Friends & Blessings

Prepare yourselves ladies & gentlemen. This post may get a tad overly sentimental. I'm writing it on my very last night in Oviedo. I'm tired, experiencing every emotion imaginable, and I have internet. This could lead to a genius post, or an awkward mess. If that last option is the case, then I suggest you divert your eyes as soon as it gets unbearable.

There's one aspect of study abroad that no one prepares you for: friendship. When I was on the airplane nervously awaiting my arrival in this foreign land I was anticipating many things. I considered forging the language barrier, submerging myself in another culture, and dealing with a host mother. The thought never even crossed my mind that I would be making lifelong friendships in far off lands.

I met some of the most incredible people on this journey and the story of my experience would have been incomprehensibly different without them. Like every story, there are good characters and bad. I met some of the most incredible people, as well as some of the most intolerable. Despite my moments of frustration, I wouldn't have traded any of these personalities I encountered. Every person, every outing, every excursion, and every conversation shaped my adventure here and I wouldn't change it for the world.

Before arriving in Oviedo, I didn't realize I would be spending day in and day out with the people that surrounded me. Everything I faced, I faced with them. If it wasn't for these amazing people I wouldn't have experienced all that I did, learned as much as I did, laughed as much, or drank as much cafe con leche. These individuals made my study abroad experience, and I couldn't be more grateful for them.

"When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessing instead of sheep
And I fall asleep, counting my blessings"

-(cue cheesy, but still rockin', Christmas song)

That brings me to blessings. I have yet to mention God much in my blog, but truth be told He has blessed me with this entire journey. I've been blessed with an incredible program, a wonderful host mother, a surprisingly awesome university, amazing friends, and countless life lessons. My faith has grown tremendously in this country in inexplicable ways. I've also been shown how many things I have back home to be thankful for. Things back home I've learned to appreciate more than ever: My home that I grew up in, WOU, Monmouth and all of its contents (including all the superb people), my stupendously supportive family, as well as anyone who's reading this. Trust me, if you're reading this then I've learned to appreciate the crap out of you.

Before I get any sappier I better call it a night.

My itinerary for the travels home on 12/19:

5:30am head to the bus station with the madre and Samy the dog

6:00am bus leaves Oviedo for the airport

7:50am fly to Paris

10:30am fly to Seattle

9:14pm arrive in Oakland and reunite with the fam

Parties to the Max

Ah, heavy sigh. My journey abroad is coming to a rapid end. This week I've had two goodbye parties. One was put on by AHA and the other was a function of the University of Oviedo. Abroad goodbyes are weird. There are some promises of "see you later" and other goodbyes that are entirely final. It's a mixture of every emotion imaginable.

The AHA party was spontaneously thrown together, but completely worth the last minute rush. All 25 students from my program gathered in the tiny AHA office for traditional drinks and goodies of Asturias. Everyone stopped by for a few minutes here and there. We were all able to bid farewell to one another as well as to the wonderful staff of AHA. I truly think I picked the best program. These Oviedo AHA people rule. We all reminisced, shared excitement for the return home, and relished in our final moments here.

The following day, today actually, we had a party in the university. My university rocks. We were supposed to have classes all the way through Friday, but we've already taken the final exams and received our end grades. So on Thursday the professors stopped classes at 1pm and organized a party in the common room. It was a potluck type deal and since the university has students from all over the world everyone was supposed to bring something that represented his or her country. The US kids contributed PB&Js and Oreos. Go America. At the party we chatted with our professors and everyone gushed over how great everyone else was. It got mushy and corny (that could have been because there was alcohol at the party. For real. The professors handed out glasses of a champagne type deal to every student. They literally made sure everyone had a glass of the drink in their hands. Oh life in Asturias). The party was fun and the food was delicious. Going to school at the University of Oviedo for 3 months was like a vacation, a very culturally diverse vacation.

I still have places to go, people to see (more like goodbyes to say), and things to do. I have one day left in this incredible city and I'm going to make the very best of it. Wish me luck.

The Final Countdown (Old school Europe shout out)

Well hello there last weekend in Oviedo, I didn’t see you coming.

Despite my disbelief, it is true. This weekend was my final weekend in Oviedo. And I couldn’t have asked for a better finale. I was able to do everything I wanted and more.

Friday night my usual crowd and then some gathered to walk the merry streets of Oviedo. A week or so ago Christmas lights were strung up about the city in preparation for the jolly holiday rapidly approaching. On Friday night we decided to get roasted chestnuts and nosh on them while strolling about town. Unfortunately, all the chestnut stands were closed. We got bags of candy instead. Delicious substitution. (The next day I was able to try those roasted chestnuts. They aren’t as scrumptious and Christmas-y as they sound. They look like little brains and have an oddly squishy texture. Still fun to eat though). Friday was a pleasant and very seasonal evening.

On Saturday a group of us explored The Tent of Wonders. Ok, it’s not really called The Tent of Wonders. It’s street vendors enclosed in a large tent. I was able to get a good chunk of my Christmas/souvenir shopping done in that gigantic tent.

Ever since I got to Spain I’ve always tried to party like a Spaniard, which means staying out socializing until at least 5 in the morning. I always fail miserably at this attempt. Saturday night was my last chance to fulfill this Spanish goal. In honor of that, we all went out to Gascona , the lively hot-spot street. Gascona is lined with Sidrerias. We plopped ourselves down, all 10 of us, and ordered some Sidra. Sidra is the drink of Oviedo. It’s a fermented cider (or something like along those lines), which is poured from above the head down into a precisely slanted cup. On this particular night I decided to try Sidra for the first time. The way you drink Sidra is ridiculous. Immediately after it’s poured you have to chug the partially full glass. Once my glass was poured I swung into action, cheersed my friend, and gulped down the Sidra. Yuck. It was potent with an after taste of green olives. Despite my dislike for the taste, it was a fun experience to share with my fellow Oviedo crowd.

After our start to the night on Gascona we headed out to find our first bar of the night. We wandered into a surprisingly welcoming bar and we brought the party. I say “we brought the party” because we were literally the only ones in there. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I sipped on a Coca-Cola, danced to some 80’s music, and chatted with some of my favorite ladies. From there we moved next door to the one and only B12 and then inevitably ended up in the chupito place. I don’t like either of these places, but somehow we always find our nights ending in one of them. We aren’t the only ones who experience this phenomenon; we ended up running into everyone else from AHA in each of those bars. Like always, we spent very little time dilly-dallying in the bars before deciding to wander home. Before calling it a night, a few of us were able to go over to one friend’s house and sip on hot chocolate. Once 3:30 rolled around I called it a night and went home. I got in at 3:45am. I got pretty dang close to my Spanish goal, finally.

I woke up at noon the next day and thought pretty highly of myself for staying out until the wee hours of the night…until my host mom woke up at 1:00pm and told me she stayed out until 5am. Crazy Spanish woman.

On Sunday I went to the market surrounding the cathedral one last time. That night a handful of us decided to check out the weekly ritual of nuns singing in part of the cathedral. We thought we’d hear some lovely singing and just get to watch it from a distance. Like usual, things didn’t go as planned. As we entered a woman ushered us to the area where the nuns do their thing so that we were right up in there with the holy people. It was awkward. We didn’t know what to do, where to look, or what to sing. The nuns and the rest of the attendees sang beautifully though. Once again, it was a good experience.

To top off my wonderful weekend, someone finally won the prize money on my favorite Spanish game show Pasapalabra. 322,000 Euros. My host mom and I both clapped for the lucky winner.

Braving Barcelona

Brace yourselves ladies and gentleman. This past weekend was a four day weekend, I traveled to Barcelona, and I met up with Anna Fraine. For those three reasons this shall be one gargantuan post (and for those three reasons it will also be full of awesomeness of course). With that said, let the story begin:

I stand in the middle of Terminal 2 in the Barcelona airport. It's 8:58pm, 23 minutes after Anna's flight was supposed to get in. I look at the arrivals board outside our meeting point of baggage claim. No flights from Prague*. After already having asked an airport attendant if I was in the correct location, I was out of ideas. Huge airport. Huger city. No cell phones. No airport pager system. No way to find my friend. Well this is off to a good start, I thought. Just as I was about to give up on my getaway weekend I heard the sound of relief- "KAAATE ARNOOOLD". It was the bellowing voice of Anna Fraine that I hadn't heard in over three months. We embraced in a no doubt picturesque reunion hug. I still have no idea how we found each other.

After getting slightly reacquainted, we headed out on a bus to find our hostel. We got a bit turned around in the large Plaza Catalunya, but eventually found our way to the main street closest to our accommodations. This main street was called La Rambla. It was jam packed and full of life all weekend long. There was always something to see and always something to eat. La Rambla was lined with vendors, artists, and performers of all sorts 24/7. My favorite street performers from the weekend included the Edward Scissor Hands impersonator, The Massive Fat Suit Lady, and the really sketchy mummy who wrapped Anna up in his mummy cloth and whispered "sexy". Since those kind of characters thoroughly freak me out (same goes for fully costumed Disneyland characters), I decided to keep my distance. As for the restaurants on this street, Anna and I were able to find some mouth-watering paella and consume it faster than we could say catch-of-the-day-shellfish-selection-over-rice-and-veggies (that's paella, btw). La Rambla was a main staple of our Barcelona experience.

We arrived in Barcelona late on Friday and simply explored the surrounding area for the duration of that night. The next day we attempted to go on a free walking tour, but failed. Instead we made our own tour and explored several sites of the city by means of the metro system. We first wandered into Guell's house of some sort. I don't know many details about that because, to be honest, it was boring. After that stint of boringness we meandered down to the port. We wandered about the sea front before making our way to the metro and heading to La Sagrada Familia. La Sagrada Familia (The Sacred Family) is the architect Gaudi's unfinished masterpiece. He intended for it to be a cathedral, but that intent may or may not come true. It's still being constructed, but from what it is thus far I can say La Sagrada Familia is easily the coolest cathedral I've been to (and trust me, I've seen my fair share). After being amazed by one work of Gaudi's we discovered another one of his treasures- Casa Batlló. This was a house Gaudi constructed with the theme of underwater in mind. It was incredible. Every detail exuded water in some manor, and yet was still conveniently practical. Gaudi's work never ceased to amaze me throughout the weekend.

Saturday night we met up with some Portuguese people that Anna had met through couch-surfing. In was an interesting mix of a night. The crowd we rolled with included one Portuguese guy, the tiniest Portuguese girl ever, two German girls, an Austrian girl, and a Lithuanian girl. The Portuguese girl was my entrainment for the evening. She was shorter than me with a child's frame and an explosive personality. At one point in the night she slapped the hand of a pickpocket to prevent theft from one of the German girls. The night was pleasant, until we got to a techno club. Ugh. All that electronic/techno music sounds the same to my ears. How do you even dance to that anyway? Once we realized the music wasn't getting any better, and we weren't becoming any less awkward at bopping along to the "beat", we decided to head home. That wrapped up Saturday for us.

We kicked off Sunday with a free tour of the Barcelona Picasso museum. There we met up with three of my friends from my Oviedo program. We all sauntered through the museum waiting to see some contorted faces or other famous Picasso works. No such luck. Turns out that stuff is in Madrid, Paris, and New York. I did, however, get to see Picasso's rendition of "Las Meninas" originally by Velázquez. Normally that last sentence would sound like blabber to me, but I had just learned about this painting in my art class, hence my level of enthusiasm for seeing it in person.

Once we finished being classy and looking at art, four of us headed out to find Park Guell. Park Guell is, well, uh, it's cool. I don't know much about it. I do know that in our attempt to find this park we ended up on an inadvertent hike. Great, my favorite (insert over exaggerated sarcasm here). Turns out the park was on a lower level, but after walking fifteen minutes uphill in a state of confusion we ended up at a pretty cool lookout point. After descending from the accidental hike location, we found Park Guell. Park Guell was actually really cool, I would suggest googling it. There were houses there that were modeled after the houses in Hansel & Gretel's fairy tale. They looked like giant delicious gingerbread houses. We also found the ANTM (America's Next Top Model) runway from cycle 7 when Caridee and Melrose walked in Barcelona. We had far too much fun with that. After mock-modeling our way through Park Guell, we had no plans and decided to take that opportunity to head to the beach. Yes, the beach. We had a late night stroll along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. It was beautiful and freezing. Of course, I put my feet in and played Wave Tag.

By Monday we had seen everything we wanted to see and done everything we wanted to do. We took the day to go souvenir shopping and consume our last Barcelona treats. We found our way over to a large famous park. I can't remember it's name, I actually don't think we ever knew it. It had a giant, gorgeous, gold embellished fountain. It was massive. (ANTM cycle 7 filmed their commercial episode there). There was also a large, possibly life size, Mammoth statue. The park was a fantastic way to pass the rest of our time in the beautiful, beyond big Barcelona.

That night I dropped Anna off at her bus stop and we said our goodbyes and wishes of safe travels. We hugged it out and went our separate ways after one hectic, astounding weekend.

That was the end of the weekend, but that's not the end of my story. You lucky readers get a bonus tidbit. It's a story about our hostel. Our hostel situation was a bit last minute, therefore some of the common comforts had to suffer. We were in a room with three bunk bed sets, so six beds. We shared the room with five Asians and one French woman throughout various points of the trip. With these kind of accommodations we obviously didn't have our own luxurious bathrooms. Instead we had dorm style public bathrooms. That didn't bother me, but our shower experience did. One night Anna and I both decided to hit the showers after a long day. After a few minutes into my shower the water became unbearably hot. Due to my discomfort I reached to adjust the temperature. As I touched the handle I felt an odd sensation. It felt like when your hand is either falling asleep or waking up after falling asleep. It was all tingly. It happened a few times before I realized I couldn't touch the handle for more than a couple seconds. I shouted over to Anna "Hey Anna...does it feel like you're being-" Anna cut me off with her urgent response of "-electrocuted?!" Yes folks, I'm pretty sure I was gently electrocuted several times during that shower. It's safe to say I only showered once this weekend.

*(For those of you who don't know, Anna is my friend who studied abroad in Prague this term. We planned to fly from our individual cities/countries to meet in Barcelona for the weekend)

Thanksgiving & Segovia

Last week was Thanksgiving. I was in Spain. Spain = not the United States. Luckily for me I didn't have a moment to sigh over missing my country because my program directors of AHA organized a Thanksgiving meal for everyone. We gathered at a cafe near our University to partake in Thanksgiving goodness. As I walked in the door of the cafe I could have sworn I'd flown overseas and returned to the land of turkey, stuffing, and American pride. The Spanish woman who owned the cafe, along with some AHA staff members, slaved in the kitchen all day to prepare this meal for us homesick kids. It was delicious. The turkey was succulent, the stuffing was fluffed, the cranberries were...well they weren't can-shaped but they were still good. They even made pumpkin pie from scratch, I think, although I've never seen pumpkins around. The food was good and the company was enjoyable. It was nothing compared to actual family, but the makeshift Spanish student family sufficed. We even went around the table and said what we were thankful for. Man, us Americans sure do know how to thrust a US tradition on a tiny Spanish cafe.

That all took place Wednesday night, which as you know was not Thanksgiving day. The actual day of Thanksgiving was spent on a bus. That bus was headed to Segovia for the weekend. This was the last AHA organized excursion. The main attraction of Segovia is the ancient Roman Aqueduct (see my fbook for pictures). That thing sure was old. Someone said it was from the first century, but I find that hard to believe. Google if you care to prove that rumor wrong. In Segovia we also saw a castle that was allegedly the castle Walt Disney based the magical kingdom off of- but apparently there are dozens of other castles that claim the same thing. Either way, it was still cool to see a castle.

Segovia was our home base, but we also explored Avila and La Granja. In Avila we saw a huge wall. It actually has a name more specific than just "wall" but I can't remember it. This thing was ginormous though. It surrounded the old territory of Avila. We got to walk on top of it. So cool. I could have crushed everything in sight for miles with my thumb and index finger.

In La Granja we went to a palace. The word "palace" was kind of deceiving. We ended up getting an hour tour of mostly super old school tapestries. There was some really neat ceiling art, but the tour guide dwelled on the tapestries. The cool part about palaces is that they usually have gardens. This palace had a magical garden. Ok, it was a regular garden, but while we were wandering through the garden area is started SNOWING. Snow! How magical! And just in time for the holiday season. Snow makes everything magical.

After a snow-kissed weekend we headed back home to face studying and a week of exams. Good news is I survived my tests, for the most part. Now I'm preparing for a four day weekend in Barcelona with the one and only Anna Fraine. Prepare yourselves- there are bound to be stories after this reunion.

A Weekend in Wine Country

Phew. I just got back from my last AHA-organized excursion and I finally have a moment to breathe. I have multiple weekends to gush about, but for organization's sake I'm going to break them up into a couple entries. And for no apparent reason I decided to tell you all that.

Wine Country- Logroño

The weekend of the 21st & 22nd I went to Spanish Wine Country with two friends (Shani and Aubrey). We spent 2 1/8 days-ish there. It was a really neat and relaxing weekend. Here's how it went down:

Friday-

9:00pm our train left from Oviedo to Logrono. Since it was a night train ride, we got to be in a sleeping car with four tiny beds and a sink. For those of you who have never had the joyful experience of a sleeping train car, it's set up like two sets of slim bunk-beds in the space of less than half of a dorm room. I actually slept very well. Before I got to sleep though, the three of us girls were chatting it up in our all-too-small room. While chatting, a very drunk and slightly wobbly British man wandered through our open to door to join our conversation. We had run into this man earlier when we accidentally entered the men's sleeping section of the train. I'm mentioning this man because while chit-chatting with us he said the funniest British phrase. In his comical British accent he asked "are you girls here on business or just for a weekend jolly?". I now love the word "jolly" and am going to use it as much as possible.

After a solid hour of sleep, our train stopped in Logrono...at 3am. Before the trip we decided we wanted to be cheap and spontaneous and not pay for a hostel on Friday night. In theory that was a good idea. In reality we spent the hours of 3am-8am in the train station. To this day I cannot remember for the life of me what we did for those 5 mysterious hours.

Saturday-

After the mystery train station time we found our way to our hostel. The woman running the place was kind enough to let us in at 9am (undoubtedly hours before opening time). She looked at us and said "oh, right, you're the American girls" and then led us to our room. She took pity on us for being tired looking and, well, American.

Once we were more rested we decided to explore the city. It was an adorable town with a big city look mixed in with ancient alleyways. We spent the rest of the day meandering and waiting for a museum to open. We had to wait until 5pm for this museum to open and it turned out to be lame. Really lame. I don't even remember what it was about, probably a museum on the history of being lame. But, while killing time waiting for that museum to open up we found another museum (to be mentioned later) with an outdoor display. The outdoor display was full of sound experiments, like a giant xylophone, as well as a bunch of other cool stuff.

Saturday night we went out on the town for the "camino de pinchos y vinos," which just meant wandering around and having appetizers and wine. We tried some local food (like calamari) and some wine. Semi-side note: since I'm not accustomed to the taste of wine, or alcohol at all, prior to this weekend I thought all wine tasted like a cork. Along with some vegetable tempora, I had my first full glass of wine. I did not like it. I did, however, feel like a classy grown up.

Sunday-

Sunday was the best day. On this day we actually had something planned. We made a reservation to get a tour of a winery. We got a bit lost on the way there and then once we found the building we couldn't find the entrance. "Where is the freaking door?" was uttered from all of our mouths in one form or another. Once inside we were greeted by the nicest men who ran the place. One man, the one was giving the tour, spoke some English. He was delighted to hear that Shani and I were from California. He told us that he had recently visited Napa Valley and loved it. I felt super cool for knowing the slightest bit about Napa. The tour guide man led us to the rest of the group and introduced us as the American girls. (Apparently people in Logrono knew we were coming and braced themselves for the "American girls"). The tour was great. We got to see the whole sha-bang, including an art room containing pieces pertaining to wine. At the end we had a tasting. I thought I was going to be able to do that thing where you sip the wine and then spit it in a bucket- no such luck. We had two glasses of wine, one red and one white. The tour guide taught us how to taste the wine properly- including a tidbit about oxidizing the wine (which appears like slurping) in which I nearly drooled and almost choked, so much for being classy. As I mentioned, we each got two glasses of wine and not a spit bucket. As I also mentioned, I'm not accustomed to alcohol. After two glasses of wine (which weren't actually full glasses, just tasting size) I was feeling dizzy. As my friend tried to get me to help her pick out some wine, I thought to myself "oh crap Kate, stay calm. One foot in front of the other. Don't be drunk, don't be drunk, don't be drunk". I wished hard enough and it came true- I wasn't drunk. But I do think I had my first encounter with being on the way to being tipsy. The whole winery adventure was quite the experience.

After the winery we had half a day and some night to kill before our train came. We spent that time in the coolest hands-on museum. This was the museum I mentioned earlier. It was so cool that you couldn't even wear shoes inside. It had bunches of different displays and games that all required you to use your hands and senses. The place was filled with children and accompanying adults. We were the only ones over the age of 8 without child to accompany. It was awesome.

We passed the rest of our day/night eating and going to a movie before heading home to Oviedo. Our train didn't get in until 8am Monday morning, just in time for classes. Even with the lack of sleep and mystery hours, I had a great time. It was a weekend in which I was able to sip wine like a classy grown up and then squeal like a five year old in a children's museum all in one town.

Blogging Fail

Hey blogging world. Just a heads up that I am going to neglect (and already have been neglecting) my blog for a bit. I would love to sit down and write about my relaxing weekend in Logrono as well as my makeshift Thanksgiving dinner with the AHA crowd. Unfortunately I'm swamped with studying and packing. I'm currently in the middle of studying for some tests unusually close to both my midterms and finals. So my mid-midterms...or pre-finals...or I'm just talking nonsense. Anywho, I'm headed to Segovia and Los Aviles this weekend for my last AHA organized excursion. It should be fun and freezing (maybe snow!). Wish me luck.

Oh and happy Thanksgiving!

Mining under a New Moon

Today the University of Oviedo didn't have class. Instead all of us students had to drag our tired behinds to the library at 9am for cultural presentations. The professors of the University presented information to us about the region of Asturias, the hidden treasures of Oviedo, the scenic landscapes of surrounding cities, blah, blah, information, blah. It was a nice presentation, really, but that was not nearly to coolest part of my day. After that informational gathering we had the option to go to a nearby mine museum, which of course would include a tour of a mine shaft. That's right- a mine shaft.

Just twenty minutes from the city we got off the bus and headed into the mine museum. Half of the group went down a mysterious elevator while the rest of us waited around the museum. I poked my head around, looked at old stuff, saw some giant machines, and ran on a human hamster wheel (it was actually a thing for retrieving water). Then it was my group's turn to descend in the mysterious elevator. Once we all packed into the all too tiny device, a very loud alarm thing went off. You know how you see mine workers on TV/movies and there's that bell that goes off when rocks are falling or something? Well that bell went off right in my ear. The seemingly long elevator ride was dark and disorienting (kind of like the Disneyland Haunted Mansion one). Once we got out our tour guide directed us toward a large wall of hardhats. YES. I was pumped. I rocked a white hardhat that was all too large for my head and felt like a true miner. As we continued on the tour I didn't understand what the guide was saying, so instead I daydreamed. Throughout the shaft I thought "man I'm glad I come from the gold mining state and have already had experience with mines and panning for gold. I'm also glad I watched that Bonanza episode where Pa gets stuck in a mine shaft and the Cartwright boys have to bail him out". I snapped out of my daydreams once we got to a small stairway and I actually had to do something concerning my beloved hardhat. We had to climb up these narrow, dark stairs with overhead log beams. I'm not sure how people of a normal height did that. Since we climbed up, we eventually had to climb back down. At this point we were given a choice: 1. go down regular stairs. 2. go down a steep, slippery, laundry-shoot-shaped, true miner's passage. I was wearing a hardhat, so in my mind I didn't have a choice: it was mining time. I went down the slippery one and almost ate it about ten times, nearly taking the rest of the adventurers with me. After that adrenaline rush we circled back to the exit. The exit took us up one flight of stairs. Turns out the elevator ride at the beginning was a big hoax. We were only about 20ft underground. That place was awesome.

Now for the New Moon part. The second movie in the Twilight Saga was released in Spain yesterday. A bunch of other girls and myself disregarded the fact that it would be in Spanish and decided to go see New Moon today. It. Was. Awesome. Imagine the mania of Edward Cullen-loving American girls unleashed on a Spanish movie theater. I can almost guarantee that some people in that theater think less of Americans now. We couldn't contain our girlish squeals of excitement every time a new character came onto the screen. I can't wait to go back home and see it in English.

Additional note: tomorrow night (Friday) I'm heading out with two friends to travel to the Spanish wine country. We'll be staying in a hostel, possibly go wine tasting, visit some vineyards, and see the scenery. Some of our travel details are a bit fuzzy, so any prayers for us would be much appreciated. Hopefully it turns out to be a fun weekend. If nothing else it'll make for some good stories.

Also...today marks one month left in Spain!

L-L-L-Leon

This past Saturday I was supposed to go to Gijon with some friends. That didn't end up getting planned. Friday night this dialogue happened:

Host mom: "Are you going to Gijon tomorrow"

Me: "No we decided not to go"

Host mom: "Want to go to Leon tomorrow?"

Me (not wanting to ever be considered rude): "Sure"

Host mom: "Ok, we'll leave at 8:30am"

Me (my internal voice): "Oh crap"

Leon is a province in just south of Asturias (the region Oviedo is in). My host mom was taking me to her "pueblo" in Leon where she grew up. I was under the impression that I would see Leon, see the house my madre grew up in, eat some food, and then return to Oviedo promptly. Wrong.

Here's what really happened:

8:30am- beep, beep, beeeep. I lazily rolled out of bed after just five hours of sleep the night before. I slammed some breakfast as my host mom rushed me out the door excitedly. I got dressed, we packed up our stuff, and loaded Samy the dog into the car.

8:50am- we hit the road.

9:00am- we make a pit stop on the way out of town. We stop to pick up a Brazilian/African man. Random? I thought so. Turns out my host mom pays this guy with food and conversation to work on her family house. She told me he was Brazilian, but then I asked him and said he was from an African country. He spoke French, about three English phrases (How are you? Where are you from? How do you feel today?- that last one is kinda odd), and some Spanish.

10:00am- awkward silence in the car on my behalf.

10:30am- we arrive in her pueblo. It was quite far out of the way of any other civilization. At first I thought it was a ghost town that we'd pass through. All the houses were within about a half mile radius. The tiny town was in the cradle of rolling mountains. Every house was adorned in cobble stone and surrounded by greenery. It was quite picturesque.

11:00am- after getting a tour of easily the oldest house I've ever been in, the madre & the man get to work around the yard. I decide to go for a walk around the town.

11:03am- done with the walk. Just kidding. I made the walk last at least 45 minutes. I snapped pictures around every corner as I stumbled across hidden bridges and obscure farm life.

11:45am- I return to the house for some relaxing time before lunch. Once I got back in the house I was freezing. And I don't just mean a little chilly. I mean freezing. The weekend before it had snowed all over Leon. I swear it was cold enough to snow the day I visited. My host mom even made the comment that she thought it was colder inside the house than outside. Great.

12:00pm to 4:00pm- I read my book. That's right. Four hours of reading. It was nice to be able to really relax and enjoy my book...until I finished it. Then I started going crazy. My host mom and the man were working in the attic while I sat in the kitchen and twiddled my thumbs. At one point my host mom came into the kitchen to find me huddled next to the old school portable heater with two jackets on. She then informed me that if I wear my jacket in the house I would get sick the next time I went outside because my body would be used to the temperature of two jackets. I was forced to shed a layer. Just dandy. I sat there, one jacket less, and waited for lunch or some excitement to come along.

4:30pm- lunch time. Yummm. We ate these white bean things (an Asturian specialty) in a hot stew with plenty of bread on the side.

5:00pm- ok, I thought, it must be time to pack up and head back to the comforts of Oviedo. Not so much.

5:30pm- my host mom tells the man to take me up the mountain by her house while she cleans. It was awkward. His Spanish was lacking, my Spanish was lacking. Neither of us really wanted to walk up a mountain together. It was okay though, the mountain turned out to be a slightly elevated hill that only took five minutes to get to. It was a beautiful view from the top.

6:00pm- the madre, the man, Samy the dog, and I go walking around the town waiting for Samy to "hacer caca," which literally means "make poop". I've never wanted something to poop so badly in my life. I just wanted to go home.

6:15pm- we go to a very, very, very old lady's house. She was a family friend of my host mom's. She seemed really sweet but I had zero idea as to what she was saying the entire time.

7:00pm- we leave the pueblo!

7:30pm- my host mom decides to stop at a gas station and clean her car in the car wash.

8:00pm- as I'm dozing off to sleep in the back of the car my madre asks how I'm doing. I tell her good, but tired. She told me I could sleep in the car- she didn't mean it. She then proceeded to say things to me every five minutes just as I was beginning to hit dreamland.

9:00pm- home, sweet, home. Or, well, Oviedo.

It was really neat to see where my host mom grew up and what her childhood must have been like. It was also cool to see a true Spanish pueblo. The tiny town was beautiful. With that said, this day was probably the day of my worst homesickness. As I sat in my madre's family home I couldn't help but to think how much I wanted to be in my family home. That was rough.

Also, I want to formally retract my statement in my last blog post about becoming anywhere close to conversational in Spanish. On Saturday I sucked it up in terms of attempting to speak/understand Spanish. I didn't understand 98% of what was said that day and I was only able to reply to everything with "si".

The language of Spanish: 1

Kate: 0

Why do the streets smell like pee?

Spanish joke for you: why do the streets smell like a sack of urine hit you in the face? ...Because everyone pees in them. Oh, wait, that's not a joke. That's a fact.

I may have exaggerated a bit. The streets don't wreak that much and not everyone takes a leak where they please. But there is an occasional ally (or a public park) I'll stumble across that has an undeniable urine stench. And I've seen four children, with parental assistance, relieve themselves out and about where others are walking.

Even though people pee freely (I.P. Freely- isn't that the end to an actual joke?) Oviedo is a very clean city. Every night these truck things come by and spray water all over the place, despite the fact that people may be walking there. Minus the failed attempts at dodging the water, it's a nice feature to the city. I read somewhere that Oviedo is the cleanest city in Spain, and I'd believe it.

The other day I was walking down the street and realized how comfortable I am in Oviedo. I know the city pretty well, I rarely get lost, and I don't tense up in a state of panic when someone speaks Spanish to me anymore. I've even had three people ask me for directions to landmarks, so I can't look like too incompetent of a being.

Along with my comfort in the city, I've realized I'm also becoming more confident in my Spanish skills. I talk much more freely with my host mom, I ask questions in class, I don't mind talking to waiters, and I can even joke around a bit. I'm by no means anywhere even remotely close to fluent, but I am much closer to being conversational. It's been a nice change of pace.

This whole post has been pretty random, so I think I'll keep up with that tone.

The other day I was watching TV with my madre when the Jonas Brothers came on. There was a segment about them and I got far too excited. I asked my madre if she knew of them. Much to my disappointment, she hadn't even heard of them. I brushed that off and proceeded to tell her my friend's uncle works for them (Wendy/Bryant family shout out) and that I really like them. She thought that was nice, but didn't seem too interested. After the Jo Bros there was a segment on the Twilight Saga. I told my madre I was reading one of those books. I then explained the plot of Twilight to her (good thing I just learned the word for vampire in one of my classes) as well as the phenomenon of Edward Cullen in the US.

That's enough random rambling for one day.

Half Way Point

Someone informed me that this most recent Sunday marked the half way point of my excursion. That is just pure craziness. My experience has been chalked full of awesomeness thus far and I can't wait to see what the second half has in store for me.

I have yet to discuss my classes much. Why don't I let you in on my school life.

First there's vocabulary. It's pretty much your standard Spanish vocab class. I learn about things relevant to my lifestyle. The units we've had so far covered cities/towns, nationalities, body parts, physical and emotional descriptions, and games. My teacher for this class is a young twenty-something woman. She doesn't speak any English and we all speak very little Spanish, so she's become very good at drawing on the chalkboard and using sound effects.

Grammar. I really dislike my grammar class. The teacher is a middle-aged man who is very hilarious and good at relating things to us students. His sense of humor, however, does not make up for our general incompetence in grammar. We go over our class time nearly every day and barley scratch the surface of whatever the daily topic is. I've come to the conclusion that grammar is just hard to teach (good luck with that Nicki).

Art History. This is an interesting class, but also my most difficult to focus in. It's neat because we learn about Roman architecture or Greek statues and then are able to visit them in real life. It's not so neat because it's still history, which means lots of miniscule details and countless dates that I cannot remember for the life of me. Also, did you know that Spain is OLD? I mean, in theory I knew that, but once you go from studying the history of baby US to the gigantic history of old school Spain it's challenging to say the least.

Translation. I saved the best description for last. I really enjoy translation. In this class we translate Spanish to English and vice versa. It has a lot to do with sentence diagramming and many underlying linguistic themes. As a recently self proclaimed language nerd, this is all very fascinating to me. We translate texts from The Simpsons all the way to When Harry Met Sally. The class is teaching me a lot about both Spanish and English grammar. I'm diggin' it.

Oh, I lied. That wasn't the last description. I also have an Intercultural Class, which is put on by AHA (my program). It's a class to help us learn about the Spanish culture. We mostly just talk about our daily experiences the whole time. It's kind of a joke class, that's why I nearly forgot to mention it.

Overall classes have been fairly easy on a week-to-week basis. I've had maybe three homework assignments. Oh and we don't have textbooks. We get a packet at the beginning of each new unit, which contains all the lecture material as well as activities. Even though the classes are light on the work load, it doesn't necessarily mean I'll pass them with flying colors. Between last week and this week I've had three of my four midterms. They've all been surprisingly more challenging than expected. Despite the pleasantly light work load and shockingly difficult tests, I'm still learning and enjoying my classes for the most part.

Additional note: in the classrooms we have chalkboards, which means the teachers use chalk, which of course means they consistently manage to get chalk remnants in hilarious places. My very composed translation teacher usually has a chalk hand print on her butt by the end of every class. The hilarious grammar teacher has had chalk in ever nook and cranny imaginable, thanks to his flailing hand gestures. And my art history teacher walked around with chalk on her face on a rainy day while taking us on a tour of the local cathedral (which is no where near a chalk board). Conclusion: chalk is funny.

The Dinner Of Champions

Ok so I literally just posted my blog about my three day weekend (see below if you avid readers have yet to look at it), but on Tuesday night after my three day weekend I had a crazy dinner experience and I feel like sharing about it. Hopefully you feel like reading about it.

Last week was my friend(Kelly)'s birthday. As a nice gesture her host mom allowed her to invite friends over (if you read my latest post you'll note that inviting friends over is a BIG deal in these parts) to join in on a birthday meal. The night was hilariously baffling. Three of us went to our friend's apartment for the celebration. It was neat to see where Kelly lives, how her room is set up, and it was especially neat to meet her host mom. This woman literally looked like a witch. Just picture a witch with the cackle to match and you've got her pinned. She was upbeat and spunky and greeted us with dos besos and open arms. Shortly after we arrived, a boy who lived with the witch woman last year and currently attends our university came to the apartment for dinner. His name is Adam. He's from California and spoke both English and Spanish perfectly. Later in the evening Kelly's host brother came home. The host brother is German and is studying film at another university in Oviedo. This guy is huge. I don't mean to be rude, but really, he's huge. Apparently he used to have a giant beard to match his large physique. The host brother, Gabriel, spoke some English and nearly fluent Spanish. Once everyone had arrived, all seven of us youngins sat down for drinks and appetizers. Kelly's host mom served us sangria with peanuts, olives of both colors, hazelnuts, and peanuts to nosh on. After some sufficiently awkward conversation in mixed Spanish and English, we sat down to a delicious meal of fajitas- which is a Mexican meal btw, not Spanish. That part was fairly normal. It was after the food when things got weird. Kelly's host mom brought out a beautifully decorated cake with a gigantic rose candle on top. We all sang and while Kelly thought up a wish and blew out the candle. It was oddly similar to US bday traditions. Then her madre brought out more candies, a bottle of liquor, and two jugs of some kind of homemade moonshine. She urged all of us to drink her concoctions, but lucky I conjured up enough Spanish to politely turn her down (the drinks were peach and orange liquors with a plethora of mystery floating bits inside). Somewhere between the cake and the moonshine, Gabriel, Adam, and witch woman all started talking about marijuana. I have no clue how that happened. Before we knew it Kelly's madre was pouring out her past experiences with many, many different kinds of hard drugs and swapping bad trip stories with Gabriel. Gabriel knew far too much about drugs, he was an expert. He even offered to get Adam any kind of drugs if he ever wanted some. At one point in the convo the witch woman got up grabbed a sketchy looking box. We were all sure she was going to pull out some weed. But no, turns out she just wanted to offer Gabriel and Adam paper for rolling joints. All of us girls traded baffled looking and had mutual thoughts of "is this really happening right now". After the drug talk things continued to be obscure as all get out. Once again I'm not sure why/how this happened, but Gabriel pulled out his laptop and started singing "Desperado" at the dinner table. That kind of randomness happened all night. After the bday celebration of confusion, befuddlement, and stifled laughter all of us guests headed home to reflect on the craziness that just went down. I'd say it was good night, and I plan on doing it again.

Oh, funny extra tid-bit: Gabriel was talking about gay people at some point and referred to them as "coming out of the wardrobe". Man language barriers are funny.

Galacia, Santiago...and someplace else

Everyone here, including myself, has come to the conclusion that we never have school. This past weekend was yet another three day weekend. That meant our first overnight excursion. Friday after class we packed up our things and headed to Galacia on a five-ish hour bus ride. It was long to say the least, but I of course enjoyed it because I was raised on seemingly endless drives.

Once we got to Galacia (which is in a northern harbor type part of Spain) we settled in to our cozy hostal. This was my first ever hostal experience. It was pretty much the same as a hotel, but with a common area, a variety of differently decorated rooms, and an adorable old couple who ran the place. Staying in the hostal turned out to be super fun because every night was like a sleepover. (Cultural note- in Oviedo, or maybe all of Spain, it's very uncommon to have friends, neighbors, and sometimes even family members come over to your house or apartment. So since we can't normally hang out in each other's homestays, this weekend of sleepoverness was awesome). Driving and hanging in the hostal were the majority of Friday's activities.

Saturday the AHA group explored Galacia. I should mention that the AHA group wasn't actually chaperoned by any AHA officials. The only consistent "adult supervision" was an art professor from the university, the visiting professor from OSU, and our bus driver. But I guess we're all in college and technically don't need supervision. Anywho, Saturday was kicked off with a trip to a beautiful lookout point. The look out point was cool, but I got distracted by a playground in the area. This playground had the most legit teeter-totter I've ever played on. It was huge, spun, and had a giant spring in the middle so you bounced as you whirled round and round. There was also a giant hedge maze. With five minutes left to spare at the lookout point, four of us decided it was a good idea to attempt the maze. Bad idea. We ended up getting intensely stuck inside for more than ten minutes, which forced the bus driver and our fellow students to wait for us as we fought our way out. Oops. After that extravaganza we all headed to El Torre De Hercules. It was a giant tower, maybe a lighthouse at one point, along the ocean front. We climbed our way to the top and were able to see for miles. After venturing back down the tower we were let loose on the city. Some of us decided to check out the local aquarium. It was awesome. I love aquariums. This one had a huge room dedicated to 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. There were sharks, eels, stingrays- the whole shebang. Although I must say it was nothing compared to my favorite aquarium, The Monterey Bay Aquarium.

On Sunday we bused it out to Santiago. Santiago is an ancient city with some neat significance. The coolest part of Santiago is the cathedral. People make pilgrimages from all over Europe to The Cathedral. There were people inside attending mass adorned in hiking gear with giant packs on their backs. It was really neat to get to see all these people at the end of their doubtlessly long journeys. I only felt slightly guilty for having taken a bus there. Not only did we get to go inside of the cathedral, but we also got to go on top of it. That's right, up to the roof. It was flipping awesome. At first our tour started out pretty normal. We went through some old rooms, learned some stuff, blah blah blah. And then things got crazy. We went up some stairs that headed to a door, and beyond the door was the cathedral roof. Then we got a sky view tour of the rest of the city from the bajillion year old roof, no big deal. I felt like a BAMF for sure. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that it was pouring down rain that day. This wasn't any normal I'm-from-California-and-don't-understand-the-concept-of-rain kinda storm, it was so crazy that even Oregonians appreciated it. Umbrellas were breaking left and right. I loved every drop of it.

On Monday we made the trek back to Oviedo. At some point we stopped and saw a Roman style cathedral in some city, but I couldn't tell you what cathedral it was or which city we were in, so enough about that. All in all it was a good first overnight excursion and I'm looking forward to the next one.

Bread & Salsa

Who's ready for some random stories?

Bread.

The other day I was sitting in my room doing some homework when my host mom yelled "mi madre!" and continued to freak out a bit. The worst had happened- she forgot to buy bread at the store. (Cultural note: bread is freakishly important here. In a Spaniard's mind, in order to live you need to breathe and consume bread. On national holidays everything is closed except for bread shops). I poked my head out of my room to see what all the commotion was about. Mistake. My madre looked at me, looked at my feet, saw that I still had shoes on, and then got a magical glow in her eyes as if a light bulb had ignited in her mind. She was dressed in her house clothes- an oversized orange velourish sweat suit- and since I still had regular clothes and actual shoes on she pleaded me to go out to the store and buy bread. Before I knew it I was out the door with a piece of paper with the type of bread I was to buy scribbled on it and a euro in my hand. Confused and Non-native, I found my way to the bakery counter in the grocery store. I showed the lady the piece of paper with my order on it and she spat back a bunch of unidentifiable Spanish at me (they don't teach you bakery bargaining lingo in Spanish textbooks). I told her one moment please, and then walked around the store for a bit trying to decipher what she said and figure out a way to not look stupid and purchase my bread. I bucked up, returned to the counter, and was ready to complete my bread mission. I told the lady, with more authority this time, what kind of bread I wanted. She then held up two loaves and told me something to the effect of "here's the one you want, but here's the one you should get". Touché bread lady. I took "the one you should get"...which was a bad choice. When I returned home my host mom not only questioned why I took so long at the store, but she also informed me that I bought the wrong kind. The kind I bought is made with more water and is too airy. The kind she likes is dense and more flavorful. I haven't heard the end of it since. I might go in the kitchen right now and down that loaf of bread just so I don't have to hear about my bread ignorance any more.

Salsa.

For the past three weeks my Irish friend from school has been trying to get everyone from our program to go Salsa dancing at a local club. It's not real Spanish Salsa dancing. It's actually a couple instructors who teach mostly exchange students a few basic steps. Thursday night several people from my AHA group met up to check out this Salsa deal. We started with a group of about ten guys and girls, but somehow only four of us made it to the Salsa place. When the clock struck 11pm the instructor came out and nearly physically forced the six people in the club to dance. The first dance of the night was Merengue. (Neither Salsa nor Merengue are true Spanish dances by the way, feel free to Wikipedia this for further info). It started out with simple forward and back steps and a few hips swings for flavor. Then came the partner moves. This was when hilarity ensued. I was paired with the teddy bear of the AHA group. And by teddy bear I mean grizzly bear because this guy is easily 6'3". With me standing at a small 5'2" you can imagine what a sight we were. As the dance steps got more complex our laughter only got louder. We both chuckled off our lack of dance skills and embraced our humorous height difference. After that the dancing turned into some kind of circular deal where you trade partners time and time again, which got too intense for me. I slyly traded myself out of the dancing circle and called it a night. All in all it was a hilariously fun experience in which I successfully did not learn how to Salsa dance. Oh well, there's always next week!

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

My Spanish has yet to improve tremendously, so I've inadvertently become a liar. My host mom or teachers ask me questions in Spanish and I'm rarely entirely sure of what they're saying. I typically throw back the few Spanish words I know in a different order each time I'm asked a question. It's caused me to give false information about the number of siblings I have, where I'm planning on going, and whether or not I enjoy the food I'm consuming. This tid bit about lying is really random, but it was what motivated my title on this post.

On to more organized thoughts. This weekend AHA planned an excursion for the group. We went to Santillana and Covadonga. In Santillana we went to a historic torture museum. It was disgustingly cool. The worst ancient torture device I saw was an iron pyramid. It had a point at the top that went in one end of the hopefully deserving culprit and came out the other end. Even though it was intriguing, I wasn't able to each my lunch for several hours after that display. After Santillana we rolled out to Covadonga. The most noteworthy part of Covadonga was the alleged Marriage Water. At the base of a mountain, there is a fountain that has seven spouts. If you drink from each spout then marriage will come your way. Start saving your money for a wedding Mom & Dad, I drank the mystical water. Of course every girl in the group got on that asap. It was a grand old time.

Here's another random story, just because I can. My host mom is never home in the mornings so I'm routinely left to scrounge up my own breakfast. I usually have coffee, some fruit, and yogurt. One day last week I decided to branch out with my yogurt. Instead of going for the usual berry brand I grabbed an unknown kind of yogurt from the fridge. It looked harmless, but then I put a spoonful in my mouth and couldn't even choke it down. It tasted like rubber with a similar consistency. Even though I'm usually a trooper about eating food I dislike, I couldn't handle this one. I chucked it in a garbage can outside my apartment so the madre wouldn't see that I wasted food. A couple days later I was eating dinner while my host mom was feeding Samy, the dog. After she fed him his kibble she gave him an after dinner goodie. As I look over, I notice that the aforementioned goodie was the same "yogurt" I'd eaten for breakfast days earlier. Turns out I attempted to chow down on a substance that is meant to regulate Samy's digestion. I basically ate dog food.

I should probably spend some more time with my nose in a Spanish/English dictionary so I can avoid lying and consuming dog food.

Two American Students and a Spaniard

This weekend was a three day weekend, and an eventful one at that. Let me set some scenes for you all.

Friday- Two American girls and a Spaniard walk into a bar. The lighting is dim, the ground is spattered with peanut shells, and the air is thick with cigarette smoke. I sit down on an unusually low stool, unsure of the meaning of the Spanish words whipping past my ears. Suddenly a pint of frothy beer, four small cups, and grande mystery concoction are placed in front of me. The Spaniard starts firing rapid Spanish at my American friend and me. Before I know it I'm bouncing a penny on a filthy table, throwing a sip of the mystery concoction down my throat, and yelling a foreign phrase. Somehow I'd found myself in the middle of a Spanish drinking game.

Ok, ok, by now you're probably thinking who's stolen Kate's computer and written false tales about her? But it's all true, and it's really not as bad and sketchy as it sounds. The Spaniard was my friend's host brother, the son of her host mom, who came home from college for the long weekend. He took us on an insider tour of the city which ended in a bar. It was very neat to learn about the city from him and to hear his views on U.S. politics (he was the first person to tell me Obama got a Nobel Prize). Once we ended up in a bar I informed him that I don't drink, a concept which he couldn't grasp. When he presented us with the drinking game he tamed it down so us nondrinkers could play. The mystery concoction was part beer, part banana drink. I rocked the game so that I wouldn't have to drink much. I had a total of probably three sips of the mixture. No worries everyone, it was a purely cultural experience which did not hinder my sobriety. And that was just Friday night.

Saturday- A hot bus ride. Giant elaborately painted blocks. The smell of the ocean. Breathtaking views. Two pizzas. And a lot of laughter. That was my Saturday in a nutshell. Four other girls and myself planned a day trip to the beautiful coastal town of Llanes. Unfortunately we didn't plan well enough and ended up missing our first bus. With this minor set back, we had about three hours to wander the city. We found a jetty type deal with large cement blocks, all adorned with obscure artwork. It was a memorial for the Cubans...we think. After our idle wandering, we were starved and used jumbled Spanish to get directions to a local Pizzeria. We split two pizzas to satisfy our hunger pangs. It was a beautiful and yummy day.

Sunday- are you ready for some fuuuutttbooolllll!!! On Sunday seven of us headed to Gijon for a day dedicated to soccer. The environment was thick with tension as Asturias' two biggest rivals prepared to face off: Gijon vs. Oviedo. This was a rivalry fought mainly by the fans. As we slowly approached the stadium we saw a sea of red and white, the Gijon team colors. An occasional blue (Oviedo's main color) was spotted, but rare. The fans have a dying devotion to their hometowns and a deep hatred for anyone supports the opposing side.

A first hand example of the hatred: before the game the seven of us sat at a nearby cafe enjoying the surrounding park. We sipped on our coffees when all of a sudden- BANG! A shot was fired. Mayhem broke lose. Hundreds of birds flew in chaotic circles above us. A herd of men ran through the outdoor cafe in a blur of white and red. I was sure I was going to die. One girl from our group was sure she was witnessing the running of the bulls. After moments of sheer confusion and heart-stopping panic, we deduced that the gun shot came from the riot control officers and was merely a warning shot. Needless to say I peed my pants a little.

Once the pre-game rush was over and we made it into the stadium the fans didn't lose any steam. The small, but passionate, Oviedo cheering section was guarded by police officers on all sides. The cheers and jeers of the game consisted mostly of profanities and flying middle fingers. Sadly Oviedo lost in the end 1-0, but it was a good match up. Us seven foreigners kept our mouths shut throughout the extravaganza as to not offend either side, and to keep all of our appendages intact. What a sporting event!

Monday- Monday was supposed to be my day to catch up on sleep and do homework. For the most part it was a fairly uneventful day...until I was slightly horrified by the acts of an all too friendly stranger. Midday a few of us went out for coffee and a good chat. As we were sitting there shooting the breeze a middle aged man came up and started asking us if we're students from the United States. He was talking about wanting to have an English speaking student as a conversation partner in order to improve his English. Then out of no where he takes a sudden interest in me. He asked my name and if it was short for Catalina and where I was from. Then he grabbed the back of my neck all too firmly, told me I had a beautiful smile, and said "un beso" and kissed my cheek four times with enough force to turn me bright red and sufficiently creep me out. Then he walked away and left all of us baffled. That sure is one way to end the weekend.

Congratulations to Spain for giving me one of the most eventful, beautiful, and creepy weekends of my life. And congratulations to any of you readers who made it to the end of this intensely long post.

The Study of Hand Gestures, Facial Expressions, and Body Language

I've officially been in Oviedo for a week! And a hectic one at that. Life here is unlike anything I've ever experienced, and yet at times I forget I'm in a foreign country. The days seems to last forever, but I already feel like I've been here for a month. In this post I'll take you through some of my daily occurrences and throw in a few not-so-typical occurrences as well.

Monday of this week I took the placement test to see which level of Spanish courses I could take. I had fears of being placed too high and needing to come down a level due to an inaccurate test. Boy was I humbled by the results. I placed into Intermediate 1, the lowest of low levels. Go me! It turns out that's exactly where I need to be. I've had two days so far of grammar, vocabulary, art, phonetics, translation, and history. Turns out that's quite the work load, so I'll be cutting out phonetics and art. Anyway, the classes are fairly small, less than 15 students in each. I have classes with about 5 people from my program and the rest are from other international programs. Some students are from a school in Florida, others are from Japan, China, Finland, Germany, Ireland, Russia, and even Lithuania (Lithuanian heritage shout out!). Those international students are incredible. They all speak their native languages, English, typically something else like French, and on top of it all they're better at Spanish than I am. Hey rest of the world, way to be multilingual.

After class, most of us students usually find our way to a nearby cafe. It's a delicious way to relax after a long day of straining my brain in attempts to understand Spanish. I go to cafes about two times a day to get a cafe con leche or a cocacola. That's pretty standard around here. No one is in a rush and drinking an insanely small cup of coffee can last for two hours. I have yet to have a meal out on my own since my host mom makes me copious amounts of scrumptious food all the time. Somewhere around 2pm every day I bust out my sack lunch from home, just like old school days.

Ok, I decided to switch things up and just start spewing out random things that have happened to me/things that happen regularly:

-Last week we went to Gijon, a beautiful beach city with Roman Ruins just a half hour bus ride from here.

-Right now my host mom is practicing the accordion in the other room.

-Yesterday at a cafe two men with a microphone and a news camera came up to a group of us and interviewed us, in Spanish of course, and we may or may not end up looking like really dumb Americans on a Spanish TV program.

-They don't like dryers here. Laundry is all air dried. Hello underwear drying display in the middle of the room.

-There aren't many regulations or rules posted. It's pretty much a free for all when it comes to your safety.

-My host mom's dog, Samy, gets a little rough while playing and bit my butt the other day.

-My host mom can't pronounce "Kate". It comes out like "kah-tay" or sometimes even Kelly.

-Everyone here stares at each other (or maybe just me) on the streets, but no one exchanges smiles.

-I'm currently attempting to think of more to write because I don't want to read for my history class.

Once I get more settled in my classes I'll write a more detailed entry on them. If anyone wants more info on any of these tid-bits just holler at me. Oh! I almost forgot. The reason for the title of this entry- I am not so good when it comes to understanding my teachers and host mom who rapidly fire Spanish at me. I've become really good at playing off of their facial expressions, elaborate hand gestures (luckily for me they use a lot of them), and other body language. I usually nod, smile, and say si a lot. It's gotten me in trouble a few times, but for now I'm sticking to these interpreting methods. Wish me luck!

I'm in love...with FOOD.

This will be a short entry, but I've been enjoying the food/drinks so much here that I thought I'd dedicate a post to it.

I love food. I love food in general, but I especially love it here. That may have something to do with the fact that it's always served to me. My madre even spreads cheese on my bread for me- but I'll get to that cheese later.

Something that Spain is famous for is coffee. I had my first sip the other day and it was a little drop of heaven. I got it in the most peculiar way. It came out of a machine. It was like those machines in gas stations where you grab a cup and have options as to what to fill it up with, but different. With these machines you put your money in (55 euro cents), it drops down a very tiny cup, fills it with deliciousness (I prefer cafe con leche), drops in a little stir stick, and then you lift a small door and drink up. Did I mention that those are inside my university? Simply perfect.

Cafe con leche is the only drink I've tried, but I've been more adventurous with food. A delicious meal dish was rice with carrots, corn, something green, salted zucchini and a fried egg to the side. They eat eggs for lunch and dinner, not breakfast. For breakfast it's typical to have cereal/granola, yogurt, and fruit. Lunch is the main meal of the day and is eaten around 2 until 3 or so. One day for lunch we all had a starter of lentils, a main dish of a tortilla (but not a regular tortilla, it was a fatty potato tortilla topped with a sweet red pepper), and a sliced succulent melon for desert. Since lunch is so late, our host moms are asked to pack us a bocadillo (a small sandwich). Those are pretty standard, except today my madre put ham and cheese inside a roll that had chocolate chips in it. Everything here is laced with chocolate and most dishes have bread on the side, which is fantastic because those are quite possibly my two favorite consumables. Ok, moving on to the cheese. There is this cheese that my madre bought that looks like goat cheese or blue cheese. It was out on the table so I went to put in on my salad one night and my madre gave me an odd look and spread it on my bread for me. I normally don't like goat cheese so I was hesitant, but it was delicious! Cheese success.

So much for a short post. I guess consuming food is more of a passion of mine than I realized.

I Made It!

After more than 24 hours of traveling I made it to Oviedo. It was an extremely long journey full of flying and waiting in unfamiliar places. Turns out I'm not the biggest fan. You know how people always talk about how plane food is so unappetizing? Well I conquer. For dinner the options were lasagna or chicken. I couldn't tell you which choice I was served, but I do know it looked exactly the same coming up in reverse. I was able to forget my stomach's battle with bad food once I got to my gate in Paris and found about ten other students from my program there. We rode out the last leg together and then took buses and split taxis (my first taxi ride!) to the program's headquarters. Thankfully, on the first day everyone spoke English to one another. Later on, after some mingling and bonding, our host parents were to come pick us up. My host mom either didn't have a car or wasn't able to come get me, so I had to take a taxi to her apartment (my second taxi ride!).

Ok enough play by play, time for some descriptions. My host mom (Pilar) is adorable. She's shorter than me, which is really short, with some kind of blondish brownish hair. She's very nice and speaks Spanish to me like I'm fluent, which I'm not. I do a lot of nodding, smiling, and agreeing. She has a dog too. His name is Samy and he's a siberian husky. I've already gone on two walks with Pilar and Samy and they seem to know all the other dogs and their owners around town. It's neat. Pilar has an apartment on the sixth floor with a beautiful little terrace. The apartment is all very compact, but cute too. My room is her son's old room and it has lots of random boy things in it. For instance, there's a giant train set hung on the wall. Oh, and it turns out Pilar has hosted many students before me. It's insane. She has pictures everywhere of previous students. Overall I like my host mom and the house.

My university is only a ten minute walk from the apartment. It's a beautiful campus. Today we had an orientation and a walking tour of the city. I don't have any classes this week, they start next tuesday. During the walking tour we went to a Cathedral and a park called San Francisco (SF shout out). I was talking to a woman who works for AHA and lives here about my hometown, and after I told her it's called San Ramon she laughed because Ramon is a very common name for men and she found it odd to be the name of a city. It would be like having a city in the US called Saint Bob. Anywho, today was also a day for meeting my peers from the program. Everyone is really friendly and we all talk to one another and bond over common feelings of nervousness. Thus far all of us have been speaking in English- except for the token showoff who talks to everyone in Spanish, but she's still nice. Some of the girls live near by me and tomorrow we're going to meet and walk to the University together, which is great because I already got a tad lost today.

I could conjure up a million more stories, but for now I'll give it rest and head off to bed. I can't believe it's only the end of my first full day!

Hello World

So this is blogging, eh? I'm new to it. I've already given up on the gadgets aspect. Anywho, there's a purpose behind my new-found-blogging. I'm going to Spain, Oviedo to be exact. I leave in approximately 34 hours. I'm nearly packed (whether I forgot anything or not is a different story). I have no idea what to expect in the coming three months, but I'm anxious to find out. So far I know that I'll be living with a host mom and her dog in an apartment. Also, I'll be taking Spanish courses at the local university. One more thing I know is that I have a lot more Spanish to learn and a lot less English to speak. I invite anyone and everyone to join me on this journey of upcoming adventures through the method of blogging. Enjoy!