So with sleepy eyes, no makeup, and a tremendous amount of anticipation to see Bri and Florence, I left my hostel the next morning and made my way to the metro. Although I hadn’t needed to use the metro in Madrid before, I didn’t exactly relish the idea of a 30 euro taxi-ride to the airport. So with map in hand, I mustered all my courage to tackle the metro line. And what do you know? Even before I got into the metro I had a problem buying my ticket! First, I couldn’t figure out how to work the machine, and then once I got my tickets, the machine ate them and then stopped working! But God was looking out for me because just then he sent me an angel in the form of an unbelievably sweet and helpful twenty-something year old Spanish guy! Between his broken English and my broken Spanish, he understood what the problem was and used the metro phone to call the desk and ask for assistance. He waited with me and explained it all to the metro worker when she showed up, saying that he didn’t have anywhere important to be. So, whoever you are out there, thank you sooo much for your kindness!
Thank goodness I have some experience with metro maps and taking various lines because the journey to the airport was a little confusing, and I had to ask for help a couple of times along the way. But everyone was so helpful and went out of their way to assist me, so I was very grateful when I finally made it to the airport with the perfect amount of time before my flight. Overall, from the time I had left Salamanca, I had had a good time in Madrid but had also experienced great stress, so my reward was waiting for me on my flight…..as luck would have it, I sat next to a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL young Italian man named Emiliano….it was the most blissful flight of my entire life! I had planned to take a nap, but that plan went right out the window as soon as I saw that lovely white smile, those chocolate brown eyes, and tan skin. He was probably in his mid-20s, lived in a small town outside of Florence, was extremely attentive and funny, and had been in Spain on business with his colleague. We talked throughout the entire two and a half hour flight, and I was terribly smitten. If it was socially appropriate, I really would have leaned over and kissed him right there in the plane! I was devastated when the plane landed and we said goodbye as he and his colleague went to pick up their bags.
After taking a taxi to my hostel, I called Bri to let her know that I was finally in Florence, and the first thing she said to me is “I hate you!” (in response to me telling her about my Italian man lol). That’s love, alright! : ) She said, “Why couldn’t that happen to me!?” Brianna my love, you have over two months left in Florence to have a real Italian love affair, but I only had five days so I had to make it quick! When I met up with Bri that night, we screamed with enthusiasm when we saw each other…it was so wonderful and comforting to see someone I’ve known for so long and missed so much.
Before I go into Florence, I must talk about something that was pretty upsetting for me during my trip. When I had been in Madrid, my mom had gone to the dentist with major pain in her mouth and teeth. They obviously didn’t really understand the severity of her pain because the dentist said she would probably need surgery and that she should come back a few days later to look into it further. It was while she was waiting to go back that the pain became unbearable and my dad took her to the emergency room, where she ended up having surgery in her mouth. I’m still a little confused on the details of the surgery but after my parents returned home, my mom had major complications following. Her entire jaw was abnormally swollen and an abscess was growing in her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe and eat. She was put on a breathing tube and stayed in intensive care at the hospital for four days. Physically, she said it was the hardest thing she had ever endured in her life. It has been two weeks now, and she hasn’t completely healed by any means, but she’s no longer in danger. Most of this occurred while I was in Florence, and it made me sick that something so scary would happen when I am not only absent, but halfway around the world and completely unable to be there. To make matters worse, my dad was so sleep-deprived and distraught that he wasn’t communicating with me as well as he normally would. He also didn’t want to worry me too much so he wasn’t telling me much. But this worried me even more! I was sick with concern, so I finally took matters into my own hands and called my Nana, figuring that she would know everything. She set me straight on some details, and I asked her to please talk to my dad for me. It worked wonders because the next time I talked to him he was much better and could talk to me honestly and logically. I needed this very badly because I was starting to get the feeling that I needed to fly home. The truth is that it did almost get to that point, but thank God everything turned out okay.
Although I was very concerned about my mom, my five days with Brianna in Florence were still unforgettable. The city is just stunning, and once again, I was reminded of the reasons why I love Italy and why I feel such a joie de vivre there: the friendly people, ridiculously incredible art and architecture, brightly colored buildings, and flowers in every window. I saw some things I had dreamt about for years. I went to the Galleria dell’ Accademia and admired Michelangelo’s masterpiece, the David; I literally gasped when I turned the corner and beheld him, in all of his muscular glory. Just as my Nana had said, he was simply beautiful, and I walked around him three times before I felt satisfied! I saw the Gates of Paradise doors and the Rape of the Sabine Woman sculpture, both of which I learned extensively about in my AP art history class senior year (thank you Dr. Steeber!). I drank the most amazing hot chocolate of my life in the Piazza della Signoria, visited the Boboli Gardens, and admired breathtaking views of Florence with Brianna at Piazzale Michelangelo, while drinking Bellinis (my favorite drink and one that you can’t find in Spain, believe me, I’ve asked plenty of times!).
Additionally, I spent some of the best hours of my life at the Galleria degli Uffizi and saw Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus (I can die happy now); visited San Giovanni, which is the famous Baptistery, Santa Maria dei Fiore (more widely known as the Duomo!), and Ponte Vecchio (the gorgeous old bridge). Some irreplaceable memories I have include enjoying a wonderful, authentic Italian meal with Brianna at the invitation of her host mom; getting a good taste of Florence’s nightlife and singing Italian karoake with new friends from Quebec, Canada and Sydney, Australia, as well as other states in the US; watching proudly as Brianna impressed me with her Italian; and spending way too much time in this amazing stationary store, where we were instructed by a very friendly Italian man on how to make marbled paper by hand! The only bad part of it all was saying goodbye to Bri…I’m not going to lie; it was pretty hard on me. She is the only person I have seen in Europe that I know and will be the only one I see for the entire four months. How bittersweet it was to kiss on both cheeks European-style, and simply say “See you at Christmas!” I will miss her tremendously, so thank God we have skype!
Although Madrid and Florence were amazing, I was extremely happy to come home to Salamanca and see my friends here. For the time being, they are my family and I missed being with them, so it was blissful to see the cathedral spires come into view once again as my bus entered the city. After all of the experiences I had had during the past week, it felt like an eternity had passed, and I got all teary-eyed to be back in the city, back in my bed, and home…..
I got back to Salamanca a week and a half ago, and nothing too exciting has happened since. I was exhausted when I got back from my week-long trip, and I got sick immediately after. So, I’ve gone out a few times with friends, but have tried to lay low and get over this lovely cough I get pretty much every fall/winter. I started my new classes for the semester, and I am thoroughly enjoying my conversation and Spanish art classes. Now that I’ve been to the Prado, Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, and the Thyssen in Madrid and seen an abundance of Spanish art, it’s great fun to recognize the works of art that we discuss in class. I’ve also spent a good deal of time the past week writing and getting this blog updated, and a new load of pictures on Facebook will follow, so watch out for those!
I’m not going away this weekend, but on Sunday, I’m going on a day trip to the Sierra de Francia mountains located in the Salamanca region with my API group to do some hiking. I’m really looking forward to seeing the beautiful scenery, as well as visiting a traditional Salmantinian village on the way. And next Thursday, API is taking us to Paris for the weekend! I was there in June with my brother and fell in love with it, so I’m filled with anticipation to further explore “the city of lights.” So for now, I must go do some shopping for warmer clothes, but goodbye, adios, au revoir, arrivederci, sayonara, and vaya con Dios!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Chaos, Art, and of course, Sangria
It’s been a little while since I’ve written, but I’ve been quite the busy bee! About three weeks ago, I took my finals for my first intensive month. Two of them weren’t that bad, but the grammar final was ridiculously difficult! It was as if my professor felt the need to remind us of how little we know and how much we still have to learn about Spanish! My only consolation was that the other students didn’t do great either, so I didn’t feel too horrible about it. I think I ended up doing pretty well in my classes, although I haven’t gotten my official grades back yet.
Once my finals were over, I had a long weekend before starting my regular classes for the semester. For this break, I planned to visit one of my best friends, Brianna, in Florence, Italy, where she is studying abroad this semester. We have known each other since we were six, and it was such a comforting thought that I was going to see someone who actually knows me back home. Unfortunately, it was not a very easy trip to plan! As with many things in Spain, traveling is complicated, often involving quite a bit of research in order for everything to run smoothly. And I had been informed by my resident directors, as well as by the numerous signs posted all around Salamanca, that there was a general strike (all over Spain) planned for Wednesday, September 29, which of course was the day I was planning to leave! To get to Florence, I knew that I needed to take a bus to Madrid from Salamanca and then a flight from Madrid to Florence. However, if I left Salamanca on the 29th I would run the risk of having my bus to Madrid cancelled. So, with the assumption that my flight on the 29th would still go, I decided to skip my last day of classes on Wednesday and instead leave on Tuesday after school. My parents were a little apprehensive about my going to Madrid and staying overnight in a hostel alone, so I was excited when I found out that some of the other kids in my program were planning on doing the same thing before their flight to Dublin. So we all planned to go together and stay in a hostel overnight before I separated from the group for my flight to Florence.
Tuesday arrived, and I rushed home from school to finish my last bit of packing before grabbing a taxi to the bus station. I was very pressed for time and was just kind of throwing clothes into my bag, trying not to go over the carry-on weight limit (but I had no way to check because I don’t have a scale, so it was kind of a guessing game). Right before I needed to leave, I checked my email, and much to my dismay, my flight for the following day had been cancelled! I was so upset that I called my poor parents at 3:30 in the morning California time! Regardless, I was completely determined to make it to Florence to see Bri, so my mom and I decided that I should still make that bus to Madrid and try to figure out an alternative when I arrived.
After the two and a half hour bus ride to Madrid, the other API kids ended up deciding to stay in a hostel closer to the airport because the woman at the information desk said that it would be very difficult to get to the airport from the city center the next day due to the strike. My mom ended up making some phone calls to the Italian airline for me, and rescheduled my flight for Thursday afternoon, which meant that I would be staying by myself in Madrid for two nights before leaving for Florence. So this flight change had many consequences: I had to be by myself for much longer than I had anticipated, change my booking for the hostel in Madrid, as well as the one in Florence, change the date of the bus ride back to Salamanca, and inform my teachers that I would not be there for the first day of school (due to the fact that my trip got pushed back a day, I stayed a day later in Florence because I wanted to get all I could out of the expensive flight). And all this I needed to do without access to the internet or a printer!!!
Our bus from Salamanca took us straight to the airport in Madrid, where I separated from the rest of the group – they went to their hostel, and I began a two hour long wild goose chase all over the airport trying to get my flight changed (this was before I handed the problem over to my mom, who handled it all beautifully : ). Exhausted, hungry, and a tad nervous about being completely alone in the big city, I took a very expensive taxi ride to my hostel in the city center. All I kept thinking was “thank God that Joseph and I went to Europe this summer;” with all the planning and navigating I did before and during that three week trip, I really learned how to travel and handle difficult situations like these. I arrived at my hostel, settled into the room that I shared with five other people (very comfy cozy if you know what I mean lol), and went to sleep early.
Halfway through the night, I awoke with such a shock, unaware of where I was for a moment. This gorgeous boy from Belgium was telling me that he was sorry to wake me up, but I was in his bed! I was so dazed and enamored at the same time that I didn’t respond right away. Finally, I remembered that the guy at the front desk who showed me which bed was mine had seemed a little absent-minded and had probably booked one too many people in the room. I explained this to the boy, and after a few minutes of confusion and insisting to the new guy on the night shift at the hostel that I had definitely been assigned to that bed, the Belgian boy was given the bed next to me ( which someone may have paid for, but wasn’t there to use it). Once I sat up in bed, introduced myself, and talked to him a bit, he was very sweet about the whole thing and I was so distracted that I almost couldn’t concentrate on getting back to bed!
The next morning, I was determined to make the best of my full day alone in Madrid, so I did some sight-seeing that I had missed out on while I was there for orientation. I’m becoming pretty independent and I can definitely enjoy the sights on my own, so I actually had a lovely day. I went to a modern art museum called the Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, specifically to see one of the most important paintings of all time, Picasso’s “Guernica.” The painting is moving, but when you know the story behind it, it becomes infinitely more powerful. Before World War II and during the Spanish Civil War, Franco gave Hitler permission to use the Basque town of Guernica (which is located in northern Spain) as a practice saturation-bombing site; the town was nearly obliterated and many, many civilians died. In an abstract, Cubist style, Picasso depicts the victims of the bombing: a woman looks up at the sky in despair, horses scream, a man falls from his horse and dies, and most horrible to me, a sobbing woman holds her dead child in her arms. I had read a good deal about this painting before I saw it, but nothing prepared me for how I felt when I approached it. First, I gasped in amazement, thrilled to see something so impressive…then, as I took it all in, I began to cry, harder and harder. It was just so terribly sad – the horror of war and of the innocent lives lost...
After spending a good deal of time with the painting, I explored the rest of the museum. I would definitely not consider myself a “fan” of modern art, but I thoroughly appreciated and enjoyed contemplating the works of such famous Spanish artists as Joan Miro, Juan Gris, Francisco Goya, and of course, Salvador Dali. I went at my own pace and loved every single delicious minute of it. After leaving the museum, I took a nice little break in the Royal Botanical Gardens, where I spent a lazy hour or so listening to the birds and admiring the lovely, exotic flowers. Needing some energy, I grabbed a frappuccino at Starbucks (the only one I have seen in Spain) and headed over to the Thyssen –Bornemisza art museum, which basically houses major works by minor artists and minor works by major artists. This was a wonderful place to slowly end my art-filled day, and although it came with some major hassles, it was so nice to have that time in the city in which to finish my Madrid sight-seeing agenda.
Knowing that I was leaving straight for the airport the next morning, I walked to the Plaza Mayor (not as awe-inspiring as the one in Salamanca, but still lovely and beautiful in its own way) and had an AMAZING Middle Eastern dinner, complete with lamb, pita bread, and hummus. I don’t know if I was really hungry or just super excited to be eating something other than ham (pretty much the staple food of Salamanca), but I practically scarfed down the entire plate!
Feeling very satisfied with myself, I started to make my way back to my hostel, when I was confronted with the strike. Thousands of people were marching and biking through the streets of Madrid, blocking off streets everywhere so that people couldn’t get to work. As they walked through the main streets, they held large banners listing their protests; they wore red T-shirts, and chanted along with the crowd. “La huelga general,” or general strike, was much bigger than I had anticipated. Most domestic and international flights were cancelled, almost everything was closed, and “cerrado” (meaning “closed”) stickers had been put on literally every single store, building, and lamppost. Understandably, my parents were extremely nervous for me to be completely alone in the capital city on the day of this strike. Although I did not feel unsafe and the strike was in no way violent, the large, boisterous crowd was a little overwhelming to me. But I had to essentially join the strike to get back to my hostel, as they had blocked off the main street it was located off of.
Because I had been alone all day, I was definitely in the mood to do some mingling, and that night I decided to go on a pub crawl with the other kids in my hostel. I met four guys from San Jose, California, a girl from Quebec and two other girls from Toronto who were going to school in England. I had a marvelous time (with a little help from sangria haha), and let’s just say that maybe I didn’t come in as early as I should have!
I think I’ve written enough for now, so in a day or two I will post my next blog about my journey to Florence and my time there! Adios!
Once my finals were over, I had a long weekend before starting my regular classes for the semester. For this break, I planned to visit one of my best friends, Brianna, in Florence, Italy, where she is studying abroad this semester. We have known each other since we were six, and it was such a comforting thought that I was going to see someone who actually knows me back home. Unfortunately, it was not a very easy trip to plan! As with many things in Spain, traveling is complicated, often involving quite a bit of research in order for everything to run smoothly. And I had been informed by my resident directors, as well as by the numerous signs posted all around Salamanca, that there was a general strike (all over Spain) planned for Wednesday, September 29, which of course was the day I was planning to leave! To get to Florence, I knew that I needed to take a bus to Madrid from Salamanca and then a flight from Madrid to Florence. However, if I left Salamanca on the 29th I would run the risk of having my bus to Madrid cancelled. So, with the assumption that my flight on the 29th would still go, I decided to skip my last day of classes on Wednesday and instead leave on Tuesday after school. My parents were a little apprehensive about my going to Madrid and staying overnight in a hostel alone, so I was excited when I found out that some of the other kids in my program were planning on doing the same thing before their flight to Dublin. So we all planned to go together and stay in a hostel overnight before I separated from the group for my flight to Florence.
Tuesday arrived, and I rushed home from school to finish my last bit of packing before grabbing a taxi to the bus station. I was very pressed for time and was just kind of throwing clothes into my bag, trying not to go over the carry-on weight limit (but I had no way to check because I don’t have a scale, so it was kind of a guessing game). Right before I needed to leave, I checked my email, and much to my dismay, my flight for the following day had been cancelled! I was so upset that I called my poor parents at 3:30 in the morning California time! Regardless, I was completely determined to make it to Florence to see Bri, so my mom and I decided that I should still make that bus to Madrid and try to figure out an alternative when I arrived.
After the two and a half hour bus ride to Madrid, the other API kids ended up deciding to stay in a hostel closer to the airport because the woman at the information desk said that it would be very difficult to get to the airport from the city center the next day due to the strike. My mom ended up making some phone calls to the Italian airline for me, and rescheduled my flight for Thursday afternoon, which meant that I would be staying by myself in Madrid for two nights before leaving for Florence. So this flight change had many consequences: I had to be by myself for much longer than I had anticipated, change my booking for the hostel in Madrid, as well as the one in Florence, change the date of the bus ride back to Salamanca, and inform my teachers that I would not be there for the first day of school (due to the fact that my trip got pushed back a day, I stayed a day later in Florence because I wanted to get all I could out of the expensive flight). And all this I needed to do without access to the internet or a printer!!!
Our bus from Salamanca took us straight to the airport in Madrid, where I separated from the rest of the group – they went to their hostel, and I began a two hour long wild goose chase all over the airport trying to get my flight changed (this was before I handed the problem over to my mom, who handled it all beautifully : ). Exhausted, hungry, and a tad nervous about being completely alone in the big city, I took a very expensive taxi ride to my hostel in the city center. All I kept thinking was “thank God that Joseph and I went to Europe this summer;” with all the planning and navigating I did before and during that three week trip, I really learned how to travel and handle difficult situations like these. I arrived at my hostel, settled into the room that I shared with five other people (very comfy cozy if you know what I mean lol), and went to sleep early.
Halfway through the night, I awoke with such a shock, unaware of where I was for a moment. This gorgeous boy from Belgium was telling me that he was sorry to wake me up, but I was in his bed! I was so dazed and enamored at the same time that I didn’t respond right away. Finally, I remembered that the guy at the front desk who showed me which bed was mine had seemed a little absent-minded and had probably booked one too many people in the room. I explained this to the boy, and after a few minutes of confusion and insisting to the new guy on the night shift at the hostel that I had definitely been assigned to that bed, the Belgian boy was given the bed next to me ( which someone may have paid for, but wasn’t there to use it). Once I sat up in bed, introduced myself, and talked to him a bit, he was very sweet about the whole thing and I was so distracted that I almost couldn’t concentrate on getting back to bed!
The next morning, I was determined to make the best of my full day alone in Madrid, so I did some sight-seeing that I had missed out on while I was there for orientation. I’m becoming pretty independent and I can definitely enjoy the sights on my own, so I actually had a lovely day. I went to a modern art museum called the Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, specifically to see one of the most important paintings of all time, Picasso’s “Guernica.” The painting is moving, but when you know the story behind it, it becomes infinitely more powerful. Before World War II and during the Spanish Civil War, Franco gave Hitler permission to use the Basque town of Guernica (which is located in northern Spain) as a practice saturation-bombing site; the town was nearly obliterated and many, many civilians died. In an abstract, Cubist style, Picasso depicts the victims of the bombing: a woman looks up at the sky in despair, horses scream, a man falls from his horse and dies, and most horrible to me, a sobbing woman holds her dead child in her arms. I had read a good deal about this painting before I saw it, but nothing prepared me for how I felt when I approached it. First, I gasped in amazement, thrilled to see something so impressive…then, as I took it all in, I began to cry, harder and harder. It was just so terribly sad – the horror of war and of the innocent lives lost...
After spending a good deal of time with the painting, I explored the rest of the museum. I would definitely not consider myself a “fan” of modern art, but I thoroughly appreciated and enjoyed contemplating the works of such famous Spanish artists as Joan Miro, Juan Gris, Francisco Goya, and of course, Salvador Dali. I went at my own pace and loved every single delicious minute of it. After leaving the museum, I took a nice little break in the Royal Botanical Gardens, where I spent a lazy hour or so listening to the birds and admiring the lovely, exotic flowers. Needing some energy, I grabbed a frappuccino at Starbucks (the only one I have seen in Spain) and headed over to the Thyssen –Bornemisza art museum, which basically houses major works by minor artists and minor works by major artists. This was a wonderful place to slowly end my art-filled day, and although it came with some major hassles, it was so nice to have that time in the city in which to finish my Madrid sight-seeing agenda.
Knowing that I was leaving straight for the airport the next morning, I walked to the Plaza Mayor (not as awe-inspiring as the one in Salamanca, but still lovely and beautiful in its own way) and had an AMAZING Middle Eastern dinner, complete with lamb, pita bread, and hummus. I don’t know if I was really hungry or just super excited to be eating something other than ham (pretty much the staple food of Salamanca), but I practically scarfed down the entire plate!
Feeling very satisfied with myself, I started to make my way back to my hostel, when I was confronted with the strike. Thousands of people were marching and biking through the streets of Madrid, blocking off streets everywhere so that people couldn’t get to work. As they walked through the main streets, they held large banners listing their protests; they wore red T-shirts, and chanted along with the crowd. “La huelga general,” or general strike, was much bigger than I had anticipated. Most domestic and international flights were cancelled, almost everything was closed, and “cerrado” (meaning “closed”) stickers had been put on literally every single store, building, and lamppost. Understandably, my parents were extremely nervous for me to be completely alone in the capital city on the day of this strike. Although I did not feel unsafe and the strike was in no way violent, the large, boisterous crowd was a little overwhelming to me. But I had to essentially join the strike to get back to my hostel, as they had blocked off the main street it was located off of.
Because I had been alone all day, I was definitely in the mood to do some mingling, and that night I decided to go on a pub crawl with the other kids in my hostel. I met four guys from San Jose, California, a girl from Quebec and two other girls from Toronto who were going to school in England. I had a marvelous time (with a little help from sangria haha), and let’s just say that maybe I didn’t come in as early as I should have!
I think I’ve written enough for now, so in a day or two I will post my next blog about my journey to Florence and my time there! Adios!
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