December Puente

Ah, the Spanish puente--a long weekend. We've had quite a few puentes this year, although the majority have fallen on a Friday, when I conveniently don't work (a "first world problem": Woe is me, I can't take the day off because I already have that day off). The remaining long weekends I've spent either sick in bed or furniture shopping. Fun.

Now that things are settling in and I've spent a whole week without harboring some virus, Álvaro and I decided to travel out of Madrid to his pueblo in Garrucha.

Wait, what do you mean "his pueblo"? Time for a Spanish culture lesson.

Begin Culture Lesson

As it turns out, many Spaniards have a pueblo, that is, they have a home in another city where they usually spend summers or long weekends. In essence, it's a vacation home without the stuffy uppercrust connotations. Unlike in the US, a second vacation home doesn't seem to be limited to the upper class. In some cases, the pueblo is a small village where their family is from. To be fair, I'm not particularly knowledgeable on the subject. In any case, travelling with a Spaniard to their pueblo is a great (and relatively inexpensive) way of getting to know the country.

End Culture Lesson

We went to Álvaro's pueblo in Garrucha, a small fishing village on the coast of Almería. It's a 500+ kilometre drive from Madrid, so we left midday on Thursday to arrive before sunset. Now, escaping to the beach in the middle of December sounds pleasant in theory. Warmer temperatures? Sunshine? The Metiterranean coast? Great! Of course, many of houses in Garrucha are built to endure blistering summer temperatures. The inside of his house was maybe 10 degrees colder than the outside, which makes a difference when it's 50-60 degrees out. Additionally, Garrucha caters to summer tourists (many who flock from the colder climates in England), so many buildings and restuarants had closed for the season, leaving behind only the gypsies. In other words, it's not the best place to travel in the winter.

Wool coat at the beach? Yep. You can't see it, but there is totally a rainbow behind me.

Found a jaw at Playa de los Muertos. I wanted to take it home with me but I settled for this photo instead.

Cold. So cold.

Complaints aside, I really enjoyed the weekend. Friday was cold and cloudy--a shame since I was excited to see the famed blue-green waters of the Metiterranean. Still, we drove down the coast along a protected natural park and took in the sights (mostly from the heated comfort of the car).

So much wind

Saturday, the sun came out and the temperatures warmed up. Unfortunately, Álvaro slept until noon, and by the time he got dressed and packed his things it was time to leave. 

Yep. Perfect weather

Looks like I'll have to go back in the summer!

The Holidays

It's December already? Have I really been in Spain for almost four months? Where has the time gone? Admittedly, I haven't had much to update in the past month. I am finally settling into my life here. The apartment is slowly starting to feel like home. I'm meeting new people and building new friendships. Slowly but surely things are coming together, and hopefully this travel blog will have some actual travelling.

Unfortunately, I've spent November nursing various illnesses. Yes, in my last blog update I was battling a rather nasty common cold. Not three days after recovering, I developed a persistent cough and once again I was sick. OK, bad luck on my part. At least that time I enjoyed a full week of good health before coming down with what I assume was a mild case of the flu. During the last month, I spent the majority of my free time in bed. It doesn't exactly make for an interesting post. What can I say? Kids are germy.

Hopefully my excessive handwashing will reward me with good health and allow me to actually enjoy my weekends. In the meantime, here's an update on what has happened:

• Elections. Since Spain is nine hours ahead of California, I opted to sleep during the election results. It's a bit surreal to wake up the next morning and not know who won. 
• Huelga General (General Strike). Spain loves to strike. We've had three or four in my time here, but this was larger than most. Stores closed, the metro ran at 30% capacity, students stayed home. We auxiliares still had to go to school, although we literally had nothing to do. I spent the first 3/4 of the day browsing my iPod, and the last hour watching a movie. 
• Thanksgiving. How does one spend a traditional American (or Canadian) holiday in a foreign country? Unlike Halloween, Thanksgiving hasn't become popular with Spaniards. Moreover, common foods like pumpkin puree, whole turkey, and cranberry sauce can be difficult--not to mention expensive--to find. My apartment doesn't have an oven, which makes preparing the majority of these dishes impossible. Thankfully, Madrid has a fairly large American immigrant population, and some bars/restuarants offered Thanksgiving dinners (for a hefty price). So, we went out to dinner and gorged ourselves on an all-you-can eat turkeyfest. Sure, we didn't get to enjoy the smell of food cooking, or the leftovers the following day, but we did eat pumpkin pie. Pumpkin pie makes the world a better place.

So now the Christmas season is upon us! The cold weather has set in, the leaves have [mostly] fallen from the trees, and the Christmas lights are up and lit in the city! This will be my first ever Christmas away from home, so this year I'll have to improvise some of the holiday traditions. I can't bake cookies or roast...well, anything (again, no oven), but I can [attempt to] make eggnog and mulled cider/wine. Our tiny apartment cannot accomodate a full-sized tree, so we're making due with a teeny tiny artificial one. Hey, at least it's fiber optic.

Assuming the Spanish postal system works as intented (packages can take a week or several months, depending on the day, current air speed, the phase of the moon, etc), I should still have presents to open the day of. Unfortunately, I expect to wait hours and sacrifice my first-born child to collect said presents from customs (whose office is conveniently located in Mordor). Ah, the price I'll pay for a sense of normalcy. Thankfully I can at least use my American bank account to order gifts from American stores (Amazon, Target, etc) to be shipped to my family. The wonders of technology.

Dead Man's Party

When I was a kid, Halloween was my favorite holiday. Come October, I'd beg my parents to drive me to Target to browse the Halloween decorations. I watched Nightmare Before Christmas on VHS until the tape wore out. I loved dressing up and especially loved the free candy. Even though, as an adult, Christmas has surpassed Halloween as my favorite holiday, come October 31 I find a way to inject a bit of the macabre into my day.

So what does one do when they are in a foreign country on Halloween?

To be fair, I've come at a time where Halloween is becoming a more "recognized" holiday here in Spain. My teachers recount, years ago, when no one had heard of it. Now, our school puts up Halloween decorations and the kids dress in costume.

See that small pumpkin? I made that.

Nevertheless, it's not quite the same here in Spain. You can't exactly go "trick or treating" when most people live in apartment complexes. Even finding a pumpkin turned out to be a bit of a challenge, but thankfully my local grocery store sold some.

Also pictured: Halloween-themed nails

Unfortunately, I've been sick since Monday (for the record, today is Saturday), which has put a damper on my holiday celebrations. I almost took the 31st off, but thought against it since I was curious to see how my school celebrated Halloween. The first half of the day is normal, but after lunch the kids (and teachers!) change into costume and have a Halloween "parade." Then everyone goes home.

Pirate! The coat is for storing tissues

Teachers in costume: dead Infanta Margarita (my favorite costume) and a mummy

Waiting for the parade to start

Had to admire this kid's dedication to stay in character

Dance party!

I'm glad I went, but afterward I decided to spend the night in and rest. Madrid probably has some great Halloween parties, but I was in no shape to go out.

Alvaro bought me these to make me feel better. Notice the box of Frenadol (Spanish cold medicine).

I carved my pumpkin which catching up on season 7 of Dexter. While I had hoped to spend the night in bed with some good horror movies, Alvaro's mom ended up visiting and I spent the evening cleaning instead. Oh well.

Happy Halloween!

Poco a poco

OK, so a month has passed without updates. Here's an quick list on what's happened since:

• Plane ride went well. I had a personal television screen on both flights, and I watched the Avengers. Everything arrived on schedule and without complaints.
• I spent the first week or so with Álvaro's family in Leganés. While it was infinitely better than a hostal, I definitely started to get cabin fever, and wanted to settle in to my new apartment.
• Moved in to the apartment. It was a bit surreal to see the buildings and stores that I had previously stalked on GoogleMaps. Ah, the wonders of technology.
• I spent two weeks without a cell phone and without internet. On an unrelated note, I also finshed three books in that time span. 
• I went to a Spanish wedding!
• I started my new job as a language assistant.
• Álvaro and I have gone furniture shopping more times than I'd like to think about, without actually buying any furniture. I hate furniture shopping. 
• Migranes! I've had too many migranes. I've started carrying aspirin at all times. 

In between the humdrum of settling in, I haven't had much time to play tourist or meet people. To be honest, even after a month in Spain, we still have a laundry list of things to do/buy/fix, and I haven't really had the chance to spend a weekend doing anything fun. 

It's been a challenging month, which has definitely contributed to my lack of updates. I have cursed this country. I have threatened to pack my things and move home. I have collapsed into a weeping mess. Shocking news: moving to a foreign country is hard. I miss my friends, my family, and my cat. I miss the ease of going to Target and buying everything in one store. One month in, and I still have my stuff packed in bags on the floor, because we don't have enough furniture to store everything. 

But! Things are getting better. Poco a poco, they say. Little by little. I started without an apartment, without a phone, without an internet connection. Now, I spend my evenings snuggled on my [admittedly ugly] couch while streaming Game of Thrones. I celebrate the little victories, like installing a new faucet or stocking the fridge with food. The tough times still come--those lonely moments where I ask myself What am I doing here?--but they come less often. 

And what of my job? I came here to work as an auxiliar de conversación, an English language assistant. I was most worried about this role, since I've zero experience as a teacher. I like it! OK, some moments are frustrating, but I generally like coming into the school every day (well, Monday-Thursday). More on that later.

I'm not good with conclusions. BLOG POST OVER.

T-Minus

Once again I've fallen off the blog-writing bandwagon. Whoops. My visa appointment came and went without much hassle. I turned in my documents and picked them up again--with the addition of a shiny new visa--four weeks later. In between I've had my own slice of Spain stateside and I got to play tourist.

My flight leaves tomorrow, which has left my room looking like a disaster zone as I'd attempted to condense my life in one sub-50lb suitcase, one duffle bag, and a backpack. As usual, I think I've over-packed. Everything should be ready, save a few last-minute additions.

This past week I've been a bundle of nerves. My chest is heavy. My heart is racing. I have a headache. I'm not too concerned, as I went through something similar last year when I went to study abroad. I won't undo over a year of planning because, at the last minute, I got cold feet. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but the move has the potential to evolve into something more long-term. I know it. My family knows it. Of course, I'm not making plans yet. Two years ago I went to Madrid with the intent of seeing Europe for the first and last time before settling down into the "real" world. Tomorrow I head back to Spain for the third time to teach English. To be honest, I'm not sure where this will lead. I have a one-way ticket and an undecided future. What happens next?

To my friends and family, I love you all and I'll miss you. But by this point I've accepted that I'll always have my heart spread across the country (or in this case, countries). We're all moving on to wherever life takes us, but fortunately we live in a digital age. Keep in touch. And if you happen to find yourself in Spain, you know who to call.

Here we go.

Things to Come

20 days to go until my visa appointment. I have all my important documents together, save a few passport photos, which leaves me to do little more than wait. I've been advised to hold off on buying a flight until I have the visa in my possession, which is somewhat frustrating given my desired departure date is about two months away. As I've said before, one must be patient with this program.

But I do have one bit of interesting development behind the scenes. I may have an apartment waiting at the end of the rainbow once I'm in Madrid. My circumstance is a bit unusual, as it's not generally recommended for auxiliares to plan their living situation before arriving in the city. Since nothing is currently set it stone, I'll share the details once everything is finalized. In the meantime, here's the view from the prospective-apartment's balcony:

Making Progress

This is a program to test your patience.

I applied in early November. I waited through Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day in silence. April came, with rumors that first-year applicants would be receiving placements. Instead, we were told that Cataluña, Castilla la Mancha, and Valencia would be cancelling the program altogether, while Andalucía would reduce the number of acceptances by half. Amid this troubling news, coupled with Spain's banking crisis, I wondered if the whole auxiliares program would collapse altogether, leaving all my best laid plans for naught.

Thankfully, May brought good news. I had been accepted to the Comunidad de Madrid. For those unaware, the program assigns hopeful language assistants to an autonomous community, at which point we can choose to accept or decline said placement. At this point, we don't know what city they will send us to.

I'll be somewhere in that red squiggly line

As a future madrileña, this generally means that I will live in the city of Madrid and likely commute to my assigned school. Madrid's central location and well-connected public transit network makes it ideal for travel.

In comparison, those placed in Andalucía would be much more uncertain regarding their future living situation.

So many options!

Nevertheless, as a planner by nature, I like to do my research. After a year of planning and waiting and hoping, I am eager to start looking at apartments and figuring out what neighborhoods would best suit my commute.

Finally, on Wednesday, I received my carta de nombramiento, stating my school name and location. I now have a physical address and a website to confirm that this is really happening and a position in Spain exists for me. Even better, I'm located in the actual city of Madrid.



View Calle de Adanero, 3 in a larger map
The school's website

Admittedly, things are still moving slower than I'd like. My visa appointment is not until July 27 (there were no earlier openings), and I am advised against purchasing plane tickets until the visa has been approved. With three months until my intended departure, I had hoped to have a more finalized itinerary. Nevertheless, I'm slowly making progress.

To whet your appetite

I'll spare the long-winded introduction. From Made in Spain, highlighting Madrid's cultural and culinary achievements. I watched both episodes before my first trip to Madrid in January 2011. ¡Que aproveche!

Watch A Cultural and Culinary Capital on PBS. See more from Made in Spain.

Watch The Sweet Spanish Center on PBS. See more from Made in Spain.

Adventures at Home

A travel blog without the travel is admittedly not the most interesting. Some days I think, "It's been a week, I should probably post something to get into the habit of this 'blog' nonsense." Then I remember that all I've done thus far is sit around the house watching TV and playing with my cat.

To be fair, he's a really cute cat

At the moment, I'm stuck in limbo. For the past year, I've been planning for a life that has yet to come to fruition. I have been slowly gathering documents and making appointments and checking off boxes in preparation for the big move to Madrid. I am waiting for the next step, for the next stage of my life to begin. Come September I will be heading across the Atlantic, moving in with my boyfriend after a year of long-distance, and starting a new job. It's no small feat. But it in the meantime, I am living with my parents, with no job and no social life.

With an abundance of free time and an absence of money, I started running. Perhaps running isn't the right word. I lumbered along in some imitation of a jog. Nevertheless, it was the easiest way of getting out of the house without a specific destination, and only required a pair of shoes. I followed the Couch to 5k program, and eventually improved to the point where I could run 30 minutes non-stop. I decided to reward myself by signing up for an actual 5k race.

It's worth noting, for those unaware of my personality, that sports and I mix like oil and water. I avoided organized physical activity as a child and throughout my teenage years, opting instead for the drama club and academic decathlon. Running so much as a mile resulted in side-stitches and shame.

But for some reason my twenty-three year old self thought that willingly waking up at 5:00 am on a Saturday to run 3.1 miles sounds like a grand ol' time. 

Look at all that fun

What does this all have to do with Spain? I could draw a parallel and write about perseverance, and the rewards of stepping out of your comfort zone. While this is all true, I mostly just want to brag about running five kilometers and not dying.

Whoo!

Redux

This was my old travel blog. I began with the good intentions of chronicling my first ever transatlantic trip abroad to friends and family back in California, but quickly abandoned my efforts once my time abroad turned sour and I publicly expressed my feelings of isolation. At the time, I was having trouble bonding with the other Americans in my study abroad program. I never really cultivated the close friendships that others did, which consequently left me on the outside of many group dynamics. So, on a particularly miserably and rainy day, I decided to blog about it. It is the last, and most recent post. I stopped blogging thereafter, too ashamed to draw anymore attention to what I had written.

Unfortunately, this means that I also had neglected to document what followed March 5, 2011. Admittedly things initially worsened. Shortly thereafter, I ended my four year relationship. I had cut away someone that I had known since I was fourteen years old, and while I had chosen to do so, I didn't quite know how to deal with the consequences.

But there came a turning point. In late March, I flew to Amsterdam and put my trust in a complete stranger. We had met in a hostel in Paris, and had only really spent one day together, but he had offered his couch if I ever chose to visit. So I took his offer. 

The hostel group in Paris. A fine bunch of people. My Dutch host is on the left. 

To be fair, two other girls from the hostel couch-surfed at his apartment before I did, and they were clearly not murdered. Nevertheless, I was travelling alone and staying in the home of some guy I only kind of knew. And it turned out to be one of my fondest travel memories!

Amsterdam

I got to see the city as more than just "coffee shops" and prostitutes. It helped that my host and I shared a love of good food, good beer, and cappuccinos. The trip was more low-key than others, as I didn't really have a set itinerary and mostly went along for the ride. Overall, it felt more like hanging out with someone than travelling. After spending months of living in someone else's house in a foreign country, you begin to miss just casually spending a laid-back evening with someone. Moreover, the whole trip restored my faith in humanity (pardon the drama). Some people can be pretty awesome.

That trip also taught me a lesson in being alone. I met my Dutch host (and some other equally great people) after my original Parisian travel group more or less abandoned me. I got to experience a local's view of Amsterdam because I went ahead bought a plane ticket without anyone to accompany me. Being alone forced me to reach out and accept new people and experiences.

I had just met everyone that morning

I started going to intercambios for this reason. I didn't want to spend my days in Madrid sitting in my room. So I went out, and forced myself to meet people. For those unfamiliar, an intercambio is a language-exchange--usually held in a bar--where people get together and try to practice speaking their desired language. Many Spaniards go there to practice their English with expats, who in turn try and improve their Spanish. The experience helped me to improve my language skills, and introduced me to some people I would not have otherwise met.

This is actually from my trip BACK in January. This is what happens when you leave your comfort zone. You make friends in foreign countries.

As cliché as it may sound, the experience changed my life. I boarded my plane to the United States in May 2011 with the clear intention of returning to Madrid. A year has passed; since then I've traveled up and down the state of California, rung in the new year in Madrid, been hired AND fired from a new job, trained for a 5k (after being a self-proclaimed non-runner), and said goodbye to two childhood pets. Nevertheless, I've maintained an unwavering devotion to finding my way back to Spain. As of last Tuesday, I have officially been accepted as a North American Language and Culture Assistant in the communidad de Madrid.

Now begins Part II of the adventure. Here we go again. 

Madrid, here I come!