Such As It Ends, But It Was Such an End

This is basically what we did when we were all together and lost in a foreign country. Best two weeks ever. It’s mostly for Michelle, Marie, and I, so some of it is just keywords that will make us remember and might not make a lick of sense to any other body.

July 29
Justin went to Noe’s. We went to Chinchón. Realized difference between barras/barres. One is the plural of “bar” the other is the plural of “whorehouse.” Oops.

July 30
Marie came but Michelle didn’t. Noelia took us to a castle in Manzanares Real. Marie slept forever. We went to Lavapiés Barrio and Melo’s Bar which was Gallego and we ate a zapatilla. It was definitely enough food for four people but sadly is closed for all of August for vacaciones so we could only eat there once. Gallegans apparently drink their vino out of little bowls. We also had some salted peppers and croquetas. Then we walked around toward La Puerta del Sol, Gran Vía, and Chueca where we had some Madrid typical vermouth.

July 31
Michelle came and we went to some pueblo Navalcanero (?) with Noelia and Nana. Went to this ham place where Michelle’s “hair was all up in that ham.” We ate cena with them in Madrid. As usual, it was a ton of food.

Aug 1
Ate churros and porras con chocolate for breakfast. Porras are like churros but porros are joints like marijuana. Once again, oops. Moved into hotel. Said goodbye to Noe because she was going on vacation with Nana and Miguel to the Canary Islands and it was sad. Went to grocery store, which was quite an adventure. The conversion of kilograms to pounds is 1:2.2. We messed up and ended up getting a lot a lot a lot of crappy meat. We also just grabbed the first thing that said “leche” which was a bad idea since it was disgusting whole milk. We ended up with a whole kilo of salt too. The Reina Sofia Art Museum was almost a huge bust. The first room we went to was practically empty with these metal boxes. It was a bad omen but then all of a sudden we found El Guernica and it was awesome. Naaaap. Meeeat. So, I’ve started drinking milk and juice mixed together and I think it’s fantastic so I decided to share it with my sisters. Well, we had some gross milk and I think the one I mixed for Marie was more milky and therefore more gross. She almost threw up. We thought she was being a baby, but then we tasted her’s. It was gross indeed.

Aug 2
El Rastro=world’s largest flea market, bought a bunch of craappp. The roundabouts are so confusing for walking and the fact that street signs don’t exist consistently is rough. Buen Retiro and saw the Crystal Palace and some cool monuments and stuff. Then we walked home and it was farrr. Then we went to a bullfight and we liked it when the bull tried to jump the fence and when the matador got rocked and the showy turquoise guy who air humped a lott. It was better than the one in Sevilla and 1/6 the price. Then went for some food. Some rude waitress. We added Marie to the room becauase she wasn’t on there earlier and the only thing different about our new room was the number of plates. And that it’s 35€ more/night.

Aug 3
Atocha (train station) and Alcalá. We walkedddd and saw everythiinngg. Old guy in speedo with the belly. Got some good workout in the parque. Got real tapas and bought the most random assortment of groceries to bring allll the way back to Madrid. Then we walked home from Nuevos Ministerios. Cervantes house, first chino and Michelle and Justin had the simultaneous idea to go in different directions so the Chinese lady watching us would be torn over whom to follow. Taking pictures in the reflection of the train window.

Aug 4
Prado=5 hrs. saw it all. Awesome. The rock table/mosaic thingies were sweeeet. McDonlad’s that was really posh and modern and had beer and café con helado. Then we didn’t have time to go change or siesta before Carmen so we walked there and went to the production in our tourist attire. Flamenco Carmen was not what I was expecting but was incredible nonetheless. Incredible. Michelle said bravo a lot and clapped at awkward moments…more than once. Marie knows numbers; Michelle does not. Melo’s Bar is closed for August. =[ Carnival after the Thai/Indian/Cell Phone Store. Michelle’s freaking hat. Don’t joder me!

Aug 5
We did nothing. Marie woke up at about 3pm. We sat around and played cards and listened to music all day. We never get to just spend an entire day together even in the US so it was still ok. We also did some laundry in the sink and let it dry on the bars outside our window. Most of them stayed. Two pairs of my underwear and one of michelle’s shirts fell the few stories down sometime during the seven hours between washing and when we went outside to the grocery store. At the store, Michelle wanted cheese but didn’t know how much to get. “100 grams?” “I dunno. How much is that? 100 is a big number.”

Aug 6
Breakfast at a café. Park and played on a crappy playground and in some fun fountains. The National Cathedral is ugly, the viaduct has an ugly plastic wall around it because it was a very popular suicide spot (it was not worth seeing at all but my guide book recommended it for some reason), jardines vistillas ugly, Parque Atenas was ugly also, plaza de españa (played cards) was cool. A lot of ugly, but it was ugly Spanish things so it was definitely still awesome.

Aug 7
Campo del Moro (Royal Gardens) and picnicked and siesta-ed and played cards and got attacked by birds and got shat on. Then we went to Templo de Debot (Egyptian temple) waited for it to open then saw the one sign where it was posted that it has weird hours in August like every other damn thing in Spain. So we decided to go to La Ermita del San Antonio de la Florida to see some of Goya’s frescoes in their original location. Turns out I led us to bus station 26 near Puerta del Sol instead of monument 26 which is right next to Templo de Debot. Eeeeefffff! But we walked down Gran Vía to get there, it’s a really cool street with nice architecture.

Aug 8
Today, we ACTUALLY went to Templo de Debot and San Antonio. Impressive but nothing too special. The temple was a bit of a bust. Goya definitely won that contest. Marie and Justin were pretty museumed out but Michelle insisted on finishing the art museum triple crown and going to the Thyssen. We went. It was an art museum. Then we decided to find some souvenirs by walking down Gran Vía again. We wandered in Chueca and found some good shops without hardly any tourists in sight but a lot of locals. It’s crazy how many people are out so late when you compare it to the US. Not just young people either, old folks, too. Then we went to this really nice yet inexpensive restaurant because Michelle wouldn’t stop complaining about not having tried “Spanish” food yet. Then we walked back down Gran Vía and saw the buildings at night. They look very different. Justin was sad and almost cried and may have had his sisters not been there. He would have sat on a bench for an hour or two just looking at the Metropolis building, Palace of Communication, La Puerta de Alcalá, and Spaniards.

Aug 9
We thought we had booked tickets for a 1045 flight but it turns out we didn’t. we managed to get tickets the same day at 330 but for much more money. We got to the Barcelona airport and waited for Lydia because we thought she was also arriving by plane from her vacation. She was actually arriving by car from the opposite side of Barce, so we waited in the airport for an extra few hours for no reason. Lydia’s place is nice, though, and we really like it. It’s close to a metro stop, which is close to a cheap shoe store where we all bought a new pair. We ended up spending all day in airports and didn’t actually do anything Spanish at all.

Aug 10
After having a hectic day at the airport, we decided to spend the whole day at the beach. We got off a stop early to walk through a park, which turned out to be a great choice. At first, we took a wrong turn and went through a nasty dog park, which turned out to be a bad choice. But we found our way after asking for directions. A gigantic fountain with lots of little fountains and decorations and gold statues and awesomeness was in the real park…and a wooly mammoth. The beach in Barcelona kinda sucked a lot. The water was dirty and cold and the sand was rocky, not sandy (all unlike Valencia), but it was better than the beach in Iowa so we were all happy.

Then we came back to Lydia and Marta’s and made them an American meal: meatloaf, mashed potatoes (mashed with forks :( ), and green beans. Marta was sick so didn’t have any, but we think Lydia liked it. At least she said she did.

Aug 11
We were tourists. We saw: Cathedral, Santa Maria del Mar, Picasso Museum, La Rambla.
The patron saint of Barcelona is a twelve year old girl who survived thirteen tortures including being rolled down the street in a barrel full of knives and glass and being burned at the stake. She died during the thirteenth torture: crucifixion. Everything in the center is really close together because everything was built in gothic style in the gothic era, apparently. It all looks so stereotypically European. Anyway, this is how we stumbled upon Santa Maria del Mar, a cathedral-y church, before we had meant to. Incredible architecture mixed with powerful organ music is really moving, and it really isn’t a surprise to us that people back in the day were awed at “the power of God.” After The Prado, Reina Sofia, and the Thyssen, the Picasso Museum was underwhelming, but we are still glad we went. Justin got pooped on AGAIN on La Rambla…and offered drugs, but not as often as in Lisbon.

We ate lunch at Casa del Delfín. Marie had meatballs with cuttlefish, Justin had lambs brains, and Michelle had squid ink paella. Delicious and cultural.

Aug 12
We did the Paseo de Gracia. That’s not what it’s actually called. It has some Catalán name, which is why I don’t remember it, so this is the Castellano name. This walk is famous for the Gaudí designed buildings on it: Casa Batlló and Casa Pedrera. They were cool from the outside and probably better inside, but it cost a lot lot lot to go in and the lines were ridik. Then we saw La Sagrada Familia, Gaudí’s unfinished cathedral. It’s ugly. Then we walked (a very, very long way I might add) to Park Güell, another Gaudí work. It’s not a park in the traditional sense, by any means. There is no grass. I was sad. There are just a bunch of modernist structures, which were fun to look at.

Aug 13
Didn’t write anything when it happened, so we don’t remember.

Aug 14
Didn’t write anything when it happened, so we don’t remember.

Some quotes:

“Hurry up hurry up! Come on! Get the kids up! Orange juice! Let’s go! Go to the airport!” –Nana saying it all in Spanish EXCPEPT for orange juice.

“You must call me raptor.” –Justin (I don’t remember why)

“It’s a good thing it happened to you and not me.” –Michelle after Justin got pooped on.

“When’s wedding season?” –Michelle along with a jillion other ridiculous questions

“Is it ‘gracias’ or ‘gratheatlejth?’” –Marie after hearing Michelle butcher the pronunciation repeatedly

The Roads Are Like Sidewalks for Cars

I saw Harry Potter 6. It’s called “Harry Potter and the Mystery of the Prince.” A horcrux is horrocruxo in Spanish. It’s weird.

This session’s program organized trip was to Valencia. Valencia is in the southeast on the Mediterranean coast. The language they speak there, in addition to Castellano (Spanish), is Valenciano which is really close to Catalán. It’s a romance language, so like most romance languages, I can read it decently but aural comprehension is practically nil. Valencia was amazing, but so is everywhere I’ve been in Spain. We visited a beautiful cathedral as well as a few other interesting historical places on our tour. Typical food—by that I don’t mean the locals eat it all the time but rather something you should try while you’re there—typical food in Valencia is horchata (or orxata) and paella. Horchata is like the liquid squeezed from some kind of nut that’s been soaking in I think it was water. I’m not a huge fan. I’d drink it if someone offered it, but I don’t think I’ll buy it again. Paella Valenciana is paella (cooked rice…probably more complicated than that, but I don’t know) with chicken in it. It seemed like the exact same thing as chicken fried rice from Great Wall or somewhere. I’m probably offending someone by saying that.

Something I don’t think I’ve mentioned before is the Spanish norm of having three course meals at restaurants. Many times, restaurants don’t have menus like we would think. They have “the menu of the day” which I guess could be called the special except a lot of times, they ONLY have the menu of the day and that’s it. Other restaurants will just hand you a list of what they have for first course, second course, dessert, and drinks. Everything is the same price (6-12€ at the places I go) and includes everything no matter what you get. What I’m trying to say is that one of my friends was sick so I ended up eating probably four and a half courses.

Something else I don’t think I’ve mentioned before is the Spanish norm of botellón. Botellón is the Spanish equivalent of the American pre-game…only far superior. You basically get cheap wine (I usually go for the .79€ stuff) or liquor and meet all of your friends (and enemies) in a park. Common botellón drinks: tinto de verano (literally ‘red wine of summer’ but is like wine with Sprite or 7-Up) and calimocho (wine and Coca-Cola). Sometimes, we never end up going to a bar because there are so many people in the park that you wouldn’t gain anything at a bar besides music. It’s so much more fun than pre-gaming because no one cares that you are loud and you don’t have to worry about bothering anyone. Well, I guess that isn’t true. In Valencia, we were having a small botellón with just Americans in a park that had some sweet looking ruins when we were yelled at by this homeless man who was trying to sleep. It was a public park, but it was also his bedroom so we decided to relocate. We found a better spot where, judging by the litter and arrangement of rocks for sitting, botellóning was common. Fun, fun night.

Valencia used to have the Ebro River going through the middle of it, but it kept flooding the city so they re-routed it. The riverbed is now a long, river-shaped park full of gardens and playgrounds and fútbol fields and what not. We came across a rehearsal of Grease down there. It was in Spanish. “Summer Nights” is better in English. We eventually got to the Ciudad de los Artes y Ciencias, which is a group of museums and the second (?) largest aquarium in Europe…or the world. It’s apparently amazing and therefore cost 30€ to get in. We didn’t go. The area was really cool, though.

One of my favorite touristy stops was the Fallero Museum. I really should have wrote this all down right away because I can’t remember the names of everything and I don’t feel like looking it up, but The Fallas Festival is in March and looks totally awesome. I’m coming back for it. It started out as a competition between the barrios of Valencia. Each group would make this huge sculpture thing and then at the end of the festival, they burn them. They are really complex, gigantic, and impressing whether they are on fire or not. The stereotypical resident of Valencia loves noise so there are a lot of fireworks both during the day and night. My mom’s been and she was telling me that it’s like a city-wide party. She didn’t know about any of the other places in Valencia I was telling her about because she only saw the city at night because she was there during festival time. The videos they showed and the parts of some of the winning fallas they had in the museum really made me want to go. It’s art, culture, and a party. What else could you want?

Valencia is on the Mediterranean coast so we naturally went to the beach. This beach was absolutely amazing. The water was much warmer than in Asturias/Cantabria and the waves were bigger and more fun to swim in. There were definitely some characters lying out around us. Other than the usual topless women and nearly naked men, there was this boy COVERED in sand running around in his underwear and floaties while his “parents” seemed to be enjoying some PG ménage à trois. We also witnessed a handie and plenty of dry-humping. I’m sorry if saying that is offense or you find it inappropriate, but life is apparently full of inappropriate Spaniards.

That night we were planning on going out to see the city, watch fireworks, or find some theatre to go to, but we ended up staying in a talking about music and editing pictures for about 3 hours. I didn’t expect to find such good friends here, but I’m starting to actually like these dumb Americans. =] Oh, and when I got back to Alcalá, I walked into our empty house only it wasn’t empty. There was a dog inside. We don’t own a dog. Good thing I’m pretty much a dog whisperer or else it would have been weird.

One of our last botellóns in Alcalá was one of the best. I had a slightly awkward situation with my family when I left but that’s going in my personal journal. We met a huge group of Spaniards in a park and did the whole, typical sharing of drinks that makes me feel all warm inside (in more than one way, I guess.). I was really proud of the fact that I found a two liter of pop for 29 cents. This time we made our way to a bar we frequently went to called Can-Can. It’s a basement bar that’s always full of smoke and music and dancing and creepy Spanish men. The girls I was with made friends with an Argentinean who kept giving them (and me by the distributive property of shot giving) shots. I don’t even think he worked there but he took them behind the bar and gave them soooo much alcohol. Then Laura and I did something completely awesome that I can’t tell you about. It was a good night until my nose started bleeding suddenly. No one in the bar had napkins or tissues, the bathroom was out of toilet paper, and I was gushing everywhere. The only thing I could find was…a tampon. I used it. Does that really surprise anyone?

My family was leaving that morning for vacation at around 530am. I wanted to eat breakfast with them before they left. It was about 545 and I was in the process of giving someone a piggy back ride home. I ended up dropping them and sprinting home. Oh, man. I know some of you in IC know what it means when you see someone running at night. Siiigh. I got home in time to say goodbye and everything. I’m kinda sad that I’m just now getting really comfortable with my family and good enough at Spanish that I feel like I can connect with them and base our relationship on something other than the fact that we share a house. For example, my sister hates Hannah Montana. I don’t know if she realized how happy this made me. Her, her friend, and my mom all commented on how much better I am at Spanish. Again, I don’t know if they realized how happy this made me.

Anyway, the real interesting thing happened the next morning. I woke up in an remarkable situation, which I don’t feel comfortable sharing via internet. It’s a good story, though, if you want to hear it in person.

This morning I climbed out my window and up to the roof of our building to watch the sunrise. I’ve been wanting to do it since I first got here, so I finally did.


Funny things I’ve learned in Spain:
The word for corkscrew is ‘sacacorchos,’ which I learned after asking the store worker “¿Dónde están las cosas para sacar corchos?” That’s about the same as saying “Where are those things for screwing corks?” She answered, “…..¿Un sacacorchos?” “….a corkscrew?” Me, “Eeeh, sí.”

I get much better at Spanish as a botellón goes on.

Laying in the grass with a friend is great no matter which hemisphere you’re in, especially when surrounded by rose bushes. Greatness.

My shadow looks good.

The roads are like sidewalks for cars.

You only live once apparently sums up my personality, at least that’s what I was told. Meow.

“Yeah, that’s how it starts, Justin, then next thing you know you’re kidnapping children.”

Spanish locks are confusing. I wanted to go out the other night. I couldn’t figure out how to open the door, so I stayed in.

My little sister is a figure roller-skater, a pretty good artist, wants to be a vet, hates her English class, and has more patience for me than anyone. I think I’m bad luck for her, though, because two of her birds and a kitten died while I was there. Her Guinea pig was fine though.

how it flies

I've been back in the country for a month already. Time seems to go faster when you're around things that you are used to...then again, it doesn't exactly slow down while adventuring around a foreign country either.

I've got two more blog posts from Spain yet to be published. Once there's a lull in my activities, especially the weekend eating marching band, I'll try to proofread and expand my random thought fragments into some sort of descernable set of sentences. Fear not. Same goes for the pictures that need to be put on Facebook. I've gotten through editing a little over half of the 1500 pictures I took with my sisters. Yipes! I'm not publishing them all. Who would look at them?

Until then, it's school as usual. This whole triple majoring thing may catch up to me this semester. Vamos a ver.