Valencia Field Trip 9-29-11

Well, I just started uploading my pictures to facebook, and since the internet is so slow right now because everyone else is uploading their pictures too, I figured I might as well blog a little, since I will probably be done before my pictures are. Today, we took a field trip to Valencia to see a little history, and experience something new. Eric, Jenson, Josh and I were almost late for the bus this morning, and of course we had to make that walk of shame to the back of the bus with everyone joking with us because we were just about the last ones there. That didn't start my day off quite right, and to make matters worse, I didn't quite get enough sleep last night, so of course that added to my grouchiness.

It was about a half hour ride to Valencia from the school, and the whole time, I was just staring out the window just trying to fall asleep, but failing because my backpack couldn't serve as a pillow because it held my camera and sack lunch. I just kept on staring out the window hoping the day would get better.

Luckily, the day got much better, and it didn't take long either. As we pulled into Valencia, I got that excited feeling I get whenever I go somewhere new. I pulled out my camera, and started clicking away at all of the sights. Unfortunately, pictures in a car never turn out that well for me, and today was no different, so my pictures from inside the bus are not the best, but I still saw some pretty cool stuff like the Arts and Sciences Center, the Formula 1 race track, which literally runs right through town, and we actually drove on it for a brief moment, many cathedrals and churches, a music center that was shaped like a Spanish Conquistador's helmet from back in the day, and many more attractions. Our first part of the field trip was a bus ride through the city, and Ana told us about all of the buildings and their importance to Valencia, but of course, I couldn't understand all of the words because she was talking through the bus mic, so some of those buildings have very weird significance to Valencia in my book.

Finally, it was time to get out and walk. We walked all over the city...or at least it seemed. We really only probably stayed in one corner the whole time, but it seemed like we walked back to Sagunto and back again; we walked to a Cathedral, a business center, a market with lots of produce and freshly dead fish and chickens- I'm talking fresh, the political center of the city, up one of the towers in the Cathedral; 207 steps in all, and to Calle Colon, Spain's equivelant to Fashion Island.

We started walking probably around 10:30, or 11:00, and we ended at 1:00. 1:00 was the start of free time, so Josh and I morphed into a group, and started walking. Since we had been walking for at least 2 hours, Josh and I decided it was time to take a break, and eat our sack lunches we packed in the morning. We found a nice cluster of restaurants with an abundance of tables and chairs, and had a seat. It turns out, we sat down right next to a gelato shop, and Josh and I both agreed that we would get gelato after we ate our lunches. About five minutes into our lunch, the server at the gelato place came out and started yammering at 100 miles per hour, and the only word I picked out the whole time was 'mesa', and so I took a stab in the dark that he was saying that this table was for people who bought gelato, so I went out in faith that that is what he said, and told him in Spanish that we were going to buy gelato after we ate. He seemed to be okay with that, and went back into his shop. After we finished eating our lunches, we went into the gelato shop and bought gelato. Josh got Oreo flavor, and I got a vanilla something with some kind of berry sauce mixed in. It had some complex Spanish name that I even had trouble pronouncing to the server, but in the end, for 2 euros, I had myself a taste of heaven. I would vow to give up ice cream for the rest of my life if it meant I could have gelato like that instead. At this point, you might be wondering what gelato is like here in Europe, and I realize I haven't tried Italian gelato yet, but I think gelato is much like Mexican food; the closer you get to the border, the better it gets. I have had gelato at the Palm Desert mall, and in Laguna, and let me tell you, both of those couldn't hold a candle to this gelato. It is very creamy, smooth, and light, and it just melts in your mouth...well, my mouth actually:) Not only does it melt in your -I mean my- mouth, it also melts in the cup pretty quickly as well, so in every gelato, they put a little cookie wafer in a straw form so you can suck up the remainder of what you couldn't actually spoon, and eat the cookie when you are done. It is the absolute best combination since Shaq and Kobe.

Speaking of Shaq and Kobe, after our gelato, we walked the gorgeous streets filled with stores of high end American names I have never heard of, and ended up at a store called 'El Corte Ingles', and went in. This store was 7 stories tall, and each floor was for something different; one for men's suits, one for women's formal, one for perfume and cologne, in which we almost suffocated just trying to get through there, and on the very top floor, they had a sporting goods department. This sporting goods department was like a Kohls meets Cabazon meets Sportchalet. This place had a very small percentage of actual sporting goods; it was 78% clothes. I was looking for some flipflops, and Josh was looking for a water bottle, so we figured we found the right place. We had about 3 hours to kill, so we were in no rush to look. We strolled all around the store, and that is where Shaq and Kobe come in; the NBA seems to be quite a big deal in Spain, because there was a huge manikin with a Pau Gasol jersey on out in the open for all to see. Since Pau Gasol is from Spain, I can kind of understand, but under the Pau Gasol manikin, there were jerseys, t-shirts, shorts, you name it, of Kobe Bryant and Pau Gasol. Not only is Spain big on the NBA, but the Lakers as well, and since they are my favorite team anyways, I say 'more power'. There were a few other assorted Jerseys, but if you ask me, the Lakers have definitely monopolized the basketball world in Spain, and I am totally okay with that. We kept walking, and I found a gorgeous road bike for sale with a carbon fiber frame and everything, and since I have been looking on and off for a road bike here, I thought I would at least check the price tag, and see how much it costs. 2,200 euros. Ouch. Well, considering that we might as well have been in Saks Fifth Avenue, I can't say I was surprised. I will say though, that was an absolutely gorgeous bike with a black frame with red stripes, black wheels, and a red and black seat.

We checked out all 7 floors, even though I have no interest in women's shoes, simple t-shirts that cost 30 euros, or perfume that could knock even the strongest of immune systems out cold, and left the store. Josh decided that he didn't really need a new waterbottle, and with most of them costing about 20 euros, I don't blame him. I found some flops I liked, but the only problem is that they had a big fat Speedo logo on them. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against  the Speedo brand, but whenever I look at the Speedo logo, I can't help but thing of people, namely men, wearing Speedos. If you are saying to yourself right now, "but Steven, you wore a Speedo once, isn't that hypocritical?", I would like to address that now. No. It is not hypocritical because I was in the pool the whole time, and whenever I wasn't in the pool I had a shirt on. Furthermore, it is not hypocritical because it was me wearing it, and I obviously don't count. Now that we got that all squared away, let's move on. We kept on walking, and we went to a Lacoste, a Nike, a shoe store, and a few other shops. Just a little ways down the street from La Corte Ingles was another 7 story La Corte Ingles, but this one was dedicated not to clothes, but homey stuff. We still had 2 hours to kill, so why not, we checked out all 7 floors just for the fun of it.

By the end of the day, Josh bought a dictionary, some paper, and a folder, and I bought a 2 euro hand towel for my room. A 4 euro day in Valencia is absolutely fine with me.

For worship, the Americans were going to do song service, but they didn't have anything prepared, so Esther (SAU) suggested some songs, and guess who was standing right there when she suggested them? That's right, me. Of course I offered to sing along or play guitar, and so it turned out that I got to play guitar for the worship service tonight, and the way it is looking, I will have many, many more opportunites.

Well, it is almost midnight here, and I still have homework to do.

Hasta el proximo vez...

9-28-11

Well, let's see, where were we last time we spoke? I think it was the day of the field trip, or maybe a few days after, so lets just begin sort of where I remember leaving off. On Sabbath morning, I skipped out on church and took my hammock in my backpack along with a pillow, my Bible, and my Zune, and headed up the hill. My plan was simple; read a little, think a little, and maybe listen to some music somewhere in there. I figured I would spent about three hours and come back, because I had to help with lunch preparation. Turned out, I thought for the first hour, and drifted off to sleep for most of the rest of the time. I woke up about 15 minutes before I had to be at lunch duty, so I raced down the hill and got there a little late, but "no pasa nada".

Monday was my birthday, and on Sunday about noon for me, I got my first birthday wish on Facebook, and then they just started coming...still on Sunday. At one point, I even went back and checked my facebook account to see if it said my birthday was something other than the 26th. No, it was the 26th, so why was everyone sending me messages on the 25th, and on top of being a day early, they are nine hours behind! Monday finally came- I was really looking forward to it, and not only did I get probably about 80 birthday wishes on facebook, but all of my new friends, and old friends, here in Spain all wished me a happy birthday as well. For my birthday, Josh, Eric, and probably a few others will head out to the beach this weekend and buy something special to eat or drink on the way (Adventist approved beverage of course). This weekend is one of two weekends between Josh's and my birthday, so we will celebrate both at the beach, but in November is when the real celebration is. Eric, Josh and I planned a weekend in Milan, Italy, and not only will we be having a blast, but some of my new friends have also planned to come as well, so it will be just one big celebration.

Yesterday, Eric and I finally got a chance to try out Eric's GoPro camera on the bikes. A GoPro camera is a camera with a mount that can be mounted on helmets, bikes, skis, and many other places. The camera is very tiny, and is used for action sports. Eric mounted the camera in many different places on the bike, and I even put it on my helmet. Now we have great HD footage of what biking in Spain is like, but we will be sure to edit out the part when Eric almost got hit by a truck...oops, did I say that out loud?

Yesterday, I made a new running buddy from San Diego named Juan. Juan and I have a lot in common; he lives in San Diego; I like to visit San Diego, we have both worked at summer camps for a few years, we both like to play guitar (and the best part about that is that Juan brought his), we have both been to Peru to the same mission, and most importantly, we both like to get out and enjoy fresh air and exercise. Juan is a great guy, but one oddity about him is that he enjoys running in the heat of the day. I really don't mind running in the heat of the day, but Juan actually prefers to run in the heat of the day. We ran 4 miles yesterday, and 4 miles today. On Sunday, we want to run to the beach, which is just over 6 miles each way.

Tomorrow, we have a field trip to Valencia that I am thoroughly looking forward to, but I have to get a lot of homework done between now and then, so I guess that is it for this update.

Hasta el proximo vez...

9-23-11

      

It has been a few days since I have written anything, so I guess it is time for a little catch up. Our field trip of the theater and castle was pretty amazing; who'd have thought that there are Arab and Roman ruins within walking distance of the campus? It kind of seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it?

We took the bus to the center of town and walked all the way up the hill to the theater, where we got to look around, and our beloved teacher, Ana, gave us a little history of the theater, and how the Arabs invaded from the south, and the Romans from the north- or was it the Arabs from the north and the Romans from the south? I can't remember now, but the point is that Spain was once controlled by Arabs and Romans, hence the theater and the castle. I thought the theater was especially cool because it was restored, and fully functional, yet there were still plenty of seats and walls that were the originals. My only thought  is, ouch! Some of those original rocks looked kind of uncomfortable to sit on! After we got our brief history, we walked up to the upper levels of the theater and took plenty of pictures. After about 15 minutes of moseying around the theater, we walked up the rest of the hill to the castle. In some of the pictures I have already posted, the castle is very visible; it sits on a hill pretty much smack-dab in the middle of town. What really surprised me is how big the castle really is! We walked around for probably an hour and a half, or two hours, and didn't see even half of it. Well shoot, put a log ride in there from the castle to the bottom of the hill and call it Disneyland!

Next, we walked down the hill; all the way down the hill, and into the market that happens every Wednesday from about 6 am to 1 pm. It was like a market night in the U.S., but way bigger, and much less selection. This market consisted of the exact same things in every shop; women's shoes, women's underwear, men's underwear, women's clothes, fruits and vegetables. Unlike most market nights in the U.S. that take place on one single street, this market took place on about five square blocks; five blocks by five blocks of underwear and vegetables. I walked about two blocks and decided that I had seen all there was to see, and since I had a bunch of time still on my hands, I decided to go try to find the post office so I could finally mail the postcard for my aunt's birthday.

I went to the tourist booth, and asked where 'las officinas correo' were, and of course she started talking at a hundred miles an hour, but she gave me a map and marked on the map where it was, so I just took the map, said a hardy 'muchas gracias', and left. Turns out, when Eric and I were biking a few days ago looking for the post office, we actually past it a couple of times. Of course I was looking for the big blue eagle, when of course the actual logo of the Spanish post office is not a blue eagle. I walked in, and was able to explain to the lady there that I needed to send these to the United States, but I didn't have any stamps. She seemed to understand me, took my postcard, and told me I wrote the address in the wrong place; I switched the return address and where it was supposed to go (this is not the first time I have done that- I have done that in the US before too, silly me). Of course I panicked, thinking I would have to go buy another postcard or something. Luckily, she took care of the problem faster than I had time to think of a solution; she just simply crossed off the return address and wrote 'USA' next to the correct address. I paid, and left. What can I say? I hope my postcard gets to where it needs to go! Even though I screwed up the postcard, it was refreshing to be able to communicate in Spanish without asking them to slow down, or repeat; besides my postcard slip, I could have almost convinced her I was Spanish. The way I see it, if Pau Gasol can be Spanish, as white as he is, then I can be too!

I headed back just before the bus got there, and off we went. For the afternoon, Eric and I went on a little bike ride, but since the bike I used can't even hold a candle to Eric's bike, I could only go about half the speed he could. We were heading up a hill, and I worked really hard to stay with him, and he didn't realize it, so when he looked over and saw me pedaling away, he just smiled and zoomed right past me effortlessly. I went back to the school early; Eric went on a little longer ride- okay fine, a lot longer ride.

As I was pulling up, there was a whole group with their towels in hand and sandals on their feet heading out to the beach. They invited me, and that sounded like the perfect thing for that moment. I quickly put the bike away, grabbed my towel and sandals, and started running after them. When I saw them walking, I assumed they would walk all the way to the beach, but what they didn't tell me is that they were going to take the bus. I kept on running and running, trying to catch up with my friends who I thought were ahead of me on the sidewalk, but were really in the bus station waiting for a bus. When I got about half of the distance to the beach, I realized that I would have caught them by that point, but I decided that I ran too far to just turn back and not go to the beach, so with my sandals strapped on my feet, and my backpack hanging on my back, I kept running. The beach seemed to be a carrot on a string that the farther I ran, the longer it seemed away. What made it even worse is that I didn't know the streets of Sagunto and the Port very well at that point, I just knew the general direction I had to run, and that made it seem even longer. Since there is only one beach that we know of so far in Sagunto, it is pretty much a given that that is the beach we go to. I assumed that I would catch the group after about ten minutes of running, so I was dumb enough to think that I wouldn't need my watch, so I had no way of knowing what time it was, how long it took me to get to the beach, or how much time it would take me to get back. When I finally arrived, my legs felt shot; my calf muscles hurt like they never have before, as well as other muscles I didn't even know I had. I decided to walk along the beach to try to find everyone, but they were nowhere to be found. I knew I needed to head back soon, but my legs needed a break, so I sat on the sand for a while. It was a very peaceful day, and the water was very clear and blue, but I didn't enjoy is as much as I could have because I was worried about getting back in time and dreading the walk back. Finally, I knew I needed to start walking back, so I got up slowly, and walked all the way back to the campus. Remember how I said the beach was like a carrot on a string? The school was the same story, except worse, because I was walking instead of running.

I arrived at the school at about 8:15; I left for the beach around 3:30. Apparently, it was further than I thought. I went on google maps, and it turns out that it is about 10 km from the school to the beach, so I went 20 km in my sandals, plus about another 5 km walking around the castle earlier in the day. I took a shower, and crashed. I slept very well that night, but in the morning, my legs hurt so much that I could barely get off my bed (I am on the top bunk). My legs still hurt a little bit today, but it is getting better pretty quickly. Now, I am off to lunch, shopping, and the beach for the afternoon, except this time I am taking the bus:)

Hasta el proximo vez...

9-20-11

Well, today was the first day in my new class with my new classmates. I had a really good day learning with all of them, and I really felt I belonged. In my first class, I sat next to a classmate named Charlie. I have seen Charlie around, and I always got the impression that his nose was a little bit higher in the air than everyone else, and that the was always criticizing everyone. Today, I found Charlie to be a very smart, humble, and hilarious classmate to participate with. We did introductions today, only this time, we introduced our friend to another friend- forming a triangle of friendship. I was in Charlie's group, and I was actually preparing to be annoyed, but once we started, I was laughing and laughing from his unique introductions. He has a special gift of goofing off just enough for it to be hilarious, but not enough to lose the focus of what we were doing.

Yep, I enjoyed every single class I attended today...except for the class of The History of Spanish Literature. I walked in five minutes late today, expecting to find my entire advanced 1 class, but instead I only found two classmates sitting, and a teacher that I don't have any other classes with welcoming me in warmly and showing me a seat in the front row. Now, there were three of us sitting on the front row, and a teacher who was very passionate about literature...that spells trouble. In the United States, in English, I don't understand literature very well, and if I don't understand literature in English very well, what hope do I have for understanding it in Spanish? Nevertheless, I did my best to follow the teacher and her lecture. She started off with the history of how Spain was invaded by Arabs, and then she wrote all of our names on the board in Arabic because somehow writing our names in Arabic was related to the subject. I was able to follow for short periods of time, but I couldn't quite get the big picture. About half way through the class, after being thoroughly bored, I realized that I had accidentally highlighted this class on my schedule, but never actually signed up, and I didn't actually need to be there. What should I do? It is half way through the class period, and I realize that I could just walk out right then and there, and get out of this class that made my head hurt for no reason. Should I walk out, or should I be polite and wait for a stopping point? Should I wait until the end, about another half-hour of sheer boredom? I decided that since there were only three of us, I would wait until the end of class. Even though I chose the more noble option, I still had to pay attention for the next half hour on a topic that baffled me not only in the language it was being taught, but the topic itself. Our next task was to analyze a poem and find out what it meant. I can't really even do that in English, so I knew doing it in Spanish would be an absolute joke. Now, after today, I really don't mind analyzing poems in English. Finally, it was time to go, and I explained to the teacher my mistake, and she said that I should just sign up, and of course I was polite, but in my head I was thinking, "there is not a chance in the world I will ever return to this class", and I scrammed as fast as I could get out of there.

After class, Eric and I went on a bike ride. Oh yes, an update; Eric's bike came, and he has been "just itching" to ride (his words, not mine). Today, I borrowed a bike from the school, and planned to bike to the post office downtown and mail a birthday card to my Aunt. The bike I rode was not too shabby, and it certainly was just as good, if not better than anything I could buy here, but I would have given anything to have my bike. Of course Eric left me in the dust today, which he probably would have anyways, but another problem was that the seat couldn't go nearly as high as I needed it too; not only was I slow, but my knees were practically coming up to my chest. The ride down was beautiful, and I found the orchards of nisperos (loquats) that Ms. Mumper was telling me about. Getting to town only took about 5 minutes from the school, because it was all down hill. The bad news is, we never found the post office today; the good news is that we got an unexpected self-guided tour of the town. I asked a couple of times where the post office was, but no one seemed to know except for a man who gave us directions. The only problem was that there was a bit of trouble in the line of communication, and I am talking about me. He talked very fast, just like everyone else here, and I only caught, "el ultimo calle...izquerda". So I did what I think he told me to do, and followed where he pointed, but that still didn't quite get us there. I guess I will have to try again tomorrow. On our way around one of the round-a-bouts, one of the hundreds that are in town, Eric took quite a spill, and when I asked him if he was hurt, he just said that the only thing hurt was his pride. He got up, and we headed home. Remember how I said that it only took 5 minutes to get from the school to the town because it was  all downhill? On the way back, it took more like 35 minutes, and that was quite a workout in itself. Once we started ascending, Eric basically left me in the dust by sprinting up the hill, and away he went. Meanwhile, I did my best Little Engine that Could impression just trying to make it back to campus. When I arrived, the sweat ball I was, Eric already had his helmet off, his bike put away, and was just relaxing in his room.

The rest of the day went pretty well, but I am definitely ready for bed. I am excited because we have a field trip tomorrow to the Roman Castle ruins that are only a stone's throw away from the campus, assuming Superman is the one throwing.

PTL (Praise the Lord) 9-19-11

Today brought a lot of disappointment, and a lot of joy as well. Today we found out what class we were going to be in for the year out of three levels; intermediate, advanced 1, and advanced 2. The results were posted on the board in the classroom, and guess what class I got? If you guessed advanced anything, you guessed wrong.

I placed into the intermediate level of the classes, which doesn't sound so bad to start, but if you haven't noticed, there are no beginner level classes, but here, there are a few beginners. Seeing some of the others' abilities, I thought I would at least place in Advanced 1, yet here I was. The director said that we could talk to him about changing our levels, but it would have to be tomorrow. He wanted us to try out our classes for today, so we could know if we were where we needed to be. For me, one more thing that made it sting even more was that my friends who know less Spanish than I do, made it into advanced 1.

 I was humbled, embarrassed, and angry. At one point in the morning, I excused myself to the restroom and knelt down on the bathroom floor in one of the stalls, right in front of a toilet (emotions can make you do things you wouldn't normally do), and poured my heart out to God. It was supposed to be a quick little prayer, but it lasted much longer than I intended, because I had a lot to pour, mostly anger. I tried to hide it for the morning, and I think I did a pretty good job. We started classes right away, and my first class was the class of conversation. I can honestly say that I understood all but about seven words the teacher said the entire class period while we learned "hola, como estas", and "de donde eres"; lessons I had learned over and over in high school and at Walla Walla. I was actually frustrated to be in that class and to be learning the same easy material for my third time now. When the teacher asked where we were from, most said, in Spanish of course, "I'm from________", while I said something to the effect of "I am from Yucaipa, which is between Loma Linda and Palm Springs", and when the teacher asked "Que estudias?" most said "I study _____" while I said something like, "well, I am studying Spanish because I want to be a doctor and I live in Southern California, so I think it is a good idea". Normally, I really like easy classes, but this time, it actually pained me how easy it was. For me, it seems like I was put in a 5th grade math class learning fractions. Don't get me wrong, we all have to start somewhere, but that was not the place for me.

Next class was composition with Chelo, one of the dearly loved teachers on campus, and I can see why. This time, I only missed about three words in class that were said. I had had it: I wanted change.

When classes were over, I talked to the dean. The dean speaks little to no English whatsoever, so I knew it was going to be a big challenge to talk to him and say what needed to be said tactfully, and still make my case. We started talking, and he explained to me that my placement exam was terrible, and he even showed me so I could see for myself. Yep, it was awful. I talked about how I already knew the past tenses, the future tenses, the present tenses, the imperfect tenses and more. I talked about how I had already learned everything taught in that class, and how I needed to grow, I talked about how my adviser at Walla Walla told me last year that I needed to be at least in the 300 level (which is Advanced 1) classes, and I talked about how I went to Peru for two weeks and learned a lot down there. At one point, it was getting really difficult to think of the right words, and I even asked him if I could continue in English (which now that I think about it, wound not have helped case), and he told me to continue in Spanish, so I stumbled along. At one point, he pulled out my test, pulled out the answer key, and regraded it. Of course while he was doing that, I was praying that someone graded it with the wrong answer key or something, so maybe, just maybe I would get a much better score, but nope. Still awful. What made that even worse was that the whole time he was grading it, he was shaking his head, and I was sitting right there! We must have talked for at least 20 minutes, and when I say we talked, I mean I talked; tried to talk. I just kept on stumbling my way through the point I was trying to get across.

At the end of the time, he went into another room for a little bit, and I was sure that he would come back and tell me to just stick with the program and try again next quarter. When he came back, I was pretty much ready to hear the bad news; I was actually listening for the bad news, so I almost completely missed it when he told me I would be starting in Advanced 1 tomorrow. I barely caught enough to know what he said, but I didn't need to hear it again! He told me that tomorrow I will trade in my Intermediate books for my Advanced books, and pick up with the class tomorrow. I was so excited, I almost wet myself (no really, I had to use the bathroom really bad at that point)!

When I left the office of the dean, I realized that while we were talking, I had demonstrated the past tenses, the present tenses, and even a few of the future tenses that I hadn't even really studied that much. I also realized that for the last twenty minutes I had talked Spanish well enough to convince a dean that I was ready for the next level. If I had started speaking English, I could have talked all I wanted, but he would not have had proof that I could do what I say I can do. Remember what I said about being a Windows 98 when it comes to speaking Spanish? I realized that maybe God was trying to teach me a lesson today, and reminding me that it is Him who works through me, and it is not my knowledge of Spanish that got me here. Here I walked up to that board cocky and confident, and I feel that God was reminding me that it is not by my strength that all things are possible.

An All-Out Fun Day 9-16-11

Today we had our placement test, and that isn't exactly included in the "fun" part of the day, but if we are talking in Mr. Melashenko's terms, the test was "a blast". Breakfast started at 7:40 like it does every morning, but I woke up a little early so that I could make sure I had enough time to get to breakfast, then the test. When I woke up, I walked out onto the balcony, like I do almost every morning when I wake up (well, all three nights I've been here anyways), and the sun wasn't quite up yet, but there was just enough light to see the silhouettes of the trees on the hills behind the dorm as well as the orange groves. To top that all off, there was a gorgeous full moon way up there, and a gentle breeze flowing across my face. I decided to waste a few minutes, because I actually woke up early, and took my chair out there and just sat a while.

When it was time, I took my shower, dressed, and went to breakfast. On my way out the front door of the dorm, I saw that both of the doors were closed, and so I opened one carelessly and stepped outside. Of course, at 7:30 in the morning, I picked the door that had a fire alarm attached to it which of course I knew nothing of.  Before I was even able to set a single foot outside an ear-piercing alarm was heard by all throughout the dorm. I just stood there in panic, not even thinking enough to close the door. I just stood there like an idiot for what seemed like an hour but was really only 30 seconds or so. One of the assistant deans came charging down the steps in a full on sprint like I've never seen before yelling "cierra la puerta!, cierra la puerta!" meaning "close the door, close the door!" but by the time I could actually understand him, he had already passed me by and closed the door himself. Once the door was shut, he practically scolded me, in love of course, saying "siempre esta puerta" pointing to the other door. It was just then that I realized that the door I opened to wake up the whole dorm had a big bright red handle and the other door had a smaller gray handle. What can I say? I will never make that mistake ever again.

After I got out of that mess, and the dean left, I started walking towards the cafe, and a girl came out onto one of the balconies close by and I am pretty sure she flipped me off in Spanish, even though I don't know how it's done. At this point, I am asking the same question you are, what on earth was a girl doing in the boys dorm?! And in the morning no less!

When that little fiasco was over, I walked quietly and very solemnly up to breakfast; very solemnly. I was thinking I should apologize to every guy I saw that day, but then it hit me, that girl and the dean were the only ones who knew it was me; everyone else was either still asleep, or at breakfast. The dean wouldn't tell anyone, and I am pretty sure that girl didn't get a good enough look at me to recognize me later, so I just decided not to speak of it again, and I didn't.

At breakfast, there was cereal, fruit, and toast. One of the sides was dates. I actually put dates in my granola this morning! Oh, did I mention they were SEEDLESS dates?! I have never seen that before, but that is the coolest thing since sliced bread, especially to a Californian who has made Hadley's one of his homes over the years.

After breakfast, we took our placement test, which I didn't feel very good about, but to be fair, even those who are better than me at Spanish didn't feel very good about it either. The test was composed of 100 multiple choice questions, and a short conversation with a teacher to see how well you could talk. For all of the times I have been very eager to talk in my life, today I evened those out. I was dreading my turn, because I have always had to think about the whole sentence I want to say before I say it; all the nouns, verbs, conjugations, tenses, feminine and masculine, and how to pronounce worlds all before anything leaves my mouth. I need time to process information; I am like a windows 98 computer with dial-up in a modern fiber-optic world when it comes to speaking Spanish. My turn came, and I am not going to say that I spoke perfectly, but of course I was trying to speak as fast and as clearly as I could while including all of the vocabulary I possibly could. My instructor had such a strong accent, that I had to ask her to repeat herself several times, but of course each time I asked, I asked a little bit differently including as many words as I could that I knew. My little "interview" wasn't exactly as smooth as jazz, but I was able to communicate to my heavily accented teacher fairly well, and I think it will all be all right.

After the test, we began orientation. Basically, it was like church on a Friday morning. Four or five different speakers got up, yammered at 100 miles per hour, then sat down and let someone else have a turn. I am very proud of myself because even though they talk much faster here in Spain, and have a very strong accent sometimes, I was able to follow probably 80 percent of what they said. The other 20 percent I didn't get was when I lost focus for a few seconds, which happens surprisingly easily, and when they were lisping.They all lisped.

After orientation, we got a campus tour, which was surprisingly short. My tour was led by a well-loved professora named Chelo. I know she is well loved because Casey Bartlett has instructed me to tell them that he says hi and hugs and kisses etc. The tour lasted a whopping ten minutes, then it was over and we returned to our rooms.

I don't remember when exactly in the day, but at some point, Josh's long lost suitcase arrived from wherever they lost it from, and Josh was much peppier the rest of the day. Eric, on the other hand, has a helmet, biking jerseys, and even a GoPro camera attached to his helmet, but still no bike. We now have a very happy Josh, and an even more antsy Eric.

At lunch, I met a new friend who, it turns out, lives right across the hall from me. I'm talking directly across the hall; a hop away, literally. He introduced himself to me with some really long Romanian name that i can't remember, but then thankfully he told me to call him Eve [evay]. Easy enough. Eve and I talked in Spanish, and about Spanish for the whole lunch period, and I was enjoying myself so much, that I forgot to eat, so when the calf closed, I had to smuggle a few things back to my room to finish later.

After lunch, they took us to the French Target. That's right, Tarcheau. No, just kidding, it is called Carrefour. I was kidding about the Tarcheau thing, but I wasn't kidding about it being French...in Spain. Oh well, the point is it is a really nice store about ten minutes by school bus from the campus. It was actually a fairly decent sized store, with a fairly descent size selection. It is about the closest thing to Target we are going to get here. I bought a pad of paper just in case I need it, and Jensen and I chipped in to by a fan for our room. The paper I bought was graph paper because that is all they had. We looked long and hard, but I guess Spain must be known for its scientists and not its poets.

After Carrefour, they took us to the beach. Mmmmm, what can I say about the beach? The water was crystal clear, and probably in the high 70s, the sand was soft and white, it was absolutely gorgeous, and there was hardly anyone there. Oh, but forgot to mention one thing; a few of the women who were there... well, let's just say they didn't get the memo that this isn't a nude beach that anyone knows of. Yep, a few women didn't wear tops and they weren't even trying to be discrete about it. They sat up, looked around, and even walked around. Next time I go to the beach, I will need to bring darker sunglasses so that i won't be blinded by the sun's rays, and the little complementary show we get just for going.

On the bus ride to-and-fro Carrefour and the beach, I talked with Eve and another fluent resident, Andres, who is from  Ecuador. I talked with Andres the whole time we were in the warm, clear water together, and on the bus, and while we were just waiting around in the sand. We talked for probably a solid two hours total, IN SPANISH! Mine was no work of art, but we were conversing in another language, and he was understanding me, and I was doing my best to understand him! I felt liberated; like maybe I just moved on up to an XP with DSL or something. One of the most frustrating things when learning any language for me anyways, is not you not being able to understand them, but when you are trying to make them understand you, and they give you that universal look of confusion. Today, I can honestly say there wasn't a whole lot of that.

We got back, ate dinner, and went to vespers. Before we went to vespers, though, I asked Eve if I could see the view from his balcony, since his was across from mine; I figured that it must have a view of the Mediterranean. I was totally right. I am not going to say that I don't like my view, but look at the picture on top and tell me you wouldn't want his balcony.

In vespers, it was literally one of those times when my eyelids start drooping, and my head starts going down until my eyes pop back open and my head jolts back up into position after a few seconds. It happened the whole time. Yet, as tired as I was during vespers, I am still wide awake now writing my blog. That's Murphy's law for you. 

Now is time for some sleep, and maybe some balcony time.

Hasta el proximo vez...

(I bet you are just dying to put this into your google translator if you don't already know what it means)

The day of adaptation 9-15-11

Breakfast starts at 7:40 and goes until 8:40. I woke up at 11:30. I hadn't eaten anything since about noon yesterday, so I was definitely looking forward to some eggs, hash browns, pancakes, and of course, tofu. At the school, lunch isn't served until 1:30, and dinner is at 6:45.

Not only would I not eat until 1:30 pm, but I woke up to a sopping wet pillowcase. Yep, I sweated so much last night that my pillowcase was literally damp when I woke up. My clothes didn't fare much better, in fact, it reminded me of when I was a kid and used to wet my bed. It is amazing how quickly those memories come back when you are a little damp in a bed even 6 or 7 years later.

My first thought was obviously to take a shower, so I did so. So now what? I had nothing planned for the day, and nothing to do, so I decided to put on some clothes (always a good idea in the morning) and go for a little exploration of the campus since all I had seen so far was at night. I walked all over the campus, and I discovered that it is much like my yard at home; it has hibiscus, impatients, bougainvillea, yellow bougainvillea, an olive tree, and tangerine trees. Even though it is much like my backyard, it surpasses my backyard in coolness because it also has a banana tree and three or four humungous fig tress totally stocked with figs. Mom won't let me have fig trees at home because she doesn't like them, but now, I may not ever need another fig tree again in my life. I could take figs from these trees and be set for the rest of my life (Mom, that doesn't mean I don't still want a fig tree).

I kept on exploring, and accidentally stumbled on a trailhead on the school grounds, and of course I had nothing else to do, so I started climbing  on the trail. In about 20 minutes, I was standing on top of the hills I can see from my balcony. The view was absolutely breathtaking. Not only could I see the Mediterranean Sea on the horizon, but I could also see the school, the orange groves, most if not all of Sagunto, the Roman ruins on the hill, and part of Valencia as well. At that time, it was about 1:00, so I descended and reached the bottom in about 5 minutes.

Next thing on the agenda was lunchtime, something I was very thankful for. Remember when I talked about all of the olives between Madrid? I found out that they don't go all over Europe, but they must all go to Sagunto College. We had green olives in the salad, on the pizza, and just about anywhere else you could imagine, and we also had olive oil for salad dressing. It turns out my roommate, Erik Jensen, who I call Jensen so I don't confuse him with Eric Mathis, doesn't really like green olives. I don't really know how he will survive for the rest of the year.

After lunch, I took Jensen and my camera back up to the hills and took pictures of everything up there. It turns out that from that hill, you get a 360  degree view. On one side is the Mediterranean, on the other side is a mine of some kind complete with large dump trucks, and on two other sides, there are rolling hills with houses speckled throughout. We were only away from the dorm for about 20 minutes total, but we both came back sweating like pigs.

After our little adventure, I decided to cool down under a tree. I grabbed my hammock out of my room, strung it up in a huge Magnolia tree (I think), and read some of my Spanish books in preparation of tomorrow's placement test. After about an hour of reading and relaxing, I almost fell asleep, which I decided would not be a good idea because then I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. I got up and put my hammock back in my room, and wondered what to do from there. I wandered down the stairs wondering if I could ask the dean if I could go with him to pick up Josh and Eric, but when I reached the second floor of stairs, up come Josh and Eric with their suitcases in hand and backpacks on their backs. Actually, it wouldn't be suitcases, it would be suitcase; Josh's suitcase was lost somewhere between Ontario and Valencia. Josh was worried about his suitcase, but said that they said it would come tomorrow. Eric, on the other hand, was as giddy as a school girl the whole day thinking about how his bike would arrive from customs tomorrow as well, and said today that his bike riding is an addiction.
Of course we all new this already, but admitting you have a problem is always the first step to recovery.

Interestingly enough, for dinner, they served salad, cereal, yogurt, and fruit, lots of fruit. They also had mashed potatoes and meatloaf that was made Walla Walla style; cold and nasty. I had another big salad, meatloaf, which I will never get again, yogurt, a peach, a plum, and a wedge of pineapple. That's right, here in the calf they serve a huge wedge of pineapple, how cool is that? More olive oil and green olives were consumed tonight of course. My dad told me before I left that I might come back fatter, and after all of that olive oil, I don't doubt it now.

After dinner, Eric, Josh, Chelsea (a girl from Walla Walla whom I had met there) and I sat around the gazebo area and talked for a while.


A little while ago, we were all just sitting around in the room minding our own businesses when the biggest grasshopper I have ever seen in my life flew into our room from the open balcony door and we all got very excited. Within a few minutes, I was able to get the trash can over him and get him out with Josh's help, but I am starting to wonder if this year is going to be more like camping  than I was expecting.
It was a very full day, but now I need another shower because I sweated a lot while doing practically nothing.

Day of arrival at the college 9-14-11

After a wonderful two day stay in Madrid, filled with walking, looking, picture taking, and museum going, it was time to leave. Vanessa and I started out really early in the morning because our bus was supposed to depart at 10:45 from a station that was a few metro stops away. We left the hostile around 8:15 or so, so that we would have plenty of time to get to where we needed to go and hopefully have time to spare. Luckily today, all of the stairs in the metro had escalators to accompany them so we didn't have to do anything ridiculously strenuous like the first day on the metro.

We arrived at the bus stop about an hour and a half before the bus was supposed to leave, and waited. About 15 minutes before the bus was supposed to leave, we found out that the station our bus was heading to, called Valencia- San Juan, was actually in a city west of Madrid, when we wanted to go east to the coast. We are very fortunate that Vanessa was able to ask an old couple for help, and they helped set us straight. After this, we obviously did not board the bus, but found the help desk where Vanessa asked where we could buy a bus ticket, and the lady told her that we need to go about half the length of one of the metro lines to a stop that connected with the bus station for longer distance rides. So on the metro we went again, and finally got to the stop at about 11:15, and by 11:30, it was my turn to do some talking. I walked up to the ticket agent and asked for two tickets to Valencia in the best Spanish I could, and it wasn't pretty, but she understood me the first time, which is a blessing, because since we have been here, with the accent, I have hardly understood anything. A train was supposed to depart from Madrid at 12:00, and just when the agent was about to make the transaction, she checked again and told me that that train was full, and the next train to Valencia would be at 3:00. I bought 2 tickets for 3:00 from Madrid to Valencia.

We sat at the bus station from 11:45 to 2:45 and caught some Z's, read some books, and looked around. Finally, the bus left, with us on it. We were very lucky today, the ticket agent told me that we could take on 30 kilos per person, and I don't know about Vanessa, but I had about twice that amount. Luckily, packing those lower bus compartments looked a lot like choir tour; total chaos, and no one would have had any way of figuring out whose 30 kilo's belong to who, so we definitely slipped by there.

On the bus, it was some of the most beautiful countryside I had ever seen. I saw three types of crops growing on the way; sunflowers, grapes, and olives. The vineyards made me swear I was in a combination of Napa CA, and Palm Springs CA. If that doesn't make sense to you, imagine a beautiful vineyard out in the middle of the desert. It was beautiful, and weird at the same time. What really surprised me, though, was the olives. We have a relatively small -ish olive tree in our front yard, and that produces enough olives in one year for the entire neighborhood to have their fill and then some; I picked a huge bowl last year to cure, and that didn't even put a dent in the number on the tree. Here, there were rolling hills and fields full of huge olive trees in perfect rows- just like the vineyards. If one tree could feed our neighborhood, then they must have enough olives each year between Madrid and Valencia to feed all of Europe and most of Africa as well. By the way, if you are considering taking up a lost art for a hobby, try curing olives- I am sure my parents would be happy to fix you up with more than you'd ever want, because every one that goes with you, avoids its sometimes eternal nap on the sidewalk below.

There was a woman sitting on the train about two seats up from me who was trying to sleep. When we made a short stop to get gas and a restroom stop, she turned around, and I only got a quick glance at her, but I could have swore that it was Rachel Tohm. I literally thought for a brief second that Rachel was in Europe for some reason even though she should be at Walla Walla right now. It surprised me, and scared me as well. A little while later, I got a better look at her, and I realized that the hair and most of the face was identical, but this lady's eyes made her look too Avatar-ish to be Rachel.
We finally rolled into the bus station around 7:20, called the director at the school using a payphone, and had a seat. The director told us that it would be a half-hour or so. At 9:15 we decided to call him back because we were still sitting there. He told us that someone was already in Valencia, and they would be there in 10 minutes or less. Within 5 the boys director arrived in a sweet European Opel van that I had only seen in movies. Of course, the boys director had a huge accent, so understanding him was tough, but we eventually got through. We drove back to the college, and I met my roommate who's name is Erik from Seattle Washington. Erik attends La Sierra University, and I attend Walla Walla; we had plenty to talk about because I school in his home; he schools in mine. My room is fairly tiny, but so are all the other ones. What makes up for the tiny room is the balcony with a view of the hills behind the school, and a tiny bit of the city.  I broke out a sweat for no reason whatsoever; it is just really hot here. Now, it is late. I need to shave, shower, and hit the sack.

The first day in Spain 9-12-11

Our first day in Spain went something like this; Our flight from New York left two hours late, but somehow we still managed to land at the same time we were originally supposed to in Madrid. Janessa (my in-between step from learning to call her Vanessa from Jesse) slept the whole way from New York to Madrid except for about the last half hour or so, but luckily, we all had personal TVs with movies, shows, and music. Listening to the music on the plane, I discovered that I really like a new song by Yanni called Truth of Touch, and after two episodes of Big Bang Theory, one episode of Mike and Molly, one hilarious episode of #$%^ My dad says, and Pirates of the Caribbean 4, I got a few hours of sleep myself.
While in route from Houston to New York, Janessa and I sat next to a student who was also studying in Spain but lives in Mexico. His name was Jorge. Jorge was very fun to talk to (or at least try to talk to), because he was very knowledgeable about the language, and had a sweet accent. He was very helpful in teaching us the correct ways to say some words, and teaching us some new ones as well.

After arriving at the airport, going through customs, and grabbing our bags, we went to the information booth to ask what the best way to find our hostel would be. We forgot to write down the address, so she told us she couldn't help us until we found out what our address was, and told us to go to where there was internet and find it, but of course she had a look on her face that seemed to say "stupid tourists". So we walked, and walked, and walked until we found another information desk that was closer to the internet spot and asked where to find it. She told us to just keep on going. Wonderful. So we walked some more and some more until we finally came to the internet place where we were able to pay 1 euro for 10 minutes of internet time on a computer that must have been from the 90s. With just enough time to spare, we found out the address, and some other information we needed. The night before we left, one of my high school math teachers, Miss Mumper, who has been to Spain several times, told me to go the information desk and grab a free map of Madrid. I forgot all about getting a map until we were in the middle of surfing that 90s beauty, so after we got our hostel information, we walked back to the closest information booth to ask for a map. They told us that only the information booth furthest away had the maps (Murphy's law at work). We walked all the way back to the original tourist information booth, which seemed like a mile away, and asked for a map. The gentleman there gave us one, and when we asked for one more, so that each of us could have one, he gave us that same "you stupid tourists" look that the woman gave us before. He is the one who works in the tourist booth, who's fault is that?

We also asked where the metro was, and it turned out it was in the same direction we just came, just about twice as far as we had to walk for the internet. We reached the metro station just before my legs would have fallen off. Our metro ride was pretty smooth except for when my suitcase wheels got stuck between the edge of the platform and the metro itself when I tried to pull it up, but luckily there was a very nice gentleman there to help me out of that potentially dangerous situation. Other challenges of the metro ride included having to navigate three different train switches, as well as a few flights of stairs. That's right, we hauled our 40 and 50 pound bags up about 30 steps at a time with nearly the same amount of weight in our backpacking backpacks. Up until today, I thought backpacking with Pastor Ken was the most strenuous thing I have ever done physically. Turns out Mather Pass and the John Muir Trail have nothing on 30 steps of sheer heaven. When we finally got out of the Metro, it was luckily only about a five minute walk to the hostel. I was sweating when we got to the hostel, and just when I thought I was done lugging bags up stairs, my room was on the second floor, so my sweat doubled in about 30 seconds of more sheer heaven.

Janessa and I planned to shower, change, and go for a walk around town. It turned out that I showered, changed, took a detour to meeting Janessa by becoming better aquanted with my bed, and two hours later, when I went to go find Janessa, she was asleep as well. Janessa is on the girls floor; I am on the boys floor, and of course we can't go to each others' floors. It hit me then that we had no phones and no way to contact each other directly except for our computers, so I sent her a facebook message, and luckily, within five minutes, she replied.
We eventually did go out for a very nice walk around town, but it wasn't all roses. While we were walking, an older man walked very close behind us. When we stopped to look at something, he stopped. Janessa had a fairly large handbag, and I had my camera with me. I was watching him the whole time, so eventually, Janessa and I stepped to the side, turned around, and looked directly at the man. He stopped, looked back at us, looked away, and kept walking along casually. We ended up buying dinner at a supermarket, and since we were both extremely tired, we at a quick meal of bread with cheese, and apples. We both agreed to sleep-in quite a bit the next day.