Hermanas de Todo (Sisters of Everything)

I think it's only appropriate that I dedicate an entire post to the person who has made my time in Spain so authentic. The only person who has the nerve to tell me to "stop being so sensitive and live in the moment" when I get homesick. The person who taught me several songs in Spanish, introduced me to several fantastic people, and welcomed me into her home. I don't have a sister by blood but I can safely say that this type of bond is just as good and just as special. Oh this is Alejaaaaaaaaandra Vega we're talking about (meant to be said in the Lottery voice of Yolannnnnnda Vega).

Alejandra is one of the biggest reasons I'm so eager to return to Spain when I get home. She patiently introduced me to the spanish culture.. translating nearly every line of her favorite TV show, Fisica o Cimica. She taught me the proper way to botellón. She attempted to teach me the Sevillanas (Flamenco Traditional, 4-step dance, specific to Sevilla) She brought my little brother and roommate Liz out for a GREAT time when they came to visit. Pretty impressive since she doesn't speak a word of english and they don't speak spanish.

I hope you can tell by these pictures, and videos below just how special a person she is.. even if you don't understand her. I can't express how "verca" I am for having her in my life. :)

Alejandra, Abuelo and I.... hat fashion show extravaganza

"Cuando una fuma fumamos todos!" Me disapproving of Alejandra's smoking habits!

Us and our most precious puppy. La Gorda, Gordita! :)

This is an interview of Alejandra's boyfriend José that I had to do for a project for school about the sleeping habits of Spain versus the US. This is about Take 29 because we could not stop laughing... mainly thanks to my sister here. The spanish I say is "Voy a matarla." or "I'm going to kill her."

Language Barriers

Since I've been here I've made about the three most embarrassing mistakes in spanish that anyone in my study abroad program has ever made. Here goes.

1) I was sitting at the table, eating an early dinner by myself (since I had work) and skyping with my family. It had only been about 3 weeks, but I was already very close with my host family. I ask my abuela if there is fish in the meal she made and she says no. She starts listing off the ingredients and then says, oh wait, yes, sorry. There is fish in it. "Sabíalo! haha Mentirosa! una broma. Es delicioso. Gracias!" "I knew it! haha Liar! Just kidding, its delicious. Thanks so much."

Then I continued to skype with my family.

The next day my abuelo asked me if I remember Bill Clinton. Um... yes, of course. He lets me know that Bill Clinton was a "mentiroso"... and he was kicked out of office. I explained that I meant no offense, obviously it was a joke... but my abuela had been a bit offended! OH NO!!! I didn't even realize how bad the translation was until I went to see He's Just Not That Into You in spanish.. and they translated "Bullsh*t! You f***ing liar!" as "Mentiroso! Mentiroso!"

OOOOOOOPS.

2) I went on a few dates with a spanish guy. He was very affectionate in his texting but used a lot of slang, so it was hard to keep up. At night I wanted to end our text conversation with "Sweet dreams".. which in spanish is roughly translated as "May you dream with the little angels"or "Que tú sueñes con los anjelitos "..... what I said... was "Que te sueñes con los angelos".... Which means... "May you dream yourself with Los Angeles, CA."

3) The worst and greatest was certainly the explanation of my trip to Portugal to my Abuelo and Alejandra. I was so excited about my trip, which was in mid October and halfway through my trip that I was overconfident about my spanish. When you act like your fluent.. you make a lot of mistakes... but you learn quicker too. I will certainly never make this mistake again.

I said "Mis piernas están adoloridos porque el primero día me monté un toro mecanico y el segundo día, me monté un caballero." For those of you who speak spanish.. I might sound like I am telling my 75 year old grandfather a rather promiscuous story, and trying to give him a heart attack. For those of you who don't... here was the discrepancy.

I wanted to say "I'm so sore because the first day I rode a mechanical bull and the second I rode a horse!" The word for horse however, is caballo... easily confused with caballero.. which happens to mean gentleman. So you can understand why my host sisters jaw dropped and my Abuelo suddenly pretended to be hard of hearing when I preceded to tell them all about how I even rode the "gentleman" into the bar and everyone was cheering. Or about how riding the "gentleman" was the cherry on a perfect weekend.

OOPS!

The rollercoaster

So when you are learning another language, in the immersion sort of way, you go through a weird roller-coaster cycle.

1) At first. Overwhelmed.

2) Then you compare yourself to your other american friends that know very little and gain confidence.

3) Then you make friends in that country... oops, your spanish is like a 2 year old's in comparison to them.

4) The 3 week mark. You get some routine conversation down. The quickness of your responses make you feel fluent. Confidence again.

5) You become frustrated when you don't know every word.

6)Every other day you feel fluent and infantile. Will I everrrr get fluent?

"Me and myyy horsee are lookin for a parrrtayyy" -Headless Horseman, Portugal

It's been a tough battle, but this three day weekend (Colombus Day Weekend) could have been the best weekend of my trip so far. Here's a summary. I got on the bus to Portugal for my first trip working for We Love Spain. Okay, by work I mean hand out hotel keys and help take the group of foreign students from one beach to another or one bar to another. Really grueling stuff.
The first day we spent on Tavira Island. A really beautiful, low-key spot you have to take a ferry to. I ate all three of the sandwiches that Abuelo packed for me on day one. (Sandwich 1: Jamon on white bread Sandwich 2: Queso on white bread Sandwich 3: Jamon y queso on white bread... I will never get it) We arrived at our incredible hotel that had a balcony, kitchen and our own king-size beds. Although it was fun to re-enact that scene in Pretty Woman where she runs and jumps on the hotel bed.. a few times.. we didn't spend too much time at the hotel. The 40 or so of us hit the town of Albufiera until approximately 3 am, during which my friends Luke, Kylie and I all rode a mechanical bull and ate the BEST hotdog I've ever had in my life. And I'm from New York...whoever spread that NYC best hotdog rumor has never been to Albufiera, Portugal.
The second day we went to another amazing beach, completely different with cliffs and bluer water. I've been to about 100 beaches and this was hands down the most breathtaking and entertaining. We hiked and swam through caves and climbed and dove and dodged rising tides and sank our toes into the sand. Oh did I mention its almost November!???? I love Portugal.
That night we went to Lagos and went on a bar crawl, which I was supposed to help lead from Johno's Bar where we all got Free Hugs from the 6 bartenders, all of whom were from either England or Australia (random) to...okay well I took a detour. Oops. Now put yourself in my position for a second... if you saw this, what would you do.
I come across a man dressed head to toe in a circus lion tamer outfit. Top hat. Jacket with tailcoats. Frilly white button-down. Suspenders. Red ribbon. Tight pants. Boots. He is drunkenly stumbling down the street, pulling a gorgeous white horse and yelling in every language he can think of (about 4 or 5) "Me and mahhhh horuss arr loookin for a paaaaaaarrrrtaaay"
Alright, I obviously approached him. "Excuse me, kind sir! May I please ride your horse?" He responds, "Of course!".. I immediately hand my drink, bag, and map to the bar to a random girl on the trip (who ended up documenting my entire experience) and get on the gorgeous horse that should belong to the Pumpkin carriage for Cinderella. He gives me the reigns and his tophat(which probably wouldn't have happened if both of us hadn't had a few drinks) and lets me ride THROUGH THE STREETS of the tourist city Lagos, at 1:30 in the morning. Finally he catches up to me and says that I have to come into this bar, and although I had just had the most exhilarating 5 minutes of my life, thought I should probably get back to my job. He said "Just 1 minute" and led the horse right through the door of the bar. "Ummm...are you sure this is okay?" Too late. Inside the bar. Bouncer laughing. People cheering. Me very confused... oh well! If you can't beat 'em join 'em! After a minute or so we walked back towards the bar my group was at where my boss was gasping for air saying that she heard rumors I was kidnapped by a headless horseman. After I explained she laughed and we both invited the man in to the bar with us... showing him and his horse "where the party was at."
The horseman (probably about 65) turned out to be one of the funniest characters I've ever come across. Turns out he did not work for a circus, but rather received a DWI and had his license taken away. So this horse and get-up was his way of turning his lack of mobile transportation into a good time. SUCCESS. hahahaha He was the hit of our trip. He let everyone wear his jacket and tophat and take pictures with him, dancing. Needless to say, this spur of the moment decision ended up making my weekend, and entire semester. Here are some pics.

Kreestofehr Colombo!!!

Just to preface, I started writing in a journal, so these entrees are all from mid-october on.

It was a three day trip, since we had off of school this monday. When I asked my abuelo what holiday we were observing he looked at me astounded. (I've come to the conclusion that my laid back sense of humor is what will prevent me from ever succeeding in politics... I just think being politically correct is a form of appeasing a child) No has oido de KREESTOFEHR COLOMBO!?? (You've never heard of Christopher Colombus!!?)

I mean obviously I know who Christopher Colombus was but I was among 27 of the 29 students in my program who didn't know that Spain also celebrated Colombus day. Why? Well, because although Mister Colombus was Italian, his trip to the New World was funded by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain. He is buried in the Cathedral in Sevilla and if you ever go there, don't act surprised. They are VERY proud of it!