a change in tone.

over the past 10 days, i have felt more emotions, shed more tears, and felt more stupid than i have in a good 16 years combined. I became the girl i hate. the one who complains, who judges, who doesn't communicate, doesn't see beyond, and worst of all, becomes negative. I acted a big fat fool. I didn't see what i have here in spain, (a whole country!!) and what i have back home (a loving family, loving friends, and tons of support). 

so, from now on, these post will only be for positive things. i will think positive, i will learn spanish, make friends, and take advantage of this experience. it will be hard. it is hard. it is frustrating and very emotional. and i will get through this laughing and come back with an amazing new sense of the world and myself. 

please stay patient with me and know that for all the bitching and moaning i do, i really don't have anything to complain about. 

xoxoxo. 

violeta

Dreaming

I had a dream last night that I was back in Strawberry Village. I was with my friends and family. Peter Winkler was there too. I haven't been that happy in over 10 days. When I awoke, I was filled with joy, and then I remembered that I am three billion miles away from everything that is familiar to me. 

When I went outside to catch the bus for school, I saw the moon for the first time in Spain. 

It was a tiny sliver. 

When I left California, it was full. 

I was listening to Brett Dennen.

"Hold this heart when I go

Sing my song when I go

Sing it loud when I go

Sing it proud when I go

Some people are learning to die and some people are yearning to fly 

but I know that they'd all be yearning to fly"

I met an amazing person yesterday. Her name is Mila, and she is a friend of a friend and lived in the U.S. for 7 years. She now lives in the next town over, and took me under her wing. We went to her parents large "campo" (piece of land), where I was greeted by 4 out of her 12 siblings. They piece of land they have is amazing. There are two houses on it, and one more is being built by Mila and her brothers. Mila's mother greeted me with many kisses and immediately began showing me family photos. There is so much love in that family that I brought tears to my eyes. Before lunch was served, I wandered around the houses, and stumbled upon 6 kittens, less than two months old. They were so cute, and my heart melted. I didn't have my digi-camera, but next time I go (which is soon i hope :) I will take lots of photos. After a long lunch, and more chatting, Mila took me and Michael to a beautiful beach in Chiclana. I found a shell that I will make into a necklace. Everytime I touch that shell, I will be reminded of the strength and love Mila has, and hope to one day be as kind as her. 

Mila is trying to get a small hosting/teaching project off the ground, so if anyone is interested in living in Chiclana for a short amount of time and wants to learn the Spanish culture and the Spanish way of life, then please let me know, and I will give you Mila's contact information. 

Things are getting better. I am slowly learning Spanish. 

One week down, 35 to go.  

Violeta

My brain hurts.

Oh man. It is only Thursday, but I feel as if it should be at least the middle of October. Time drips by slowly, almost painfully. Being lonely sucks. Not being able to speak Spanish sucks. My negative attitude sucks. But, yesterday I had a lot of fun. I didn't have school, and spent the night in Chiclana, a neighboring city, with Nazaret, (my host sister), and her exchange student, Michael. Michael is a super fun, super gay black man who is one year older than me and is from San Diego. We walked around Chiclana for many, many hours. Getting lost, stepping in poop, and buying candy at little corner store shops. We left Nazaret's apartment at 3:30, and she warned us that everything was going to be closed because it is the afternoon and nothing is open until 6:00. We didn't believe her, but, everything was closed. We returned to the apartment at 6:00 and left for San Fernando at 8:30. As we walked to the bus, Michael and I were taken aback. There were TONS of people about. It was cool, the sun was setting, and everything was open. The Spaniards are funny people. They wake at around 9:00 am, break for lunch at 2:30, go home, sleep, and eat, then open the stores/return to work at around 6:00 pm and stay open until around 1:00 am. Its a nice way of life, but its takes times getting used to. 

In reference to the title: P.E. in Spain. I have come upon the conclusion that no matter where one is, all P.E. teachers are the same. When I first met my teacher, all I could do was laugh. He looks just like all of my physical education teachers combined. He is older, kind fat, and baulding, with a very deep voice. He wears sweatpants pulled up to his waist and a whistle. I forgot how much I dislike P.E. No one likes, but still countless students are forced to suffer through it. The teacher (I forgot his name....Fernandez, maybe.....) jokes around with the students, making fun of them, and other such things. The other P.E. teacher is a small woman, who is, once again, just like all the other female P.E. teachers I have ever had. I don't know if these thoughts have a point.  Oh yes, P.E. is the same no matter where you are, but the main difference between Mr. Oefinger and Mr. Fernandez is this: I am 95% sure that Mr. Fernandez is sexually harassing the girls in my class......

I can't even explain how hard school is. I don't understand anything, no one understand me, and the teachers aren't quite sure how to grade my work. I am taking: Biology, Geology, P.E., Philosophy, History, Chemistry, Math, Project Planning, English, French, Spanish Literature, and Physical Science.  The worksheets they give me are so beyond my level that it takes the whole class period to translate one paragraph. Then I feel like an asshole for not being able to understand. And it is very boring. I have no idea what is going on. at all. When 2:30 rolls around, and I am free to leave, my head hurts so much, my jaw hurts (from grinding), and my eyes hurt from looking through the tiny print of my dictionary. 

I can't stop complaining, but I think as time goes on, I will just stop thinking at all. I am trying to upload photos, but it doesn't seem to working. Hopefully the next post will be more positive. It is just hard. Oh well, time will pass and this will be an amazing experience. And thank you everyone for the positive thoughts and well wishes. They mean a lot to me. 

Check out my flickr account for the photos.

flickr.com/photos/violetmae 

much love.....

Violeta :) 

There are no words.

I have made it to my host family. Let me just say that Cadiz/San Fernando is like no place I have ever been. I know that I am going to sound like the whitest, richest, and most marin girl ever, but let me just say that this is the ghetto. I mean, its not dangerous, but the buildings are very rundown, there is always the faint smell of sewage and cooking grease, there is patio furiture everywhere, garbage, grafitti, and small children running around screaming. It is very humid, and this morning, I was awoken to the sound of pouring rain. I have never seen a house so small always filled with people. My bedroom is tiny. Smaller than anything i could have ever imagined but it works for what i need it for. It used to be the daughters room, which she shared with her baby and husband. The kitchen is smaller than my bedroom back at 18 venus. It is just about the same size as gideons bedroom. I know this sounds like a lot of compaining, and it is. I just need to get out of this negative mind set, which i seem to be constantly stuck it. There are tvs in every room, and they are always on. I watched the simpsons in Spanish, family guy, spanish soaps (with Fini of course), and ben stillers movies.



There is always food around. And it is not always even Spanish food. Last night, Fini offered me some ¨cocoa especial¨and I expected some exotic spanish chocolate treat, and as i drank it, it tasted vaguly familiar. When I asked Fini what it was, she smiled broadly and said ¨Nesquik!¨ I laughed. Last night, she made me eggs. And because I haven´t eat two fried eggs straight up in over two years, I almost threw up. I felt so bad because she doesn´t really know what to cook for me and she takes great pride in her cooking. I am slowly learning how to bury little bits of cut up food underneath the salad that is on my plate so it looks like i have eaten. I just feel bad. But, I am eating enough, and not going hungry, which is good.

Even though I have only been here for 24 hours, it feels like a loooong time. I guess because I don´t ever know what anyone is saying. You know when you put on a movie in Spanish, watch 10 minutes of it, laugh because you can kinda understand but not really, then switch it to english to truly enjoy the film, well imagine never being able to change it to english.



I am sorry that this post is so unfocused, but the past 24 hours have been so filled with emotions that is hard to sort everything out. I had an hour of school orientation today, which was crazy. Everyone was talking all at once, very fast, all the time. The teacher that I met tried to slow down for me, but i still had no idea what the f was going on. There is an German exchange student in the class named Stephanie, and she has been here for one week longer than me, and her spanish is better and she knows some english, which is quite nice for me. But, it is not her job to help me understand, and I donn´t want to put that burden on her.



People eat at all times during the day here because there is no room for a big sit down meal inside. We would go outside, but it has been raining since I got here. So, I was eating with Fini (who i spend the mst time with) and she asking about Joe being a doctor and so on. She told meabout her life, which was very interesting.

She has 5 sisters, grew up in Cadiz, and her father died when she was very young. She had to leave school when she was 10 or 11 and work in a factory for 12 years to support her family. Then she got married to Rafael, had two kids and is now a housewife. She is the one who mostly takes care of Juan Manuel or ¨juama¨as they call him. Let me just say that Juama is a lot of work. He cries for chocolate all of the time, and when he hits anyone, they just smack him back, which i think is really funny. I think that Rafael drives hearsts for funerals. I think is what he told me, but he is the one who i don´t understand at all. He speaks quickly and his accent is so harsh, that it might as well be russian.

They way they speak here is much different than in northen spain. Instead of lisping, they just drop the ¨s¨altogether. So, escuela becomes cuela. It is very confusing.



I just kind of feel like an ass fuck all of the time. I try so hard to help and speak, but no one understands what i am saying, so i end up making fool of myself.



Final thoughts--



This place has SO SO SO many amazing things to photograph, which gives me something to do. I will post photos in the future. I miss everyone and everything, but i know that this is something that will make me so much stronger and give me a totally new vision of my life. Ok, i have my first full day of school tomorrow and let me just say, FUCK TAM FOR NOT GIVING CREDIT FOR THIS YEAR. this is harder than any god-damn honors or A.P class, and it will impact me so much more.



thanks for reading

much love!

violeta

Barcelona!

Well well well, 

I have arrived in the wonderfully moist city that is Barcelona. The plane rides were pretty uninteresting. I had a window seat on each airplane I was on, (a total of three) which helped me catch a few hours of sleep. 

We arrived in Barcelona, 4:00 pm Spanish time, about 1:00 am California time. A small spanish woman named Maria Jose ushered us all onto a bus. When I say all, I am talking about 30-40 americans and 4 Germans. I fell asleep right away, so the bus ride seemed really short. 

At the hostel, it took about 30 minutes to get everyone in their rooms. People bring so much stuff. I am talking about two huge suitcases, and then $400 worth of stuff being shipped to their host families. I only have one suitcase, which seems like more than enough stuff, considering all of the fantastic spanish clothing I am going to buy!  The hostel is surprising nice, but they food they serve is terrible. The spanish programs leaders are awesome. They don't speak English that well, but are always laughing and yelling and pointing, which is how all Spaniards seem to communicate.  Maria Jose decided to take me under her wing, so during dinner, she told me I wasn't eating enough (or something along those lines) and started putting yogurt and milk onto my tray, gesturing and lisping all over my pasta with peas and bread roll. 

But, before dinner, we had two hours to "get settled" That was my lowest point throughout the whole weekend. I didn't like any of the kids who were in the hostel. They were all boring, a little bit stupid, and quite American. All they seemed to do was complain. I was really homesick, really really tired, confused, and still a little bit in shock because I was actually doing a year abroad. 

After dinner though, was where the fun began. I was going to be outside in the Barcelona warm rain and cry, but.....luckily, a few other students who will also be living in Cadiz found me and I went out with them, which was awesome. We had total freedom (but had to be back by ten) in a beautiful city,  and my leg numbing fear started to subside as I went searching for Spanish men to marry :)

Saturday was way more fun. I met this awesome girl (named Sydney) whose grandfather is the mayor of Oakland, and on the tour of Barcelona, we just giggled and fell asleep on the bus. After dinner, we went out with two Germans, one was my roommate, who speaks PERFECT english and her friend, Paul. Paul was very funny. His english was silly but better than my German or Spanish.  Sydney and I were talking about a one of the american leaders who was kinda of an asshole, and we told Paul that the leader was being a dick during the tour. Paul's eyes opened wide and he exclaimed "HE HAS A BIG DICK?!!?!?" That was the highlight of the evening. 

Sorry that once again, this is still very uninteresting. More things will happen when I meet my host family tomorrow and begin school on Monday!

Thanks for reading!

Fear in my belly.

Hello all, 

Wow! I can't believe that in less than 48 hours, I will be on plane, hurdling through the moon-lit sky towards Barcelona, Spain.  I am scared out of my mind.  I can't even being to imagine what my life will be like for the next nine months. 

I don't know how long this blog will last, but, if I am looking at my year abroad as a pregnancy, (36 weeks), then I should be posting until at least the end of the first trimester. 

I will be living in San Fernando, a small town just outside of the beautiful beach city, Cadiz, in Spain. My family seems pretty nice, but very different than anyone here in Tiburon or Mill Valley. Fina is the matriarch of my host family and Rafael is her husband, (but no Dr. Joe).  They have two children, Jose Manuel is 22 and Nazaret, 24, and her son, Manuel, who is 2. 

Well, this is a pretty boring post, and I guess I am just stalling so I don't have to start the long and terrible process of packing.  Thanks for reading, and the next time this blog is updated, I will be in SPAIN!

Here is a lovely photo of my host family