Roma

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? Well , I did my best. Arriving at our ¨house¨we realized that this company had done some very decietful things with their advertising and what we thought was going to be a chateau turned out to be a shack. What was supposed to be a fold out queen bed was a piece of wood with a single piece of foam on top, and the porch was about as big as the whole place. Not only was the shack small and poorly made, but the location was horrible, we realized we were probably going to have to take a cab into the town every day and night.
Since I was the one tagging along on their vacation I decided to leave and find a hostal for myself so that the girls wouldnt have to share a bed. My friends thought I was a little crazy to do so, but I left early the next morning to navigate the train and metro by myself, find a hostal and check myself in. It was so exciting to be honest being on my own in such a city finding my own way, I had the sensation that the whole world was at my fingertips. After checking in I headed to the Colosseo. My phone was out of money and what I hadnt planned for was that I couldnt recharge it in Italy. Therefore, I was without any possible communication to my friends and the only thing I knew was that they may also be going to the Colosseo that morning. I very luckily found them and we took a tour of the Colosseo and Roman Forum, ate some delicious Italian pasta, saw the Circo Massimo at night and a cute Italian coffee shop for some drinks afterwards. The next day I visited the Vatican Museum early in the morning, got myself some gelato, not to be confused with ¨ge la do¨ (if you speak Italian you know what I am saying), visited Basilica de San Pietro, and took a nap. Later my friends and I met up for Pub Crawl, which is a organized bar hop that includes all you can drink beer, all you can eat pizza, an opportunity to meet travelers from around the world, and the most exciting of course, a free t-shirt to be your testimony that you were there, because you most likely won´t remember it.
The next day I saw the Spanish Steps, made a wish in Trevi fountain, ate more gelato, walked around the Jewish Ghetto, visited the Pantheon, and ended at Circo Massimo again. It was much prettier during the day, this park where the Romans raced chariots. The sun put a beautiful happy roman glow on all the Italians lounging and playing music and futbol in the park. I was in heaven. I later met up with two gals from my hostal for a trip down to the part of Rome that is not on the tourist maps! It was so exciting, we had very vague directions but the lure of an ¨authentic Italian scene¨ so we wandered and found a delightful Italian bar perfect for people watching as we could sit outside in the warm weather. To our delight there were no tourists to watch, we were surrounded by Italian, not English, and a group of entertaining friends sat at the table next to us playing guitar and singing. We sat for hours just absorbing the Italian wine, food, music, beautiful people and beautiful architecture. If all of Rome was like this neighborhood I would move there in a heartbeat, but sadly, Rome will always be a place full of foreigners. I did decide on this trip though, that after I learn German I am going to focus on Italian, and hopefully spend some time living there, because I completely fell in love with everything Italy. I already can understand about 30 percent of Italian as well because it is so similar to Spanish, so it should be relatively easy to learn.

"Dia de Puta Madre"

I heard a quote once that happiness is having something to look forward to, and today would prove to be demonstrative example. Although I try to avoid speaking English while I am in Spain because I have the rest of my life for that, I really appreciate the humor and the comraderie I experience with m three American friends Carlie, Charlene, and Jordan. At lunch Carlie told me that her boyfriend rented a house in Rome that I am welcome to come and stay with them…so all I have to do is buy a plane ticket and some museum entrance fees and Rome is within sight! I cant believe that it is already almost March and the spring is about to begin. I booked my tickets from Granada (where I will be after Marrueccos) to Milan for two days and then Bari for 6six. Adding this excitement was almost too much and I felt like I had about 6 cups of coffee in my system. I shook all through class. Luckily, I asked my art history professor if we could have class outside in the gorgeous sunny weather to which he not only replied yes, he drove us in his car downtown to learn about the architectural development of the port town of Santander and view the progression of the building as they extend further east along the water.
Later, Alvaro returned my phone call and asked if we could grab a drink. While I am very grateful to his mom for setting me up with a potential friend I do not think I will be meeting with him again. Conversation, smiles, and general happiness all seemed painful for him and during every topic we discussed he would stubbornly tell me that I was mistaken in my way of thinking. Also, even though he had spent 4 months in Ireland and knew what it was like to be a foreigner trying to learn a new language he was impatient and unhelpful with my Spanish. Generally I am surprised with how many people in Spain are full of life, loving the present, and happy, but Alvaro was an exception. I hate categorizing people, but people like Alvaro who act as though to go through life is a big inconvenience are a waste of my time and energy, besides, they seem to be determined to not let anyone or anything help make it more tolerable. What I got out of the meeting was a perfect picture of what I never want to be, and beer.
While eating my Spanish fish and French fries at dinner the friendly young man sitting next to me happened to be studying psychology as well and was as passionate about it as I am. Refreshingly, I was back in touch with the kind of people that are excited to be here on earth, want to soak up life like a sponge, and eager to learn solely for the sake of learning. We discussed in English and Spanish our favorite parts of psychology, what we want to do with it and what the drive to help people feels like. He also happens to be from Valencia, which is a city I would love to visit soon for a world famous festival they have yearly. All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a day more “de puta madre”. I am still trying to use this phrase without feeling ridiculous, because the idea is “it was the bomb” but the literal translation is ¨of mother bitch”. I apologize if my usage of this expression offends any readers, but try to remember that language generally is best not translated literally and also that to swear in Spain is much more common; professors swear in front of their students, and children swear in front of their families.
They also especially swear in futbol games, or soccer for you Americans! If you want to hear some of the crazy ones I can tell you in person, but they are too vulgar to post here. We tied, so it was an exciting game against Barcelona. They are so into soccer here that even on a rainy cold Sunday the stadium was completely packed and Barcelona had even brought their own band to play while they cheered their special Barcelonian cheers.

Bienvenidos a Santander

Most people whom I told I did not know where I was living when I arrived in Santander told me I was crazy. They either straight up said this or they told me with wide and judging eyes that I was "very brave".
Santander was way bigger than I anticipated. I pictured a sleepy little beach town and it very much so feels like a city to me. It has a more European feel to it than Granada in the south and it is, as people warned me, very green. Arrival day was sunny and gorgeous and I happily strolled the streets I hoped to call mine soon, as I found my hostel, which I would call home base for a short while. Finding a local newspaper, (smiling to myself that it is in Spanish and that I can read it), I made many appointments to view apartments the next day. I got a hold of one seemingly nice lady named Besna who told me that for two months I could have her room and she would sleep in the living room because she wasn’t quite ready to leave. She said I should come check out the place, and that even if I didn’t like it I could stay until I found something else. At first I thought it was an overly nice and unnecessary gesture, but then after remembering the forty five dollars a night I was paying in the hostel, I decided that even if it was odd, it was worth it. Upon arriving I realized that something was not right, but I didn’t quite figure it out until we all sat down around the kitchen table to “discuss things” and the two tenants sat cross-armed and clearly upset about something, not exactly a welcoming party... I was quickly thrown into an argument about how Besna was thinking only of herself, in that she thought that since she found me to take her room, that she was not going to pay to live in the living room for two months. I liked other tenants, two Italian girls my age, right away because even though they were angry I could tell that they were kind at heart. They were simply standing up for their right to only have three people in the tiny little apartment for which they paid to have three, not four. Besna was clearly being manipulative and rather than being able to discuss what was fair with us she wanted all of us to meet with the landlord, who conveniently was her friend. despite being Besna´s friend, the landlord was an older woman that saw right through what was happening. I liked that she took charge and was not going to let any of the girls get away with anything. She told them that they should not have come to her place to discuss things, that she was not going to be the counselor and that if anyone should be thrown out it should be me…with which I agreed. I could not believe that I was considered to be such an important part of the equation, and can only explain it by acknowledging that Besna wanted dearly for me to evoke sympathy in the Italian girls so she could get her way. After we could finally persuade Besna that four people would not be living in the apartment, I then tried to explain that the situation was now too stressful for me, as I was on vacation, and that I thought it best if I went back to the hostel. However by this time I think they began to feel embarrassed that they had put me in the middle of such a mess and wanted to make up for it by keeping me as a temporary guest in their house while I searched for a permanent home. I agreed after much persuasion, but made about seven appointments for the next day to ensure I would find something else quickly.
The day was so strange that it felt surreal. It was an experience that comes with traveling I suppose and that I am happy that I can look back on with good humor, in fact that even as it was happening I thought the whole situation was ridiculous and comical. In the end the whole story is worth telling because the two Italian girls, Sara and Lorena are good friends of mine now, and it just goes to prove how strange circumstances can often serve as pathways to friendships. They have invited me to stay with them in their homes in Bari, southern Italy, for our spring break, and I found tickets for only 133 euros. And they made me some killer Italian coffee and spagetti:)