DUBLIN!

So I just bought a ticket to fly to Dublin. What's getting in to me? I'm on a ticket buying frenzy apparently.

My parents are coming to visit this part of the world during my spring break, from April 2-9th. But my spring break actually lasts until the 13th, so I have four nights to do whatever I would like. And we are literally kicked out of our houses during the break, so returning home to my madre isn't an option. So, that leads me to Ireland. One of my friends was desperate to go to Ireland during spring break, but no one else in the group had any desire to go with, so she booked the trip by herself. So for the last four days, after my parents leave, I'm going to meet up with her, and the two of us are going to have a merry little time together in Dublin!

PARIS!

So I just bought a ticket to Paris for our three day weekend, March 13-16!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Impulsive...yes.
Excited...yes.
But the best part is the great group of girls I'll be traveling with. They were already planning on going, and I had no plans, so I'm crashing theirs. SO PUMPED.

My life has finally reached the point of To Do Lists

While the first month of Spain has been super relaxing and restful, things are finally starting to pick up. I keep finding gum wrappers with scribbled and smudged To Do Lists in all of my pockets. It has been over a week since I last posted, and for that, I am sorry.

This past weekend was spent in Madrid, on an excursion planned through our program. These pre-planned trips are completely out of our hands, and everything is taken care of and already paid for, so all we have to do is show up. On Friday morning, at 7 AM, out bus left Salamanca en route to Madrid, the capital of Spain. Two and a half hours later, we made our first stop at el Prado Museo, one of the most famous art museums. There, we saw many works by Greco, Goya, Velazquez, and many more. Of course the only thing I like to do after a good art museum, is go to another art museum. We hit up the Thyssen museum, where we saw more art. Hurrah. My brain is so full of art, that all the museums we went to are blurred together. All I remember about this one is that it had a lot more modern art-- lots of Picasso.

Later that night, we went and saw a life changing, most amzing and fantastical show called Mayumana Momentum. I would describe it as a combination between The Blue Man Group and Stomp. After the show was over, all the performers slowly left the theater out the main exit door, each banging on their respective instruments. On their way out, the remained in the entry way of the theater, and continued performing for about 20 more minutes amongst the crowd of audience members. It was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. I left a changed person.



On Saturday, we woke up bright and early and headed to the Palacio Real, the historic palace where the King and Queen of Spain use to reside. It has 3000 rooms. Enough said. We took a tour of the inside, walking through each of the rooms, examining each and every ornately decorated square inch. And of course we then had another art museum to tour. SO MUCH ART. We took the bus to the Reina Sofia Museum, where we saw many works by Picasso (including Guernica) and Salvador Dali.

The evening was left open to do whatever we liked, so we just walked all over the city. We ended up in the middle of a massive park/garden place comparable to Central Park of NYC. It really reminded me of the quad at JMU, with tons of people sitting out on the grass, enjoying the beautiful afternoon and the company of great friends. The only difference being that here in Spain, everyone sitting in the park carries their own bottle of liquor. Thats one thing you wouldn't see on the quad in the middle of the afternoon.

Hanging out in Escorial

This building in Madrid was completely covered in plants. So odd.

In the Madrid Park

The Plaza Mayor of Madrid

Some hunnies in the Plaza Mayor

At the Palacio Real

PALACIO REAL!

The Mayumana Momentum after-party, in the entryway of the theater

CHANGED MY LIFE!

Sorry to postopne

So I was in Madrid all weekend, and there is lots to share, but little time to share it. So in the meantime, entertain yourself with this.

Warning: you may pee your pants.

Just a picture post of Avila, because I took so many

YEMAS!

The gold Saint Teresa room

Saint Teresa's Convent

Saint Teresa's Convent

The facade on the cathedral of Avila

On top of the murallas!

Avila: your yemas are lame-us

I knew today would be a good day when I woke up, unable to turn off the beeping alarm, because both of my arms had fallen asleep under my comatose body.

And so began my Saturday-- with a day trip planned to Avila. We are trying to take more advantage of our free weekends to be fun and adventurous, rather than sit in cafes and drink coffee and eat pastries while wasting away our lives on the internet. So Andrea and I, along with seven other students, hopped on a bus for 10 euro and spent the day being extra touristy.

Avila is a nearby city, only an hour and a half away by bus. According to one of our Spain guide books, Avila is accurately described as follows: "In the middle of a windy plateau littered with giant boulders, Avila can look wild and sinister. Avila today is well preserved, but the mood is slightly sad, austere, and desolate." Who the heck is hired to write the commentary for these guide books? Retired romance novelists? Who describes a city as wild and sinister, I mean really?

Well. Here's the facts. Avila is known for three main things: the murallas, Saint Teresa, and yemas.

The murallas: According to the same guide book, the murallas are historic fortress walls built over 900 years ago. They were more recently restored in the early 1900s, when the town was reclaimed by the Moors. One way of experiencing the murallas is to buy a ticket to walk along the tops of them; so for about 3 bucks, we toured around the top of the walls and enjoyed a great panoramic view of the whole city. It was a cold and windy day, but the sun kept popping out and restoring our seasonal-related depression. The scattered snow was a pleasant surprise, but it was still way too bitterly cold to be outside walking around for five hours.

Saint Teresa: Santa Teresa de Avila is probably Avila's number one claim to fame. She was born in Avila in 1515 and became known for her lifetime of work within the Catholic Church-- establishing convents, caring for the poor, and for her many writings. We made it a priority to visit the Convento de Santa Teresa, and the Museo de Santa Teresa (conveniently located in the basement of the convent). Once again, no photography was allowed, but you know what that means-- flash off, hire an accomplice to watch for security guards, and take all the photos my little heart desires. Which, in this case, was not that many. The museum was little to talk about-- it mainly had paintings of the Saint, knick knacks found around her convent, and a piece of black fabric that was supposedly cut from one of her ancient habits! What a find! The convent itself was very beautiful, especially a tiny little closet of a room in which every square inch was covered in gold. However, the real gem of Saint Teresa was found in a building right next to the convent, which housed "Relics de Santa Teresa". Basically, it was the museum gift shop, but it was packing a big surprise. In the back room of the shop was a display case, which housed the greatest find of the entire afternoon. One of Saint Teresa's fingers was preserved in a glass case, wearing an emerald ring. Probably the most disgusting things I've seen since arriving in Spain.

I like to think of Saint Teresa as a sassy woman of God. Here's why. We were greeted by this painting upon entering her convent:

Translates as: This is my house.
And also, I think the finger was probably her middle finger, so she left a little attitude in the convent, flicking off all of us tourists who only come to look at her great life, rather than living our own lives in a way worthy of sainthood.

And finally, the yemas: One of the many great ways Saint Teresa left a mark on Avila was through her traditional candied egg yolk creations. Vom. Supposedly, she created them to distribute to the poor, but now they are sold in every store, cafe, pastry shop, souvenir shop, and bar as a way to hit up all the tourists. So being in Avila, we made it our goal to try the world class yemas. During the siesta, we found a cafe, where we all ordered coffee, pastries, and we went in on a box of yemas for us to all try. I would describe the texture as gritty bananas, while the flavor more reminded me of a moldy marshmallow, with an after taste of death. I mean really, what would you expect for a candy made out of egg yolk to taste like? Sugary egg. Vomit, otra vez.

After returning to Salamanca, Andrea and I, and three other Avila travelers returned to the previously mentioned Mexican restaurant. Since the excitement for Mexican has been building up in my stomach for about two weeks now, I was super pumped for this meal. We ordered a random assortment of food and shared everything, eating like scavengers. It's not that this Mexican restaurant was anything special as far as food quality goes-- it's just that I have been craving spicy food. Food flavored with something other than garlic, onion, and olive oil. We finished the night off right with a plate full of fried sugary things, covered in chocolate and raspberry sauce. It went real quick. Check out this progression, which only spans about sixty seconds of time:


I'm fairly confident that my stomach has doubled in capacity since I left the United States, and I'm okay with that.

Love me a good food coma.

Thursday and Friday went by in a flash. Like this guy:
On Thursday night, our program director led us to the outskirts of Salamanca to see a performance of Jesucristo Superstar, in Spanish of course. I have a hard time understanding the lyrics (and consequently, the plot) of musicals in English, let alone in Spanish. Fortunately, I have seen it in English before, I know the soundtrack, and well, I know Jesus. So while it was impossible to understand the lyrics, I could still follow.

After the show, we were given 15 euros to go find dinner on our own. Andrea and I have been craving Mexican food like ravenous pregnant women, so we led the charge to the one and only Mexican restaurant we knew of in Salamanca. About seven other students followed, yet we were severely disappointed to find out they were closing just when we arrived. Granted, it was 11:45 pm, but I thought Spaniards were use to eating that late? Guess not. So we took two steps to the left, and found an Italian restaurant that agreed to stay open for us.

What a find. Restaurants in Spain are known for having what they call "menu del dia", where for 10 euro, you get two courses of your choice, wine, and dessert. Sometimes the choices are a little peculiar or just plain crappy, but this Italian restaurant was packing some great treats. Round one, I got lasagna-- bangin. Round two, I got prosciutto pizza. I don't really eat meat products, but I thought I would go for it, and just eat around the prosciutto if I didn't want it. When I ordered it, I expected it to be more of a personal sized pizza, but no. It was definitely like twelve inches in diameter. It was also bangin. Every last inch of it.

So after entering a serious food coma, we all went home for a restful night of indigestion.

Coincidentally, the following day, I felt incredibly motivated to start exercising more. Considering I'm only in class for nine hours a week, and I sleep for about 85 hours a week, that leaves exactly 74 hours of unoccupied time. I guess I no longer have an excuse to not work out. So I went on a run with two other girls for about 45 minutes. After getting back to my apartment, my my endorphins were kickin and I was feeling more motivated than ever before to get back into good cardio shape. Andrea wanted to go on a walk later, so I figured, why not? Might as well keep my muscles loose before they get super sore from running for the first time in 14 years.

Little did I know our walk would turn into a two hour marathon training session. My legs were absolutly dead by the end of the afternoon.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that this is where I go to school.

The other night, I left one of my classrooms and I was slapped in the face by this:

That's right. This is where I go to school. Sometimes it feels a little fake.
Also, I like to look at all the cathedrals we visit and play a little game I like to call "Hide and Seek With Jesus". For example, find Jesus!

Okay, that cathedral was an easy one, but sometimes you have to find baby Jesus, and He can hide in some tiny places. We'll continue that game in the future...

One of the ways JMU thinks we should learn about Spain's culture is through a night of going out for tapas with a small group of students, and our two program directors. My night for tapas was on Monday, and boy was it delicious. I ate an arrangement of paella (flavorful rice with seafood), pimientos rellenos (peppers stuffed with cod and a creamy cheese sauce), tortilla española (a quiche-esque plate, made with egg and potatoes), verduras (garlicky green beans, peas, and artichokes), and calamari. The stuffed peppers were by far the best thing I have eaten since arriving in Spain. I don't know how to put words to it, but the flavors were just so rich. Creamy, cheesy, peppery-- amazing. Needless to say, I ate way too much that night, and then I washed it down with a personal sized serving of haagen dazs. Perfection.

The tapas group:

Last night, a few of us went out for a quiet night on the town, and ended up at this bar called Moe's, that had come highly recommended by a friend. Once we arrived, we were a little surprised to see that we were the only people there. Apparently, not many Spaniards go out on Tuesday nights, who would of thought? So we decided to stick around, even though we were the only people there asides from the lonely bartender. Definitely the right choice...

He started talking us up, and we told him our story, where we are from, why we're in Spain, you know...all those facts. And then we started making comments in English amongst ourselves, and he was like "No, no, no, you are in Spain now, you have to speak in Spanish." So we spent the rest of the night speaking in Spanish with the bartender, and among ourselves, and it was so great to be forced into. It was really good practice to be speaking with a native speaker in a relaxed and fun setting, where he was able to help us if we were stumbling over our words. Moral of the story: there will be many more visits to Moe's (although hopefully next time, we won't be the only ones).

The Lone Patrons of Moe's:

Tomorrow evening, we have a "Cultural Outing"!!!!! AKA, we are going to Jesucristo Superestrella. For you English speaking readers, that's Jesus Christ Superstar, the musical. SO pumped. I can't wait to witness how they translate some of those lyrics-- should really be something. Until then, Spanish love.

Spain, stop making me sick. Please.

Ok, so I have gone back and forth many times about whether or not I should share the events of my weekend. The concluding decision is that, yes, because it is the truth, I will share it. Regardless of embarrassing factors, too much information, or what not, I am committed to sharing the truth and only the truth.

Beginning Thursday evening, my digestive system began waging war on my body. Simply put, it refused to take part in any of the normal, healthy biological processes in which food is broken down, and then expelled from your body. This continued through Friday and Saturday.

Coincidentally, this weekend also happened to be when our Madre had family coming to visit-- her two sons, her daughter in law, and her granddaughter. So we had a pretty full house. On Saturday night, my stomach was rumbling like never before. While the rest of the house was asleep, I spent the hours of 1 AM to 4 AM trudging back and forth between the bathroom and my bed, trying to get over the nausea. At one of the many times I awoke, I felt seriously nauseaus so I brought the trashcan right next to my bed. And lucky thing I did, because soon enough, the remaining contents of my stomach woke me up as they were being spewed out of my mouth.

As you can assume, Andrea, sleeping 2 feet away from me, woke up in a fury, jumped out of bed, and turned on the light. In an attempt to avoid vomiting herself, she went into the bathroom to escape the smell (I would have done the same thing-- I can't handle vomit). So after she quickly jumped out of bed, she took two steps into the hallway, and all I know after that is I heard a loud THUD as her head hit the floor. See, Andrea has really low blood pressure. And after flying out of bed and then walking towards the bathroom, she fainted.

So let me recap--It's 4 AM, I'm in bed with my head hanging in a trashcan, Andrea is passed out on the hallway floor, and in that very moment, I hear the front door being unlocked. Our Madre's son and his wife just returned home after going out to a bar for the night. The entire house is awake, and the two of us are physically falling apart.

The entire house became involved with our respective afflictions-- Marta, the daughter in law, tended to Andrea in the hall, who had gone completely white, and was sweating out of every pore of her body. And our Madre dragged me into her bathroom and shoved my head into the toilet. At this point, she didn't even ask any questions-- I am sure she was convinced we were both drunk. After forcing her to stop freaking out and to actually listen to us, I think she realized we were both actually sick. The way she handled the whole situation was just really selfish-- she kept telling us how scared we made her, how she couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, how terrible we made her feel. Please. We were the ones falling apart.

So for the past day or so, I haven't been served any greasy, fried food. Only plain white rice, and simple, easy to digest meals. I might have to start pretending that I'm sick every day, because I'm finally being served foods that my body can handle, and I like it.