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!
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