My 48 hour thoughts

So I've been asked to keep blogging. By more than one un-related person. Which means that people actually look forward to reading what I ramble about! (Yay!)
So here it is. I've been back in the USA for less than 48 hours. Thoughts so far are that I'm handling the reverse culture shock better than I assumed I would, which either means that I've just gotten lucky so far and the worst is yet to come (most likely) or that since I already went through it after study abroad I'm much better prepared for this time (but probably not). Because let's be honest; If it only took me 4 months to say hola and hasta luego to everybody I met (even once I got back home), then I've formed much worse hard and fast habits after being there for 9 months.

Jet lag. Aah jet lag. On Tuesday when I landed at O'hare I had already been traveling for 24 hours, and then after I had dinner with my Mom's family and made it back to Milwaukee and into bed, it was 6:30 in the morning Spain time (11:30 at home). I was exhausted. And both yesterday and today I've woken up all chipper and awake at 6am. Which means I'm exhausted again by 8 or 9. I miss staying up until 2.

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Other thoughts are that driving in cars is scary. (Which I never thought I would say, because I've been known for my led foot all my driving years). But seriously! Matt picked me up from Chicago O'hare airport, and I spent the entire 40 minute drive to my grandparents house breathing deeply and trying to assure myself that he knew what he was doing. After only riding in coach buses that cruise at a comfortable 55 miles an hour all year, being a little car going 70 was quite the shock. Especially while driving through Chicago and Milwaukee traffic.

I've also noticed that I pause a lot more when I talk, or say things that sound a little weird grammar-wise. Just before I left Spain, I'd noticed that when I would try to think of a question in English, my thoughts would still come out in Spanish. I had to make a conscious effort to think in English. This wasn't so much a problem when I was with friends in Spain, because we all understood our strange mix of Spanish perfectly. Phrases like me da igual, vale, vámonos, qué quieres? está bien? un momento, más o menos, etc., were always said in Spanish. Always. But here, when I accidentally through in a Spanish word, more often than not I get a blank stare. So instead, I pause, think for a moment to find the word in English, and continue with my story. And save the Spanish rambling for my cat.

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Customer service. Now here, is a problem. I don't like customer service anymore, I've decided. At least, not in restaurants. I would much rather pay a little less to be ignored and to enjoy my meal, for however long I decide to make it, in peace. Matt and I went to Denny's yesterday morning, and within 5 minutes of sitting down (I hadn't even looked at the menu yet) a waitress was rushing over to ask what we wanted and say sorry for the wait.
What???
In Spain, it's an applause-worthy event if a waiter even looks at you 5 minutes after you walk in.
Oh America, we really need to learn how to slow down our pace of life a bit.

Here's another one. There's so much SPACE!!!! Even if I wanted to walk everywhere, (which I kind of do since I actually miss being able to use my legs after less than 48 hours) I couldn't. It's impossible. Everything is too spread out. While in Denny's yesterday I spaced out while looking at a field between 2 buildings and imagining how many Algecireño buildings would be squeezed into that space.

And finally, I've ease dropped on entirely too many conversations since I've been back. It's just too easy, and hard to block out. I miss just hearing the flow of Spanish, being able to understand it if I wanted to, but also just being able to let him be noise in the background. People say such stupid stuff sometimes. I don't want to hear it all.

I've also eaten too much food. The amount of food I had yesterday would be equal to maybe 1 1/2 or 2 days worth of food in Spain. No wonder I don't feel so hot right now.

So long story short, being home is.....okay. I'm not thrilled to be back in the states. It's been amazing being able to see friends and family again, and yea, the food has been delicious. But I actually miss paella and patatas bravas and jamón ibérico. I miss the slow pace of life, all the old crumbly buildings jam packed next to each other, and all the little Spanish abuelos blocking my way as I try to run to catch the bus. I miss Spain. But America and I will get to know each other better, and I know I'll feel more at home again. It will just take some time.

All good things must come to an end...

The year is over. Wow! I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm still not quite convinced that I'm actually leaving, even though I just threw away 3 bags of clothes and all my bed sheets. Normally, if I was taking the overnight bus to Madrid for a weekend trip I would be nervous right now, packing and double checking that I'm not forgetting anything. I'd be anxious, and just wanting to get there already. But right now? I'm not feeling any of that. I'm just completely in shock that I'm actually leaving. In 24 hours I will be home, back in the land of American, Jersey Shore, flavorful food, and real beef.

Spain might have been a little rough, this year might not have gone exactly how I'd hoped it would, but it was nevertheless one of the best experiences of my life. I challenged myself everyday and feel like a better and stronger person because of it.
There were high points (seeing my students markedly improve in their English) and low points (a trip to the ER after falling down the stairs). I traveled un montón (9 countries) but still took the time to know my own region. I improved 100% on my Spanish, but in the process lost a lot of my English-speaking and spelling capabilities. (Now everything I say es una mezcla, depending en cuales palabras encuentro primero.) I made great friends, both Spanish and extranjeros. I experienced the local fiestas (carnaval and the fería) and also the not-so-great aspects of living in a more money-conscience society. I made some really unexpected friendships (the Moroccan worker at the local alimentación or the waitress at the café near my school). Looking back on the year, it was so crazy and so fun that it's hard to come to terms that its over.

Although, going back home will just be a different adventure in itself. I'll be moving in with the boyfriend and two college friends, who have a dog. So really, life back home can't be all that bad either. And then there will be the period of adjustment, which I'm sure will make me want to jump on the first plane back to Spain. Within the past week I've already noticed small things, like not understanding the 12-hour clock system or fahrenheit anymore. ("You have class at 4:15?? In the morning?? Oh....right.") I can't wait to see my reaction to the price of fresh fruits and veggies. Oy. Vamos a ver.

Hasta luego Europa, until next time!

La Fería Real de Algeciras

A few months back, when I was deciding when to buy a plane ticket home, a friend told me that I at least had to stay for the beginning of la fería. She explained that although Algeciras absolutely sucks the rest of the year, they throw everything they have into this fería, and the result is incredible. I was definitely dubious, but I bought my ticket late enough that I would be here for the first 2 days.

With that in mind, going to la fería this weekend was one of the best cultural experiences I've had this year. I am so happy I stayed! The first night, Saturday, one of those nights where I literally had to work to keep a silly grin off my face. My jaw hurt from smiling so much.

• The fería kicked off with a parade from the port. I thought it was supposed to start at 10 and end right at midnight. Instead, it started at 8 and ended around 11:15. So when Cassidy and I showed up at 11:30 all excited to see a parade......well.........we were a little disappointed. Here's what we missed: 

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• Everybody crowded around the fería entrance around 11:30pm. At 11:59, I heard "cinco, quatro, tres, dos, uno!" and the huge gateway of lights lit up right on cue. It was incredible! Kind of like New Years Eve when everybody counts and the ball drops, only so much cooler because 100,000 little lights all lit up at the same time. 

(I took the rest of these, unless otherwise noted)

• It might have been midnight, but entire families were still out and about. I saw babies in strollers, little girls dressed to the nines in their flamenco dresses, and girls walking around in 5 inch heels. Ow!

• Back home, fairgrounds close down right as it gets dark: so to walk through a maze of carnie games and rides and smell popcorn and see little kids running around and realize that its pitch black out and 1am, was a bit of a surreal experience. 

• A fería is divided into three parts. First there are the casetas, which are individual stalls dedicated to different bars and companies in Algeciras. For example, the club Kube has a caseta, which means that if you want dance music, go to the Kube caseta. If you want to hear Flamenco music, there's a caseta for that too. If you work at BancoSabadell, then you can go to that caseta. So on and so forth. And this year there are 65 of them. You grab a drink, dance a little, and move on to the next caseta. (Bar hopping at its finest.) 

• The second part of the fería is the games/rides/fair food part. 

• And then a little farther down the street, is the Moroccan market. That is something I was not expecting. Grab a drink, eat some fair food, and buy a knockoff leather purse? 

• Cassidy and I had schawarma and churros for our fair food experience. What a strange take on the usual hot dog and mini-donuts route. 

• Saturday night we met up with a group of guys from Gibraltar, who found Cassidy on couchsurfing. There was a Kenyan, a Swede and 2 Italians, and they all spoke English so well that at first I assumed they were American. (Except for the Italians. There is no mistaking that nationality.) Talking in English felt so strange, and I kept accidently reverting to Spanish. I had to make a conscious effort to continue in English. 

• A Spanish song came on at one point that consisted of short verses. I caught this one: (Everyone was belting this out) "camarero! .......qué! camarero.........qué! Champiniones!!!!!!!!" And then everybody started dancing enthusiastically and singing "Champiniones champiniones champiniones champiniones!" (For those of you who don't speak Spanish, this is saying "waiter.....what! waiter.....what! Mushrooms!! Mushrooms mushrooms mushrooms mushrooms!") Oh Spain.

• Then during the day on Sunday I went back for a little bit just to walk around. The first Sunday of fería is when all the women and girls wear their flamenco dresses. It kind of reminded me of Halloween, except that everyone looked gorgeous, not scary. They pull their hair back and wear a flower, and then wear tight, mermaid style flamenco dresses in all colors and patterns.

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(I took this one too)

• Everybody was in the streets drinking pitchers of manzanilla (sherry) mixed with sprite, snacking on tapas and just having a great time. There were also horses everywhere. I've never seen a horse-drawn carriage in the streets of Algeciras until today. I also saw a little boy riding an even littler pony. Cutest. Thing. Ever.

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• The only thing I didn't like was that taking pictures is really awkward. Who wants to look up and see a strangers camera aimed at you? Not most people. But I sneakily took these pictures on my way home.

• Sunday night I went back again. The feeling in the air is so contagious that I was completely content to just wander the aisles between the casetas for an hour or so. Cassidy and I spent the night with her roommate and her roommate's girlfriend, having deep intellectual conversations about the fundamental basics of 'society', whether or not Al Queda was really behind the 911 attacks, and wether bullfighting can actually be described as an art form or not. We held all these conversations in Spanish, which is not an easy feat.

• This is also when I saw my first real bar fight, where each guy had 2 or 3 friends holding him back, and one left with blood spurting out of his nose and completely covering his shirt, as well as the shirts of several friends. It was not a pretty sight. And I can't unsee it.

• After her roommate left, we bumped into two off duty police officers. They confirmed our thoughts that Algeciras really is a dirty, crime-ridden city. It's always been fun to discuss a mutual dislike of this city with strangers. It's a great icebreaker, and we wind up bonding over what an unfortunate place we live in.

This was such a great last weekend to have in Spain. It was such a cultural experience and a great chance to go out one last time. But like always, Spain was there for me, to keep me from getting too sappy and too sad about leaving. There are always little things, like waiting in line for forever and a day for no reason at the bank, or the Spaniard shows up 45 minutes late to meet you, or your friend happens to get locked in her house because in Spain its totally normal to need keys to open the door from the inside. (In America, we reserve this feature for the special rooms that serial killers build to keep their victims.)

So sayonara Spain, nos vemos cuando vemos!

5 Days Exploring Catalunya: Part 2

Since Kaitlin left early Sunday morning, that left me with 2 full days to explore on my own. I spent Monday exploring a little town called Olot, famous for being built around several extinct volcanos. The drive from Girona to Olot was an hour long, but the rolling hills, greenery and medieval towns kept me occupied.

What makes Olot unique is that it's built on the edge of the Garrotxa Volcanic Zone Natural Park. Within the city there are 3 small volcanos, and there are around 40 in the entire national park.
I was only there for a few hours, since it was Sunday and everyone knows that Spain shuts down on Sundays, but it was long enough to accomplish my main goal of hiking a volcano.

I showed up in town right during the middle of a festival. Yes, those are giant statues of a king and queen, and yes, the townspeople are holding flowers and each others hands' and dancing in a circle. And yes, there was also a live band. Oh Spain, you really have the whole fiesta thing down to a tee.

 "Hiking" up the volcano. It literally took 5 minutes. 

Poppies! 

 This was the view from the top. In the background you can see another of the volcanos.

 The crater is entirely closed and grassed-over, and on the edge of the crater, there was a church!

 In short, Olot was cool. If you are ever in Girona, I highly recommend a day trip to Olot and....this next city, Besalú. If you like medieval architecture and cool bridges, this city will be your dream come true. Walking across this bridge was like taking a step back in time.

Real chair? Or 2D chair?

I found a hiking path that went behind the city. Not only where the views absolutely stunning, but I was in heaven since I hadn't seen a real hiking path since leaving Wisconsin. 

 Besalú's main city square. Love it!

Catalunya was so much more than I expected it to be; I'd also associated the region with Barcelona, and never thought to explore it any further. I'm so happy I changed my mind! The people were so friendly, and when they heard us speak Spanish they excitedly asked us where we were from. I guess there are so many tourists in that region that foreigners who actually speak Spanish isn't common? I'm not sure. This trip was definitely one of my favorite's from the past year, and I highly recommend visiting this region if you're looking for a fun weekend trip!