This has been my last weekend in Santander. Joder, the time has really flown by. I didn't believe it when I was told at the beginning the this trip would go really fast, but it's true. Yet at the same time, I feel as if I have been in Santander forever. It's almost like I can't remember what it's not like to live with my Spanish family, to have to speak Spanish just to get by, and to live in this overcrowded clusterfuck of a city.
I'm suprised at just how acquainted I've become with Santander, which makes me glad that I decided to stick around most weekends rather than do the touristy thing and travel around. A lot of people in my program traveled almost every weekend to places around Spain and Europe, and they wound up tired, stressed, and broke. Travel just stresses me out, and I absolutely hate feeling like a tourist, wandering around a city when I don't know where anything is, just seeing the superficial sites. I'm glad I stuck around Santander, and really got the feel of living in one place and becoming emmersed in the culture rather than being a tourist and only catching the superficial shell of a bunch of places. I think I gained a lot from it. I got to go to Salseton and Funky hot dance classes, and explore all around the city, and go to musuems and out at night. It's been a good 10 weeks.
At the same time, I'm not looking forward to coming home and having everyone telling me how much fun I must have had, and what a big party my study abroad experience was. I would say, on a whole, this trip was more work than it was fun. I know some people have studied abroad and it was a haze of binge drinking, misbehavior, and merry making, but that's not what my trip has been. Its been incredibly valuable for other reasons, in terms of how much I've learned and how much I've grown up, and I wouldn't trade that for anything, but if I wanted to have fun and party I would have stayed in Corvallis, with my cat, horses, coffee shops, and college bars. So if I come home and someone asks me about how much fun and crazy times I've had, don't be suprised to see me roll my eyes. I would call this an educational experience, granted one that I think everyone needs.
On to the actual fun part. On Friday I went to another dance class, this one was called "Funky Hot" dance, which is basically hip hop. We learned a routine to a Britney Spears song, and it was sooo much fun. After the class two friends of mine and I wanted to keep dancing and not forget the routine, so we went to a park by the bay at 11 o'clock at night and danced on a bridge for 30 minutes in the dark. Only in Santander...
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Hi gang... I've been super busy lately, with finals, speeches, papers, and a big trip to Segovia, Toledo and Burgos.
Toledo: My favorite city in Spain so far. It pretty much hasn´t changed since medieval times. The streets are all old cobblestones, and are barely wide enough to fit one car, although the cars go whizzing through them. It still has the old Roman wall around it, and it's sort of like a labyrinth, with a million little alleys that lead nowhere. Just my kind of city. I was hanging out with some people that were too nervous about getting lose to go too far, so we said screw it and peaced out, and had a great afternoon. While I was there I finally confirmed what I'd always expected- I have an awesome sense of direction. I led Becky and I across the city and back again, without getting lost once. Which is a big achievement in Toledo. Not that I care about getting lost. Sometimes it's fun to get lost.
The most fun of the trip was going back to the hotel in Segovia that night. Our table drank three bottles of wine, and flirted with a water to get a fourth. We definately got judged by some of the other people, but seriously, fuck them. Some people need to learn how to cut loose and live. There's nothing wrong with drinking four glasses of wine and building a pillow fort. Yes, we built an awesome pillow for in the hall of the hotel. Everyone who wanted to go through had to crawl through our fort, which we named Fort America. Then we all went inside it and told ghost stories.
Burgos: We didn't spend too much time in Burgos. We went to the massive cathedral, and yes, it was really beautiful and neat and blah blah blah, I am kind of cathedraled out. Every two horse town in Spain has some fascinating church or catheral or collegiate with an interesting history and awe inspiring architecure, but at this point I would get more excited over a good coffee shop. We did see the building where Christopher Colombues met the Los Reyes Catololicos after returning from America. Then we had a disgusting lunch chock full of chorizo and veal. What is it with Spainards and eating babies?
Anyways, I have come to the conclusion that after I get home I will NEVER force myself to eat something that I don't feel like eating. 10 weeks of choking down food that I hate when I don't want to eat it will forever change my opinions on eating what is on my plate. It's not healthy to eat when you're not hungry. This isn't the Great Depression. It'll just make you fat and give you high cholesterol. So as soon as I get home I am eating only WHAT I want, WHEN I want. Sorry mom! No pork chops and steak for me, ever. I don't think I've written it here, but I got the whole "You should finish what is on your plate because there are starving kids in Africa" lecture from Maria a week or so ago. Um, I think I am a little too old for that, by like 15 years. PLus what I didn't eat was the fatty disgusting boney part of a piece of salmon, the skin, and the bones. If the starving kids want it so bad she can pack it up in a box and ship it to them.
I miss American music. Sure they play some American music...but old (2 years or more) pop crap...Lots of Fergie and Rihanna (Umbrella, ella ella, eh, eh). Bleck. I can't wait to be home, in my car, rocking out to some heavy metal. I can't wait to go home and buy lots of music. I can't get any here. The cds are ridiculously expensive (Like 20 EUROS for a CD that would be like $12 US dollars at home). And I never got labtop computer hooked up to wireless, so I can't get onto Itunes. Laaaame. I am so deprived.
Well, enough of my whining. In summation, Toledo: cool, wine: cooler. Spain: still not as great at the USA. And I come home in 2 weeks. Booyah!
About my trip:
Segovia: There's an ancient roman aqueduct, which is neat, and a big cathedral, and a sweet ass castle that comes complete with a moat. We got to explore the castle, which had all kinds of armor and swords and cannons. I want to live in a castle someday...or maybe just a house with a moat. Before we went on a tour we had a disgusting lunch of green beans in tomato sauce and an entire leg-o-lamb. Bleck. I drank two glasses of wine to choke some of the crap food down, and then I realized that it was Spanish uber-table wine, with a 15% alcohol content. Whoops, I guess I was a little schnockered on the tour. It made everything much more interesting, even though I had to pee like seabiscuit. But I didn't hice pis en la calle. it was way too light and open for that.Toledo: My favorite city in Spain so far. It pretty much hasn´t changed since medieval times. The streets are all old cobblestones, and are barely wide enough to fit one car, although the cars go whizzing through them. It still has the old Roman wall around it, and it's sort of like a labyrinth, with a million little alleys that lead nowhere. Just my kind of city. I was hanging out with some people that were too nervous about getting lose to go too far, so we said screw it and peaced out, and had a great afternoon. While I was there I finally confirmed what I'd always expected- I have an awesome sense of direction. I led Becky and I across the city and back again, without getting lost once. Which is a big achievement in Toledo. Not that I care about getting lost. Sometimes it's fun to get lost.
The most fun of the trip was going back to the hotel in Segovia that night. Our table drank three bottles of wine, and flirted with a water to get a fourth. We definately got judged by some of the other people, but seriously, fuck them. Some people need to learn how to cut loose and live. There's nothing wrong with drinking four glasses of wine and building a pillow fort. Yes, we built an awesome pillow for in the hall of the hotel. Everyone who wanted to go through had to crawl through our fort, which we named Fort America. Then we all went inside it and told ghost stories.
Burgos: We didn't spend too much time in Burgos. We went to the massive cathedral, and yes, it was really beautiful and neat and blah blah blah, I am kind of cathedraled out. Every two horse town in Spain has some fascinating church or catheral or collegiate with an interesting history and awe inspiring architecure, but at this point I would get more excited over a good coffee shop. We did see the building where Christopher Colombues met the Los Reyes Catololicos after returning from America. Then we had a disgusting lunch chock full of chorizo and veal. What is it with Spainards and eating babies?
Anyways, I have come to the conclusion that after I get home I will NEVER force myself to eat something that I don't feel like eating. 10 weeks of choking down food that I hate when I don't want to eat it will forever change my opinions on eating what is on my plate. It's not healthy to eat when you're not hungry. This isn't the Great Depression. It'll just make you fat and give you high cholesterol. So as soon as I get home I am eating only WHAT I want, WHEN I want. Sorry mom! No pork chops and steak for me, ever. I don't think I've written it here, but I got the whole "You should finish what is on your plate because there are starving kids in Africa" lecture from Maria a week or so ago. Um, I think I am a little too old for that, by like 15 years. PLus what I didn't eat was the fatty disgusting boney part of a piece of salmon, the skin, and the bones. If the starving kids want it so bad she can pack it up in a box and ship it to them.
I miss American music. Sure they play some American music...but old (2 years or more) pop crap...Lots of Fergie and Rihanna (Umbrella, ella ella, eh, eh). Bleck. I can't wait to be home, in my car, rocking out to some heavy metal. I can't wait to go home and buy lots of music. I can't get any here. The cds are ridiculously expensive (Like 20 EUROS for a CD that would be like $12 US dollars at home). And I never got labtop computer hooked up to wireless, so I can't get onto Itunes. Laaaame. I am so deprived.
Well, enough of my whining. In summation, Toledo: cool, wine: cooler. Spain: still not as great at the USA. And I come home in 2 weeks. Booyah!
Monday, November 10, 2008
Buen fin de semana
Hola a todos.
Friday night I went to a Salsaton class, which is a mex of salsa and reggaeton dancing...shit, it was hard! The instructor, Marta, was a beast. And by beast I mean an amazing dancer. When she did the routine it looking awesome. When I did it, not so much. But I stuck out the hour and a half class, which is more than I can say for some other lazy asses, and it was fun to learn some (sorta) Spanish dancing, completely in Spanish. Afterwards I went out and drank too many mojitos, but whatever. I haven't had a mojito in forever, and I really wanted one.
Saturday I went to Bilbao, which is the capital city of Basque Country. It really has a different feel from the rest of Spain. The architecture of quite different, and every sign is in both Spanish and Basque (Euskera), which is the single most complicated language ever. It's actually not related to any known language, so there's not any cognates to clue you in. When I saw basque writing my brain processed it as letter vomit. We did some shopping and exploring around Bilbao and eventually found the Guggenheim Museum.
The musuem was amazing. The building is craaazy, and actually my favorite part of the whole museum. There's no way to explain it, it's like something out of a crazy, LSD-induced dream. Frank Gehry is a genius. In a way it almost overshadows the art within it, it is that awesome. The museum also has an exhibit by Richard Serra called The Matter of Time which is a giant installation of steel scultures that you could walk through. I loved wandering through the huge steel spirales. There was also a big exhibit of Cy Twombly, which was mainly minimalist art. To put it plainly, minimalism isn't my cup of tea. Sure, it's considered art, but I don't really value it too highly if a Kindgartner could do it. Like crayon scribbles on a canvas, or two cardboard tubes glued together and painted white. Really Guggenheim? You're going to put that on the first floor and make me go up to the third to see the Velazquez painting?
Someday I am going to poop on a canvas and call it art.
Friday night I went to a Salsaton class, which is a mex of salsa and reggaeton dancing...shit, it was hard! The instructor, Marta, was a beast. And by beast I mean an amazing dancer. When she did the routine it looking awesome. When I did it, not so much. But I stuck out the hour and a half class, which is more than I can say for some other lazy asses, and it was fun to learn some (sorta) Spanish dancing, completely in Spanish. Afterwards I went out and drank too many mojitos, but whatever. I haven't had a mojito in forever, and I really wanted one.
Saturday I went to Bilbao, which is the capital city of Basque Country. It really has a different feel from the rest of Spain. The architecture of quite different, and every sign is in both Spanish and Basque (Euskera), which is the single most complicated language ever. It's actually not related to any known language, so there's not any cognates to clue you in. When I saw basque writing my brain processed it as letter vomit. We did some shopping and exploring around Bilbao and eventually found the Guggenheim Museum.
The musuem was amazing. The building is craaazy, and actually my favorite part of the whole museum. There's no way to explain it, it's like something out of a crazy, LSD-induced dream. Frank Gehry is a genius. In a way it almost overshadows the art within it, it is that awesome. The museum also has an exhibit by Richard Serra called The Matter of Time which is a giant installation of steel scultures that you could walk through. I loved wandering through the huge steel spirales. There was also a big exhibit of Cy Twombly, which was mainly minimalist art. To put it plainly, minimalism isn't my cup of tea. Sure, it's considered art, but I don't really value it too highly if a Kindgartner could do it. Like crayon scribbles on a canvas, or two cardboard tubes glued together and painted white. Really Guggenheim? You're going to put that on the first floor and make me go up to the third to see the Velazquez painting?
Someday I am going to poop on a canvas and call it art.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I feel very deprived from a lot of things. A lot of American things. American music, TV, food, people, english...just everything that I take for granted but feel very lost without. I think this trip is teaching me just how much I enjoy the US, Oregon, Corvallis, etc. And when I have a bad day, it's not like I can do the things that usually cheer me up, like go riding, or pet Lilly, or get multiple coffee drinks. Yeah, I have been known to get coffee 2 times a day when I am really stressed. Whatevs.
On a postive note me and a group of OSU kids, and one of our professors played Sardines (reverse hide and go seek) in the streets of Santander. For those of you who don't know, Sardines is where one person hides and the rest look for them. When you find them, you hide with them until everyone is hiding with you. We got the weirdest looks from some Spainards, who probably didn't understand why there were 12 people crammed into a single door frame, giggling like crazy and speaking in English. Oh well. It's not like I am not use to getting weird stares from Spanish people. That happens all the time. At least I feel like we deserve when we are all huddled in a smelly little corner by the mercado, with our jackets over our face so that no one will know it´s us and find us.
On a postive note me and a group of OSU kids, and one of our professors played Sardines (reverse hide and go seek) in the streets of Santander. For those of you who don't know, Sardines is where one person hides and the rest look for them. When you find them, you hide with them until everyone is hiding with you. We got the weirdest looks from some Spainards, who probably didn't understand why there were 12 people crammed into a single door frame, giggling like crazy and speaking in English. Oh well. It's not like I am not use to getting weird stares from Spanish people. That happens all the time. At least I feel like we deserve when we are all huddled in a smelly little corner by the mercado, with our jackets over our face so that no one will know it´s us and find us.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
La Eleción
I will be extremely glad when the elections are over. Not because I particularly want to know the results. I'm fairly confident that they won't be to my liking, but such is politics. I know how to lose gracefully, and I haven't put my heart and soul into any campaigns like I did in '06. No, I want this elections to be over because I am so sick of hearing what Europeans think about American politics. They can't vote, so why would I care about what they think?
I've touched on this before, but everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY here has an opinion about US politics, and who they want to win the election. Which I understand, because hey, America is the best ever, but at the same time I don't, because I honestly don't give a crap about who becomes the new British PM, or whether Zapatero wins relection here in March. Americans have the reputation of being ego-centric...having lived abroad, my opinion is now: So what? If we are ego-centric, that's because the entire world cares so much about us. If the rest of the world wants us to think about ourselves less, then they should think about us less.
I don't even like talking about domestic politics at home because the majority of people are uneducated tard farmers who just go on hearsay and generalizations and treat them like facts. But foreigners who don't really understand the American political system are even worse. Yesterday I watched on the news some special about how hut-dwelling pgymies of Kenya (or whatever they are) like Obama. As if I give a rat's ass about the political leanings of hut-dwelling Kenyan pgymies. Or every Spanish cab driver that's driven me home at 3 in the morning...or every single person that I meet in a bar that finds out I'm an American. Let's repeat this. I. Don't. Care. If you can't vote, I couldn´t care less. Europeans seem to have the misconception that Americans want to hear their stupid opinions about our own elections...Sorry Europe, but you don't matter. Go play with your Euros and leave me the hell alone.
PS. African pgymies have recieved a shit ton of foreign aid from the Bush administration...they should take that free money and STFU.
I've touched on this before, but everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY here has an opinion about US politics, and who they want to win the election. Which I understand, because hey, America is the best ever, but at the same time I don't, because I honestly don't give a crap about who becomes the new British PM, or whether Zapatero wins relection here in March. Americans have the reputation of being ego-centric...having lived abroad, my opinion is now: So what? If we are ego-centric, that's because the entire world cares so much about us. If the rest of the world wants us to think about ourselves less, then they should think about us less.
I don't even like talking about domestic politics at home because the majority of people are uneducated tard farmers who just go on hearsay and generalizations and treat them like facts. But foreigners who don't really understand the American political system are even worse. Yesterday I watched on the news some special about how hut-dwelling pgymies of Kenya (or whatever they are) like Obama. As if I give a rat's ass about the political leanings of hut-dwelling Kenyan pgymies. Or every Spanish cab driver that's driven me home at 3 in the morning...or every single person that I meet in a bar that finds out I'm an American. Let's repeat this. I. Don't. Care. If you can't vote, I couldn´t care less. Europeans seem to have the misconception that Americans want to hear their stupid opinions about our own elections...Sorry Europe, but you don't matter. Go play with your Euros and leave me the hell alone.
PS. African pgymies have recieved a shit ton of foreign aid from the Bush administration...they should take that free money and STFU.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Que pasó...
On Thursday the ETA set off a car bomb in a University in Pamplona. I don’t think anyone died, but last I heard 17 people were injured. You would think that being so near to Basque country makes me hyper-aware of the ETA and all the possible dangers associated with it, but…no? Really Santander feels so safe, and so isolated that I haven’t really spared the ETA a single thought this entire trip. Maybe if I was in a big city, like Madrid or Barcelona I would be nervous, but Santander is very safe. By all means maybe I should be worried. The ETA has targeted public transport and universities, two things I frequent. But really, are we ever safe? Can I claim to be safer in Corvallis when things like the shooting at Georgia Tech and the abduction of Brooke Wilberger from Corvallis prove that, no, we’re not safe. We only think we’re safe until the worst thing possible happens, then we know for sure that we were never safe. So, just fyi, I feel real safe! PS if the ETA was gonna blow shit up, they sure as heck wouldn’t do it in Santander…Santander is a tiny little tourist town as far as Spaniards are concerned.
I talked to my dad on Friday, and he told me that my mom wanted to bring me home right away…And surprising enough, my immediate gut-reaction was “No way, I want to stay!” Which suprised me at first, because at first I was counting the days until I get to come home and drink Starbucks and play with my cat. But you can't deny an immediate gut reaction, and that's what I got when I thought about coming home halfway through. I'm glad that I am here, and I'm even more glad that I want to be here.
There’s tons of little Confeterias around town that sell frutas secas(gummy candy). I got some on my way home from church…and ate way too much. Now I feel sick. Tonteria, no? Oh yeah, I went to church. It was very suprisingly similar to regular church. It was an evangelical church, so not too different. Not catholic mass. I have no desire to go to Catholic Mass. I don't understand what's going on when the service is in English, much less in Spanish. Anyways, church was fun. They sang some of the same songs we sing at Trinity, only in Spanish (dur). Another thing that is similar about going to Spanish church- I spent the entire sermon day dreaming. Hey, at least I have an excuse this time. I didn't really understand. When I daydream during church at home it is because I am a bad lutheran/ i´m not sitting by my friends and can't pass notes.
I stepped in my first pile of mierda de perro español (Spanish dog shit). I feel like an authentic Spainaird.
I talked to my dad on Friday, and he told me that my mom wanted to bring me home right away…And surprising enough, my immediate gut-reaction was “No way, I want to stay!” Which suprised me at first, because at first I was counting the days until I get to come home and drink Starbucks and play with my cat. But you can't deny an immediate gut reaction, and that's what I got when I thought about coming home halfway through. I'm glad that I am here, and I'm even more glad that I want to be here.
There’s tons of little Confeterias around town that sell frutas secas(gummy candy). I got some on my way home from church…and ate way too much. Now I feel sick. Tonteria, no? Oh yeah, I went to church. It was very suprisingly similar to regular church. It was an evangelical church, so not too different. Not catholic mass. I have no desire to go to Catholic Mass. I don't understand what's going on when the service is in English, much less in Spanish. Anyways, church was fun. They sang some of the same songs we sing at Trinity, only in Spanish (dur). Another thing that is similar about going to Spanish church- I spent the entire sermon day dreaming. Hey, at least I have an excuse this time. I didn't really understand. When I daydream during church at home it is because I am a bad lutheran/ i´m not sitting by my friends and can't pass notes.
I stepped in my first pile of mierda de perro español (Spanish dog shit). I feel like an authentic Spainaird.
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