where my head's at

So I have been working hard to find the so-called "scene" here in Madrid, and believe you me, it is hard to find the good music when you don't have the Stranger or KEXP or thousands of free CDs to push you in the right direction. Based on some sneaky sleuthing, however, I did buy two cds this weekend, which are both amazing. One is basically flamenco rock, no further explanation necessary, and the other is something like if Hot Chip and Fujiya & Miyagi both impregnated a troop of Spanish aliens, who's offspring then grew up to be eccentric musicians. Enjoy. And it's totally worth watching, even if you don't speak spanish, because there is a smattering of English in it, rad hair, and the words "revolucion sexual" which are pretty self-explanatory.

Cheers!

Mala leche

Spain is so sketchy. Specifically spanish men. I always forget about it, but then occasionally I remember. Take today. I go for a walk in Retiro and no fewer than four men tried to pick me up, one of whom was like 65. Blurg. I'm not blond or super cute, so leave me alone! I just wanted to read my book about russian czarism.

Conclusion: the safest thing is to not leave the house.

How the Spanish Eat

So today we apparently had potatoes fried in more potatoes for lunch. There may have been some eggs in there, but I frankly couldn't tell. Oh, and on the side we had fried spinach. I think my Senora wants me to have a heart attack. There is no other explanation.

Conclusion: heart disease? (the spanish work for heart attack is enfarta (you can all just laugh about that later privately))

Part 17 in the 97 part series on private education in spain: and then we studied africa

In my class at the Spanish University we are now (quite suddenly) studying European imperialism in Africa (which was quite a leap from the pre-WWI Russia where we were before Christmas (not only have we moved spatially but temporally as well)). So yesterday, when only about 8 of 25 kids came to class, the prof announced we were going to have a geography exam on Africa. The first response of the class was, "What, Africa? With all the weird names?" And then of course because no one came yesterday, today we had to go over the exact same absurdity again.

Then the poof prof spent the whole class period just trying to tell us which modern countries pertained to which imperial powers in some sort of logical, geographical order, but mostly failed to do so because someone interrupted him every thirty seconds.

Finally, he tried to explain to us why Ethiopia and Liberia were the only states that stayed free during the imperial period. The kids were simply not listening, so to spice things up, he goes, "Oye, americana, explicanos lo que paso con Liberia." Which roughly translates to "Hey, american, explain what happened with Liberia." Which I did, (thank you Loland!), however it tickles me that he finds it acceptable to call me out as "American." What can I say? Spain is different.

Conclusion: How does anyone learn anything here?

Marchar!

Ugh. So I hadn't stayed out until late since December, and I always forget how lame it is to wake up at like 1 the next day and get that little look and tsk tsk tsk from Imelda (my Senora). Not to mention, Blas (my dog) barks when you open the door, so the whole world knows what time you came back and has to wake up when you do.

That said, I had a great time out with a bunch of the new kids from the spring semester. I had gone out with Laura and Molly (ostensibly to the appletini bar, but they apparently don't make them any more, which is sad) to meet up with one of Molly's friends from high school who was staying in Madrid. Tragically, the hotel people wouldn't let us into their hotel to hang out so we ended up bumping into another kid from the program in McDonalds (don't judge: they're the cleanest free bathrooms that are open until late) and went out to another bar to hang with a bunch of kids. It actually closed really early and, in all my infinite wisdom, I decided I didn't need a Bujo (night bus) to get back to Manuel Becerra (where I live), even though like six of them pass through there. I had walked the same distance three times already that day, but logic always fails me late at night. So of course what takes 20 minutes sober in chucks, takes nearly an hour intoxicated and in heels. Such is life. I have blisters.

Today is Sunday. Time for homework!

Recap!

Haven't been around lately. Sorry. Quick recap:

Christmas:
Lyon/Chambery, Francia (frenchiness)
Frankfurt/Nurnberg, Munchen, Rothenburg, Alemania (castles and concentration camps)
Salzburg, Austria (austria is pretty much germany)
Venezia/Firenze/Verona,/Milano, Italia (wild cats tried to kill us in Poggibonsi)
Basel/Geneva, Suiza (what does it take to get a stamp in your passport?)
Oporto, Portugal (by accident)

January:
Snow in Madrid! *shakes fist*
orientation in Andalucia (we went everywhere! so pretty)
Bilbao/San Sebastian in Pais Vasco (we were not blown up by ETA, so counted the trip a success)

Yet to come:
going to Morocco next weekend!

Miss/love you all. Perhaps I shall be a less fickle blogger in the future. But then, who am I kidding? That's never going to happen.

Salzburg

Ugh. Still alone. Now in Salzburg. There,s one more chance for Nora to come tomorrow, and if her flight doesn't go, I'm pretty much out of luck. I suppose I should go see the town or something, but I'm really not in the mood. Happy day before the day before Christmas, all!