It is already Monday again. I have been in Spain for 9 days now. It feels like a lot longer than that though. It feels like I should be more acquainted with the language than I am. I learn new words everyday and I am much better than 9 days ago, but I still feel really far behind everyone else. I think I might go talk to the director of our program here in Spain tomorrow about how difficult the language is for me. I really don't expect anything to come of it... probably not even any worthwhile suggestions ("talk with your friends in Spanish", they don't seem to understand that talking in Spanish is slow, difficult, and frustrating... I talk with friends because I enjoy talking with friends... If we only talked in Spanish, I would not want to talk to them and isolating myself is probably not a good idea right now). Hopefully, though, talking to the director about my difficulties might cause her to pass on this information to my teachers, who will then be very lenient. We took a placement test at the beginning of the semester and it didn't affect what classes we are taking. I hope that means that the professors will assign grades by comparing our work to our placement test and not to the other people in the class, because I really think I must be the worst in the class. Anyway, those are my difficulties so far. I understand no one. Well, I understand my professors here and there, or some of my professors here and there, especially in my Comp and Conversation I class, which is the most basic class available.
On Saturday, we had a tour of Alcala. Our Civilization professor led the tour in Spanish, so I have no idea what we saw or the significance of it, but this is what I picked up. The Plaza Cervantes is a major meeting place where people go to gather, shop, and otherwise enjoy themselves. Near the Plaza Cervantes is the Calle Mayor, a major street of just shops and commercial businesses, on which only commercial vehicles are allowed to drive. After the Plaza and the Calle Mayor, we went to the house where Cervantes was born. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and is a very big name in Spain, but especially in Alcala. The house is a museum of how a house would have look during the time when Cervantes was born and next door is the somewhat preserved hospital where his father worked as a doctor (I think that's what she said). In the house was kind of like a doctors office with all kinds of bottles and a crazy scary chair. I wanted to take pictures, but we weren't allowed to take pictures of anything not in the courtyard. I loved the courtyard. It had a beautiful skylight and a well and they had a bunch of plants out there. I want a courtyard in my house. I got a picture of me sitting with the Don Quixote and Sancho statues that are outside of the house (see profile pic). Of course, Don Quixote has special meaning for me. I've been singing the songs to the musical since I was in grade school, I saw the musical at the Stranahan (the only show I've paid to see there), and I was the stage manager of the musical when we performed it at our high school (although that was really more bad memories than anything else).
Then we visited the Iglesia Magistral, a giant cathedral in Alcala. There was a whole story about the church, when it was built, what happened there, and there were some pictures of people getting their heads chopped off in some form of crypt area, but I did not catch the significance of any of it. The cathedral was pretty though. There was this gigantic organ that was emitting music, but I didn't realize that someone was actually playing it until we were walking out. They must just sit there and play nonstop all day, everyday? I'm not sure I would like that job.
We visited a few more buildings near the University (Colegio del Rey maybe?), and we passed the Archeological Museum, but we didn't go inside. There wasn't much of this part of the tour that I caught, but it ended with a trip to Iglesia y Colegio de la Cía de Jesús (I think that was the one anyway). We went inside and bought these sugar coated almonds from the nuns that are not supposed to be seen. You ring the bell and then tell the nun what you want, she puts it in this kind of revolving door window and turns it until you can take your almonds. Then you put your money in the revolving door-window, she turns it again and you leave. It was pretty interesting and the almonds tasted fantastic. I was the last one to eat them, so I got to keep the box as a souvenir. I haven't decided what exactly to do with it yet, but it's sitting on my shelf as a reminder to go get more almonds at some point.
It was a pretty good tour, although it would have been many many times better if I had understood what was being said to me. If I get ambitious, I'll look up the history of these things myself, but for now... Maybe when I get better at Spanish, I'll ask her to repeat most of it for me.
Saturday during the day, I went out with Carla and we went shopping. She wanted to buy some shoes, but couldn't find any that she liked at a price that she was willing to pay. It was okay though because I was introduced to a lot of new stores, including Carrefour, which is the closest thing they have to a Meijer around here. While we were there, I bought some Cheerios and some Spanish frosted corn flakes because I just couldn't take another day of toast. I was literally getting ill eating the toast every morning. Then we stopped at Calzedonia, a small shop that sells nylons of every color and pattern. I realized that I had forgotten to bring mine, although I specifically remember thinking to myself "Don't forget those." So I bought some regular nylons.
We then went to The Phone House, which is a shop that sells cell phones. I had gone earlier in the day and bought myself a cheap phone in order to keep in contact with my group members here. It was a horrible experience. There is no such thing as customer service in Spain, especially when you don't know the language well enough to make your wishes clear. Suffice it to say, there was a very long line, a very unpleasant employee slamming things around, and after she took my information, she ignored me while she waited on other people. So I had to go back with Carla and deal with the same woman in order to put more minutes on Carla's phone. After waiting behind 1 person for almost 20 minutes and a line of 10 more people forming behind us in this small shop, it was our turn. Carla only needed 10 euro worth of minutes, but only had a 50 euro bill. The lady refused to take the bill saying that Carla needed to leave to go get change and then come back (and wait in the line again...). Carla and I were counting out euro cents at the counter until we reached 10 euro rather than leave and come back. What a horrible experience in Spanish customer service! At the very least, that woman should find a different job that doesn't involve interacting with people.
That night, we dressed up and went to a tapas bar. I only had a glass of wine (2 euro) and some kind of bagel/ham sandwich. I wish we could have had some Sangria, but they only sold it by the liter. After the bar we went to a salsa club where people actually danced salsa. I, however, cannot dance salsa, cannot even come close (I tried) and I would much rather learn to swing dance than salsa dance. It was a good time though, but I was very paranoid about leaving my coat (and my money) in a pile against the wall.
Sunday was sleeping in, doing some homework, taking a nap, finishing my homework. Nothing exciting. And today I just went to school. Nothing more, although the weather was nice (in the 40s!).
I do think I'm going to have to spend some more money here soon, just to entertain myself. There really isn't that much to do here, except spend money (spend money drinking - the wine is usually cheap, but beer and especially liquor are outrageously overpriced; spend money shopping; spend money visiting Madrid). It's hard when you even have difficulty watching TV. I need something more to occupy my time. I don't have any video games, a DVD player, books, nothing. I would try my hand at some Spanish cooking, maybe even add a bit of spice to the dishes, but my host mom seems really possessive of the kitchen and it's always so cold in there with the window open all of the time.
Now you can understand why this entry is so long. Well, at least I'll have an in depth account of my time here. No regrets there.
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