Carnaval

Sorry i have been MIA recently, but this past weekend was ridiculous. At 7am on Friday morning 9 friends and I woke up and got on a 9 hour bus trip to Cádiz, the city with the best Carnaval procession in all of Spain. It was a long trip, but we had a few beers and got buzzed to pass the time. We got to our hotel which was set up for us by a travel agent and found out that is was a four star hotel. Each group of 5 had our own apartment with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a living room with a patio and a TV. We were still 30 mins outside of Cádiz so we were not going to be able to find anything to eat, so instead we went to a supermarket and got groceries and tons of alcohol. The girls cooked a spaghetti dinner, and we immediately began drinking again. At 10pm we went to a bar that the travel agent had rented out. It was crazy and the music was great. I blacked out for like 20 mins but recovered and stayed and rocked out until 2am. The next day we woke up at 9am to get breakfast which was included in the price and then went to the beach. It wasn't that sunny, but we had a lot of beer to warm us up. We quickly returned to the apartment and played a little beruit and flip cup to pregame. The weather cleared up a little for this. Then we ate dinner and got on a bus to go into the actual town of Cádiz. We wore ridiculous costumes and when we got there everyone else was dressed even more ridiculously than we were. The highlights; a group of bugs that sang songs, a group of pipi long stockings, and a group of 3 guys with trench coats under which they wore a naked body suit. They were flashing everyone and taking pictures with everyone with their fake dicks out. The streets were lined with lights and beer vendors and there was a different performance in every plaza. It was a drunken fest and we didn't leave until 3am, which doesn't seem late, you must remember that we started drinking that day at 10am. The next morning we heard that a kid got on the wrong bus back to the hotel and ended up in Granada (4 hours away) dressed up like a priest and drunk as hell. Luckily he speaks fluent Spanish and found a train to Madrid. Overall, it was one of the craziest weekends of my life, and it only cost me 130 euros. here are some photos that sum up the craziness.

Terribly Sick Mike = Hilarious Story

I was kind of jealous of the Zukks and Ben for having really funny and intense stories, but I should have been careful what i wished for because now I have one too. So yesterday I went to the school cafeteria for lunch and got my normal sandwich. However they had to go into the back room to get some of the ingredients. I figured I was getting the freshest food in the place and was really excited. Boy was I wrong. So everything was going according to plan and I finished up some work with a few friends and planned a little bit of spring break and then on my way home I began to feel terrible. I felt a little nauseous, but thought nothing of it and just went home and acted normally. Then, like an hour before dinner, so like 8pm I began to feel even worse. I suddenly had no appetite and got pretty tired. I figured it was just me being pretty tired and the sandwich was kind of big so maybe I shouldn't have been too hungry. Then dinner came and we had this lasagna with bechamel sauce and BBQ sauce in it. It is usually one of my favourite dishes, but not this time. I began to get really nauseous and wonder how people eat this much sauce. Then every commercial involving food seemed disgusting. That is when i realized something was wrong. I finished the lasagna and ate half of my salad. Pilar asked me what was wrong because usually I eat everything on the plate. I told her I wasn't really that hungry. After dinner I felt even worse. So I went into the bathroom and took a devastating poop. Not a normal poo either. I felt so much better after it though and I thought that the bad food or whatever it was had passed. Then right as I was making plans to go out, I got hit with another wave of nauseousness. I was determined to go out but knew I had to throw up whatever it was that was making me feel this terrible. So I told my friend, who lives right next door, to meet me outside in 10 minutes. My plan was to go outside like I was going out like any other night, then go to the park behind my apartment and throw up and then go out, because god forbid what Pilar would think if she saw me throw up and then go out in the same night. So I was getting ready to go out and I realized I had less than one minute before I was to throw up. I took off my jacket and briskly walked to the bathroom which is right next to the living room, where Pilar and her daughter Cristina were watching TV. I got into the bathroom and immediately threw up two times. As some of you guys already know, I am a pretty silent vomitter and I am pretty sure neither of them heard me. I brushed my teeth, washed my hands, and went outside to meet Millie. At that point I was feeling on top of the world, so I thought that I would be fine. Well, we got driven to the bar by one of my friends' host sisters who is really cool. The place is called Chupitos, which means shots. A perfect place for a sick person to go out and drink in. So I felt a lot better and I knew that since there was absolutely nothing in my stomach, only a small amount of alcohol would get me pretty drunk. I had 2 shots, and a beer and stopped there. Within thirty minutes, I felt like death and all of the girls who I went with were hammered drunk. I decided to go back and catch the last 1:30 metro. While walking towards the metro my body started to become extremely weak. Now another fact about me: I tend to pass out when I get very sick and the first symptom I feel when this happens is that my body feel weak. I figured it was only a matter of time before I passed out. I hightailed it to the metro and caught the first train. Then at the station where I have to transfer trains, I felt another vom session coming on. I looked up at the screen that tells you how long it will be until the next train comes. Well, it said 10 minutes. I was heartbroken and decided to lay down and keep it together. I called Tina and talked to her for a bit to pas the time. Then, 2 minutes before the train arrived, my body said "that's it everyone out" and 9 proceeded to vomit twice into the paper recycling bins where you are suppposed to put newspapers. I was aware at how funny it would be the next day, but at the same time, it was 1:30 in the morning and everyone in the metro station probably thought I was extremely drunk. Luckily only one person saw. I got on the train and made it to my stop. I got to my apartment and fell alseep. When I wokkeup my whole body was aching and when I told Pilar how I felt, (Pilar is a retired doctor) she immmediately went out to the store and got anti-dehydration medication, and broughta tray of plain noodles to my bed. I have only left my bed to brush my teeth and go to the bathroom today and probably won't again until dinner. Now everytime Pilar walks past my room she asks me how I feel and if I am going to throw up and how my poop is. Haha. I am sorry this blog is so long, but I had nothing better to do in my bed all day and it was a long story. I'll let you know how everything turned out when I get better. Peace

Brussels (Photos)

Atomium (An iron atom blown up 650 million times)

The amazing Brussels architecture

Absinthe shots

Mannekin Pis pissing into my mouth

Delirium Cafe (Guinness Book of World Records for having most types of beer in a bar. 2004 types)

Bruselas

I just got back last night from brussels and it was amazing. The weather was a bit chilly but the city is beautiful. In Grand Place, the main square, half of the buildings are guilded with gold. The architecture is impresive and gothic, and the signs are..... very hard to read.

The first day we went to a chocolate museum and got free samples and some of us got to do a chocolate liqour shot in a chocolate shot glass. Then we went and saw Mannekin Pis. This is a statue about 20 inches tall that depicts a naked boy taking a piss into a fountain, hence the name. I took a photo where it looks like he is peeing into my mouth. Then we went to the city museum where we got to see a lot about how the city was formed. The last part of the museum is dedicated to Mannekin Pis. Since the 1940`s countries have been donating clothing for the little boy and they are all in this room. For example, the US sent a few and one of them is a Mickey Mouse costume, and Spain sent a Matador costume. They were awesome. Look em up. That night we went to a bar called Bizon Café. It was col because they have a ton of different types of beer and about a thousand concert stubs along the rafters. Once we had a drink or two we went out to Delerium Cafe. This famous bar is in the Guiness Book of World Records for having the most types of beer in the world; 2004 types. This is fitting because Belgium is known for its beer and has some 250 different brands. We sampled around 5 or 6 beers each and got pretty drunk because they are all 10% by volume there.

The next day we went to a beer museum which was informative, but we had already done the Heineken Experience in Amsterdam, so we knew a lot of that already. We got a free beer out of it though. Then we went to Atomium. It is a replica of an iron atom blown up 650,000,000 times the normal size. It was crazy and you can take an elevator to the top of it to get a 360 degree view of the city from almost 400 feet up. >It was originally built for a world fair in the 1970´s. After that we did some shopping. Everyone got some chocolate since Belgian chocolate is the best in the world and also some authentic Belgian waffles. The second night we went to Delerium Cafe again but only for a shot of Absinthe. It was really fun, but unfortunately we didn´t halucinate, although a friend of mine that came said the last time she did it she had 2 shots after already being realy drunk and ended up falling on the floor and not having the strength to get back up. She said it was hilarious. Then we went to a bar called Celtica. It was a bar in the 1st floor and a club on the 2nd floor. We spent most of our time dancing to techno on the 2nd floor, because we met up with one of my friend´s friend who is extremely flamboyantly gay and just wanted to dance. He crossed the lines while dancing with me then he first bent over in front of me while dancing, second when he licked my ear for a photo, and third when he smacked my ass on the dance floor. I knew it was all in fun and he was joking, so it was hilarious.

The third day we did a little sight-seeing and then flew home, but overall it was a great time.

Zukks - you would be so jealous at how many beer labels I got from all of the different types of beer I tried.

Tina - the next time you go into bambi mode when ur wasted you can now blame it on Absinthe.

Laundry In Spain

Ok this post should be short and sweet:
Part of the money for my housing in Spain covers laundry. So every Sunday my host mother takes the clothes from the hamper in the bathroom and washes them. Sounds like a sweet deal until you take into consideration the fact that no one in Spain uses dryers. Instead, Pilar irons every single article of clothing I own, including my underwear, socks, and pants. As you may or may not know waffle knit t-shirts stretch a lot after every use and usually shrink back down in the dryer, but when Pilar irons them, they just get even more stretched out. So now I have about 3 waffle knit t-shirts that could fit a sumo wrestler. Let's just say I am anxiously awaiting the warm weather. The icing on the cake of this ironing fiasco is the issue of how Pilar washes my towels. The ones she provided for me for when mine are being washed are like sandpaper, and I just figured they were that hard due to years and years of use. Then, when I got my awesome towel back it felt alarmingly similar to the feel of her sandpaper ones. I realized right then and there that she actually irons towels. I started laughing at first but was instantly depressed when I used it and felt like all of my skin was being ripped off my body. Fortunately, after a few uses it has almost fully returned to its original softness, but it was a wake up call for me. From now on I will have to tell Pilar not to iron my towel, and to instead hang it up on the laundry line. Also, when those of you coming to visit me arrive, I am going to have to wash and, more importantly, dry my waffle knit t-shirts at your hotels.

Spanish Hospitality

As you already know from the last post, there are many differences between Spanish and American culture. Well, I continue to learn more each day, and yesterday was extremely overwhelming in that regard. So I had a busy day yesterday and was going to get home really late. Thus, I called Pilar, my host mother, and told her that I would be arriving home late. She told me not to worry and that she was coming home late as well. All was well, and I got home at 22:30 (10:30 pm) and ate dinner.
While she was reheating my dinner for me, which she insisted upon doing, I made the grave mistake of telling her that my throat hurt a little bit. I was only telling her that so she wouldn't give me any crispy or crunchy food, however she, like any grandmother-aged woman, thought it was the end of the world and did the following. She insisted that I drink orange juice instead of water during dinner to boost my vitamin C level, and right before bed she warmed up a steamy hot glass of milk for me to drink. It actually felt really good on my throat, but I was holding back a laugh the whole time because it reminded me of the many sick days I spent with my grandma Honey in elementary and middle school. Then right before bed she came into my room and told me that she was going to go to the store the next day and buy some honey to put in the milk for the next night. All this for a tiny bit of a sore throat.
Now I have a huge dilemma. I plan on going out tonight, and Pilar plans on giving me a warm cozy glass of milk before I go to bed. So my options are to either let her down and get back way after she goes to sleep or to drink a steamy glass of hot milk before I go out drinking. I would never want to break an old lady's heart so I think I will be fighting to not throw up for the first half of the party tonight. I guess nothing Pilar could throw at me could be as intense as some of the things I ate during pledging, but wish me luck guys, I'll need it.
P.S. you might be seeing a very interesting post tomorrow.

Observations about Madrid

Hey all,
I am keeping my own pseudo journal and writing in this blog too is too tedious of a task, so instead I will just be posting random and interesting entries instead of boring day-to-day journal entries. And here is the first. Well, as you may or may not know, everyone tells you when you are planning to go abroad, "it is such an experience, and you get to see a different culture first hand." Initially I thought that this was just a bunch of hallmark generic bull shit. I also was under the impression that Europe was very similar to the United States and nothing could be as different from my culture as what I have already seen in South America. After spending only two full weeks in Madrid I would like to tell you that I was all wrong. While it is true that the fashion rather similar, and Spain is more or less technologically on the same page as the United States, I have noticed a HUGE difference between the US and Spain and they are listed here:

1) There is dog crap everywhere on the streets and what seems like an uptight law in the US is actually rather necessary. (on that note: never and I repeat never step into the square dirt areas in the sidewalks where trees are planted)

2) Spain's Metro and bus public transportation system makes those in the states seem like a Jackson Pollock painting

3) The work ethic here is less than half of the drive in the US. I thought we were lazy. This quote sums it up the best, "Spaniards work to live, but Americans live to work"

4) Movies like Animal House and Van Wilder give off an impression that Americans party hard, but trust me no one parties harder than Spain. There are parties every night, they don't go out until midnight, things don't get really going until 1 a.m., and it is very acceptable to come home at 6 a.m. when the Metro starts running again.

5) Due to observation #4, a siesta is a very important part of the day. Contrary to popular belief though, the siesta is not a popular thing among adults, however it is more common with kids under the age of 25.

6) The intention behind going out in the US is completely different from Spain's. In the US college kids go out with the intention to have fun, get trashed, and above all to hopefully meet someone and get laid. In Spain this is not the case. Here the object is to go out and get drunk, but to be entertained more than anything, and 90% of the time come home alone. The night is not a sexual pursuit, but instead a huge show.

7) Now you would think, based on the last one, that encounters are less sexual then, but you would be wrong again. For example, the average couple will split up during the night and go to separate places. The guy will pinch other girls asses, flirt incessantly and then turn a girl down when she finally dances with him. The girl on the other hand, has to fend off pulpos (which means octopus but refers to Spanish men who seem to have eight hands constantly grabbing girls) and will not dance with a guy even if she is single and likes him until he asks six or seven times. (I am not exaggerating). And remember that all of this is in fun and they still usually go home solo.

8) Spaniards are more immature than Ameican believe it or not. Like most of Europe, families are very close and live in the same house. Well, this is also true and translates to the fact that the average kid will live with "mom and dad" until he or she is at least 25 and as we all know, in the states a 25-year-old living at home is extremely frowned upon.

Ok, I am sorry this post was so long, but judging by the length of the list so far in only two weeks, it is clear that I was very wrong in my assumption that Spain is similar to the US, and I will also be saying to people "going abroad exposes you to a new culture" when I get home.

First Week in Madrid

Since this is the first blog i have ever done i am going to keep it pretty short and eventually I will ease into it. Where to start... When I arrived in Madrid I met up with my host mother and was much more nervous than I thought I would. This was mostly due to the fact that I wanted to make a good first impression, which is especially hard when the host mother doesn't speak a word of English. She gave me a kiss on both cheeks (a Spanish custom) and we were off in her Chevy Aveo. When we arrived at her apartment, she showed me around. My room is completely purple, but it is a decent size and has a lot of photography and travels books and i have my own bathroom. Oh, her name is Pilar and she is 60 and divorced. She has 3 children, but they all have moved out already. One of them, Cristina, visits frequently because she works close to Madrid. Cristina has a 10 month old baby named Hermán and a small little dog named Ty. They are both awesome, but Hermán cries and cries all night, so i am kind of relieved when they are not around as much as i love the two of them. We eat breakfast in the kitchen and dinner in the living room. Breakfast usually consists of Corn Flakes, toast with marmalade, orange juice, hot chocolate, or fruits. Dinners are a little less conventional. We eat on couches around the TV little serving tables. We watch the news every night and talk about current things in the world or just small talk. She is very good about slowing down her speech a bit and letting me try to rephrase things. She gives me a lot of space and encourages me to go out, however I was nervous for the first few days because I knew that Cristina was only there to check up on me and make sure that a freak wasn't living with her 60-year-old mother. I am in the computer lab right now, but when I get back to my room I will post again and include a few photos of Ty and Hermán. Catch you guys on the flip side.