So, last night we went out again. But it was just me, Holly, Analise, and Sylvia. We went back to the Ovella Negra to see if we could find Rubens because his number didn't save in my phone...he wasn't there. He had offered to take us to a Brazilian party and get us in for free, so we might try again tonight. So we met up and started walking down Las Ramblas which our group leaders warned us not to do alone (you really shouldn't do anything alone at night here except maybe a taxi because we stick out like you would not believe). We were together, so we weren't in too much danger, except for the lurking creepy men who like to tell you how beautiful you are. We had finally reached the end and were headed home when this guy came up to me wanting to kiss me. I told him not to touch me and he was oh, come on, its just a kiss, it will be the best kiss of you life. I told him no and push him away and when he came at me again, my dear friend Analise pushed him and said 'Fuck you! Puta!' (puta = bitch) and he walked away with his tail between his legs. There was a group of guys on another bench who thought it was hilarious as well. We decided we're only going to Las Ramblas on Thursdays when its mostly college students and not so many nasty, creepy guys. I mean, I think its great that I'm so pretty we literally have to fight them off, but I'd prefer to not have that happen again.
So, some cultural differences. Personal space here does not exist. If you want personal space you get it in the bathrooms, which are tiny. Obviously the food is different, but I am not making stuff up when I say I've had ham with almost every meal. Except when I eat cookies for breakfast. They also eat a lot more fruit, which gets things moving if you know what I mean. They walk everywhere which is cool because we get to see a lot of stuff that we would miss if we didn't. And nothing is commercialized. There are no supermarkets like Kroger. You have to go to different stores to get your meat, bread, and everything else. We are going today to get bottled water (the tap is really hard) because all the walking and climbing stairs has made us dehydrated. I did eat Burger King last night (don't judge...I really wanted beef) and it wasn't terrible. I actually liked it better than BK in the states. All the food is really high quality though. So, from going out, we have learned about how it is much more acceptable here for men to cat call. Much, much more acceptable, like almost every icky guy we pass. The more civil ones don't, though. And, when you walk through the plazas and down the streets at night, people stand around trying to sell beers from six packs. There isn't a huge police presence here, but there doesn't seem to need one. And there are people everywhere until all hours of the night. Everyone takes public transportation because gas is really expensive (like $4/liter) and there isn't parking. There are a lot of vespas and motorcycles, and they drive in between the lanes, which is frightening. Things like music and movies that are American are a little behind, and we have yet to hear rap music. Oh, and people stare at us. I'm not sure if its because we are so obviously Americans. Jordi warned us that this would happen but I am shocked how much it happens, usually I just stare back. We're having a great time, and its a huge adventure.
We decided against Tarragona because we haven't slept much and were grumpy (and it was like 20€). So we slept until 2P today, which was wonderful. Now, we're going shopping and probably out to another part of the city tonight. The señora is supposed to set up the internet today but she accidently dyed her hair like bright red and might need to take part of the day to fix it. She's really nice and thinks we're great even though we stay out until like 4A and make noise when we come back. I hope she's going our laundry because her washer looks like a cheese grater that I have no idea how to use. And she hangs everything dry on a line that runs from her balcony across the side of the building outside. So, Barcelona is going to see my choonies. But drying laundry outside is like the standard, so I'm not too worried about it. I'm off to shop now so we can go to the beach tomorrow!
¡Luego!
5.17.2008
5.16.2008
I Feel like Salt
So, after last nights experience in the Bar and going to sleep at 5A, I woke up at 7A a wee in the wocus. I opted out of a shower to lay in bed and keep my eyes closed longer, and after getting dressed in like 2 minutes, I skipped cookies for breakfast and informed Sylvia that I need something to soak up the sangria I could still taste. So we went to Hot Dok. Which is a hot dog stand. I ordered a brat and some french fries because I was starving. I ate on the bus, which made me feel a lot better.
Once we got to the Universitat, we climbed on a bus and mumbled about how we were all going to nap on the way to the ruins (our excursion for the day). However, me, Holly, Analise, and Sylvia and a couple of the guys and people who moved back to join our merryment spent the entire time talking and laughing. More laughing than talking. The combination of our exhaustion and the few memories we've made in the last couple days was hilarious and none of us slept. Mistake.
Once we got to the ruins, we realized that we were once again trekking through history. The ruins were cool but once you've seen one pile of rocks (which we saw when we went to the Museo de Historia de Cataluña), you have really seen them all. It was neat though. John C. Wilcox was our 'guide' for the trip but the man speaks so quietly with his Liverpool accent that the four of us quickly lost interest and focused on making our own fun. Which was a really good time. Rocks (aka ruins) are much more interesting when you're with people you like. We saw some statues, a really famous one but I could have sworn that statue was wearing Crocs.
After the ruins, we thankfully got back on the bus and headed for Girona, a beautiful city with lots of history, hills, and Jewish people. Mostly hills and history. First we had a traditional Spanish lunch. Spainards have their big meal as lunch and it goes on for hours, literally. We ate at this wonderful little Italian restaurant. I had eggplant parmesean as my first plate and fish as my second plate and fruit for dessert. And wine, of course. There was duck confit but JCW (John C. Wilcox) told us it was turkey. Had I know I would have had it. One girl ordered it and didn't like it so she let my table try it. It was amazing. The fish was incredible too. It was Haik (perhaps spelled incorrectly) and was fresh from the Mediterranean with a spinach sauce on top. Lunch took 2 hours and sent me even further spiraling into my sleep deprivation, so why not climb a mountain?
We started on this beautiful bridge with our tour guide (who blessedly spoke English...I have learned that I pay far better attention when I understand almost everything) and pretty much hike up a mountain. I was so exhausted I thought I was going to die. Of course it was breathtaking and fascinating. The city itself has a rich Roman and Jewish history. The coolest part of all, and I'm telling you this was incredible, was that they were in the midst of a festival that honored flowers. Its called tems de flor and it was so pretty. All the buildings had these beautiful arrangments that were everywhere and the air smelled so pretty, like fresh cut lillies. It was so different and awesome. After climbing the mountain for like 2 hours, they finally relented and let us go home where I immediately passed out for like an hour. I'm still salty from sweating my way up the mountain. We had dinner of noodles (which were so much better than last time), marinated mushrooms (which I ate a whole lot of), tortilla española (our señora makes the best! although I asked her if it had horse in it instead of onion which she found hilarious), and flan and ice cream for dessert. Now, I'm off to shower and going to return to La Oveja Negra for some more sangria. Tomorrow we're going to Tarrango to spend some time at the beach. I can't wait! I love Spain and I especially love the people I'm with.
Once we got to the Universitat, we climbed on a bus and mumbled about how we were all going to nap on the way to the ruins (our excursion for the day). However, me, Holly, Analise, and Sylvia and a couple of the guys and people who moved back to join our merryment spent the entire time talking and laughing. More laughing than talking. The combination of our exhaustion and the few memories we've made in the last couple days was hilarious and none of us slept. Mistake.
Once we got to the ruins, we realized that we were once again trekking through history. The ruins were cool but once you've seen one pile of rocks (which we saw when we went to the Museo de Historia de Cataluña), you have really seen them all. It was neat though. John C. Wilcox was our 'guide' for the trip but the man speaks so quietly with his Liverpool accent that the four of us quickly lost interest and focused on making our own fun. Which was a really good time. Rocks (aka ruins) are much more interesting when you're with people you like. We saw some statues, a really famous one but I could have sworn that statue was wearing Crocs.
After the ruins, we thankfully got back on the bus and headed for Girona, a beautiful city with lots of history, hills, and Jewish people. Mostly hills and history. First we had a traditional Spanish lunch. Spainards have their big meal as lunch and it goes on for hours, literally. We ate at this wonderful little Italian restaurant. I had eggplant parmesean as my first plate and fish as my second plate and fruit for dessert. And wine, of course. There was duck confit but JCW (John C. Wilcox) told us it was turkey. Had I know I would have had it. One girl ordered it and didn't like it so she let my table try it. It was amazing. The fish was incredible too. It was Haik (perhaps spelled incorrectly) and was fresh from the Mediterranean with a spinach sauce on top. Lunch took 2 hours and sent me even further spiraling into my sleep deprivation, so why not climb a mountain?
We started on this beautiful bridge with our tour guide (who blessedly spoke English...I have learned that I pay far better attention when I understand almost everything) and pretty much hike up a mountain. I was so exhausted I thought I was going to die. Of course it was breathtaking and fascinating. The city itself has a rich Roman and Jewish history. The coolest part of all, and I'm telling you this was incredible, was that they were in the midst of a festival that honored flowers. Its called tems de flor and it was so pretty. All the buildings had these beautiful arrangments that were everywhere and the air smelled so pretty, like fresh cut lillies. It was so different and awesome. After climbing the mountain for like 2 hours, they finally relented and let us go home where I immediately passed out for like an hour. I'm still salty from sweating my way up the mountain. We had dinner of noodles (which were so much better than last time), marinated mushrooms (which I ate a whole lot of), tortilla española (our señora makes the best! although I asked her if it had horse in it instead of onion which she found hilarious), and flan and ice cream for dessert. Now, I'm off to shower and going to return to La Oveja Negra for some more sangria. Tomorrow we're going to Tarrango to spend some time at the beach. I can't wait! I love Spain and I especially love the people I'm with.
Sangria...Blood of the Gods
Okay, so now I’ve been here for like 2.5 days. I have a lot to tell, but have also had some sangria, which affects me mucho. I deleted the last post because I was trying to do it quickly but only made it really incoherent, so I’ll start from the beginning.
So, after confirming my diagnosis of motion sickness by being on land for more than an hour, we went to the school where we were to meet our host families. Sylvia, my room mate, had already been here for a couple hours so she had already gone there and came to get me with the very adorable and helpful father of my host mother, Maria Jesus. Well, when Sylvia got there I was passed out on the desk, which I’m sure looked good to el abuelito. He probably thought I was drunk, maybe I was. I’m still not sure. I didn’t realize she was with him at first, and he is adorable…and neither speaks nor understands English. He’s shorter than me, and talks really quickly, but is really helpful and hauled one of my bags around as we travelled on public transportation. After we took the bus for like half a decade (actually half an hour. It just seemed like a decade because I was so fuzzy from jet lag), we arrived at what I now know as the intersection of calle Begur and Placa de Sans…I think. El abuelito showed us around the apartment, I think the bathroom, how to use the shower, etc, and left to where ever it is he actually lives, I’m not sure. Sylvia and I decided to go exploring a little.
We headed down the street, towards who knows what, and, because we were starving, ended up in a little counter restaurant. We ordered things that looked good, because that usually works, right? This time, we got pretty lucky. We had this ball of meat and potato that was interesting and served with a delicious spicy sauce that came in a ketchup bottle. When I squirted the sauce out, being an American, I expected ketchup, but this was so much better. We also had a devilled egg with a tuna filled, some fried potatoes, and empanadas that had a chicken and pepper filling. All of it was amazing. And, coke light of course. After that, we went searching for the internet.
Barcelona is a lot different than what I’m used to. Instead of looking near us, which we later learned would have been cheaper and better, we trekked all the way back to the university to find something, anything, to connect us with familiarity. Upon finding the internet, at which point I wasn’t really appreciative of Spanish culture in general, we headed back to our home stay for more food, hygiene, and sleep.
Back at our flat, I had completely forgotten what it looked like, thanks jet lag. I finally met Maria Jesus. She’s so tiny and sweet. I don’t think she cares what we do as long as we’re careful and eat a lot. That’s what she tells us all the time: Come mucho (eat a lot) and leave nothing on our plates! Which is a lot of pressure, trust me. We chatted a little but due to my complete inability to think in Spanish let alone English, she left me and Sylvia to eat the feast she had prepared. There was pasta with red sauce, fried pork, salad, bread, and flan with whipped cream for dessert. The pasta was terrible. I think she was trying to feed us American food. I didn’t come here to eat American food, duh. The pork was incredible, it was so tender and moist. And flan, you can never go wrong with that. We also ate at like 10P. Definitely new to me.
After dinner, I encountered the shower. For those that don’t know, there is a drought going on in Spain, especially Barcelona. While right now there is enough water, soon there may not be so people try and conserve. And Spain in general is just more environmentally friendly. Their busses use natural gas so when they pass you, you don’t get black lung (how cool is that?). Anyways, the shower. It is handheld, and doesn’t really hang on the wall well; actually it hangs, it just floods the bathroom, which doesn’t seem like a kosher thing to do in a stranger’s house. Also, everything seems to have been built before WWII. Although it is very clean, it is just old, like rusty and kind of janky (which is synonymous with junky). The showerhead is the same way. I was somewhat afraid to let it touch me. And the shower curtain kept sticking to me. But after all that travelling, it was getting hot and making me clean, so I’m not complaining. Then, I climbed in my hard bed (which I am longer than…I love this) with its one lumpy pillow and strange sheets and passed out.
The next morning, I woke up a lot because I was talking to myself, as usual. I found Sylvia in the dining room eating breakfast, which consisted of cookies (they were like sweet Ritz crackers), margarine, and jam. So I ate my cookies for breakfast and headed off to class via the bus. The bus is full of mostly old people, apparently young people take the train, but we haven’t figured that out yet. Classes are small, like 10-12 people and are taught by UofI TA’s and one professor, the mysterious John C. Wilcox. My TA is Jordi and he is awesome. He’s from Barcelona so he knows a lot about the culture and the city. After class we had a picnic on the patio. Maria Jesus had made us very long sandwiches which consisted of fresh baguette (which I love) and ham spam (which seriously grosses me out). Of course, I consumed the entire thing as my cookies for breakfast hadn’t won me over yet. She also gave us one of the best oranges I’ve had in my life. And a bottle of water. After class, Sylvia and I showed a bunch of people from our class (mainly Analise and Holly) where the internet is. After the internet, we still had some time so we went and, in true European tradition, drank beer at 2p. I loved not getting carded and paying 1.80 Euro (which is cheap, even in the States) for a drink. I realized half way through though, that I don’t like beer. But I finished it and had a good buzz for our trip to the Museo de Historia de Cataluña.
The museum was interesting mostly. We walked there from the Universitat (which is University in Catalan), and it was quite a hike, not a good day for a skirt and flip flops, oh well. We also got to see Las Ramblas, which is the most famous boulevard in the city and has a lot of touristy stuff. Jordi said not to buy anything there because it’s too expensive. The museum would have been a lot easier to focus had I not had to pee terribly from the beer and not been jet lagged. It was cool to see buildings that are really old and the city that’s under the modern city, which was built by the Romans. Afterwards, we walked back and most people got their cell phones (you had to have ID to get it and 3 of us didn’t). While they did that, the three of us, including Sylvia and this girl that wears heels all the time (which really doesn’t make sense to me, like she must by dying), went and drank wine at a hole in the wall bar. Here they chill the red one and the house stuff is better than some of the high priced stuff in the states. I really love it.
After wine drinking, we walked to Flauta where we had our welcome dinner. It was a tapas style dinner served with red wine. The first dish was a potato dish. The potatoes had the texture of the canned fried onions you use to make green bean casserole. There was also eggs that had been cooked over easy and spices; the yolks from the eggs and the spices made this delicious and rich sauce. This was one of my favorites. We also had tortilla española, which is like quiche without crust. It had potatoes and onions in it and was really good also. There was also a plate of the thinly sliced Serrano ham, which is a huge thing here. That was amazing. There was pan con tomate, which is bread rubbed with tomato and olive oil and salt and pepper and is a traditional dish of the Catalan region. There was a plate with fried anchovies and pepper. The anchovies were surprisingly good, as there the peppers. And lastly, a mini tuna sandwich with roasted red pepper. All in all, a really good meal.
After we had drank enough wine, we walked back to Las Ramblas in search of hot chocolate and pastries, since most shops everywhere else close at 8:30ish (which seems really early, I know). We walked around and just looked at the architecture and the people, and finally found a pandería that was open. I had hot chocolate, which was really just like warm pudding in a cup, and a pastry that was like bread stuffed with nutella. It was amazing. After that we walked back to the Universitat and caught the bus home because we were exhausted.
I pretty much passed out right away when I got back and woke up this morning to shower. After more cookies for breakfast, we went over to another pandería to look for something more substantial. And they always just look so delectable. I chose something with an egg/cream cheese custard and we took the bus to class. During the break, I finally go my cell phone and feel much better about being out and about. After class and an egg and tomato sandwich, we went back to the internet. Later on, we met up with the rest of the group and headed over to the Museo d’Arte, which houses most of Barcelona’s famous art. Interestingly enough, we met a British girl, Charlotte, who was supposed to come out with us but hasn’t yet, hopefully she will she seems interesting. We went to the Romantic part, which I thought would be a lot different. It was mostly recovered paintings from churches, which was interesting for like 30 minutes but then got kind of boring. Funny story though (and I have been given permission to write about this…actually, Analise told me to).
So we’re sitting on these marble benches listening to the guide talk about the paintings in Spanish. Analise was sitting behind me, and actually next to Professor John C. Wilcox, and managed to fall asleep. She woke herself up when she gassed so loud that it pretty much echoed around the silent room. We couldn’t keep a straight face for hours. Right next to the professor, good job.
By the way, the museum is like one billion stairs from the street level. Literally. But the view was amazing. Like I wanted to sit there with a glass of wine just watching the sun set. It was breathtaking. We had some lemonade and sat out after a defeating climb up the most stairs iI have ever experienced in my life. This museum is like 1 mile above street level, and its a combination of stairs and escalators to get up to the top. Totally worth it though. After the boring stuff we got to see some more modern stuff, like Picasso, which was really cool. Then we walked over to the Olympic village, which also had a great view of the city. After that, we came back here and took a nap, because it was like 8P and we were planning on going out. Eventually, Maria Jesus returned from work and we ate dinner around 10:30. I thought, after ham spam and cookies for breakfast, she wasn’t going to deliver, but oh man did she come through. She had arroz con pollo, which was perfectly spiced and the chicken was so tender. In addition to that (she really likes us to eat a lot) she had salad, pan con tomate, fried chicken, and flan with really yummy ice cream. It was a good, home cooked meal after a long day. Throughout dinner though, the damn dog kept barking for food. I wanted to strangle the bitch. I don’t care how old you are, you are a mean dog who doesn’t want to cuddle, how rude. Yuli is the dog…she’s like 14 and constantly wants food and hates me and Sylvia. After dinner, we got ready in a pinch since it was already 11P and headed over to Las Ramblas for some time on the town.
On the way there, we walked through Placa España (I think…these are everywhere but this one is near the really big El Core Ingles…which is a department store) where strangers were trying to sell you beer from a six pack for 1 euro. This crazy kid from our group was trying to talk to the locals who kept asking him if he had pot, and two girls took off with some guys that were eyeing them. All in all, our group makes tourist fools out of themselves on a regular basis (me included). So we headed down Las Ramblas to the Oreja Negra which is a bar. Inside we ordered one liter of sangria (it’s like a pitcher that you would fill with soda at a pizza shop) which we split between 3 people. We managed to sit next to some Americans who are studying here (we were actively avoiding our group since one of them had just been kicked out for something) who told about some places to try (which I cannot remember…oh well). Eventually the Americans left and I ended up making eyes with a guy at the table over, who came over to introduce himself as Rufens. He was really fun so we moved over to his group who turned out to be mostly Brazilian. They guy who made eyes at me wasn’t messing around, he ended up flirting profusely (kissing on the lips, according to him, is necessary and must happen often in Spain…but he didn’t do that with the other girls…hmmm) with me and gave me his number. He already has big plans. We drank a lot more sangria, which was yummy, and got a little drunk, and headed home. The bar was a lot of fun and we totally have plans to go back, and I can’t wait.
Good news! Maria Jesus has the internet, she just has to plug it in, which Sylvia told her I should do since I work with computers. I work with computers in English and its usually pretty touch and go then, I’m pretty sure trying to get her internet up in Spanish would be a disaster; but she’s going to get it running on Saturday so I won’t have to use the internet café anymore. Tomorrow we are going on an excursion and I have to wake up in like 2 hours, so I should get some sleep. Hopefully my pictures will be up soon, I have lots I promise!
So, after confirming my diagnosis of motion sickness by being on land for more than an hour, we went to the school where we were to meet our host families. Sylvia, my room mate, had already been here for a couple hours so she had already gone there and came to get me with the very adorable and helpful father of my host mother, Maria Jesus. Well, when Sylvia got there I was passed out on the desk, which I’m sure looked good to el abuelito. He probably thought I was drunk, maybe I was. I’m still not sure. I didn’t realize she was with him at first, and he is adorable…and neither speaks nor understands English. He’s shorter than me, and talks really quickly, but is really helpful and hauled one of my bags around as we travelled on public transportation. After we took the bus for like half a decade (actually half an hour. It just seemed like a decade because I was so fuzzy from jet lag), we arrived at what I now know as the intersection of calle Begur and Placa de Sans…I think. El abuelito showed us around the apartment, I think the bathroom, how to use the shower, etc, and left to where ever it is he actually lives, I’m not sure. Sylvia and I decided to go exploring a little.
We headed down the street, towards who knows what, and, because we were starving, ended up in a little counter restaurant. We ordered things that looked good, because that usually works, right? This time, we got pretty lucky. We had this ball of meat and potato that was interesting and served with a delicious spicy sauce that came in a ketchup bottle. When I squirted the sauce out, being an American, I expected ketchup, but this was so much better. We also had a devilled egg with a tuna filled, some fried potatoes, and empanadas that had a chicken and pepper filling. All of it was amazing. And, coke light of course. After that, we went searching for the internet.
Barcelona is a lot different than what I’m used to. Instead of looking near us, which we later learned would have been cheaper and better, we trekked all the way back to the university to find something, anything, to connect us with familiarity. Upon finding the internet, at which point I wasn’t really appreciative of Spanish culture in general, we headed back to our home stay for more food, hygiene, and sleep.
Back at our flat, I had completely forgotten what it looked like, thanks jet lag. I finally met Maria Jesus. She’s so tiny and sweet. I don’t think she cares what we do as long as we’re careful and eat a lot. That’s what she tells us all the time: Come mucho (eat a lot) and leave nothing on our plates! Which is a lot of pressure, trust me. We chatted a little but due to my complete inability to think in Spanish let alone English, she left me and Sylvia to eat the feast she had prepared. There was pasta with red sauce, fried pork, salad, bread, and flan with whipped cream for dessert. The pasta was terrible. I think she was trying to feed us American food. I didn’t come here to eat American food, duh. The pork was incredible, it was so tender and moist. And flan, you can never go wrong with that. We also ate at like 10P. Definitely new to me.
After dinner, I encountered the shower. For those that don’t know, there is a drought going on in Spain, especially Barcelona. While right now there is enough water, soon there may not be so people try and conserve. And Spain in general is just more environmentally friendly. Their busses use natural gas so when they pass you, you don’t get black lung (how cool is that?). Anyways, the shower. It is handheld, and doesn’t really hang on the wall well; actually it hangs, it just floods the bathroom, which doesn’t seem like a kosher thing to do in a stranger’s house. Also, everything seems to have been built before WWII. Although it is very clean, it is just old, like rusty and kind of janky (which is synonymous with junky). The showerhead is the same way. I was somewhat afraid to let it touch me. And the shower curtain kept sticking to me. But after all that travelling, it was getting hot and making me clean, so I’m not complaining. Then, I climbed in my hard bed (which I am longer than…I love this) with its one lumpy pillow and strange sheets and passed out.
The next morning, I woke up a lot because I was talking to myself, as usual. I found Sylvia in the dining room eating breakfast, which consisted of cookies (they were like sweet Ritz crackers), margarine, and jam. So I ate my cookies for breakfast and headed off to class via the bus. The bus is full of mostly old people, apparently young people take the train, but we haven’t figured that out yet. Classes are small, like 10-12 people and are taught by UofI TA’s and one professor, the mysterious John C. Wilcox. My TA is Jordi and he is awesome. He’s from Barcelona so he knows a lot about the culture and the city. After class we had a picnic on the patio. Maria Jesus had made us very long sandwiches which consisted of fresh baguette (which I love) and ham spam (which seriously grosses me out). Of course, I consumed the entire thing as my cookies for breakfast hadn’t won me over yet. She also gave us one of the best oranges I’ve had in my life. And a bottle of water. After class, Sylvia and I showed a bunch of people from our class (mainly Analise and Holly) where the internet is. After the internet, we still had some time so we went and, in true European tradition, drank beer at 2p. I loved not getting carded and paying 1.80 Euro (which is cheap, even in the States) for a drink. I realized half way through though, that I don’t like beer. But I finished it and had a good buzz for our trip to the Museo de Historia de Cataluña.
The museum was interesting mostly. We walked there from the Universitat (which is University in Catalan), and it was quite a hike, not a good day for a skirt and flip flops, oh well. We also got to see Las Ramblas, which is the most famous boulevard in the city and has a lot of touristy stuff. Jordi said not to buy anything there because it’s too expensive. The museum would have been a lot easier to focus had I not had to pee terribly from the beer and not been jet lagged. It was cool to see buildings that are really old and the city that’s under the modern city, which was built by the Romans. Afterwards, we walked back and most people got their cell phones (you had to have ID to get it and 3 of us didn’t). While they did that, the three of us, including Sylvia and this girl that wears heels all the time (which really doesn’t make sense to me, like she must by dying), went and drank wine at a hole in the wall bar. Here they chill the red one and the house stuff is better than some of the high priced stuff in the states. I really love it.
After wine drinking, we walked to Flauta where we had our welcome dinner. It was a tapas style dinner served with red wine. The first dish was a potato dish. The potatoes had the texture of the canned fried onions you use to make green bean casserole. There was also eggs that had been cooked over easy and spices; the yolks from the eggs and the spices made this delicious and rich sauce. This was one of my favorites. We also had tortilla española, which is like quiche without crust. It had potatoes and onions in it and was really good also. There was also a plate of the thinly sliced Serrano ham, which is a huge thing here. That was amazing. There was pan con tomate, which is bread rubbed with tomato and olive oil and salt and pepper and is a traditional dish of the Catalan region. There was a plate with fried anchovies and pepper. The anchovies were surprisingly good, as there the peppers. And lastly, a mini tuna sandwich with roasted red pepper. All in all, a really good meal.
After we had drank enough wine, we walked back to Las Ramblas in search of hot chocolate and pastries, since most shops everywhere else close at 8:30ish (which seems really early, I know). We walked around and just looked at the architecture and the people, and finally found a pandería that was open. I had hot chocolate, which was really just like warm pudding in a cup, and a pastry that was like bread stuffed with nutella. It was amazing. After that we walked back to the Universitat and caught the bus home because we were exhausted.
I pretty much passed out right away when I got back and woke up this morning to shower. After more cookies for breakfast, we went over to another pandería to look for something more substantial. And they always just look so delectable. I chose something with an egg/cream cheese custard and we took the bus to class. During the break, I finally go my cell phone and feel much better about being out and about. After class and an egg and tomato sandwich, we went back to the internet. Later on, we met up with the rest of the group and headed over to the Museo d’Arte, which houses most of Barcelona’s famous art. Interestingly enough, we met a British girl, Charlotte, who was supposed to come out with us but hasn’t yet, hopefully she will she seems interesting. We went to the Romantic part, which I thought would be a lot different. It was mostly recovered paintings from churches, which was interesting for like 30 minutes but then got kind of boring. Funny story though (and I have been given permission to write about this…actually, Analise told me to).
So we’re sitting on these marble benches listening to the guide talk about the paintings in Spanish. Analise was sitting behind me, and actually next to Professor John C. Wilcox, and managed to fall asleep. She woke herself up when she gassed so loud that it pretty much echoed around the silent room. We couldn’t keep a straight face for hours. Right next to the professor, good job.
By the way, the museum is like one billion stairs from the street level. Literally. But the view was amazing. Like I wanted to sit there with a glass of wine just watching the sun set. It was breathtaking. We had some lemonade and sat out after a defeating climb up the most stairs iI have ever experienced in my life. This museum is like 1 mile above street level, and its a combination of stairs and escalators to get up to the top. Totally worth it though. After the boring stuff we got to see some more modern stuff, like Picasso, which was really cool. Then we walked over to the Olympic village, which also had a great view of the city. After that, we came back here and took a nap, because it was like 8P and we were planning on going out. Eventually, Maria Jesus returned from work and we ate dinner around 10:30. I thought, after ham spam and cookies for breakfast, she wasn’t going to deliver, but oh man did she come through. She had arroz con pollo, which was perfectly spiced and the chicken was so tender. In addition to that (she really likes us to eat a lot) she had salad, pan con tomate, fried chicken, and flan with really yummy ice cream. It was a good, home cooked meal after a long day. Throughout dinner though, the damn dog kept barking for food. I wanted to strangle the bitch. I don’t care how old you are, you are a mean dog who doesn’t want to cuddle, how rude. Yuli is the dog…she’s like 14 and constantly wants food and hates me and Sylvia. After dinner, we got ready in a pinch since it was already 11P and headed over to Las Ramblas for some time on the town.
On the way there, we walked through Placa España (I think…these are everywhere but this one is near the really big El Core Ingles…which is a department store) where strangers were trying to sell you beer from a six pack for 1 euro. This crazy kid from our group was trying to talk to the locals who kept asking him if he had pot, and two girls took off with some guys that were eyeing them. All in all, our group makes tourist fools out of themselves on a regular basis (me included). So we headed down Las Ramblas to the Oreja Negra which is a bar. Inside we ordered one liter of sangria (it’s like a pitcher that you would fill with soda at a pizza shop) which we split between 3 people. We managed to sit next to some Americans who are studying here (we were actively avoiding our group since one of them had just been kicked out for something) who told about some places to try (which I cannot remember…oh well). Eventually the Americans left and I ended up making eyes with a guy at the table over, who came over to introduce himself as Rufens. He was really fun so we moved over to his group who turned out to be mostly Brazilian. They guy who made eyes at me wasn’t messing around, he ended up flirting profusely (kissing on the lips, according to him, is necessary and must happen often in Spain…but he didn’t do that with the other girls…hmmm) with me and gave me his number. He already has big plans. We drank a lot more sangria, which was yummy, and got a little drunk, and headed home. The bar was a lot of fun and we totally have plans to go back, and I can’t wait.
Good news! Maria Jesus has the internet, she just has to plug it in, which Sylvia told her I should do since I work with computers. I work with computers in English and its usually pretty touch and go then, I’m pretty sure trying to get her internet up in Spanish would be a disaster; but she’s going to get it running on Saturday so I won’t have to use the internet café anymore. Tomorrow we are going on an excursion and I have to wake up in like 2 hours, so I should get some sleep. Hopefully my pictures will be up soon, I have lots I promise!
5.13.2008
Motion Sickness...or Hangover?
Well, I am finally here in beautiful, techonology free Barcelona. The city is beautiful, the Universitat is amazing, and everything is slightly antiquated. Which means I have no connection with the outside world on a regular basis, unless you count my debit card. The flight, was something else.
Remember how I was so excited I thought I was going to puke? Well, I learned the other side of I'm going to puke.
So we got on the plane, which was huge and about 10 million degrees, and moved all the way to the back, in the economy cabin. My seat was in the dead center. I tried like hell to try and switch so that I could be somewhere with my own personal airspace to no avail. The plane was nice, the seats weren't too close together, but still squished enough to make you wonder what the people in first class were feeling. After we took off, they came around and offered us a cocktail. Since I was at the back of the plane and the flight attendant started at the front, I had to wait awhile to get my drunk. During this time, we hit some turbulence. Now, I've flown before but I thought that plane was going to roll. And I started to get nauseous. This goes on for some time, but they still haven't gottento me with the drink cart. By the time they got to me, I was feeling okay. So I was like, I'll get some red wine, that will take the edge off. They came around later with dinner, which was mediocre, and after dinner I was feeling okay so I got some more wine. In the seat in front of you you had your own personal TV screen so I watched some TV and tried to calm down. Eventually (who knows what time it was or what time it felt like), I started to go to sleep. Plugged my ear plugs in and tried to find a comfortable position (which was damn near impossible). So, maybe like 10 minutes later, I wake up because candy-infused kid was sobbing the way you do when you can't sleep and its all you want in the world. This went on for like...an hour solid and then on and off for the rest of the night. Awesome. So I triedto sleep some more, because by now I was actually tired, and nodded off but was awoken with a feeling of serious nausea which didn't leave until we were on land again. So I thought I was hungover...or maybe motion sick. I think a combo of both. But I really thought I could puke for like 6 hours there. Which I really didn´t like. But eventually we got here, and Barcelona is beautiful and the weather is AMAZING! There are palm trees everywhere!
So now, I haven't slept in 2 days, which is starting to catch up to me. I also got to taste my first spanish food. A ball that had potato and meat and was deep fried served with a spicy sauce, a deviled egg stuffed with a surprise tuna filling, a delicious empanada that had a chicken filling, and some potatos. Sylvia and I still haven't met our host mother but her Dad came to get me and he's really helpful and adorable, even though I clearly do not understand most of what he says to me. Our home is....interesting. We have our own rooms, which is nice. It just seems antiquated to what I'm used to. Like a frilly, old woman decorated it, which I understand Maria Jesus is not. All the walls are mauve. We do have a dog who apparently loves the jámon. Understandably. So she'll be home at 9P (or 21:00 because they do military time here. I really have no idea what time it is, ever)...aka 2P Central Time, to make us dinner. I'm trying to get over some SERIOUS jetlag by staying up until 10P, but I could totally fall asleep in La Plaza Catalunya, let all my stuff get stolen, but at least I'd finally be asleep. Sylvia wanted to go out but I lack a cell phone, brain function, and the Spanish skills for that to be a good idea.
But I'm off to catch the bus...we live like 30 minutes away from the Universitat. But the busses are nice and clean, so whatever. Class starts tomorrow...I'm excited!
Remember how I was so excited I thought I was going to puke? Well, I learned the other side of I'm going to puke.
So we got on the plane, which was huge and about 10 million degrees, and moved all the way to the back, in the economy cabin. My seat was in the dead center. I tried like hell to try and switch so that I could be somewhere with my own personal airspace to no avail. The plane was nice, the seats weren't too close together, but still squished enough to make you wonder what the people in first class were feeling. After we took off, they came around and offered us a cocktail. Since I was at the back of the plane and the flight attendant started at the front, I had to wait awhile to get my drunk. During this time, we hit some turbulence. Now, I've flown before but I thought that plane was going to roll. And I started to get nauseous. This goes on for some time, but they still haven't gottento me with the drink cart. By the time they got to me, I was feeling okay. So I was like, I'll get some red wine, that will take the edge off. They came around later with dinner, which was mediocre, and after dinner I was feeling okay so I got some more wine. In the seat in front of you you had your own personal TV screen so I watched some TV and tried to calm down. Eventually (who knows what time it was or what time it felt like), I started to go to sleep. Plugged my ear plugs in and tried to find a comfortable position (which was damn near impossible). So, maybe like 10 minutes later, I wake up because candy-infused kid was sobbing the way you do when you can't sleep and its all you want in the world. This went on for like...an hour solid and then on and off for the rest of the night. Awesome. So I triedto sleep some more, because by now I was actually tired, and nodded off but was awoken with a feeling of serious nausea which didn't leave until we were on land again. So I thought I was hungover...or maybe motion sick. I think a combo of both. But I really thought I could puke for like 6 hours there. Which I really didn´t like. But eventually we got here, and Barcelona is beautiful and the weather is AMAZING! There are palm trees everywhere!
So now, I haven't slept in 2 days, which is starting to catch up to me. I also got to taste my first spanish food. A ball that had potato and meat and was deep fried served with a spicy sauce, a deviled egg stuffed with a surprise tuna filling, a delicious empanada that had a chicken filling, and some potatos. Sylvia and I still haven't met our host mother but her Dad came to get me and he's really helpful and adorable, even though I clearly do not understand most of what he says to me. Our home is....interesting. We have our own rooms, which is nice. It just seems antiquated to what I'm used to. Like a frilly, old woman decorated it, which I understand Maria Jesus is not. All the walls are mauve. We do have a dog who apparently loves the jámon. Understandably. So she'll be home at 9P (or 21:00 because they do military time here. I really have no idea what time it is, ever)...aka 2P Central Time, to make us dinner. I'm trying to get over some SERIOUS jetlag by staying up until 10P, but I could totally fall asleep in La Plaza Catalunya, let all my stuff get stolen, but at least I'd finally be asleep. Sylvia wanted to go out but I lack a cell phone, brain function, and the Spanish skills for that to be a good idea.
But I'm off to catch the bus...we live like 30 minutes away from the Universitat. But the busses are nice and clean, so whatever. Class starts tomorrow...I'm excited!
5.12.2008
Musings on the Chicago International Terminal
It's FINALLY May 12th. The day I leave. I had trouble falling asleep because I had that funny feeling in my tummy when you get all excited, like when you were little and Santa was coming. Same thing. You kind of want to puke, but in a good way.
So here I am, in the Chicago International Terminal, the portal to traveling the world. You would never know the great destinations people head to from the looks of this place. It is grade A boring. The moving sidewalks (a personal favorite due to their support of the lazy, yet tired traveler) don't work. There isn't anywhere to eat. I actually made the mistake of going through security thinking I could just grab something on the other side when I got hungry, nope. There are several places where you can get a beer; however, you must be 21 even though the US is pretty much the only place in the world where you can go to war but can't drink away the memories of it. So I left the gate and went to McDonald's. My last American meal for awhile, I figured I'd do it up right.
So the main form of entertainment, besides tetris, is people watching. The variety of people here is awesome. The accents, ways of dress, and mannerisms differ from group to group. The way of dress is probably my favorite. There is apparently, more than one airline that requires their stewardesses to wear hats that look kind of like a cross between the traditional Mountie topper and a fedora. I kind of want one.
My prospect for this flight should be interesting. There are 2 children under the age of 6 about 100 feet from me eating candy. Awesome. And, their travel companions are a couple with a baby who is being pushed wildly around the gate by a 4 year old. But the little boy just waved and smiled at me, granting him more leeway to be obnoxious on the plane. The longest I've flown at one has been like 3 hours, tops; this flight is 9 hours. I'm stoked.
¡Les pierdo y hasta luego!
So here I am, in the Chicago International Terminal, the portal to traveling the world. You would never know the great destinations people head to from the looks of this place. It is grade A boring. The moving sidewalks (a personal favorite due to their support of the lazy, yet tired traveler) don't work. There isn't anywhere to eat. I actually made the mistake of going through security thinking I could just grab something on the other side when I got hungry, nope. There are several places where you can get a beer; however, you must be 21 even though the US is pretty much the only place in the world where you can go to war but can't drink away the memories of it. So I left the gate and went to McDonald's. My last American meal for awhile, I figured I'd do it up right.
So the main form of entertainment, besides tetris, is people watching. The variety of people here is awesome. The accents, ways of dress, and mannerisms differ from group to group. The way of dress is probably my favorite. There is apparently, more than one airline that requires their stewardesses to wear hats that look kind of like a cross between the traditional Mountie topper and a fedora. I kind of want one.
My prospect for this flight should be interesting. There are 2 children under the age of 6 about 100 feet from me eating candy. Awesome. And, their travel companions are a couple with a baby who is being pushed wildly around the gate by a 4 year old. But the little boy just waved and smiled at me, granting him more leeway to be obnoxious on the plane. The longest I've flown at one has been like 3 hours, tops; this flight is 9 hours. I'm stoked.
¡Les pierdo y hasta luego!
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