One Month

Well dang, I've been here for almost a month now. At this point in my last Spanish adventure, we were packing our bags and leaving. But this time, the party has just begun. God only knows what adventures await me.

Speaking of adventures and party, I swear we do more here than just enjoy the nightlife. There's so much to see. Por ejemplo, we visited the beach today in Nerja. I swam in the sea, in January. Do you know how cool that is?

It wasn't even that cold!

Other small things I've been noticing as I've been assimilating to life here in Spain.
1) I underestimated the amount of importance lunch holds. My mom had to go to the hospital, but she made me eat my lunch as she was being taken in the ambulance. Like, legitimately yelled at me. -_-
2) Tourism is a huge deal. It's actually the third most visited country, behind the US and France. The south of Spain, such as where I live and the ocean, is actually a primarily tourism-based economy. It kind of brought back memories of Mallorca nearly four years ago, when the resort towns had few native residents of their own.
3) Spanish people like bread. And oranges. Always expect to eat at least one.
4) Everyone claims to be Catholic, but only about half go. I have yet to see it's effect on daily life here.
5) Americans are much nicer. That doesn't mean Spanish people aren't nice, but it's a lot harder to talk with a native by just shooting the breeze. This makes interaction with authentic Spaniards difficult. It takes two to tango.

Jacob

Differences: Post Two

Here are a few more of the differences I've noticed between Spain and the US:

TIME

What is said.
"Let's meet up at 10."
More accurate translation.
"I'm going to possibly leave my house around ten and slowly meander halfway across the city to where we're supposed to meet. I'll likely get there sometime around 10:35."

My group is catching on quite well with Spanish time, as we like to call it.

Simply substitute the drink with a Sangria and you're golden.

DESSERT

It's called FRUIT. It fulfills two categories on the Spanish food pyramid. In America, you can find it crammed on the second level of our food pyramid, overlooked by pasta and candy.

No matter what today's school system says, THIS is the real food pyramid.

Say it with me America. H-E-A-L-T-H-Y

Yes, they actually are used for other purposes than Sangria mix and throwing objects in riots here.

This is probably one of the reasons that Spain's obesity rate is much lower.

HOMELESS PEOPLE

Well, I guess I can't really make any sarcastic comments on this one. You see, on average, a bit more homeless people on the corners here. Evidently, I'm not going to post pictures of them (nor do I have any), but the signs saying "I have 3 kids, two dogs, and cancer" are quite frequent. I'm still uneasy about this topic; as a Christian we're supposed to help the poor, but it's so hard to tell who's out there begging out of legitimate need and who just wants the pity money from generous bystanders. 

POLITICS

Politicians and politics are equally as bad here as in America, if not a little worse due to frequent corruption. However, there is pretty much one issue that always comes up and surprises me when I've had conversations with Spaniards, and it's about gun rights. 

I'm pretty sure they can't even fathom the fact that a modern, progressive, technology-filled nation allows their citizens to have pistols, much less rifles and pretty much everything else. In Spain, it's downright near impossible to get legally carry a gun, unless you're a police officer. Consequently, Spain's murder rate by gun is much lower, however, when you take into consideration they have population of about 45 million compared to the U.S.'s 300 million+, it's understandable.

Unfortunately, this means the only television coverage they get of America in depth is when there's a shooting. My host mom literally thought it was a bloodbath other there everyday. Misinformation is an international disease, I guess.

Yeah!

There's a lot more to experience here. Let's see where this adventure takes me!

Jacob

Some simple observations

OBSERVATIONS

I've been living in Spain for a mere ten days, and it honestly feels like I've been here a month half year.
Seriously. It's nuts.
When I think back, a week ago we were still settling in and just getting a feel for the place. I hardly know Correos (the center of the town where we meet) and couldn't even tell you where the nearest Tapas Bar was (Luckily, as I soon found off, the correct answer to that question is about three bars every five shops. Seriously.).

And thus began our adventure. Bonus points if you can tell which glass is mine.

Let me first just start and say that many Americans, if not most, come to Europe with stereotypes and generalizations. I'm gonna go off and say right off the bat that, especially as one of the younger generations, many of them concern a more liberal use of alcohol. So far, from what I've seen, the expectations are true, yet false at the exact same time.

ALCOHOL

Yes, the legal drinking age here is 16-18, depending where you go, though I've never been asked for an ID when ordering. Yes, you can drink in the streets, though that is changing in Spain, as you can't be a ravenous band of drunkards waking everyone up those few souls who actually go to bed before three AM. This should sound like common sense, but behind every common sense law there is an incident of beyond-imaginable stupidity that led to it. Also, alcohol is a lot more accessible everywhere, to everyone. Like, I've found it's easier to walk into a restaurant/bar and order a beer than say, a coffee. Alcohol is just a staple of life here, which is fine, assuming you're not dumb with it.
On the contrary, alcohol does NOT fuel all the parties - for the natives. That's more of the tourist thing, to which the natives flock to in an attempt to impress; it works about half the time. The nightlife here is huge. I've never been walking around at four thirty in the morning and seen as many people outside and still moving around. Granted, I come from Midwest Suburbia, so I could just be a little sheltered, but bar the few major global cities in America, few places in America I've been to can compare to the dedication and night schedule Spaniards have. Parties don't start until two AM and can easily run until 8 AM (I have not yet conquered the six hour party challenge; results pending.). As first mentioned, it's not the alcohol that makes the party I've noticed, it's the fellowship of having your best friends around you, knowing the city places to be and being surrounded by likewise people, and everyone looking mighty fine.

Approximate BAC after picture, 0.000001%. Nothing after. Carry on.

LOOKING FINE

Which brings me to my next point. People in Spain, and I'm making an educated guess that this applies to most/all of Europe as well, take dressing well very seriously. Sure, there might be a ~27% unemployment rate and a worse underemployed rate, but at least they look good. Sheesh. Really. Buy a scarf; that's my one recommendation to those visiting Europe. We Americans, while we pride ourselves on being number one in many categories, do not come close to the dress level of Europeans. Again, it's just culture.

Did I nail it?! #prepartyselfie

Oh gosh. I just posted a selfie....

LUNCH

You don't mess with lunch. If, for whatever impossible reason that exists, you cannot attend family lunch, you proceed to write your last will and testament before heading to the store, purchasing the most expensive roses possible, and go home to explain to your parents (begging on your knees), why their lunch isn't good enough.

Okay, that might be a little exaggeration, but the rumors floating around the ever-busy American work schedule about Spanish siestas are totally true. The city does quite literally shut down from the hours of 2 PM to 5 PM, bar some of the larger private businesses and essential government services. Lunch is the time to come together as a family and share what's happened so far. The funny thing is, by 5 PM in America, we'd be calling it a day, but many return to work, staying open till about ten or so. This also is probably why Spain's nightlife starts so late (2 AM). It's weird, especially coming from one of the busiest nations on earth, but it works, strange enough.

STREET CRED INTERACTIONS

Lastly, the street culture here is so vast, yet so impersonal. Eye contact with strangers and "perdoname"'s (excuse me's) are exceedingly rare, and indulging in them simply labels you a foreigner. I guess I never really thought about how polite Americans are, and within America, how nice Minnesotans are. They don't call it Minnesota nice for nothing.
On the flip side, when you know someone, personal space becomes a myth of the past. Kisses are frequent for greetings, and expect to be having a conversation a mere foot - if that - from your face when talking. It takes some getting used to, but hey, at least they look good when you have to stare at them, right?!

In the future, let's see if I can be a little more persistent in updating this.

Jacob

All Beginnings Start with an airport (or four)

Before you read: Sorry, this is about a week late. I never really got around to posting it and it's been sitting in my draft folder. So, a week late, but here is the first post. I'll get to making a more updated one ASAP.

I am going to live in Spain (at the time of this blog, I already am.).

It will be for five months.

I am a little freaked out (nerves have calmed by posting).

Wat?

To get to Europe, however, one must embark on a series of horrendous bureaucratic nightmares we call flights. My particular experience started in Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. From this smaller airport I transferred to the behemoth, Chicago O'Hare. With a four hour layover, I had some time to sit around.  With the next two hours sitting on a delayed plane, I had too much time to sit around. Yes, I suppose de-icing the plane is kinda important, but can't I still be impatient?

Regardless, we eventually departed, a mere two hours after our scheduled time. The seven hour flight went about as well as it did the last time I made the journey, meaning long, because I don't sleep on objects 39,000 feet in the atmosphere travelling at 600+ miles per hour. 

Seriously, technology these days. Last time I flew this way, I got a Miley Cyrus movie and elevator music!

To those of you in the Midwest, it always could be colder nearly seven miles up over the Atlantic Ocean! (but not much)

Alas, even this magnificent journey ended, this time at Madrid-Barajas Airport. It was also here where I realized my connecting flight to Granada had left nearly an hour ago. Wonderful.

Spot the end of the terminal. That's right, I couldn't either. In fact, our flight's on the other side of the airport.

But to my pleasant surprise, the airport had already made up for it. Turns out I wasn't the only one in my CEA group on that delayed Chicago plane; there were about a dozen or so other (all female, may I add) estudiantes from Illinois State University left behind with me. A representative of the airport issued us all new flight tickets and a meal voucher, free of charge. Of course, the next flight was nearly eight hours from then at about 3:30 PM. 

So alas, we bonded, we ate with our voucher, where I had my first legal Spanish beer, and we slept. Oh, we slept.

Thus, the natives played a game called "Spot the Americans in the international airport".

 Eventually, our time arrived and we FINALLY took off. YIPEE!

Of course, Granada's Airport is a tad smaller than Madrid's, so we walked to the baggage claim and sat there for another half hour for our bags to arrive. Amazingly, mine was transferred without issue. That wasn't the case with another girl, though, as she had to go to the police and have them find it (it was on the plane, just not where it was supposed to be.). THEN, we took the bus ten minutes into town, met our host parent(s), and took a taxi to our homes. 

And that pretty much sums up how I got here. Next post, what it's like.