Late Night.

Hola.

Class continues to be intense (we’re covering what most of us have learned in the last two years or so in two weeks). We watched a movie the other day that no one understood that, I believe, involved stereotypes. The nine people in my class agreed that all we really got out of it was that a man with mutton chops that it looks like he stole right out of Dickens was catcalling a girl who walked by and that two men who looked ridiculously out of place in what would be Spanish “ghetto” clothing robbed a foreign couple.

We’re all getting lost less, though we’re not venturing very far beyond the three neighborhoods where everyone lives. But that’s where most of the places we’ll go and things we need will be, so I hope to know it fairly well with practice. I’m still fairly convinced that Sevillanos come with inborn homing devices like cats and pigeons.

One Thursday we did what was basically the equivalent of a bar crawl with some intercambios, which literally means “exchange” and is basically a person who helps you learn their native language (in this case, Spanish) if you help them learn your native language (English). It’s not terribly practical to travel around with huge hoards of people, especially easily disoriented Americans. But, overall, we managed pretty well.

Last night I went out with my roommate Fiorella and friend Ellen, which was a much more sensible traveling party. We checked out some bars and clubs along Calle Bettis, which is (as I’m sure you’ve gathered) where are the bars and clubs are located. It’s in Triana, across the river. We met a lot of American students studying in Spain. All being foreigners, everyone forms those brief bonds where you look out for strangers because they’re from your respective country. This comes in handy because there are an awful lot of super creepy guys around. One man repeatedly asked me “McCain or Obama? Why?” and nothing I said was the appropriate answer. And they all travel in packs, often separating one girl from her group of friends.

To educated briefly on “going out” in Spain. You don’t actually leave the house until midnight at the earliest. You better believe that I had a serious nap beforehand. Everyone stays out until 6 or 7 (and when we left some guy went “that’s early!”). Gonzalo, a Spanish advisor at Pitt, told me (in his adorable Spanish accent), “it’s not unusual to see people leaving the discoteca at 10 in the morning.” And if my household is any evidence, everyone is totally supportive of this.

Other than that I’m hanging out and eating oranges waiting for the weather to warm up a bit. My Spanish is improving but it’s definitely challenging to get around. Hope all is well with everyone!

Love,
Natalie

Sevilla

Hola.

So, I’ve been in Sevilla a few days and here are some fun facts:

1. There are so many small streets that in order to put them all together in a map-like form, it takes an entire gigantic book. Not only have I been told this, I’ve seen it in person. Subsequently, as a silly little American girl, I’m constantly getting lost. However, I’m finding all kinds of new and exciting places that I can never get back to a second time.

2. As one would expect, oranges here are positively scrumptious. I ate three in one day and my host family thought it was great.

3. Apparently Spaniards do not eat many vegetables, though they do eat more bread than I’ve ever eaten in my entire existence (okay, that might be a bit hyperbolic, but seriously, I miss vegetables).

4. A lot of streets are geometrically designed stone patterns, which are lovely to look at, but terribly uncomfortable for feet.

5. Women wear their hair in a more natural style here. It’s nice. If my hair is a little frizzy, I just fit in more, so I’m definitely all about it.

My host family is incredibly hospitable. Pacita (my host mom) smiles a lot and makes jewelry (which we’ve bonded over). She told Fiorella, my roommate, and I that we would be like her daughters and has given us a lot of privileges in the house. Jesus (my host father) is also very kind. For the past two days, he’s walked us to where we need to go and Fiorella, our friend Ellen, and I all follow behind like ducklings.  Jesus (host brother), who Fiorella and I refer to as Jr. (and will henceforth be known as such), doesn’t seem to be home very much. We don’t know much about him, but Pacita assured us that he’s just shy at first.

Getting lost has been a common occurrence for everyone in the program and we’re all tired from walking by the end of the day. Today, Fiorella and I asked how to get to our street and just about every person stared at us, wide-eyed, and said “Es tan lejos!” (It’s very far!). At this point, we’re so used to walking in circles that it never really seems that “far.”

The other day I was walking down the street and a boy who was about 10 stopped in front of me and mirrored me when I moved. At first I thought he was just being a funny kid (which I guess he was for his tres amigos). But then he started saying thinks in English and Spanish like “fuck your mother” and “you and me.” I wasn’t really sure what to do there; it looks pretty bad to bully a ten-year-old, now doesn’t it? But eventually I made eye contact with a woman and she inquired about what was going on and after the boy said, “I’m telling her ‘fuck your mother’,” she just nonchalantly asked “why?” And that ended it.

My first day of intensive classes was today. They were, well, kind of intense. It will essentially be five hours straight each day of learning things about Spanish, but I know I’ll be pretty darn prepared for my classes at la Universidad de Sevilla.

Besos!

Love,

Natalie

Toledo

Hola.

We went to Toledo yesterday morning. Toledo sits on a hill and subsequently, is not only a maze of narrow, cobblestone streets, but also very steep. Our tour guide stopped in front of a building and said “this is 200 years old, that’s new for us.” Everything is, by American city standards, ancient. Quique (short for Enrique), one of our directors, told us that what people think of as “Toledo” is only a small part of the actual city. Our hotel sits in a newer section, outside the, as he refers to it, “theme park” that is traditional Toledo.

At 10 tonight we took a cab into the old part of town. We started with tapas in a few cafés and bars. My friend Julia and I asked for recommendations from the bartender and ended up with squid and venison. I can’t speak with any authority, but am starting to notice that food comes swimming in olive oil here.

On a whim, Julia, Fiorella and I decided to take a picture in front of a statue in a park and ended up being swarmed by a group of 20-something Spaniards, who had been drinking and swinging (for those whose imaginations will wander too far: swings, like the kind you push children on in a park). Enthusiastically, they offered a sampling of their drinks (wine, coke, and lemon) and even “the marijuana,” which we politely declined for obvious reasons. We did, however, chitchat about music and politics and collectively agreed that “alguien es mejor que Bush/anyone is better than Bush.” 

Later at a club called Piccaro, Julia and I talked to a couple from Madrid. People warned me before I came that Spaniards (Europeans in general, actually) would be standoffish and reserved at first, but they were vibrant and expressive. I talked mostly with the guy, who teaches sports to children and rocked a tongue ring/sweater combo. He was animated and pantomimed a lot of his words, partially to help me understand, but also partially because of a humorous and theatrical disposition. They were, all around, warm people, nonchalantly correcting our Spanish and immediately feeling comfortable enough to tease us. She gave us her email and phone number, informing us that her home in Madrid was open to us.

Today we travelled into Sevilla and met our host families, but I’ll save that until I’m better acquainted with them. All for now, chicos!

Love,
Natalie

P.S. Also had a great photo op at some windmills in La Mancha.

a bit quixotic

Here

Hola.

So, I’ve made it to Spain. I haven’t really slept since I woke up Tuesday morning at 9am, so I’m sure that this won’t be the most eloquent post I’ve ever written. I feel considerably better than expected, though I might just be lying to myself. 

I managed to navigate through the Heathrow and Madrid airports with relatively few snags, save, perhaps for Madrid airport’s pictographic signs, which, frankly, are not deciphered with ease when jet lagged. I managed to befriend several other study abroad students on my flights, and, for the most part, avoided befriending several strange, inappropriately friendly men (so, it’s begun).

I’d love to describe Madrid, where I am currently located, but will do it more justice after a good night of sleep. I will, however, let you know that I have never seen such well-attired dogs in my life. So far there’s been a variety of bows, ribbons, sweaters, and even a full denim jumpsuit. I was a bit taken aback to see a woman walking three small dogs donning bows and ensembles, each in their respective color. I must admit, there’s a distinct unnaturalness to coordinating your outfits with your dogs. Admittedly, I find most of these dogs’ dresses to be atrocious and usually unnecessary.

I hope to be more engaging next time I write. By that I mean, I hope to be more capable of thinking of the words I’m looking to use and recalling the descriptions I had intended to write.

All for now.

Love,

Natalie

Almost There

Hello.

Very little time left until I find myself running around Spain. I’m mostly packed now save for a few odds and ends and the pieces of clothing I’ll fling in at the last moment in a desperate attempt to over-prepare. My suitcase is approximately the same weight as a chubby 2^nd grader, though infinitely more unwieldy. (Scratch that, just weighed it, it’s the same weight as a really fat 2^nd grader, which British Airways doesn’t like, so I’m going to give in and check two bags).

I’m a wee bit nervous, but I know I’ll love it. Ever since I set foot in Seville in 11^th grade, I’ve wanted to study there (though, at the time, I didn’t think about taking classes in Spanish). It’s beautiful there. I hope I can adequately paint a picture for you. I’ll do my best to snap pictures, but I tend to forget about my camera in the moment; so, at times, you may have to be content with my words.

Well, this is it, darlings. Not too long from now, the world is going to seem just a bit smaller as I acquaint myself with somewhere new. Here’s to hoping you all have splendid adventures of your own and enjoy reading about mine.

Love,

Natalie