Well I am Back! (we are backkkk, we are getting Doug Backkkkk...any Hangover fans in the bunch?)
Whew, so a lot has happened in my little Spanish life since I last left you. March 8th is apparently an "international" holiday to celebrate working women everywhere. Haven't heard of it? Yeah, me neither, until I went to the elementary school to volunteer and they had assemblies all day devoted to it. They were surprised I had never heard of it, and I kept getting it confused with Mother's Day, but no, it is indeed different. How different, you may ask? Let's just give you a sneak-peek into what the assembly I attended looked like.
Ahem--- so. The teachers stood at the front of the gym and wrote on the board things their moms all do..nice, right? Yes. Until this came up..."The mom always cleans the house and does the cooking...with a smile on her face." Or how about this one... "The mom is supposed to stay home with the children and wash all of their clothes." As a pretty independent woman (thank you, Destiny's Child, for getting that song stuck in my head now), my mouth dropped open that it's 2010 and they're "celebrating" the Day of the Working Woman and basically it was an assembly to reinforce negative stereotypes.
To distract myself during the assembly from the verbal crap being thrown at me, and the children who were climbing all over me (Rubia! Rubia!), I glanced around the gym. To encourage the kids to learn English, the whole school is plastered with English phrases...in classrooms, labeling things, and also in the gym. I found normal English phrases (though tough for 4th graders I think) such as "flexibility", "balance" and "strength". Right next to them, I also spotted "Help" and "Security". What they are teaching these kids during their gym hour, I have no idea....
That same day when I was outside with the first graders, one little girl's tooth fell out when they were playing what I can only assume is the Spanish version of "Steal the Bacon". They just wrapped it up in little fluffs of Kleenex and put it in her pocket, no big deal. Maybe the Tooth Fairy doesn't exist here.. Either way, it reminded me of my dear friend Jen, who tragically had her front tooth knocked out of her face after she tumbled off a bus. Oh, how I miss my friends in the 'paign. (Champaign)
All in all, springtime has slowly made its way to the South of Spain. According to weather.com Granada is supposed to have 300 sunny days out of the year. Well, I don't know who fact-checks that site, but it's rained probably 45 of the 70 days I have been here. BUT, I can virtually guarantee it will not rain if I do one thing: remember to bring my Moses' Stick of an umbrella with me when I leave. Seriously, the thing is colossal. And everytime I do remember to bring the damn thing to school, it magically gets sunny. And when it's sunny, I am pleasantly reminded just how beautiful Granada is. Seriously, they are going to have to deport me to get me outta here. My visa is good for 90 more days after I am "supposed" to leave, but who actually checks things like that? I think the airport people are so concerned about my 1.8 ounces of liquid that might be an explosive that they don't really notice if you're allowed to be in that country or not. But maybe not. Maybe that was what the gypsies did...and now ....they're gypsies. I'll sleep on it.
Actually, in my culture of Spain class, we had an entire section devoted to gitanos, or gypsies. They aren't just the crazy googley-eyes women who chase you with rosemary...they are actually an entire race of people! Who. Knew. see Mom & Dad? I am learning things over here.
In other news, last week I successfully tore into my ankle because I twisted it on a rock and fell. Clearly, you can't outrun your lack of grace, Kel, it will follow you across oceans. When I got home, Lina dipped it into a hot tub of salt water and rubbed it...I'm not complaining about the free ankle massage, but I think some ice would have fixed it just fine. too bad we don't have ice in the house...just frozen ham and fish heads. I'll pass on slappin' that on my ankle, thank you.
Last weekend, Kaye, Katherine, MaryPat and I ventured north to Barcelona, which always reminds me of that song "My Sharona", but that's neither here nor there. We saw a Picasso Museum, and a lot of Antoni Gaudi (famous Spanish architect/sculptor)'s houses and parks, and rode the gondola around. For those of you who don't know, a gondola is not only a skinny boat you use in lieu of taxis in Venice, it is also a little cage that carries groups of people through the air. (I was ignorant of this fact, previously. I also was under the impression Barcelonians rode the gondola to get around town. False. Only tourists actually take the gondola.)
At the end of our day of touring, we came back to our 10 by 13 foot room (I didn't actually measure, I am estimating, duh) and I looked forward to nothing more than a hot, hot shower. Well, leave it to me to manage to rip the attachable shower head clear off the hose. So all I was left with was scalding-hot water squirting out of the skinny hose and flying in all directions. Literally, it was the big-kid version of a CrAzY DaIsY sprinkler, and the other girls must have thought I found a corpse in the shower I was screaming and laughing so much. I guess I wouldn't laugh at a corpse.. I don't know what else you'd both scream and laugh at though, if it wasn't this giant fireman's hose on crack that somebody couldn't hold on to..
And now, Justine, Katherine, me and some of our friends studying in Sevilla are off for Semana Santa (Holy Week) to go travel. We'll be in Amsterdam, Prague, and Krakow, which is in Poland. I find it very hard to say the word "Krakow" with the right inflections...I always end up saying it like my dad...("Could be a crackhead!") If you don't get it, Youtube "Leprechaun in Mobile, Alabama". Worth it, I promise.
Alright, amigos y amigas, that's all for now. We'll be good and safe on our travels, and don't worry Dad, I won't try and bring "any plants on the plane" (why would I do that anyways??) except for my little avocado plant I am growing here in Spain...we'll see if they let me into the States with that lil' guy.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
I've seen London, I've seen France...
Don't fret, dear friends and fam, I am alive! After 12 days of traveling, I am back home (home is relative, and for me, it now means sleeping in a bed that doesn't have a person under it...wait, that sounds creepy, but what I mean is, sleeping in bunk beds, not like there are scary people hiding under our hostal beds...hopefully).
Where to begin? Let's start the week before we left for Paris. My package from my parents finally arrived! I was so excited when it arrived at school I almost cried! The excitement diminished when I realized it weighed 20 something pounds and I had to carry it, in the rain, on my 25 minute walk home. Though my biceps were ready to fall off by the end of the walk, I was ecstatic to find trailmix, granola bars, and Easy Mac inside! The fact that we don't have a microwave here means making that Easy Mac won't be quite so easy, but that's okay. No pasa nada.
I also started my volunteer project for my culture of Spain class. Basically, I go to this elementary school and help teach the kids English. Easy enough, right? Except on the very first day, Kaye and I got lost (this is becoming a recurring theme I think) and ended up at a high school. It was an easy mistake to make, really because both schools have the same street name, though the two streets are very far apart. So I show up at a High School, terrified I have to teach these 25-year-olds English. (In Spain, they go to high school up until age 29 if they want..can you say supa senyah?) We eventually made it to the right school, though, and pretty much all of my 2nd graders knew about the States was "Nueva York!!" and they'd leap out of their seats and shot their bite-sized fists into the air. I'm assuming they were pretending to be Lady Liberty, but what do I really know. One of my kids is the spitting image of young Spock, and if it wasn't creepy, I'd try and sneak a picture of him. So you'll just have to make due with the mental image.
That week we went out to this little bar called "Feeling" and it was so much fun! We tried making friends with some of the locals, and had a little "culture swap". For example, we opened their eyes to what is Lady Gaga, and I taught a chico named Jesus how to say a key American phrase: "Get 'em B". Lucky Kaye left with Jesus' number in her telefono (Insert phrase "Get 'em Kaye" here).
I don't think there's ever been a year where I have missed so much of the Olympics. Honestly, there is literally zero coverage of the Olympics here, I forget they are even happening (or happened? Are they over yet? see, I have no idea, it's like I'm under a giant Spanish blanket with absolutely no news). Even with the Olympics on, there's still a solid 15 minutes of the news devoted solely to futbol...which...despite myself, I am starting to like! That might have something to do with a "Cristiano" or perhaps a "Ronaldo", but maybe not. Also, on the news, they tend to refer to Americans as "norteamericanos", which means North Americans. So, what? Do Canada and Mexico just get dropped outta the race then? Pobrecita Canada..always the second-best neighbor to the north. Except apparently they beat us in hockey or something, which I found out from a Canadian in London. Had to go all the way to England to find out about los olimpios...sheesh!
Oh dearie, so the trip began by trying to cram 12 days worth of clean clothes and underwear into a Jansport backpack. No easy feat, let me tell you, but it can be done. Also helps when you have a marshmallow of a coat to hide things under. Did I get some weird looks as I went through security? Sure. Was I able to bring my towel back 'cause it wouldn't fit in the backpack? You bet. Win.
We left Granada and took a midnight bus to Madrid to make our 7 a.m. flight to Pareeee (Paris). To help the 5-hour bus ride pass, Justine and I watched The Hangover, maybe forgetting it was the middle of the night and our distinctive American laughs could be heard on the whole bus. In our defense, we did sing a nice little lullaby to them....what do tigers dream of? When they take a little tiger snooze...
Paris was wonderful! We met up with our friend Arianna (and future roommate of Johnstowne 317) who is studying in Nottingham, England to celebrate her 21st. We were lucky enough to be able to stay with Kaye's friend Eva, which was great because her apartment was in the heart of Paris and it was so much nicer (and free-er) than a hostel. We saw a TON in Paris, and I managed to take nearly 400 pictures in Paris alone, which is surprising considering I forgot my camera at home most of the days. I swear I have the memory of a miniature mountain goat sometimes. We went to the Louvre, which is a ridiculously large museum. Someone told me if you look at every piece of art for only 10 seconds, it would take you 5 weeks straight to see everything inside. Okay, that might be inaccurate because I actually overheard someone saying that at the Louvre, but you get the idea: there's a lot to see. We saw the Real Mona Lisa, the statue of the Lady without any arms, and Napolean's apartment! Even though I may not know a lot about art, (I don't know if you could tell based off of my insightful descriptions) but it was still really interesting. Funny how when you're little you hate going to places like that, and now we opt to go on our own. It helps that most of this stuff was free with our student visas. A nice perk, thank you France! We also got to see the famous Notre Dame. I squinted long and hard to find a lil Quasimoto hangin' out in the rafters, but was ultimately disappointed.
Can't you tell we love museums? We don't look tired at all....
After 4 days in Paris, we took an early flight to the land of my ancestors..Ireland. Except you don't sound as authentically Irish when traveling with a "MaryPat Flanagan" and a "Katherine Foley". Dublin was awesome, definitely my favorite city of our first spring break. It wasn't nearly as hilly or green as I had imagined, but I blame movies for distorting my image of what Ireland is. We only had a short stay in Dublin in between Paris and London, but it was so nice to chill out and relax between the two cities. Everybody in Dublin is soo friendly! Especially coming out of France..."you're in France and you mean to tell me you don't speak French?" No, Lady I am studying Spanish, calm yourself Iago!
So friendly, in fact an Irish man at one of the shops asked Kaye about her origins, and he started telling us how the Foley family who used to live on the other side of the hill were sheep-stealers. I almost believed him, until he also said Justine's family also lived over the hill, and also were sheep-stealers. Justine is Asian. I am fairly certain none of Justine's ancestors were ever in Ireland.
We drank a lot of good beer in Dublin, and of course had to try the Guinness, which is mas o menos alcoholic chocolate milk! I know what's going in MY baby bottles... jooooke joke joke. Drinking beer over here has given me an all-new appreciation for college towns. After paying 6 Euro a pint, I think going out downtown might even be cheaper. But you're only in Ireland once, right? (Or cross your fingers, twice when we go back in May).
On to London! In London, we stayed at this really nice hostel called Astor Kenzington. It's cool 'cause everybody at the hostel has to be between the ages of 18 and 35. Also, all the hostels we stayed at had big common kitchens, so we were able to save money and cook for ourselves a few nights. It dawned on me that I would have to be doing just that, cooking..., all by myself next year in the apartment. I'll be starting the Kelly Gustafson diet, meaning Lucky Charms and and Kinder Buenos unless Lina gives me a few cooking lessons before I peace out. For those of you so tragically unlucky that you don't know what a Kinder Bueno is, it's a cross between a Kit Kat and...heaven in your mouth.
London was pricey; so much so, that we came back to Spain saying "Thank God for the Euro!" The Underground, or "Tube", as they call it, is incredibly efficient but expensive to take. It's the best way to get anywhere, and is pretty safe too. We saw a lot in London, too: Buckingham Palace, Leicester Square, Big Ben, Tower of London, Kenzington Palace, and of course, the changing of the guard. Even after seeing the changing of the guard, I still don't really see what the big deal is. When someone comes in to replace me after my shift at work, it's really not that big of a deal, and certainly doesn't warrant a parade, but maybe you have to be British to understand it. The epitome of irony was in the middle of the changing of the guard when the band played "New York, New York"....Really, England? That's not even in your country!
Saturday night, the girls and I went on a pub crawl, which ended up being super fun. Being a part of the crawl let us get out of cover, get free "drinks" in each bar (I put these in quotes because I am pretty certain they were cough syrup and/or juicy juice), and skip lines. It was worth it because we got to see 5 different kinds of bars, and they were all pretty fun! Cheers!(because everyone in London and Dublin says Cheers after everything. You sneezed? Cheers. You had a baby? Cheers. You sister was bit by a pregnant rhino? Cheers.)
Justine & I got tickets to see "Wicked"; she had never seen it and I was dying to see it a second time. We had such great seats--it was the perfect ending to our London leg of the trip. We also went to Kenzington Palace for high tea that afternoon, which, to clear up any confusion, is not tea with weed in it, it is afternoon tea and a longstanding English tradition (Eric). That was really fun, I ate my first scone ever and attempted to eat like a civilized person. Lina, my senora, makes fun of me because I really don't know how to cut my meat or hold a fork for that matter, so I especially liked the finger sandwiches we got to eat. No cutlery required!
At the airport bright and early Tuesday morning, our good luck had to come to an end. The airport security....confiscated....my peanut butter. I wanted to cry. Actually, my first reaction was to try and negotiate with the guy. I unscrewed the lid of my peanut butter and frantically shook its contents, trying to prove it's in fact not a liquid! Don't you understand security man? They don't HAVE peanut butter in Spain! No luck. They took my 280g of PB and didn't even care. A moment of silence for the lost PB...
When I finally finally finally got back to Granada after 15 hours of traveling home from London (could have gone back to Chicago and halfway back to Spain in that time...), I found hot soup and a clean Lambchop waiting for me! Lambchop is my blanket I insisted on bringing with because they don't have central heating here. Anyways, Lina goes "I went ahead and washed your blanket. It was filthy!" Needless to say I was embarrassed. Also, I am pretty sure her lavadora is now choc full of dog hair from Lucy Loo and Abbey. Whoops. When that thing starts making those Chewbacca noises again, and starts spittin' out hairballs, then I'll worry. But for now, no pasa nada. Te vayas bien!
Where to begin? Let's start the week before we left for Paris. My package from my parents finally arrived! I was so excited when it arrived at school I almost cried! The excitement diminished when I realized it weighed 20 something pounds and I had to carry it, in the rain, on my 25 minute walk home. Though my biceps were ready to fall off by the end of the walk, I was ecstatic to find trailmix, granola bars, and Easy Mac inside! The fact that we don't have a microwave here means making that Easy Mac won't be quite so easy, but that's okay. No pasa nada.
I also started my volunteer project for my culture of Spain class. Basically, I go to this elementary school and help teach the kids English. Easy enough, right? Except on the very first day, Kaye and I got lost (this is becoming a recurring theme I think) and ended up at a high school. It was an easy mistake to make, really because both schools have the same street name, though the two streets are very far apart. So I show up at a High School, terrified I have to teach these 25-year-olds English. (In Spain, they go to high school up until age 29 if they want..can you say supa senyah?) We eventually made it to the right school, though, and pretty much all of my 2nd graders knew about the States was "Nueva York!!" and they'd leap out of their seats and shot their bite-sized fists into the air. I'm assuming they were pretending to be Lady Liberty, but what do I really know. One of my kids is the spitting image of young Spock, and if it wasn't creepy, I'd try and sneak a picture of him. So you'll just have to make due with the mental image.
That week we went out to this little bar called "Feeling" and it was so much fun! We tried making friends with some of the locals, and had a little "culture swap". For example, we opened their eyes to what is Lady Gaga, and I taught a chico named Jesus how to say a key American phrase: "Get 'em B". Lucky Kaye left with Jesus' number in her telefono (Insert phrase "Get 'em Kaye" here).
I don't think there's ever been a year where I have missed so much of the Olympics. Honestly, there is literally zero coverage of the Olympics here, I forget they are even happening (or happened? Are they over yet? see, I have no idea, it's like I'm under a giant Spanish blanket with absolutely no news). Even with the Olympics on, there's still a solid 15 minutes of the news devoted solely to futbol...which...despite myself, I am starting to like! That might have something to do with a "Cristiano" or perhaps a "Ronaldo", but maybe not. Also, on the news, they tend to refer to Americans as "norteamericanos", which means North Americans. So, what? Do Canada and Mexico just get dropped outta the race then? Pobrecita Canada..always the second-best neighbor to the north. Except apparently they beat us in hockey or something, which I found out from a Canadian in London. Had to go all the way to England to find out about los olimpios...sheesh!
Oh dearie, so the trip began by trying to cram 12 days worth of clean clothes and underwear into a Jansport backpack. No easy feat, let me tell you, but it can be done. Also helps when you have a marshmallow of a coat to hide things under. Did I get some weird looks as I went through security? Sure. Was I able to bring my towel back 'cause it wouldn't fit in the backpack? You bet. Win.
We left Granada and took a midnight bus to Madrid to make our 7 a.m. flight to Pareeee (Paris). To help the 5-hour bus ride pass, Justine and I watched The Hangover, maybe forgetting it was the middle of the night and our distinctive American laughs could be heard on the whole bus. In our defense, we did sing a nice little lullaby to them....what do tigers dream of? When they take a little tiger snooze...
Paris was wonderful! We met up with our friend Arianna (and future roommate of Johnstowne 317) who is studying in Nottingham, England to celebrate her 21st. We were lucky enough to be able to stay with Kaye's friend Eva, which was great because her apartment was in the heart of Paris and it was so much nicer (and free-er) than a hostel. We saw a TON in Paris, and I managed to take nearly 400 pictures in Paris alone, which is surprising considering I forgot my camera at home most of the days. I swear I have the memory of a miniature mountain goat sometimes. We went to the Louvre, which is a ridiculously large museum. Someone told me if you look at every piece of art for only 10 seconds, it would take you 5 weeks straight to see everything inside. Okay, that might be inaccurate because I actually overheard someone saying that at the Louvre, but you get the idea: there's a lot to see. We saw the Real Mona Lisa, the statue of the Lady without any arms, and Napolean's apartment! Even though I may not know a lot about art, (I don't know if you could tell based off of my insightful descriptions) but it was still really interesting. Funny how when you're little you hate going to places like that, and now we opt to go on our own. It helps that most of this stuff was free with our student visas. A nice perk, thank you France! We also got to see the famous Notre Dame. I squinted long and hard to find a lil Quasimoto hangin' out in the rafters, but was ultimately disappointed.
Can't you tell we love museums? We don't look tired at all....After 4 days in Paris, we took an early flight to the land of my ancestors..Ireland. Except you don't sound as authentically Irish when traveling with a "MaryPat Flanagan" and a "Katherine Foley". Dublin was awesome, definitely my favorite city of our first spring break. It wasn't nearly as hilly or green as I had imagined, but I blame movies for distorting my image of what Ireland is. We only had a short stay in Dublin in between Paris and London, but it was so nice to chill out and relax between the two cities. Everybody in Dublin is soo friendly! Especially coming out of France..."you're in France and you mean to tell me you don't speak French?" No, Lady I am studying Spanish, calm yourself Iago!
So friendly, in fact an Irish man at one of the shops asked Kaye about her origins, and he started telling us how the Foley family who used to live on the other side of the hill were sheep-stealers. I almost believed him, until he also said Justine's family also lived over the hill, and also were sheep-stealers. Justine is Asian. I am fairly certain none of Justine's ancestors were ever in Ireland.
We drank a lot of good beer in Dublin, and of course had to try the Guinness, which is mas o menos alcoholic chocolate milk! I know what's going in MY baby bottles... jooooke joke joke. Drinking beer over here has given me an all-new appreciation for college towns. After paying 6 Euro a pint, I think going out downtown might even be cheaper. But you're only in Ireland once, right? (Or cross your fingers, twice when we go back in May).
On to London! In London, we stayed at this really nice hostel called Astor Kenzington. It's cool 'cause everybody at the hostel has to be between the ages of 18 and 35. Also, all the hostels we stayed at had big common kitchens, so we were able to save money and cook for ourselves a few nights. It dawned on me that I would have to be doing just that, cooking..., all by myself next year in the apartment. I'll be starting the Kelly Gustafson diet, meaning Lucky Charms and and Kinder Buenos unless Lina gives me a few cooking lessons before I peace out. For those of you so tragically unlucky that you don't know what a Kinder Bueno is, it's a cross between a Kit Kat and...heaven in your mouth.
London was pricey; so much so, that we came back to Spain saying "Thank God for the Euro!" The Underground, or "Tube", as they call it, is incredibly efficient but expensive to take. It's the best way to get anywhere, and is pretty safe too. We saw a lot in London, too: Buckingham Palace, Leicester Square, Big Ben, Tower of London, Kenzington Palace, and of course, the changing of the guard. Even after seeing the changing of the guard, I still don't really see what the big deal is. When someone comes in to replace me after my shift at work, it's really not that big of a deal, and certainly doesn't warrant a parade, but maybe you have to be British to understand it. The epitome of irony was in the middle of the changing of the guard when the band played "New York, New York"....Really, England? That's not even in your country!
Saturday night, the girls and I went on a pub crawl, which ended up being super fun. Being a part of the crawl let us get out of cover, get free "drinks" in each bar (I put these in quotes because I am pretty certain they were cough syrup and/or juicy juice), and skip lines. It was worth it because we got to see 5 different kinds of bars, and they were all pretty fun! Cheers!(because everyone in London and Dublin says Cheers after everything. You sneezed? Cheers. You had a baby? Cheers. You sister was bit by a pregnant rhino? Cheers.)
Justine & I got tickets to see "Wicked"; she had never seen it and I was dying to see it a second time. We had such great seats--it was the perfect ending to our London leg of the trip. We also went to Kenzington Palace for high tea that afternoon, which, to clear up any confusion, is not tea with weed in it, it is afternoon tea and a longstanding English tradition (Eric). That was really fun, I ate my first scone ever and attempted to eat like a civilized person. Lina, my senora, makes fun of me because I really don't know how to cut my meat or hold a fork for that matter, so I especially liked the finger sandwiches we got to eat. No cutlery required!
At the airport bright and early Tuesday morning, our good luck had to come to an end. The airport security....confiscated....my peanut butter. I wanted to cry. Actually, my first reaction was to try and negotiate with the guy. I unscrewed the lid of my peanut butter and frantically shook its contents, trying to prove it's in fact not a liquid! Don't you understand security man? They don't HAVE peanut butter in Spain! No luck. They took my 280g of PB and didn't even care. A moment of silence for the lost PB...
When I finally finally finally got back to Granada after 15 hours of traveling home from London (could have gone back to Chicago and halfway back to Spain in that time...), I found hot soup and a clean Lambchop waiting for me! Lambchop is my blanket I insisted on bringing with because they don't have central heating here. Anyways, Lina goes "I went ahead and washed your blanket. It was filthy!" Needless to say I was embarrassed. Also, I am pretty sure her lavadora is now choc full of dog hair from Lucy Loo and Abbey. Whoops. When that thing starts making those Chewbacca noises again, and starts spittin' out hairballs, then I'll worry. But for now, no pasa nada. Te vayas bien!
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