¡Hola!

From Atlanta, to Paris, to Madrid we went. Air France hospitality was notable as far as airplane service goes, but there were periods of time I thought I was at Six Flags. Seriously. I mean, I love Six Flags, and I'm a rollercoaster fiend, but not thousands of feet up in the air. Naw.

Anyway, on the Paris to Madrid, I sat next to a friendly-looking Spaniard and wanted to get some practice in before touchdown, so I struck up a conversation asking him if he liked cookies. Only because he hadn't eaten his. But I guess he thought I was asking because I wanted them and he gave them to me. Okay, okay . . . deep down inside I wanted them. Anyway, I learned that he was fluent in 5 languages (that makes me SO jealous) and we discussed things from Spanish grammar to American politics. He even carried my carry-on off the plane for me. Aww. Here's a bit of cultural info: When greeting one another and before leaving, Spanish people kiss each other on both cheeks. (Men to women and women to women only. No male bonding stuff going on.) It means absolutely nothing other than 'hi' and 'bye,' but when we cheek kissed goodbye after getting off the plane, I felt like I'd been baptized in Spanishness. Welcome back!

Last night was a bit of orientation and finding our way around. The main plaza was dazzling . . . we had the requisite tapas, I splurged on a bit of decadent Spanish ice cream, and as the night wore on, a few of us decided to head back. Unfortunately, a person in the trio of us who headed back to the residence knew that she knew a quicker way back. It turned out to be a bad idea to trust and follow her. Homegirl got us so lost . . . it was ridiculous. I ended up asking a Spanish lady where a landmark I remembered was located. I figured if we could get to what I remembered, we could find our way back. Channy saves the day! And yes, it was technically day. It must've been 1 a.m. by the time we got back. Homegirl sheepishly said, "I guess you won't follow me anywhere again." T'yeah.

Today was the first day of class, and it was great. The professors are animated and really into their stuff. That always makes it less boring. I'm taking Spanish Theatre of the Golden Age, Introduction to Latin American Literature, and The Spanish Post-War Novel. Exciting stuff.

Spain recently won the Euro Cup (soccer, or the real football is a gargantuan deal here) and so I thought I'd get in the spirit and wear my España shirt today. Upon seeing my shirt, random people on the street yelled out "España!" with raised fist, and I did the same in turn. It made me feel authentic. Like, the shirt gave me street cred.

Anyway, here are some pics of my first full day:

On our way to class!

At the Colegio de Maestro Ávila between classes

The Colegio de Maestro Ávila (where morning classes are held)

The group (along with professor) in the Spanish Theatre of the Golden Age class


Some cool looking Salamancan buildings

Washing handfuls of delicious cherries our gregarious program director lavished on us

Me right before Introduction to Latin American Lit

Here's my home away from home:

Messy bed accompanied by bookbag and George

Nice desk scattered with a bunch of stuff overlooking a window. (With my zoning habit, I'm never going to get any work done.)

My oh, so European bathroom, featuring a bidet. (I'll let you look up what it's used for.)

More to come!