It's been so long since I blogged. I've been avoiding writing a new post because it's been so long since my last. I don't know where to begin, or how I could possibly talk about everything that's been happening in the last few months. Maybe, I just wont. Long story short, Spain is good and...
In just about 10 days I'll be packing up, clearing out, and heading on home to good old America!
When I first landed in Madrid, let's be frank, I was scared shitless. I can only imagine how I looked that first morning as I tore through the metro with my huge pieces of luggage, all the while reminding myself: act like you know what you're doing and where you're going or else someone will steal all of your belongings and possibly abduct you (slight exaggeration). I was shaking, literally, that's how scared I was (not an exaggeration).
My first Spanish language encounter happened at the airport when I approached the Metro desk to ask for directions (I've learned now that these assistance counters are mostly just for looks, one should never assume that the people behind them will be of any actual assistance, and they will in no way attempt to hide just how much you annoy them). As my Spanish was very limited upon arrival, I probably said something like "Quiero ir a Metro Sol?". The woman sighed, opened up a map, then frantically drew a series of circles, lines, and maybe an arrow or two before handing it to me. Too petrified to ask for clarification, because that of course would involve more Spanish, I thanked her and continued on my way. Luckily, my background in scribble deciphering aided me and about an hour later, with a sigh of relief, I landed myself in Sol just a few blocks from my hotel.
My first friend in Madrid was Helen. She was the friend of an English girl I was supposed to work with. The plan was for the three of us to meet, apartment hunt, and move in together. However, after less than 60 hours in Madrid, the English girl was on a 2 hour flight right back to England. This left me with two thoughts:
1) Alright, good, I'm not the only one scared out of my mind.
2) California is 14 hours and a $700 flight away, no turning back now (cue more fear).
But Helen and I, we were fighters. We bought cell phones, we made awkward phone calls, we looked at really ugly apartments, we spoke crappy Spanish, until finally we settled ourselves in a giant old school apartment with a nice landlord and cool roommates. What I've loved most about where I live is that I'm only a 5 minute walk from Madrid's nicest most beautiful park, Parque del Retiro.
The first time I went to Retiro, Helen and I had been apartment hunting and awkward phone calling for what seemed like forever. We had heard something about a cool park, and decided to take the afternoon off from apartment hunting to check it out. I fell in love instantly, okay maybe it happened after I saw that the park had a lake where you could rent romantic little boats and row around. I'm pretty sure Retiro has been the one thing that has kept me sane this year. Some weeks, I'd find myself there several days in a row just going for a walk or meeting friends. Best of all, Retiro is a great place to try and pretend that you're a Spaniard. Grab a box of sangria, some plastic cups, a blanket, and you're there!
Adventures, such as moving to another country, naturally come with their shares of ups and downs. This year has been the most epic of rollercoasters (and I hate rollercoasters). But you know what they say, everything is 20/20 in hindsight. I'm so incredibly happy that I came here. I'm so stoked that I lasted for the whole nine months. I'm so excited that in a few short weeks I'll be reunited with my friends and family in the states.
But most of all, I'm really glad that I get to do it all over again come September, but this time with the love of my life. Because all the details have yet to be sorted, I'll leave it at that. And now for one of those...
First Year in Spain: A Review
Places visited in Spain:
Madrid (duh), Toledo, Segovia, Cordoba, Granada, Valencia, San Jose, Sevilla, Xativa
Places visited in Europe:
Rome-Italy, Amsterdam-Netherlands, Paris-France, Bruges-Belgium, Prague-Czech Republic
Number of times Metro pass was lost: 2
Number of mugs stolen from 100 Montaditos: 1
Number of shoes sacrificed to the cities merciless cobbled streets of shoe death: 6 (3 pairs)
Number of impulse "I live in Europe now" I'll regret this later clothing purchases: 4
What I will miss:
my students, public transport, the guy who plays sitar in the Metro at Atocha, Retiro and other parks, drinking in public (hey, at least I'm honest)
What I won't miss:
Spanish PDA, Spanish kissing volume (so audible, it's unreal), waiting in the huge line at Dia while one cashier moves at a pace so slow even a snail would laugh, puke piles on the way to the metro entrance after the weekend (public transport=public pukers)
This data will be updated when further information becomes available.
Happy Monday.
