tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49460715688356310032024-03-14T11:17:24.094-07:00EspañaMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-53620359571486338882010-08-08T20:47:00.000-07:002010-08-08T21:33:15.213-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-IqQEvaGB5OtMGA0LX9ZO6kWADZqYlxQYwp5bBLkgEIQQbqP0tLi0rlJeBrVb9dvriUQzO4KFUXAUm_OKrlAYOgfSifbtMPmQFDvYjcKatiZfxfws2kNODy0dVhyu_ZAhDYBkIAZ_VY/s1600/DSC_0217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-IqQEvaGB5OtMGA0LX9ZO6kWADZqYlxQYwp5bBLkgEIQQbqP0tLi0rlJeBrVb9dvriUQzO4KFUXAUm_OKrlAYOgfSifbtMPmQFDvYjcKatiZfxfws2kNODy0dVhyu_ZAhDYBkIAZ_VY/s400/DSC_0217.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503256778779477202" /></a><br />Well, I have am officially locking the doors on this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">España</span> blog, since I am now sitting on my own couch, in my own house, in my own country. Its been a month and a half since I was last in Spain, but it seems like so much longer. I am so grateful for the entire year--every piece of ham, every kiss on the cheek, every <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Spanish</span> word learned, every person I met who showed me that the world is so very big and not at all the way I thought it was. <div><br /></div><div>So, closing up, winding down. Now rather than looking at old Spanish cathedrals, I'm looking at colleges. But only those that offer quality semester study abroad programs. I'm addicted to the world. I think anyone who goes out and sees the world can't help but crave more, its a one taste and you're hooked kind of deal. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, with all of this said, I'll have to do my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">thankyous</span> now: </div><div>Thank you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">facebook</span>, for allowing me to keep in touch. Thank you Janine, Eliza and Liza for being my America in Spain. Thank you Madrid transportation system, for making me hate New York City's confusing metro/bus mess. Thank you camera for letting me store my memories and share them. Thank you family for letting me go sooner than anticipated and making me feel loved, even from 3000 miles away. </div><div><br /></div><div>And thank you Spain... for expanding my world, for giving me this addiction to explore new cultures, and for being the setting for my most ridiculous, most beautiful and most surprising year yet.</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-38344222760104412752010-05-21T08:31:00.000-07:002010-05-21T08:53:59.053-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LPdVH1us0aA2HcERppNV-FWld3so9tsoMHSOqbMvnp23IFSeLvLrNj2eheeaBzRE31RmkYJq2-CssKO1U9a6rwegReL3V_0UJIa7kv_36J9z8J6t1XN-eSuqrA5roTx2q6hsREQ5RXc/s1600/Amantes_de_teruel.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LPdVH1us0aA2HcERppNV-FWld3so9tsoMHSOqbMvnp23IFSeLvLrNj2eheeaBzRE31RmkYJq2-CssKO1U9a6rwegReL3V_0UJIa7kv_36J9z8J6t1XN-eSuqrA5roTx2q6hsREQ5RXc/s320/Amantes_de_teruel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473751833751160706" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The city of the two lovers: </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We went to the city of lovers (no, not </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">paris</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> nor </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">rome</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">), actually </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, a little town in </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Aragón</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> which is famous for its two historical lovers: </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Isabela</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Segura</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and Juan </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marcilla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Here's a little summary of the S</span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">panish version of our</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> of romeo and </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">juliet</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Lovers of </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is a romance story that is alleged to have taken place in 1217 in the city of </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Aragón</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the city there were two important and wealthy families, </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marcilla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Segura</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Juan Martinez was a </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marcilla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and Isabel a </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Segura</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. The two were in love as childhood playmates but when they were both at an eligible age to wed, Juan's family had fallen on hard times. Isabel's father, being the most wealthy in all of </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, forbade the marriage. Juan, however, was able to make an agreement with the father in which he would leave </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Teruel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for five years to try to build his fortune. If Juan was able to gain wealth within those five years he would be able to marry his love, Isabel.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During those five years her father pestered her to marry someone. She replied to him by saying that God wished her to remain a virgin until she turned twenty, saying that women should learn how to manage the household before getting married. Because her father loved her dearly and wished for her happiness he agreed, and for five years they waited for Juan's return.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Diego was not heard from in those five years and so on the day of the five years' close Isabel's father married her to another man.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Right after the wedding ceremony there was a commotion at the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> gate. The watchmen informed the village that Juan </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marcilla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> had returned with great riches and with the intent of marrying Isabel.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That night, Juan snuck into the bedroom of Isabel and her husband and gently awoke her. He pleaded to her, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> 'Kiss me for I am dying' and she refused, saying '</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">God would not wish me to deceive my husband;</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I beg you to find another, and forget about me.'</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He begged her one last time, saying that he was dying and wished for a final kiss. But still she refused. Upon hearing this Juan could not bear the separation between himself and his love, and with a sigh he died on the feet of his beloved Isabel. </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The next day, during the funeral for Juan </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marcilla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, Isabel showed up dressed in her wedding dress. She proceeded to walk to the front of the church and place a kiss on the man whom she had refused but in doing so Isabel died, falling prostrate on the body of the man whom she loved.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So we saw the lovers' tombs, and the old structures of Teruel and visited Cuenca, another old city famous for its hanging houses that appear to be falling over the cliff.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In other news, San Isidro festivals and the 100 year anniversary of Madrid's beloved main avenue (Gran Via) were a great success this past weekend.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The weather is getting beautiful (now we just have to wait for the pollen to disappear) and I await the arrival of my maternal grandparents, who will arrive within the next few hours to enjoy a nice madrileño weekend of tour busses, tapas, and pastries (:</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p></span></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-79308768657961425742010-04-26T02:37:00.000-07:002010-04-26T02:53:53.266-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcueVlsHQIstfzmtcS2PYNd0o9ebCJTbDTt95aLusjEFTa8JDmH-OwqsIy1S6IDLzdsY6IbuOVX9tMUlSPzpF8hNY1HMP2p4WEFo-mDuE_uZDVQ6yR-rD70qteEd0uxGhaGg28hDasP6U/s1600/DSCN4756.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcueVlsHQIstfzmtcS2PYNd0o9ebCJTbDTt95aLusjEFTa8JDmH-OwqsIy1S6IDLzdsY6IbuOVX9tMUlSPzpF8hNY1HMP2p4WEFo-mDuE_uZDVQ6yR-rD70qteEd0uxGhaGg28hDasP6U/s320/DSCN4756.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464381786409709170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jRyQUUzwXuU8ika7NGCJAL2kaKqAEsrtw5pu-2966HEOW-RIqumGz8Q8Usisy2AIcoy8xen1hreVy2mY4E_njnblJz4eQcrYhLVnpr5q4Hupwh7QUBmK1065vFOXAMsB5klxfvGHWQg/s1600/DSCN4783.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jRyQUUzwXuU8ika7NGCJAL2kaKqAEsrtw5pu-2966HEOW-RIqumGz8Q8Usisy2AIcoy8xen1hreVy2mY4E_njnblJz4eQcrYhLVnpr5q4Hupwh7QUBmK1065vFOXAMsB5klxfvGHWQg/s320/DSCN4783.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464381519471219890" /></a><br />Moros y Cristianos: Alcoy:<div><br /></div><div>This last weekend, i was in Alcoy, Alicante where the triumph of the Christians over the Muslims in the fifteenth century was celebrated. after 7 centuries of Muslim occupation, the Muslims were thrown out of Spain, and this little snippet of history is represented every 21- 24 of April in the little pueblo of Alcoy. Almost the entire town participates, dressing up in either muslim or christian outfits, each in a particular group. The most important characters are the muslim and christian captains, who fight on the castle on the last day of the festivities. After that, the second in comand and the "favorites" of the captains- the captain's wife, daughter, sister or friends. And these townspeople don't just dress up for the parade and then return to normal life - no, they stay in character all day, everyday, through the night and send their costumes out for some serious dry cleaning on the fifth day. The music never stopped and the fireworks went off basically all day. What impressed me the most was the mezcleta, where hundreds of fireworks go off simultaneously and you feel like your eardrums will burst. I had never, never imagined such noise was possible. The combination of the feeling of fiesta, great food and moors and christians dancing in the streets all day and all night, just made it... so Spanish.</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-85087242819042995792010-04-10T12:05:00.000-07:002010-04-10T14:10:38.306-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJskv7pYCdv418YmRxDG4TdUkd1rMu9OZh1ryZ6aM7T_XWAaFBiCZ4LtgJTF-AK0GXggRLuTSa_-zRIuaw60MvA7HiUKfCDYa8xD-P6loKSZnvcaJ9hdSZl_BYLxDKw_Y6rFg2uBH91WY/s1600/DSCN4378.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJskv7pYCdv418YmRxDG4TdUkd1rMu9OZh1ryZ6aM7T_XWAaFBiCZ4LtgJTF-AK0GXggRLuTSa_-zRIuaw60MvA7HiUKfCDYa8xD-P6loKSZnvcaJ9hdSZl_BYLxDKw_Y6rFg2uBH91WY/s320/DSCN4378.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458603436600996386" /></a><br />Well, on Monday I return to real life. Not that being a vacationing-tourist was easy, oh no- eating currywust in Berlin, taking in the sun in Retiro Park in Madrid, and kayaking in the Duratón river-- they tire you out, let me tell you. All vacations must come to an end, and life always begins on Monday- with a language test on a book that you don't even know the title of...<div><br /></div><div>So spring break: </div><div><b>Destination:</b> Berlin, Germany.</div><div><b>Company:</b> co-rotary-exchanger Janine Docimo </div><div><b>Host:</b> Toni Kroeger and Co</div><div><b>Dates:</b> March 26 - April 2</div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Itinerary:</span></b></div><div><b>Day 1: </b>Arrival in Berlin after a stop over in Dusseldorf. We eat our very first currywurst ever (see link below). Then to track practice with Toni and realization that its not just a stereotype that most Germans really<i> are</i> quite tall, blond, and attractive. </div><div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Currywurst">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Currywurst</a></div><div><b>Day 2:</b> Breakfast of "quark" and delicious jams, honeys and tiny-rolls at Toni's dad's house. Later, a tour of Madrid by car- a visit to ole Bismark's monument and several key areas. The Jewish museum and interesting encounters with Toni's varied friends-- cheap Italian dinner included </div><div><b>Day 3: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">FLEA MARKET! Bought old black&white German photographs for cheap and some banana honey and of course indulged ourselves in the wide variety of fantastically meaty German street food.</span></b></div><div><b>Day 4: </b>The Berlin wall walking tour, which includes checkpoint charlie and the topography of terror (center of Nazi masterminding during the war), and a lot of apple eating. The day completed with an evening of Berlin-style shopping and nice dinner of Sushi and eis <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> (ice cream)</span></div><div><b>Day 5: </b>We went to school with Toni and shared our (slightly biased) opinion of American society, since Toni's honors English class is discussing suburban culture as an introduction to the well known film "American Beauty." Then we explored tiny neighborhoods busting with character, not to mention currywurst and eis (Do you notice a recurring theme?). Later on, we enjoyed dressing up in leopard print, hot pink, and floral tights to attend a "bad taste party." Needless to say, we looked ridiculous in a super fashionable European city (with a straw hat-- yes, a straw hat)</div><div><b>Day 6: </b>Another tour of Berlin and a view of the city from above in the famous TV tower (The Fernsehturm), and then Doner Kebab for dinner.</div><div><b>Day 7: </b>Riverboat with Toni in the canal, followed by market shopping, and Germany's next top Model (who knows what they were saying, but man did they work it)</div><div><b>Day 8: </b>Final lunch with the family and return to Madrid. </div><div><br /></div><div>Berlin was followed by lots of rest, recuperation, and of course day-trips to Madrid. School "started" but not for me-- some students from Southern Spain came up to Madrid for their week of exchange so all of us who went to Andalusia in November got to prolong our vacation and enjoy kayaking, bowling, cathedral-visiting, yogurt-factory-touring and neighborhood-exploring with the southern Spaniards. So, all of this to say- vacation has been great, but the higher the build up, the greater the fall- so Monday's science presentation and language test might hurt a bit; a lot. But this spring break was fabulous, and i have more photos and memories (and extra pounds) to last me a good while...</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-24646284163312480332010-03-14T06:57:00.000-07:002010-03-14T07:02:27.917-07:00<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">So, as of 5 hours ago, I have a new house, a new family, and along with that, a pet schnauzer-like dog, a parrot (who never fails to greet you upon your entrance, with a friendly ‘buenos dias’), a bat, a turtle and a weekend beach chalet on the Mediterranean sea. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">6 hours ago, I left my mother (the biological one :) at the Madrid Airport.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">20 hours ago we were walking on the 11<sup>th</sup> century wall in Avila, Spain. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">25 hours before that, I was taking an economics exam.</p><p class="MsoNormal">What is this ever-changing world we live in?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everything has changed so fast, I couldn’t tell you how I got here, but here I am, and I will be spending my last three months in this adorable house on dolores street. I would say that things should be slowing down soon, but that’s just not how things decided to sort out. This week, with a madrileño concert, a St. Patricks day party, the town dance, and packing for spring break in Germany— there’s really no time to sit and reflect on all of these changes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Let me explain- My mother came for a long weekend to visit her daughter and the historic town of St. Teresa of Avila (which would be, not so surprisingly, Avila). We started out the mini-vacation shopping on Gran Via in Madrid and enjoying my favorite spots throughout the city, among which include a little calzone shop, ‘happy bakery,’ J&Js <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">English </i>booksellers and café, and little Chinese stores that sell cheap juice and chips. The next day I enjoyed showing my mom about my life in Tres Cantos- we lunched with a friend and her family, and enjoyed some ham with some Rotarians for dinner (Spanish ham is not just any ham, mind you. It is THE ham).. The next day we left for Avila after I had finished my 3 mid-term exams (Yes, great timing, all of this). A 3 hour dinner of Castilian soup and St. Teresa soup was enjoyed by all (all two of us), followed by getting lost in the winding avilian streets (yes, avilian streets, I am allowed some poetic licence) at thirty minutes till midnight. We found our hotel and the next day we did all of the tourist activities—walking on the famous wall, going into cathedrals and chapels, seeing Teresa’s ring-finger in a box at her mini-museam.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Frozen by the mountainous chill, we returned to Madrid to eat churros and chocolate and enjoy the numerous street performers that flock to Sol on Saturday nights.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Now she should be in Portugal and on her way home to welcome our new exchange student from Brazil who moves in today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I unpack all of my belongings in my new house, my new house on dolores street. </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-57526974315052662252010-02-07T06:32:00.001-08:002010-02-07T06:35:13.483-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUL6IM-xjbqrCqBN0uBl3HyXleU3J5WjLIHqekzBSGjWy6ebRSRsEt5Usy30iRQPcVlZkr7dICWUK1W7W0NfeOZTxaZaoKYVD2-RVc1wBEEKTiVQgYTuWJfhXl582pwJhng201SLDOZVk/s1600-h/DSCN4209.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUL6IM-xjbqrCqBN0uBl3HyXleU3J5WjLIHqekzBSGjWy6ebRSRsEt5Usy30iRQPcVlZkr7dICWUK1W7W0NfeOZTxaZaoKYVD2-RVc1wBEEKTiVQgYTuWJfhXl582pwJhng201SLDOZVk/s320/DSCN4209.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435509342406791346" /></a><br />Sorry to be away for so long, grandma, grandpa, I'm a blog slacker, but I'll try to keep you better updated this month! Here's January, my halfway mark (five down, five to go):<div><br /></div><div>After christmas vacation, I'm just getting back to reading, and writing and arithmetic. But I decided to change the swing of things- I added more activities into my daily schedule as to inch away from facebook and skype. I now regularly enjoy classes of Tai Chi, latin dancing and Spanish language (free tutoring from a classmate), my new gym, volleyball, pool and coming soon: tutoring english to a neighbor (eight euros an hour isn't bad, eh?). So, its all to say that I am keeping busy, and it makes the days fly by. <div><br /></div><div>Otherwise, I am just living and enjoying my free weekends. A few weeks ago, I enjoyed visiting a friend in Alcalá de Henares, which is one of the oldest cities near Madrid- the university was built in 1499, and is still functioning today. The town has old churches, old cobblestone pathways, its dirty and beautifully decrepit and is just a very different Spain from what I am used to (the town I live in is 30 years old....) The next weekend I went to my host dad's military ceremony, where he received an award for 30 years of service (see above). It was super official and patriotic and I enjoyed all of the stiff salutes and anthem singing that went on. This past weekend I attended an Arctic Monkey's concert with the Americans in Madrid and it was wonderful music and the ambient was very concert-y: hundreds of sweaty bodies in a mosh pit, singing and jumping in rythm to a British, alternative rock beat. And then yesterday I got a bit more spanish culture: a concert of "Jotas": typical spanish song and dance from little towns in the province of Soria. Old Spanish dress, pueblo dance. A big contrast from Arctic Monkeys. Wonderful, nonetheless. </div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-44646590114171762472010-01-16T07:27:00.001-08:002010-01-16T07:58:08.178-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_NBlML4YgzofSyuoW8oYjLwSCxVJJ_uyk-ShGMfP4vE40L5Qp_dEOIIT60d6WkkW8-bPJlYZmqIrm-nJsLs3zQNIzTmW1XMw0HcRMTkSYe_hU72KOyNe6JBjUKzDeh-jKuuw9z9H7c4/s1600-h/DSCN4082.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_NBlML4YgzofSyuoW8oYjLwSCxVJJ_uyk-ShGMfP4vE40L5Qp_dEOIIT60d6WkkW8-bPJlYZmqIrm-nJsLs3zQNIzTmW1XMw0HcRMTkSYe_hU72KOyNe6JBjUKzDeh-jKuuw9z9H7c4/s320/DSCN4082.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427361074611146690" /></a><br />New Years Eve: Taking the grapes. First, we have dinner and dessert, and lots of jokes and all, and THEN... twelve seconds before midnight, the first bell rings in SOL, the center of Madrid, which we hear via the television, channel 6. With the first bell, each person eats their first grape, and on the second ring, the second grape. Sounds easy enough, but its not- one grape every second for 12 seconds equals a high chewing/swallowing velocity combined with extreme levels of hand-eye coordination. Super fun though, and an interesting taste of an old Spanish tradition. After the taking of the grapes, the little kids and adults stay to play board games until the early morn while the youth go to clubs and what not. I just went to the "town dance," which was a replica of a Madison High School dance in the gym. Replica, a spanish replica. Instead of the cotton eye joe, we had the bomba, and instead of Rihanna, we had Canto de Loco. And in the morning, after a night of dancing, we had churros with chocolate.<div><br /></div><div>So after bringing in the New Years, we had 3 Kings day, which is a big thing here. A parade with balloons, candies, floats and then churros, again. And then the kings (the three wise men) come, during the night from the 5th to the 6th, and leave presents for the kids. </div><div><br /></div><div>AND then.. There's Andorra. Okay, well Andorra isn't a Spanish tradition, but thats what followed for me. 5 days in Andorra, a little country between Spain and France in the Pyrene mountains. I went with my school and another American exchange student who's an avid snowboarder from the Rocky Mountains. So basically, she went for the black diamonds and tree skiing for the mornings in the ski resort of Vallnord, while I stuck to the nice green, winding, lower slopes, and then we reunited for the nights to go shopping, swimming, strolling. Andorra is like a mini Paris, I'd say, with lights and shopping and everything, but surrounded on all sides by huge, colossal mountains, the tops dipped in snow. </div><div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-61274280017277806992009-12-29T14:19:00.001-08:002009-12-29T14:56:47.148-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ56xp65tqEUIUoBfpjZFmM8NMRj2bXI8SD5qgPyPZlWE3VGkCL6SGoBgp7RWJupuDIGzs2wTT9BVVpu8MfRGMacK1JBlgjrozkYTnZ4nwCJTsua3i5c4qYdaSaF-F8ckui1d2OP6fvHA/s1600-h/DSCN4035.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ56xp65tqEUIUoBfpjZFmM8NMRj2bXI8SD5qgPyPZlWE3VGkCL6SGoBgp7RWJupuDIGzs2wTT9BVVpu8MfRGMacK1JBlgjrozkYTnZ4nwCJTsua3i5c4qYdaSaF-F8ckui1d2OP6fvHA/s320/DSCN4035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420795443763365602" /></a>Christmas in Spain... is basically eating a lot. Ready? <div><br /><div>-Polverones: almond powdery sweets</div><div>-Tortilla: egg, onion, potato</div><div>-Turrón: fudge-like almond butter squares (in strawberry, more almond, chocolate and cream flavors)</div><div>-almendras: almonds </div><div><br /></div><div>And there's more; there's much more. </div><div><br /></div><div>So. Christmas. :</div><div>-Family dinners on Christmas Eve that last until 6 in the morning, and fireworks, sparklers and poker. </div><div>-Family lunches on Christmas Day, where there are four types of cake, which you are told you must try all of them.</div><div>-Skyping with real family in the U.S, opening presents over skype.</div><div><br /></div><div>After Christmas:</div><div>I took a trip to Pamplona, in Northern Spain, near Basque country to visit an exchange friend. Pamplona is known for the running of the bulls during San Fermines in July every year </div><div><br /></div><div>( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Running_of_the_Bulls )</div><div><br /></div><div>Pictured above is the statue in the middle of Pamplona dedicated to this tradition in which over one million people come annually to watch (or participate....) But thats not for another 188 days (as I found out on the clock in Pamplona that counts down the days, hours, minutes and seconds until the start of the run). But in the meantime, there are other things to do.</div><div>Pamplona is wonderful, and Navarra (the province) is BEAUTIFUL- castiles and vineyards in every direction. The town where my friend, and where i stayed is called Ciriza, which means "cherry" in the basque language (euskera). This is because, as I found out as we pulled into the family's driveway, because every house has cherry trees which bloom in the Spring in Ciriza. </div><div><br /></div><div>So Christmas, then Pamplona, back in Tres Cantos. Relaxing, drinking my chocolate milk ( I really drink about 3 cups daily ) , studying for my "recuperation" exam in Math for when we return ( I'll admit it, I failed math class), AND, most importantly, getting ready for a ski trip to Andorra in a week. For that.. you'll have to wait for next time. </div><div><br /></div><div>And happy (almost) 2010 (how much better does that look than 2009?). </div><div>Till the new year,</div><div>Megan </div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-68856974475138108902009-12-16T11:17:00.000-08:002009-12-29T15:00:38.107-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuzOa78N8FURRreHWFBPhsr5Hctoud_99J0CTI48XPJdUjrSf0rgz3LWpO2Sjj-xvZlzpXDNNU3BaJh44AywQa5yrNqs1rUoNR1osTT8tHIwxmBpW1Q-yQAIkfSsxFzUp88X20MYd2U4/s1600-h/DSCN3920.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuzOa78N8FURRreHWFBPhsr5Hctoud_99J0CTI48XPJdUjrSf0rgz3LWpO2Sjj-xvZlzpXDNNU3BaJh44AywQa5yrNqs1rUoNR1osTT8tHIwxmBpW1Q-yQAIkfSsxFzUp88X20MYd2U4/s320/DSCN3920.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415934859060865570" /></a><br />Pre-Navidad vacationing.<br /><div><br /><div>Week 1: SEGOVIA. On the long weekend, I went North to Segovia with an exchange friend, and it was so great to see castles (el alcázar pictured here) and aqueducts and beautiful Spanish streets. We went for a full 12 hour day and saw everything, everything. </div><div><br /></div><div>Five days later, I took a trip to TOLEDO with my friend Toni, from Berlin and we.... didn't see everything. We stayed in McDondals, playing cards and eating bread with cheese on account of the freezing cold outside and not having any money left. It was great, but a little non-toledo-ish. The next day we went to the Madrileño flea market and later tried to go into the soccer stadium, but didn't enter since we refused to pay 30 euros to look at grass in a building. So we saw the Madrid decorations and enjoyed a nice wintery day. </div><div><br /></div><div>This week is the last full week of school before the holidays, so that means grades come out, and everyone stresses. But in one week, it will be christmas, and everyone will be jolly again, sitting around the family table, singing songs (I made that part up) and eating polverones and chuches.</div><div><br /></div><div>p.s. first snow today. </div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-13447291563695973742009-11-29T06:20:00.000-08:002009-11-29T06:43:55.167-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-tc0HfLvXrycrGnabRxqEhrf2WCs5surJZKsMYwNWlH4fcqiNYLDB2919OPnJL5NS9uEyQmsEivGVG0nS3iBMLYVNodxIIRhHr8ePvL3e4QiAlZqm1lDPa8XKU7E_6skVKRw9jH1ajYE/s1600/DSCN3832.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-tc0HfLvXrycrGnabRxqEhrf2WCs5surJZKsMYwNWlH4fcqiNYLDB2919OPnJL5NS9uEyQmsEivGVG0nS3iBMLYVNodxIIRhHr8ePvL3e4QiAlZqm1lDPa8XKU7E_6skVKRw9jH1ajYE/s320/DSCN3832.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409536258966377170" /></a><br />Whirlwind of a two week, nonstop, gogogo... : Weekend in Madrid with American friends, then day-trip to the north of Madrid to visit little "pueblos" (one of which is famous for having life-size dinosaur statues all over the town(?), and then my parents and sister came- (the real, biological ones). This week... I'm going to have to sleep. and sleep.<div><br /></div><div>Thanksgiving was very un-thanksgiving-ish, but enjoyable nonetheless. My family and I went to a Rotary function where we had some "turkey" (hey, they tried) and some typical Spanish sides. And the next night, my family and I went to FLAMENCO dancing, which was wonderful- how can anyone move their feet so fast? And Saturday we did touristy things, we took a walking tour, went to the Royal palace, bought overpriced souvenirs, things like this. </div><div><br /></div><div>And we ate Mexican food, Indian food- o how i've missed my spices. </div><div><br /></div><div>And seven hours ago, the family left for Paris (don't get jealous, its just a layover), and then the USA. And now I go to school tomorrow, study for a poetry test and do math homework. How strange is this double life.<br /><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-86853036845040517592009-11-15T11:28:00.000-08:002009-11-15T13:35:47.243-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_iqNLlQfBXkWs4yJUx1Z4Y0zAJoOfXVqI1DZ93FYIy0BRpQcLgX6bmtcSU9wWo8cZoaB1X8L4oPImVB-4Vx7cN7bvJgktAFiXzKjefPtiG9J7Out2HeTC90YBUZUflcD3mIOFFzBkVk/s1600-h/DSCN3569.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_iqNLlQfBXkWs4yJUx1Z4Y0zAJoOfXVqI1DZ93FYIy0BRpQcLgX6bmtcSU9wWo8cZoaB1X8L4oPImVB-4Vx7cN7bvJgktAFiXzKjefPtiG9J7Out2HeTC90YBUZUflcD3mIOFFzBkVk/s320/DSCN3569.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404437099754130354" /></a><br />Andalusia. is. beautiful.<div>But not in the breathtaking-white-sand-white-beaches way. Its beautiful in the way that when you're walking along a narrow cobblestone street at night, you hear flamenco music and have to go flat against the wall to let the motorcycles pass. And that outside of the mesquitas and catedrales there are dancers and gypsies and accordion players.</div><div><br /></div><div>And in the way that there are little "pueblos" in the mountains where all the houses are white and where the kids hang out in the abandoned castle (a real castle) on friday nights. </div><div><br /></div><div>Basically, andalusia, where I went this past week with a school group, is wonderful. We went Sunday morning and arrived in SEVILLA where we met students from Northern Spain and Southern Spain. We explored the Giralda and did tourist-y things. Monday we spent in CADIZ, which has beautiful streets and good ice-cream (:</div><div>Tuesday was a hike in the mountains with churros and then to RONDA for shopping. Wednesday we went to MÁLAGA and did the museum route. Thursday we rode bikes high in the mountains in via verde and then had the afternoon to explore the castle in the little pueblo where I was living for the week. Later I played soccer and got the chance to ride a motorcycle. Which was AWESOME. Then Friday we set off for CÓRDOBA where we visited the mosque/cathedral and other places that they told us were very important and historic (but I can't seem to remember the names of...?). We ate at a buffet and walked around the beautiful, narrow streets with names like "street of the flowers" and "street of good health". Saturday we had mostly free- to shop, walk, explore, eat at burger king... things of this nature. We then left beautiful Andalusia. </div><div><br /></div><div>Andalusia....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-55930213003382623382009-11-01T06:45:00.000-08:002009-11-01T07:07:24.554-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I HAVE POP-TARTS! and Duncan Hines home-style cream cheese frosting, and reese's peanut butter cups. Why? because there just happens to be a little market in Madrid called "Taste of America." The frosting is now hidden behind the books on my shelf with a little spoon. Shh, don't tell. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So comfort food: check.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Weekly dose of family bonding: check. (We went to another family birthday party and I played with transformers and barbie dolls with the host cousins. This week, no lighters)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Halloween: Check.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Someone asked me how halloween works in Spain. And here is how it is:<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "><span class="UIStory_Message"><div id="id_4aed9ef97c7f46d61717498" class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">First you get lost looking for your friends in the wrong place. They call you and you tell them that you are near the "house of the youth" they tell you that you are in the wrong part of town. You find them after 30 minutes of searching and realize that you probably should have dressed up, because you look like a freak in jeans and a sweatshirt. So your friend gives you some wings and a witch hat and your on your way. You ride in th</span></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">e back of a van to get to a farm in the outskirts of your town. You pay 3 euros and your in. You talk to people from your class as you drink coca-cola. then you go into the 'passage of terror' which is possibly the most ridiculous and fantastically lame thing you've ever waited an hour for, in a pushing, angry croud of spanish teenagers. And then you listen to screamo music and pretend to like it. Then you go back in the van and listen to Britney Spears the whole way home. And you had a good time.<br /><br />I missed the pumpkin picking, the carving, the candy and scarecrows, but Halloween here in Spain was definitely memorable. When would I ever have the opportunity to go to a farm party with screamo music and a 'passage of terror' in a barn in the U.S? </span></span></span></span></div></span></h3><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And God fix: check. Missionary church today.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Good week: check.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Going to Cadiz, Spain next week: check. I'll tell you all about it next blog (:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-35119129550736571502009-10-25T10:38:00.000-07:002009-10-25T14:46:43.059-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2AoRgzq2NKRCxGAJE3EsYRkEeKY9ToMwFtn7089DWAbkpnbuKhn2vz6t1zpHaMTuRlpsDc1CIu1fKQdDH-IuPsuod6jptpLAuGpmv2BV8wPoWtxIIte2-a-f4CKj9KPBqRd4X8RWBT-0/s1600-h/7630_166558251127_630091127_3340190_3583346_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2AoRgzq2NKRCxGAJE3EsYRkEeKY9ToMwFtn7089DWAbkpnbuKhn2vz6t1zpHaMTuRlpsDc1CIu1fKQdDH-IuPsuod6jptpLAuGpmv2BV8wPoWtxIIte2-a-f4CKj9KPBqRd4X8RWBT-0/s320/7630_166558251127_630091127_3340190_3583346_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396655504703907250" /></a><br />This weekend was fantastic, because i got to see the beauty of Madrid. Madrid is a wonderful city, but it is not particularly beautiful, that is, unless you go to the Sierra Mountains just to the north of the city and hike eight kilometers up to Peñalara Peak. <div><br /></div><div>About 30 other Rotary exchange students and I spent Saturday hiking in the Peñalara Park, where we found snowy peaks and beautiful views of the city below. Nothing compares to eating jamón york on the highest point in all of the Madrid area.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then today, I stayed with my exchange student friend, Eliza, who lives in Madrid, and went to the Rastro, which is the biggest (and best, or so they say) flea marked in all of Spain. It was huge and wonderful. I bought pins, old photographs or Holland and France, used stamps of Spain and bag-fulls of gummy-candy. I was tempted to buy a golden buddha that said SPAIN on it, just because it was ridiculous and would look great on my bed stand, but I ran out of funds and had to resist. </div><div><br /></div><div>Madrid has a lot to offer, so if you are planning a trip to the city, don't forget that there's more to this wonderful capital than just "tapas" and the Prado (:</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-50042560729030204752009-10-18T07:44:00.000-07:002009-10-18T08:54:31.409-07:00Assimilation is what its called. I'm beginning to think a little bit more like a Spaniard. I've found that for the most part, the values are different here. Sports, friends, tidiness, food and school are important. Whenever I asked what people did after school, they would tell me "we study." I figured this to mean that they go out with friends, go for a walk, play sports, go on the computer, and hang out with their families. After a month of school I finally have figured out what they mean: they mean that they study-- real, legitimate studying. I was surprised too.<div><br /></div><div>I went to another family lunch this weekend and played with lighters with my four year old "cousin", which was probably a very bad idea, but it was fun, because there were about 20 different types and brands. Also we looked at photographs of weddings and trips and its interesting to think that while I was living my life, somewhere far away, this family was living their life, only I had no idea. So Saturday is family day.</div><div><br /></div><div>And friday is hanging out with friends day. There are three options:</div><div> 1. You go to the "forest" (Its okay, I don't understand this either) </div><div>2. You go into Madrid and shop at the "English Court".</div><div>3. You walk around Tres Cantos in a small group and go in and out of supermarkets and buy pringles and sunflower seeds.</div><div><br /></div><div>I usually opt for option three, but they are all pretty fun. </div><div><br /></div><div>And on Sundays you study and watch soccer and car-racing: Formula 1, on TV, then you eat a big lunch and sleep and rest for the long week ahead. And for me it now includes going to church, because I found a tiny, little community church that has an American pastor as well as "crazy-cake" and cookies after the service (Grandpa, you can breathe now) </div><div><br /></div><div>And that is the typical weekend in Spain. I've experienced six weekends, and I'm beginning to catch the flow: school --> friends --> family --> rest. </div><div><br /></div><div>It makes sense, right?</div><div><br /></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-83405466900704159082009-10-12T03:59:00.000-07:002009-10-12T05:02:42.913-07:00I turned 17 this week. And birthdays are pretty big in Spain. I was walking out of my apartment building on Wednesday morning to go to school and I heard some friends across the street singing Happy Birthday to me. And we had American brownies with milk. It was a good day. <div><br /></div><div>Things I learned this week:</div><div>-Good restaurants are not open on Sunday nights. So don't expect to go to an exotic Indian restaurant because you'll end up eating lo mein at the chinese restaurant next door.</div><div>-There are a lot of missionary kids in Tres Cantos. Well, 6.</div><div>- Everyone has a personal Saint, and today is Saint Pilar's day. Which is my host mother's saint, and the Saint that watches over the Military. </div><div>-"International Music Concert" really means 30 people making animal noises and mimicking sirens, all at the same time.</div><div>-A three day weekend is called "a bridge" in translation.</div><div>- Age doesn't seem to matter that much in Spain. A 13 year old can be friends with a 19 year old, no problem. </div><div><br /></div><div>And today is a national holiday in both Spain and the U.S. I like that. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes and thoughts!</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-10541485927123346142009-10-03T16:05:00.000-07:002010-04-10T15:11:39.445-07:00Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-68774783863141646522009-09-27T13:13:00.001-07:002009-09-27T13:32:05.295-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-zWf92ASULao9tm-Q53IFTci07uj5a3PhiozlFon5lDHFlyajU3xggBoQ1QsAlZZ4wlzGNNwkKwJoIETG-8Y4ikWCkczP2_symAJ-V8tdSfiv9m1HMF5MW1KqoqnUmpCIVrDwZSY5IA/s1600-h/DSCN3174.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-zWf92ASULao9tm-Q53IFTci07uj5a3PhiozlFon5lDHFlyajU3xggBoQ1QsAlZZ4wlzGNNwkKwJoIETG-8Y4ikWCkczP2_symAJ-V8tdSfiv9m1HMF5MW1KqoqnUmpCIVrDwZSY5IA/s320/DSCN3174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386247166752790210" /></a><br />This weekend was a weekend of discussions. I had a wonderful debate about communism on Friday (in Spanish of course), on Sunday was philosophy with my American friend- about religion, morality and all that good stuff. And today was politics- from stereotypes to the Vietnam War and Palestine. Politics. In Spanish. I'm not sure how that happened.<div><br /></div><div>And it was also the Medieval Festival here in Tres Cantos, which had glass blowing, ancient torture devices, chocolate pastries with little mystery dried fruits inside (?) , and incense and goat cheese. </div><div><br /></div><div>And today marks the third week I have been here. And tomorrow is school. And right now I am going to do my "deberes" which means homework in Spanish, but really translates into "shoulds". I am glad they are called shoulds and not musts. But these shoulds are a little over my head. I wish they were called 'its okay if you can't do these because you don't speak Spanish'... but sadly they are called shoulds, so here i go, because I probably should...</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-74788644696202817862009-09-19T04:53:00.000-07:002009-09-19T06:41:20.942-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzwtK5-FUAuPpbxkaR3GpCYnbxmXYRmH-jGMXmdIBSlpD_WaDcc_qgoUbh4qhXpJGCU9ngeC-We_uN-Yj8RiQcDZZ30_zg7Pv6GRDnIQfpnyEP7q8iKY2MYKodgTAwbF32WHQwVXx6KE/s1600-h/DSCN3159.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzwtK5-FUAuPpbxkaR3GpCYnbxmXYRmH-jGMXmdIBSlpD_WaDcc_qgoUbh4qhXpJGCU9ngeC-We_uN-Yj8RiQcDZZ30_zg7Pv6GRDnIQfpnyEP7q8iKY2MYKodgTAwbF32WHQwVXx6KE/s320/DSCN3159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383171990191111426" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br />MADRID! Last night I went to Madrid, and it was incredible.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Elvis Perkins in concert was fabulous, as was his opening act, Dawn Landes. Somehow my friend Eliza got our names on "the list" and we squeezed our way up to the first row in front of the stage. After the concert, we got to talk a few seconds with one of the band members, and we talked with Elvis on the street before the show, so I'd say it was a definite success.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">And the Madrid metro is possibly the most sensible invention since post-its. It just makes sense. All of Madrid makes sense, like how I found out that in Starbucks in Madrid, "especial para los ni</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">ños" means that if you are not a "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">ni</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">ño" (little kid), then you cannot order off that menu. It makes sense. I don't like it, but it </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">does</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> makes sense. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Cambria, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment--> <!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-64706444613691083042009-09-17T00:35:00.000-07:002009-09-17T03:38:20.248-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkLk9FRnL1SI3A7uhL5MkHNlcIFRXcI40dPL1jZUzRVemHPaefgPngalAU96XHbjg2ahOVbjbmz-HImmg8bc90d5jUXBv4_TCObnsxaxrkSaPpUH0DiUFnkkXAmuMQ0jhyphenhyphenwo0y1pjiZk/s1600-h/DSCN3057.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkLk9FRnL1SI3A7uhL5MkHNlcIFRXcI40dPL1jZUzRVemHPaefgPngalAU96XHbjg2ahOVbjbmz-HImmg8bc90d5jUXBv4_TCObnsxaxrkSaPpUH0DiUFnkkXAmuMQ0jhyphenhyphenwo0y1pjiZk/s320/DSCN3057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382383728068583698" /></a><br />I am starting school in... 24 minutes. So we'll see. (school to left)<div><br /></div><div>In the last three days three blog-worthy things have happened:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. I cooked my first meal in a foreign country by myself, so I had to go grocery shopping and figure out that "ajo" means garlic just as "comino" means cumin. The family did not like the meal so much, but it was a nice reminder of food from home, even though the food here is delicious.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. I was sitting by myself in the kitchen when I spilled juice on my pants, and I reprimanded myself in Spanish, though there was no one there to hear, and for this I felt pretty proud. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. My family and I went to a chinese restaurant (which is the closest thing to something familiar in this whole country) and for dessert, I didn't know what to order, so my host mom just ordered the same thing for me as she did for herself. So when it came out, I found out that she had ordered 2 huge bowls of whipped cream with three nuts on top. Just whipped cream in a huge crystal bowl. It was... wonderful. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-34040537122886364192009-09-13T01:53:00.000-07:002009-09-13T17:06:32.316-07:00ONE WEEKIts been.. One Week. One week and fourteen hours. This past weekend I was at a Rotary retreat with about 60 Americans and a few Austrains, Germans and Canadians, but basically, the U.S took over a square mile (kilometer?) of Spain this weekend. It was nice to see that others are just as scared and excited as I am, and it definitely was nice to meet people that live in the Madrid area, so hopefully we can get together sometime soon and speak English (: Although truly, it is pretty fun practicing my Spanish and laughing at how I cannot roll my rrrrs for the life of me.<div><br /></div><div>And today I took a nice long nap, and took a walk around my city, and so now I can succesfuly walk myself to the bank, the candy shop, the ¨chino¨(the Spaniards coined it, not me--a shop run by a chinese couple), the super market, the school, the park and the bread shop. Later I went with some other kids to the candy shop and guitars were played, and ipods were used and it was a nice relaxing night, like almost every night here, because people here are just very laidback and awesome. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I learned today that ¨mini-me¨from the Austin Powers movies, in Spanish, is called ¨mini-yo¨, which for some reason, I find hilarious. And I learned the expression ¨flipa!¨which is a hardcore way of saying WOW. </div><div><br /></div><div>But most exciting of all, I found out that I am going to Madrid on Wednesday to see a band (of friends of friends) and go to the Prado and we´ll just ¨dar una vuelta¨ which in this case means just take a walk, but it can really mean whatever you want it to, in whatever context. So I am excited for Madrid, excited to make mexican tortilla lime soup for my family for lunch tomorrow, excited to start school on Thursday, and mostly just excited to become Spanish-ish, and to have the opportunity to take a look through someone else´s eyes*.</div><div><br /></div><div>Works cited: *Phil Collins, for writing ¨Look Through My Eyes¨for the soundtrack of Brother Bear, and for the song being on continual repeat for hours on the Bus in Baja Mexico (: </div><div>And this song, surprisingly enough, is one of my modivatonal lyrical devices that sums up what I´m intending to do here, in a very cheesy and phil collins-ey way. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-29545375003386537732009-09-07T13:40:00.000-07:002009-09-13T17:06:47.912-07:00Second day : I can already feel my spanish improving, but ¨como, que, repite¨ is really all i say. Everyone plays the guitar and knows American bands; I think i´ll have to learn myself. Today I went for a ride in the car to see the centro and to a neigboring city; i went to the park with Sara´s friends, and later to the icecream shop where about 30 16-17 year olds meet everyday at 6:30. And then they go to the caseta or the park or a movie, today we walked around the farms in Tres Cantos.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-45131448752664329012009-09-06T14:27:00.000-07:002009-09-17T03:40:09.885-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCjkL_SnYlWExW_GCKfJPa1lAmtQ8_Xp0uYz9Spho-CMrtzQDxMZmzQ4aer0V10NYUSTrok8iERK17BmxUcWw3cXCvftuHDtIpxlWyTDK6Jqj3d3t6w13V6b95xU7PcMeHDboLTfK9sY/s1600-h/DSCN3031.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCjkL_SnYlWExW_GCKfJPa1lAmtQ8_Xp0uYz9Spho-CMrtzQDxMZmzQ4aer0V10NYUSTrok8iERK17BmxUcWw3cXCvftuHDtIpxlWyTDK6Jqj3d3t6w13V6b95xU7PcMeHDboLTfK9sY/s320/DSCN3031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382384300847470546" /></a><br />Well its my first day; i feel like its been a lifetime though. Everyone is nice, friendly, wonderful, but in Spanish of course. My flight was uneventful, i slept and left, but after leaving customs, i don´t think ´´uneventful´´ can be in my vocabulary for the rest of this week. Its different: pink toilet paper, dinner at 10 (full sized pizzas for each person?!) , soccer after dark, everyone plays the guitar. Its all wonderful, its all different. But thats the point, right?Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946071568835631003.post-51743796952592058922009-08-25T09:18:00.000-07:002009-09-13T17:08:00.436-07:00Before..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq0IfFMqY5pOG8y3tL-8akJSvVgq_FPbiijSMcNVb-2cAAm40RPLLosYaeGL-7R2_tqm5NC_g6jXD6qT2EPXyc0uN4Vmv9SEx67ItpMiyONpS1KeD-iLtzpLIS7wmE2wQ48YZIVFjj_c/s1600-h/attach.msc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq0IfFMqY5pOG8y3tL-8akJSvVgq_FPbiijSMcNVb-2cAAm40RPLLosYaeGL-7R2_tqm5NC_g6jXD6qT2EPXyc0uN4Vmv9SEx67ItpMiyONpS1KeD-iLtzpLIS7wmE2wQ48YZIVFjj_c/s320/attach.msc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373946206286629682" border="0" /></a><br />11 full days left in Madison. Its going so quickly, and I'm trying to fit in everything in before i head off to Tres Cantos, Spain (Pictured above). My to-do list is longer than any I have had before, and my sleep hours are weirder than they have been in a long time, but I'm enjoying Madison and all of its little-town-ness. I am trying to improve my Spanish before I leave: 20 minutes of univision, channel 6 TV helps a bit, and my newest vocab words:<br />parir: to give birth, pesar: regret, desafico: challenge, fregadero: kitchen sink.<br />maybe some of these will somehow be useful?<br />Well, I have my visa, I have my ticket, my host family and host school, so its all in place. So... 11 days, 11 days.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02805767191810033342noreply@blogger.com0