Spring Break 2 Part 1: France

That’s right, folks! I enjoyed not one but two spring breaks last year. This time, school was out for a week for the Feria de Abril, a six-day fair on the banks of the Guadalquivir River. I wish I could tell you more about the Feria since it is a HUGE deal in Sevilla, but I never actually went to it. Though that is culturally disappointing, I promise that I had a very good reason for missing out.

My reason traces all the way back to my senior year of high school. In 2007, I met two foreign exchange students who would become my dear friends over the course of the year. One of them, Emma, had come from France. We’ve kept in touch off and on over the past few years, and stunningly our spring break schedules lined up last year so that I could visit her in France while she was home from school in Montreal.

The first time we ever hung out was for Homecoming 2007.
Kim is left, Emma is center.

I was thrilled to be able to spend almost a week with Emma. We had not actually seen each other since high school graduation. First, I met up with her in Paris, and then we traveled to her hometown, Rodez, in the south of France to stay with her parents. I had met them when they had visited Emma in the U.S. during high school, so it was fun to be able to see them on their own soil. 

Reunited!

You can understand why the opportunity was just too good to pass up. What’s more, my cousin was studying in Paris at the time, so I was able to see her for a while when she wasn’t in class or working at a school there. She is only four weeks younger than me and was one of my closest relatives growing up. I had not only one but two very special people to see in Paris. Even as I sit here now, I can hardly believe it worked out that way. Those kinds of coincidences just don’t happen in my life.

Or didn’t, I should say, because it was real, and it was amazing. It was the best trip I had during my whole semester, which will manifest itself in the many parts into which I split the story.

A Plate Just Fell On My Head

Yes, the title is true. Today is Wednesday, April 11, 2012, and this morning a plate fell on my head. Actually, it was a beautifully glazed deep-dish 9" ceramic pie pan (a rather hefty plate). I opened the kitchen cabinet door to reach for a fork like I have hundreds of times, and the pie pan as well as a few other ceramic/glass dishes came crashing down. I actually have no clue which dish(es) hit me, but the pie pan broke. I think it is the dish responsible for the cut that now spans the bridge of my nose.


Luckily, that cut, a headache, and a goose egg on my hairline are the only outcomes of the incident. It could have been a lot worse. (Let this be a cautionary tale to you. Those dishes have been in the same place for almost two years. Why/how they shifted enough to fall today is beyond me, but you should rethink your cabinet organization if you store heavy objects on the topmost shelves). 

See, I'm just fine! The doctors glued up the cut and everything.

Anyhow, what in the world does this have to do with my Spain blog that I never finished and haven't touched for almost eleven months? 

Wow. Has it been that long already? So much has happened since then. I often think about finishing the blog, but then other things take priority. Job searching, school projects, friends and family, working out, scholarship applications...my list, at times, seems infinite. Today, though, I have decided to turn a crappy morning into an opportunity to start tying up the loose ends from that semester in Spain. 

It's not so much for sharing with you what happened to me a year ago--although of course I love that--as it is for recording the memories for my own sake before I forget them entirely. Plus, I never know when a bunch of ceramic dishes could fall on my head again, potentially leaving me with amnesia and no primary accounts to help me remember my life save this blog.

Falling off the face of the Earth

Yes, it's been sixteen days, and I have at least a dozen posts to catch up on. I hope you'll hang in there until they are done because it's been an exciting month of travels, saying goodbye to friends, and looking forward to seeing those back home. Tomorrow is my last day in Sevilla. After that Mom and I will return to the USA. By the following Tuesday I will have stayed with my sister and her family for a few days, gone home to Hudson to see more friends and family, moved to Madison, and started a new job.


So, I apologize that it may take me well into June to wrap things up, and forgive me if this post's format is goofy. I'm composing it on my mom's iPhone because my computer charger decided to melt itself into two pieces in Italy. Hopefully I'll score a used charger at the Apple Store in Milwaukee and get this blog up and running again soon.

What in the world...?

What in the world is happening to me?

I’ve been downing coffee like there’s no tomorrow, with barely any sugar.

I’m not only drinking red wine but am starting to prefer it, depending upon what I’m eating.

Last week, I think I ate anchovies, and I definitely ate octopus. I’d eat both again.

My favorite part to eat of a duck is the gizzard.

I’ve gotten used to eating lunch at two or three o’clock and dinner at ten.

I traversed on my own through Paris without a real map or any French speaking skills, and not once did I feel apprehensive or lost.

People stare at me all of the time, and I don’t care. I am constantly embarrassing myself, and I don’t care.

Hmm. Looks like someone might be growing up.

Looking forward

In twelve days:

o   Mom

o   Curling iron

o   Big breakfasts

o   Being a travel tour guide (look out, Samantha Brown)

o   No school

In twenty-four days:

o   Family, especially meeting Brock soon

o   Friends

o   Peanut butter

o   Yogurt and granola

o   Driving, although I will apparently go bankrupt doing so the way the price of gas is rising

o   Oatmeal

o   Crossing the street at the intersection

o   Caribou

o   My bed!

o   My pillow!

o   Cooking

o   Doing my own laundry

o   Not cornflakes

o   Having an income

o   Taking pictures of my nieces and nephews

o   Fresh milk

o   Grilling out

o   Not getting weird stares at cafes when I talk into my computer

o   Not being stared at like a freak when I go for a run (or at least not as often)

o   Not wearing shoes all around the house (I am such a Midwesterner.)

o   Carpet/rugs

o   Chocolate chip cookies

o   A full keyboard on my phone

o   Shoes that come in my size

o   Petite clothes

o   PBS

o   What Not to Wear

o   Target

o   Walgreens

o   Baseball—usually I think it’s boring unless I’m watching it at the ballpark, but I’ve been dying to watch a Twins game!

o   Consistent nutrition labeling (not that I’m happy with you, FDA, but here they lack more)

o   Bookstore with Dad (hint hint!)

Spring Break 1 Part 5: La Tele

Since I did not have much to do outside during Semana Santa, I had no problem spending my evenings in with Charo and Lourdes. Now, although they had a stack of DVDs sitting right next to the television, they only seemed to be interested in whatever nightly movie the television channels provided. It seems that they will settle for anything.

For example, on the first night we watched an awfully mediocre film called El manuscrito secreto, in Enlgish, The Bible Code. It was a terrible Davinci-Code spinoff that was so drawn-out and painful that I could not bring myself to finish it. Another night we watched Streetfighter: The Legend of Chun-Li. Remember that these are all dubbed in Spanish. It was unclear to me why Charo and Lourdes wanted to watch these movies over the other ones they had brought. Perhaps they had already viewed the others twenty times each. I don’t know.

One show that I did enjoy watching with them was "Atrapar un millón", a trivia game show that goes through several rounds of questions, each round requiring the contestants to place money on whatever answer they think is correct. They may split the money among multiple answers if they are not sure which is the right one. Money placed next to wrong answers falls away into a bin underneath the platform the contestants stand upon, and money on the right answer is used for the next round. Eventually the contestants reach the final round and can keep the money that hasn’t been trapped by the wrong answers.

I like trivia, but I’ve decided that I should definitely not try out for this show because I did not know the answers to most of the questions due to popular culture differences. I did, however, answer correctly that Shrek was the monster who made candles out of his own earwax and that people from New Zealand are nicknamed Kiwis after the flightless bird native to their land. Neither Charo nor Lourdes knew those ones.

Spring Break 1 Part 4: The Worst Coffee Date Ever

Upon returning to Puerto de Santa María, I had to take a city bus from the train station back to the apartment complex. After getting off at my stop, I was approached by a guy who had also gotten off at that point who asked me if I spoke English. I said that I did, and he replied that he thought so, that I looked different, like I was from the UK or something. I told him I was from the States. He asked if I was vacationing here because he was. I said yes, and he said that he wasn’t usually so bold, but he had seen me on the bus and thought I was beautiful and asked if I wanted to grab a beer or a coffee.

My first reaction was no, like it always is. I started making up excuses about lunch or having work to do, but he wasn’t really having any of it. Then I thought, well, it takes a lot of guts to do what he’s doing, we are in a very open and public place with lots of people, and it’s clearly way too early for lunch despite my lame excuse. So, I said yes.

It turns out that he was from Turkey but has lived all over the place and was currently living in Madrid. He bought me coffee, we continued chatting, and everything seemed to be going well...until he started talking about EVERY ex-girlfriend he’s ever had. Awkward. I really don’t care. Then he started asking me about ex-boyfriends. Um, hi, none of your business! Also, I just met you thirty minutes ago. Twice during all of that I tried to switch the topic to the weather, and twice I failed. Fortunately, the conversation eventually turned around to more normal topics.

After finishing coffee he asked if I’d like to take a walk, and since it was actually somewhat nice out and there is a nice walkway along the beach, I said yes. While we were walking he tried to hold my hand and put his arm around me. Again, awkward. Remember how we just met? He asked me what kind of music I liked, and I said that I liked almost any kind—rock, acoustic, rap, hip hop, whatever—it just depends on who’s singing and what it’s about. Apparently my open-minded attitude to music meant that I also like Turkish music, because that is what he started singing to me. I kind of blame myself for that one.

Once the song was wrapped up he told  me that I was unlike other girls my age, that I was very mature, that I seemed to care very much about other people, that I was beautiful and that he liked my green eyes. Well, I mean, I’m not going to disagree with you, man. But, then he said that he really wanted me to be in his future, that I should come to Madrid soon. Excuse me? Are you nuts? I said that I had to go, and he told me that he knew that this seemed strange because he knew my personality but that I shouldn’t feel that way. Oh really? You know my personality? Then you should have known that I would be super creeped out by all of this and that I would be enraged that you would think that you could know everything about me within one hour of meeting me. NOT okay.

That’s not the last of it. As I started to turn away, he tried to kiss me—tongue first. Are you fricking kidding me? I said thanks for the coffee and adios, but he said that we should meet up tomorrow, that he’d wait for me right there at noon. I told him he shouldn’t do that. He asked why not. I replied that I was not coming, so he should not waste his time. Even as I was halfway back to the apartment he asked if he could get my number or look me up on messenger. NO! It’s better that I look you up anyway, dude. What name will you be under? Crazy McCrazersons? I am glad that I have met nice, non-crazy guys here so that I do not take back that stereotypical image of the much-too-forward European guy.

For those who will ask me out for coffee in the future, good news: I can assure you that it will never be worse than this.