I heart Internet access

FINALLY! I have proper internet access again!!!!!!!!

In the past few days, I've realized that it´s not so much that we take the internet and cellphones for granted (although we do), but that we take having immediate access to them for granted. If nothing else, this is what I've learned in the past four days. How am I supposed to keep up with my life without immediate internet access?!?! I guess we'll find out, though now that I've started classes and the university´s library is open all day, I guess it'll be easier. And, luckily, there's an internet cafe right across the street from my apartment.

I'm in Spain now, (if you hadn't already guessed) and despite all my last minute jitters, the trip over was fine. I exchanged money before leaving the US, found my connecting gate without any problems, and the taxi ride went smoothly, and as was even cheaper than I thought. Strangely, the trip went by extremely quickly, which doesn't usually happen with me and plane rides. I don´t really know what I was feeling on my way over; "me da igual" is the only way I can think to put it, which basically translates to "I don't care."

I'm in the library of my university and I can't even begin to explain how good it feels to just be on a computer where I don´t have a time limit and I don't have to pay for access.

I've begun chronicling my actual time abroad on another blog - La Vida Madrileña, so I won't repeat everything here. Obviously, I'll be updating that as regularly as I can, and I´m not sure what I'm going to be putting here, but I don't plan on abandoning this one.

Bueno, vamos a ver...

3 papers in 4 days

That, my friends, is why I have been relatively silent for the past few weeks. The semester has ended and while the rest of this university prepares to start exams in about, oh seven hours, I am done. And by done I mean every assignment turned in, stuff moved out of the apartment, me sitting at my real home in my real bed done.

Yes, I've been writing papers since Saturday. And yes, there is so much stuff I meant to blog about but found myself too caught up in the end of the semester crunch to do so. And yes, I will write about all that stuff shortly.

But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to sleep so that I can wake up one more early morning and go pick up my visa. Only then, then can I finally let out that sigh of relief and try to enjoy the next three weeks as much as humanly possible before I board a plane to a foreign country an ocean away and get set for the craziest eight months of my life.

La confianza

Cuando visitó, mi tío me dio un CD que se llama “Bella España,” y estoy escuchando a la música. Hay partes del Suite de Carmen de Bizet, que son algunos de las melodías más famosas de la música clásica, y otro obras músicas que no todavía escucho. He oído parte del “Carmen” tocando por violín, pero en este CD, es grabado con guitarra y los sonidos son tan magníficos con este instrumento. Como cada día pasa, el viaje a España viene más y mas cerca. Cuando escucho este música, puedo imaginar que estoy en un teatro en Madrid, mirar a un orquesta tocando o un baile flamenco.

Estaba pensando sobre el aprendizaje, y que tipos que tópicos escribiré sobre. Si es verdad, este tipo de escribir, sobre arte y entrenamiento me intimida un poco, y el concepto de entrevistar la gente en español me causa espanta. Ahora mismo aprendo como entrevistar bien en ingles, entonces, ¿como va a hacer esto en un idioma completamente extranjero? Si, la revista es en ingles, pero estaré en España, pues necesitaré usar el idioma.

Yo siempre reacciono como esto – hay mucho en el mundo que me intimida. No es que soy una persona tímida, completamente no. Es raro, es como mi mente no sabe como voy a hacer algo, pero mi cuerpo lo hace. Mis piernas camina a cualquier lugar, mis dedos marcan los números en el teléfono, y mi boca habla las preguntas que necesito preguntar. Y en fin, yo hizo todo casi perfectamente. Pienso que la gente, como mis profesores, no puede creer si digo a ellos que tengo miedo. Todos tienen confianza en mi, pero muchas veces, no me da cuenta que yo tengo habilidades superbuenos ¿Los editores me ofrecen este aprendizaje, no? Ellos miraron a mis artículos y tienen confianza que puedo sobrevivir hablar español y escribir sobre estos temas. Yo solamente necesito darme cuenta que he estudiado este idioma por ocho años, he sobrevivo la clase superdifícil del periodismo. Puedo hablar español y puedo escribir cualquier artículo si necesito y si quiero.

¿Porque no puedo apagar mi mente y simplemente hacer?

My new Spanish mother

I just called my host mother in Spain to figure out when I should arrive, and, well let's just say the next couple months are going to be interesting, to say the least. You see, in the midst of our nine-minute conversation, she mentioned to me that she doesn't speak any English.

This wasn't my first time speaking in Spanish on the phone; I did it when I called the university over the summer. That time I had spent all my effort memorizing my introduction that I forgot to prepare my questions in Spanish. I mean, I had a gist of what I wanted to ask, but when I was actually on the phone speaking to an actual Spanish speaker in Spain, I completely blanked and ended up stringing a bunch of random words together until she realized how much I was struggling and transferred me to someone who knew some English.

It's not that I don't know Spanish, I've emailed back and forth in Spanish and don't really find it difficult. But speaking is always the hardest part of learning a language, and while everyone says that people appreciate it when you attempt to talk in their native language, it really takes a lot of guts to suck it up and sputter out what you're trying to say to someone whose fluency level you will probably never reach.

Needless to say, I was pretty nervous about calling my host mother, since this is the person I will be living with for about five months, and unlike the people at the university's international programs department, I couldn't exactly assume she knew any English. At Sash's suggestion, I prepared a script of sorts and finally dialed the number. It was about 8:15 or so her time and no one answered, so I left a message with my e-mail address. I called again an hour later and this time she picked up.

Immediately it was difficult because there was an echo on the phone, so not only did I have to think of vocabulary and conjugate verbs, but I had to hear it all played back to me. I think it was only a problem on my end, because she didn't seem to be having any issues hearing me. The script was pretty handy until I actually started having a conversation with her, at which point I had to think of replies. I also, of course, had to try and understand what she was saying, though I'm pretty sure I got most of it. She did mention something about me being student number nine, and I have no clue what she meant. Maybe I'm the ninth student she's hosted (I really hope she didn't say that she is hosting nine of us at the same time, because that could get quite interesting). She asked where I was from and if I had any dietary restrictions, and I tried to ask her about the weather, but I'm pretty sure what came out was "Is it cold in the winter? "She seemed pretty flexible about the dates and I told her I'd give her another call once the flight is finalized, and that was pretty much that.

So there it is - I'm embarking on a real life adventure in about six weeks. I'm spending five, probably eight months, in a foreign country where they speak a language I've never truly been exposed to outside of nine years in a classroom. And best of all, my entire life has to be packed into two suitcases, and that's supposed to last me those eight months. Oh, 2008 is going to be one interesting year. Stay tuned!

Dead trees, fall leaves and one very cool map

Okay so I totally did not know about the satellite feature on Google maps and it is SO COOL!! (I haven't really stopped to think about how creepy it actually is, but hey, let me enjoy this). I just looked up my house (which by the way is wrong - Google maps labeled the house next to mine as mine) and my apartment and the place where I'm going to be living in Spain and my cousin's house in New Delhi and my other cousin in Luxembourg and ohmigod this thing is just about the coolest thing I've seen in a very long time!!

Alright - momentary lapse of sanity right there. Anyways, today I got the info for my host mother in Spain, and according to Google maps, she lives only 10 minutes away from the university. (I'm pretty sure it's 10 minutes by car though, so not sure how relevant that fact actually is). As I was looking around the map it really hit me that I'm going to be in Europe next semester, away from everyone and everything I know. And, not to knock everyone and everything here, but that prospect is refreshing and invigorating and oh so exciting. I'm almost done with this hellish semester (26 days!!!!), and while next semester is slightly daunting and intimidating, it will be like nothing I've ever done before.

Anyways, things have been slightly weird around here. Weird in the sense that I don't remember the last time I saw a blue sky - it's just been days and days of gray. One day it sort of rained, another it was kind of misty, and then another you could feel the rain lurking in the air around you, but it wasn't actually there. Last night I was walking around the mall on the center of campus and it was the eeriest thing I've ever seen - the entire expanse of grass was covered in this mist, just like the fake mist created by dry ice at low-budget magic shows. I thought to myself, if it was Halloween right now, I would kind of be scared out of my mind. It really looked like something out of a Hitchcock movie or something. But it wasn't cold and it was fairly early in the night (8 p.m.) so it wasn't totally sketchy. You would think that with a misty field would come the howling wind and people bundled up in coats and scarves, but it's been pretty warm for this time of year. Today it was supposed to touch 69 - walking around you saw people in shorts and people in coats.

And it's not just the weather that's strange. Yesterday I was walking to the journalism building to work on a project, and the moment I turned the corner, I knew something was missing. As I walked down the steps, I saw a gigantic tree stump and realized that just the day before, when I had gone to my journalism class, there used to be a big old friendly tree there. And now it was gone, just like that. It was so sad to think that something as large and and stable and seemingly immovable as a tree was subject to the same rude awakening as the leaves that fell off it. I guess it just reminded me that nothing is ever really safe. In just the past two days I've walked by the stump about six times and each time a tiny part of me dies along with it.

But while some trees are being cut down, others are just coming to life. Well, not really, but all the twiggy trees in the courtyard outside my apartment have suddenly decided to debut their fall colors. I thought that the autumn colors peaked weeks ago, but apparently I was wrong. One of them has leaves that are this intense orangey-red color that has to be one of the most beautiful colors I've ever seen. And another one is a paler yellow-orange that is also stunning. Further away from the building is another gigantic multi-tonal tree, and while its colors aren't as pretty, there's just something about it that is striking. Hopefully it's one of the big trees on campus that isn't on the chopping block.

The other weird thing that I've noticed is that my hair has been really curly lately and I realized today that it is probably because of the pseudo-humidity nestled into all this gray. My hair isn't the spiral, mop-top kind of curly, but rather looser ringlets. Usually it's wavy, but lately it's been making the move over to curly. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I think it looks great, but I look at myself in the mirror and I can see the difference. Ever since I got to college, I think my hair has just been making a gradual transition to curly-ness, since I don't remember it agreeing with me in high school. It wasn't ever straight or curly back then, just straight up frizzy and poofy and disagreeable. So I guess the current curls are drastic improvement, especially because it literally styles itself. I know, I know, every girl is going to hate me when I say this, but I actually don't have to style it at all for it to look this way. I just walk out of the shower, slap on some mousse and I'm ready to go.

Alright, well that's the random amalgamation of thoughts that have occupied my mind this week. Now I think it is advisable that I put my mind to more productive means, like writing my English paper or studying for my government test. Yeah, I should really get on that...

Trans-Atlantic Talks

I had a couple of loose ends to tie up with my whole studying abroad thing, so I decided to call up Spain this morning. Easier said than done. First step: waking up at 5:15 a.m. a full hour and a half earlier than I have to on Wednesdays.

I'm trying to get a summer internship at an arts and entertainment magazine in Spain. I mailed my application package to their office last week, and I wanted to make sure it got there okay. I gave them a call and talked to one of the editors there. First, of all, he had a British accent, meaning I had to concentrate more to understand him, given that my brain felt about as dark as the sky outside. We were talking about the internship and he asked if I knew Spanish. I replied that I'd been studying it for eight years and would be spending the semester before the internship living in Spain, so yes, my skills are pretty decent. Then, out of nowhere, he rattles off a question in Spanish. My brain momentarily stopped functioning. First, the realization that hey, this man is now speaking in a foreign language, had to set in. By the time that clicked, I only heard the last two words of his sentence.

"Uhhh, I'm really sorry, but what?" was my reply.

"Oh, I was just testing you," he answered. I got the impression that he was smiling when he said that. Oh great - just what everyone wants at the crack of dawn - a language test to fail.

"I'm really sorry, but it's 5:30 in the morning here," I told him, hoping that my lame excuse would suffice.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize it was that early over there. You got up that early especially to call us?"

"Yup,"

"Well, that was very contentious of you."

Ha, I had redeemed myself. We went on to talk some more about the internship and he told me he'd get back to me soon.

Next step: Call the university. I had a couple of housing questions and was transferred to someone who sounded quite American. I told him where I was from and what university I attend, and he said he had recently been to my university. That in and of itself isn't necessarily surprising since my school is a large state school, but it's still nice to have a connection like that with a stranger. He didn't mention in what capacity he'd visited here, but we were talking about the Spanish department and then studying abroad, and he was telling me about how much my Spanish was going to improve.

"You'd have to be a total moron loser to not improve your speaking skills here," he said. No joke, that's what he said. It was great. He talked about how I'll meet so many students from all over the place, which is precisely the reason why I chose to direct enroll in the university rather than go through an American university or a program provider. I told him about how I really wanted to push myself to become a part of the culture and not just be like - hey you're American, let's be friends. We had a really nice conversation and he now I'm super excited to go. Since direct enrolling has left me pretty much responsible for everything, it's nice to know I've got a friendly face on the other side who I can ask questions.

Perfect Paneer

After being up since 5:20 this morning, an hour and a half earlier than usual, the only thing that was getting me through 11:00 Spanish was the prospect of digging into Mom's paneer.

I got back to the apartment, warmed everything up and dug into what was quite possibly the best meal I have ever had.

It was just shahi paneer that Mom literally whipped up in 10 minutes while I was eating breakfast yesterday, but that first bite was almost heavenly. The tangy tomato puree combined with the thick cream was almost more than I could handle. As I devoured the cushy pillows of paneer with the flaky roti, I thought to myself, screw all my lofty life goals. If I can make a dish that makes someone as happy as this paneer has made me, my life would be complete.

Especially after talking to Mom last night, the prospect of staying home isn't as inconceivable to me. I remember this one conversation I had with Mom freshman year where she told me how she was once offered this position at Marriott and that if she had taken it, today she would probably be something like executive V.P of housekeeping or something really high up and awesome. But, she turned down the position - and you know the reason why? Because I was born.

When she told me that I was like...what!!! You turned down this amazing job just because of me? Why the heck did you do that! I'm not worth that! And she just replied, when you have kids, everything changes. And of course I couldn't understand that then, but now I'm starting to get what she means. I've noticed that a lot of times, powerful and influential women (Condoleezza Rice and Oprah Winfrey come to mind) also aren't married and don't have kids. And that's one thing I know I can't give up. Yes, I'm about as driven and as competitive as it gets, but when it comes down to making that choice, I know I'm going with the family.

Then again, I'm also the one that when people tell me that eventually I'll actually have to make that choice, I pretend I can't hear what they're saying because I've already made everything else in life work, so why should this one be any different? The saying 'you can't have your cake and eat it too' means nothing to me because I've been eating the cake all my life, and don't plan on stopping any time soon.

Except now because I've got to go to class. Adios!

P.S. I'll have to tell you about this morning's conversation with Spain when I get back.

The 90-day band-aid

Seeing your article up on the internet sure does a lot to make you feel better, even if the editors inserted a factual error that you did not have when you submitted the article. The editor-in-chief said she'd correct it, but it still kinda sucks. But at least, now I really know that I can survive this class.

I was talking to Nancy today about (what else) 320, and she said something brilliant. She said that 320 is like a band aid: you worry and worry about removing it, but the quicker you rip it off, the less it hurts.

Which is exactly what I was telling Mom on my hour long complain-fest last night. The quicker I can get this police story done, the quicker I can regain my sanity again. My professor said this week's assignment is one of the hardest, since the police hardly ever release info to us. But we've got to try, and I've spent the past two days on the phone trying my ass off. And you know what. Everyone I've talked to has been nice, friendly and polite, even if none of them has given me the information I need. But still, it really is not that bad to interview people and I'm not really that terrible at writing down quotes.

It's like my mind is divided in two sections: the rational one knows that this class will teach me how to overcome things I never would without it. I know that I need this class, but then the emotional side of my brain weighs in to completely freak me out. I lay in bed and wonder if I'll be able to get my 10 clips, and if I'll be able to talk to people I need to, and if I'll get an A in this class. The eight or so hours are the only ones I spend without feeling all the work sitting on my head. But even then, the past couple of nights I've had such vivid dreams, the ones that leave you feeling like you didn't get a chance to rest because your mind was working overtime.

But after finally finishing the article on Sunday's falafel event, I realized that I can write a proper article based only on 20 or so minutes of interviewing people. I don't know what I would have done without Supraja there, forcing me to go up to those people and talk to them. I half believe I would have turned around and walked away instead of doing my job and reporting the story.

But seeing as that little time spent interviewing got me enough information to write a 600 word article, imagine how simple it will be to write a 6 paragraph police story for my class. I think my professor is more focused on getting us to go out there and report rather than having us really get the full story. He knows we aren't veteran reporters, we're just students.

Enough talk about 320, now on to a happier note, I got admitted to the university in Spain! Meaning I a) have to go abroad because they now have a 200 euro deposit from me, b) have to put together a cover letter, resume, and clip package for the summer internship I hope to get over there, and c) have to begin the banal bureaucratic procedure of getting a sheaf of papers signed by 5 different departments on campus so I actually can go abroad.

But on an even happier note, I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but there is a light at the end of this very long and arduous tunnel and it comes in the form of NO FINAL EXAMS for me!!!!!! Yup, you read that right - none at all. Zero, zilch, nada. I roll out of here a whole week and a half before everyone else. See, there really is a God somewhere.