Monday May 24, 2010
Getting up at 3:00 am to catch a flight was a bitch. It’s funny. Because it was earlier than when we turned in during the previous nights. I ended up hurrying to the bus stop outside of the campsite to wait in the pitch-dark bus stop on the side of the highway. When I saw the bus coming in the distance, I waved at it with my flashlight, hoping to get the bus driver’s attention. Apparently, that didn’t work so well, because it didn’t slow down as it approached the stop. So I had to wave my arms wildly in its headlights like a wild goose as it passed me. And it finally stopped twenty meters away. Thank god. If I had missed that last night bus going into Barcelona (an hour away by bus from Mataró), I would’ve been screwed for my 9:30 flight out.
BCN:
I felt very scrubby, wearing my dark blue skinny jeans and my forest-green STEP hoodie on the plane. Apparently, people dress up for European flights? Most women were quite stylish and wore heels. One girl looked fab with her Enid Coleslaw glasses and European scarf. Most men wore suites. It was a domestic flight though, so perhaps they were going/coming back to Madrid for business, or they just like being fancy J.
MAD:
I arrived in Madrid an hour before we were supposed to meet with IES (the program that I’m doing here) after sleeping through my entire flight (think: falling asleep as the cabin doors were closing in Barcelona and waking up as pilot announced local weather in Madrid). When I came out of the arrival gate with my check-in suitcase and backpack carryon, I happened upon a lady with a binder and correctly guessed that she was from IES. The IES lady called over a small lady (probably measuring around 5 foot or a little under) and introduced her as Carmen, mi señora. Super friendly and motherly, Carmen looks in her late forties, has light hazel eyes, light brown almost reddish hair, and an average body type. She kissed me on both cheeks and immediately took me under her arm to lead me to the taxis parked outside. What a shock to dive in to speaking Spanish right away. Carmen doesn’t know English and only knows phrases from movies or from the TV. So I can no longer say, “¿Como se dice...?” whenever I don’t know how to say something in Spanish, which is so different from Spanish class.
After giving me a sort of tour of which bus to take and how to go to La Universidad Complutense/Centre de iES, Carmen took me to her home and gave me a grand tour of her medium-sized apartment. She also introduced me to her amarido, Miguel, and her daughter, Celia. A grey-hair retiree, Miguel looks about mid-sixties, stands about 5’ 5”, has a pot belly, and as far as I can tell, likes wearing checkered shirts. Very pale with long and straight blonde hair, Cellia, is fifteen, is a little less than 5’, has light-blue eyes and a ballet body with long thin limbs.
I guess their four-bedroom apartment is very average in size. It has a great view of el Parque del Oeste from the front. Then the rear opens up to a courtyard, facing other apartments. Carmen usually hosts two students, but this year, she’s only hosting me. So my bedroom light-blue-and-white themed room has a bunk bed. I also have my own beautiful bathroom complete with a bide. The only thing that intimidates me is the super neatness of the house. I’m supposed to keep my room tidy, which I do. But sometimes when I get home, I find that my señora has straightened up the things on my desk. Am I supposed to keep everything militaristically lined up with not one thing out-of-place? She also sometimes remakes my bed... maybe it’s not tucked in tight enough for her…
Carmen walked me to the nearest metro stop, Príncipe Pío, an old train station converted into a metro stop/shopping mall. It’s a weird juxtaposition of the old and new. At Príncipe Pío, I met and walked around with two other IES students who live by me: Lauren, a white and tall dirty blonde from University of Chapel Hill, and Selena, a short wavy-haired Asian from Cornell. Both of them were pretty confused about what was going on and dazed that they were in Madrid. I’d have to admit: my señora’s the best out of all the señoras, because she explained things so clearly that I already knew how to take the bus, the metro, and so on. Yay for good housing placement!
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