The Beautiful Disasters

         The compilation of my trip to Toledo, icy slopes, a rat-dog and a Twilight Zone elevator, I have had multiple opportunities to laugh at myself and others (but mostly myself, as usual).

Sierra Nevadas

          Free weekends are few and far between given that we have midterms, finals and trips planned through our program to visit Madrid, Sevilla, etc. A few weeks ago, I randomly planned a three day excursion to Toledo to visit the El Greco museum and tour the medieval-styled city. Bus tickets were purchased, hostel for the first night booked, but I could find absolutely nothing (every manner of searching was exhausted) for the last night. Discovering soon after that everyone else had the same idea as me to get away for the weekend, enlightened me to understand why my only option was a 150 euro/night hostel two hours away from the city: aka Día de Andalucía. Well, I dropped that option, bitterly swallowed my sunk costs and went to the beach with a great group of friends! Hello sunshine and 70s!

       Fast forward two weekend, and I hit the slopes of the gorgeous Sierra Nevadas! Not a cloud in the sky, and although there was enough snow to ski, it had to be in 40 degrees at least. We get in line for our first ski lift, and I just feel the *tension rising (*my tension/frustration caused by years of American conditioning).  The Spanish are the worst when it comes to line etiquette: their skis ALL over mine, pushing, cutting in line and the volume of conversation the same as would be in mosh pit. Finally reaching the top of the run, I realize that the slope, in its entirety, is ice. I make it down a few, and out of the sheer will to have the bragging rights, I decide to go to the precipice (a black diamond). Instead of frustration this time around, my hair is standing on end from terror. The chair-lift is a T-bar, which is frightening in and of itself, especially when the man in front of me botched it and had a nasty spill which I had to circumnavigate, but I made it to the top! Taking a moment to soak in the breathtaking view, I realize that I am shaking: apparently I have a fear of heights, there is no snow—only ice and I have no other option of going down except my own two legs attached to death contraptions. I, and every other person on the slope, literally slid down the mountainside (even if you place your skis perpendicular, you slide down rapidly due to the ice and the unhelpful gusts of wind, which stretches your inner-muscles as you are involuntarily doing the splits). Needless to say, I did enjoy my day of skiing, and I was able to take some incredible photos.

International Tango Festival

       Some of my favorite moments with Katherine, my roommate, have centered around the now “bane of my existence” dog, Eewee. Never have I been a fan of smaller dogs, but being that I am an “animal person,” I make friends easily. I had good intentions at the beginning of my semester, and Eewee and I were on “talking terms,” that is, until two weeks ago. This dog has pooped multiple times in front of our bedroom door, three times in our bathroom, and many more in the hallway/living room, etc., but somehow ALWAYS when Rosa is away. After having picked up several “messes,” Katherine proceeded to chastise Eewee in Spanish (I was too angry to even be in the same room as him), and then opened the terrace door for him in case of an "emergency." Having a reputation for being ever-so-sweet, I suggested that we poison him, Katherine, a little more subtle than I, alluded that we DO live on the 7th floor, and Eewee COULD "fall" from the terrace. Luckily, the dog is still alive. 

       I have begun tango lessons, and have been dubbed “la niña de la clase” because I am the youngest by a solid 40 years (J). It is great—after our class once a week, we go to a bar for tapas (wine/soda, etc. with a small plate of delicious food a “tapa”).  Besides discovering that wine without alcohol is like apple cider (yum!) and eating the best pork roast I have ever had, I explained to two elderly gentlemen the rules of baseball, and they in turn explained “la corrida de toros” (bull run) to me—fantastic!

Emily and I

       After seeing my pictures in Spain, the daughter of my family's dear friends, Emily Searway, contacted me because she is studying in a city nearby! We have not seen one another for over 4 years, and have only seen each other once (when we met in Mexico!), and now we have decided to meet up again in the States to make our friendship even more international. 

"Tapeando"

        To conclude, a little something that makes me smile everyday: our elevator. Living on the seventh floor does not give me the desire to take the stairs every time I go home, so I push the button of the elevator and go up to the designated floor. The best part is two seconds before the door opens: it halts so abruptly that if you keep your knees straightened, you are bound to lose your balance, so I am always doing a “half-squat” as the door opensJ. This past week, the elevator’s lights were not working, so our already “Disneyland ride” elevator transformed into the Twilight Zone’s Tower of Terror. The light continued to flicker on/off like a black light, and as I looked into the elevator’s huge mirror, I half expected for a ghost to make an appearance. I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed when the janitor replaced the bulb.

May you find your “Twilight Zone” happy place this week!

Classical concert with our host mom, Rosa

Love,

       Anna