Spanish Conversation

Spanish Conversation            

One of the very first encounters I had was my first ever visit to a discothèque During with a few of my classmates. During a break from the very vibrant dance floor We Were Approached by a group of male Spaniards. As my friends Were talking to a few of them, one of the evils (name unknown) Approached me and we held a complete Spanish conversation for about five minutes. I have asked me some interesting questions vary. The first was if i could understand if I was complementing me in Spanish and of course I said "If intendio". Then I went off and called me "pretty of of" which is Spanish slang for "hot". I then started just laugh and said "Thank you." Then the questions took a very strange turn into if I've ever kissed another girl and That was just completely strange and i told him I'm not interested in women and I tried changing the subject if I spoke to any English but That didn ' t seem to work. So after my friends conversation That Were getting ready to leave and i told him goodbye and I have told me to stay back With Him Which made me uncomfortable but I was glad my friends Could take me away safely. It was still very fun and probably the most fun I've had in awhile to experience a complete conversation about random things with someone in a different language.

Vivian Jauregui:: Mi Interacción

When it comes to having interactions with people in a foreign country... there is a barrier that one needs to surpass and that is being comfortable with being vulnerable. I have absolutely loved the personal interactions I've had with almost every person. Almost eight years ago when I visited Tarragona, Spain I have noticed that people in Madrid are exceptionally understanding and considerate of what you're are trying to communicate with them, not to mention patient. Yesterday, on the fifth of June, Jade, Kao and I were walking around Puerta del Sol and we came upon a little market square that seems to be there every single day from ten in the morning until eleven at night, determined workers. We immediately went to this leather bag stand that had three walls covered in hand-made leather bags, backpacks, ect. There we met Mohamed. A very kind man from Africa who spoke spanish with both french and arabic. He was soft spoken, kind hearted and over friendly to all three of us. He wasn't your typical market vendor who screamed you over to look at his merchandise but just sat there in the midst of all his hard work. He had the cuts, scrapes and calluses to prove it. We exchanged a ton little stories about how he wants to move to the Americas because of the economy decline out here in Madrid. He actually has a friend coming back to Madrid from California in the next couple weeks but he's not able to go back with him because he doesn't have a visa. It was comical because he doesn't want to bother getting a visa to go and live out there, he just wants to go but knows that he can't without one. Jade and I finally made our final decisions on which leather bags we wanted to get and Mohamed was sweet enough to cut the straps at the length we wanted, payed him, gave me a free SIM card for my phone, exchanged information on scraps of cardboard and we were on our way. There were so many kind people on that square, I enjoyed every second of it. A city janitor decided that he wanted to come and see Boulder for himself and another dried fruit vendor knew how to talk and gussy up every woman that passed. Great memories.

Day 1

Dear Journal,

            This week I have had countless interactions with the locals of Madrid, none of which I understood that well, except for one. Landing in Madrid, I was worried about how I was going to find my way to ACCENT from the airport. While in baggage claim, I read my novel. A couple minutes into the book, a girl I recognized from the same flight walked up to me, “I love that book! Can’t wait for the third one to come out.” I put the book down and we started talking. Her name was Iulia Alguacil, she lives and studies in Madrid but was taking time off of academia to travel around the United States. After picking up our bags, she asked whether I needed any help getting into town. Feeling relieved, I immediately took her on her offer. Maneuvering our way through the crowd of people, we eventually got to the exit where I met Iulia’s mother. She did not speak English, so Iulia became our translator. We hopped on the metro heading for Sol; while waiting to get to our destination Iulia’s mother offered me breakfast. At that point my stomach was growling to the point where I felt the people sitting across from me could hear, thus I accepted her kind offer. I could tell both of them heard my stomach growl by the way they giggled. Once we arrived we took a picture with the bear and the tree and headed over to a small coffee shop a few blocks away. There, they taught me Spanish terms/customs I should know and talked about the places I should visit. Before departing Iulia gave me contact information and reassured me that if I needed anything I could call her. Before taking the train to ACCENT, I came in to shake her hand goodbye, but she shook her head and gave me the Spanish gesture of kissing both sides of my cheek. Being new to this custom, I blushed and walked away waving farewell. 

!••∆••!

Dear Study Abroad Madrid Blog

            This week I interacted with a Spaniard who was quite knowledgeable about skateboarding locations, culture, and public opinion. We arrived at what seemed like a local dive bar after enjoying a delicious inexpensive tapas meal at a place called El Tigre. After enjoying a few drinks socially, I stepped outside to destroy my lungs with cigarette smoke. This is where I met Eduardo Fierro Gomez, a kind souled skateboarder who likes any opportunity to speak English. Eduardo and I conversed for a while about all things skateboarding: best places to go, how the police feel, where it is safe, and which tricks we can do down the hubba three set. Eduardo enjoyed speaking English and helping me learn some important Spanish skate slang to help me get around Madrid skate culture successfully. We parted ways.

•∆• Ryan Weisz  •∆•

El Quitasol

Yesterday while walking along the streets of Sol, Meli and I chatted paying little attention to the shops we passed until turning back to realize the rest of the group had disappeared. A brief flash of panic momentarily swelled in the pit of my stomach.  Rapidly my eyes scanned the crowd. Finally falling onto Vivian's delighted smile. She excitedly waved us into a shop they had stopped at.

Then entrance reminded me of those on The Hill back home, with glass paneling encasing windows and creating a small hallway before the entrance to the shop. The mannequins emitted a similar vibe, memory and observation tricking my brain into thinking it was a simple second-store. Those preconceptions quickly vanished and for a moment the world seemed to melt away. Dressed in targets skirts and college T-shirts we stepped through a portal into the world of only seen by Princesses and the rich bankers that live in the million dollar flats with views of El Parque De Retiro.

It was like entering a museum. I stood marveled but scared to touch what seemed to scream, "STROKE ME!" The walls of the furrier were covered with lavish jackets and furs straight out of Goya's El Quitasol. The attendant approached us. Apprehensive that he would yell and force us out. Instead, through my broken understanding of Spanish, he help pick out furs for Jade, Vivian, and I to try on! He spoke to us about the furs and did his best animal impressions for our delight and understanding. Nine thousand Euros may be slightly out of our budgets for this trip, but for a moment we radiated with elegance and light as if painted by Goya himself. Now only to find Kao a parasol...

My favorite moment this week was listening to the first musician play on the metro car. 

The Real Life Flower Lady

My mom called me flower girl when I was little because I told her that when I grew up, I wanted to be "a flower lady." I was enraptured by all floral shops, and told everyone that the family garden was my garden. The Royal Botanical Gardens are simply gorgeous, and walking around breathing the fresh air, and enjoying the sight of many Spanish families out for the evening took me back to the time when I had to be only 3 or 4 and I pretended that my dreams could bring flowers into being. I met a woman who had that job that I still see as a sort of fantasy, but for her was her living. Josefa worked in the Real Jardin Botanica for many years until the economic crisis forced those in charge to let go many of the gardeners. Now her and her husband make their living selling pressed flowers at the El Raestro on Sundays, their beautiful works that are so obviously made with care and passion are being sold for a pittance. It was sobering to see, but I am glad I spoke with her. I could not leave without purchasing a frame of daffodils, my favorite flowers and wishing Josefa luck.

My favorite moment this week was watching the sun set across from the royal palace.

Madrid Zoo