No te preocupes

Well, yesterday I had shark for dinner and I decided it's time for another blog post. I have no excuses for how long it's taken for a second post, except that it's really hot here and when I have nothing to do it's hard not to lay around, fan myself, and eat watermelon. Typing is, like, a lot of work.
Also a lot of work: figuring out exactly what I am eating for dinner each day. Usually I just roll with it, but as some of you may know, I'm not a huge fan of seafood. Since I've been here, I've had an "I'll try anything once" policy, and it's been going pretty well. I've eaten copious amounts of seafood--from clams, to seafood paella, to tiny grey fish with their eyes still in them. Surprisingly, the only thing I haven't liked was part of a pig: "oreja." Or pig ear. So we'll leave it at that. And yes, that means I actually liked shark meat. I had seen the filets in the fridge earlier in the day, and they looked suspiciously like the shark meat I had seen, and snapchatted, in the grocery store. So when we sat down for dinner, I asked "What kind of fish is this?" They weren't sure of the English word, but thought it was swordfish. I realized I was going to eat it either way, so I shrugged and dove in. It tasted like chicken that had been marinated in the ocean and then cooked. Halfway through, they asked if I knew the Spanish word "tiburón" because that's what it was. Obviously, that word means shark. At first, I was VERY taken aback, even though I had subconsciously known. And they all thought it was hilarious. Then, the 8 year old looked at me and said "We are teaching you Spanish and about good food" ...rude.
In other news, it's been a month today since I've been in Spain! A lot has changed since my last post. I still haven't been pick-pocketed but I have witnessed it. I was getting on the metro and this guy next to me honestly looked like he was wearing a dumb tourist costume. A Hawaiian shirt, bucket hat, cargo shorts, 3 maps, and a suitcase kind of screams "pick-pocket me" (also screams tropical island, so that was a poor outfit choice for Madrid, which is landlocked). We were both boarding the train and I felt someone pushing me. I calmly held onto my purse and moved forward. To my left, Hawaiian shirt guy threw his maps in the air (oh no!) and started yelling some stuff in Spanish. At this point the doors had closed, and the entire car was staring at him and this small, 20-something would-be pick-pocket, who was blubbering about how Hawaiian shirt guy still had his wallet with everything in it, didn't he? Being stuck in a metro car with as many people that can fit is already uncomfortable. Being stuck in a metro car with as many people that can fit, standing next to angry Hawaiian shirt guy, watching would-be pick-pocket scramble to cover his ass, and feeling everyone else's eyes on this situation is indescribably uncomfortable. You can imagine my awkward giggling did not help. However, I guess I don't come across as foreign anymore (until I start talking). People have asked me for directions or help with the metro lines, but we'll never forget my humble beginnings when I didn't know how to grocery shop in Spain.
Since my last post, I've travelled to Sevilla and Segovia. I went to Sevilla the second weekend I was here with my friend Emily, another conversation coach. It was a great trip. We stayed in an amazing hostel; it was very clean, it was centrally located, and the staff was really friendly and cool. They had free dinners and free pub crawls every night for anyone that wanted to join. I'll attach some pictures of Sevilla, it's a beautiful city, but my favorite part about the trip was at Carbonería. It was our first stop on the pub crawl one night. This bar was a little hard to find, located on a back road away from the center. Inside, it was teeming with locals waiting expectantly anywhere they could find a spot. There were people on all the benches, on the floor, on the window sills. We got a drink and luckily found a good spot right behind the cleared space where a guitar player, a few singers, and a dancer sat waiting for silence. It was a free flamenco show. I had paid to see one in Madrid, but this show did not even compare. It was way more heartfelt. The crowd was mostly made up of young people, enjoying this tradition and showing pride in their culture. It was something you would probably never see in the states or read about in a tourism pamphlet (so if you ever go to Sevilla, you should go here). The next weekend, I stayed to hang out with my host family, and we went to Segovia for a day-trip. It's also a beautiful city, it's main attraction being the Acueducto (I'll attach a picture). This thing was built without cement which I just don't understand at all. On this trip, we also took a tour of the castle that's there (there's a castle and a church literally everywhere - I can't keep their names straight), but we took it in Spanish. I have probably never been so tired, ever. My brain was so dead after that trip, but it was really cool to go there with my host family.
That following week, Olivia came to visit!! We stayed in a hotel in the center of Madrid (thanks Gary) and did most of the classic tourist things: Plaza Mayor, El Palacio Real, Mercado de San Miguel, and el Retiro. One of her friends had suggested a restaurant, Ojalá, which kicked off our time together. In order to explain Olivia's visit, it has to be said: the hotter it gets, the less people give a sh*t here. ("I'm not driving to work in Madrid today, it's too hot." "Let's go to the pool now, and we'll have dinner once the sun goes down." "You have a train to catch? Well, take your time, don't run in this heat." etc. etc. etc. It can be summed up as: "No te preocupes" or "Don't worry.") Hence, I missed the bus I was going to take in order to be early to get her at the airport. In the end, I would have gotten there on time anyways, had my bus not been behind schedule and had my bus driver not stopped for a cigarette (this has happened to me twice?). I am always late, and Spain is literally encouraging me to continue this behavior. Anyways, once I got there I couldn't get my wifi to work, but finally found her, about to have a panic attack, 30 minutes late. We made our way to our hotel and then finally rolled into Ojalá 20 minutes late for our reservation. No te preocupes, they said, and sat us downstairs in the beach section. They have sand in the basement and call it "la playa." We ordered a pitcher of sangria, and that's as far as I'm going with the rest of Olivia's visit. :)
Coming up, I have trips planned to Valencia, Granada, and Barcelona. You can expect a Valencia post next week! Con cariño ~~~ Sophia

 Sevilla from Las Setas

 View from our hostel

 Plaza España

 Alcázar

 Segovia

 Acueducto

 Livvy

Mercado de San Miguel

Lol, I'm so foreign.

I’ve been in Spain for about 5 days now and so far so good. I’m still alive, still my tantalizing self, still haven’t been pick-pocketed. A few things have changed, however: 

1. I think I may be beginning to like kids as I find myself becoming inexplicably obsessed with my little niños. Eva turns 11 today. She is very outgoing and smart. The first day I got here, she immediately started talking my ear off. Within an hour I had braided her hair in pigtails, just like mine and she was teaching me how to play chess (fun fact: I was forced to be in chess club in third grade and experienced extreme PTSD on top of my jet-lag). Victor, who is 8, was a little shy at first but quietly stood over my shoulder and nudged my chess pieces when I needed help. Since then, Victor has warmed up to me and shown me how funny and light-hearted he is. Eva, since she is an 11 year old girl, has an attitude from time to time and when this happens Victor thinks it’s the funniest thing ever. Which in turn, I think is the funniest thing ever. They are a handful but are fun to talk to. They’re very curious about English, America, and my life and help me with Spanish all the time (Victor makes fun of me for not being able to roll my R’s every single day but we’re working on it). 
2. My Spanish has improved drastically in the past few days. My host parents are just as awesome as their kids. Albertina, my host mom, picked me up from the airport and began speaking in Spanish right away. This is to be expected as she speaks limited English, but I speak limited Spanish. It’s been interesting but my Spanish has improved so much. Oscar, my host dad, doesn’t speak any English and is also a little hard for me to understand in Spanish but they are both completely understanding and helpful. They are very open and warm people and I am beginning to be able to hold longer conversations in Spanish with them without the kids’ help. My brain is definitely adapting to Spanish 24/7, but sometimes in the afternoon it’s like, “shit, more Spanish?” so thank god for siestas. 
3. I AM SO FOREIGN. I’ve never really felt out of place with my host family. I sort of just got here and didn’t feel weird about it. Sure, some of the food is different but first, it’s amazing and second, different regions of the US have different foods, too. The other blaring difference is their general schedule. For example, over the weekend we got up around 9 or 10, had a coffee, and ate breakfast around 10 or 11 am. We didn’t eat lunch until around 2 or 3, but it was the biggest meal of the day. Then, we would chill for a little bit and take a siesta at some point between lunch and dinner which was usually around 10 pm. I spent the entire weekend with my host family, but when Monday rolled around they had work and school. I slept in late, researched some places I might want to visit, got ready, and went out into Alcala de Henares, España by my young and naive self. The store is really close so I sauntered right in and beelined to the toiletry section. I needed shampoo, etc. It took me a fair amount of time to find the stuff I usually use and I took it to the register a little nervous I wouldn’t be able to use my credit card. The cashier started talking to me and I was clearly just so foreign. It’s way harder to understand random people because they don’t realize that I’m learning and don’t talk a little slower for me. I fumbled through that experience and took my stuff. Without a bag. Because she didn’t give me one. I then went to the ATM inside the store just carrying all of my stuff in my arms, dropping two things on my way. At this point, I’m almost sweating, like “OMG everyone knows I’m foreign.” I take about 15 minutes trying to figure out whether I want the ATM to convert the charge for the bank or leave it as dollars on the statement. Still don’t know the correct answer to this dilemma, lmk if you do. Anyways, I finally get cash in the form of a 50 euro bill (I have no idea how to word that correctly). I realize I don’t want to walk back home with all of my stuff dropping out of my arms every five seconds so I stop and ask an employee for a bag. He gave me one and I start walking away, awkwardly trying to dump my things in on the way. This guy starts yelling in Spanish and I turn around and realize I have to pay for the freaking plastic bag. Bare in mind this guy was actually really attractive and I’m just displaying my foreigness in all it’s glory as I stammer something in Spanish about not knowing I had to pay for a bag. I only have a €50 bill, so I hand him it. He starts laughing and ushers me to a self-pay kiosk, where he types in “1 bolsa”…. The thing was €0.05. I needed change anyways so I took this as the universe helping me out in a really twisted way. I left immediately after that, half laughing at myself and half trying not to think about that experience ever again (good thing I’m sitting here writing about it).

Overall though, it’s been a really good experience and I am excited to discover more about Spain through new people and new cities. Con cariño ~~~ Sophia