Many updates

Cherry blossom trees are turning pink, green leaves are appearing on trees, people are flocking to Plaza de España to suntan, and I am enjoying not wearing a wool coat to school anymore. Ah yes, spring has arrived to Madrid.

Since the sunshine has been calling me to enjoy time outdoors, I've been neglecting updating here for a bit. To remedy that, I'm writing a digest of brief updates on mi vida.

** I went on a trip to Amsterdam two weeks ago. The weather was a bit cloudy, but the city itself is really beautiful and a bit funky. After visiting the Van Gogh museum (and seeing "Starry Night" up close!) and Anne Frank's home, there wasn't much to do outside of the stereotypical coffee shops and partying. Although I did have Dutch pancakes, which were a delicious. They reminded me of an oversized crepe laid out instead of being folded up.



While in Holland, my 3 friends and I rented Dutch bicycles to take a ride outside of Amsterdam and find the scenic traditional Dutch windmills. As expected, the ride was somewhat of an adventure in itself, involving taking our bikes on 3 ferries, getting lost in the quiet and pretty Amsterdam suburbs, becoming an expert at "pedal and click" photography, and finding the Mecca of graffiti artists underneath a large highway. Plus, I was left with the best souvenir of all: A sore butt for 2 days.




** My good friend Angela from Northwestern came to visit! We spent the weekend exploring Madrid, visiting the Prado and the Reina Sofia, and having cheese and chorizo sandwiches at Retiro, Madrid's version of Central Park. We went to a new bar, made some new friends, and discovered the gem that is "calimocho," a very Spanish drink consisting of red wine and Coca Cola. We had the most fantastic tacos at this little Mexican chain restaurant, and shared stories about our experiences in Spain and our frustrations here. It was really fantastic to see her again and hear about what other parts of Spain are like from someone who has a perspective much closer to mine.

** The weekend ended on somewhat of a downer, when my camera was pick pocketed from my purse during our "Gran Noche Madrileña" on early Sunday morning. A blond Spanish girl came up to me and one of our new French friends asking for directions. After a bit, I heard the familiar jingle of my keys and looked down to find her putting them in her coat pocket. I asked her to empty her pockets, ended up sticking my hand in it, and getting my keys back. After checking to make sure my wallet, cell phone, and bus pass were still in my purse, I gave her a piece of my mind and went about my way, satisfied with myself for not becoming a victim. About an hour later, as I reached into my purse to take a photo of Angela and myself, my pride was shot when I realized the Spanish [expletive] had taken my camera. So much for my dignity -- and more importantly, my camera. I guess now I will be remembering my last few months in Europe through the photos of my fellow traveling buddies.

** On Monday, the principal at my school asked me if I planned on returning to the school next year. She chose to do it in front of the entire staff during our lunch hour, at the table where the staff sits to have a buffet-style lunch together. As they all grew quiet to listen to my answer, I had to find the most diplomatic way to tell them that I'd rather eat rotten fish that's been sitting out for 3 months than return. I was rather flustered, and frankly found the situation rather awkward. They were less than happy, but I'm looking out for Numero Uno here, and that would be me. It's a dog-eat-dog world, right? To me, it was just another example of cultural differences. I was thinking of turning her down in her office, where I could tell her. And her alone. Instead, I told her as other teachers stuffed calamari stew in their mouths.

** I'm heading to Dublin this weekend and rather excited about it. I keep meaning to buy a raincoat or at least water-resistant jacket, but I haven't yet. It seems as though every time I visit somewhere, it starts raining or the weather is at least drizzly. Welcome to Europe!

Day 1: Arriving in Madrid

After a 14-hour flight from Denver to Madrid (with layovers in Chicago and Toronto), it was nice to feel my butt again( I mean, I did spent a day and a half meandering about different airports) Saturday morning.

Madrid's Barajas Airport was a lot like the Guadalajara Airport in Mexico -- the same long lines for a passport stamp at the airport. I picked up my bags, met my two friends Meagan and Amy (whom I'll be sharing many a Spanish adventure with), and we hopped on the Metro to look at the apartment where the three of us will be living.

The apartment is actually a roomshare on the northern outskirts of the Chamberi neighborhood, located on the northern end of Madrid. Six separate rooms with a lock-and-key share a kitchen and bathroom -- it's partly dorm, partly apartment. In truth, it reminds me a lot of the Tit, the apartment I lived in with six great friends during my senior year of college. This new place has the same dingy, well-used feeling the Tit has, with an added bonus: the permanent smell of cigarette smoke. We spent most of the afternoon trying to find ATMs that would allow us to take out enough money to cover the first months' rent plus a fianza, a deposit on the apartment which is also the same as a month's rent. Amy and I had trouble taking out the needed amounts ($440 euro for me, or about $650 USD), so the three of us set out (sans the needed amount of money) for the apartment on Rios Rosas street, to meet Luis, the landlord.

Luis the Argentine, a 50-something year old man with gray hair, was a bit peeved about having waited nearly an hour before our arrival (Amy had called from the airport to tell him we were on our way over, but we were sidetracked by our financial woes). After more waiting as he went to see another potential customer, we were able to secure our rooms. Only two minor problems existed:
1) The kitchen has a minor cockroach problem, minor of course being a relative term. Several teeny-weeny cockroaches would peak out from under the sink, behind the TV (yes, our only TV lives in the kitchen), or at night, from around the light switch. Luis promised to take care of this roach problem by calling an exterminator first thing Monday morning.
2) My assigned room, No. 2, is currently inhabited by a 6'6" tall basketball journalist named Eusebi. Until then, Meagan and I will spending the next three weeks re-living our sophomore year of college as roommates. In all honesty, the room we are currently sharing is probably bigger than the space we shared living together in 1835 Hinman two years ago. Sharing a room isn't a problem, really; more like a minor glitch. I just feel too lazy to unpack my things and get comfortable if I'm going to be moving two rooms over in a few days.

The three of us set out to find sheets and possibly, new pillows for our beds. We took the Metro again to La Corte Ingles, an everything store I remembered my friend Aliza telling us about (gra-thi-as ali-tha!). We asked the woman helping us there to point us to whatever was cheapest, a set of 50/50 cotton/polyester sheets which really weren't all that cheap. But they're getting the job done.

The most vivid memory I have of day 1 is the immense feeling of tiredness. Between my lack of sleep on the flight (too many good movies to watch), fighting with my body to realize we're functioning 8 hours ahead now, and the potpourri of mixed emotions, hitting the sack (which feels more like a cot) never felt better.