A few highlights in pictures

Dear friends,

Though I have not written in months, I've come back to conclude this year with some final entries. Before I write about it all, though, I would like throw out some pictures that contain the highlights of the craziest, most challenging and exciting year of my life to date.

MADRID

Interning at FUNDESO, an NGO on Gran Via


Spanish family, meet my parents!


Hiking to the summit of Peñalara with good friends.


Snack time while hiking Cinque Terre, Italy.


St. Peter's Square with our new priest friends.


Ray Green, our resident director!


El Espinar weekends with my Spanish host mom, Rita.


Wandering the streets of Madrid with good friends and a great map.


ECUADOR

My host family, the Vallejos.


Thanksgiving at the Zalles house.



My sister Asya came to visit and that week we (LIGA de Quito) won the South American Cup!!


Extreme mountain biking down and around Cotopaxi with Anne and Mateo!


Halloween on our boat in the Galapagos!


Meeting a giant tortoise on the Galapagos Islands!


Ecuador vs Urguay FIFA qualifying game that didn't end the way we had hoped, but we made new friends!


Regular LIGA games.


Riding in the back of pick-up trucks all semester.


Bridge-jumping.


The crew at Papallacta hot springs outside of Quito.

What's a Jew to do?

Just realized that Passover starts on March 30, halfway through my pizza and pasta tour through Italy. My entire life, I've left chametz (bread) out of the picture for the week of Passover...what's a Jew to do?

The Frozen Phone

I brought my Ecuador phone to Madrid because I knew that the phone company Movistar was popular in Spain. Unfortunately, my Ecuador phone´s bandwidth or something along those lines did not match up to that of Spain. I had no choice but to buy a Spanish phone, but I left my Ecuadorian phone in my purse and never remembered to take it out. Yesterday, my friend was playing with her Spanish phone that looked a lot like my Ecuador phone, and when I took my phone out to compare, I was hit by a very melancholy sensation, indeed...

I turned on my Ecuador phone, just because. I saw my message inbox. I saw the outgoing calls. I saw my contact list which contained every person that made up my world for four months. Then it hit me that all of the numbers of my American friends in Ecuador were now null. I couldn´t come to understand if last semester had been only a dream or a parallel life. But, it was so real. Seeing all of this recent activity in my phone, I almost came to believe that my host brother or my friend Anne could call me at any moment.

With phone in hand, I can almost reach out and touch that life. But, the phone is frozen in time--in Decemeber 2009, and with each day I drift further and further away from that date. With time, that life really does come to seem more like a dream. But, then I turn my phone on, and it´s December 20, 2009. I know it´s silly for me to be attached to this little gadget, but all of my memories are stored within it. All my plans with friends, late-night conversations about the meaning of life, cute texts from crushes...

It´s there. December is living and breathing right before my eyes, if only for a moment, side by side with February 2010.

The Three Stooges

Stooges tend to come in threes, don't they. My friend had been wanting to go to an "intercambio" night at a local cafe for a few weeks now. Lately, I've been feeling restless, so I thought to myself why not take a nice walk to the cafe and get to know some gente.

I won't go into the entirety of what unfolded. It was one part of the conversation that my friend and I had with these three dudes from around Europe that took the cake. Of course, it was about religion.

One of the guys asked my friend and me if we were religious. Because I was feeling brave, and I do believe that it takes bravery to bring up my religion in Latin America and Spain sometimes, I said that I was Jewish.

Stooge 1: "What's that?"

Stooge 2: Put his hand on my arm and said "Let's do business"

Stooge 3: "See, that's what wrong with religion: priests raping little boys. Maybe there are
other religions out there, like Hinduism maybe (NOTE: no mention of Islam
or Judaism), but it's all bullsh*t. I'm sorry if I'm offending you by telling you
the truth about religion"

The last bit of what Stooge 3 said was a sentence-long summary of a ten minute-long rant.

That's all.

Roberta and the Piano Player

Friday night in Granada. I saw the worst performance (of any and every kind) of my life. My friends and I left in the middle of this "flamenco" show because I was on the verge of going up onto that stage myself and ripping the microphone from these peoples' hands. These performers were an embarrassment to art. After we bolted, we went on a hunt for a place that wouldn't make me want to throw anything at anyone. We came across this bar that required going down three dark, graffiti-ed ally ways. We walked in and heads turned. We were probably the first Americans to ever step foot in this place. We ran to a table, and I tried to make myself invisible. Flamenco playback music was blasting, and almost all the people in that bar clapped along. It was a dance party of hands.

Suddenly, a curious little man sat down at the piano a couple feet away from us. The bar staff silenced the speakers and this man began to jam. A girl came over and sat there watching him. My friends and I immediately began to create a storyline for them--whether they were together or not, what kind of lives they led...

We narrated their relationship for about an hour. There were moments of tension as, for example, when a man with a very bold mustache approached her and tried to steal attention from the curious little man. All this time, two other men had joined the curious little man at the piano and put on a great show.

We left this obscure bar that night not knowing what would become of this man and woman, but we were rooting for them.

Today, at five in the morning, my friend Elena and I walked up to the bus stop where we planned to catch the shuttle to the Granada airport. Our questions were answered in that moment. Out of all the people in Granada, standing at that bus stop at five in the morning were the curious little man and the cute girl intertwined in each others' arms! It turns out that they were very much in love. And mustache man, who showed up the bus station as well, was the third wheel. They weren't even Granada locals. They were Italian! And, even more coincidentally, on our flight back to Madrid.

So, we didn't even have to make up the end to that story. It played out right before our eyes. It's a crazy world we live in. We first saw these people in the darkest, most hidden bar in Granada and then found ourselves on the same flight days later.

Ryanair is a European adventure in and of itself

Dearest reader,

During the past three weeks that I spent coughing up both lungs and talking like the Godfather, nothing seriously amused me. Therefore, you see no posts from that rather dark time. However, everything changed this weekend when I took a trip to the south of Spain with my friends Elena and Neha (and Neha's parents visiting from Los Angeles).

This amusement which came in the form of an almost near-death experience can only be described in one word: Ryanair. Dear, sweet Ryanair with its 5 euro tickets and 50 euro fees. Do you, Ryanair, really think I didn't see those additional $5 charges for nothing at all that show up on my bank account every few weeks after I've paid everything you've stated in the fine print?

My Ryanair adventure began at three in the morning on Thursday, just three hours before my flight to Granada took off. Elena and I decided not to sleep that night, knowing that we would have to get up in the middle of the night anyway. We got to the Madrid Barajas Airport at 4:30 in the AM to find hundreds of young, mainly European college-age students who had obviously slept on the airport floor so as to not spend 30 euros on a taxi after the metro had stopped running.

The way Ryanair works is very simple. No one has assigned seats. Around boarding time, the passengers pushed and shoved to create a line. First come, first serve. When we finally boarded, we were not allowed to sit before row 9 and after row 25 for "the balance of the plane". You can imagine how "safe" I felt when the flight attendants told me this. Only one carry-on was allowed--including handbags, ladies. Not only that, but as the flight attendants checked the boarding passes at the gate, they made almost every single passenger put their bags in that measuring box to prove that they weren't over-sized. Yes, after check-in. After security. On my boarding pass, there was a warning to not attempt to buy an extra seat to try to bring two bags. What other airline in the world puts that as the fine print?

The entire flight the plane made noises that planes shouldn't make. And when we finally landed, alive, at seven in the morning, Ryanair woke us up with a recorded military trumpet wake-up call. Thank you, Ryanair.

On the way back to Madrid this morning, the security check-point didn't open until half an hr before our flight. But, that's just the Granada airport.

The point is: I'm alive. And I've shared my Ryanair adventure with dozens of young Europeans and Americans having their own shoe-string budget European adventures. I swear I've heard almost every language of Europe spoken in the past few days.

To more fun times with Ryanair!

Getting there...

Last week was rough. For starters, I was sick all week. My first few days at my internship made me realize how difficult my potential life path is. I was on constant information overload, and not knowing the right way to consolidate all of it was making me wonder if I'm cut out for this business. Madrid was slightly failing to keep me engaged. I didn't feel very connected to my host family, though they were nothing less than attentive and caring. Twelve hour days had never felt so long. I missed Ecuador more than I had ever before. I felt a little lonely even when I was with friends. I failed to book a single flight for this semester because Ryanair failed me. Spring break was (and still is) looking like a failure. I woke up every morning missing the sun because the way my window is set up/the hour the sun rises in Madrid, it's dark until almost nine in the morning! I was sick and tired of everyone from all over the world telling me how great Spain is and what I should see and how I should see it. Oh, and I'm gaining weight. Fast.

I was at no point regretting being here. I would much rather be abroad than in Boston right now. But, this heaviness set in and brought me down. So, dear reader, that was my first full week in Madrid. You know me, I'm always honest with you, and though I wish I could have written about some wonderful first week...well, it was what it was.

Good news, though. Things started looking up when I went on a day trip to Toledo with the program. Though everyone was tired, there was a happy buzz in the air. Plenty of good conversation throughout the day. Too many (but not enough) delicious coffee and pastries. The city itself was very charming. Just the cathedral of Toledo made my day. When we got back to Madrid, we decided to go to a club and dance till six in the morning. Used to going out dancing every weekend usually for free in dear, sweet Ecuador, and not having gone out dancing once in Madrid before last night, I finally felt at least a bit weight lifted off my shoulders. My body had been angry at me for not moving it for so long. Today, we went to a special exhibit at the Museo Thyseen. The exhibit, "Lagrimas de Eros" followed themes of erotic love and the death instinct from the sixteenth century to present day. Later, I went to see the new Spanish movie "Celda 211"--blew my mind!

I also connected more with my host family, my friends and my sense of direction in regard to what I want from this trip.

I apologize that these last few posts haven't been the amusing anecdotes I'm so used to sharing from my Ecuador days. But, this is what's going on in my life right now. I miss my family in Boston but I don't miss Boston itself. After Toledo, I'm all the more excited to travel around Spain. Maybe, one day, I'll call Madrid as I do Quito another home.

Oh, but I must share this. This makes me so angry, I can barely control myself. Bouncers at bars and clubs at Madrid are just plain old mean. I want to know what self-esteem issues they have that they take so much pleasure from belittling and insulting 20-year-old girls. I hope you don't have trouble sleeping with that dirty conscience of yours, Mr. Madrid security guard. Do you enjoy ruining teenage girls' nights with your snide remarks? Go take a look at yourself in the mirror and rethink your attitude problem. Geez.