too well, that Spain would be the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. What she didn’t tell me was that the first two months would be filled with the highest of highs, and the second two months would be chocked full of the lowest lows. The first two months were great. Everything was new and fresh. Bakeries on every street corner seemed like the cutest things ever and the lingering aroma of fruit stores was intoxicating. I walked around Barcelona with wide-eyed wonder as I explored a new city. Every day I noticed something new: a bright-colored door, a little shop, or a park that I swear could not have been there the day before; Every day I feel in love with Barcelona all over again.

What happened in November!? What was the great change that turned my young love into a dull disinterest in the city? Absolutely nothing in Barcelona changed. Nothing at all. It was the same as always. The leaves didn’t change, the weather didn’t change much, the stores, the interesting doors, everything was the same, it was all still there. And that seemed to be the problem: Barcelona had become common to me.

There can be something so wonderful about that which is known, that which is common, like the pattern of the changing seasons, the smell of your home, the early morning omelets with your dad on Saturdays before yard work begins, or the one general store in town which has not changed one bit since you were eight years old. The problem with something common or routine is when some place other than home becomes common. It is the one catch: the monotonous routine of the common without all of the comforts of home. Anyone can travel anywhere for a week or two and be happy, I am convinced, but try some months and the heart will feel a homeward tug. Try making a foreign land common.

I never knew I was a Mainer until I lived in Spain. I knew I liked Maine; I knew I liked my house, my family and my friends, but I didn’t really know that I loved them. I do now. Until recently I hated the awkwardness of saying “I love you” to anyone or the clumsy “goodbye” hugs that I gave my mom and dad in late August at the airport as we parted ways. I knew my brother Jacob was one of the coolest kids I know, but I did not realized how much I appreciated him, how much I was affected just by living under the same roof as him.

And then there’s my house, my little white cape and red barn in Cumberland, Maine, on Orchard Road. There has never, and will not ever exist a house with more character. From the creaky floorboards, secret nooks, horse-hair plaster walls and doors that never stay shut to the two steps that separate the kitchen and family room that Jacob trips over once a week, this place is full of personality. I love this place. Maybe I will buy it from my parents one day. I could keep up dad’s and my vegetable garden in the back. Maybe I could have a couple of kids to do yard work and wood stacking. Yeah, I think this is the life I want: a nice, simple life, full of hard work, common places and faces, and love. I think I was made to live on a little farmhouse in Cumberland, Maine, to be resilient through the winters of snow and ice, to shovel and stack wood endlessly, but to also enjoy the beauty of Maine, to pick apples and berries, to bake really great pies, and to enjoy the Cumberland Fair far more than I ought to.

Yes, I am a Mainer.

I am a bad blogger.. sorry

2009-12-01T00:06:00.000-08:00

Okay that last blog was a little extreme, especially considering I haven't posted in about months.. and even before that my bloggings were rare. A lot has happened, so I will try to touch on a couple of the big ones:

Extremely Sick
Never get sick in another country. It is just miserable and expensive.

Chocolate Fondue Party
I'm on an international cooking club in Barcelona on couchsurfing.com. I've gone to a couple of events, but my two favorites were hosted by Ingmar, a German, double-iron man competitor. One was a chocolate fondue party with wonderful fruit and snacks. The next was a raclette party which consists of this.. machine which has a grill top like area to cook meat and eggs and such, and then this little area below where each person has their own personal triangular frying pan where they can mix up creative meals with eggs, veggies, meats, and cheese! We even did a chocolate pineapple one! It was just wonderful! I love food and good company!

Mushroom Hunting Mountain Excursion
Caitlin, my partner in crime, has an intercambio (language exchange friend) who is just great! She took us to a mountain for a hike and to look for mushrooms! Don't worry, she is like a mushroom expert so it wasn't dangerous and we didn't eat anything poisonous. She wrote a book for the government on indigenous plants native to Cataluña. Anyways. We found a couple of good mushrooms, but TONS of chestnuts. Oh man, I didn't come home with many because I was just eating to my hearts delight. Barcelona knows what is up about the whole chestnuts and sweet potato being the food of Fall (and I hope winter too)!

Traditional Thanksgiving Dinner

My study abroad program organized a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner at a nice restaurant The meal started with typical Spanish "tapas" (appetizers) like bread with tomato and olive oil, artichokes, salads, etc. Next came... mashed potatoes, gravy, and turkey! Ah! I was so happy. The dessert was an "apple pie".. well actually an apple tart like thing.. pies don't really happen in Spain. Well, I was super happy and pleased to be in good company for Thanksgiving although nothing beats the holidays at home and with family. Not going to lie, the holidays are killing my morale here! Honestly, the Spanish did a great job on their Spanish rendition of Thanksgiving. Hats off to you!

Planning My Train Trip

I have continued to plan my trip for January. I am planning on going to: Madrid, Segovia Montpellier, Paris, London, Brussels, Zurich (or Bern, not sure yet), Florence, Rome, Venice, Munich, Vienna, Prague, Frankfurt, back to Barcelona and the HOME. It should be great. I am sure I will be exhausted and dirty by the end of it.

School Is Killing Me

School is really hard. Tons of work, but it is almost over. Speaking of which, back to studying.

Adiós!

Mercé Means..

2009-10-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

First of all, I just want to say, I know this is going to be ridiculously long, but really stick with it because this was like.. FIVE DAYS of AMAZING that I am trying to squeeze into one blog entry. Anyways...

La Mercé means... the best time you have ever had, EVER. No seriously, I am not at all exaggerating! I wish every week were Mercé, although I am positive that I would not be able to handle all the fun and lack of sleep.

The first I heard of Mercé was when I was half asleep and Cristina (woman from London who works for BCA) was giving us a tour of the campus said, “Yeah, here is where the giants for Mercé start out.” Which peaked my interest, but not enough to actually do much about it. Then I started seeing signs everywhere about it. Then I noticed a random Thursday off of school. So I was like, “okay WHAT is going on...”

Mercé is Spain's patron Saint week, the actual day is Thursday, but the festivities last from Wednesday to Sunday. It is a big deal here. Fina was like, "you will go out every night.. right?" She thinks I am kind of... dull because I don't have the ability to stay out late and really party like a Spaniard. And I really don’t go out too often. Anyways!

Caitlin did some awesome research and looked into bands playing and other really neat things happening. To our delight, Billie the Vision and the Dancers would be playing, along with the Hives and other bands.

Check them out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9-dakz2R_o

WEDNESDAY

We saw the giants in a parade and jumped around insanely! Our goal was to get confettied as much as possible. I think the most successful technique was the skip-clap dance. Seriously a blast! There was a concert at that plaza so Caitlin, Miguelito and I checked that out. I have no idea who it was, but Caitlin and I danced and were living it up. Miguelito left us and we proceeded to attempt a relationship with this woman who was really feeling the music. I soon realized that her armpits had not been shaved… ever.

Oh yeah, that was the night Caitlin began haggling with the street venders selling street beer. She was naturally skilled at this, but as the week went on, harnessed her rare talent.

We were home and in bed by 2am, which is SO not Spanish, but we had a big week ahead of us and couldn't get worn out on the first night of la Mercé! Oh right! I was wearing some.. mildy saggy crotch pants that I had bought for like 5 euro. They are not THE pair, but they are a good starter pair I guess. And Caitlin rocked a cute little jean dress (totally in style in España right now, go Caitlin). This was definitely a successful first day of Mercé.

THURSDAY

We went to see the stacking of people*****! Caitlin and I arrived approximately two and a half hours early and watched about 2.5 hours too many of giants dancing while squeezing into the smallest plaza ever. No, it was okay… just crowded and I was hurting from the night before. We spotted some children sitting on some metal gates on the outskirts of the plaza and made our way over there. Some nice man helped Caitlin and I climb up. It honestly was the best sitting/standing area in the whole place. I got a call from Miguelito who said "Look to your left", so I scanned the crowd of THOUSANDS to find him not far off from us. He, Aly, and Marie joined us in the best spot ever.

The CABALLEROS.. (or something like that?) started! Teams came out one by one and would make a human tower, first a man, then a smaller man, than a woman, then a mere child. Yes, a child, at the top of a tower of people. So these human towers supported by about 20 people at the base would walk through the crowd to the middle of the plaza. Then they began to construct a tower shaped like a circle with four people on each level, and with several small children at the top. The last two small children would have to go up and over this arch made by the two small children before then. The goal is to construct and deconstruct the tower without anyone falling and the fastest possible. It really was insane! I saw like two or three small children fall from ridiculously high! I think no one got hurt though…

A couple of teams went (the teams were from each neighborhood of Barcelona). The police came and told us to get down, so we were then crammed into the crowd. It was SO CROWDED and kind of on the stinky side. One of the human towers was made my five feet away from me! It was amazing!

I left there and saw some really neat little stands of people selling jewelry and clothing. I took my time going back and randomly, like an hour after parting ways, I bumped into Caitlin! In such a big city with so many people this is not a all likely. It was really convenient because she had left her keys in my purse! When she realized that I had her house keys, she sprinted through the metro station to catch me before I got on my metro headed the other direction.

The rest of the day, I just had a siesta, a Fina fight, and began to study for a ridiculously hard final that I would have the next day.. who makes a final during Mercé!? Side note: I am learning that fights with Fina are just part of life and not to take them personal.

FRIDAY

I walked to Caitlin's house (the entire opposite side of Barcelona) because I got tired of studying and wanted to waste some time. I saw all of these cute little shops that I hope to venture to again at some point in the near future! Caitlin and I studied outside of a little tapas place and had some Coke Lite. After was had done all we could to learn everything there is to know about Spanish (essentially, our test was "be able to use every one of 15 tenses in Spanish perfectly”) I headed home for lunch. Fina greeted me and started yelling at me in Spanish and I was like.. oh no! What is going on? So, I was all upset but it turned out to just be a misunderstanding. She did, however, tell me that I need to be more of a "señorita", which I took a little offense to, but no biggie.

Okay! exam and then back home! One my way home, I spotted a... well I guess it was like a goodwill. In this "goodwill" place I saw a really cute dress! Really cute and only three euros! Wonderful! It is a little black floral dress. I was pretty sure that it was some old lady dress, but it had potential to be trendy if I accessorized correctly. So I bought it! I had a siesta at home, and then put my sassy little grandma dress on and started getting ready. Okay, unfortunately, I did not have the right trendy accessories for the dress! I ended up wearing my pearls, black spandex and cute little flats. I was afraid I might be cold, so I threw on a little white sweater on my way out the door. As I was walking to meet Caitlin, I realized I looked straight up grandma and not trendy at all. Oh well, I embraced the role of Barb fully.

We met up and danced some salsa at a plaza where a band was playing. Caitlin was purchasing a street beer in the dark and made the mistake of paying with a 50 cent euro coin instead of 1 euro. She was quite pleased with the new price and managed to rip off a couple more street people. After salsa, we went to see the Go Team, a pop group from London. Okay, SERIOUSLY a good time! We managed to get extremely close to the stage. The lead singer, a cute chick with a London accent and an afro yelled "BARCELONA! HOW IS YOUR ENGLISH!?" and Caitlin replied "MY ENGLISH IS BANGING!" This man in front of us turned and asked her where she was from. She said California. He was from Missouri or somewhere (I will have to ask Caitlin, the details are all blurring). I was just minding my business, you know, getting my groove on when all of a sudden... this chick behind back-bends me! We were back to back and she just unexpectedly was bent over me and I was pretty much on the ground. I cannot explain it except to say that it was extremely awkward, shocking and euphoric all at the same time. I think I said "I just got back-bended" and "what was that!?" about ten times. The hippie girl gave me a hug from behind and said thanks! A combiaygh-kind of song came on and the Spanish hippie and her friends behind us were hugging and swaying. All of a sudden, they started saying "join us!" and grabbing Caitlin and I! I was embraced from behind, pet, and caressed on my face for the remainder of the song! The hippie man pulled Caitlin into the swaying group. Truly, unforgettable! As we were leaving, ANOTHER person stroked my hair! I have no idea what the deal was, but it was very peculiar! We called it a night, and were in bed by 2:30ish.

SATURDAY

This is the BIG night for Caitlin and me. We had planned for Correfoc, Billie the Vision and the Dancers (seriously look him up on Youtube this moment and listen to Summercat), and The Hives. I joined Caitlin at her house for dinner and then we headed out. First thing to do: find Pepe, Miguelito, Tomás and the gang at some random metro. The trouble is that there are like ten metro areas for every stop. Anyways, we kind of miraculously found them without the use of a cellphone. From there, we went to Correfoc, which I had thought was like, Spanish fireworks, but learned that it is people with dragons and metal sticks that are like HUGE sparklers that throw fire at the crowd. We had been warned to wear long sleeves, so we did, but honestly, nothing could have prepared us for this! The parade of fire goes through the streets and you are supposed to jump in with the fire people and dance in the fiery sparks! SO AMAZING. Tomás was like "Hannah, there were so many sparks in your hair" so I tied my sweater around my head!

After our fill our fire dancing, we headed off the find BILLIE THE VISION AND THE DANCERS. I was more excited for this than anything of Mercé. This was THE event that I knew I wanted to check out. So we get lost. And miss Billie. But in the process we run into a tiny plaza with a grand piano suspended 20 feet in the air.. sideways.. with some man playing it. I mean, he was no Billie, and it was disappointing, but he was pretty cool.

We finally figure out where we are going and manage to get see the end of the Hives concert. It was ridiculously packed and slightly uncomfortable, but amazing nonetheless.

After the concert, I headed out to Frankfurt's with Miguelito and Tomás and had an amazing burger! My first burger in Spain! We agreed it was an acceptable place. I was in bed by 3am, still not 6am, but baby steps! One day I will be able to do the nightlife like the Spanish do!

SUNDAY

Unfortunately, this is kind of anti-climatic. I spent Sunday adventuring. I managed to hit every corner of Barcelona in one day and saw a ton of really cool places! I had planned to meet up with Caitlin for the fireworks, but she has no cellphone and there were 800,000 or something like that crammed into the plaza and I could NOT find her. Oh, her host mom, Pilar, called me and tried to give me some message, but I just kept saying "Lo siento, pero Kaitlin está en los Estados Unidos. Ella está a su Universidad en Tennessee, cuando yo vine a España, ella me dio su mobil". Yeah I thought she was KAITI JONES'S host mom, not Caitlin Bigelow. Whoops! I decided to leave the fireworks before they began and on my way out, I get absolutely DESTROYED by this man on rollerblades. I am surprised we both survived. Literally, he was going full speed and knocked me down to the ground. I was like "HEY!" and he was very apologetic. I am just glad he was a small little Spaniard. Yeah, Sunday night was not great.

So that completes my first ever Mercé. I am still recovering from the lack of sleep and endless dancing in the streets....

Vámonos para Un excursión! Vale?

2009-09-21T12:12:00.001-07:00

Fina has being planning this little day trip for us for a LONG time. All I knew was that she needed 20 euros and that she was pretty stoked about the whole situation. I had no idea where we were going, with whom, or anything. All I knew was that an autocarre was picking us up and we need to wake up around 5am. And she was packing some bocadillitos (little sandwiches) for us.

I woke up at 5am. Had my coffee and cereal. And let for the autocarre with Fina. I was the only one under the age of 65 there. Que bueno! No really, I like older people. However, the smells on the bus where a little much… but it is all good. So next thing I know, I am in France! I was like alright, alright this is good. We stopped at the cute antique city with a big open market and did some sight-seeing and tried about a million free samples. We left there and drove along the coast through these crazy mountains. It was like… cliffs into the ocean and beautiful, but our bus driver was hauling and there were no guardrails (not that they would do much, but there wasn’t even an illusion of safety). At one point I just kind of accepted that if it came down to it, it would not be a bad way to go.

After surviving two hours of this craziness, we were at the restaurant in the middle of nowhere, but I guess in Spain. So about 75 senior citizens and I walked into this sweet little place and sat down. We had our first course. The big debate at the table was who was saying my name correctly. It was great. One would say “Nan-nah” and the other would say, “No, se llama Nah-han”. I kept just saying “No me importa” (it is not important to me). Anyways. A guy with a keyboard shows up and started playing music and some crazy dancing broke out. I thought, “ah if only I knew some Spanish dances because they are having so much fun.” Some time passed and I just sat there watching all of the fun.

Let me tell you, these senior citizens know how to get down. Spanish women only get spicier with age, of this I am certain. Next thing I know, I am being dragged onto the dance floor. I have no idea how it happened, but my feet did what they were supposed to. And I danced and danced with old men! Then Achy-Breaky heart came on and I was like YES. So we are tearing up that dance floor and I am having the time of my life. Well the keyboardist/singer man called me up to help him with the song when he realized that I knew the words and that he was absolutely slaughtering the song. So I went up and sang a duet with him! Ha ha so embarrassing, but I totally embraced it.

The ride home was really long and curvy. The woman in the row across ended up vomiting in a plastic bag. I pretended like nothing was happening because I could hardly handle it. At the end of the excursion, vomit face came up and said bye and gave me a kiss on each cheek while holding her plastic bag of vomit. Gross!

I would have to consider this excursion a success. Two thumbs way up.

Peanut Butter Lovin’ (Spain’s First Peanut Butter Party)

2009-09-17T05:16:00.000-07:00

Peanut butter is a passion of mine. It is right up there with salmon and ice cream (those three together sound really gross, but individually are heavenly). In Spain there is no such thing as peanut butter, so Holl (the best mom ever) packed me a little tub-o-PB in my suitcase. I decided that I would wait for the right moment to come before breaking into my stash. I thought either tears or something catastrophic would have to occur and then I would indulge in a little PB therapy. I got through three whole weeks without a morsel of the stuff. Well, today was the day. I had just.. ugh.. one of those days. A lot of it I cannot really explain.. but Caitlin can attest, I had my share of turmoil this morning.

Well I guess I will try to explain the situation a little. I was innocently walking to school when I needed to go to the bathroom. So I walked into a little café where I was told I needed to buy something when I realized I had not a eurocent in my possession. Thus began my hunt. I did circles and circles around block after block getting turned down my cafés, bars, and fruit stores alike. WHAT THE HECK! I was a little girl in need and almost in tears. I cannot even express the gravity of the situation. Okay, fine, it is that time of the month. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a “Dino Pan” came to my rescue (the Dunkin’ Donuts of Spain). There were other things that I just won’t go into, but fue muy, muy mal.

After that whole episode, I realized that I was MISERABLY lost. I got out my map and found that my excursion took me half an hour in the wrong direction. I began to weave my way in and out of streets and parks to get to school. I arrive late to my first class, which is a university class and I was nervous to meet all of the Spanish students. My commute took me 70 minutes instead of 30. It turned out to be fine, but still, not the picturesque morning I usually enjoy. I had three classes right in a row, the first two are university classes. Guerra civil was a nice break, but still class.

Also, I have a final tomorrow and I spent way too much time in the library. I was walking home and stressing about my test and not really paying attention when I notice that I had gone about eight blocks past my apartment building, which is absolutely absurd because I was ON MY STREET. Yo soy un tocho (I’m as dumb as a brick).

I finally got home and suddenly remembered my peanut butter. So I got out my ghetto little yellow baby spoon and got a spoonful of peanut butter. The sheer beauty of this moment is beyond words. I was taking it all in, and in my happy place, ah sweet euphoria, when all of a sudden…

… Fina opened my door and asked what is going on. And I told her I was having a little peanut butter, extremely embarrassed that she saw me during this intimate moment. She was curious and we headed into the kitchen with my prized possession. Keep in mind, this is the only peanut butter I have until February. We started to spread it on some bread, then apple slices. This was Spain’s first ever Fiesta de mantequilla de cacahuetes. Que fantástico! Fina was fully embracing peanut butter… but maybe too much. I mean I was really happy that she really liked it, but she went to town on that jar of peanut butter. I had only rationed a single spoon for today. It is a very bittersweet moment… mostly bitter… as in I am harboring bitter feelings over having to share my peanut butter. One-third of the jar gone in one day. Que triste. It just occurred to my now how lucky I am that I am not allergic to nuts.

P.S. If anyone wants to send me peanut butter…

My First Attempt at Saggy Crotch Pants

2009-09-16T05:15:00.000-07:00

Not gonna lie, it left much to be desired. First of all, I could not figure out the sizes. The numbers on the tags seemed entirely arbitrary. So I eyeballed it, grabbed a pair of purple saggy crotch pants and made my way to the dressing room. The worker there was really hovering and I wanted to be like.. “Lady, back off, I am trying to make a connection here”. I should have known it would be like this because I am a bad friend and tried them on without Caitlin. Anyways. So I put the glorious pants on and I just know that something is not right. I think I may have put them on backwards. So I turn them around, but there is still something just not right... so I turned them around again. I still really wasn’t feeling it. So I cut my losses and went home. It just wasn’t meant to be... for now.

Other happenings:
-it was my first day of class
-guerra civil was great
-spanish history was not
-I met Caitlin between her classes bearing gifts of fruit and water
-Fina and I had a really good talk

The Name of the Game is Progress

2009-09-16T02:42:00.000-07:00

I know I am always writing about walking to school, but this seriously is a big part of my life. Today I learned the magic of progress. I got to the main campus in half an hour (which originally took me closer to 50 minute). How did I do this you may ask? Well, I refused to stop moving. If there was a ¨don´t walk¨sign, I would take which ever crosswalk would let me. I live diagonal from the University of Barcelona, so instead of taking main roads, I zig-zagged through the city.

This new concept of progress and not waiting at a corner for a light to change made me think beyond just my walk to school. There are so many times that I stay stuck at one corner and think that the red light controls me. It does not have to. I can overcome these obstacles simply by having a broader view. My friend Caitlin love photography and can take these wonderful panoramic photos. By having a broader scope, you get the real context of what the whole scene is. Tangent. I, Hannah Groom, hereby proclaim to stop starring at the red lights and run like heck to make progress in every aspect of my life.

El Locutorio

2009-09-15T12:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I don't have wifi (wee-fee) at my house. And it is really unfortunate, but I am surviving by going to the Locutorio which is run by a family from India. I get one hour of wifi for one euro (roughly $1.50). It is an expense I am willing to pay though. Anyways. The locutorio is the only unsafe place I really go in Spain. Last time I was here, the worker tried to bully me into paying 3 euros when I had only been there for an hour. It was really scary.

The computers here have pictures of Indian women as their background and whenever I am skyping friends and family I notice the weird men around me looking at me or listening to my conversations. Muy mal. The other weird thing is that there are always these really poor girls here who video chat and sing in

English to Americans.

I am very suspect of all of this. I am hoping to figure out a better place to go and use some internet,

hopefully one that is cheaper and doesn't have pictures of Indian women, creepers and cheapskates. Time will tell. I will let you all know what I end up doing!

Travels in the North

2009-09-15T12:25:00.001-07:00

This week our study abroad program took a

n excursion to Northern Spain to look at architecture. It was actually really amazing. We stopped in really neat little ancient cities. Caitlin and I worked on spending as little money as possible. The Director of BCA informed us on the bus that

we would be buying our own food for five whole days when most of us were under the impression that it would be paid for. Never fear, our thriftiness and sheer brilliance shown through. We managed to get by on very little on the trip.

It was amazing to see the architecture. I was just blown away time after time by these beautiful palaces, cathedrals, and cities. It was great to see how cultures beliefs shaped the art and architecture. My favorite building was the cathedral of León. It was very lavish. My second favorite was Gaudi's palace in Astorga. Caitlin and I joked that it was our house and picked out bedrooms and dance floors, breakfast nooks, etc etc. Caitlin and I only got lost twice in the five days we were traveling. We really need to either pay more attention, or become friends with someone who can navigate. My personal favorite was the time when I was motion sick/poisoned from the bus ride and we were lost at 10pm, with a map, without any knowledge of the city we were in, and without knowing the name of our hotel. Luckily Caitlin noticed a door and led us home. She is my hero.

It was nice to be in the North. It felt like Fall which made me think of home. I wish the trees were changing or something.. that would be fun. Overall, I was very impressed by Northern Spain. The trip was fun, the buildings were gorgeous, and I learned a lot. Oh, my fellow BCAers were great too. One night we went out for traditional tapas. It was really a fun time!

Oh, also there is this thing called the Camino de Santiago. It is this sweet pilgrimage from France to "the edge of the Earth" aka the coast of Spain. Many people were trekking along with their packs and I felt a wave of envy and a hunger for adventure (or an adwenchture). I guess I have my adventure planned for now, but one day (maybe with a certain wench).

One another note entirely, I have picked out my classes! I will have three BCA (american students being taught in Spanish) classes and two University of Barcelona classes. My BCA classes are: Spanish Civil War (so excited!), Spanish Pragmatics, and Spanish History. My UB classes are: Spanish Narratives of the 19th Century (which I am equally drawn to and frightened of) and Spanish in America. Every day I get out of class at 2pm so I am pumped to have my afternoons free! Hopefully I find some Spanish friends and can fill my days with wonderful things.

Walking

2009-09-10T12:03:00.000-07:00

I walked to school today and cut it down to approximately 38 minutes at a good pace. Music has kind of been lacking in my life because my iPod is in Maine but last night when I couldn’t sleep I was listening t so music in my room. It was like I suddenly remembered that music exists and that I love it. In that very spirit I walked to school singing my little heart out because the streets did not have too many people on them and I really thought nothing of it. School was good. I had coffee with my conversation professor and got this sweet picture taken with Tony!!

After class we went to the Placa Reial with Caitlin and Allan. We decided this was a decent park to have lunch. We had adventures in Auala 9B where I rubbed my essence all over the classroom so that Caitlin would have a good semester in that classroom. I am feeling pretty good atm, which means at the moment.. in case you didn’t know (sorry I had to throw that in there..).

Oh right, this post is about walking. After those happenings I walked home and you know, I was feeling the singing on the way to school so I started right up again. Trouble was that it was pretty much rush hour on the streets of Barcelona which means there were a ton of people walking. I had not noticed that this was the case until I was stopped at a crosswalk and this girl was looking at me. Not only was like wearing a ridiculous outfit (purple headband and Nikes), but I was also singing, in public, in English, in Spain. I abruptly stopped and think I will save my song for the early morning when it is just me and streets.

Other happenings:

1. No luck finding saggy crotch pants for myself. I actually haven’t tried, I have been really tired

2. I never sleep and it is bothering me. I go to bed around 10 or 11 and cannot fall asleep. At about 2am I usually give up and listen to music or write.

3. I am leaving for León tomorrow for five days and just cannot wait!

4. This was the last day of conversation and grammar classes. Que triste!

5. In between classes Caitlin and I found a cool CD stores and a thrift store as well… which are essentials

6. There is a man at the door at this very moment who has rang the doorbell 3 times but I have no idea what to do because I don’t know him and Fina said not to let anyone in if she is not home.. uh.

7. And if you are in your room singing and the window is open everyone can hear you so maybe keep it down a little.. especially if you don’t want the man at the door to know you are home..

A Partner in Crime

2009-09-10T11:58:00.000-07:00

I am a firm believer in the friends make life just better. Of this I am certain. I laugh harder, smile bigger and just really feel like I am a lot funnier. Not going to lie.. when I first got here I was kind of bumming.. I was like where are my feisty wenches? Well, life goes on (even though I miss my wenches.. don’t get me wrong). Anyways, I am excited because I found some great people here that appreciate how insane I am and add to the fun. I mean for example.. Caitlin and I plan on taking on many adventures. We have made a list of this to do in Spain and have begun completing them.

And I had a nice relaxing lunch (not in a gutter) at the pier today. Yeah life is good.

Other interesting happenings:

1. I met a man who could not obstain from yelling.. at first we struggled.. but I later saw him in the stairwell and we talked for a little

2. I went to the Dali museum and was really happy with what I saw

3. Tony embraced my love of the gatitos.. but Ferraro did not

4. I really feel like Ferraro is beginning to enjoy our convo group

5. I was lost for about an hour with Caitlin but good company makes being los better

6. I had a tour of the older part of our campus and was amazed by the beauty and excited that UB is my school (“Somos legit”)

7. Fina was unhappy with me because not only could I not figure out how to unlock the door, but this morning I didn’t lock it correctly. Whoops.

8. Fina prepared half a chicken for me. It was rico but I couldn’t finish it all

Es Raro que un gato… pues… tenga tres ojos

2009-09-09T12:02:00.000-07:00

Tony called on me today in class to finish his sentence “Es raro que” (it is rare that). Well I totally spaced and could not think of what to say next. He said “think about the cats”, because yesterday he and I made cats the theme because I was talking about how many cats there are on campus and how I thought they were skinny and sick and said things like “gatitos bonitos, pobrecitos, enfermitos, delgaditos” which pretty much means, “pretty little kitties, poor little things, sick little things, skinny”. Yeah, turns out there is a program at school that feeds them. Different, right? Vale. Anyways, Tony was like think gatos and so I said “es raro que un gato tenga tres ojos” (it is rare that a cat has three eyes). He loved it. It was a beautiful moment that Tony and I shared. Not going to lie, I am kind of sad that tomorrow is my last grammar class with Tony

I was a smidge homesick this morning, but it passed. Dinner with Fina was really good. We can actually hold a conversation. She was impressed with how fast I was talking. I honestly was a little peppy because I had just walked home from school and was high on life (or the exhaust from cars).

Other notables:

1. I plan on walking to and from school from now on because the metro is expensive. It is about a 40 minute walk if I power walk (which I do).

2. Passing notes in class is not the best idea.. right?

3. I am so happy here

4. Fina is planning an excursion for us in two weekends I think? I gave her money and she is pumped about it. I have no idea where we are going but she was so excited I didn’t want to discourage her.

5. I have serious issues paying attention during class and I’d like to get better at it.

6. Caitlin and I have decided that people here at about ten times edgier than the average American.. so I am considering shaving a portion of my head, it seems to really work for la joventud (the young people) here.

The American Gypsies

2009-09-06T11:49:00.000-07:00

Doctor Barbosa, the director of my study abroad program has told us time and time again “do not eat in the hallways or on the ground, eat in the cafeteria or in the park. So today after classes me and some of my companeros took our bocadillas and set out to find a nice park. Keep in mind we were starving to death and a bocadilla was just what we needed to survive. Well we walked.. and walked. And found many bars and tapas, but no parks. Finally, we had arrived to our eating destination about half an hour later. After searching far and wide all over the city for the perfect spot, we selected a sketchy alley. We sat on a curb in the gutter of the ghetto and ate our bocadillas. Jenny, one of the BCA students had a banana peel and a piece of tin foil next to her on the ground when suddenly out of nowhere comes an Indian man with a trashcan on wheels who points at her trash. She looked back at him and he said, “Where are you from?” and then continued “Are you American?” and she says “I am American”. He asked her if she was a gypsy. Jenny was like uh what? And he says you are an American gypsy why didn’t you throw your trash away you American gypsy. She responded “I was going to” and he looked at her like “yeah right”. It was so weird. Lesson of the day.. when Barbosas says don’t eat in the school hallways she means don’t eat in the gutter either. These lessons that I am learning are priceless.

Other notable things of the day:

1. I got to see Americans and realized that I do in fact have so friends in the country

2. Classes were really good, including the Art History class that began today

3. Caitlin and I began collecting data for our special fashionista blog which meant we went around taking pictures of random people on the street…

4. I successfully unlocked the apartment door for the first time ever and I think I correctly locked it this morning as well

5. I realized that this is my home for the next 5 months and I am very happy about it

Saturday Lasts Forever

2009-09-05T15:57:00.004-07:00

So this is the first time in forever that I haven’t spoken English in over a day. It is very strange. My host mom goes around telling people that I don’t speak Spanish. She tells me it is easier this way. I think she is afraid that her friends will just think I am stupid if they expect too much. I walked around Barcelona honestly hoping to bump into another BCA student. If you understood the odds of that happening you would get how desperate I had become. I haven’t had internet or phone for a long long time. I got a Vodaphone SIM card today which means life is about to get better. Once I got it I was like “YES! I can go out tonight” and then I realized that I don’t have anyone’s phone number! Que triste! So Fina took me to this fiesta a fuera with carnival rides and stuff. Now we are at her son’s restaurant where I randomly ended up taking care of the bartender’s two year old. It was good except for the fact that he didn’t listen to me and would pretend like he didn’t understand what I was saying. No bueno. And then three hours later I found out that he knows English really well and was just being a pest. Whatever.

Saturday- “Porque te levantas tan temprano” y “tú eres un poco gordita” (“Why do you get up so early” and “you are a little bit fat”)

2009-09-05T15:57:00.003-07:00

Fina, my host mom is hilarious. That is all there is to it. First of all, when I was moving in she was like “I never shut my door, I mean you can if you want but really what have we got to hide, you can shut your door but I think it is weird but do what you want” and I was like oh okay. So I woke up hella early today and showered and got changed. I shut the bathroom door because the shower is essentially a glass box and I just thought it best. Anyways. Life continued to happen. I got changed and did a little reading in my room with the door shut. She came into my room and asked “are you crying” and I said no. And then she was like “well then why is the door shut” and I said that I was just reading and didn’t want to wake her or anything. She was like “why are you up so early? You hate it here don’t you?” and I had to reassure her that I wake up early every morning and that it is impossible for me to sleep in. She was like “okay, but keep your door open”. Vale (okay).

Every meal we have all we do is talk about obesity and food. It is really a killjoy. How can you truly enjoy eating if you are talking about how fat the world is? Anyways… today over breakfast when I had one piece of bread and the strongest cup of coffee known to mankind she said “Tu eres un poco gordita” which essentially means, “you are a little chubby”. I just said, “Yo sé” (I know) and continued eating my food. The funny thing was that I was thinking, I might die today from lack of food. I was explaining to her that at home I have oatmeal with fruit and milk or something similar. She thought I was insane. This is clearly the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Honestly.. I love her. She is so great!

Friday- Last day at Hotel Luna, Home sweet home, and some saggy crotch pants

2009-09-05T15:57:00.001-07:00

So I woke up and decided that I would make conversation class good today. I went downstairs, had my coffee and break and an apple and went to class. First the teacher asked where Rory was and I said “maletas” which means suitcases. And the teacher asked is he in a suitcase. And I said “quizás” which means perhaps and then continued to say it would not surprise me (if you knew this Rory kid, you would get what I mean). So Rory shows up and I said “he escaped.. he must be Houdini”. Class was much better. I also snorted which I think disgusted the teacher.

Tony was right on.. as usual. Turns out after the pre-semester course I will have Tony as my teacher for “Spanish in America” which looks at the history of the changes that the language undertook. I am excited to stare at that glorious belly for a whole semester. I will take a picture of it soon so everyone can enjoy. I seriously love Tony.

Caitlin (one of the study abroad students) and I are absolutely obsessed with these saggy crotch pants. I really want a purple pair. They are ridiculous. So we have decided that we are going to start a blog about them. We want to study the various types, style, uses, and benefits to the saggy crotch pants. We plan on taking pictures of all the different ones we see around, interviewing those who wear them, and yes, buying a pair of our own so we can experience what it is to wear the saggy crotched pants. Okay so some of them sag so low the crotch is at ankle level. They are made out of linen, stretchy material, and some even JEANS. It is very awesome. Once we get more research and are able to start the blog I will post the URL here so you can all learn about this amazing piece of clothing that I am sure will change my life forever.

Oh I am not in Barcelona. I live with this sweet older woman name Rufina Izquierdo but she prefers to be called Fina. Her apartment is cute. It is small, but everything in Europe is small. It is comfortable and quiet. I think it will be a great change of pace. So her Spanish is really hard to understand and I am so tired that I keep making her repeat herself. We had a nice dinner together and she left for una obra (a play) so I am on our balcony looking at my new city!

Thursday- Un descansito (a little break)

2009-09-05T15:56:00.001-07:00

So I am such a grandma (como una abuela) and I need my sleep. After la comida I decided to nap. I went to my room, turned on a little Iron and Wine and slept… for four hours. Que fantástico! I got my assignment for my family. It is a widow who is retired and lives in a cute little neighborhood kind of far from campus. She is apparently an amazing cook.

Oh right.. classes are good.. conversation class is painful but Tony still rocks my world. Sorry for my inability to write well, I seriously feel like I am losing my English slowly but surely.

Wednesday- Solomente tres más horas…

2009-09-05T15:55:00.001-07:00

So in Spain they do not believe in snacking. It is a very sad reality I have come to face. Around 9am we have breakfast which has been chocolate covered croissants and sweet bread (I usually have a piece of toast and an apple because everything else is way too sweet.. and drink two cups of the strongest coffee in the world), and then at 2pm we have la comida, which consist of a sandwich, and FINALLY at 9pm we have la cena which is a fabulous three course meal first with bread and veggies, then a main course of meat and rice, veggies, or potatoes and finally, tons of fresh fruit for desert. As you can imagine, around 6pm hunger strikes and it is hard not to eat anything in sight. I packed a jar of “mantequilla de cacahuetes” (peanutbutter) because I love it dearly and they don’t sell it around here. Anyways I have been tempted to dip into that,a couple of times but I have decided that I cannot have it until I am so homesick or stressed that I am in tears… which I am sure will come at some point this trip. Anyways… the big joke around here is “only three more hours till cena”. Literally everyone gets moody, faint, and sleepy. I don’t understand how the Spanish can handle never eating. My blood sugar dips to dangerously low places in between meals.

Tuesday- My first time in the Mediterranean.. que torpe (how clumsy/awkward)

2009-09-05T15:54:00.003-07:00

So my group is spending the next five days at a hotel and it is a bit of a tight fit but there is a huge patio and a pool and more importantly, la playa (the beach). Last night we took a test moments after arriving in the country. No bueno (no good). Oh did I mention I am rooming with the Diva? Actually, she is not a diva. She just had a crappy send off including a stupid boy dumping her on the way to the airport. Anyways.. looks like we will be pretty solid friends here. She is fun. Straight out of Texas.

Today we began language classes, which consist of one conversation class, one grammar class, and then an orientation class about study abroad stuff. My conversation class left much to be desired. Por ejemplo (for example) today Marie (aka Diva) said “la playa” and the teacher kept saying QUE? She was like “if there is one thing I know how to say… it is la playa”. It was just kind of a painful and awkward class because the teacher has a really difficult accent and is kind of cold.

My teacher for grammar is Tony and he is the coolest. He has great round glasses that have three rhinestones on the sides. His belly tests the restraints of his shirt and I cannot help but wonder when those buttons will just quit. Honestly, this man is the coolest. He is the best teacher I have had in Spanish. He is so great!

I saved the best for last… after la comida (lunch) some of us headed to the beach to relax. I got there shortly after most of the others had gone in the water. In pure excitement I ripped off my clothes and ran into the water. I had no idea that there is a drop off and I tripped and went into the water but skillfully made it appear like a dive. I joined my fellow classmates and thought, “yeah, good thing I played it cool… they have no idea”. At the end of the day I asked this guy Tom how his day was. He responded, “Pretty good, your face plant was definitely the highlight”. So I was a little embarrassed and said that I thought I had tricked them into thinking it was a dive and he said, “the best part was the Mike (another kid on the trip) had just said ‘look here comes Baywatch’ because you were running and the wind was blowing and immediately after he said that you ate playa”. Well at least everyone knows how cool I am.

Monday- In Paris, but hardly

2009-09-05T15:54:00.001-07:00

We flew to Paris. We had a hella long layover in Paris. The terminal was like a green house. No it was a greenhouse. A greenhouse with no wireless, not much food and not much space considering the amount of people in it. Seven hours later, I realized how sad it is to be a caged bird. I don’t know why the caged bird sings. Anyways. I wish I could have seen the city a little. Perhaps I will venture that way some time this semester.

Sunday- Pollo o Pescado (Chicken or Fish)

2009-09-05T15:53:00.000-07:00

My flight from Dulles to France was amazing. Well as amazing as seven consecutive hours of sleep only interrupted for dinner and breakfast. I took Tylenol PM. Turns out I was sitting next to this chica Marie from my group, who I had labeled the Diva. Diva and I said not a word the whole flight GREAT. Anyways. I woke up to a man saying “Chicken or Fish” and I was like.. “uhh chicken”. I absolutely love salmon, but am kind of leery of most other seafood. I mean, I will eat it, but I don’t request it. For those of you who know me well, you know my relationship with salmon. I obsess over it. I could eat it at any moment. Turns out the fish was salmon and I was quite sad. Anyways. Back to bed I went after some interesting version of chicken and gravy. The flight was pretty uneventful otherwise.

First Blog

2009-08-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

Hey friends and family (...and stalkers),

So I figured I would make a blog to keep loved ones updated about my semester in Spain. I leave in approximately seven days for Barcelona until late January. And I have nothing cool to report yet, because I am just packing and sweating.. since when is it 90 degrees in Maine for a week straight?

Anyways... I guess I will talk about Barcelona for a little bit? Barcelona is a tricksy little city (not actually little, but little usually follows tricksy, but I digress). Barcelonians are famous for loving their cultural identity. Back in the day Franco got all upset because Barcelona was extremely loyal to their Catalan roots and actually considered the capital of Catalonia (a region in Europe including parts of Spain and France where they speak Catalan). Anyways. Franco hated Barcelona because they were the last of the regions in Spain to resist his efforts to unite Spain by cultural cleansing (i.e. banning all use of Catalan, censorship of literature, press, etc). Franco's reign lasted 1947-1975 and was described by a famous Catalan writer as "the color of a dog running away" to mean that it as unclear what was there. There was definitely something there, but it was undefined. Since then, Catalans have regained much of their culture. The University of Barcelona, where I will be studying, was the first school after Franco to teach in Catalan, but taught it as a foreign language would be taught. So yep, that is what I know.

I don't have any cool pictures... but I google image search Sagrada Familia to find this picture of Sagrada Familia, an unfinished church which was designed by Gaudi.

Adios!