Part 2

This is still going to be just text, I'll be explaining the next couple days that were spent in my dad Javi's pueblo called Albacete, the "New York" of "La Mancha" (literally, the blanket) of Spain.

The only reason that Albacete is called the New York is because in the flat, nothingness of eastern Spain, the taller buildings in Albacete stand out. It's really a fairly ugly and typical city. They replaced many of the old, historical buildings in the town with modern apartment buildings and businesses, gray and brown monstrosities that dwarf the smaller, charming old buildings next to them. Ana's parents are both from Albacete, and her parents used to live in buildings across the street from one another. That's how they first fell in love- looking through the windows into the other's homes, both prominent families, seeking out the other. At least, that's how the story is told. The reason that the family goes back each year, however, is because of Javi's family, all of his brothers and sisters except one still live in the city with their families. It's a 2 hour drive, so we swept out of the house at about 12:30 in order to get there for La Comida, the most important meal of the day, and how to really celebrate Christmas. I slept for most of the car ride and we walked up the stairs and into my Aunt Marisa's apartment at about 2:30. The apartment was heavily decorated, with a ridiculous amount of pictures on the walls, statues, blankets, throw pillows, all coated with a sort of sweet, dense scent that I'll forever identify with her apartment. It reminded me a lot of my Grandma Roma's house, the kind we've all been in at least once, with mirrored medicine cabinet filled with bottles and boxes from the 50's and 60's that I'm sure would sell on eBay. Powder blue walls, lacey beddings, terrifying sewn "dolls", and knitted, obnoxiously colored blankets are some of the other characteristics of these types of houses. I felt right at home :)

My Tia Marisa lives in the apartment by herself, so having it suddenly filled with 5 other bodies for three days put her a little bit on edge. The rest of the family arrived fairly soon, 2 more sets of aunts and uncles, a distant cousin, and one of our first cousins. All of the cousins are older in the family, the youngest is 24. Jacobo shines at the family gatherings, as he's the youngest and by far the most precious, and I don't think he minds the attention. We ate very well that first day, roasted almonds and fine cheese being two of the highlights. There's no way not to stuff yourself. If you deny more food, they either look at you like you've just run over their dog, or they ignore your request and just pile the next giant turkey leg onto your plate anyways. Immediately after lunch, we watched some TV and then Bea and I went out with Marta (the 24 year old cousin) that night to some of the local bars and generally just walked around. It hasn't stopped raining in Spain for a week, I swear, so I've become accustomed to walking around with an umbrella everywhere I go. We spent the next day exploring Albacete and then had a lunch with all of the cousins at an Italian restaraunt, 8 of us in total in attendance, with two or three in other parts of the world. It was the first dinner with cousins that they've ever had, quite distinct from the other side of the family. They talked for a while about American politics and lifestyle, one of them having lived in Washington D.C. for two years and commenting how the days were far too structured and rigid for him. I can understand that better now having seen the Spanish structure of the day, flexible and relaxed, a little of this a little of that, always with a glass of wine or time for a quick nap. The fast pace of life in the U.S, particularly in D.C, could quite easily overwhelm a Spaniard. We wrapped up the night curled up in the living room, with Jacobo rolling in laughter at Mulan, which he had never seen before, with me laughing like a fool right next to him.

Bea and I awoke the next morning and we all got ready to visit a pueblo right next to Albacete called Chinchilla, which is famous for it's homes in caves. They are literally homes built into the sides of the mountains and terrain, practical and simple, and we walked around on the one sunny day in weeks, admiring the large old buildings and churches, and witnessing how Albacete does stick out significantly on the flat land. We spent the rest of the night back in Albacete hunting for high heels for Bea (she's very specific... they can't be too high of a heel because she's quite tall and can't balance, they have to be a certain color and material) for New Years Eve, and then the immediate family gathered at a local restaurant. It was a hole in the wall, very discreet, and completely packed. There was one little old man behind the counter who you put in all your orders to and then his little old wife in the kitchen cooks everything up. It was tiny, maybe 5 tables and very traditional and Spanish, bull fighters pictures on the wall, everything painted a dull yellow, the traditional dishes being bull's tail, shrimp, or cod (and one plate of square, gray, squishy blocks which my dad called "sangre" which literally means blood and made me incredibly nervous). Jacobo and I played the entire way home, my boots made a clicking noise on the sidewalk and Jacobo designed little rythymns on the pavement, jumping every few steps, Ana smiling at us and both of us laughing and chattering in Spanish. I realized later that night that I'd been speaking in all Spanish the entire weekend and I didn't even notice, it's become so natural.

Ana, Bea, and I went home the next morning, the 28th, thanking Aunt Marisa and having slept and relaxed enough in the past week for the enitre year. That's what Christmas vacation is for, I guess. Jacobo stayed in Albacete with my dad, they'll return on the 30th. These past two days, I chatted with my family at home on Skype, catching up on the normal antics (particularly those of the beloved Bruce). I miss my family in Nerstrand but I'm falling more and more in love with the family here. I went to my friend Robi's last night for a Spanish horror movie and Italian coffees. Bea and I are celebrating New Years in a "hotel" decked out as a club. We're going to my grandpa's other house in Madrid for a dinner and then out and about until the wee hours of the morning, which is the only appropriate, Spanish way. Pictures will be uploaded very soon, more ridiculously long blogs to come, there's too much to remember and love about these Holiday seasons-- no snow, but cold-- not the normal, but wonderful.

Besitos y Besitos, Sami

Part 1

FELIZ NAVIDAD!

I'm going to document Christmas in a few parts, since they were all pretty distinct for me and the camera with all the photos is in my dad's pueblo in Eastern Spain (that'll be explained later). This entry will be entirely text recounting the past week or so.

The first real event was Christmas Eve, which in some ways is a bigger deal than Christmas day. It's called Nochebuena, and it's traditionally the night where the family gathers to celebrate the religious aspect of the holiday. Since Spain is largely Catholic, the story of Jesus' birth is recounted many times in many different manners, there are Nativity Scenes set up everywhere that you turn and all the little kids have at least one or two plays recounting the story. We all got very dressed up and went to my Grandpa's house in Las Matas which is inbetween Madrid and Majadahonda. My grandpa was a successful architect in his life, so he has space to accomodate the entire family.... 42 of us in total, 23 first cousins alone. When we got there, the normally freezing house was warm with bodies and the heat from the kitchen and just general joy and anticipation. It was, in some ways, similar to a made-for-TV movie with every family member hugging the other and giving the 2 traditional kisses. In the middle of it all, my Grandpa was standing with his normal, thick, knitted dark green and blue sweater, with his hands behind his back, humming pretty loudly, but to himself. I wonder what he could have been feeling or thinking with all those souls, small and large gathered around him enjoying one another, knowing that he had ultimately made it all possible.

Los Reyes Magos (or the Three Kings) bring the gifts to the children here in Spain. Santa Claus exists (Papa Noel) but he is considered more "American" and is celebrated in "modern" households (those were the exact words Bea used to describe it to me... I'm not quite sure what it means). The Three Kings don't bring the gifts until the night of the 6th of January, we wake up on the 7th and find them. However, in this family, they also bring one gift for each child and hide it somewhere in the house. One by one the kids start sniffing around for the presents, they slowly form a sort of parade, streaming in and out of rooms with aunts guiding the little ones and eventually the entire family following behind, searching for the room with the gifts. Eventually, we found the room, each cousin has a wrapped present with their name on it. Bea recieved pajamas, Jacobo a telescope, and I got a small bag and makeup. My grandfather gives each of his grandchildren 50 euros, and I was included in that as well, a great relief for a broke exchange student. All the smaller cousins ducked in and out of their parents legs and escaped aunts reaching for sloppy kisses, posing quickly for pictures and then moving back to their new dolls or lego sets. It was general chaos and extremely hot, with wrapping paper flying in every possible direction and flashes of cameras hitting you when you least expected it.

Eventually we moved to another part of the house, where we usually eat meals and congregate every Saturday, and formed a circle, each person holding a wrapped present. This was my favorite part of the evening, the Secret Santa gift exchange. The Spanish are known for their fiestas, they're known for their lively and rowdy dispositions. But I've never seen anything like this. One by one they chant a cousin's name, staring with the youngest who is only 3 months old. That person walks (or in Pilar's case, is carried) into the center and your Secret Santa, the other cousin meets you in the middle and hands you the gift. With the entire family hooting and hollering ("It's a book!" "It's a box!" "It's a book in a box!") the cousin opens their gift, poses for a few hasty photos and then is swept out of the center with the next cousin's name being chanted. I was inserted where Javi normally is and my older cousin Begonia gave me a fantastic scarf, one that I genuinely love. It's understood that the parents shop for the gifts of the Secret Santas, so I thanked my aunt as well as Begonia for the gift, being chanted on and whistled at like all the rest. The respective parents then exchange all their gifts, the six adult couples trade within each other and the entire family pitches in for one giant present for the Abuelo. Everyone was laughing and cheering, some of the smaller boys immediately adorning their Batman and Spiderman suits and running wildly ducking and stabbing at invisible enemies, while the older family members teased one another and swept off to the dinner.

Downstairs an enormous table was set with 36 places, a smaller table off to the side for the young cousins who prefer to sit with each other... the "little kids table" in my family at home. We dined on soup and whole shrimp with mayo (I discovered that it's against the law to sell pre-peeled shrimp when they are the larger variety, the peels and eyes and legs all are testament to how fresh the animal is). We ate various kinds of meat, several types of cakes and pies, drank CocaCola and water and ate the finest bread with the finest cheese. The older cousins went back upstairs for a while, to recouperate and escape the noise and just enjoy one another's company for a while. I have a cousin named Joaquin who is convinced that a type of bracelet that he wears helps maintain his balance and equilibrium, so we enjoyed ourselves testing his theories (all of which I failed miserably, surprise surprise).

We went back downstairs eventually to watch the littler kids put on a small rendition of the Christmas Story that Jacobo had written. Jacobo is a very serious 10-year-old and takes his acting in the same regard. He was intent on having a lovely production, and got a little frustrated when the 6-year-old Angel started climbing on top of the stable when he was supposed to be holding guard over it on a chair. The play was all around adorable and hilarious, however, all the parents cheered and whooped, and it was performed a second time, just for extra clarity :) Some Christmas Carols were sung (although in Spanish they're more like party songs, a celebration as opposed to a quiet, solemn reminder that we have in Silent Night and the First Noel). We all made it back home at about 2:30, spoiling my cousins' plans to go out to clubs later that night. I've found that no night is sacred from the Spanish fiesta here, people find any reason at all to party until the sun comes up. Considering that Bea and I had to wake up the next day (Christmas day) to go to my dad's pueblo, we wouldn't have probably gone anyways, but I was still pretty shocked just at the idea. We all left one another with 2 kisses, 2 besos, and sat content on the ride home, discussing nothing at all, I was in total awe at the entire night, knowing then and there that this would be one of those things I'd look back on with a giant smile and a peace and testament to how valuable these years abroad and this cultural adventure really is.

llega la nieve

The picture on the left was taken September 15, 2009

The picture on the right was taken December 21, 2009

Merry Christmas, Madrid :)

I awoke this morning with a complete and utter lack of motivation to get my butt out of bed and go to school. I made myself get up, saying, "Self, you have one real day of school left before a nice, long break. Suck it up."

Who would've guessed it?

Madrid and the surrounding cities (including Majadahonda) recieved about 6 cm of snow today. I'm accustomed to snow, obviously, coming from the barren Midwestern plains covered in feet and feet of the fluffy, white delight. So I slipped on the best shoes I had and braved the 15 minute trek to school. Spain is, to say the least, NOT equipped for snow. Either they don't know to put salt down on the roads and sidewalks, or they're just not equipped to do so before all the hubub of the morning begins. Majadahonda is famous for it's hills, and cars were literally break-sliding all the way down them. I walked calmly along the ice and snow, listening to Elvis Christmas Carols and glad that I had forced myself out of bed. Upon arrival, the entire school was outside, engaged in a giant snow battle. There wasn't one car in the parking lot, no teachers had even bothered. The doors were locked and kids were dodging in and out of one another avoiding giant snowballs (it was the fat flakes that are perfect for packing). I spent half an hour at school, once getting hit in the face and ducking behind various, larger friends to avoid complete destruction. At one point, my American friend Jesse threw a snowball at me, and being clever, I lifted up one foot to try to peg it in midair. Another brilliant plan, Another epic failure. I went bum up in the snow, both boots in the air, landing on my backpack (which fortunately cushioned the fall a bit) and was helped up seconds later by my friend Adrian-- me, him, and the rest of the school that had seen the fall were laughing hysterically. My friend Jesse told me that regardless of what else happened that snowday, I had just made it all worth it for him. At least it served for something :) I have to tell you... Some things have no hope of ever changing :) I've spent the rest of the day contently tucked in with Bea watching TV and eating an ungodly amount. You know, like you do.

Merry Christmas, Madrid

XO Sami

(L) <-- The "text messaging" manner of saying LOVE in Spain :)

Saturday night out on the town with the Americans. The girl on the far left is Emma, she's one of my best friends here in Spain. Next to her is Nikki, then me, then a Spanish friend of ours named David. This was taken at a McDonald's in the Opera area of Madrid. Yes, I still eat at McDonald's, even across the ocean :)

This is one of the streets of Majadahonda. These lights are strung everywhere in the Madrid area, this one is on the street right outside of my house.

My good friend Javi and I at a local Irish Bar on Friday night. We played pool and I shocked myself at my skill level. Apparently, those nights at Grandma and Grandpa's pool table payed off for something

The Virgin Mary at Jacobo's play on Wednesday night. She was a little miss attitude, let me tell you, docile was not the best word to describe her :)

Two of the stable animals singing their Christmas Carol with their Sunday School class

The Nativity Scene. Jacobo is the king with the orange robe and blonde hair

Two of the Three Kings whispering during the service. If you look closely you'll see Jacobo's watch on his left hand... As was written in the Bible, of course :)

One of my favorite little Christmas decorations in the house

The window in my room is covered with stick-on snowflakes... Not quite the real thing, but close enough!

My desk. The snowman was provided by my host family, the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree was sent to me by my family back home

The table set for a Sunday Meal... We had fondue (sp?) that day and discovered that my host family had been placing the fondue pots upside down for 20 years!

felicidades

Since it's become routine to write up a blog once a week at this point, by the next entry Christmas will have come and gone. In Spain, there is a much heavier focus on family than on commericalism, in comparison with the United States. Obviously, there is a whole lot of love in my family at home, there are scores of cousins running in circles around each other and aunts talking over other aunts who are simultaneously directing children and husbands who just wanna watch the football game, but A Christmas Story always inevitably gets put on. Grandma makes way too much food and the basement is always a disaster after the girls have been down there. I walk into peace and calm at Grandma Jan's house, the entire house is warm, the kitchen is full, and Dad has to roll around in a sweater to collect the dog hairs off the floor for various relatives and their allergies. My family at home is utterly irreplacable.

I'm realizing, after being here for some time now, however, that everyone has a family story like this. Everyone has something they hold on to, something that makes their Christmas, their Easter, their whatever, just a little more special to them. The house is decorated, I woke up about a week ago to Jacobo flying around with garland in one hand and the Baby Jesus in the other, huffing and puffing for me to "moooveeee sammiii!!!!" The tree is adorned with "adornos" (go figure) and my host mom made me my own little stocking just like the rest of the family has. There are Nativitiy scenes EVERYWHERE in Spain, because there is also a more prominent religious focus as it is a "Catholic" country. The Nativity scene above is in the entryway of my house, the first thing you see when you open the door. Ana (my host mom) told me that she and her sisters painted the statues themselves. There are little reminders of Christmas all over the apartment, which makes some of the brash, over the top decorations in the U.S. seem excessive and almost distasteful. Christmas is a little more subtle here, but you can definitely feel it wherever you go.

I went to Jacobo's Christmas Play at Church on Wednesday. The sanctuary was jam packed with small children and their parents and grandparents, they did a very tiny rendition of the Christmas Story (Jacobo played one of the three kings... SIDE NOTE: In Spain, the Three Kings bring you your gifts (Los Reyes Magos) and they bring them on the night of January 6. Santa also exists here, and in some houses he brings some gifts on December 24, but in most families (including mine) the gift exchanging takes place on the morning of January 7, which also happens to be my birthday, so I scored on that one :). You can see the pictures of Jacobo in the next blog, it'll be all pictures. After the Christmas Story there was a time when all the different Sunday School classes got up and sang their Christmas Carol they had prepared. Some are American Christmas Carols with the lyrics tranlsated into Spanish... We sang Feliz Navidad several times, which was particularly hilarious because, just like our pronunciation is awful in English of the "Feliz Navidad" part, the packed room of little kids couldn't for the life of them sing the English part. "I wanna weeeesh you a merry (with the r's rolled) chreestmaas from duh..bbuhba....arrt.... FELIZ NAVIDAD". I was doing my best to hold back tears in silent laughter.

Friday night was spent out with my friends from school, the same group of pals that I'm with all the time; we're getting to be really close now. We stayed in Majadahonda because none of us was feeling like braving the cold weather for the trip into Madrid, where you often have to stand outside in long lines before you can get in anywhere. We ate together at Domino's and told hilarious jokes ("How do you put a giraffe in the refridgerator?" ... "You open the door and put him in." ... "How do you put an elephant in the refidgerator?" ... "You open the door, take out the giraffe, and put the elephant in.") They mistook my lack of hilarious laughter for not understanding. I understood it all, it was just so unbelievably ridiculous :) Saturday night I went into Madrid and hung around with some of the American exchange students. We've made some really good mutual friends here in Spain, one of them named Jennifer, that always come with us whenever we go out. That's fantastic because 1.) it's one more great friend we've all made here and 2.) it takes away some of the guilt of hanging out with Americans. What I'm learning is that this trip is far too short to spend any of it wrapped up in guilt of any kind. This year is about making it into your own, not Rotary's standards, not the other exchange student's standards or your host family's. This is a time when you can be incredibly selfish and know that it's the right way to be.

The Rotary kids in my hometown of Northfield, Minnesota just found out where they are all assigned for the upcoming year. Out of the 19 applicants! all of them got accepted-- though no one is going to Spain next year, we range the rest of the globe from Taiwan to Norway to Columbia. I specifically remember the ear shattering scream that accompanied my acceptance letter and dancing ridiculously around Amber Woitalla's basement with my cell phone in hand and a deaf mother on the other end. I still have moments like that here in Spain... Life is normal, life is routine, but it's a life in Spain, and it's utterly thrilling

FELIZ NAVIDAD y Besos

Sami

how to save a life

December is typically a difficult month for exchange students. There's the familiarity of family that you miss, the smallest details suddenly seem incredibly important (yet they never mattered to you before), your language is almost there, you can feel it, but those last stutters and verb conjugation confusions still make their way into your daily sentences, which, 3-4 months in, seems unnecessary. So it's easy to let yourself slip into a mentality of "being down" because you know that you're "supposed to"; that it's totally normal to feel bad so you let yourself feel bad. I'm not a big fan of this concept.

It's fundamental to feel the whole, wide range of emotions that come with an exchange year-- they're part of you're experience just as much as a specific, special trip or a daily routine that you walk away remembering. The idea is, that if you can fight through the difficult parts, you come out appreciating all the more the great things about your exchange. But somewhere along that path of just letting the year happen to you, I've realized that you have to take a grip of your year-- You have to learn how to save a life, your own. One of the most important things I was told in the giant whirlwind of preparation for this year was that you have to take care of yourself and assure the success of your exchange, because when it comes down to it you're the key to your own achievements. For me, this has meant appreciating every tiny action or comment... My family gave me an advent calender and made me a little stocking to hang on the tree like the rest of the family, because when it comes down to it, I am part of the family. Jacobo and I are cleaning the fish tank again and I've spent the weekend with some of my best friends here in Spain... Genuine friends, not just the kind you make because "friends are important to every exchange student", I honestly adore these people. I did get incredibly lucky with many aspects of this year in Spain, but I also created my own success in many ways as well. Things are changing, and that's ok.

This week was a lot like any other week. Because we didn't have school Monday or Tuesday, the rest of the school week was pretty relaxed as well. For example, two teachers didn't show up on Wednesday because they were still tired and wanted just that little bit more of a break. Very typical Spanish :) As I was walking to school on Thursday (running late, as always) my friend Adrian joined me on the trek up that last terrible hill before the school building, and teasingly told me I was late. I, of course, pointed out that he was just as late and he corrected me saying, "No, no. Spanish people are never late. We just get there at different times." I'd say that captures the spirit of Spain pretty darn well. Nothing is concrete, don't stress over it.

My exchange student friends and I have shared some hilarious stories over the silly aspects of our years abroad, particularly what triggers us to just lose it and break down, which are often the most ridiculous of things. For example, my friend Devon was telling me how her brother sent her a giant email of pictures and little memories for Christmas, and she made it through the entire thing with a smile on her face and a content, peaceful feeling. In the post script, p.s., he put a picture of the pet cat sitting on the couch, looking ticked off to have it's photo taken and inevitably "j-ing" it's tail (as my dad likes to say), a universal symbol of ticked-off-ness of cats. She said she saw that last picture, after 10-12 of her family and home and friends, she scrolled down to the upset cat and completely lost it, sobbing and crying. Because of the cat. My other friend Emma had a similar experience with the "Charlie Brown Christmas" soundtrack (which I think she was a bit of a fool for putting herself through in the first place... A Charlie Brown Christmas? Come on, guaranteed break down). My encounter with the pangs of homesickness unexpectedly snuck up on me on a walk through Madrid on Saturday night. There was a string street quartet playing Eine Kliene Nachtmusik, a famous orchestral piece that I've played many times back home. So, surrounded by happy Spaniards bustling along with their children in ridiculous reindeer hats and lovey-dovey couples holding gloved hands, surrounded by the joy of christmas in a random street corner in the middle of Madrid, I shed a little tear for Northfield and Nerstrand back home. It was just enough, a private moment between me and myself. I gave the quartet 5 euros.

On the docket for this week is an appointment to work out some more papers for Spanish residency, a funk concert with my friends from school on Friday, and a trip to El Rastro street market on Sunday. Many of my pals went today (including Mackenzie O'Connell, my friend who is on exchange through Rotary to Germany... She came to visit this weekend with her German host family, it was unbelievable to see her. That's one of the major advantages of living in Spain and, more specifically, Madrid. I mean, who doesn't want to come visit Madrid?) but because I was feeling a little sick and didn't wanna risk getting a full blown illness and also because I haven't seen enough of my host family this weekend, I decided to sit this one out. Which is also something that's alright to do. It's part of being comfortable, it's part of embracing your own, individual, specific joy and success. Learning what's right for you. And being content with it.

Love and Love, Sami

it's beginning...

... not really to look like Christmas, per se... at least not the midwest christmas that I'm accustomed to. But that's certainly not a bad thing, it's just different. The lights are all strung up in Madrid, it's absolutely gorgeous, similar to NYC right around Christmastime. Yesterday and today (the 7th and 8th of December) we don't have school because today is a national holiday of some sort, don't ask me which, I swear they invent saints just to stick their name on the calender and call it an occassion. It seems a little silly to go to school on Monday if Tuesday is off so we didn't have classes yesterday either. Having said that, I had a successful trip to the post office this morning to pick up a package from the fam and buy $10 worth of stamps (they're 78 euro cents here for international postage... I wonder what the word for "outrageous" is in Spanish) and dropped some postcards in the mail. It's the small trips, like the one to the post office, that really highlight how much of a different country you're in. The most unimportant details can be the biggest challenges with language barriers and cultural misunderstandings. I think the post office runs, the trips to pick up public transportation at the local tobacco shop (called Bonobus here in Madrid... 12 euros gets me 10 rides anywhere in the Madrid area... quite the steal), and the meanderings down back streets, stopping to ask for directions are what an exchange student gets that the normal tourist doesn't... An honest sense of community and a definite confirmation of personal growth.




The first trimester of school is officially over, having been given our report cards (which still need to be signed by a parent/guardian and sent back to the school, even at the highest level of education). Spain is not as technologically advanced as the U.S. by any means. The big, fancy projecter that we have in one room of our school, the library, I had in every room back in Northfield. Grades are not offered electronically and, though the school has a website, it is not maintained or kept up to date. I like this in one sense, it's a more simplistic way of doing things, staying true to Spain's relaxed and easygoing environment. However, there seems to be little effort at technological development or progression, and that can be frustrating when papers get lost, messages get miscommunicated, and the exchange student has to try to scramble and pick up the pieces. For example, we have a computer in our house but no printer. So anytime it would be convenient (or necessary) to print off directions, an entrance to a concert, a document from college, etc, it has to go through my mom or my sister at work or university... I do miss that convenience about the United States. I'm learning the difference between missing things and mourning over things, for lack of a better word. You can miss something and have it in your mind without obsessing over it and having those sinking, depressing feelings. Missing doesn't have to be a bad thing.




On Wednesdays here in Madrid (and maybe in all of Spain?) everything at a local restaurant called 100 Montaditos is 1 euro. 100 Montaditos is famous for it's bocadillos, little sandwiches made on amazing bread, usually toasted, and with whatever your heart desires in the center. I typically order an array of chicken, cheese, tomato, and Spanish chorizo (similar to salami) sandwiches. They come with potato chips and all drinks are also 1 euro, so I always accompany my order with a Kas Limon, similar to Fanta Limon. It's sort of silly NOT to take advantage of Wednesdays at 100 montaditos so I always find someone to go with, be it friends from my class, other exchange kids, my host sister, or anyone else that I can drag along. This past Wednesday I went into Madrid to celebrate with one of my good friends here, Emma, for her 18th birthday, which was this past Friday. She brought two of her good friends from school, Paula and Luis, and my other American friend Devon came and brought her friend Marta from school. We talked in an exhilarating mixture of Spanish and English, Spanglish at it's very best. We all got along right away, we all had a lot of things in common... Funny how that can happen when you're born oceans apart. Who knew?

Other than that, Christmas is fast approaching and I'm doing some hunting for the host family and family back home. The best place for all gifts is at El Rastro, the street market that takes place every Sunday in Madrid, because you can find good quality, one of a kind goodies for little to nothing.... and in a pricey european culture, that's much appreciated. My friend Grayce who was living here (across the street... crazy coincidence, remember her?) is going home this Wednesday. It's yet another reminder of how flexible and concrete time is. It bends into how we want it to be percieved, but sneakily keeps marching along all the while. I went to Luna Nueva (New Moon) with my host sister Bea because she really wanted to see it and I'll take any chance either one of us can get to hang out together. Expectedly, I really didn't enjoy the movie at all, but it was nice getting some time to talk to her again. We genuinely do get along fantastically, if we can squeeze in the seconds to hang out. We also went shopping with my host mom on Saturday after being at my grandpa's for a few hours and on Friday I was out all night with some exchange student friends celebrating some birthdays. My friend Adrian at school told me I must sing "happy birthday" better than anyone because I'm always attending birthday parties. What can I say? :)

Life is Gorgeous, Una Vida Preciosa

Besos, Sami

It was quite a confusing Thanksgiving dinner, I can tell you that much. There were potatoes, turkey, and apples, though not in the typical fashion served mashed, sliced, and in a pie. Spain's Rotary program served a giant dinner for all the kids in the Madrid area. It was hosted in the same location that my last meeting was held, except there were so many people in attendance at this meeting we took up the entire upper floor of the building, I'd say there had to be at least 120 people there. All the exchange students were invited in the Madrid area and most brought their host families; my host mom Ana came with me, and we looked ridiculously similar in black cocktail dresses, black high heels, and black leather jackets. There were a lot of formalities, announcing how so-and-so had contributed such-and-such amount to a Polio fund in another so-and-so's name... The uninteresting, but important announcements that every organization like Rotary is bound to include. We were then served a dinner fashioned after the typical American thanksgiving meal... but didn't quite hit the mark. My plate was filled with an enormous turkey leg (think Caveman), with a delicate slice of apple covered in whipped potatoes topped with parsley... All of which was drenched in a sauce resembling gravy. None of this is said in a "complaining" manner, the food was delicious and the company was fantastic, and skyping with the family when I got home made for an all-around lovely evening. Somehow, I got nominated and pushed to the front of the crowd of exchange kids to give a speech (in Spanish) in front of the entire group, which ended up being surprisingly a lot easier than I would have thought. The Spanish is really moving right along :)

Friday night there was a surprise birthday party for Bea at one of the local restaurants in town (Vips) which she was utterly.. uh... surprised by and was a nice break for her in the monotony of the weekend. She's really cracking down on her studies now, she holed up in the house Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to prepare for two tests next week and get done a massive amount of "trabajos" or projects involving mathematics and physics as she's studying to be an Architect. Walking into her room one encounters a maze of origami sculptures and giant floor plans laid out in the tiniest of detail. She's a fantastic student, the dinner was well deserved and I'm glad we could put on that big of a surprise for her.

Saturday night I went to a concert in Madrid that I've been looking forward to for a long time. The band is called Muse, they're English but really popular in the United States. My friend Joe (who is an exchange kid from the same district in the United States but is living in Southern Spain along the Meditteranean coast in the region of Alicante) flew up to Madrid to attend the show with me. It was held in the "Palacio de Deportes", one of the many stadiums in Madrid devoted to soccer. We were pretty close to the stage and the music and performance was unreal... For the encore the entire crowd was jumping and chanting "ole ole ole" and when the show was completley over, smoke shot up from the stage and the lead singer of the band raised the Spanish flag high. It was absolutely one of the highlights of my trip thus far.

The lights have been put up for Christmas in Madrid, they hang along practically every street and adorn lampposts and giant buildings and pretty much anything else that will hold a christmas decoration. The streets are gorgeous and lit up, it makes me appreciate how fast the holiday season is approaching and how quickly it will fly by... Which is turning out to be pretty representative of my trip abroad at this point. I love Spain and everything that it has given me, I can only imagine how much more there is to see, smell, hear, and taste. There is a soccer game tonight... this is a big one, folks, Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. The biggest rivalry in Spain. I'm beyond excited. Hasta Luego Amigos Mios, Besos a Todos, Sami

The Day(s) of Giving Thanks

The dashing gentlemen shown are a few of my greatest friends here in Spain. Daniel, Javier, Adrian, and I went to a local concert on a Saturday night and spoke in intermittent English, Spanish, and a universal language that can't be given a name other than laughter and understanding. It's almost too much to ask for better friends than those that I have here in Spain... I've never been welcomed with such open arms. That is one of the main distinctions between the United States and Spain that I have noticed in terms of schooling; I can honestly tell you that I haven't encountered bullying here and I've been asking around with the other exchange kids and they all report similar experiences. A kid that would probably suffer some real torture in the U.S. because of a manner of dress or an unfortunate haircut or a lifestyle choice just is another member of the class here. I'd never realized how "cliquey" America was until I ran into a much more authentic form of acceptance halfway across the world.

This week was filled with yet more realizations, ups and downs, delicious food, and impossible happiness. One of the greatest things I've encountered in the Spanish schooling system is that when a teacher is sick or absent from school, there's no replacement or substitute. That class is considered a free period and the students can do with it whatever they like. I've found that in general kids here seem to take more responsibility for their own actions; studying is considered much more crucial than in the U.S. and if you do poorly on a test, you determine whether or not you get to go out that night-- my best friend Alicia has kept herself from going out several weekends because of a bad grade or if she just thinks that she could've done better. I never saw that sort of iniative back home, kids took advantage of whatever opportunities they were given to go out; that's not the case here. Because grades don't count for me, however, I'm finding plenty of opportunities to go out and enjoy myself in this beautiful country.

This past week proved to be fairly uneventful, a walk down to my Gran Via to get photos taken for my Residency papers or a trip to pick up postcards (to be mailed soon, by the way) were nice little breaks in the everyday, but considering the everyday is pretty ideal here, I don't really need any breaks from it :) I acknowledge that the "Rotary RollerCoaster" is a real concept, based on a whole lot of experiences. It's a curve that most exchange students follow and predicts what will be the toughest times and where you'll flourish. But the lows that every exchange student is supposed to hit don't wham me all that hard because I have a lot of support and a lot of fantastic things surrounding me to where I can usually pick myself up out of any slump pretty easily. Some of that is luck and some of that is personal initiative and growth, and for that I'm truly proud.

Friday night was spent at Adrian's house watching "The Grudge 2" (a horror film) in Spanish, which proved to be more hilarious than frightening. Alicia and I were falling all over ourselves with laughter, the whole night proved to be one that anyone would have a hard time forgetting. Sunday was my host father's birthday, so my family went to his pueblo (side note: everyone here has a "pueblo" or a small village from where their grandparents or great grandparents came or even where they themselves were raised. People that live in big cities or even more residential areas usually find their way back to their pueblos for important family gatherings as that is where a grandparent or a large majority of the family is situated). My host father's pueblo is in Albeceite which is directly to the East of Madrid about two hours. That left Bea and I home alone for the weekend. It was a little thrilling and a little scary that we each just completely did our own thing over our two days. At this point we have our own friends, just like any siblings, but we're still comfortable hanging out with each other as well. It's turning out to be a really nice balance.

During the day on Saturday I went into the city and met up with some exchange students for what turned out to be a lovely outing. We started our day by picking up Chinese food in what appeared to be a parking garage but ended up being THE place to get authentic Chinese in Madrid. We took it to go and sat by a fountain (the one I'm sitting in front of in the picture above) and ate more than should ever be allowed. My Spanish has developed more quickly than a lot of the other exchange students, so I'm often asked to go with to shops or to order things because I got lucky with that extra edge of proficiency. I went with my friend Emma to pick up her ticket for the concert we later went and saw; Andrew Bird who is an American artist, but has a really interesting and eclectic sound, building his entire concerts alone based off of playing different instruments, like the guitar, violin, or chimes, and recording the different beats and sounds and compiling them, all the while singing along. The music itself was fantastic and the crowd was great. Unfortunately, sitting behind Emma and I were two girls that epitomized the reason that some foreigners hate America. These two college-aged girls in their entirely inappropriate miniskirts and heels and drank and talked incredibly loudly through the entire concert (in English, nonetheless), completely distrupting the alternative, relaxed atmosphere. Just to top it off, their boyfriends cheered and warwhooped stupidly, wearing striped polos with their collars popped and hair entirely too gelled. By the time the show was over, that half of the club was completely empty and I was about ready to revoke my American passport and officially join the Spanish revolution. For goodness sake.

Sunday I woke up incredibly early and sprinted to the train station with my exchange friend Jesse that lives in Majadahonda to join Rotary on an excursion to Soria, a small, ancient town about 2 hours from Madrid. The bus trip proved to be a bit of a pain as some of the older Rotarians told "jokes" the entire way there and cackled into the microphone. Still I'm since in hyper-translation mode, it's difficult for me to tune any of them out and so the sleep that I'd been hoping to catch up on during the bus ride proved to be pretty fruitless. I am developing some incredible friends here in Spain, however, and the company that I kept all day long was enough to make up for just about anything. We went to an exhibition first, which was pretty interesting, though not at all what we were expecting. It encompassed Christianity and the perceptions of the religion in four "seasons" and featured a lot of really cool old statues, tapestries, and paintings. We had, however, just gotten off what proved to be a 3 hour bus ride, we were all running a little low on blood sugar, and the tour guide talked insanely quickly. Regardless, I'm thankful for the opportunity to see anything and everything. We had a delicious 3 course meal later and wandered around some small towns, concluding the night with a stop in an ancient old village (I forget the name) where we danced through the streets and could just feel the memories being made. The pictures of the sunset and at nighttime are in that small town.

We'll just have to see about Thanksgiving, or el Dia de Accion de Gracias (the day of the action of giving thanks, literally translated :). Obviously, they don't celebrate it here but I'm hopeful and thankful, as Rotary has organized a dinner and a lot of these people are really starting to feel like family to me. It's all about keepin on keepin on and when you're situated in Spain, I can't say it's all that difficult. Slip into a turkey coma for me though, will you? :)

Besitos, Sami

The symbol for Madrid is a bear standing on it's hind legs next to the Madrone tree. No one here can seem to explain to me why this is the symbol of Madrid... and internet searches have proven to be pretty fruitless. The main statue of "El Oso y El Madrono" is in la Puerta de Sol, a famous plaza in Madrid, best known as the place where the entire city gathers for New Years. Everytime I pass the statue on a walk through Madrid or see it intermingled into various parts of the city (such as in the picture, in a hole-in-the-wall tavern, apparently the oldest in all of Madrid, where I ate with some friends on Sunday) I make up a different explination for what I want that bear to be reaching for, what's really in that tree, and what I want it all to mean. I like that my reasons are always changing and I like that my thoughts here are always evoloving and I like that I probably could know but I just don't.

I'd say that encompasses pretty well how this past week has gone for me. There are some things that I still just plain old do not know. Such as various sayings or words in Spanish. Or what happens at the end of a trimester here (coming up on November 24) and why we randomly have days off schools for fiestas that no one seems to acknowledge anyways. Or how my host dad knew the famous Jimi Hendrix rendition of the Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock but I had never heard of it, which seems more than a little backwards. I'm learning that for a Rotary kid, ignorance isn't necessarily bliss, but it also isn't all that bad.

Saturday night, I babysat for my host mom's best friend, a 3-year-old cutie with flourescent-orange rimmed glasses and a shock of blonde hair named Carlitos. After we got home from my grandpa's house in Las Matas (where we go to eat every Saturday), I had a few minutes of downtime and as I was preparing to walk out the door with my host mom, she looked at me and said "Where's your overnight bag?"... Apparently in Spain it's understood that if you're babysitting, it's gonna be an all night deal. I should've figured this, as the Spanish typically don't even get home until 5 am from parties, and it'd be difficult to catch a bus back home at that time of the morning. So I threw some clothes into a bag and Ana and I departed for the neighboring town of Pozuelo, where I was babysitting. The night was fairly uneventful, Carlitos had the characteristic homesickness that little kids sometimes get, and ended up sort of throwing a fit for his mom, but felt better when I let him scribble all over my hand, and we ended up to be pretty good pals by the end of the night. (As a side note, I'm aware that allowing small children to scribble on me is not the best way to problem-solve, but give me a break, it's hard to comfort a 3-year-old that's at the same level of vocabulary as I, the 18-year-old, am). For the rest of the night, I watched the battle on the soccer field between Real Madrid and Atletico Madrid, an incredibly famous rivalry, almost as intense of a game as those of el Futbol Club Barcelona vs. Real Madrid; something I can only put into context as the Packers vs. the Vikings times about 200. The game was fantastic, Real Madrid won 3-2, but it was well-played and a nail biter right until the end-- speaking of that, I have started picking my nails again... sorry Mom :)

I woke up Sunday and ran out the door with 30 euros in hand from babysitting to meet up directly with my friends Emma and Devon at El Rastro in Madrid. On the Metro in Madrid, there was a very eccentric, harmless, well-dressed, and tiny old man who walked past me on the Metro to get off at his stop. I'm still so accustomed to Minnesota-nice and smiling at everyone (something that no one does here in Spain) so as he nearly danced off the Metro (he was a weird little guy) and turned around to look back in, I gave him a quick smile. He enthusiastically began blowing kisses and waved goodbye to me, as the woman next to me gave me a nudge and asked if I knew him. When I replied "no" we both just sort of looked at each other and laughed. It's the little things :)

El Rastro was one of the coolest places I have been thus far in my adventures in Spain. It is basically a giant street market that takes over a pretty good part of Madrid. You can find the touristy goodies, such as giant Spanish flags or t-shirts with bull sillouhettes, or you can dig through the back streets and find treasures such as a broken-down antique clock, or leather bracelets, fake designer watches, classy canvas bags, or even, if you so choose, a spiffy pair of suspenders with the Spanish flag imprinted all over them. There is an incredible mix of tourists and natives, you can hear all sorts of languages and it really feels like more of an international market rather than specifically Spanish. It struck me as funny that I found myself saying things like, "annoying tourists" under my breath when they'd suddenly stop, disoriented, the mass of people moving forward through the streets. How quickly I forget :) I got my host sister Bea a birthday present however, because the next day, Monday, November 9, was her birthday.

Birthdays are kind of downplayed in Spain-- or maybe we just do it up big in the United States. Monday was a holiday for Madrid, but since I technically live in Majadahonda, I still had school. Bea made herself a cake... it consisted of a generic "cookie" which you soak in hot milk and stack in rows and columns, with melted chocolate in between the layers and melted chocolate spread over the entire thing, with M&M's spelling out "19", which you then put in the fridge to cool. Jacobo and I each gave her our little gifts, I bought her some bracelets the day before and I made her a giant sign which I left taped to her bathroom mirror with the bracelets. She was entirely thrilled when I got home :) Jacobo he had made her some presents as well, and we culminated the day with a very Spanish dinner of octopus soaked in olive oil, among other delicacies.

The rest of the week proved to be pretty uneventful. My mom sent me the new Season 5 of House, so that occupied the majority of my week nights. I also started running again, setting out a specific route that takes me about half an hour. It's pretty thrilling to me that I can still run in a t-shirt and shorts in the middle of November and I've missed the exercise, the whole body-and-mind well being is really important to me. It also helps to combat the scrumptious food that I'd consider a sin not to eat and the famous 15 pounds every exchangey is expected to gain... No way, Jose :)

I'm running out the door right now to go to a concert with some friends from school in Las Rozas. Pozuelo, Majadahonda, and Las Rozas are all right next to each other, a sort of famous trio of suburbs to the Northeast of Madrid. Last night I crashed at about 12... I had plans with friends that fell through because of illnesses and the need to study. It's that time of year, folks. Bea told me yesterday that she'll need to stop going out both Friday and Saturday nights-- she can't afford it anymore, she just has to study. We'll see if that holds up or not :)

Besitos Amigos, Sami

learning

I must've done something right in a past life, because this one is proving to be incredibly rewarding. I'm going to apologize in advance for my deteriorating English (especially in terms of grammar and spelling), I'm finding myself rewording things the way that they're spoken in Spanish. For example, in Spanish, the adjective comes after the noun. So if you want to say "yellow house" you say "casa amarilla" ... I'm finding myself saying things like, I want a bite of that sandwhich tasty. Uh oh :)

I suppose in some ways the language business is a good sign, I'm starting to be able to really joke around with my classmates, and since there's no personal space in Spain, my best friend Alicia basically pounced on me at school the other day and told me that I was never allowed to leave, that she'd miss me too much when I was gone. Of course, that didn't hurt my ego one little bit :) I'm getting to a point of reflection on my trip. I've been here long enough now where I'm starting to be able to actually look back on what's already happened. I have moments that I know I'll remember for a long time- turning around to look at my parents one last time before I passed through security, walking in the airport and first seeing my host mom and Bea waiting. I remember I really liked Bea's blue strappy sandals and Ana was taller than I had expected her to be; Bea was holding a sign that I still have set up in my room. The airport smelled like B.O. and exhaustion, but maybe that was just me, as I'd recently gotten off a 10 hour flight. I reread the first few emails that I sent my mom recently, realizing how much I've already grown, and how much room there is for further growth.

There are some things that I just plain old don't like doing in Spain. But there are things like that in America too. I'm guessing there are things like that in Japan and the Czech Republic and South Africa as well. When I start to think of how much better this situation would be "if only", I remind myself of where I am, what I have the privilege of doing, and how I'm not going to spend more than 2 seconds whining about anything, and even those 2 seconds are two too many. I have about one billion things to look forward too still on my adventure. I have family coming and I think I'm going to England to visit my friend John Linford in February. I have art museums and street markets and discotecas and walks through the park and my bread with olive oil in the morning. I have a family that considers me one of their own children, my host mom started tearing up at a Rotary meeting the other day when she talked about me having to go home. Speaking of Rotary meetings, I had my first this past Thursday.

It was held in a restaurant, where they meet every Thursday at 930 pm. for dinner. There were about 16 people there, a decent mix of men and women, talking over one another and chowing down on the delicious steak in mushroom sauce and fried apples, scalloped potatoes and crunchy, warm bread (my aunt Marisa here in Spain calls this bread "musical bread" which makes Jacobo laugh everytime). Of course, mostly everyone was smoking so by the end of the two hour meeting my eyes were tiny slits and red-rimmed. I'm really thankful that no one in my family smokes, I don't know if I could handle it all the time in the house... It's overwhelming enough at school and in the streets. I gave a little speech at the meeting, everyone laughed and asked me questions and it was very casual and easygoing. I got a lot of compliments on my language and I presented the President with the Rotary flag from Northfield and he gave me the flag from Majadahonda. I thought it was hilarious how the members of the club would snap at one another for talking over other people and would freely tell each other to shut up; there was even one woman who was the official "monitor" of the meeting and would tell people who got to talk next- sort of like in grade school when there was an object and you had to have it in your hands to speak. I giggled to myself at one point imagining all these older, distinguished members of the community passing around a tennis ball for the rights to talk aloud.

I went to a play on Wednesday night with my classmates and tonight I'm baking cookies with Jacobo and then babysitting for a friend of the family who is paying me 30 euros for a few hours. Yesterday was Jesse's birthday and we celebrated with dinner, brownies, and friends, both Spanish and American. Tomorrow I'm going to El Rastro, a giant street market in Madrid that's very famous, I'll be sure to take pictures :) and tomorrow night I might be going to El Prado, the biggest and best art museum in Madrid. Monday is Bea's birthday and I have four tests next week... I have a feeling time might just start flying :) Things continue on back in the United States, I had sort of a slap in the face with this when I discovered a friend of the family had recently fallen ill. I guess things didn't just get put on hold when I left, the world does not, in fact, revolve around me :) I'm continuing to talk with the ones I love, this experience teaches you who you're real friends are, as they're the ones you miss, the ones you still seek out and don't feel guilty about halfway around the world... They're the ones that I appreciate an incredible amount for their support and encouragement. Thank you to all of you who read this and continue to ask for more. In some ways I'm glad that I don't update the blog every day because I truly can't-- I don't have the time. And that's pretty exciting :) November is the month to get through my friends, I'm lovin it.

Besos Amores Mios, Samantha Roma

November

Today is November 1, my little sister Lila's birthday, and the day after Halloween. I spent last night in Madrid at a place called Ciudad Universitaria, which is a big open area where a lot of the Universities in Madrid meet up. It was jam packed with people, and the tradition of dressing up in Spain is slightly different than in the USA. Here, people genuinely try to be scary. If you go dressed up as a nurse (for example) you have red streaks smeared all over your costume and everyone has face makeup of bruises and cuts. We even saw several massacred SpongeBob's. The other boy on exchange in Majadahonda, named Jesse, and I went as Hippies because we didn't want to spend the money for costumes and we both own tye dye and Birkenstocks. It was not my normal night of carousing around neighborhoods asking for candy with the knowledge that we're far too old to do so, but I met a lot of new people, speaking both English and Spanish... a few people didn't believe me when I said I was American... they said I spoke so well they would've had no idea... I'd have to say that was the absolute highlight of my night.

Life has been routine and easygoing in Majadahonda... This past Wednesday I went into Madrid and met up with some of my exchange student friends. I still feel a little bit of guilt about doing this because it's a whole night of speaking English... I think when everyone gets more comfortable with their Spanish it will be incredible to meet up with them, because I have to say that I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time. We enjoyed one Euro bocadillos at 100 Montaditos, a sort of tapa bar chain. I even translated for a few tourists that couldn't speak Spanish that were trying to order. The building on the left is the image I always see coming out of the metro stop at Puerta de Sol in Madrid, it captures a lot of the traditional architecture around the city, plus it shows behind it the gorgeous blue sky that allows the sun to shine down every day. In the nearly two months that I've been here I've only had 4 or 5 days of rain, and "cold" to the Spainards is still tropical for me, with every day in the 60s or 70s, hardly a need for a jacket.

It feels a little strange to be going into November without celebrating Lila's birthday. I've been Skyping with my family fairly regularly, once a week or so, which has worked beautifully thus far, even resulting in one session where my mom and I sort of forgot the other was on the line as she watched Judge Judy and I held up a conversation with my host sister in the background. I guess that's a real testament to being comfortable in your surroundings, when home feels like it could really be in two completely different places across the world from each other. I'm still enjoying the nights of dancing my life away at the discotecas in Madrid, though it's a pricey pastime and Spain is proving to be a bit of an expensive place to live... who knew? :) Sometimes little bouts of homesickness still hit, during the daytime yesterday it was a little rough, thinking on how this was the first holiday without the fam, but I perked myself up throughout the night... This adventure is all about self-help for me, all about learning how to be your own mediator, that some things about being an exchange kid are just plain hard, but that the incredible rewards that await at the end (and throughout each day) are testament enough to why I chose to go. I also got two packages in the mail, one was a letter from my Grandma Colleen, her familiar handwriting and kind words absolutely overwhelmed me with happiness, as if the package from the Estenson Family filled with Halloween decorations (to Jacobo's delight, as he had a little Halloween party yesterday), Reese's candies, and Kris' homemade cookies, which were not smushed but perfectly intact and absolutely delicious, wasn't enough. I played my violin a little this week, helping Jacobo along with his classical guitar as well. Bea is in her first year of University and completely consumed by studying, a little reminder of what I know I'm going to be heading into next year. She is in the Architecture course, however, so a lot of her projects are absolutely incredible, miniature models and sculptures that are meant to show perspective... Our house looks like a modern art museum :) This week I have my first official Rotary meeting on Thursday and on Wednesday I'm going to a play with my class from school. Another week ahead, I'm filled only with anticipation and excitement. Bring it on, November :)

Besitos, Sami

joy joy joy

I'd say it's about time for another update, wouldn't you? This week brought some new challenges and an abundance of new lessons and joys, all of which I'll culminate for you on a stomach full of ribs, olive oil, fresh bread, roasted almonds, peaches, and coffee with milk.





We had our first few tests this week at school. Since I'm enrolled in the "Science" program, I have classes such as Biology, Chemistry, and Earth Sciences. The words and concepts are very similar to those in English... So it's fairly easy for me to follow along. For example, in Biology we're learning about Bioelements (bioelementos), including glucids (glucidos), lipids (lipidos), nucleic acids (acidos nucleicos), and proteins (proteinas). I worked my butt off in high school to understand these concepts and this year is proving to be a test as to how much I really retained. Since I've already graduated, my main priority for this year isn't studying and school, but rather learning Spanish. Turns out one of the greatest ways to learn a language is to work through it in textbooks and by taking all the notes the teacher puts up on the blackboard... So I'm studying while acheiving my goal of learning Spanish. It must be paying off, I'm recieving better grades than many of my classmates, which makes us all a little confused and leaves us laughing. Grading systems are a little confusing in Spain, I'm just starting to grasp them. In high school, the year is divided into trimesters. At the end of each trimester, there is an evaluation (literally, la evaluacion). That evaluation counts for 60% of your grade and is a summary of what you've learned the entire trimester. Within the trimester, you take two tests which account for 40%. Everything is graded out of 10 here and a 5 is considered a passing grade. The two tests are averaged at the end of the trimester. So, if you get a 4 on your first test, you need to get at least a 6 on the next test in order to pass that trimester, taking into account the evaluation. I got a 6.5 on my Biology test (the third best in my class), a 5.4 on my Chemistry test, and similar scores on my Philosophy and History tests. My teachers are very understanding about my grammar, because if they had been taking into account gramatical errors, I think I would have scored much lower :)



I'm still flourishing at school in terms of friends and conversation. My only frustration is that sometimes my friends want to improve their English, so they insist on speaking to me in English the whole day... But I don't worry too much about this because I can already see how much my Spanish has improved since I got here. All I can say is that I'm incredibly thankful for the people that reached out to me in school. They absolutely didn't have to, my language restrictions would have made it easy for them to just dismiss me, but they were kind anyways and now we can all laugh and speak conversationally throughout the day because of their patience and good hearts. I talk to new people each day and butt heads with my English teacher on a new concept every day. I never ever correct her, even though she's often incorrect but as soon as I falter in one area (such as the "formal" method of speech which we NEVER use) she's all over my case. I kindly told her the other day that she's a native Spanish speaker, just like I would never correct her on her Spanish I'd appreciate if she wouldn't correct me (the native English speaker) on my English. She's been leaving me alone a little more as of late. My friend Jesus always requests a Smackdown between us and tells me how much Laura (that's my English teacher) has "owned" me. Unfortunately, Jesus can't really pronounce owned so he says "own-head", which in itself makes me laugh. What a kooky crew we all are :)

Yesterday (Saturday, October 24) I went on an expedition to the mountains in Madrid. There are about 20 of us living in the Madrid area and the large marjority of us met and treked up to the highest peak in Madrid. I'm a little disoriented without the distinct changing of seasons, the trees are barely changing colors, and it's still a gorgeous 70 degrees most days. The mountain hike was difficult to say the least, I'm feeling it today but it was entirely satisfying to reach the top above the clouds laughing and completely content with the other exchange kids, all of us looking at the others realizing "We're in Spain. On top of a mountain. What more is there?" The well-being of exchange students is very much dependent on the weather. On days where it is sunny and decent outside, you can always find something to do, the skies are clear-- go take a walk, sit in the park and draw, meet up with a friend for a McFlurry. Earlier this week we had our first bout of nasty weather, overcast skies and drizzling rain, capitalized by cold. Those days were hard for me, I tasted boredom and felt the guilt of being on my computer just a little too much. But I got through those days and appreicate them all the more now. Talking to former exchange students is incredibly helpful, I love hearing stories and encouraging words never get old. We all go for different reasons and we all end up coming away with different lessons learned, but we share a bond of adventure and uncertainty. We all identify with the other in some special way. It doesn't matter how many preparation meetings you attend, how many "tips" you recieve, or any amount of past experience is shared, there are some things about being an exchange student that are just plain hard. But it's weekends and days like mine on the mountain that make you put every bit of the difficulties in perspective and love what you have and love the time you have left and the time that has passed. There are too many things to count that I'm looking forward to, if these months are supposed to be the "hard" ones, I can't wait to see how high I'm going to get the chance to fly. I love Spain and everything it's teaching me. A part of me never wants to leave and I love that, but a part of me is excited to go home, which I also love, because it's an affirmation of how much I appreciate what I have to go home to. But not yet, folks... I have a whole lot of living yet to do in this gorgeous country, and I intend to embrace if fully.

Besos, Sami

ADDRESS

attention, attention, attention

all letters/postcards/packages/anything at all should be addressed to:



Samantha Weaver
Ecuador 12, Bajo B
Majadahonda 28220
Spain

Thank you :)

madrid--- take one

Having lived in the country for the larger portion of my life, and in a small town before that, the shift to a city could have been disastrous. Suddenly nothing is calm, everything is always moving, peace has redefined itself as the presence of only a few crazies on the metro, and quiet assumes that you're taking into account the cars, the honking and murmuring of voices past your window, the din of your upstairs neighbors, and the ever so occasional bird that dares to fly among the smog. I never would've placed myself in a city, I'd have chosen the more piteresque, "postcard" location-- I guess that's why they don't let you choose.

Turns out Rotary actually knows what they're doing :) Despite some of my fellow exchange friends experiences that contrast this impression, I've had nothing but luck and good fortune during my time here. I feel well cared for, but I'm also proud, feeling like I took a lot of initiative towards my own success. I ventured into Madrid two days ago with the other exchange student Jesse who lives in Majadahonda, and we met up with two other exchange girls who are living in various parts of Madrid. They walked us around the city, it was remarkable how well they already know their way in such a giant place. We saw the Royal Palace and the Cathedral that is right next to it. We walked along Gran Via and went to Plaza Mayor and Puerta de Sol. We stopped at a famous bakery and had Spanish pastries (you could almost feel your teeth disintegrating, they were so sweet). We walked through Parks and around street vendors and wacky performers; two of the highlights being a man who played whole compilations using crystal glasses of various shapes and filled with water to various levels and a man who was dressed entirely in sequins besides a goat mask that adorned his head and banged on pots. We sipped Coca-Cola Lights (there's no such thing as Diet Coke here) as we walked past the aritificial lake in the park. The wonder of the buildings here dwarves anything that I've ever seen in the United States, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. The carvings on the buildings are perfected down the the last feature on every angel, saint, rose, horse, and fountain. The city is clean and beautiful, and history radiates from every streetlamp and cobblestone. It's amazing to me how this doesn't seem to affect the people that live and walk among it every day. Then I flipped perspectives and realized that I do the same with the gorgeous, natural beauty that I'm surrounded by in Minnesota.

I'm suffering from a slight cold, my lungs are a little crackly and I'm finding myself blowing my nose into floral scented Kleenex quite often, but I'm sure with the gorgeous (admittedly chilly) weather and being out and about all the time, that will clear up very soon. I've been to two discotecas at this point, both were great adventures. Guys and girls don't dance with each other here, we all sort of just dance together. It's not dirty in any way, everyone is there to just have a good time. On the other hand, the amount of PDA (Public Display of Affection) is totally overwhelming-- it's not unusual to look over and see one of your friends locking lips with someone else for a few minutes, only to return to the group totally unphased. I refrained (and plan to continue refraining) from this particular aspect of Madrid nightlife-- I just don't think I'm Spanish enough for that one, folks.

I'm learning ways to deal with the "overwhelmed" feeling that I sometimes get after coming home from an entire day of Spanish in school, where, if I have both Philosophy and History in one day, my brain can get a little frazzled. More and more, however, I'm finding myself not literally translating everything in my head, I just hear and process, there's not a lot of hoops that the words have to jump through in my head anymore (such as, what tense is this in, what does the verb mean, in the context of the sentence what are they saying, does this person have a lisp?-- oh wait, no, everyone talks like that, etc.) When I do get run down with it all, I watch one of the DVDs that I brought with me in English or I read a book in English-- and I try not to feel guilty about it. I'm submersed in this language, there's no doubt about that... The occasional episode of House isn't going to reverse all of that learning, right? It's strange to think that just by being here, the language is soaking into me. I'm unconciously "learning", without sitting down and studying for hours. It makes me feel constantly productive and thoroughly international :)

Besos y Abrazos, Sami