Un Dia Normal
Hola mis amores!
Because I’m not doing anything truly interesting until Wednesday (when I leave for Santiago de Compostela, in Galicia and will be AWOL until Sunday), I thought I’d tell you all a bit about my days here in Madrid. I know you’re all curious…
Mondays and Wednesdays, I get up at 7 and get ready to go to the UAM, which is the university that I attend here. It is about 45 minutes from my house. I get up, eat my toast and jam and coffee, and make my bed. Sometimes if I’m early enough I straighten my hair or do sit-ups…I’m the only one awake at this time, no one else gets up until at least 8:30, if not later. Around 8, I’m ready to go and I walk down the Serrano, which is the fanciest street in Madrid, down to La Castellana, which is the longest street in Madrid, where I catch the 27, 150, or the 14 bus, which takes me directly to the metro “Nuevos Ministerios.” Here, I catch the “Renfe Circanías” train, which takes me directly to the UAM. The bus ride is about 15 minutes and so is the train ride. Between walking to the bus stop and waiting for transportation, the whole thing takes me around 45 minutes. Mondays and Wednesdays I enjoy a two hour long Spanish language class, immediately followed by a two hour long class on Spanish literature (epics and satire, to be precise). That’s right, I’m in class from 9am to 1pm. It is quite possibly the longest morning I have ever endured. My professors are wonderful, but no one, not even the most animated person in the world, could possibly hold my attention for that long. My language professor has currently started a crusade to get me to pronounce my “rr”s and my “j”s correctly, so that I don’t sound so American…I have a new rhyme that I have to practice, “El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo porque Ramon Ramirez se lo ha cortado” (Saint Roque’s dog doesn’t have a tail because Ramon Ramirez has cut it off). Luckily, I then have the rest of these afternoons free, and I usually run errands and go to the Retiro to either run or jump rope. When I run, I always go by the fountain of the fallen angel, and when I jump rope I always go to this secluded little fountain where there’s a guy on a horse…I need to write down his name, he’s offered me quite a nice place away from public eyes who would see just how bad I am at jump-roping.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are a completely different story. I can sleep until 11 if I want to (but of course I don’t…I prefer to get up by 9 and do some homework). At 11:30, I get on the number 5 bus to get to metro stop “Tirso De Molina” (via Sol) to go to my flamenco class. This class is an hour and a half…and believe me, it feels like it. I enjoy it a lot…but sometimes we go too slow for me. I just want a workout, haha. Then I run back home to eat lunch with my family here. Lunch here, which I am able to come home for almost every day, is the biggest meal and usually consists of two settings, bread, and a dessert (which is a pansy dessert, fruit or yogurt). Today I had some kind of stew with beans and potatoes and ham that was quite good and then melón con jamón Serrano (melon and ham). Can you believe I’m eating ham? I couldn’t eat anything after that…I don’t know how much they think I eat, but it’s not that much! Lunch is usually between 2:30 and 3…very difficult for me to get used to in the beginning.
Then on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I go to class from 4:30-8:30. Yes. This is incredibly painful for me. I have Spanish history, which is an endless class where the professor drones for two hours nonstop…he’s lucky that I’m interested in the subject or else I’d pass out. I like him…but he’s pretty boring. I feel like he has such potential to be interesting, and then he crashes and burns. Then I move on to Poly-Sci, which is surprisingly enjoyable. The professor is really young and he forces us all (even me!) to talk during class and to say what we think. I have to give a presentation in this class…I’m still not sure what I’ll do it on…I’m a little nervous about that.
I don’t get home until after 9, but that’s not a problem because dinner isn’t until 9:30 or later anyway. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I think, “8pm?! It’s too early for dinner!” And I’m the girl who used to eat at 5:30!!!
I have no classes on Fridays, which is wonderful…this Thursday we have off, which means that this weekend is a “Puente,” meaning that people will take a reaaaaaaally long weekend – they do 4 days here, not 3. That’s why I’m going up north, to see Galicia with my friend Molly. Other than that, most of our weekends are filled with trips to other cities or to places within Madrid. I also have my trips to Portugal and Rome all planned out. I still need to go back to the Rastro to buy gifts…
Sundays I go to church near my house, either with my Señora, or by myself. I bought myself a book with the prayers in Spanish and now I can follow along better…the problem with Spanish people is that they tend to mumble and so it’s hard to follow unless you’re reading.
I go to bed at midnight or later…no one here goes to bed before 11, and I have a lot of homework that needs to be done. I still haven’t slept a full night here, which is really weird to me (and pretty hard too, sometimes I’m just sooo tired and there’s nothing I can do. They siesta here and I guess I could do that, but naps just mess with my head). This summer, I literally passed out every night and didn’t wake up until my alarm jarred me awake. Maybe I need to start standing 8 hours every day again like I did this summer when I worked at Clyde’s, haha. Here, I have weird dreams almost every night, and I wake up every night at least once, usually confused, and still feeling like I’m in my dream. Actually I think part of the problem is that I eat so much later than I’m used to – that must be part of the dream thing, and it also makes me have to pee in the middle of the night (I usually end up convincing myself that I can wait till morning…which means that I wake up at least two more times before I finally tell myself that I won’t be able to sleep without making the looooong journey to the bathroom). I’m sure you really wanted to know that, haha. Take my advice everyone, if you wake up at midnight and have to pee really badly, just go. You won’t make it through the night without waking up again.
Like anywhere I could go, I’ve had a bit of culture shock here…sometimes I’m absolutely in love with Spain and with Spanish people and sometimes I walk down the street grumbling to myself. The thing with Spanish people is that YOU have to make the effort…you have to smile, you have to initiate conversations. I remember when I was getting my hair cut and I was soooo shy that I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or ask why I had to wait so long. And so, no one talked to me. So I was sitting in the chair getting my hair washed and thinking to myself how mean everyone is here, and then the guy washing my hair suddenly asked me a question and realized that I’m not from Spain. He started asking me questions and spoke to me in English, and we ended up talking the entire time, as he washed my hair, cut it, and blew it straight (that takes a long time, I have a lot of hair). Then at the end he gave me his phone number and told me that if I needed anything I should call him. So I walked down the street with my beautiful new hair, thinking how amazing and nice the people here are. It’s like they’re a contradiction…they walk right by you on the street, they push their way through on the metro, and in stores they don’t greet you when you come in…but as soon as you start talking to them, as soon as you get to know them, even the smallest bit, they become so helpful and sweet and kind. I can’t figure it out…I smile at people on the street and they think I’m nuts. For me, it’s difficult to know what to do.
What else is weird is living with “parents” again. Babis and Emilio are kind of more like grandparents…but they still take care of me, do my laundry (oh my goodness, I still can’t believe that people who I’ve only known for a month are washing my underwear), they tell me how to go places, they give me advice, correct my Spanish, put a water glass in my bedroom every night, buy me chocolate and peanut butter…it’s kind of nice, but at the same time there are some nights when I want to sit in front of the TV and eat some crappy food that I’ve made myself and not have to talk to anyone for a couple hours. Anti-social? Maybe, but I like to think of it more as sanity.
But overall, I find the people here, and my life as well, to be extraordinary. I do love Spain…I am glad that I came. Before leaving I was upset and nervous…I remember wondering why I didn’t pick somewhere else. Now I can’t imagine having to leave. I guess you’ll all just have to come visit me :-p
Muchos besos mis amores!!! Y Gracias for reading this – I know it wasn’t short!
Because I’m not doing anything truly interesting until Wednesday (when I leave for Santiago de Compostela, in Galicia and will be AWOL until Sunday), I thought I’d tell you all a bit about my days here in Madrid. I know you’re all curious…
Mondays and Wednesdays, I get up at 7 and get ready to go to the UAM, which is the university that I attend here. It is about 45 minutes from my house. I get up, eat my toast and jam and coffee, and make my bed. Sometimes if I’m early enough I straighten my hair or do sit-ups…I’m the only one awake at this time, no one else gets up until at least 8:30, if not later. Around 8, I’m ready to go and I walk down the Serrano, which is the fanciest street in Madrid, down to La Castellana, which is the longest street in Madrid, where I catch the 27, 150, or the 14 bus, which takes me directly to the metro “Nuevos Ministerios.” Here, I catch the “Renfe Circanías” train, which takes me directly to the UAM. The bus ride is about 15 minutes and so is the train ride. Between walking to the bus stop and waiting for transportation, the whole thing takes me around 45 minutes. Mondays and Wednesdays I enjoy a two hour long Spanish language class, immediately followed by a two hour long class on Spanish literature (epics and satire, to be precise). That’s right, I’m in class from 9am to 1pm. It is quite possibly the longest morning I have ever endured. My professors are wonderful, but no one, not even the most animated person in the world, could possibly hold my attention for that long. My language professor has currently started a crusade to get me to pronounce my “rr”s and my “j”s correctly, so that I don’t sound so American…I have a new rhyme that I have to practice, “El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo porque Ramon Ramirez se lo ha cortado” (Saint Roque’s dog doesn’t have a tail because Ramon Ramirez has cut it off). Luckily, I then have the rest of these afternoons free, and I usually run errands and go to the Retiro to either run or jump rope. When I run, I always go by the fountain of the fallen angel, and when I jump rope I always go to this secluded little fountain where there’s a guy on a horse…I need to write down his name, he’s offered me quite a nice place away from public eyes who would see just how bad I am at jump-roping.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are a completely different story. I can sleep until 11 if I want to (but of course I don’t…I prefer to get up by 9 and do some homework). At 11:30, I get on the number 5 bus to get to metro stop “Tirso De Molina” (via Sol) to go to my flamenco class. This class is an hour and a half…and believe me, it feels like it. I enjoy it a lot…but sometimes we go too slow for me. I just want a workout, haha. Then I run back home to eat lunch with my family here. Lunch here, which I am able to come home for almost every day, is the biggest meal and usually consists of two settings, bread, and a dessert (which is a pansy dessert, fruit or yogurt). Today I had some kind of stew with beans and potatoes and ham that was quite good and then melón con jamón Serrano (melon and ham). Can you believe I’m eating ham? I couldn’t eat anything after that…I don’t know how much they think I eat, but it’s not that much! Lunch is usually between 2:30 and 3…very difficult for me to get used to in the beginning.
Then on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I go to class from 4:30-8:30. Yes. This is incredibly painful for me. I have Spanish history, which is an endless class where the professor drones for two hours nonstop…he’s lucky that I’m interested in the subject or else I’d pass out. I like him…but he’s pretty boring. I feel like he has such potential to be interesting, and then he crashes and burns. Then I move on to Poly-Sci, which is surprisingly enjoyable. The professor is really young and he forces us all (even me!) to talk during class and to say what we think. I have to give a presentation in this class…I’m still not sure what I’ll do it on…I’m a little nervous about that.
I don’t get home until after 9, but that’s not a problem because dinner isn’t until 9:30 or later anyway. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I think, “8pm?! It’s too early for dinner!” And I’m the girl who used to eat at 5:30!!!
I have no classes on Fridays, which is wonderful…this Thursday we have off, which means that this weekend is a “Puente,” meaning that people will take a reaaaaaaally long weekend – they do 4 days here, not 3. That’s why I’m going up north, to see Galicia with my friend Molly. Other than that, most of our weekends are filled with trips to other cities or to places within Madrid. I also have my trips to Portugal and Rome all planned out. I still need to go back to the Rastro to buy gifts…
Sundays I go to church near my house, either with my Señora, or by myself. I bought myself a book with the prayers in Spanish and now I can follow along better…the problem with Spanish people is that they tend to mumble and so it’s hard to follow unless you’re reading.
I go to bed at midnight or later…no one here goes to bed before 11, and I have a lot of homework that needs to be done. I still haven’t slept a full night here, which is really weird to me (and pretty hard too, sometimes I’m just sooo tired and there’s nothing I can do. They siesta here and I guess I could do that, but naps just mess with my head). This summer, I literally passed out every night and didn’t wake up until my alarm jarred me awake. Maybe I need to start standing 8 hours every day again like I did this summer when I worked at Clyde’s, haha. Here, I have weird dreams almost every night, and I wake up every night at least once, usually confused, and still feeling like I’m in my dream. Actually I think part of the problem is that I eat so much later than I’m used to – that must be part of the dream thing, and it also makes me have to pee in the middle of the night (I usually end up convincing myself that I can wait till morning…which means that I wake up at least two more times before I finally tell myself that I won’t be able to sleep without making the looooong journey to the bathroom). I’m sure you really wanted to know that, haha. Take my advice everyone, if you wake up at midnight and have to pee really badly, just go. You won’t make it through the night without waking up again.
Like anywhere I could go, I’ve had a bit of culture shock here…sometimes I’m absolutely in love with Spain and with Spanish people and sometimes I walk down the street grumbling to myself. The thing with Spanish people is that YOU have to make the effort…you have to smile, you have to initiate conversations. I remember when I was getting my hair cut and I was soooo shy that I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or ask why I had to wait so long. And so, no one talked to me. So I was sitting in the chair getting my hair washed and thinking to myself how mean everyone is here, and then the guy washing my hair suddenly asked me a question and realized that I’m not from Spain. He started asking me questions and spoke to me in English, and we ended up talking the entire time, as he washed my hair, cut it, and blew it straight (that takes a long time, I have a lot of hair). Then at the end he gave me his phone number and told me that if I needed anything I should call him. So I walked down the street with my beautiful new hair, thinking how amazing and nice the people here are. It’s like they’re a contradiction…they walk right by you on the street, they push their way through on the metro, and in stores they don’t greet you when you come in…but as soon as you start talking to them, as soon as you get to know them, even the smallest bit, they become so helpful and sweet and kind. I can’t figure it out…I smile at people on the street and they think I’m nuts. For me, it’s difficult to know what to do.
What else is weird is living with “parents” again. Babis and Emilio are kind of more like grandparents…but they still take care of me, do my laundry (oh my goodness, I still can’t believe that people who I’ve only known for a month are washing my underwear), they tell me how to go places, they give me advice, correct my Spanish, put a water glass in my bedroom every night, buy me chocolate and peanut butter…it’s kind of nice, but at the same time there are some nights when I want to sit in front of the TV and eat some crappy food that I’ve made myself and not have to talk to anyone for a couple hours. Anti-social? Maybe, but I like to think of it more as sanity.
But overall, I find the people here, and my life as well, to be extraordinary. I do love Spain…I am glad that I came. Before leaving I was upset and nervous…I remember wondering why I didn’t pick somewhere else. Now I can’t imagine having to leave. I guess you’ll all just have to come visit me :-p
Muchos besos mis amores!!! Y Gracias for reading this – I know it wasn’t short!
posted by Unknown @ 11:59 PM
1 Comments:
At 2:59 PM,
Anonymous said…
you are an absolute howl. 'i like to call it sanity'-- but so true! turns out i'm going to have to go to ireland-- possibly-- and that's apartments with three to five other girls-- and a whole new set of problems!
i want to learn flamenco when you come back!
kelly
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