Welcome to Spain, hopefully once I calm down a little the blog posts will shorten. Till then:
Day -1: Saturday Jan 12.
Saturday was packing HELL. I spent all day loading stuff into my two suitcases and compulsively weighing it. I also, under the stress of packing, kept snubbing my mother. She responded by continuing to give me my space, while periodically offering me food and assistance. Finally, we ate a lovely family dinner before I went back and continued removing things from my suitcases until past ten o'clock. There was crying, and my father was kind and sympathetic, a recurring theme, it seems.
Also, when I went to print my boarding pass, I decided to look over the list of people who would be on the Azahar 2-week seminar class/tour around Spain with me. This was not a published list, but the "to" section of an email, with the list of recipient addresses. Syracuse email addresses appeared as names but since there several students from other schools were joining us, a few of the email addresses were written out. One was a Macalester College address, which I got excited about because that is where my brother, Malcolm, goes to school. I called Malcolm to see if he knew the person, he did not.
Day 0: Sunday the 13th
I woke up, relatively late (10:30 am) and immediately went to make biscuits. I thought I needed to take full advantage of my last chance to cook before departing. We ate breakfast, and my parents convinced me to email the Mac student. I did so, and received a nice response from the boy, Peter. I finished shoving things into my various carry-ons, and we were out the door by 1:30 pm, only half an hour later than our set goal.
We made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, and found the SU Abroad group easily in the small terminal. There was an altercation in the baggage check line, as a woman and her family cut the line, and my mother along with an angry Columbian father yelled at both the line attendant and the woman, who went into angry suburban mom mode and retaliated by claiming she would have moved if addressed nicely. Unlikely, lady.
In line directly in front of me was a girl with SU Abroad, Benewaa, who would be on my seminar. As I checked in I met a boy named Jason, whose name had been incorrectly printed onto his boarding pass.
I chose to go through security right then to allow maximum reading and meeting people time, and my mother immediately began to cry, wish me well, and assure me they were tears of joy. I then proceeded through the security line, only to be surprise attacked by my father and his mobile phone camera as I handed my passport to the TSA agent. Needless to say, the man was not amused, and declared that you may not take pictures of TSA agents. Nice one, dad, good start to the trip.
While sitting at the gate waiting, I met two girls, Juliana [who would be on my seminar] and Flouri (I think I botched that spelling). I also met two girls whose names I cannot remember. There was also a silent boy sitting across from me, who did not join the introduction conversation at all, and did not make a peep except to ask someone to watch his bag, and later to offer his seat to a woman who was assisting her mother. As I boarded the flight, I ran into Peter from Macalester and we chatted while waiting on the jet-bridge.
On the flight I sat next to a girl named Julia. She was setting out for a program in Seville. I don't expect our paths to cross again, but you never know. The flight was pretty uneventful, I read and attempted, largely unsuccessfully, to sleep. I also thought extensively about how I did not yet know anyone, and had no idea what to expect upon arrival. I know all that will change quickly, but it is interesting to look around, and realize that these people will not be strangers for much longer.
Additionally, I think it is worth noting that while serving dinner, one of the flight attendants walked through the aisles of the plane shouting, with an inflection of urgency, "más pan" while carrying a very full tray of rolls. I don't know why, but something in her voice made it hilarious. Maybe you had to be there.
Day 1: TODAY!
We landed, and didn't have to do anything complicated with customs. We simply showed our passports and were on our way. The group of 55 (or so) students shuttled from passport-check to baggage claim, all wrestled to get our bags on a truck to the madrid center, and then loaded onto busses to our respective seminars. My seminar, Azahar, was set to Toledo [hence the ingenious facebook status, turned blog post title].
While in the airport, I met up with Peter, and we followed quiet guy from JFK, who I finally learned was named Sage. Juliana also caught up with us. On the bus, I met Mike, Molly, and Natalie, periodically joining their conversation and then zoning out for the duration of the hour drive to Toledo. I also chose to room with the girls seated behind me, Benewaa [the girl from the JFK Iberia line] and Rayna.
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| The roommates in our Alfonzo-VI room, with the lovely painting, and my scarf hand-knit by Mel P. |
We ventured up to the front desk for a wifi code and figured out how to make a call home for free using the Magic Jack app on the iPhone. We eventually heard a knock on our door at 5:30 pm, and a rumor of a 6 pm meeting. Then, as we tried to unlock the door to leave the hotel room, we were unable to get the key to turn in the lock. It was scary, and when we called the front desk for help the yelled through the door, not understanding. Finally two men from the front desk used the extra key to open the door from the outside, and showed us how the deadbolt worked. Thanks señiors, we know how locks work, it was legit stuck.
The past 24 hours have been so intense, and JFK seems a lifetime away. However, someone on the bus was reflecting on how quickly this semester will past, and I am sure that it is true. I may have no friends, and speak next to no Spanish, but hopefully in four months I will be enjoying myself, and finishing up an amazing abroad experience. Benwaa, Rayna and I walked through our little corner of Toledo, and looked in a few shops. The people seem nice, and the city is lovely and covered in cobblestone. Even the McDonald's looked European.
The final note I'll end on is that I think everything will be okay. This seems like a "well, duh" kind of sentiment, but really. I am not the only one who speaks no Spanish, and while people are forming clicks, everyone seems friendly enough, and willing to allow me to awkwardly insert myself into their conversations. I may not be comfortable, but I seem to lack the completely-confused feeling which other students have expressed.
I may not be going out with the group at midnight, but I don't feel the need to. I will read, and sleep, and everything will be okay... like, duh.
Glad your dad didn't need bail money! Equally glad there were some kind Spanish señors to teach you how locks work. I miss you more than you know!!! Much love.
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