I love Italy!

And that's all I have time to write, because I'm at an Internet cafe with 20 seconds left...but I'll get back to you all soon! :)

ROME!

I'M IN ROME!  If arriving in Spain felt surreal, this is...surreal-er.  (Words escape me.)

I'm staying in a hotel that's within walking distance of most of the big sites...so far I have seen the Trevi Fountain, the Roman forum, the Spanish Steps (Piazza di Spagna, or something like that)...of course I had to have my Audrey Hepburn moment, and eat gelato on the Spanish Steps...I made some poor Australian guy take my picture.  It was so much fun...I think I might go do the same thing tomorrow! 

I don't mind being on my own here, but it will be nice when I meet up with my tour group on Thursday.  I'll be able to see a lot more and actually converse with people in English.  I keep trying to speak Spanish here, but without much success.

That's all for now...I'm in the Eternal City, I don't want to sit inside typing!!!

Love to everyone!

P.S.  If anyone feels nice and wants to send my poor little brother a letter at boot camp (he'll be there until September), the address is:
Pvt. Mapes, Andrew
E 1st/19B FA 1st PLT
402 NE Southboundary Rd.
Fort Sill, OK  73503-8010

Disclaimer *

(At the request of my big sister, Erin...)
 
* Anything Angie does in Spain or Italy is independent of her older sister's influence and was not initiated, suggested, or endorsed by her older sister in any way, shape, or form.

When your heart's on fire, smoke gets in your eyes...

Yesterday afternoon I went to Concha's office in downtown Madrid so that we could go have lunch with her brother, Manolo, who works for the Congreso de los diputados (like our House of Representatives).  When I got to the office, Concha introduced me to her co-workers, including one American, David.  (He was coming to the Congreso with us.)
 
Concha told us that she'd heard on the news that there was a big fire near Atocha train station, which was where the March 11 terrorist attacks were.  We were really worried that it was something else like that, but it turned out to be just a huge fire in the electrical plant (and actually not even that close to the station). 
 
David, Concha and I hopped in the car and headed down to the Congreso, which happened to be in the same neighborhood as the fire.   The sun was out, but it seemed like a cloudy day because of the huge billows of smoke coming from the fire.  It was really an incredible sight...and we were stuck in traffic for quite some time, so we had a great view!  Of course, I stuck my head out of the car to take photos...Concha and David got a big kick out of it.  I felt like I should be rushing to the scene to interview witnesses...but I restrained myself.
 
Anyway, we FINALLY made it to the Congreso and met up with Manolo and had a nice lunch.  Concha's other brother, Fernando, is the one who always speaks English with me...but yesterday Manolo revealed that he speaks English, too!  The guy's been holding out on me!  
 
Manolo gave us a great tour of the parliament and we got to take photos on the speaker's podium.  It was so cool!  Afterward, Concha, David and I went to the Palace Hotel a few blocks away and splurged (well, Concha splurged for us) on Cokes.  (It's like a trendy thing to have drinks in the atrium of the Palace Hotel...)
 
That's about all my news...cannot believe that I only have a few more days here!  I'm going out tonight with the American girls...sans Pedro, but there are 3 million people in Madrid, so maybe I'll meet someone, who knows...  ;-)
 
More language-barrier incidents:
Elena, trying to say that Julia Roberts has "curly hair" -- "She has crazy head."
Ignacio, trying to say that his grandmother has a house -- "My grandmother is a house."  (ha!)
 
And here's a good one...Concha's host brother, Fernando, has been teaching English for about 12 years...the other day we were talking in English, and his 5-year-old son came over and just stood beside us.  All of a sudden, he blurted out in Spanish, "DAD! You speak English?" 

I bow to your superior knowledge...

Major kudos to my big sister for catching a typo in my journal...haha...I'm so proud, Erin! :-) Keep looking, I'm sure there are many more.

Going to visit the Spanish "Congreso" today with my host mother and her brother, who works there...will update soon!

Elvis has left the building...

I cannot believe that in less than a week, I'll be in ITALY!!!

Anyway...Pedro called me yesterday (Tuesday), and unfortunately he had too much to do in preparation for his job interview to go out last night...such as renting a car. (Did I mention he has a motorcycle? and yes, I rode it...but with a helmet!) But at least I have his address and e-mail address, so we can stay in touch. (Besides, I'm going to Italy...bring on the Italians!)

Not much else to report, except that I worked out my schedule for my final week here...it looks roughly like this:
04 Aug. Arrive in Madrid from Italy (evening)
05 Aug. Madrid
06 Aug. Granada
07 Aug. Granada
08 Aug. Seville
09 Aug. Seville
10 Aug. Córdoba
11 Aug. Madrid
12 Aug. Madrid
13 Aug. Plane leaves Madrid at 11:50 a.m. for CHICAGO :-)

Rico Suave exits stage right

Hey everyone!! Thanks again for all the e-mails, letters, comments...I love reading them!

Today is the start of my final week with my host family! I can't believe how fast time is flying. It makes me sad, but then again, I can't wait to see Italy and eventually (in about a month) set foot on Hoosier soil again.

As for updates...yesterday, I didn't do a whole lot. Homework, gave the kids their lessons, went to the pool to (unsuccessfully) work on my tan. My host mother's brother, Fernando (the English-speaking one!), his wife, Carmen, and their three boys came over and we all had a nice chat. I played a little soccer with their youngest, Miguel, who is about 6 years old. Good times. :-)

After dinner, my parents called me and we had a nice chat. Then as I hung up the phone, it rang again, and it was Pedro! (a.k.a. Rico Suave) If you recall, he's a lawyer, but currently unemployed...he has a job interview in the south of Spain later this week, so he's leaving Wednesday for 2 weeks! (He's staying down there for a little vacation...because these Spaniards like to mix business with pleasure whenever possible.)

Anyway, we had a nice little chat, and he told me he'd call me around lunchtime today to maybe go out this evening...and then that will probably be the end of Pedro, unless I see him my last week here (Aug. 4-Aug. 13). As I said before, I need a Spanish boyfriend like a whole in my head. ;-) But it's too bad, because he's just super. (Or as my good pal Rita said, "All the Pete's I've ever known were really swell guys!" lol)

Anyway, I've been told my last post about Pedro was sort of ambiguous...so I don't want to give anyone the wrong impression. I just didn't feel like typing anymore. :-)

One heck of a FIESTA!

I'll attempt to describe this last weekend, which was full of bull...wish me luck!

Friday night, we went to a bullfight here in Madrid, in Plaza de Toros. It was an amateur one, so the tickets were dirt-cheap, which was fine with me!

What an experience. I’m still not sure whether I would classify it as art or animal cruelty, but then, I didn’t go to judge, just to watch.

The actual killing of the bull is drawn-out, usually 15 to 20 minutes, and painful to watch. Men on horseback drive lances into the bull and other men on foot charge at the bull and attempt to stab banderillas into the bull's neck. Then the matador comes out and does his dance.

The first matador we saw got a little too close to the bull’s horns and had to be carried out of the ring! We’re not sure what the extent of his injuries were. The second bullfight we saw was mediocre, but the third was pretty good. The matador was very brave (or stupid, depending on your school of thought) and killed the bull very quickly. (To my cousin Jason: The third matador got to keep the ear! I’m glad they didn’t try to give it to me.)

Before the bullfight, we had gone to dinner...not sure if that was such a great idea or not! My favorite Spaniard, Pedro, called me during dinner and told me his plans for the evening had been cancelled, so did I want to go out later? So after the bullfight, we met up with Pedro (whom one of my American friends dubbed “Rico Suave”) and Pedro and I went out for drinks and had a really nice time! :-)

*PAMPLONA*
Now the real fun begins...as if we hadn’t gotten our fill of bulls yet. Saturday afternoon, we (myself and 6 other Americans who are working as English tutors) boarded a bus to Pamplona. The bus ride was LONG and around half past 8, we arrived in Pamplona. The nightlife doesn’t even start until after midnight in Spain, so we called my acquaintance from Franklin College, Andoni, who was in Pamplona for the fiesta. A couple of us went with Andoni and his friend, Jon, to buy frozen pizzas and refreshments for the crew, then we hung out in Jon’s apartment until about 1. There were two other friends there, Miguel and a guy we just called “What’s-his-name” because it was too hard to remember.

Jon’s apartment was about a 15-minute walk from downtown Pamplona. On the way downtown, we stopped at an outdoor concert and danced for a while. I have never seen such a wild, crazy party! Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in white with red scarves or belts (myself included, although I think I looked more Irish than Spanish). The streets were littered with bottles, cups, and the occasional passed-out drunk. As my cousin Jason wrote, “I imagine it will be like Hemingway in the 20's, having drinks, watching bulls run, more drinks, and then some drinks.” Jason was on the mark. We made our way from one bar to another, although we didn’t even drink in the bars because it was expensive. Whenever we left one bar to go to another, Andoni made us hold hands so we didn’t get separated. (My friends called him “Coach” all night.) The streets were absolutely packed with people, and the bars were worse... but not so bad that we couldn’t dance, of course!! Everyone happy, laughing, having a great time, people from all over the world.

We danced, and danced...and danced. Around 3:30, some of the girls wanted to go back to the apartment and sleep. My new best friend Andoni and I walked them back and then met up with his friends again. (I couldn’t bring myself to sleep...how many times will I be in Pamplona for San Fermin!?) So we all danced some more...

Finally around 6 a.m., even though the party was still going strong, we made the journey back to the apartment. (We = What’s-his-name, Miguel, Andoni, me, and two of the American girls, Rebecca and Alitsia.) It was already light outside! Our feet were so tired we could barely walk, so we collapsed on the stoop...and then our friends were so dead asleep in the apartment that it took a good 15 minutes of buzzing before someone woke to let us in! When we finally got inside, we roused the troops, gathered our cameras, and headed downtown for the encierro...the running of the bulls...because, oh yeah, wasn’t that the reason we came to Pamplona?

We headed back downtown, looking a little worse for wear. We were a little late to get good seats to watch the bulls. I could see over people’s heads, but my vertically-challenged friends weren’t quite so fortunate. It was over so fast! Around 8 a.m., we heard a shot that indicated the bulls had been released from the corrals, and then another that meant they were running. A few seconds later, we saw them stampede by, and the crazy runners in white and red, either dashing past or diving for cover. Pretty much the way it looks on TV! Andoni ran with the bulls, but we couldn’t see him in the mad crush of bodies...he said it was somewhat anti-climatic because he wasn’t that close to any bulls. (Crazy kid!!)

Around 9 a.m., we bid farewell to Pamplona, What’s-his-name, Coach, Jon and Miguel...after another LONG bus ride we made it to Madrid, then I caught the Metro, then another bush home, and came dragging into the house around 4 p.m. I was still wearing the black pants and white shirt I’d had on all night in Pamplona, now sporting about 5 drinks that had been spilled on me and who knows what else. And still wearing my red sash like a true pilgrim to Sanfermines. My feet were covered in grunge, the cuffs of my pants, too...I have never felt so in need of a shower! My host mother and Elena were the only ones home, and they got a huge kick out of my looking like a homeless wino.

At the end of San Fermin, everyone sings a song called “Pobre de mi,” and the lyrics basically mean “poor me, I survived Sanfermines”...now I can completely relate. I slept from 7 p.m. last night until 8:30 this morning! But what a wild, fun weekend! I had an absolute blast. I don’t think I’ve even come close to describing what it was like in the journal, but I hope I’ve given you some idea. I can’t wait to get my film developed!

Climbing walls!

To those of you interested in the running of the bulls, here's a little history. I'm actually only going to be there for one running. Our trip is July 10-11.

To those of you who have written me e-mails recently -- I'll get back with you soon, I promise!

In other news of note:

Today I met a friend of Concha’s named Ignacio (another one!) who is a reporter for El Pais, Spain’s leading newspaper. We had coffee at a sidewalk café, with the idea that I would interview him, but I think he asked just as many questions – a true reporter! And his English was better than my Spanish, so we spoke in English...thank the Lord. All this Spanish is exhausting sometimes.

Ignacio’s worked at El Pais almost since the paper started (in 1976) and is now in his late 40s. Now he covers northern Africa, especially Morocco, and goes down to Africa at least once a month! (And my mom worries when I work in Indianapolis...) But he was really interesting and helpful. He is going to send me some more information about the paper.

Change of subject: Yesterday, I took a day trip (by myself, sorry Mom) to the city of Ávila. Partly because I wanted to see the city, but also because I have family in Avilla, Ind.! Victor dropped me off at the train station in Madrid on his way to work. What an experience I had in the train station trying to figure out where to buy my ticket, which train to take, etc.! The place is a bit of a zoo. But I managed.

Ávila is 1 hr. 15 min. by train, and from the train station in Ávila, it’s a 10-minute walk downtown. (Or so my guidebook tells me...It’s more like 20 minutes for people who don’t know exactly where they’re going and are too stubborn to look at the map, trying instead to prove that they really DO have an inner sense of direction.)

But anyway, downtown is impossible to miss, because it’s surrounded by a medieval wall! The wall is huge, and was built by Muslims and Romans in the 11th and 12th centuries. I climbed a rough stone staircase to the top of the wall and walked about a kilometer around the city. It was so cool!!! Not great if you’re afraid of heights ...but I’m not.

After that, I bought postcards and gifts for my grandparents, and stopped by the post office to mail the cards. I had lunch and visited a couple museums of local history, and walked around to admire the architecture. Then I went to the cathedral, which is just inside the city wall and apparently is one of the earliest Gothic churches in Spain. Unfortunately, there is a temporary museum exhibit inside of religious art – which is really interesting, but it covers up the interior of the cathedral itself! I was somewhat disappointed, but what can you do?

Another change of subject. Anyone who knows me probably knows my interest (obsession) with sports cars. Spain’s attitude toward cars is interesting to me. In general, at least here in the city, even really nice cars aren’t well-taken care of. They park on the street and bang their doors into other cars or railings (my personal pet peeve). The most common marques are Renault, Volvo, Volkswagen, Citroën, Peugeot, Nissan, Toyota, Fiat, Hyundai...mostly small, not-so-exciting cars.

However, I see at least two or three Porsches every day! So far only two Porsche 911s, but a lot of Porsche Carreras. There are also many Audis, Mercedes, and a bevy of BMWs, but I can take or leave those. I am pleased to announce that I have seen quite a few Ferraris, including a red convertible today (*huge sigh of longing*). I have only seen TWO Corvettes since I’ve been here…and one was a 4th-generation, painted a sparkly (read: garish) teal, so I’m not sure it even counts.

Anyway...anyone who took the time to read the above two paragraphs had to have been EXTREMELY bored. I salute your devotion to my online journal. :-)

Vaya con Dios, mi hermano...

Hope you all had a safe and happy July 4th...speaking of, I ate some sandía (watermelon) after lunch in honor of that great holiday...then I joined up with my American friends Laura and Ashley to watch the soccer match between Portugal and Greece. We made a toast with our cervezas to our great nation. :) The game itself was a bit disappointing...I was pulling for Portugal, our friendly neighbor here on the Iberian peninsula. (I´ve determined that the Portugal/Spain relationship mirrors the Canada/USA one -- they like to make fun of one another, but there´s mutual respect there.)

Not much else to note, except that my baby brother left for basic training today...and I didn´t get to talk to him before he left! (I messed up the days and thought he was leaving on the 8th.) I´m so proud of him. Please say a little prayer for our troops...and my mom, who has an empty nest now. (Time to call the Great Pam Hunt and sign up for those belly-dancing lessons now, Mom!!! hahaha)

And...belated props to Jason for another great Cubs update... AND major kudos to my pals Jill and Brad! For those of you who don´t know, two of my friends from Franklin are working with the Peace Corps...Jill is in Paraguay, and her brother Brad is in Uzbekistan. Imagine my surprise and happiness to receive e-mails from both of them last week! I promise I´ll write you both back soon, and you are both in my prayers. :)

Sure, I love plumbers...

Happy birthday, Michele!

Comic relief: Victor (my host father) likes to try to speak English with me during our evening meals. However, it's been about 10 years since he studied English, so his English can be even more interesting than my Spanish. For example, tonight he told me to put my food on an "ashtray" to carry it to the patio (instead of a "tray")...and then he asked me if I'd like a "plumber" ("plum") for dessert!

Hope you all had a safe and happy Independence Day!

Un refrano

A little advice, from Spain and me, to all of you...

Le dijo el mosquito a la rana
Más vale morir en vino
Que vivir en agua. -Quevedo

(For those of you who are Spanish-challenged: Said the mosquito to the frog / It is better to die in wine / Than to live in water.)

Ashley and I saw this quote on a plaque in Segovia last weekend, and we decided it´s a good life philosophy. No, not to be taken literally -- I don´t think it means one should drink all the time. But it means live in the moment, go places, carpe diem and all that jazz. (Bear with me...it´s after midnight here!)

If I could share a glimpse of Spanish life with all of you, I would have chosen tonight. Concha unfortunately had to go to a party, but Victor, Elena, Ignacio and I had dinner together...around 10 p.m., which doesn´t even faze me anymore. (Apparently I´ve assimilated.)

We ate on the patio. Ignacio set the table with yellow and blue placemats and and candles and pretty white and blue plates. (I don´t think this family even owns paper plates.) Our meal was really simple, just pizza and salad, but it was a beautiful, warm night and the conversation was lively. It reminded me of my first night here, when we had a similar meal, except now I really feel at home with the family, free to joke around and be part of the conversation. It really made me realize, as well, how much my Spanish has improved since I arrived, when I compared how much of the conversation I followed tonight (virtually all of it) to my first night here. Of course, it also made me miss my own family, but I´ve really been blessed to be with these people.

Forgive me if I wax a little poetic. I can assure you it´ll be even worse when I go to Italy!

As for updates on my amazing and exciting adventures (ha) today I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum in Madrid...and isn´t that one heck of a name?! It was formed from a huge private collection by some rich German-Hungarian family, my guidebook tells me. Anyway, on my way inside, I became acquainted with two British ladies in their thirties on vacation ("on holiday") and we decided to tour the museum together. Their names were Cathy and Louise. It was a great time. They said things like "blimey" and "bloke" and generally kept me in stitches. Afterward, we stopped at a sidewalk café and had coffee and cake. Yay for new friends!

And speaking of new friends...I was just kidding about marrying the Spanish policeman, Manolo. IF I were to marry a Spaniard, it´d be Pedro. (I know, try to keep up. Sometimes I get confused, too.)

Who, you might ask, is Pedro? I met him earlier this week in Madrid...he´s 25, a lawyer (but currently unemployed) and cute as all get-out. We´re talking tall, dark, and handsome, here. And...he speaks English! Don´t worry, folks, I have my head on straight. And I won´t come back married! (haha, Lyndsey!) But as the mosquito said to the frog... ;-)