Last night a group mixture of Dutch, English, German, Danish, and I went to Roxy 99. It’s okay to say that it was a pretty western place. This has been my first real night outing here other than a drink or so somewhere in the evening. Before we entered they checked my ID and scanned my forehead to read my temperature for the H1N1 Swine. For some reason this is hilarious to me–they do it everywhere. At least 15% of the people here wear doctor masks, and someone got the idea to print cool designs on the masks and now they are mass produced in plaid, polka dots, stripes, etc. I feel like a lab rat but Im starting to like knowing I’m not sick and no one around me is. Taiwan, you’re so smart!

So anyways, cool venue, and yeah, all western music– Lady Gaga, Michael J, Katy Perry, etc, and I was corrected for saying “American music” by the English because they played one Oasis song.

Alcohol is expensive here, around 200$NTD per drink, which I had crossed my fingers to be half that when I got here. I mean 6 dollars, you won’t break your bank account but after eating a whole meal for 50$NTD’s i did get excited.

The bar scene was all Asian women with all European men. You will see Euro men with Asian women, Euro men with Euro women, but you will never see Euro women with Asian men.

Anyways, hurting today. Realizing that since I am drinking and eating less here, it is probably a good thing to continue to drink and eat less here.

Roxy wooooooweeeee Tawain hott spot!!!! ow ow i found these classic photos online:

see what I mean?

Check. Credit Cards and phone have been restored. Still searching for a nice wallet though. Nothing will replace my cheap metal cigarette holder and it’s black snake-skin cover that barely heald my cards and cash.. sigh..missing you. Trying to describe that while filing a police report was entirely too exhausting.

A few things to report back to my mother country about–

1. Grapple with my new Spanish Friend
7:00 a.m., just getting back to the house, after a night of Puerto Ricans + Spaniard +yo , loud voices, photographs and calimochos…. He refers to himself as “No soy español. Soy Europeo.” It first appeared to me that he might be on crack cocaine. But it came to be that he’s just a jack in the box. Haha, impressive…BLAH! Just like that. He’s really odd. From the time I met him, he seems to just run through life without thought or ties, and seems to be in the same sort of identity crisis as myself–an attraction to individuals that are not from my own country. He just quit his job last night and now wants to move to Hawaii. Do you understand the picture I am trying to paint here?

Our fight took place in the middle of the streets, the night before my life was stolen. My spanish is so much better when I am yelling. Still trying to figure out why. However, some of the time I felt that there was so much more to say, and my mouth couldn’t speak as fast as my mind was thinking. I hate that. It was because of language of course. I’m right on cue in english, let’s not be misunderstood.

My perceptions of spaniards changed dramatically on this night. A lot was to be learned. After describing the pains of loneliness, and dramatically emphasizing how evil Madrileños are and it’s alienating affects it played on my abroad experience, I have realized how many horrible stereotypes I have created in my head. He, of course, was feeding it right back to me, describing how Americans act the same way here (which I won, due to the fact that I travelled to Spain alone without the American-alienating-comfort/support-group program..If that is offensive to those in American programs I do apologize) , begging for me to understand that spaniards are not this way, and fighting for me to discover that I am not alone. At the beginning, I simply figured, oh, well we just met. He has no idea. We spit fire at each other for two hours, feeding off of the stereotypes of our cultures. As the Spanish/American bloodbath was dying down both started to realize that in all ways possible, neither one of us fit our cultural stereotypes at all. Once we came to this conclusion, we sat down on the steps and decided an appropriate time to take a walk the next day because it was 9 in the morning. Later I found that he went to another bar, met people there, and partied until 12 in the afternoon. Haha, I love it!

Back to my stereotype issue. I think that it was developed, of course, before I came to Spain. I had heard that it would be difficult to make friends here, and when someone was unfriendly to me, I tended to blame it on the whole, on the people of Madrid. I’m really over my expectations and assumptions. The second I came to this understanding was when I really started enjoying everything with an open heart.

2. That was long, let’s get the ball rolling…Crazy Universidad Autonoma de Madrid.

My university is currently having another protest. I’m sure I told you the one before about the cleaning workers on strike? The students took it upon themselves to partake, by shredding newspapers, and throwing cafeteria food all through the halls of the philosophy department. I actually saw a kid finish his lunch and turn his tray of leftovers upside down in the middle of the hall. It wasn’t cleaned for a week and a half.

Last week and this week, there is a protest for Becas, or scholarship funding. Apparently the university is not funding enough money for their 350 euro/semestre tuition. There are spray paintings all over the grounds, tents pitched outside on the quad, and signs hung from every tree, hall, and staircase. I laugh every time I walk by it as I think to myself, if you knew what I pay every year you wouldn’t complain. Although the euro is pulverizing the dollar, i believe 47,000 per year will still win. Then again, I’m not proud of that either and wish to camp out at AU upon my return.

3. Club in the Train Station?

Yes. Atocha train station features a night club named “Ananda” and it was a force to be reckoned with. One room was veiled in all white surroundings. Completely spotless and so ‘au courant’. hahaha. It started filling at around 3 a.m. The music was latin and I about died and went to heaven. Typical.

The other room had this deep maroon glow going on, with ridiculously detailed chandelier swirls coming down from the ceiling. My good friend and I found the air conditioning vent and had a dance party. We laughed, thinking, why is there no one else around us here? This is a great spot! It was probably because they couldn’t compete with our sick dance moves. Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it was.

Another good thing to mention is that before we went there, we had dinner at La Casa de Tortilla, where you pay 12 euros, and receive an all you can eat and drink supply of beer, sangria, and tapas…..hence great dance moves?

4. Restaurante Alquimista Bar desconocido and Jazz
In Bilbao, Restaurante Alquimista was the place where we bought a flower pot of sangria. A great place to start, or end, depending on how much of it you drink. Haha.. I started there, but should have ended there. Afterwards, a large pack of us wandered to a bar, which was interesting. Plastered all over the walls were large posters of jimmy hendrix, bob marley, and other classics. That night, I met some very wonderful people, mainly students from Georgetown. I’d like to think that many of the friendships I have made here in Spain will spill over into the district when I come home.

Jazz…. Ah jazzzzzz. Finally! A jazz venue. I’ve been dying to find one for such a long time here in Madrid. This particular night featured a typical band of a bass, guitar, drums, and sax– but the music was outstanding. My friend and I made ourselves believe that we actually saw the sound coming out of the sax. “What color was the sound?” “I think it was purple.” I can’t decide whether it was because I was just in heaven for the fact that I found it, or because I was in excellent company, or if it was that the sound was actually of great quality. I can’t really tell with jazz. The instruments are such a compilation of off-beat cacaphonies that it’s hard to really know if it was on purpose or there was fault. Especially in the change of lead instrument. I’m going to think that it was meant to be that way. Besides, that’s how I think about everything in general.

5. REAL MADRID V. BARCELONA.

I’m going to start this off with a frown because yes, everyone knows, Barcelona lost…4-0. … It was a sad, sad day for Barcelona and the heavens cried. Rain, everywhere. I had to hide my sadness on the inside and cry silently. Madrileños certainly went out of their way to rub it in every fan’s face. The stadium consumed thousands and thousands of people. Before the game, everyone was running spittlingly drunk and lighting bonfires in the middle of the streets. Covered in purple, in white, in flags, bandanas, face paint, …and annoying noise clappers–i’ve never seen anything like it. They screamed curses and insults as barça came through the crowded zealots. They waved flags and banners that denounced the catalanes. Much of the fanatical tension between the two is based on political reasons, if you weren’t aware. A ticket three weeks ago would have cost me over 500 euros so that just didn’t happen. I should have planned things out better and bought one months ago. I did, roam the stadium for an hour and try to steal a madrid fan’s ticket. I just wanted to snatch it and run wild, screaming, YEA MADRID THAT’S WHAT YOU GET! HIJO DE PUTA! BAHAHAHA!

Nonetheless, my crazy spanish friend Nico, in number 1… apologies for not introducing his name, went with me to a bar about 50 feet from the stadium to watch the game there. It was packed tight of Real fans but I live here so there isn’t much I can do. The bartender had a crush on me and gave me three glasses of wine for free.. haha.. Nico left early and I finished watching the game. While suffering the painful loss, I met a large group of spaniards there, and they asked me to join them in going to a different place around the area. So all of us left and went to an Irish pub close to my apartment and enjoyed the rest of the night there! Lo pasamos muy bien, son de buena gente y muy geniales!

Today I had classes which punished me for staying out so late. But it was the GAME OF THE YEAR. Much more important than an introduction to the international society with my merciless, and ironically insensitive-to-intenational-students professor that was blabbing this morning.

I’m trying to think of other exciting events that happened this weekend, but this blog has already gotten to novel lengths, and I wouldn’t want you to lose interest in my amount of words. Hopefully you at least read one of my numbers.

I did have some excellent bus thoughts today, most of them about this book I am reading called “The Bridge of San Luis Rey” by Thorten Wilder. Incredible.
One of my favorite quotes:
“The Archbishop knew that most of the priests of Peru were scoundrels…He had to repeat over to himself his favorite notions; that the injustice and unhappiness in the world is a constant; that the theory of progress is a delusion; that the poor, never having known happiness, are insensible to misfortune.”

FIfteen minutes of the bus is such an exercise to my mind.

hasta luego

que bonita

catedral de salamanca

mejoras

harlem jazz club!

the view from danielas window

gaudi!

Y la noche va,
Dejandonos solos
Y cada mitad se acerca a su modo
Y dicen las calles, de tu Barcelona
Que la Noche es nuestra
Que la Nit es nostra

La vieja Ciudad, Vestida de luces
De espuma de mar, De amores y cruces
Y yo solo pido que nunca amanezca,
Que la noche es nuestra,
Que la nit es nostra
Que la Nit es nostra
-Bacilos, “Barcelona”

Barcelona, the land of Catalan, my best friend, FCB, espadrillos, art, history, beach, love, music….. Oh, the nights were just about to begin, the days only numbered 4, but something magical about the city never faltered. My love for Barcelona before even seeing it, was something that made this trip so spectacular. When I arrived to the city, I was truly happy. Perhaps it was the Gothic area, it’s cathedrals, lights, small streets and hammered youth, or the Gaudi building across from my friend’s apartment in Plaza de Gracia…Which looked more like a Candyland house than building, or maybe the fact that I was finally with my best friend, after more than 8 months of not living together… Whatever it was, just being there, watching the life of it all pass by me, meant more to me than what most trips could offer. The challenge of Madrid faded away, because this city became my familiar, what I had imagined it to be. If AU had a program in Barcelona, I would be the most content student in this country, and my own.
First day, Thursday, we slept for most of the early afternoon because I had a 6:00 am flight that I stayed up all night for. It showed. So we woke up later, and the first thing we did was have Chai tea and talk about us. When with friends, first things are first, and no matter where you are. There is always time. Afterwards, we got dressed, and went down to the Gothic area, and had an amazing dinner, all tapas, a bottle of red wine, and we talked about why we didn’t have boyfriends. Typical of us. The menus are all in Catalan, which is a completely different dialect. I can’t even begin to read it, or pronounce it. But we managed, somehow, to pick out some amazing dishes. If I could remember all of the food I ate now, I would write it down, but all you really need to know is that you better eat tapas in Barcelona or you shouldn’t be there. And after a bottle of wine, we were feeling pretty, oh, well pretty happy… After that we went to Harlem Jazz Club. It’s a dark underground bar with live jazz. Incredible.

That night right after leaving, we were mugged. A guy came up to us while we were laughing, grabbed my friends face and started touching her. I thought we had sent wrong signals at first, because it’s known here for guys to be very touchy. No. He was grabbing her, and she wasn’t even aware it was happening right away. I started punching him and yelling, until he finally let go of her and ran away. Next thing we know he had opened her purse and had stolen all of her credit cards, id’s, phone, and 60 euros. It was terrible. We ran to the police but there was nothing we could do except file a report. He was gone. We took steps that night and the next day so she could cancel her credit cards, phone, and have an emergency withdrawal, but it was a disaster. We learned a hard lesson. But we were safe, and that was really important.

Despite the fact that we got mugged, we had the most amazing times. The Sangria, amazing tapas, music, dancing, taking photos and videos, meeting new people, wearing flowers in our hair, and seeing beautiful sites. We went back to the jazz place sunday night and heard the best jazz I ever have in my life. I met up with another friend one night too, and met a bunch of new friends, etc. I bought new shoes, and got to watch Barcelona win a game in a bar full of fans. Everything I wanted to do happened!

I missed my flight on the way home. I got there a half an hour early and they told me the gate was closed because i wasn’t 40 minutes early. Never use the company vueling. They are assholes. I had to buy another 60 euro flight home. It was entirely too expensive of a weekend. I don’t even want to look at my bank account.

I got home and slept the entire day. I was so sick. Surprise surprise! I missed my classes, and could barely make it through ones on tuesday. My friend was emailing me saying, I can’t move. I just threw up… What a mess. Refuse to go to those lengths again.

I’m back in Madrid, getting by. I miss Barcelona, miss daniela, and I miss home. I like Madrid, and yesterday I went to Salamanca, a two hour bus ride from the city. I went with some students from other programs through AU, and the city is of course, beautiful. There is so much history in Salamanca. It has the oldest university in Spain there, and the whole town is basically a university campus. All of the writings on the building are in latin, and every inch of the buildings has been carved to a mastered art of perfection. I loved the views, and there is a river at the bottom running alongside the city. It’s trips like these that show you the real spain, and all of the possibilities of mankind to create what I’ve just seen. I’m just indulging in it, and my spanish is developing well. I am understanding it more and more every day, and I’m forgetting that I’m even understanding it better. Sometimes when I hear people speaking in english, I don’t even register yet that they are speaking my language. Language is such a mixed blur right now, and I absolutely love it.