Latin America Minus Latin America

A little bit of background info:

I left my heart in the heart of Argentina. And I didn’t even know it until I was gone.

I know what you’re thinking: that instead of writing this blog I should quit school, run away to Buenos Aires and write Tango songs until the day I die. Maybe I will...

The point is, many of my observations about Spain are going to come from a mind that is infatuated with Latin America, specifically Argentina and even including Ecuador (even though most of you know I didn't have such a grand time there), so these observations might have a unique lean.

To me, Spain is a can of rich and seductive red paint, but Latin America is the dynamic mural on the wall that got covered up by that same red paint. Despite Spain's lengthy and complicated history, I find myself searching for this missing depth that in Latin America both freed and burdened me. 

Perhaps I cannot develop as close a relationship to Spain as I have to Latin America, but that does not mean that I cannot develop a good and nurturing one while here. It is my belief that countries are as complex and emotional as people, seeing as how people have such a large impact on the social structures and organizations of a country, and it could be that Spain and I are friendly roommates now that will end up very good friends. As with Latin America, we are close siblings that love each other so much that when we fight it's because we want to improve each other. But every relationship teaches something else about both parties involved and I am truly excited to see what I do get out of my relationship with Spain, however simple it begins. 

Shaking All The Boring Out Of My Bathing Suit

Today is day 13 of 119 and because school started later than expected (teepical espanish, as my Spanish friend/ex professor says regarding everything) I have been on a 13 day vacation. Though it wasn’t the plan (alas! Is it ever?) I have spent most of my time doing a lot of nothing. Here goes, 13 days in one sentence:

I arrived and briskly made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm, went to the beach, made friends, went out drinking and dancing, slept until 3 pm. 

Is that a run-on sentence? Anyway, I left a few nights out because some nights I went out to dinner with ex-professor V and friend A, roommates Manuela and Eustaquia aka Lorena (teepical espanish names; I am Paca, somehow short for Francesca) and went for a drive to a nice nearby city with pretty views. Oops, that was two sentences wasn’t it? Oh but wait, I left out a very important detail! These past 12 days I have also eaten a butt load (haha! Literally!) of this:

Brief observations I have made during my vacation: 

1. Americans have a drinking problem (no, Mom and Dad, I am not telling you I have a drinking problem via public blog! It’s simply that “having a few drinks” here means literally that when “having a few drinks” in many places in the USA means “losing count of how many drinks I have because I am drinking as fast as I can through a tube until I can’t see”)
2. The stereotype that life in Spain moves slower is so beautifully true.
3. The fanny-pack is back????

That was only three observations but as I said before: I am on vacation. 

To make your reading this post worthwhile, here are some pretty pictures to look at, some from one day I did go exploring, during a holiday called Feria, others of interesting things in and around Málaga. By the way, originally Feria was a celebration of Spanish culture, specifically Flamenco dance, but it seemed to me like a week-long Mardi Gras!

Stay tuned for more fruitful reflections as school starts tomorrow...supposedly.

Como Se Dice "Cheeseburger and Fries"?

Well, I finally did it. I broke my big promise.

Let me start from the beginning. During geographical formation of the Earth the part of the ocean which we now call the Mediterranean Sea bit off a chunk of land at the bottom of a country we now call Spain. When people came around and decided they liked the idea of living near such a clear, blue sea they did so, and created a series of cities making up the famous Costa del Sol that line this Mediterranean beach, one of which we now call Málaga. As aesthetics were always important to the Europeans, most  homes were painted white and thatched with red brick roofs and telephone wires were constructed underground. Something that turned out to look a bit like this and this:

But if we look a little closer we can see all the dirtier details of urbanization and capitalism, poignantly displayed by the large Burger King nestled comfortably inward from the coast. A few people dot the edges of said Burger King, but if we look inside we see that hypocrisy stands self-consciously looking around the room like a shamed child with a secret. Actually, it would just be me standing in line awaiting my cheeseburger and fries. 

When I was 17 I made my first trip to Spain and as I sat at a café eating my chocolate croissant and drinking my Irish coffee I secretly reprimanded my fellow American travelers for going to Burger King for lunch instead. It was then that I made that promise to myself, that I would never eat at an American fast food chain while abroad; why do so when each country’s food is so important to their culture? Not to mention delicious. Temptation is everywhere, but I was successful then, and again while living in Argentina, and again in Ecuador. 

So why now? Why, one week into my four month semester abroad in southern Spain have I caved? Early onset of homesickness? My growing awareness that I like more about the USA than I had thought? Or was it simply that I was very hungry, didn’t have much money, and needed to grab some quick food to go? Likely, since I came up with them, a combination of the three, but the simple fact is my God it felt good to eat.

So there you have it. Two weeks in and 15 more to go, Burger King trip total: 1. 

Hop on board, if you will, as I navigate my way through southern Spain, it’s school system, and my own confused soul through the mainstream art of blogging. And I promise you now that each post will not be about broken promises. 

P.S. “Cheeseburger and Fries” in Spanish is still “Cheeseburger and Fries,” it just sounds pretty hilarious.