The Bright Side

Always look on the bright side of life

I've been in a funk. Don't get me wrong, I am still enjoying my time in Spain, but I find myself grumbling about work, about the weather, about the slightest inconvenciences (You mean I have to work a full four days instead of three? Ugh). I think this six-month winter is the culprit. I enjoy the cold and the change in temperature, but it's been gloomy since October. It rained constantly during the month of March, and I'm ready for sunny skies. This time two years ago I was sporting light sweaters and spending my free time in the park. Now, I'm still bundled under layers of wool while I look out my window and the ceaseless downpour. Maybe I should build an ark.

Whoops, there I go complaining in a post that supposed to be positive. Lately, I've been trying to combat my sour mood by reminding myself that good things are coming.

The Weather
I've admittedly become obsessed with the weather forecast as of late. I'm constantly hunting for the promise of sunny skies. I am ready for spring. Spain is a different country when the weather warms up. The winter hibernation ends. People flock to terraces to drink beer in the warm afternoon. Parks are filled with bikes, children playing, picnics, and overly-affectionate couples. I look around and everything is turning green. Flowers are blooming in the overgrown grass. I am finally starting to shed my winter coat, and this weekend promises sunshine and warm air. When the weather is nice, I can stroll around the city without worrying about ducking into some bar for shelter. Not to mention, my tiny apartment has a disproportionatly large terrace which is ideal for hanging out and enjoying a glass of wine. Fellow auxiliares, be prepared for an invite.

More of this, please

Travel

Ok, so I haven't actually got any big trips planned, and with the rising airline prices and lack of summer employment, it looks like I won't be going very far this year. BUT, I do have some pending trips up my sleeve. Álvaro and I bought a Groupon for a hotel and wine-tasting in La Rioja (Spain's "wine country"), and all that's left is to book the hotel. I'm really looking forward to exploring more of this country.

Also, in June I'll be making a second trip to Barcelona. After such a good experience with the high-speed trains, I realized that a day trip was actually possible. So, with my parents, we'll have a good twelve hours to explore the most interesting parts of the city. No luggage, no hotels. Just hop on the train and back.Which brings me to my next point....

My parents are visiting!!!!

Frankly, this subject could use some more exclamation points. I've actually been sitting on this piece of news since January. They'll be staying for two weeks, arrving in late May when the weather should be at its best (there I go with the weather again). Unfortunately, I'll still have to work but we'll have the afternoons and three-day weekends to spend together. My parents have never been to Europe, so I'm particularly proud that I've given them the excuse to come abroad. I can't wait to show them around. Also, they'll get to meet Álvaro's parents, which should be interesting, given that they don't speak Spanish (and his parents don't speak much English). Still, I haven't seen them since early September and I couldn't be happier.

Interim

Semana Santa is over, and it's back to work. Since I've slacked in regards to posting, I've figured that now would be a good time to update on the little things that have happened between La Granja and Barcelona. Adjusting to a new country hinges on forming a routine. For the first six months, life was constantly changing. Álvaro and I were furnishing the apartment, and every other week I was battling a new ailment. I barely had time to meet new people, and consequently it was a rough few months.

I can't say I feel completely settled, but I've since adapted to life in Spain. Some of it I attribute to pure luck. This year, they've opened both a library and a gym less than five minutes from my apartment. I now fill in the awkward two hour lunch break with Spanish-language books, and I try to dedicate at least an hour after work to go to the gym. It's a good excuse to get out of the house and feel like I've accomplished something that day.

I've also started to find cafés, bars, and restaurants which have become my "go-to" spots on the weekends. Almost all are in the Malasaña neighborhood of Madrid (known for being young and trendy), and all attract American expats. I enjoy Spanish culture, but after spending almost eight months here I find comfort in more Americanized specialties: craft beer, brunch, latte art--all of which are a bit out of the range of "typical" Spanish cuisine.

On a more interesting note, I also witnessed a gas line explode on my street in early March. I had a birds-eye view from my terrace before deciding that I should probably evacuate the building, at which point the power was shut off, making it a moot point to hang around in a dark apartment.

So that's about it, I suppose. Have some photos.

Gas line explosion

I test my mediocre art skills on my 2nd graders

Finally found good beer in Spain

Barcelona

Everyone break out your bikini and sunscreen because it's SPRIIIIIING BREEEEAAAAK!!!!

Wait, I forgot that this isn't Southern California and it's been raining all month. Also, I don't even own a bikini.

But in all seriousness, Semana Santa--or Easter Holidays--is the last big "travel break" before work ends in June. The perks of being an auxiliar include the sweet, sweet vacation time. Including weekends, we have a whole 11 days of freedom. It's the perfect time to explore the corners of Europe.

Of course, the airlines know that, and its also one of the more expensive times to explore the corners of Europe.

Combined with an indecisive boyfriend, it looked like I would be spending yet another holiday in my apartment living vicariously through my Sim. But, after some prodding by Dan, I was convinced into booking a last-minute train ride to Barcelona. Álvaro was also granted some last-minute vacation time and our last-minute adventure was underway last-minutedly.

Tuesday, 26 March
We left on Tuesday morning, arriving an hour and a half early for our train ride. The beauty of trains is that you only really need to arrive at the station, show your ticket, and get on the train. No separation of liquids or removing of shoes. This makes arriving so early a bit excessive, and it wasn't exactly the smartest move.

Three hours  and one nap later we had arrived, and after a short metro ride we were at the hostel. Did I mention that trains are great? We spent the morning exploring the city. The weather was great--a relief after the never-ending gloom and rain in Madrid. We strolled around the park in Montjuïc and walked up to the fortress at the top.

We hadn't yet set an itinerary, so this day consisted mostly of walking around and looking at things.  After an early train ride, we were both tired.

Wednesday 27 March
After being treated to blue skies and breezy weather, the clouds moved in and threatened rain. The temperatures altered between misty and cold, and hot and humid. Not the best day weather-wise. We set out to see the Sagrada Familia, the famous church designed by Gaudí and still under construction. I've seen it before, but it most certainly merits a return visit. Protip: buy a ticket online for a preset visiting time to avoid waiting in a a long line.

Interior

Passion Façade

We ate some Vietnamese food and decided to walk up to Parc Guëll. I was inexplicably tired that day, and the overcast weather wasn't helping my mood. I can't say I particularly enjoyed the uphill climb, and the normally spectacular view from the top was muddled by fog and clouds. Would I do it again? Yeah, probably.

Thursday 28 March

We had perfect weather! Warm, sunny, breezy. We went on a walking tour of the Gothic Quarters, where we learnt about the history of Barcelona and spent some time enjoying the sun in a park. We strolled along the beach at sunset. At night, we met up with Dan and ate some tasty paella. It was probably one of my favorite days of the trip.

Friday 29 March

Our last day! We had to catch a train at 9pm, giving us the majority of the day to relax and see a few last-minute sights. We toured the Palau Guëll, a mansion designed by Gaudí, visited the Picasso museum (it was interesting to see his older works, before the cubism), entered the old cathedral, and looked at a bit more Gaudí architecture. Then, we collected our bags and headed to the train station. By midnight we were back in rainy Madrid.

Final Thoughts:

I enjoyed my trip in Barcelona. It was a chance to see something a bit different, a bit less typically Spanish. The city boasts an eclectic mix of modern architecture and old Gothic neighborhoods (even a few Roman ruins).  Not to mention, it's a strange concept to travel within the same country and suddenly no longer understand the language. In Cataluña, they speak Catalan (one of the official languages in Spain). Of course, it didn't matter too much because as soon as people saw my face they immediately addressed me in English, which brings me to my next point...

Barcelona felt like a tourist trap. Maybe it was influenced by the Easter holidays, where everyone (myself included) dreamt of warm, sunny weather. During my stay, I think I heard more English (and to some extent, German) than either Spanish or Catalan. 

Negativity aside, it's a cool city, which merits a visit. I've already suggested a day trip (seriously, the trains are that amazing) with my parents in May/June, so there's a chance I could be going back soon.

La Granja

I took this trip from March 2-3. 

It's been a long while since my first trip back in December. This time around we still relied on Álvaro's connections--this time his aunt and uncle--to stay at their house in La Granja. It's a small village just outside of Segovia, known for its royal palace built for Filipe V in 1751 (thank you, Wikipedia). 

I'm not unfamiliar with La Granja. Back in February 2011, almost two years before this trip, I came here with a large group on a weekend trip from Segovia to Salamanca. La Granja was a small one-hour blip on our radar. We arrived there in the morning, toured the palace, and made our way to Segovia (and later to Ávila and Salamanca).

Two years ago

To be fair, there isn't much to do as a tourist besides see the royal palace and the surrounding gardens. The town itself is tiny--you can essentially walk around the town in about an hour. I'd recommended a day trip, but we stayed for two days. More than anything, it was a chance to get out of the city and see the last bit of snow before spring. 

Nevertheless, it was a bit surreal to be back. Two years ago, I hadn't yet met Álvaro. In fact, I was still in a different relationship, still unaware that it would end in the coming month. I certainly didn't see myself back in Spain, let alone in this small village. Moreover, his family's house was just down the street from where the bus dropped our group off back in February. I can't say there are any coincidences in these circumstances, but I couldn't help feel a bit connected to my past. 

View from his aunt and uncle's house. 

Royal Palace

In the Gardens

Walking around

24

For the record: I started writing this post several weeks before Semana Santa, but I never got around to completing it. Whoops. Better late than never. Just pretend that it's early March.

Following tradition, I'll start with an update on my health. Currently not sick, despite an outbreak of the black plague at my school. But in all seriousness, everyone is ill and it's only a matter of time before it strikes me down. Whatever, I'm used to it.

February was a short but busy month. Although I only work Monday through Thursday, twice a week I'm out of the house until 10 pm, and on my "short" days I arrive at around 8 pm.

I turned 24 a couple of weeks ago, on the 16th. I was lucky enough to have a birthday that fell on a Saturday. I've never been one for big birthday celebrations, mostly due to leading a quiet social life and being too chicken to invite people out to do things. Also, everyone I knew seemed to have other plans that weekend. C'est la vie. But I was graced with pleasant weather that day, and Álvaro and I tried out a typically Spanish restaurant/bar in our neighborhood and walked around a shopping center for a bit. Nothing special, but it was an overall nice day. My parents sent a coffee maker to indulge my addiction, and I treated myself to a new pair of boots. Birthdays for me have always been a rather quiet affair.

Then, as I was dreaming of springtime and short-sleeve shirts, the weather turned sour. The temperatures dropped into the low 40s and on Álvaro's birthday it snowed for a few hours.

I have turned into a snowman.

I tried to put on my "good-girlfriend pants" and buy Álvaro a birthday cake, with--erm--modest success. First, cheesecake in Spain ("tarta de queso") is a sad, sad excuse for a cheesecake. The inside was the consistency and flavor of whipped creme. Second, when asked for a name, I interpreted it as a name for the order. I didn't realize they wanted the name of the recipient.

Happy Birthday to me?

Álvaro contemplates "his" cake.

An Update

Last post was specifically dedicated to Christmas, since I felt that it was an important subject in and of itself. But what has happened since then? The holidays were almost two months ago, and February is halfway over. To be honest, not much. It seems like with each update I haven't much to report other than "Well, I'm sick. Let me tell you about it."

This is no different. Yep, I'm sick again. Looking back, not more than two weeks has past without me contracting some new ailment. That's the downside of working with young kids. You are exposed to practically everything. Almost all the staff was sick last week, and they have passed it on to me.

It is putting a damper on things, since my apartment converts into a war zone throughout the week and I usually spend the weekends reorganizing it. I haven't really got the energy to wash the dishes (OK--this may be an exaggeration. I just really hate washing dishes and will find any excuse not to) or cook dinner. I've either eaten out or resorted to cookies. Really, it's a wonder how I get so sick with such a healthy diet. Not to mention I've been trying to start jogging again and I can never form a routine before getting ill again. Bah.

Yet even with my constant state of disease, I don't have as much to complain about these days (OK--also not true. I complain way too much about insignificant things). I like my job. Working with kids, as germy as they may be, gives me a sense of accomplishment. I've also been getting more private classes, which has made me incredibly busy but is a good source of income. I've also finally reached a place where I feel more comfortable in this apartment. Granted, it still could use some improvements but I can live in what is more or less an organized chaos. I'm really looking forward to the spring when the weather is good again and we can enjoy our terrace.

In addition, my social life is finally coming together. I've started going to intercambios, and it's been a good resource for meeting new people and branching out. It's nice to have weekend plans for once. I suppose next is to meet more Spanish people, but poco a poco.

Time to curl up with a cup of tea and some cough syrup.

Navi Navidad

OK, so maybe I've neglected posting. It's mid-February, and here I am writing about Christmas. I have a mental block when it comes to writing. It doesn't matter if it's an important essay or just a simple blog post for my family to read--I will put it off until the last minute. So, here we are almost three months later.

How was my first Christmas away from home? It was--well, a mixed bag. At first, I was fairly confident that I could manage the holidays away from my family. After all, I had Alvaro's family to celebrate with. While they could never replace my own flesh and blood, being closed to loved ones can make all the difference. And in truth, it really did ease the pain of celebrating Christmas on a separate continent.

I spent most of December trying to create my own holiday spirit. I made eggnog from scratch, bought a miniature tree, and cheap Christmas stockings. I sang all my favorite songs and watched Elf. I ate my weight in chocolate.

Christmas at my school was no small feat either. Each class rehearsed and performed their own carols--one in English and the other in Spanish. I even opted to come in on my day off and watch them perform. It was a lot of fun! The kids all wore Santa hats and red jumpers and it was a great way to kick off the Christmas vacation. As a bonus, the teachers were offered a free lunch after school ended. Oh, it was delicious. In true Spanish fashion I ate until my stomach couldn't hold any more, and then ate some more. It was also interesting to see the staff celebrating all together. Teachers were throwing bread across the room and dancing on tables. Alcohol may or may not have been involved (it totally was).

Some of my second graders wrote my name on the board. Second graders are the cutest!

I also went to see the Nutcracker ballet. On Christmas Eve I was lucky enough to come down with a cold. In addition, one of the packages my parents sent for Christmas had failed to show up. I called correos (the Spanish postal service), only to be told that such a package never showed up and must have been lost. So, I did the only thing a reasonable, sickly adult would do and had a mental breakdown.

But life goes on, and that night I begrudgingly went to a holiday dinner with Alvaro's family. I admit that I felt better afterward, although being sick kept me from really enjoying my time out. When I'm sick I just want to stay in bed and watch TV until I stop feeling like death.

Thankfully I was much better on Christmas. My family has a tradition of waking up before dawn and lighting a fire in our fireplace while opening presents. Well, I don't have a fireplace and Alvaro isn't a fan of waking up early, so I made due with what I had. I lowered the blinds to darken the room and found a "fireplace" video on Youtube. Surprisingly, although it wasn't the same as home, I found that those little details made a difference.

The best thing about Spain is that the holidays don't end with Christmas. New Years Eve is usually an eventful holiday, and Reyes is the main gift-giving celebration. So, while I didn't do any travelling over the break, I did go to a lot of family dinners. And my "lost" package did turn up, albeit after Christmas. All in all, it was a successful holiday away from home.

Twelve grapes at midnight to ring in the New Year

My mom made that scarf--it was part of my "lost" gifts.

New Year's mischief

A second family