Well, yesterday (Thursday, April 10th), I turned 20! I started the day off by sleeping through my alarms again, and half sprinting from Triana to Calle Harinas, arriving to class sweaty, but in the nick of time. Class was quick, and afterwards Carrie and I went to grab a quick breakfast before our next classes, as we had both skipped it that morning. Jessica and Caitlin came along, too. I ordered toast with olive oil and sugar, and café con leche. I know it may sound repulsive, but believe me when I say that this temptingly sweet Spanish treat is quite a winner. My family can definitely look forward to that when I get home! Carrie insisted on paying, and I promised to get her back on her birthday in 2 weeks.
I forgot to mention that Wednesday evening before choir I helped out at a Pascuas celebration at the school for the Spanish children who take English classes there. Wednesday was for 4-8 year olds, and it was the cutest thing. The kids came in around 7, and we helped them color pictures of Easter eggs until everyone had arrived. Each kid got a little paper basket that had jellybeans in it. They learned new words and got candy! Then each kid got to find one real painted egg, which we had hidden in the flowerbeds in the courtyard. They thought that was pretty neat. Afterwards, we helped them dip white eggs into die, which they could color with crayons first. They seemed confused, but picked up on it eventually. The whole time, I was playing with these 2 five year old little girls, Carol and Kristina. They were the CUTEST things I have ever seen. Oh my goodness. And I know we were supposed to be speaking to them in English, but they just don’t know that much. So I made friends in Spanish that day.
Anyhow, back to Thursday. My lit class went fairly well. I seriously adore my professor, and now that we are reading post-war social novels rather than ancient nun writings, the class discussions are improving drastically. I was a bit unnerved to learn that some of my classmates had neglected yet again to read the assigned texts that I was up all night finishing. But it’s good literature, and no one’s loss but their own, really.
After class, I spent over an hour in the lab, printing boarding passes, booking the train, and searching for directions. London still seems unreal. We then had our Flamenco dance final, which I think (besides a few lapses), went pretty well! For anthro, we all met in the lobby for our field trip. Already annoyed with the professor, we thought it would be pretty lame but boy were we mistaken.
We took the metro as a class to this small town area where we went into a small bar for our Iberian Ham taste testing. It was an impressively classy little place. The ham was great, as well as the wine. We had such a blast stuffing ourselves and filling out the paper. Since it was my birthday, they all sang to me, and I had the privilege of cutting ham directly off the leg first. I think I did a half decent job, too! It was super fun. Back in the Center, Corie and I went to one of our favorite churro places to relax and stuff ourselves some more. She wouldn’t let me pay, either.
I walked home, and when I got to my room, I saw a vase of pretty purple flowers on my desk! Carmen told me they were from Brittany, and I was quite touched by the gesture. What a sweet thing to do! I had a nice long chat with Carmen about my weekend plans and life in general before I got ready to go.
Despite everyone getting themselves varying degrees of lost on the way to the restaurant, we finally convened at Zhen Bao Chinese restaurant for my birthday dinner. The place was deserted, which allowed the workers to be very patient with us as we tried to navigate the menu. Corie, Taylor, and I got the equivalent of General Tso’s chicken with rice. Caitlin got sweet and sour, which I believe is also what Claire ordered. I ordered a shrimp appetizer that I expected to be an eggroll, but was actually much better. Someone got dumplings, and we shared a bottle of wine. Carrie didn’t make it to dinner, but she came along later. The food was SO good, and we all ate WAY too much. We had a wonderful time laughing and eating something a bit more familiar. They didn’t let me pay for that, either.
After dinner, since the restaurant was closing, we went and sat at a café for a while. Eventually Carrie, then 3 of her Spanish friends, got there. It was late, so Claire, Tay, and Corie headed home. Caitlin, Carrie, and I hung out with the Spanish friends for a while. I got sleepy and started walking home, but passing by the river, I had to stop. I sat on a stone bench/wall for just under an hour, watching the lights dancing on the water. A veces en la vida, tenemos que sentar al lado de un rio poderoso, para recordar qué pequeño somos, en un mundo completamente lleno de personas quienes son tan importantes como a nuestros mismos.
Even though I didn’t get home until around 4am, I was up at 8:30 to go on the visit to the Flamenco Museum. Not many people went, and it really wasn’t as cool as I had hoped, but it was fine. On the way back to the center, someone knocked on the window in Starbucks as I walked by. It was Claire! I went in to say goodbye before I took off for the week. She was there with Corie, Taylor, and her girlfriend who had just arrived. We were so excited for this serendipitous moment, because we didn’t think I’d have the chance to meet her! Then I walked to our school to print out my train ticket, since the credit card situation had finally been worked out. Virginia was working at reception and was surprised to see me there and not in London yet. She wished me a good trip and said to let her know when I get back so that we can get together. I adore her.
After that, I went home, took a shower, had lunch, and packed my bags. 4:30 rolled around and, pretty certain I had everything, I headed toward the San Bernardo train station with my backpack and rolling carry-on. I had printed directions, but also saw on Google Maps that it was just past the bus station where I had boarded for Ronda, so I went there first. Once to the river, I checked my phone and realized that I don’t know how to read a watch, because it was only just now 4. Deciding it was too late to go back, I took a break on a bench in the shade. It was a beautiful day, but I was very sweaty. It was hot and my bags weren’t light. I got to the bus station and kept going, like the map had shown.
A few streets later, I started doubting that I was right. I took out my directions, but none of the street names matched any I had seen. I also saw a sign that pointed to Santa Justa train station, which is far from where I was supposed to be. I used my Blackberry to find a map, and saw that it was next to something with “Alcazar” in the name. Well, the Alcazar is the palace I went to my 2nd week here, and is way back in the center next to the Cathedral.
I tore off back the way I had come. Passing the bus station, this random Spanish girl asked if I had a phone she could borrow to get ahold of her boyfriend. I let her use mine, but was ready to grab her arm, if she should try running off with it. She yacked at her boyfriend for a few minutes and ended by telling him to meet her here, or better yet, at San Bernardo. I got really excited. “¿Vas a San Bernardo?” “Si, ¿Por que?” “Porque me voy tambien, y estoy perdida.” “Bueno, ¡Vamanos!” We went back to where I had been originally, and a street or 2 further. The girl’s name was Rocio. She is 18 years old, and is beginning to study to be a pharmacist. I told her about what I was doing here, and we talked about London, too. We went into a Chino store for a Coke, and we helped a homeless man buy something to eat. At the station, she kissed my cheeks and said goodbye. It was one of those moments where I sort of wondered if she was a real person. How lucky for both of us that her phone had died.
I found my way down to the train platform without too much trouble. I did ask several people for help, since I wanted to get on the right train. It was a few minutes late, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one getting antsy. When I got on, I sat at a table and a young Spanish woman sat beside me. She was on her phone most of the time. I really liked her watch. I wish I would have had the nerve to tell her that.
I got off at the Jerez Aeropuerto stop, and followed some people who seemed to know where they were going. In the airport, I met a very lovely British family whose accents I adored, and I hung out with them until boarding time. It was nice to have them to talk to and watch my bags for me while I used the restroom. The plane was completely full, and I was next to an older Spanish couple. I tried talking to them a bit at first, and they were friendly enough, I suppose, but didn’t seem too thrilled with talking. I slept on and off the whole way. It was just after midnight when I landed and got into the Stansted airport. I was happy to see that the “Non EU” customs line was much shorter, but it took forever.
As I was filling out my little paper for customs, a woman approached me and asked if I speak Spanish. She didn’t know any English and needed help filling out her card. She also didn’t have her glasses, so I had to write for her. She was very grateful, and we chatted for the hour and a half we were in line together. Long story short, her name is Lorena. She is originally from Chile, but has lived in Spain with her Spanish husband for 7 years. However, 2 years ago, her husband moved to England with their 2 daughters for work. Lorena has to stay in Spain to maintain citizenship, so she can only visit her family sometimes.
She was terrified to go through customs because she doesn’t speak English. She showed me a note someone had written for her in (pretty poor) English, detailing her situation and providing phone numbers, should there be any problem. She said that last time she came, she was in customs for 5 hours, because she couldn’t do her paper, and nobody would help her. I told her I would help her talk to them, that we would go through together. I think she was about to cry.
It was finally our turn. The man took care of my passport first, with a few simple questions and a stamp. Lorena was the hard part. He asked if we were family, and I explained how we had just met and I was helping her. I explained her situation, and he had a thousand questions about her family, work history, etc. He was clearly not impressed with her, and made his skepticism quite obvious to me. Here, she had just been in the UK from December through February, and now wanted to stay for another 3-6 months. He asked about the status of her Spanish passport and when she was to receive it. I couldn’t tell if he thought she was inferior because of where she’s from, or her lack of language, or her non-working status. But either way, I was furious, and determined to fight her way through for her.
She was very nervous and kept talking and rambling a lot. It was difficult for me to pick out the important things, present them in a positive light, and translate in time to catch the next things both of them were saying. It didn’t help that her cell phone kept ringing too, and she didn’t answer it or shut it off, since there was a sing with an X over a phone… but the customs man wasn’t too happy. At one point he was like, “It seems like she’s trying to talk an awful lot, can you tell her to be quiet?” I told her to calm down, that everything would be ok. I held her arm, and explained that they were going to let her in, but that next time, like to stay in Spain, she would need to go to the UK embassy in Madrid and apply for a Visa. They will for sure give it to her, but she must have it, or she won’t be allowed to return for an extended period of time.
After that 20-minute nightmare of my nerves burning to a crisp, we passed through together. She held my bag while I used the ATM, and we walked together; she wanted me to meet her family. Her daughters, who are just younger than me, and husband, were overjoyed and couldn’t stop thanking me. I explained the Visa issue to them, so that everyone was on the same page. Lorena told me that when I come back to Spain, I must visit Jerez and be a guest in her home. I don’t have her contact information, but that was such a nice gesture. WE said goodbye, and I was grateful for the language skills I have, and for the chance to make a real difference for somebody.
Of course, with the extra time this had taken, it was now 2 am. My phone was dead, and I knew Ann was outside in the cold waiting for me on Baker Street. The only problem is, the Baker Street bus stops running between 2 and 5! I got out my computer, signed up for free Wifi, and messaged her from inside the bus station waiting room. She told me to take a taxi. I made my way back up to the terminal and found the taxi desk. The hour ride would cost 110 pounds, which is just about $160. I said there was no way. He knocked it down to 95. Still no way. I found an empty chair and turned my PC back on. Ann said, “Just get here. I’ll pay for half.”
It was still a lot of money, but I booked a taxi, and in minutes was on my way to Regent’s College, Inner Circle, Regent’s Park. My driver was friendly and told me all sorts of things about London, rich people he’s driven, and his sister’s job working as the nanny for some insanely rich Arab family in the oil industry. I found it all quite interesting. This was also my very first experience in a right-sided car on the wrong side of the road. The views were pretty nice, too, and all moments of musical theatre set in London were buzzing in my mind. When we finally got there, we didn’t know which building it was. I picked one, and it was right. I waited a few minutes for Ann to come down for me. I was SO glad to see her! We walked up to her room. Her one roommate was out of town, so I used her bed, and the other was asleep. I sat my bags down in the darkness, kicked my shoes off, and went to bed with my clothes on, too exhausted to take another step. The fun would have to wait until tomorrow.
(PS, my phone upgraded and will no longer connect to my pc, so I have no way to put my pictures up except for the pathetic ones from my Blackberry. Does anybody have a Samsung Galaxy S4 or the like and is also having this problem or knows how to fix it?! None of the online suggestions are any good.)
I forgot to mention that Wednesday evening before choir I helped out at a Pascuas celebration at the school for the Spanish children who take English classes there. Wednesday was for 4-8 year olds, and it was the cutest thing. The kids came in around 7, and we helped them color pictures of Easter eggs until everyone had arrived. Each kid got a little paper basket that had jellybeans in it. They learned new words and got candy! Then each kid got to find one real painted egg, which we had hidden in the flowerbeds in the courtyard. They thought that was pretty neat. Afterwards, we helped them dip white eggs into die, which they could color with crayons first. They seemed confused, but picked up on it eventually. The whole time, I was playing with these 2 five year old little girls, Carol and Kristina. They were the CUTEST things I have ever seen. Oh my goodness. And I know we were supposed to be speaking to them in English, but they just don’t know that much. So I made friends in Spanish that day.
Anyhow, back to Thursday. My lit class went fairly well. I seriously adore my professor, and now that we are reading post-war social novels rather than ancient nun writings, the class discussions are improving drastically. I was a bit unnerved to learn that some of my classmates had neglected yet again to read the assigned texts that I was up all night finishing. But it’s good literature, and no one’s loss but their own, really.
After class, I spent over an hour in the lab, printing boarding passes, booking the train, and searching for directions. London still seems unreal. We then had our Flamenco dance final, which I think (besides a few lapses), went pretty well! For anthro, we all met in the lobby for our field trip. Already annoyed with the professor, we thought it would be pretty lame but boy were we mistaken.
We took the metro as a class to this small town area where we went into a small bar for our Iberian Ham taste testing. It was an impressively classy little place. The ham was great, as well as the wine. We had such a blast stuffing ourselves and filling out the paper. Since it was my birthday, they all sang to me, and I had the privilege of cutting ham directly off the leg first. I think I did a half decent job, too! It was super fun. Back in the Center, Corie and I went to one of our favorite churro places to relax and stuff ourselves some more. She wouldn’t let me pay, either.
I walked home, and when I got to my room, I saw a vase of pretty purple flowers on my desk! Carmen told me they were from Brittany, and I was quite touched by the gesture. What a sweet thing to do! I had a nice long chat with Carmen about my weekend plans and life in general before I got ready to go.
Despite everyone getting themselves varying degrees of lost on the way to the restaurant, we finally convened at Zhen Bao Chinese restaurant for my birthday dinner. The place was deserted, which allowed the workers to be very patient with us as we tried to navigate the menu. Corie, Taylor, and I got the equivalent of General Tso’s chicken with rice. Caitlin got sweet and sour, which I believe is also what Claire ordered. I ordered a shrimp appetizer that I expected to be an eggroll, but was actually much better. Someone got dumplings, and we shared a bottle of wine. Carrie didn’t make it to dinner, but she came along later. The food was SO good, and we all ate WAY too much. We had a wonderful time laughing and eating something a bit more familiar. They didn’t let me pay for that, either.
After dinner, since the restaurant was closing, we went and sat at a café for a while. Eventually Carrie, then 3 of her Spanish friends, got there. It was late, so Claire, Tay, and Corie headed home. Caitlin, Carrie, and I hung out with the Spanish friends for a while. I got sleepy and started walking home, but passing by the river, I had to stop. I sat on a stone bench/wall for just under an hour, watching the lights dancing on the water. A veces en la vida, tenemos que sentar al lado de un rio poderoso, para recordar qué pequeño somos, en un mundo completamente lleno de personas quienes son tan importantes como a nuestros mismos.
Even though I didn’t get home until around 4am, I was up at 8:30 to go on the visit to the Flamenco Museum. Not many people went, and it really wasn’t as cool as I had hoped, but it was fine. On the way back to the center, someone knocked on the window in Starbucks as I walked by. It was Claire! I went in to say goodbye before I took off for the week. She was there with Corie, Taylor, and her girlfriend who had just arrived. We were so excited for this serendipitous moment, because we didn’t think I’d have the chance to meet her! Then I walked to our school to print out my train ticket, since the credit card situation had finally been worked out. Virginia was working at reception and was surprised to see me there and not in London yet. She wished me a good trip and said to let her know when I get back so that we can get together. I adore her.
After that, I went home, took a shower, had lunch, and packed my bags. 4:30 rolled around and, pretty certain I had everything, I headed toward the San Bernardo train station with my backpack and rolling carry-on. I had printed directions, but also saw on Google Maps that it was just past the bus station where I had boarded for Ronda, so I went there first. Once to the river, I checked my phone and realized that I don’t know how to read a watch, because it was only just now 4. Deciding it was too late to go back, I took a break on a bench in the shade. It was a beautiful day, but I was very sweaty. It was hot and my bags weren’t light. I got to the bus station and kept going, like the map had shown.
A few streets later, I started doubting that I was right. I took out my directions, but none of the street names matched any I had seen. I also saw a sign that pointed to Santa Justa train station, which is far from where I was supposed to be. I used my Blackberry to find a map, and saw that it was next to something with “Alcazar” in the name. Well, the Alcazar is the palace I went to my 2nd week here, and is way back in the center next to the Cathedral.
I tore off back the way I had come. Passing the bus station, this random Spanish girl asked if I had a phone she could borrow to get ahold of her boyfriend. I let her use mine, but was ready to grab her arm, if she should try running off with it. She yacked at her boyfriend for a few minutes and ended by telling him to meet her here, or better yet, at San Bernardo. I got really excited. “¿Vas a San Bernardo?” “Si, ¿Por que?” “Porque me voy tambien, y estoy perdida.” “Bueno, ¡Vamanos!” We went back to where I had been originally, and a street or 2 further. The girl’s name was Rocio. She is 18 years old, and is beginning to study to be a pharmacist. I told her about what I was doing here, and we talked about London, too. We went into a Chino store for a Coke, and we helped a homeless man buy something to eat. At the station, she kissed my cheeks and said goodbye. It was one of those moments where I sort of wondered if she was a real person. How lucky for both of us that her phone had died.
I found my way down to the train platform without too much trouble. I did ask several people for help, since I wanted to get on the right train. It was a few minutes late, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one getting antsy. When I got on, I sat at a table and a young Spanish woman sat beside me. She was on her phone most of the time. I really liked her watch. I wish I would have had the nerve to tell her that.
I got off at the Jerez Aeropuerto stop, and followed some people who seemed to know where they were going. In the airport, I met a very lovely British family whose accents I adored, and I hung out with them until boarding time. It was nice to have them to talk to and watch my bags for me while I used the restroom. The plane was completely full, and I was next to an older Spanish couple. I tried talking to them a bit at first, and they were friendly enough, I suppose, but didn’t seem too thrilled with talking. I slept on and off the whole way. It was just after midnight when I landed and got into the Stansted airport. I was happy to see that the “Non EU” customs line was much shorter, but it took forever.
As I was filling out my little paper for customs, a woman approached me and asked if I speak Spanish. She didn’t know any English and needed help filling out her card. She also didn’t have her glasses, so I had to write for her. She was very grateful, and we chatted for the hour and a half we were in line together. Long story short, her name is Lorena. She is originally from Chile, but has lived in Spain with her Spanish husband for 7 years. However, 2 years ago, her husband moved to England with their 2 daughters for work. Lorena has to stay in Spain to maintain citizenship, so she can only visit her family sometimes.
She was terrified to go through customs because she doesn’t speak English. She showed me a note someone had written for her in (pretty poor) English, detailing her situation and providing phone numbers, should there be any problem. She said that last time she came, she was in customs for 5 hours, because she couldn’t do her paper, and nobody would help her. I told her I would help her talk to them, that we would go through together. I think she was about to cry.
It was finally our turn. The man took care of my passport first, with a few simple questions and a stamp. Lorena was the hard part. He asked if we were family, and I explained how we had just met and I was helping her. I explained her situation, and he had a thousand questions about her family, work history, etc. He was clearly not impressed with her, and made his skepticism quite obvious to me. Here, she had just been in the UK from December through February, and now wanted to stay for another 3-6 months. He asked about the status of her Spanish passport and when she was to receive it. I couldn’t tell if he thought she was inferior because of where she’s from, or her lack of language, or her non-working status. But either way, I was furious, and determined to fight her way through for her.
She was very nervous and kept talking and rambling a lot. It was difficult for me to pick out the important things, present them in a positive light, and translate in time to catch the next things both of them were saying. It didn’t help that her cell phone kept ringing too, and she didn’t answer it or shut it off, since there was a sing with an X over a phone… but the customs man wasn’t too happy. At one point he was like, “It seems like she’s trying to talk an awful lot, can you tell her to be quiet?” I told her to calm down, that everything would be ok. I held her arm, and explained that they were going to let her in, but that next time, like to stay in Spain, she would need to go to the UK embassy in Madrid and apply for a Visa. They will for sure give it to her, but she must have it, or she won’t be allowed to return for an extended period of time.
After that 20-minute nightmare of my nerves burning to a crisp, we passed through together. She held my bag while I used the ATM, and we walked together; she wanted me to meet her family. Her daughters, who are just younger than me, and husband, were overjoyed and couldn’t stop thanking me. I explained the Visa issue to them, so that everyone was on the same page. Lorena told me that when I come back to Spain, I must visit Jerez and be a guest in her home. I don’t have her contact information, but that was such a nice gesture. WE said goodbye, and I was grateful for the language skills I have, and for the chance to make a real difference for somebody.
Of course, with the extra time this had taken, it was now 2 am. My phone was dead, and I knew Ann was outside in the cold waiting for me on Baker Street. The only problem is, the Baker Street bus stops running between 2 and 5! I got out my computer, signed up for free Wifi, and messaged her from inside the bus station waiting room. She told me to take a taxi. I made my way back up to the terminal and found the taxi desk. The hour ride would cost 110 pounds, which is just about $160. I said there was no way. He knocked it down to 95. Still no way. I found an empty chair and turned my PC back on. Ann said, “Just get here. I’ll pay for half.”
It was still a lot of money, but I booked a taxi, and in minutes was on my way to Regent’s College, Inner Circle, Regent’s Park. My driver was friendly and told me all sorts of things about London, rich people he’s driven, and his sister’s job working as the nanny for some insanely rich Arab family in the oil industry. I found it all quite interesting. This was also my very first experience in a right-sided car on the wrong side of the road. The views were pretty nice, too, and all moments of musical theatre set in London were buzzing in my mind. When we finally got there, we didn’t know which building it was. I picked one, and it was right. I waited a few minutes for Ann to come down for me. I was SO glad to see her! We walked up to her room. Her one roommate was out of town, so I used her bed, and the other was asleep. I sat my bags down in the darkness, kicked my shoes off, and went to bed with my clothes on, too exhausted to take another step. The fun would have to wait until tomorrow.
(PS, my phone upgraded and will no longer connect to my pc, so I have no way to put my pictures up except for the pathetic ones from my Blackberry. Does anybody have a Samsung Galaxy S4 or the like and is also having this problem or knows how to fix it?! None of the online suggestions are any good.)