Thursday, April 29, 2010
Down the Rabbit Hole
Days left in Barcelona: ONE!!!!! :)
Here I am sitting at my computer, bags packed, struggling for words to describe the time I spent in Amsterdam. What was supposed to be 15 of our friends spending the weekend there turned into Rebecca and I, alone, stranded for nearly a week.
Before detailing the hilarity of this adventure, I would first like to defend Amsterdam. There is so much more to the city than the red-light district. The city somehow strikes a balance between being innappropriate yet charming. Never before have I been somewhere that accomplishes that. Sitting outside a cafe drinking a beer along the canals, you easily forget what kind of scandal is waiting around the corner. Plus, they have bagels there and of course, MariJuana is legal. Just kidding, Mom. Though that's obviously a really interesting part of the culture, too.
The first night we stayed in the Flying Pig hostel downtown, just a five minute walk from the middle of red-light. The people staying there were a quirky crew and we quickly assembled a gang of misfits - British furniture designer, U.S. student, 30 year old Asian, kid named Antonio, etc. In the first three nights, we stayed in three different hostels: The Flying Pig Downtown, StayOkay Vondelpark, and The Flying Pig Uptown, ultimately spending our days stranded at the Flying Pig Downtown where their moto is "Home is in your head." I was intent on ripping down that sign by the end of our stay.
I guess I should touch on the weed culture since I made that awful joke earlier. As a girl who despises anything that has to do with inhaling smoke (Thanks, Dad!), I didn't really enjoy smelling like Marijauna when I went to bed, but it was completely unavoidable. In Amsterdam, "Coffee Shops" don't in fact specialize in coffee, but sell Marijuana over the counter. While someone walking down the street in Barcelona is smoking a cigarette, someone walking down the street in Amsterdam is smoking a joint.
Personally, I preferred riding the bikes we rented down the canal streets and up through the countryside stopping to take a break to look at windmills. Holy heck, Amsterdam people know how to bike!! Their bike lanes and traffic signals are more extensive than the ones for cars. You can imagine me trying to ride a bike AND look at a map at the same time. Let's just say, I'm lucky to be alive... But that could be said for the whole trip haha.
We waited until Sunday morning when our flight was officially cancelled to be pro-active about finding an alternate way back to Barcelona. At the train station, we waited four hours to have the women tell us, "I can't help you. I can get you as far as Paris but then you're on your own." We tried asking if we could go through a city other than Paris, at which point she pulled out a map of Europe and laughed at us. Woa, lady, I know what Europe looks like. Utterly defeated by her rudeness, we set our sights on the bus station hoping for better results. Success!! We jumped at the opportunity for two bus tickets at 80 Euro each. Much cheaper than the train and we were guaranteed to get to Barcelona.
The only downside was having to stay in Amsterdam for another three days, but being the lovely ladies that we are, we took this as a sign that we were meant to have extra days of vacation, which we fully enjoyed. Early wednesday morning we boarded our bus and started the 24 hour ride. Finally, this part of the trip went completely smoothly! Except for that my seat was the only one that didn't recline and we stopped every hour to let the old folks go to the bathroom. Oh, and someone on our bus got arressted for terrorist suscipicions. But, yeah, other than that, totally perfect.
All in all, I am extremely proud of us. It was chaos and we did what we had to do to make it home. Now we can say that when the volcanic ash of 2010 grounded all European flights for four days, we were stranded in Amsterdam. Hey, that's a pretty cool story :)
Besos y Abrazos!
P.S. Towards the end of the trip, we started to look pretty "rugged" so be kind on your judgment of the pictures.
Here I am sitting at my computer, bags packed, struggling for words to describe the time I spent in Amsterdam. What was supposed to be 15 of our friends spending the weekend there turned into Rebecca and I, alone, stranded for nearly a week.
Before detailing the hilarity of this adventure, I would first like to defend Amsterdam. There is so much more to the city than the red-light district. The city somehow strikes a balance between being innappropriate yet charming. Never before have I been somewhere that accomplishes that. Sitting outside a cafe drinking a beer along the canals, you easily forget what kind of scandal is waiting around the corner. Plus, they have bagels there and of course, MariJuana is legal. Just kidding, Mom. Though that's obviously a really interesting part of the culture, too.
The first night we stayed in the Flying Pig hostel downtown, just a five minute walk from the middle of red-light. The people staying there were a quirky crew and we quickly assembled a gang of misfits - British furniture designer, U.S. student, 30 year old Asian, kid named Antonio, etc. In the first three nights, we stayed in three different hostels: The Flying Pig Downtown, StayOkay Vondelpark, and The Flying Pig Uptown, ultimately spending our days stranded at the Flying Pig Downtown where their moto is "Home is in your head." I was intent on ripping down that sign by the end of our stay.
I guess I should touch on the weed culture since I made that awful joke earlier. As a girl who despises anything that has to do with inhaling smoke (Thanks, Dad!), I didn't really enjoy smelling like Marijauna when I went to bed, but it was completely unavoidable. In Amsterdam, "Coffee Shops" don't in fact specialize in coffee, but sell Marijuana over the counter. While someone walking down the street in Barcelona is smoking a cigarette, someone walking down the street in Amsterdam is smoking a joint.
Personally, I preferred riding the bikes we rented down the canal streets and up through the countryside stopping to take a break to look at windmills. Holy heck, Amsterdam people know how to bike!! Their bike lanes and traffic signals are more extensive than the ones for cars. You can imagine me trying to ride a bike AND look at a map at the same time. Let's just say, I'm lucky to be alive... But that could be said for the whole trip haha.
We waited until Sunday morning when our flight was officially cancelled to be pro-active about finding an alternate way back to Barcelona. At the train station, we waited four hours to have the women tell us, "I can't help you. I can get you as far as Paris but then you're on your own." We tried asking if we could go through a city other than Paris, at which point she pulled out a map of Europe and laughed at us. Woa, lady, I know what Europe looks like. Utterly defeated by her rudeness, we set our sights on the bus station hoping for better results. Success!! We jumped at the opportunity for two bus tickets at 80 Euro each. Much cheaper than the train and we were guaranteed to get to Barcelona.
The only downside was having to stay in Amsterdam for another three days, but being the lovely ladies that we are, we took this as a sign that we were meant to have extra days of vacation, which we fully enjoyed. Early wednesday morning we boarded our bus and started the 24 hour ride. Finally, this part of the trip went completely smoothly! Except for that my seat was the only one that didn't recline and we stopped every hour to let the old folks go to the bathroom. Oh, and someone on our bus got arressted for terrorist suscipicions. But, yeah, other than that, totally perfect.
All in all, I am extremely proud of us. It was chaos and we did what we had to do to make it home. Now we can say that when the volcanic ash of 2010 grounded all European flights for four days, we were stranded in Amsterdam. Hey, that's a pretty cool story :)
Besos y Abrazos!
P.S. Towards the end of the trip, we started to look pretty "rugged" so be kind on your judgment of the pictures.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
European Vacation
Days left in Barcelona: 2-ish
Yet again, I prove how unreliable a blogger I am. Maybe 2 posts a day?? Oops. I'm not sure that I was thinking very realistically. When I haven't been studying for finals and doing powerpoints for presentations, I've been trying to catch as much sun as possible and go to all my favorite places in Barcelona.
Topic of this blog post: Mom, Dad, and Bridgie hit Barcelona. Oh man, where do I start? At the beginning, right. Read with caution: I think this one is gonna be a doozy
Due to unforseeable and unfortunate events, we spent our first day of their vacation in the police station, calling major credit card companies, and driving up and down the ramp at the rental car station. At the time, I remember thinking, "Oh, wow, I forgot what it was like to travel with my family." Now, I wish that I could do that trip 10 times over.
After our rocky start, we finally got in the car to start the adventure through the French Riviera. With the help of the Garmin GPS system, which I lovingly dubbed "The Gremlin" because I could never remember the real name, we made it to our destination of Nice, France - of course, not without a couple of bumps along the way.
We all had our "jobs". Dad drove. I worked the Gremlin. Mom read guide books and looked at maps. Jet read books, slept, and took pictures - I would have traded with her in a heartbeat. Navigating the way wasn't the easiest job. At one point, Mom handed me a map to consult. It wasn't a map, it was a lifesize poster. When unfolded, I couldn't even see the road. On the way we stopped in Arles, a beautiful French town complete with Roman ruins. Other towns/country we visted were Monaco, Lourmarin, Bonnieux, Lacoste, and L'Isle Sur le Sorgue. The towns atop cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean charmed me. The hike up wouldn't thrill me on a daily basis, but I wouldn't mind sitting on a bench up there all day looking out at the ocean. The hilltowns of France were equally charming. We all caught ourselves saying, "Wow, I hadn't realized how beautiful the south of France was." To which Mom respond, "Didn't any of you look at the links I sent you or do any research?" I did the most out of the three of us and that's really not saying much. I actually think Austin knew more about the places we were going than I did - go figure. Dad saved his research for on sight. I think he now knows more about the structure of Roman ruins than we could have ever imagined. He's got an eye for that kind of stuff and he also spent a lot of time walking around the outerwalls of the towns. One time, I was a great daughter and walked to the top of Lacoste to see the Marquis de Sade's castle. Totally creepy but worth the trip.
We ate at some delicious French cafes courtesy of Rick Steves's advice. He really knows his stuff. Though, again it proved difficult to try and order things in French. Mom picked up pretty quickly, remembering how to count to two and what the names for different foods were. We also ate at a few not so good places which I blame on my constant cravings for American food. Mom rolled her eyes, and in retrospect I should have to, when I suggested going to a Buffalo grille. It was...odd. They served us popcorn as an appetizer. Laughable though to consider that's what they think of American food. There were also pictures of Native Americans adorning the walls. Wow. Speaking of wow, had the BEST gelato of my life in Nice. Score 2 for Rick Steves!!
After a beautiful 5 days in the South of France, we came back to Barcelona to enjoy my city for a few days. I gave them a personal tour of MY Barcelona, which was a lot of walking and ultimately resulted in an exhausted family. Dad made fun of me for taking them to the same restaurants that I took Megan and the girls to, but hey, stick with what you know is good, right? We also did a bus tour of the city which made me realize just how little I get to see of Barcelona on a daily basis. I felt a bit embarrassed not to be able to answer their questions - What's this? What's that? Um...I stay in the same 30 minute walking zone all the time.
All in all, it was an absolutely amazing trip. After the fears of them not being able to come due to British Airways strikes, I felt very lucky to have them here. Hugging me goodbye, Mom said, "I feel like a bad parent leaving you in this big city all by yourself." To which I laughed, because I had been in this "big, scary" city for nearly 3 months. I came back to my room feeling more homesick than I have my whole 106 days here. Now here I am, being able to say that I go home the day after tomorrow. Time really really does fly.
I got the backpack back from lost and found. It is currently haphazardly packed away in my suitcase. I had to ductape it to get it to fit... So thanks for that, Mom, it actually did come in handy.
P.S. Pictures to follow.
Besos y Abrazos <3
Yet again, I prove how unreliable a blogger I am. Maybe 2 posts a day?? Oops. I'm not sure that I was thinking very realistically. When I haven't been studying for finals and doing powerpoints for presentations, I've been trying to catch as much sun as possible and go to all my favorite places in Barcelona.
Topic of this blog post: Mom, Dad, and Bridgie hit Barcelona. Oh man, where do I start? At the beginning, right. Read with caution: I think this one is gonna be a doozy
Due to unforseeable and unfortunate events, we spent our first day of their vacation in the police station, calling major credit card companies, and driving up and down the ramp at the rental car station. At the time, I remember thinking, "Oh, wow, I forgot what it was like to travel with my family." Now, I wish that I could do that trip 10 times over.
After our rocky start, we finally got in the car to start the adventure through the French Riviera. With the help of the Garmin GPS system, which I lovingly dubbed "The Gremlin" because I could never remember the real name, we made it to our destination of Nice, France - of course, not without a couple of bumps along the way.
We all had our "jobs". Dad drove. I worked the Gremlin. Mom read guide books and looked at maps. Jet read books, slept, and took pictures - I would have traded with her in a heartbeat. Navigating the way wasn't the easiest job. At one point, Mom handed me a map to consult. It wasn't a map, it was a lifesize poster. When unfolded, I couldn't even see the road. On the way we stopped in Arles, a beautiful French town complete with Roman ruins. Other towns/country we visted were Monaco, Lourmarin, Bonnieux, Lacoste, and L'Isle Sur le Sorgue. The towns atop cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean charmed me. The hike up wouldn't thrill me on a daily basis, but I wouldn't mind sitting on a bench up there all day looking out at the ocean. The hilltowns of France were equally charming. We all caught ourselves saying, "Wow, I hadn't realized how beautiful the south of France was." To which Mom respond, "Didn't any of you look at the links I sent you or do any research?" I did the most out of the three of us and that's really not saying much. I actually think Austin knew more about the places we were going than I did - go figure. Dad saved his research for on sight. I think he now knows more about the structure of Roman ruins than we could have ever imagined. He's got an eye for that kind of stuff and he also spent a lot of time walking around the outerwalls of the towns. One time, I was a great daughter and walked to the top of Lacoste to see the Marquis de Sade's castle. Totally creepy but worth the trip.
We ate at some delicious French cafes courtesy of Rick Steves's advice. He really knows his stuff. Though, again it proved difficult to try and order things in French. Mom picked up pretty quickly, remembering how to count to two and what the names for different foods were. We also ate at a few not so good places which I blame on my constant cravings for American food. Mom rolled her eyes, and in retrospect I should have to, when I suggested going to a Buffalo grille. It was...odd. They served us popcorn as an appetizer. Laughable though to consider that's what they think of American food. There were also pictures of Native Americans adorning the walls. Wow. Speaking of wow, had the BEST gelato of my life in Nice. Score 2 for Rick Steves!!
After a beautiful 5 days in the South of France, we came back to Barcelona to enjoy my city for a few days. I gave them a personal tour of MY Barcelona, which was a lot of walking and ultimately resulted in an exhausted family. Dad made fun of me for taking them to the same restaurants that I took Megan and the girls to, but hey, stick with what you know is good, right? We also did a bus tour of the city which made me realize just how little I get to see of Barcelona on a daily basis. I felt a bit embarrassed not to be able to answer their questions - What's this? What's that? Um...I stay in the same 30 minute walking zone all the time.
All in all, it was an absolutely amazing trip. After the fears of them not being able to come due to British Airways strikes, I felt very lucky to have them here. Hugging me goodbye, Mom said, "I feel like a bad parent leaving you in this big city all by yourself." To which I laughed, because I had been in this "big, scary" city for nearly 3 months. I came back to my room feeling more homesick than I have my whole 106 days here. Now here I am, being able to say that I go home the day after tomorrow. Time really really does fly.
I got the backpack back from lost and found. It is currently haphazardly packed away in my suitcase. I had to ductape it to get it to fit... So thanks for that, Mom, it actually did come in handy.
P.S. Pictures to follow.
Besos y Abrazos <3
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Je T'aime Paris!
Days left in Barcelona: Still 5
Okay, this one has been a long time coming. Even though it was only a little more than a month ago that I was there, it feels like forever ago. I had always heard mixed reviews about Paris. People either said they loved it or that it was overrated. I loved it. I would never want to live there, but a weekend visit was absolute perfection.
Four things I will always remember about Paris:
There's a beautiful historical building on every corner.
I could eat a crepe every day of my life.
Never before have I felt like such a minority.
It has rightfully earned the reputation of being the most romantic city in Europe.
Paris, like most European cities, puts American history to shame. The Louvre, Versailles, Notre Dame - they all make you question how it is possible that human hands could build these absolutely amazing works of art. I do admit that I had a couple of Davinci Code moments where I could picture myself sneaking around the city searching for ancient secrets. Austin, if we make it on The Amazing Race, my dreams might just come true.
Holy heck. I hate Spanish food. On a bright note, though, had I been studying in France, I probably would have gained 20 pounds. And after freshman year, that NEVER needs to happen again. It did prove quite the challenge trying to order this delicious food, though. My french could use some work.
Maybe call me naive, but in my mind, I pictured French people walking around in fur coats walking Dalmations. They are all supposed to be really well-dressed, ridiculously good-looking, a little bit snobby, and be smoking those really long cigarettes and drinking coffee in outdoor cafes, right? Um...no. Well, at least not completely. I hadn't realized how diverse Paris was - a European megacenter of Africa, Asia, the Middle East. My friend Desiree that I was traveling with is Persian. 9 out of 10 times I sat down on a Metro, I was the only freckled white girl on it. It was, well, really enlightening. If any experience has humbled me and made me realize just how big the world is, it might be those moments sitting on the metro.
I'm not sure what they put in their water, but there are people in love EVERYWHERE. And it's not obnoxious like in Barcelona where you see 14 year olds making out on the street corners. In Paris, couples are holding hands, staring at eachother and acting like nothing else in the world exists. I found myself creepily taking pictures of couples because they were just so in love. I think that something about the Seine and the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night makes people go crazy.
Besos y Abrazos <3
Okay, this one has been a long time coming. Even though it was only a little more than a month ago that I was there, it feels like forever ago. I had always heard mixed reviews about Paris. People either said they loved it or that it was overrated. I loved it. I would never want to live there, but a weekend visit was absolute perfection.
Four things I will always remember about Paris:
There's a beautiful historical building on every corner.
I could eat a crepe every day of my life.
Never before have I felt like such a minority.
It has rightfully earned the reputation of being the most romantic city in Europe.
Paris, like most European cities, puts American history to shame. The Louvre, Versailles, Notre Dame - they all make you question how it is possible that human hands could build these absolutely amazing works of art. I do admit that I had a couple of Davinci Code moments where I could picture myself sneaking around the city searching for ancient secrets. Austin, if we make it on The Amazing Race, my dreams might just come true.
Holy heck. I hate Spanish food. On a bright note, though, had I been studying in France, I probably would have gained 20 pounds. And after freshman year, that NEVER needs to happen again. It did prove quite the challenge trying to order this delicious food, though. My french could use some work.
Maybe call me naive, but in my mind, I pictured French people walking around in fur coats walking Dalmations. They are all supposed to be really well-dressed, ridiculously good-looking, a little bit snobby, and be smoking those really long cigarettes and drinking coffee in outdoor cafes, right? Um...no. Well, at least not completely. I hadn't realized how diverse Paris was - a European megacenter of Africa, Asia, the Middle East. My friend Desiree that I was traveling with is Persian. 9 out of 10 times I sat down on a Metro, I was the only freckled white girl on it. It was, well, really enlightening. If any experience has humbled me and made me realize just how big the world is, it might be those moments sitting on the metro.
I'm not sure what they put in their water, but there are people in love EVERYWHERE. And it's not obnoxious like in Barcelona where you see 14 year olds making out on the street corners. In Paris, couples are holding hands, staring at eachother and acting like nothing else in the world exists. I found myself creepily taking pictures of couples because they were just so in love. I think that something about the Seine and the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night makes people go crazy.
Besos y Abrazos <3
Wrapping it Up
Day: I have completely lost count.
But for the remainder of my time it will now read as...
Days Left in Barcelona: 5
So it's been a month since I last wrote anything in my blog. Over the past three months I have really come to appreciate people who are able to keep up with their adventures on the internet. My mom told me that I shouldn't leave my blog unfinished, and she's completely right. As out of order and random it may be, it is the closest you'll get to my thoughts throughout this time. So, for your reading pleasure, you'll get a blog post a day (maybe even 2) until I'm on a plane heading for America. It is beautiful and sunny outside, but school plays this mean trick on you called final exams and presentations the last week here. Since I'm already confined to my computer, I will be sure to find breaks to show my bloggie a little attention...starting in about a half hour after I jam out to wedding songs and drink a bit of champagne.
BESOS Y ABRAZOS!!!
But for the remainder of my time it will now read as...
Days Left in Barcelona: 5
So it's been a month since I last wrote anything in my blog. Over the past three months I have really come to appreciate people who are able to keep up with their adventures on the internet. My mom told me that I shouldn't leave my blog unfinished, and she's completely right. As out of order and random it may be, it is the closest you'll get to my thoughts throughout this time. So, for your reading pleasure, you'll get a blog post a day (maybe even 2) until I'm on a plane heading for America. It is beautiful and sunny outside, but school plays this mean trick on you called final exams and presentations the last week here. Since I'm already confined to my computer, I will be sure to find breaks to show my bloggie a little attention...starting in about a half hour after I jam out to wedding songs and drink a bit of champagne.
BESOS Y ABRAZOS!!!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Rest is Sand :)
In case you didn't know the reference...
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in
front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and started to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured it into the
jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full... The students responded with an unanimous 'yes.'
The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
'Now,' said the professor, as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to
recognize that this jar represents your life...
The golf balls are the important things - God, family, children, health,
friends, and favorite passions. Things that if everything else was lost
and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the things that matter like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.
'If you put the sand into the jar first,' he continued, 'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, You will never have room for the things that are important to you.
So...
Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the dripping tap.
'Take care of the golf balls first -- The things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.'
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. 'I'm glad you asked'. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.'
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in
front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and started to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured it into the
jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full... The students responded with an unanimous 'yes.'
The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
'Now,' said the professor, as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to
recognize that this jar represents your life...
The golf balls are the important things - God, family, children, health,
friends, and favorite passions. Things that if everything else was lost
and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the things that matter like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.
'If you put the sand into the jar first,' he continued, 'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, You will never have room for the things that are important to you.
So...
Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the dripping tap.
'Take care of the golf balls first -- The things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.'
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. 'I'm glad you asked'. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.'
Reverse Culture Shock
Day 71
My roommate Rebecca, our friend Emily, and I went out for a delicious Chinese dinner last night. I have never eaten so much food at one meal. They had the best Sangria I have tasted in Barcelona, go figure!
On our way back on the metro, the topic of reverse culture shock came up. We all agreed that when we first arrived in Barcelona, we were taken aback by how different it was from home. But, now, after being here for almost three months, it doesn't seem that different anymore.
The things we complain about on a daily basis that we'll actually miss when we're gone...
Pace of life: Everything here is slow. Slow, slow, slow! If you have an appointment with someone, don't be surprised if they show up a half an hour late. Leave your house 10 minutes earlier than you normally would, because you have to dodge in and out of slow walking people on the metro. Allow 1 hour for lunch and 3 hours for dinner. I find myself getting impatient with the lack of urgency.
When I get home: STOP RUSHING ME!! There are plenty of hours in the day, and days in the week. Please, slow life down.
The Food: Blegh. I'm hungry. Sea creatures seem to accidentally show up in a lot of the food here. I want a burger.
When I get home: Holy heck, that's a lot of food. You could feed the hungry of the world with the food I'm going to waste.
Service: Yet again, slow and oftentimes...lacking. Servers here aren't working for tips, so they have no incentive for going above and beyond the basics of their job. Sorry, I don't want to pay for that coke that you never actually brought me, even though I asked you 3 times.
When I get home: Could you stop asking me every 5 minutes if I need anything else? If I need anything else, I will ask. I'm a big girl. Also, I'd really like to enjoy this dinner without feeling rushed out the door.
The Metro: It's dirty. It's crowded. It's hot. Crazies live there.
When I get home: I have to get in my car to drive somewhere, burn my butt and hands from the Arizona heat, park, AND walk to my ultimate destination? Yikes!
Language: It takes mental effort to listen to and speak Spanish. If someone is having a direct conversation with me, I'm able to understand, but otherwise, I'm walking around a world filled with just noise. Talk about a headache!
When I get home: Shoot, you can understand everything I am saying, and vice versa. I am accidentally easedropping on your conversation, instead of being able to zone out to la la land. This is exhausting.
This reads as a lot of whining. But, I think my ultimate point is...the grass isn't always greener on the other side. I love being able to accomplish a lot in a small amount of time, but I also love living without a schedule. Having a car makes me feel more self sufficient. Walking is good exercise. I am an American and darn proud of it. But, if I could take one thing away from this experience and from Barcelona, it's to relax. To appreciate the things that really matter, and the people you love, Cause the rest is just sand...yeah? :) <3
Besos y Abrazos!
My roommate Rebecca, our friend Emily, and I went out for a delicious Chinese dinner last night. I have never eaten so much food at one meal. They had the best Sangria I have tasted in Barcelona, go figure!
On our way back on the metro, the topic of reverse culture shock came up. We all agreed that when we first arrived in Barcelona, we were taken aback by how different it was from home. But, now, after being here for almost three months, it doesn't seem that different anymore.
The things we complain about on a daily basis that we'll actually miss when we're gone...
Pace of life: Everything here is slow. Slow, slow, slow! If you have an appointment with someone, don't be surprised if they show up a half an hour late. Leave your house 10 minutes earlier than you normally would, because you have to dodge in and out of slow walking people on the metro. Allow 1 hour for lunch and 3 hours for dinner. I find myself getting impatient with the lack of urgency.
When I get home: STOP RUSHING ME!! There are plenty of hours in the day, and days in the week. Please, slow life down.
The Food: Blegh. I'm hungry. Sea creatures seem to accidentally show up in a lot of the food here. I want a burger.
When I get home: Holy heck, that's a lot of food. You could feed the hungry of the world with the food I'm going to waste.
Service: Yet again, slow and oftentimes...lacking. Servers here aren't working for tips, so they have no incentive for going above and beyond the basics of their job. Sorry, I don't want to pay for that coke that you never actually brought me, even though I asked you 3 times.
When I get home: Could you stop asking me every 5 minutes if I need anything else? If I need anything else, I will ask. I'm a big girl. Also, I'd really like to enjoy this dinner without feeling rushed out the door.
The Metro: It's dirty. It's crowded. It's hot. Crazies live there.
When I get home: I have to get in my car to drive somewhere, burn my butt and hands from the Arizona heat, park, AND walk to my ultimate destination? Yikes!
Language: It takes mental effort to listen to and speak Spanish. If someone is having a direct conversation with me, I'm able to understand, but otherwise, I'm walking around a world filled with just noise. Talk about a headache!
When I get home: Shoot, you can understand everything I am saying, and vice versa. I am accidentally easedropping on your conversation, instead of being able to zone out to la la land. This is exhausting.
This reads as a lot of whining. But, I think my ultimate point is...the grass isn't always greener on the other side. I love being able to accomplish a lot in a small amount of time, but I also love living without a schedule. Having a car makes me feel more self sufficient. Walking is good exercise. I am an American and darn proud of it. But, if I could take one thing away from this experience and from Barcelona, it's to relax. To appreciate the things that really matter, and the people you love, Cause the rest is just sand...yeah? :) <3
Besos y Abrazos!
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