Someday the Old Junker Will Be a Neat Car Again Bailey White

Mar vii

Yes, I already know, I am the WORST BLOGGER Always. Not fifty-fifty going to fence.

Anyway, My Life In Condensed Version:

After leaving Espana toward the end of December, I moved myself and my humongous suitcases north to England, where I spent a month living with my godfamily in Nottingham. A break from school and from most worries in general, I was spoiled delightfully and enjoyed a cosy, happy Christmas and fun, classy New Year. Fell in honey with the UK all over again and actually got used to riding in the incorrect side of the car.

That said, I am now living in Paris, French republic. At the end of Jan the suitcases came out again (unfortunately quite a fleck heavier after Christmas and post-holiday sales) and I hopped over the channel to withal some other new home. Specifically, a women'due south dormitory in the 13th district, left banking company, in a nice not-touristy neighborhood close to Place d'Italie (Chinatown–don't inquire me why Italie means Cathay, considering I don't know.) Having forgotten la plupart de mon francais in the 8 months since I'd studied information technology, 'twas quite the fun kickoff few days trying to piece together sentences without throwing Spanish in at random intervals. However, information technology'due south been a solid month now and my skills are coming along. I wrote an email in Spanish the other day and information technology was really hard NOT to say things in French, then the balance is turning in that respect.

There are but xv of usa in the program this semester, a downsize from Granada's 30-some. And then it's pretty cosy and we've already had some good times together. Living in Paris is honestly surreal–it'due south cute, for one thing, total of fantastic architecture, civilization, and famous landmarks (Eiffel Tower anyone?); its as well humongous, and I've seen approximately 0.five% of it so far, or so it seems. Beingness the near metropolitan area I've ever spent existent time in, it'due south an aligning taking the metro instead of walking and feeling constantly surrounded by newness and things I haven't seen before. Merely as the weather slowly gets warmer (after the two weeks of quasi-Siberian frigidity that initially greeted us) I'g starting to branch out and explore a little more than. Last weekend I went to Versailles with 2 lovely new friends, too enjoyed vino by the Seine and jogged through the back streets of my neighborhood (which I'll soon be wandering in more than circumspect detail).

I attend classes at the Institut Catholique de Paris, in their ILCF division which is basically for foreigners learning French. I accept language classes and a couple of electives, all pretty proficient then far. It'due south a little sad being tucked away in the greenhorn building, only at least I can watch all the stylish, attractive French students as they walk by. (People-watching in Paris is fantastic, by the way, since nearly everyone just looks so GOOD.)

The highlight of our outset calendar month was probably the program trip to Marseille and Arles in the south of France. Cute, warm, sunny, full of color and fun. We toured each town and had time to wander on our ain and drink in the atmosphere, which I did wholeheartedly. I officially love Provence and desire to spend more fourth dimension there if I can.

The next few days are exciting, equally they will meet me volunteer at a social center helping kids with their English homework, go to a existent Parisian's birthday party, hang with a new friend and explore the 6th district, search for a comfy library, and beginning a studio art class (cartoon and painting, all in French of form). Wish me luck!

In the meantime, here are a few snapshots of my outset few weeks here…

Eiffel Belfry with Mary Kate

l'Arc de Triomphe

cruise on the Seine (COLDEST Nighttime OF THE WINTER)

Oscar Wilde's tomb at Pere Lachaise

kissing the glass around said tomb (it's tradition!!)

out on the town in Marseille

Favorite Marseille window

more than Marseille

Haley and I at the Chateau d'If

windy day at Versailles

Now I leave y'all to wonder: Will SHE WRITE Over again BEFORE MY Computer PETRIFIES? WILL SHE Not? What suspense! Life with me is so exciting!

Jan 18

Congratulate me on finally waking upwardly from my blogging hibernation. In lieu of taking the adjacent x years to practise a excess of detailed posts, I'll only do a quick review of the last couple of months of 2011.

At the end of the semester, I….

–Showed Molly the Spanish way to do a weekend, including sangria and belatedly discoteca nights

–Visited Madrid with my fabulous plan friends

–Went to Madrid two more times to apply for my French visa, which I FINALLY GOT!!!

–Met sometime friends of my mom in Alicante and Valencia

–Dressed upward as Glinda from The Magician of Oz for our costumed Goodbye Political party

–Took my finals and said good day to the metropolis and the people I grew and then close to

–Flew to ENGLAND!!

Adventures in that location to come.

Jan 10

And now, the long-awaited conclusion…

Later lunching at a pub and paying l cents to utilise the bathroom (which obviously is super-common but I recollect information technology's RIDICULOUS and would never put up with it in Spain) nosotros headed to a nearby canal for our prowl, piling into a boat with a comical pilot/bout guide and floating through Amsterdam. Got a close look at houseboats, and I officially desire to stay in one someday–such a singular idea. Just similar normal houses with gas and electricity, just on a boat, moored to the side of a canal. Molly and I have fabricated a pact to get back to Amsterdam together and hire one–in the glorious and bright futurity where nosotros actually have money.

The cruise was lovely, and such a dandy way to see the metropolis. Despite the clouds and damp weather, Amsterdam was still cute and full of an unexpected (for me, at to the lowest degree) peaceful elegance.

After a snack and a Heineken at the Hark Rock Cafe, we spent a lovely last night wandering the busy streets, souveniring and window shopping, enjoying the Christmas lights and packing in as much Morry'n'Meeko beloved as possible.

Such a fantastic weekend with a fantastic lady. Unforgettable all in all. Anytime we're going back, but for now we tin can legitimately say "Remember that time in Amsterdam…?"

November 21

Get together round and perk upwardly your ears for a tale of adventure and shenanigans! Merely  a few short weeks ago, daring duo Morry and Meeko (aka Molly and I) reunited subsequently months apart in the thrilling city of Amsterdam. Hither begins the tale.

Information technology was the Friday earlier Halloween. Molly had classes in the morning and would get in by train around 9pm; I, even so, had taken the cheapest flight, which arrived at noon. Backpack on shoulders after a sleepless night of bus and plane, I bravely forged my fashion lonely into a brand new country and city and proceeded to while away the next 9 hours in various Meekoish fashions (i.e. eating, coffee, writing, walking fast and people-creeping), which culminated dramatically in what is now known as the Unwanted Latin Lover Incident. But that is a story to exist told in person. Suffice is to say that when Molly arrived that dark she was greeted with a badly ferocious bearhug and hysterical exclamations of "Thank HOLY GOD YOU'RE Here I Merely HAD THE MOST FRICKEN WEIRD DAY OF MY LIFE."

Once we were reunited and settled in our room for the weekend, though, things were brilliant. Admittedly brilliant. Amsterdam is a gorgeous city, much more than I was expecting. Mannerly canals, cute compages, clean streets, leaves falling and crisp, chill air.

Our "bed and breakfast" didn't serve breakfast, then it was basically simply a bed, only said beds were insanely comfy and we had a room to ourselves, so no lament. Subsequently grabbing food from the grocery store below us, we set off downtown and took the tram to Museumplein, where our first society of business was the Van Gogh Museum.

THE VAN GOGH MUSEM.

In case you didn't know, Van Gogh painted things like this:

Both of which I have now seen in person.  Information technology might be considered a little pitiful how much Molly and I geeked out over this part of the trip, but I consider it an expression of Fine art Appreciation. And Culture. And so at that place.

freakin' over Vincent

That morning time we besides bonded over Starbucks (which I haven't had for waaaaaaaaaay also long), hung in the park, took pics on the IAMSTERDAM sign in Museumplein, and variably enjoyed catching up on quality MorryMeeko fourth dimension.

That afternoon we strolled downward the Albert Cuypmarket, ane of the longest outdoor markets in Europe, constitute a lovely little dessert shop, wandered arm in arm through small streets, and enjoyed the atmosphere, afterwards winding down the evening with dinner and drinks (including raspberry beer at a Belgian bar, as well home to an adorable true cat!)

The next forenoon information technology was time for more fine art appreciation, this time at the Rijksmuseum. Nosotros had to wait virtually 45 minutes in line, and of course took enough of pictures to amuse ourselves.

the Rijksmuseum

The Rijksmuseum was neat, but not my favorite mode of art–likewise many incredibly detailed paintings of fruit and men in foofy white collars, non enough soul and dreaminess like nosotros got from Vincent. After lunch at an Irish gaelic pub, we moved on to our next activity, a canal cruise around the city!

[This story will continue in a separate post because wordpress hates me and likes to erase things I've typed and pictures I've inserted. Stay tuned for the rest of our 2d day, plus a probable bevy of pretty pictures.]

Nov x

Today marks two months since I got to Kingdom of spain. I'yard in the midst of midterms, spending the evening studying for art history and trying to memorize all the traits of pre-Renaissance decoration in Castilian arquitecture, woot. No time for a long mail, but I merely have to accept special note of my mesario! (Fake Spanish word from aniversario, anniversary, and mes, month).

These past two months have been ridiculously total of experiences and challenges and (hopefully) growth–and so much so that the summertime seems an age away, almost a different life. I've gotten such an amazing opportunity by coming here, and I'm also reminded how much more I want and need to do in the next 6 weeks or so before I leave. Study abroad is such a strange mix of highs and lows, welcome lessons and nervewracking awkwardness. I'1000 not sure that anyone who hasn't lived in a foreign country can completely sympathize how it feels to exist thrown into another civilization and language; sometimes the differences are subtle, simply they pitter-patter up on you and occasionally do odd things to your emotions and psychological stability. You don't simply get to know other people, you spend a lot of fourth dimension getting to know yourself. It'southward truly a singular experience, and I'thousand pretty sure when this whole year is over I'thou going to expect back and realize I'm at a completely new point in my life.

Anyhow, enough philosophizing. I'one thousand over halfway through Spain and I've only washed iv web log posts–oh the woe! I'll endeavor to remedy that, and y'all should be excited because next time I'thousand going to chronicle my wonderful and epic adventures in Amsterdamwith Molly. It was quite the weekend, let me tell you…largely because the 2 of u.s. together are just so delightfully insane.

staying classy

I don't even know what my rima oris is doing there. Stay tuned for all the stories.

Nov 3

[Delayed mail service from late Oct! Trying to go up to date :]

For the concluding ii weekends, my program has taken excursions to a couple of nearby cities to savor more Spanish sights and traditions. Accompanied by our hilarious and impressively feisty plan director Verónica, we all pile into a commercial coach and snooze or chat on the style (and also marvel at the amazing death-defying skills of our commuter in making precipitous turns and parking on narrow city streets). The showtime trip was to Jaén to see a corrido de toros, or bullfight.

Bullfights are famous enough to be practically sinonymous with Castilian culture, merely their popularity in many circles is waning due to the admittedly unnecessary death of so many animals. But having grown up with a mother who lived in Spain (back in the ´7os when people weren´t equally sensitive), I´ve been wanting to see 1 for years. To me, it´s as much an fine art as annihilation else; the ceremony, the traditions, the genuine skill it requires, all combine with an intensity and macho daredevil mental attitude to make for an exciting spectacle. For someone not prissy, it'southward worthwhile to see at least once.

the bull ring

[Bam, I made the pictures bigger. Magic!]

The bullfight is structured around three matadores, the men paid to actually kill the bulls. (If they neglect to impale it in a sure allotted time, they will be fined. This is serious business concern, people.) There are also other toreros, less prestigious and with less training, who help wear the animal downward and tire it out toward the get-go.

SWAGGER

When the bull kickoff enters the ring, the matador and other toreros hassle it with big pinkish and xanthous capes called capotes.

Then towards the end, the matador goes out on his own, with a smaller red greatcoat and sword this time. Paso doble music plays, drama unfolds, and somewhen he kills the thing.

Times like that make me wish I had a better camera, but alas, blurriness is my fate for activity shots correct at present.  A bullfight is the sort of thing you have to see in person to capeesh (or non appreciate, as the case may be), but at least you can get a taste hither. (Yes, the matador above is wearing bright pinkish socks. How they manage to all the same be manly in such tight and glittery outfits is a wonder in itself.)

The side by side weekend we went to Córdoba to see the mosque, inside of which was congenital a cathedral. Then inside an arabic-style ediface with lovely arches and pillars yous find an elaborately decorated church area with Christian imagery. Information technology'due south a fascinating dissimilarity and symbiosis. Gorgeous arquitectural design likewise, especially the famous multicolored arches.

no wink permitted, then a fleck dark

getting into the cathedral

It made for an interesting couple of weekends! Cultural exposure for the win.

October 23

Well hi my dears! It'due south been a busy week or so, with classes in full swing and our program making some cultural weekend excursions (look for a post nearly the two virtually recent ones shortly).  In a few days I'll also be making my first vacation trip–meeting my lovely friend/sis/troublemaking partner Molly in Amsterdam! Incredibly excited.  But before I get into a flurry of travel and new places, there'south yet much more to tell well-nigh the colorful and ofttimes entertaining everyday life in my city. Thus, I give you La Rubia'due south Handy Street Guide to Graná, office 1.

While meandering uphill and downhill through the streets of Granada, one is likely to come across at least one of the following phenomena:

The push button-down shirt gang: Mostly nocturnal, this group consists of seven to fifteen college-anile Castilian men walking together in a tight pack, ostensibly off to enjoy some questionable belatedly-dark shenanigans, and all uniformly wearing preppy button-downwardly shirts. Shirt colors are typically pastel, oftentimes in tasteful striped or plaid patterns. This coherence provides an impressive issue that strikes appreciative passersby; however, gangs sometimes walk irritatingly slowly on narrow sidewalks. BDSG's are particularly skillful-looking in the Barrio Realejo.

The black miniskirt gang: The female version of the BDSG, this group of young Spanish ladies clack their style downwards the sidewalk in ridiculously high spiked heels (aka tacones) and compatible black miniskirts. They showroom impeccable makeup and hairstyles, expensive fashion, and confidently superior attitudes. They possess the magical power to look fresh and coiffed even later hours of drinking and partying, and will laugh pityingly at you if they run into you going home exhausted at the kittenish hour of two or 3 a.m.

The Perv Perch: Mostly institute in parks and plazas, this tin exist either a wall or row of benches on which typically older men can sit and stare at women walking by. At that place is a prime PP on my fashion to school, from which I often receive commentary or appraising looks. This phenomenon is intrinsically tied to the Spanish tradition of piropos, or the comments/compliments that men throw out to random women on the street. They can be given tastefully, in which case the experience is just surprising simply not offensive to American women; nevertheless, every bit is more common from the PP, they can too be given creepily by viejos verdes (that is, dirty onetime men).

Bench Human: Inhabiting 1 of the plazas on my way to school, Demote Human being is an plain homeless dude who sits and gives discourses on politics and social bug to no one in particular. I laissez passer this plaza 4 times a day during the week, and BM will often be rattling away on an important topic and waving his hands emphatically; either that or napping. If at some point Bench Man is non at his post, it's a notable loss to the ambience of the square. Every and so frequently he is joined by Demote Male child and Bench Abuelo, who pick their ain separate seats and do their ain hobo things. However, they are considerably less blithe than the original BM and tend to snooze more annihilation else.

People with Foreign Pets: Occasionally you may cross paths with a human being walking a raccoon on a brilliant pink leash, or a teenage girl with a parakeet sitting on her shoulder. Don't silently question their choices in life, or they will give yous muddied l0oks.

Now informed, you tin can experience more prepared to take on your own pleasant jaunt through the metropolis someday! I recommend it.

Upcoming posts: a bullfight, a mosque and cathedral ii-for-the-price-of-1, and hopefully a recap of that one month I skipped due to laziness and nitpickery. Then off to holland!

Oct 13

October is my favorite month of the year for two reasons: 1) information technology delivers fall at its height, with brilliant colors, well-baked, fresh air, pumpkins and hayrides and crunching leaves in delightfully bound-able piles; and 2) it's my altogether month. Unfortunately for the first, Spanish fall seems to be limited to vaguely cooling temperatures and a few sickly yellow deciduous copse scattered about (although my friend Emily and I discovered that in the park where we jog at that place'south a patch of path that smells exactly like midwest autumn…for about 3 anxiety). But luckily, birthdays happen no matter what state you're in!

And then last Th I turned 21, a determinative number in the US which ways basically nothing here since the legal drinking age is 18. Regardless, I am a staunchly insistant birthday-celebrator no matter what the number, therefore we had to accept a fiddling party. It was besides the first 24-hour interval of official classes at the Centro de Lenguas Modernas, so in the morning and afternoon we were introduced to our courses and professors. Oddly enough, it didn't feel like my birthday for most of the morning; probably the issue of beingness in an entirely new place, removed from familiar traditions and habits and people. But eventually I started to feel more festive and excited. When I came home for lunch at siesta, Estela surprised me with a gift–an adorable scarf, only the manner I like, perfect for the approaching cooler weather. In example y'all don't know, scarves are an incredibly "me" gift; they're basically an eternal staple of my wardrobe in iii out of 4 seasons. I had mentioned to Estela in one case, very briefly, how much I liked them, and she remembered–so sweet!

After classes and dinner, I met upwards with a bunch of friends (awesome students from my program who I've gotten to know over the past calendar month, plus three from my dwelling house university of Valparaiso) at ane of our new Granada haunts, a tapas bar called Poe. It'south owned by an awesome British man who recognizes united states of america now, and gave me both my drinks for free (the perks of beingness a birthday girl!)

ladies at Poe--Katie, me, Emily, Sydney

me and Emily (credits to her for these pics)

Afterward Poe, we trundled down to another budding favorite–Blanco, a self-titled Irish tavern, which isn't overly Irish gaelic in temper only has Guinness and Bailey's, both of which are essential elements of a great bar experience, in my humble opinion.

exhibit A

it's true love (Emily's picture again)

Bailey'southward and coffee--two heavenly things combined

It was a wonderful evening surrounded by friends, which is the best way a altogether can be historic. About a million laughs and many warm hugs; funny stories and a fleck of drink. It's odd to think that just a month ago we were (most) all strangers; being in the same boat with all the challenges and rewards of study abroad tin can really bind people together. As can being awesome, which nosotros are.

there's a story to go with this 1

So the final picture: the kid in the front is a full stranger and I have no thought what his name is. When nosotros were leaving Blanco and saying goodbye for the dark, we took some final grouping pictures in the street; suddenly a girl and male child came up to usa and (in Castilian of course) the daughter offered to take our picture since she's some sort of photography afficionado (and, I believe, drunk). We said sure, and at the last minute her guy friend decided Hey, I'm going to get in the picture too. So that's him, forepart and eye. This is Granada at dark, folks.

At any rate, I'chiliad 21 at present; a yr older, and in such a wildly different place in my life than I was on my 20th birthday. That was sophomore twelvemonth at Valpo with the Coiffure; this was inferior twelvemonth in Espana with the Central Program peeps. What a change.

Wonder what life will exist like at 22? Go dorsum to you on that.

Oct 9

I'll acknowledge information technology right abroad: blogging is a struggle for me. Peculiarly the whole getting started part. 2 weeks into my written report abroad, I wrote a first entry, then the 24-hour interval afterward deleted it and decided to offset over once more. Wrote part of a redux draft, then deleted that. Cut to two weeks later on…and here nosotros are. Can you tell I'm a bit of a perfectionist?

But since I promised friends and family back dwelling house I'd keep them upwardly to date with my adventures this yr, I'1000 collecting my courage and giving it some other go. No deleting this time. So here's the story…

For my junior twelvemonth of college, I'1000 living in not i only two European countries: Espana for the fall, France for the bound. Hoping to ameliorate my mediocre foreign language skills and actually converse in both tongues without horribly mangling them and making native speakers blench and/or stare at me pityingly. An uninterrupted ix months abroad is both thrilling and intimidating; every so often I have a double take and realize I won't see my home-sweetness-Midwest (and more chiefly the incredible people there) until the end of May. But in the meantime, there is life to exist lived, things to be learned and shenanigans to exist had–a kid can't complain too much.

For the by month I've been living in Granada, Kingdom of spain. Situated in the bright, mild south just an hr or two from the Mediterranean, information technology's a minor academy city full of youthful verve, tapas bars, cafes, discotecas, and the like. Spanish night life is a thing to behold. While back at academy I kept admittedly "grandmotherly" hours and went to bed past 11 on weeknights, here the grandmothers are just getting started at 11. Elderly couples, families with strollers, people walking their dogs–everything comes alive in the evening when the solar day'south heat dissipates. No early bedtimes here.

I live in a homestay with my host mom, Estela, in an apartment about 20-thirty minutes walk from the city center. A big cosy room, comfy bed, humongous closet, and wifi cyberspace take me delightfully spoiled in comparing to near homestay situations.

photographed after Estela made the bed, considering I tin never become it looking that pristine

Walter likes information technology too

Walter is my stuffed panda. You lot might hear him referenced occasionally on this blog. (i.e. "watched a war movie with Walter today" or "Walter did not capeesh the talent in the karaoke bar below us at 2am last night".) (Yes, we live in a higher place a karaoke bar.)

Estela is a marvel. Basically the to the lowest degree stereotypical Spanish host mom possible, she's a dance instructor who owns and runs her own schoolhouse but down the street, specializing in oriental styles like bellydancing. She lets me accept the beginners class for free, which is then much fun! I look similar a encephalon-damaged flamingo trying to get the moves down while she'due south the epitome of graceful, piece of cake motion. So she'south an artist and a businesswoman, and still has time to brand me super-tasty meals, and to magically modify the sheets on my bed when I'm gone, like a ninja. Quite the lady.

I haven't taken pictures of our building or our street; I have a gnawing reluctance to expect similar the kooky American tourist which only fades when I'm with groups. But in the downtown metropolis, a short walk from my new domicile, are places similar this:

you know, just a random street, no large

and this:

So MANY FOUNTAINS

or this

Absolutely my neighborhood is in the more modern irksome parts…but living just a walk abroad from such beautiful places is a gift.

aeriform view. yes, I live here.

After nearly a month, it'south finally sinking in as a reality that I'm here. For a long time everything had a dreamlike quality; like it wasn't truly my life, like I would only be hither for a fiddling while and not solid months. But with the commencement of classes concluding Thursday, the beginnings of a routine, and the making of wonderful new friends, information technology about feels like real life. Most.

And now my second confession for the twenty-four hour period: it'due south taken me ii hours to write this mail service. I'm going to have to become faster at this if I desire to tell all the stories I need to tell! But AT LEAST I DIDN'T DELETE IT. Baby steps, blogging newbie. Baby steps.

mackmarm1975.blogspot.com

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