Why I love Southern Spain

Because it's December 23rd and I'm sitting out basking in the sun on my patio.

Note the green grass in the background, that the leaves are still on the tree, and that I am wearing a tank top. 

While listening to this.

Life is good. 

:)

The Time I Tripped Up the Stairs

Thank you to friend and fellow blogger, Christine, for making light of the terrible night at I just had. "At least this will make a great blog post!" Why yes, yes it will :)


Necessary background info: I am clumsy. (And yes, that needed giant font.) I trip over the front of my shoes almost daily, and if you and I take a 15 minute walk and I make it the whole way without stumbling once, well then I deserve a pat on the back. And that's fine. I'm used to it. But this time, this was a whole 'nother level. I honestly wish I had just fallen down the stairs. At least that's a more normal way to hurt yourself.

My night started off innocently enough. I was running late for a private class. The buzzer for their apartment was broken, so I had to call the mom to be let in. We were still on the phone as I walked up to the elevator, and rather than wait the few seconds it would take to say bye and jump on the elevator, I decided to just use the stairs for once. Terrible decision.

The light bulb had apparently burned out in the stair well. So not only could I not see anything, but I was on the phone not paying attention, and I was late. So I was running. Which meant that when I missed the step before the landing and my foot caught it at just the right angle, I went flying into the wall ahead of me with all the force I had been using to run up the steps. 

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Cristina, the kids' mom, heard the crash. And rushed down the steps to find me sprawled across the landing completely disoriented, not caring one little bit that I was crying like a baby. Not one of my finer entrances. 

Where was this sign when I needed it???
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As I got up I was shaking uncontrollably and (naturally) had a pounding headache. The smart thing to do would have been to cancel classes. But no. The poor-wanna-be-world-traveler in me said "20euro?  Sold!" And I stayed.
I spent that hour trying to hide the tears of pain that were streaming down my face, unsuccessfully I might add, because the 8 year old girl kept giving me curious looks and asking if I was alright.

After class ended I went to the pharmacy and tried to ask for an ice pack, but whatever came out of my mouth was clearly not that, because the pharmacist looked extremely confused. And then extremely worried as I burst out crying.

Let me just say, it is 10miliontimesharder to speak a second language when you are in pain. Or at least, it was for me. I couldn't think straight and finally I resorted to crying hysterically and mumbling something about how I had fallen on the stairs and my knees were huge (I didn't know the word for swollen).
Two seconds later the pharmacist was demanding that a taxi be sent to the pharmacy so I could be taken to the hospital. She also asked me in a very concerned voice if I lived alone (she nodded satisfied when I said I had roommates) and told me that if I needed anything tomorrow that I had to come back and see her. (She also spoke English. Huge plus.)

The taxi driver dropped me off at the main entrance instead of in front of urgent care (which was my fault because I didn't understand his question when he asked me). Oops. The next 10 minutes could have been from a movie. Tears streaming down my face, walking dazed through the maze of halls trying to find someone who would take pity on me and point me to the check-in desk. (I swear I am not over-dramatizing this, it was bad.)


3 hours, 2 x-rays, and a lot of embarrassing "Spanish? Yes of course I speak it...wait uh...English please" moments later I was free to leave, happy knowing that at least I didn't have a concussion. Which would have been entirely possible considering the force with which I hit that wall.


Final injury count? 2 swollen knees, bruise on right rip, bruise on upper right jaw bone (this makes chewing difficult), bump on the right side of my head, and a sore neck. Thank god its only bruising and swelling, but did I really have to do this 5 days before Christmas? And did I really have to injure both knees? Seriously?

But at least I didn't do this....
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Next day update: The mom of the kids just called to check up on me and make sure that I was okay :)

This needs to be documented...

Singing along to Christmas carols and hanging out with a cute (when he wants to be) 5 year old who actually wants to learn English for once can really boost your mood. 

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And considering that last week I kind of wanted to wring his neck after I left class, I'd say things are looking up. Arguing with a 5 year old, (in his native, but my 2nd language), was not one of my finer moments. 

Today however, he actually tripped over his feet trying to stand in front of the room in time for Simon Says. Miguel, I don't know what happened to you between last Wednesday and today, but I like it. So please don't change!

The Spanish Lunch Experience

Yesterday, after 3 months of living in Spain, I had my first fully Spanish meal. And when I say 'fully Spanish' I mean that it lasted for 4 hours. And not just 4 hours of sitting at the table after a good meal and enjoying the company, but 4 hours of appetizerx5-entreé-desert-entreé-desert-desert-coffee-after dinner liquor. So I am not embarrassed to say that after this I turned down the chance to go to a bar with my co-workers and instead went home and fell asleep at 9.

Now that I've tried it once I can honestly say I'd like to wait a year or two before ever attempting to eat that much food again.

After school ended on Thursday all the teachers changed out of their work clothes and into dressy clothes. Then a party-bus-looking-school-bus picked all 38 of us up and took us to a culinary school in San Roque. (Meal time for us meant exam time for all the students who were studying to be chefs, waiters, etc. It was really cool!)

Fully enjoying a beer at my first ever work-related function.

Appetizer #1 - jamón ibérico, chorizo, and an unknown meat product

Appetizer #2 - fish noodle pasta salad (actually it was imitation fish noodles since the real fish is costs 200e/kilo)

Appetizer #3 - huevos rotos con chistora ('broken' eggs over potatoes with sausage)

Rosa (French teacher), Patricia (bilingual coordinator), and Eli and I

There were 2 more appetizers, croquettes and some interesting fish/shrimp spread stuffed in a red pepper.

Entreé #1 - cod with choco, cuttlefish* (see below)

All the teachers at my school! It never looks like this many when I run into them in the teachers lounge.

Desert #1 - Passion fruit sorbet topped with some sort of melted sugar, to cleanse the palate for the next round. By this point I was already comfortably full.

Entreé #2 - some unidentified meat. Delicious though.

Desert #2 - turrón topped with 2 candied grapes, decorated with a chocolate design, and a couple rasberries and blueberries. All sitting in a bowl of cava, a type of champagne. While eating the candied grapes Eli and I shared a moment, and then burst out laughing at the realization that we were eating the most delicious meal we had had thus far, and were now topping it off with candied grapes. All we needed was a palm tree in the back ground and a toga.

Desert #3 isn't pictured, but basically it was a plate of traditional cookies. A plate meant for 5 or 6 people. And Eli and I ate almost all of it. Come on though, we had to try everything!

Topping of this incredible meal was beer, red wine (didn't touch that though), kalimoxo, water, and several glasses of white wine. The waiter kept having to come over and refill my glass. Oops.

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good! But I felt sick by the time I was done eating, my stomach is not meant to hold that much deliciousness at once, especially not that many cookies and glasses of wine. It was a great time though, the director of our school kept shouting across the table to make sure we knew what everything on the menu was, and to make sure we liked everything and were having a good time. (I say shouting because the table was really wide and it's a little hard to talk over 35 other Spaniards.)
The lunch really made me appreciate the people I work with, and that Eli and I are both working at the same school. Shout out to Eli :) I'm finally starting to feel like I have a place and a responsibility at the school, like I actually belong. Which is such a good feeling.

*cuttlefish - This is a cuttlefish, if you were wondering. Awwwwwwwwww! Cute cuttlefish :)

Algeciras Christmas Light Show

Oh Spain, you never fail to amuse me.

Tonight I went to the city center to check out a light show at the city hall. I got there at 9:50, and it was supposed to start at 10. There were a couple handfuls of people there, and then right around 9:55, the rest of the town showed up. Which, is actually kind of impressive for Spaniards, to show up anywhere 5 minutes early.


Xabi and Christine came with high expectations of 3-D images displayed up on the building set to music. Or something like that. They said the videos they found online where awesome. I, however, came with absolutely zero expectations. Which was definitely for the best.

First off, right at 10pm a message was put up on the projector saying that due to technical difficulties the show would be delayed until 10:30. (We found out that the "technical difficulties" was actually that the guy in charge of the projector lived in Tarifa and was sleeping.) The 'technical difficulty' finally showed up around 10:35 and managed to get the show rolling. 

The show was in 3-D and was more of a haphazard arrangement of sound clips set to random 3-D designs and images portrayed on the building. They had a drawing of the building on the projection which they lined up with the building, and then when they hit play the projected image would do things like pop out from the original building or turn 360 or change colors. It was kind of cool.
And I can't forget to mention the fake snow aka bubbles that were being shot out of snow machines on the top of the building. Or the green smoke that was shot out twice on top of the projector. (The green smoke literally had nothing to do with any of the show.)

If my description of the night leaves you a little confused, then you know how I felt walking away from that show. It lasted 4 minutes, at which point they hit repeat. "Maybe if we're lucky they'll repeat it a 3rd time!" "Emma! Be careful what you say!"
And then repeated it a 3rd time.
"Oops."


All in all though, even with all its shortcomings and mistakes (the 45 minute late start probably would have gotten somebody fired in the U.S.) it was a great experience and a true representation of Spanish culture. I'm glad I went and got to experience it.

This is what Christine and Xabi saw, and then called me excitedly to say there was going to be a 3-D video projection at the Town Hall. 

"Tell me little lies baby..."

Sometimes its just no fun to be the only native English speaker in a class. It's not nearly as fun to laugh at people's mistakes when you're the only one who realizes it was a mistake.
For example:

• One of my students was talking about her cousin and she said "My cousin is 10 years old. I love her very much, but she is very loose." She thought about that for a second and then wrote on the board 'loose=floja'. My immediate reaction, being a native speaker and knowing slang, was 'OH GOD!! She can't be serious....can she?' The teacher didn't help my thought process when she told the student that that wasn't right, because 'loose' meant 'losing clothes'. Dear god. Finally she got it right and said loose meant 'baggy', and what the student meant to say was 'lazy'. It had been a scary few minutes for me. 

• Then the next girl got up to speak, but I can't tell you what she talked about because her shirt was distracting me. It said in big glittery silver cursive letters, "tell me little lies baby...". I don't even know what to think about that. 

Another observation I made is how obsessed Spaniards are with color-coordinating. Sometimes they can pull it off and look effortlessly classy, but sometimes, it's an epic fail.

• Like the girl today wearing purple shoes, purple pants, purple shirt, and gray zipup sweatshirt with purple stars. TOO MUCH PURPLE!

• My favorite color-coordination mishap is when women think its okay to wear an entire outfit of the same exact color. Tan pants, tan boots, tan shirt, tan sweater, tan scarf. Yes, I actually saw this, and yes it was all the exact same shade of tan. It was actually kind of impressive. 

• And then there was the grandma wearing an olive green tracksuit with a matching olive green t-shirt, and an olive green jacket. Too much.

• The most common of these here in Spain is the all black outfit. Seriously people, what is wrong with a little color??

But I digress. Spaniards are known for their impeccable style, they just happen to have a lot of mistakes on the way to finding perfection.

Madrid, Alcalá de Henares y Segovia

This last week was jam-packed with traveling, and I have to admit, it's nice to be back home. As I was my butt was going numb from sitting on the bus for the past 5 hours, with another 4 hours to look forward to, I caught myself thinking "I can't wait to be home again." But this time, home didn't refer to the states. I was thinking about my piso in Algeciras. It's nice to finally feel that comfortable, here in a strange country.

As you might have read, I went to Germany last weekend. And then I was back in Algeciras for a whole 24 hours before bussing off to Madrid for the next weekend. Kaitlin, one of my roommates from college, lives in Madrid and so myself and Vanessa, another friend from college, decided to meet up and crash on her couch/extra mattress.

This was the first time I had been to Madrid to actually see the city, instead of just going to the bus station or airport. You tend to have a slightly pessimistic view of a place when you're only there for short periods in between 7 hour flights or 5 hour bus rides. So it was nice to actually get to know the city a little bit. Conclusion? Gorgeous! Amazing! Exciting! Not somewhere I would want to live, but definitely some place I want to go back and visit.

I had taken the overnight bus Wednesday, so I got in bright and early at 7am. Yuck. I detest the overnight bus. We went back to sleep until 11. Much better.

Thursday we spent the day walking around the city. We walked past Palacio Real, Plaza Mayor, Plaza España, Puerta de Sol, and some other touristy places that I had seen before, but not in a long time. Plaza Mayor had Spain's version of a Christmas Market going on. Very disappointing after being spoiled by Munich's Christmas Market. The stalls were full of mass-produced stuffed animals and reindeer antler headbands. (Which people wore proudly, both during the day and night.) However, they did have some 'make your own Christmas wreath' stalls that I thought were really cool.
And then there was the 'buy your Christmas tree here' stall, that was just really....different. The Christmas trees were tiny! And potted. So wrong.

That night Kaitlin introduced us to something really cool. It's called microteatro. It's like a play and a movie combined. The first floor is a bar and a ticket office, and then down in the basement there are 4 salas. Each room has a different play, that is performed about 10 times each night, in 20 minute intervals.
We went to the play Victoria. It was a comedy, and it was very very funny, but if I try to explain it it probably won't make any sense because I only understood about 75% of what was going on. (Which is still pretty good if you ask me...it was all in rapid-fire Spanish.)
There are only 15 audience members at each showing, which is because its held in a very small room with standing room only. We stood around the sides of the room and then the 3 actors used the space in middle. It was very personal and intimate, and such a unique experience.
Read here to find out directions and times!

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Kaitlin and Vanessa, before the show

Friday was a day trip to Alcalá de Henares. The whole of Alcalá can be explored in about 3 hours, and it was a nice chance to get out of the city for the day. We saw the house were Cervantes was born, and in Vanessa's words saw a "clusterf*** of old stuff". The old city is divided up into parts, the old Jewish quarter, the old Christian quarter, and the old Muslim quarter. Each quarter is very different and still has many of the original churches/buildings.

Alcalá is famous for its stork population. They like to make nests on top of the highest points of the tallest churches.

The highlight of Friday was going to see Cirque du Soleil Zarkana that night. For those of you who haven't had the chance to experience a Cirque show yet, DO IT!!! The level of thought and precision and execution put into each show is insane. Every second, every moment, every breathe of each person is planned out to a tee. I always feel like I'm missing something because there is not a single person on stage who isn't moving. The things they can do with their bodies are incredible, and just when you think "that's it, they must be done now" the up the act to the next level.

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This wasn't in Zarkana, but I did see something similar to this in Mystére. 

Saturday we splurged a little and slept in. Then at 11:15 we realized if we wanted to go to Segovia we had to take the 12:15 train. And it took 45 minutes to get to the train station. Shit. We jumped into over-drive, and somehow 3 girls (with 1 bathroom) got it together and left the house 15 minutes later. We ran to the platform just as the sign said 'next train: 1 minute." Ohhh yeah, we gots skillz.


I had been to Segovia before, but it was about 6 years ago. I think I had idealized the city in my mind, and Kaitlin had done the same thing. Sure, it was gorgeous and a nice day trip, but it was nowhere near the idyllic-most-beautiful-town-i'd-ever-seen-must-go-back-asap town that I had stored in my memory.
However, that is not to say that it wasn't gorgeous. Segovia is well worth the day trip from Madrid. I left my heart somewhere between the aqueduct and the fairytale-esque Castle.

That night we watched the Barca/Real Madrid game (well they watched, while I tried to keep updated on the NFL scores), ate the biggest fruit/cheese/bread platter I've ever seen in my life, and drank tinto. It was a good end to a good week. (The Packers are still undefeated, btw :) )

Yep, 3 girls ate allllllll of that. 

This poster came with Kaitlin's house. Look at those smoldering eyes ;)

Kaitlin told me "if you put your hand riiiiight here, you get...UNIBROW!"

Then all of Sunday was spent wishing I could kill myself as I took the 9 hour bus ride back to Algeciras. Tall people and Spanish buses are just not a good mix.
But I survived.
And now I'm home again :)

My backyard is the ghetto

Let me preface this story with 3 acknowledgments.

1) I probably shouldn't have been wearing black/neon pink nike running shorts and a regular t-shirt while running. I should have given in to Spain and its uni-colored tracksuit ways long ago. Oops, my bad.

2) Once I realized I was in the Algeciras ghetto, I should have turned around and gone back. 

3) Once I realized that I was passing some unfriendly looking people and that I was now at the heart of the ghetto, I really should have turned back. Not just started running down the center of the sidewalk instead so it would be harder for creepy men to grab out at me as I ran past. (This thought actually did cross my mind. Which might give you some insight into just how sketch this place was.) 

Still. I don't think that makes this okay.

First, I passed a woman who muttered something to the effect of "are you lost?" in slightly more colorful language. Then, just as I was reaching the top of the hill, I passed a woman doing laundry and her ratty-probably-hadn't-showered-in-the-last-week looking daughter. The woman said something I didn't catch, but the 9 year old girl said, plain as day, "que te fóllate". Which, I think, translates to go fuck yourself. 

Ugg.

It's too bad I went on the run in the first place to de-stress a bit. 

Munich, Germany

I finally made it to Germany! Munich to be exact! First impressions? Germany looks an awful lot like back home: lots of flat patchy farmland, pine trees, woods, and a very similar road system. Also very cold and dreary looking in winter. (I'm sure its much prettier looking in the summer.) But I fell in love with Munich, and would love to go back and see things I missed out on, like the Englischer Garten and Neuwenshanstein castle.

Saturday morning Petya, Shannon and I woke up bright and early at 4:30am to catch our flight from Málaga. The flight was uneventful, although we did run into Larken and Cassidy, 2 other auxiliares from Algeciras, waiting in line for our same flight! We got to our hostel 2 hours before we could check-in, so we dropped off our bags and went in search of a delicious authentic German restaurant. We totally lucked out, and found a terrific place with a waiter who looked exactly like Christof from Inglorious Bastards. He managed to convince us to stay for another round of beers after we were done with lunch, which resulted in us staying for 3 hours, drinking a liter of beer each, spending 20euro, and walking away feeling tipsy and amused. Can't say I've ever gotten drunk at lunch before.

Our waiter's twin. Since we didn't know his name, we proceeded to call him Christoph the entire weekend. "Let's go visit Christoph again and get lunch!"

During lunch Shannon informed us, "Did you know more Polish cows were killed during the war than Jews?" Petya and I, "Polish cows? Did you really just say Polish cows??" (She meant catholics, btw.)

That night we went to check out the famous Christmas Markets that Germany is famous for. There is only 1 word for a Christmas Market: magical. We got gluhwein (?) Germany's famous mulled wine, which I didn't think was all that great. Too strong and alcoholic tasting. But that's the point I guess, it gets you tipsy faster so you don't notice the cold as much. We had brats for dinner, and O.M.G. They were delicious. Then it was back to the hotel for some more beers and an early bedtime. Petya tried insisting that we couldn't go to sleep at 9pm on a Friday night, but Shannon and I insisted equally as earnestly that we had been up since 4am, so really, it was more like 2am. Which is a perfectly normal bedtime. 

Drinking Gluwhein and loving Germany.

Sunday morning we went to Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial. Our guide, Sonja, was incredible. She is writing her masters thesis on Dachau and the history surrounding it, and so was extremely knowledgeable. She told us stories from survivors that she had met and talked to, and I felt like I walked away from the tour actually having learned something, which doesn't always happen. 


The history of this camp is extremely interesting, because it was the 1st of all the concentration camps in Europe to be built. It was originally built in 1932 to house 5,500 political prisoners, aka people Hitler didn't like. By the time the camp was liberated on April 29, 1945, there were over 60,000 prisoners. This meant that there were up to 12 people sleeping in a single bunk, and over 2,000 people in one dorm. Sonja told us that there were twelve sinks and two toilets for all 2,000 people to share during the single hour they had to get ready each morning. Trying to picture this just wasn't even possible...


From 1932 to 1945, the camp had over 200,000 prisoners come through, and had an estimated 31,000 deaths. (Compare this to Auschwitz, which between 1942 and 1945 was recording up to 20,000 deaths a day...). If you're interested, check out more here. 

"Work will set you free"

The intake/processing room is on the left, and "the bunker", where the guards administered special forms of torture, is on the right. 

A guard watch tower. The buildings where the prisoners lived/worked where all single story buildings. That was the way you could distinguish between guard quarters and prisoner quarters. It was another way for the guards to beat the prisoners down and break them mentally.

All that is left of the dorms are the foundations. Can you even begin to imagine 2,000 people living in one of those?

A ditch like this surrounded the entire camp to keep anyone from escaping. If, however, an emaciated/weak/starving prisoner was lucky enough to somehow successfully jump this, then they had to climb over 2 barbed wire fences, and swim across a canal. And climb over a brick wall.

The crematorium. The builders designed it to look like a "little red brick house" so prisoners sent there wouldn't be alarmed.

Interesting fact, the only difference between a prison and a concentration camp was that people sent to prison had a right to habeas corpus, while those sent to a concentration camp had given that up. (Actually, Hitler had given that up for them. He passed The Enabling Act, which said that the government had a right to detain a person for an indefinite amount of time if they were suspected of being an enemy or terrorist. Which gave him the power to arrest any one he didn't like and ship them off to the concentration camps. Clever.)

Enough of the depressing stuff. After the tour ended at 4:30, we had just enough time to get some food and then meet up in the train station for a Beer Hall Tour. Awww yeah. I felt like a terrible person for visiting a concentration camp in the morning and then doing a 180 and getting drunk, but hey, when in Germany...

Can you see our looks of incredulous excitement? Well, we were in the central train station, and had just watched our guide plop down a crate of beer, crack them open and hand them over. For us to drink. In public. No worries. Life is awesome.

Part of the beer hall tour group.

                                    

Inside Haufbrau Beer Hall. Any country that dedicates vaulted ceiling halls to drinking beer has got to be a great country.

Gettin' tippppsy :)

The tour took us to 2 beer halls, 1 Medieval Christmas Market, and then back to our hostel, which coincidentally had a bar worthy of stopping at on a tour. The official name of the tour was the Munich Beer Hall Tour Challenge, and our guide explained that during the 4 hours we each had a chance to compete for the title of the Beer Hall Tour Champion. There would be only 1 winner. And the winner would not be the person who had drank the most or refused a glass of water or generally acted like a drunken idiot. There was a group of 15 of us, and while it was really awkward drinking with everyone at first, by the time the tour ended (just as our guide assured us) we were all best friends and sorry to have to say bye. 

Monday morning was disgusting and rainy and freezing, but we were dead set on exploring Munich. We lasted for 1/3 of a 3 hour walking tour, before deciding that we should probably seek warmth before our toes got gangrene. We enjoyed more Christmas markets, ate more brats, discovered marshmellow puff covered in chocolate deliciousness that translates to "little black men" from German, and toured the Royal Residence. And then went back to visit Christof get dinner. And he remembered us! 

Petya's crowning moment of the evening was telling us that her friend was 100% German, which was obvious because of her last name. (Pause.) "And by 100% German I meant 100% Italian." Longer pause "And by that I mean 100% Irish!! I swear!" So then...what does her having a German last name have to do with her being 100% Irish? 

The trip home Tuesday was long and boring, and our flight got delayed 45 minutes, which meant that Ryanair couldn't play their stupid trumpet when we landed. Being late was almost worth not hearing that.

I'll end this with some shots of Munich, and my favorite things.

Gingerbread hearts. They were disgusting. Tasted like cardboard. Ahh well, at least they were pretty.

Me + brat = happy

Rathas City Hall in Marienplatz. The Glockenspiel in the center is Europe's 2nd most over-rated tourist attraction, according to our guide. I'd have to agree. It was a pitiful performance. 

Munich's buildings reminded me of Excalibur in Las Vegas. (They were brand new, but in the style of older buildings.) Click here to find out why!

Say that 10 times fast.

That's the end of my post, but to learn more about Dachau, why German beer is so delicious, and find out who the winner of our Beer Hall Tour Challenge was, click here to read Shannon's post about the weekend!