We've created a new game in honor of all the funny, crazy, ridiculous things our señora says to us. It's called Señora Says...and I just wanted to spread the laughter.
Señora says...
"You're getting fat because you eat bread with dinner."
(NOT because she gives us two slices of bread for breakfast along with four cookies and fruit, two sandwiches for lunch, and meals the size of Thanksgiving dinner).
(One day, we told her that we really like it when she makes a sandwich of just cheese for one of our two lunch sandies).
"Well I'm not going to give you a cheese sandwich every day because cheese makes you fat."
"You're sick because you leave the window open at night." But, Pepi, we haven't left the window open at night for more than a month. "Close the window at night and you won't get sick." Okay?
One day, we're sitting in our room studying and Pepi walks in.
"OPEN THE WINDOW! It smells like FEET in here!"
One night at dinner, she points to the wheat bread she buys for her and her daughter and tells us, "This bread has medicine in it. The doctor told me to eat it. It doesn't taste good, but I have to eat it for my health." Translation: I buy you girls the fugly, cheap white bread for a reason. Don't touch my more expensive wheat bread.
We have two French girls staying with us and they don't speak much Spanish. When I asked how long they had been studying for, they said three years. To this, Pepi responded, "Three years!?! I thought you hadn't studied Spanish at all!!"
My roommate told Pepi that her stomach hurt. "It's because you don't blow your nose. All the congestion drains back into your stomach, so it hurts. You need to stop sniffling and blow your nose."
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Sweet nothings of Spanish life
Elderly men always go out in the evening in business suits - that includes the slacks, the jacket, the button up shirt, belt, shoes, and tie. I love it.
Older women (ages 55+?) usually wear skirts when the leave the house. They get dressed up! Our señora has her jean skirt that she wears around the house, but if she goes out to grocery shop or anything, she changes into a loose, patterned skirt, combs her hair, and puts on some lipstick and perfume. No sweats, y'all.
Weddings. Every time there is a wedding, you know it. The women dress up in formal dresses of various, vibrant colors. It's like going to prom, except better. Oh, and they wear flowers in their hair.
Along a public walkway called Avenida Constitución, as the evening sets over the city, musicians of all types come out and play, setting their cases in front of them for donations. Saxophone, violin, accordion....
People of all ages run - sometimes spring - to the bus stop when they see it coming and they're not quite there.
Everyone carries around shopping bags. Not necessarily with new merchandise...there could be anything in it, but they choose to carry it in a fancy little bag from a stylish apparel store.
You know when a señora is on her way to the grocery store, because she pulls a tote on wheels for her groceries. It's almost like a carry-on bag, but the print is usually plaid.
Everyone gets two kisses when they meet - friends old and new.
PDA - Unhindered public displays of affection, primarily outside the universities and in the park.
Eating churros con chocolate at 6 am. Mmmm, breakfast.
Our señora's singing. She almost never stops...when she cooks, when she cleans...the only time she gives her voice a rest is when she sits down to read. Or when she listens to Elvis.
Walks. It's what the older Spanish community does for entertainment on the weekends. But you also see young couples...just walking.
Our señora's ridiculously loud snoring. It puts me right back at home with my dad. Snoring heard from down the hall. I can appreciate that =).
Fruterías - fruit stands filled with a wide array of delicious fruit of all shapes and sizes. Mmmm, getting hungry!
The stylish women. How to describe it...I think it's a mixture of the 70s, 80s, and modern-day styles with a bit of a punk twist. Try that on for size.
Trying not to sound too creepy, sometimes I just like to sit and watch them walk by...similar to Facebook stalking, no?
Older women (ages 55+?) usually wear skirts when the leave the house. They get dressed up! Our señora has her jean skirt that she wears around the house, but if she goes out to grocery shop or anything, she changes into a loose, patterned skirt, combs her hair, and puts on some lipstick and perfume. No sweats, y'all.
Weddings. Every time there is a wedding, you know it. The women dress up in formal dresses of various, vibrant colors. It's like going to prom, except better. Oh, and they wear flowers in their hair.
Along a public walkway called Avenida Constitución, as the evening sets over the city, musicians of all types come out and play, setting their cases in front of them for donations. Saxophone, violin, accordion....
People of all ages run - sometimes spring - to the bus stop when they see it coming and they're not quite there.
Everyone carries around shopping bags. Not necessarily with new merchandise...there could be anything in it, but they choose to carry it in a fancy little bag from a stylish apparel store.
You know when a señora is on her way to the grocery store, because she pulls a tote on wheels for her groceries. It's almost like a carry-on bag, but the print is usually plaid.
Everyone gets two kisses when they meet - friends old and new.
PDA - Unhindered public displays of affection, primarily outside the universities and in the park.
Eating churros con chocolate at 6 am. Mmmm, breakfast.
Our señora's singing. She almost never stops...when she cooks, when she cleans...the only time she gives her voice a rest is when she sits down to read. Or when she listens to Elvis.
Walks. It's what the older Spanish community does for entertainment on the weekends. But you also see young couples...just walking.
Our señora's ridiculously loud snoring. It puts me right back at home with my dad. Snoring heard from down the hall. I can appreciate that =).
Fruterías - fruit stands filled with a wide array of delicious fruit of all shapes and sizes. Mmmm, getting hungry!
The stylish women. How to describe it...I think it's a mixture of the 70s, 80s, and modern-day styles with a bit of a punk twist. Try that on for size.
Trying not to sound too creepy, sometimes I just like to sit and watch them walk by...similar to Facebook stalking, no?
Weekend in Nerja
My roommate and I, along with two other girls from our study abroad group decided we wanted to go to Nerja.
Nerja is a beach town along the southern coast of Spain, and just outside the town are the Cuevas (or caves) de Nerja.
So, we woke up before the sun rose and went to the bus station where we met up with three of the guys from our group that were also making the trek to the coast.
And then we slept.
When we got into town, we found our hostel, and coincidentally we had booked the same hostel as the boys, so that was convenient. We changed into out suits and strolled along the streets toward the beach, stopping here and there to look in the shops along the way.
The beach was beautiful! Blue ocean, palm trees, tan bodies everywhere...some showing more body than we wanted to see.
We picked up some food, went down to the water and laid our towels in the sand. We went into the water, we napped, and I finished my fifth book since I arrived in Spain (can you say nerd?!).
After our tanning time on la playa, we went back to our quaint little hostel and got ready for dinner. The boys, just because they are so awesome, invited us onto the terrace at the top of the hostel to drink sangría that they had made themselves - consisting of brandy, fanta limón, and some kind of wine...
So we all sat up on the terrace and watched the sun set over the mountains. And we talked and LAUGHED! Laughed and laughed and laughed. And then it was dinner time!
We walked around to this restaurant we had seen, but decided it was too expensive. It was in the middle of this plaza overlooking the ocean, and some Spaniards were break-dancing to a boom box - so cool. So we watched for a bit, and then kept going because we were starving!
We ended up eating at this Italian restaurant called El Gato Negro (which means the Black cat) that had live flamenco out front. Unfortunately, we couldn't sit outside to see it because our group was too big. So we enjoyed the muffled music from the inside.
But the ambiance inside the restaurant was great, and we started with a bottle of wine, and then ordered pizzas and pastas with seafood. Delicious doesn't even begin to describe.
We bought gelato near the ocean, and the guys were still hungry so we continued on, wandering into a Mexican restaurant.
Some people go bar hopping. We go restaurant hopping.
Even though not everyone ate, we all got little Mexican hat pins with our bill - like the way you get fortune cookies at a Chinese restaurant.
And then, with full stomachs, we proceeded home.
The next morning, we got up early to catch the 8:30 bus to the caves. It took about 15 minutes to get there, the bus dropped us off, and then we read the sign posted on the door.
It didn't open until 10.
So we decide to explore...we find a playground and hang around like monkeys for awhile, and then we walk down towards the town nearby to see if there are any cafés open. Well, instead we found a buffet libre (all you can eat buffet) at a hotel just off the main road for less than 4 euros. Count us in!
By the time we got done eating, the caves were open, and we managed to just beat the crowds.
The cave we went into was so cool. The size of each chamber was just unbelievable! And we saw the biggest column of stalagmites/stalactites in the world. In this little beach town in southern Spain! It was great.
We headed back to Nerja, and back to our hostel, where we packed up and checked out. On to Málaga.
We were only in Málaga for a couple of hours, and had planned to see the Picasso museum, but when we saw that it was too far away to make it back in time for our bus, we sat down in some grass and just hung for a bit. And then we went for tapas.
Tapas. Tapas are amazing. They are almost like appetizers in the US. I think the tradition started as a way to prevent people from just getting drinks and feeling tipsy afterwards because they didn't eat beforehand. So when Spaniards go out in the evening, they get drinks and tapas...sometimes. And sometimes they just have a cerveza.
But we shared a bunch of tapas, and then passed out on the bus ride home.
It was a great weekend.
Nerja is a beach town along the southern coast of Spain, and just outside the town are the Cuevas (or caves) de Nerja.
So, we woke up before the sun rose and went to the bus station where we met up with three of the guys from our group that were also making the trek to the coast.
And then we slept.
When we got into town, we found our hostel, and coincidentally we had booked the same hostel as the boys, so that was convenient. We changed into out suits and strolled along the streets toward the beach, stopping here and there to look in the shops along the way.
The beach was beautiful! Blue ocean, palm trees, tan bodies everywhere...some showing more body than we wanted to see.
We picked up some food, went down to the water and laid our towels in the sand. We went into the water, we napped, and I finished my fifth book since I arrived in Spain (can you say nerd?!).
After our tanning time on la playa, we went back to our quaint little hostel and got ready for dinner. The boys, just because they are so awesome, invited us onto the terrace at the top of the hostel to drink sangría that they had made themselves - consisting of brandy, fanta limón, and some kind of wine...
So we all sat up on the terrace and watched the sun set over the mountains. And we talked and LAUGHED! Laughed and laughed and laughed. And then it was dinner time!
We walked around to this restaurant we had seen, but decided it was too expensive. It was in the middle of this plaza overlooking the ocean, and some Spaniards were break-dancing to a boom box - so cool. So we watched for a bit, and then kept going because we were starving!
We ended up eating at this Italian restaurant called El Gato Negro (which means the Black cat) that had live flamenco out front. Unfortunately, we couldn't sit outside to see it because our group was too big. So we enjoyed the muffled music from the inside.
But the ambiance inside the restaurant was great, and we started with a bottle of wine, and then ordered pizzas and pastas with seafood. Delicious doesn't even begin to describe.
We bought gelato near the ocean, and the guys were still hungry so we continued on, wandering into a Mexican restaurant.
Some people go bar hopping. We go restaurant hopping.
Even though not everyone ate, we all got little Mexican hat pins with our bill - like the way you get fortune cookies at a Chinese restaurant.
And then, with full stomachs, we proceeded home.
The next morning, we got up early to catch the 8:30 bus to the caves. It took about 15 minutes to get there, the bus dropped us off, and then we read the sign posted on the door.
It didn't open until 10.
So we decide to explore...we find a playground and hang around like monkeys for awhile, and then we walk down towards the town nearby to see if there are any cafés open. Well, instead we found a buffet libre (all you can eat buffet) at a hotel just off the main road for less than 4 euros. Count us in!
By the time we got done eating, the caves were open, and we managed to just beat the crowds.
The cave we went into was so cool. The size of each chamber was just unbelievable! And we saw the biggest column of stalagmites/stalactites in the world. In this little beach town in southern Spain! It was great.
We headed back to Nerja, and back to our hostel, where we packed up and checked out. On to Málaga.
We were only in Málaga for a couple of hours, and had planned to see the Picasso museum, but when we saw that it was too far away to make it back in time for our bus, we sat down in some grass and just hung for a bit. And then we went for tapas.
Tapas. Tapas are amazing. They are almost like appetizers in the US. I think the tradition started as a way to prevent people from just getting drinks and feeling tipsy afterwards because they didn't eat beforehand. So when Spaniards go out in the evening, they get drinks and tapas...sometimes. And sometimes they just have a cerveza.
But we shared a bunch of tapas, and then passed out on the bus ride home.
It was a great weekend.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The Three Gay Spaniards that weren´t
We had the best Saturday night.
My roommate and I told our señora that we were going out for dinner, and we bought some bread and cheese along with some cheap wine to enjoy by the river. We were meeting three other girls from our group, and so we staked out a spot, dangling our legs over the edge.
So here's the deal on drinking in public in Sevilla. A law was passed about a year ago mandating that drinking in the streets is no longer allowed. As was explained to me, kids as young as 12 were drinking in the streets, making lots of noise all night, and leaving poor impressions on tourists. So the law was passed. But it only applies to places where people live, or in front of open doors and business, etc. So there are certain areas where you can still drink legally. And, I was told, one of those places is by the river.
So here's the deal on drinking in public in Sevilla. A law was passed about a year ago mandating that drinking in the streets is no longer allowed. As was explained to me, kids as young as 12 were drinking in the streets, making lots of noise all night, and leaving poor impressions on tourists. So the law was passed. But it only applies to places where people live, or in front of open doors and business, etc. So there are certain areas where you can still drink legally. And, I was told, one of those places is by the river.
So we're doing just that, and then a party arrived. About 20 Spanish kids - they looked like they were in high school - show up and start drinking and hanging out by the river. One of them tried to talk to us, but he was too intoxicated to even speak Spanish well. Ooooh geez.
Well, those guys left after finishing their pre-gaming, and two other Spanish guys came along and said hola. I started making small talk with them (in spanish, of course) and they asked if they could sit down. Sure, I said. We chatted for awhile, they were from Granada but are working as mechanics in Sevilla now. One of them, Jorge, started to explain to me the differences in flamenco dancing between Sevilla and Granada. It was really interesting.
Then one of the girls from our group called Jorge "Jorge Curioso el mono" or Curious George the monkey. I don't really know why, but it was hilarious. And she called his friend "El hombre en el sombrero amarillo" or the man in the yellow hat. And they thought that was great, the two of them laughed so hard. And then the man in the yellow hat wanted to know if this guy from the Curious George books was handsome.
"Of course he is!" I told him.
We moved on, saying goodbye to our new friends..."¿Besos?" (Kisses?) Jorge asked me. (In Spain, friends, even new friends, great each other with a kiss on each cheek)
"¿Besos de amigos, verdad?" (Friendly kisses, right?) I responded and took on the Spanish tradition.
Then we went to an Irish pub that we like on Calle Betiz, which is a street with bunch of clubs and bars where Spaniards hang out.
There, we met up with three Spanish guys we had met through our university. One of them, David, had been our tour guide, and he and I had exchanged numbers during orientation. (He is leaving to study in England this year).
Well, at orientation, he introduced his friend Samuel as his partner. So it gets around our study abroad group that he's gay, he's got a partner, right?
We just weren't sure about his third friend, but he said something about hitting on guys or something, so we just figured.
They took us to another area where there are several discotecas (not clubs, because in Spain that means brothel) and we split up into two groups to get in (for some reason big groups have to pay to get into discotecas).
And it was PACKED. It was great, but so many people! At about 2am!
But we danced and danced - we were having a blast. Slowly the group splits up into the crowd of people, and I find myself dancing with David's partner.
And then he tried to kiss me.
Oh geez, THEY'RE NOT GAY!!!!
I back away and say to him in Spanish, hey, I haven't had enough to drink for that nonsense, buddy.
Poor guy. Gave him the shut down.
Then I spot one of the other girls I was with, Kate, dancing with David's other friend, and I make my way over to her. We look at each other and say, almost in unison, "They're not gay!"
Apparently the guy that Kate was dancing with also wanted to plant a big one on her, even after she told him that she has a boyfriend in the States. Then she told him that, all along, we had thought they were gay.
And so it all unravels...
"You thought we were GAY?!" the two friends exclaim with shocked expressions.
One of them told us it was the first time that anyone had ever called him gay. Probably not the best time to use the phrase "there's a first time for everything"!
"You think I was gay?!" David asks with wide eyes after walking up to us.
Well, yes kind of - that's what "partner" means in the US...we just didn't know.
By "partner" David had actually meant "classmate." The Spanish word can be translated either way.
They were embarrassed, and we were embarrassed, but everyone was laughing. Not long after that, we decided to call it a night...or a morning, being that it was about 5 am.
The guys were good sports about it though, and at the end of the night they hugged each other and said in English, "Goodnight pard-ner."
And altogether, I have to say, it was a very good night.
La vida española
So, what´s an average day like in Spain?
Wake up in the morning, no shower, because our señora preferes us to shower ¨por la tarde¨ or in the afternoon. And we only get one a day, so we better make it special.
For breakfast we get two slices of cold bread with butter and strawberry jam, a cup of decaf coffee with milk, cookies to dip in the coffee, and fruit. Not bad.
We have class Monday through Thursday, and so I leave an hour before class starts and walk about 10 minutes to the bus stop. From there, it´s about a 15 minute ride to the university bus stop, and then I walk the rest of the way to campus.
Interesting bit of info - while riding the bus to campus, we pass a place called ¨Tres mil viviendas¨ or 3,000 livings. It´s basically the projects of Sevilla. So our program coordinator told us never to walk to school - not that we could, because our bus takes the freeway.
Another interesting bit of info - our university used to be a jail. It reminds me of Pinnacle High School, one road in, one road out, surrounded by desert.
Depending on what day it is, I either eat bocadillas (sandwhiches) made by my señora on campus, or I return home for lunch.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, I finish by noon, so I ride the bus back home and wait until 2:15 when the family usually eats. Sometimes we´re joined by our señora´s daughter, who lives with us, and her oldest son and brother have even stopped by during lunchtime.
Lunch is huge. And delicious. Usually we have some kind of soup, a salad, and a big plate of fish. The other day our señora made fried calamari, fresh clams, and fresh tuna - all for one meal. My roommate and I were so full.
The city literally shuts down starting at 2 pm until around 5 pm. It´s incredible to see the difference walking around in the morning, and then again in the afternoon. The only places that stay open are restaurants, some grocery stores, and a big department store in Spain called El Corte Inglès. But, then restaurants shut down until dinner time, which - at the earliest - begins at 8.
At my house, we eat dinner at 9 pm - and our señora says that she eats early. But after having a big lunch, we are hardly ever hungry again for dinner.
Our ¨house¨ is what Americans would call an apartment. It has four small bedrooms and two bathrooms, and then a small kitchen and a living room. But here, it´s considered a house.
Our showers have to be quick - 5 minutes or less. Before we shower, we have to turn on the gas to get warm water. And once our señora turns on the gas, we better be running and jumping into that shower.
To save water, we rinse, water off. Shampoo. Water on, rinse, water off. Conditioner. Water on, rinse, water off. Shave, if necessary. And that´s our shower. In the afternoon, of course.
If we want to go out, it´s better to be ready before 11 so we can catch the last bus into town. Otherwise we have to pay for a taxi. But a taxi ride isn´t very expensive - only about 5 euro.
It doesn´t sound that difficult, but when dinner is at 9, and we use our one shower to shower after dinner, things can get a little tight. And, Spaniards usually don´t go out until midnight or so. The discotecas don´t get crowded until 2 or 3 in the morning on the weekends. It´s great.
Sevilla doesn´t have a metro, so you either have to walk, take a taxi, or take the bus. No problems yet with transportation - it´s refreshing not to be so dependent on cars.
My roommate is great, she´s from California and is super nice. We get along really well and have enjoyed exploring the city together and getting to know Spanish cultures. And listening to little lectures from our señora - I know she means well. =)
I am loving Sevilla, the city is beautiful, and we haven´t even scratched the surface!
Wake up in the morning, no shower, because our señora preferes us to shower ¨por la tarde¨ or in the afternoon. And we only get one a day, so we better make it special.
For breakfast we get two slices of cold bread with butter and strawberry jam, a cup of decaf coffee with milk, cookies to dip in the coffee, and fruit. Not bad.
We have class Monday through Thursday, and so I leave an hour before class starts and walk about 10 minutes to the bus stop. From there, it´s about a 15 minute ride to the university bus stop, and then I walk the rest of the way to campus.
Interesting bit of info - while riding the bus to campus, we pass a place called ¨Tres mil viviendas¨ or 3,000 livings. It´s basically the projects of Sevilla. So our program coordinator told us never to walk to school - not that we could, because our bus takes the freeway.
Another interesting bit of info - our university used to be a jail. It reminds me of Pinnacle High School, one road in, one road out, surrounded by desert.
Depending on what day it is, I either eat bocadillas (sandwhiches) made by my señora on campus, or I return home for lunch.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, I finish by noon, so I ride the bus back home and wait until 2:15 when the family usually eats. Sometimes we´re joined by our señora´s daughter, who lives with us, and her oldest son and brother have even stopped by during lunchtime.
Lunch is huge. And delicious. Usually we have some kind of soup, a salad, and a big plate of fish. The other day our señora made fried calamari, fresh clams, and fresh tuna - all for one meal. My roommate and I were so full.
The city literally shuts down starting at 2 pm until around 5 pm. It´s incredible to see the difference walking around in the morning, and then again in the afternoon. The only places that stay open are restaurants, some grocery stores, and a big department store in Spain called El Corte Inglès. But, then restaurants shut down until dinner time, which - at the earliest - begins at 8.
At my house, we eat dinner at 9 pm - and our señora says that she eats early. But after having a big lunch, we are hardly ever hungry again for dinner.
Our ¨house¨ is what Americans would call an apartment. It has four small bedrooms and two bathrooms, and then a small kitchen and a living room. But here, it´s considered a house.
Our showers have to be quick - 5 minutes or less. Before we shower, we have to turn on the gas to get warm water. And once our señora turns on the gas, we better be running and jumping into that shower.
To save water, we rinse, water off. Shampoo. Water on, rinse, water off. Conditioner. Water on, rinse, water off. Shave, if necessary. And that´s our shower. In the afternoon, of course.
If we want to go out, it´s better to be ready before 11 so we can catch the last bus into town. Otherwise we have to pay for a taxi. But a taxi ride isn´t very expensive - only about 5 euro.
It doesn´t sound that difficult, but when dinner is at 9, and we use our one shower to shower after dinner, things can get a little tight. And, Spaniards usually don´t go out until midnight or so. The discotecas don´t get crowded until 2 or 3 in the morning on the weekends. It´s great.
Sevilla doesn´t have a metro, so you either have to walk, take a taxi, or take the bus. No problems yet with transportation - it´s refreshing not to be so dependent on cars.
My roommate is great, she´s from California and is super nice. We get along really well and have enjoyed exploring the city together and getting to know Spanish cultures. And listening to little lectures from our señora - I know she means well. =)
I am loving Sevilla, the city is beautiful, and we haven´t even scratched the surface!
Make your luggage disappear!
I took a train from Paris to Irun, in Spain, and had no problems. Granted I almost broke my back hauling my luggage everywhere, but I definitely got them on and off the train safely, leaving them on the luggage racks.
Well, intercity trains in Spain don´t have luggage racks. Only overhead compartments that are smaller than the in-flight airplane storage.
I had no idea what to do with my two, very large, suitcases. Not to mention my backpack. I ask the woman manning our compartment what I should do with them.
She yells at me, in Spanish of course, that finding a place for my luggage is not her problem, but that I can´t leave them in the area where people board the train.
Okay.
So, with the help of a nice guy sitting in front of me, I pile them onto the empty chair next to me.
When the woman comes back, she yells again, telling me that each passenger is allowed 2 bags no more than 20 kilos each. She says something about eating them - I´m guessing she was telling me to eat my clothes to get rid of them - and then she says I need to make them disappear.
Shoot. I forgot my magic set at home. Can I take a rain check?
Unfortunately at the time, I hadn´t slept much, so I actually felt more like crying than joking around.
Well, a nice man in the middle says ¨Aquì, amiga,¨ and points to a table surrounded by empty seats. So we hide one of my suitcases under there, and then I put the other one in front of my seat and prop my feet up on it.
So then a family boards and wants to know whose enormous suitcase is blocking their feet. So we move it back out of the compartment to where the passengers board again.
Well the woman working for the line comes by again and yells at me...again. She can´t open the door to let people on, so I can´t leave my suitcase there.
I apologize, defeated and tired of being yelled at and put the suitcase in the seat next to me. She says that´s fine for now, but if anyone needs to sit there, I have to stand.
Okay, that´s fine with me. I wish she would have said that the first time.
Luckily, the seat stayed empty and I made it to Madrid with all of my luggage and shared a taxi ride to the hotel with a boy named Wil that I had met before boarding the train, who was also studying abroad.
Well, intercity trains in Spain don´t have luggage racks. Only overhead compartments that are smaller than the in-flight airplane storage.
I had no idea what to do with my two, very large, suitcases. Not to mention my backpack. I ask the woman manning our compartment what I should do with them.
She yells at me, in Spanish of course, that finding a place for my luggage is not her problem, but that I can´t leave them in the area where people board the train.
Okay.
So, with the help of a nice guy sitting in front of me, I pile them onto the empty chair next to me.
When the woman comes back, she yells again, telling me that each passenger is allowed 2 bags no more than 20 kilos each. She says something about eating them - I´m guessing she was telling me to eat my clothes to get rid of them - and then she says I need to make them disappear.
Shoot. I forgot my magic set at home. Can I take a rain check?
Unfortunately at the time, I hadn´t slept much, so I actually felt more like crying than joking around.
Well, a nice man in the middle says ¨Aquì, amiga,¨ and points to a table surrounded by empty seats. So we hide one of my suitcases under there, and then I put the other one in front of my seat and prop my feet up on it.
So then a family boards and wants to know whose enormous suitcase is blocking their feet. So we move it back out of the compartment to where the passengers board again.
Well the woman working for the line comes by again and yells at me...again. She can´t open the door to let people on, so I can´t leave my suitcase there.
I apologize, defeated and tired of being yelled at and put the suitcase in the seat next to me. She says that´s fine for now, but if anyone needs to sit there, I have to stand.
Okay, that´s fine with me. I wish she would have said that the first time.
Luckily, the seat stayed empty and I made it to Madrid with all of my luggage and shared a taxi ride to the hotel with a boy named Wil that I had met before boarding the train, who was also studying abroad.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
And on the 30th day, we rested.
Lesson learned from our return to Paris: remember which train station you leave your luggage at.
We went to the wrong station, and had to turn around and get back on the metro to go to the right one - which we weren´t sure about anymore. Ha. Oh geez.
But we pick up our mounds of luggage and hail a cab to get to our hotel. We had booked a nicer hotel in the middle of the city and planned to just relax for a day or two.
And that´s exactly what we did.
There was a cafè just across the street from our hotel, and on our second day their I ate duck for the first time from their menu. We savored freshly baked pain eu chocolat (chocolate-filled croissants) and enjoyed our hotel´s breakfast buffet. We dressed up our first night and went to an Italian restaurant for a late dinner and just sat and talked for hours.
Paris was cold - like Phoenix winters - but it was nice to have to bundle up for a change.
And we were done, our trip was over, there was no more.
I don´t think that really hit me until I got into a cab to go to the train station, and I was alone. I was alone for the first time since we had left the US.
I was leaving my partner in crime behind, the girl with whom I had shared my August. With whom I had done everything, seen everything, and traveled everywhere. And I was sad to have to say goodbye to our long discussions - about politics, life, religion, love - and our times together in silence, reading, journaling, drawing, and observing.
But Spain and other adventures awaited me ahead.
Like Paulo Coehlo quotes in his book, ¨We´ll always have Paris.¨
We´ll always have Paris, Leslie!
We went to the wrong station, and had to turn around and get back on the metro to go to the right one - which we weren´t sure about anymore. Ha. Oh geez.
But we pick up our mounds of luggage and hail a cab to get to our hotel. We had booked a nicer hotel in the middle of the city and planned to just relax for a day or two.
And that´s exactly what we did.
There was a cafè just across the street from our hotel, and on our second day their I ate duck for the first time from their menu. We savored freshly baked pain eu chocolat (chocolate-filled croissants) and enjoyed our hotel´s breakfast buffet. We dressed up our first night and went to an Italian restaurant for a late dinner and just sat and talked for hours.
Paris was cold - like Phoenix winters - but it was nice to have to bundle up for a change.
And we were done, our trip was over, there was no more.
I don´t think that really hit me until I got into a cab to go to the train station, and I was alone. I was alone for the first time since we had left the US.
I was leaving my partner in crime behind, the girl with whom I had shared my August. With whom I had done everything, seen everything, and traveled everywhere. And I was sad to have to say goodbye to our long discussions - about politics, life, religion, love - and our times together in silence, reading, journaling, drawing, and observing.
But Spain and other adventures awaited me ahead.
Like Paulo Coehlo quotes in his book, ¨We´ll always have Paris.¨
We´ll always have Paris, Leslie!
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