notes on attending a university abroad...

I realized that 99% of my blogs so far has been about trips I’ve taken on the weekends since coming to Spain, but believe it or not, I’m in school as well. AND I even go to class. Consistently, in fact. Since I’ve hardly discussed my classes in my blogs, I figured now is a good time to start, to at least ease my parents’ minds that I am in fact, getting something academic out of my 3 months here. (Also Mom and Dad, just wanted to clarify that when I bought beer off the street in Barcelona it was:
1. My friend Brian’s idea
2. In a sealed can, and
3. It was the first COLD beer I’d had in weeks, otherwise I wouldn’t have wanted it)

anyway...
I’m in Spanish class every morning, Monday through Friday, at 9:30 in the morning. All of us from Cal Poly are taking grammar, oral expression, and culture classes, completely in Spanish taught by the Castilian spanish-speaking professors from the Universidad de Valladolid. Needless to say, day one was quite intimidating. My mind is exhausted every day after class; I’ve gotten far too used to Cal Poly, where one lecture class only requires about 5 hours of time in class a week and then lots of reading and homework outside of the the classroom. And usually no class on Fridays. This quarter, with just my Spanish classes alone, I’m in a classroom speaking and being taught Spanish 20 hours a week.
My grammar teacher is incredibly smart, and very good about speaking only in Spanish but still in ways that we can understand completely, but I get the vibe more often than not that she doesn’t enjoy teaching us. I assume it’s because I’m in the lowest-level Spanish class, and can only imagine she sees it as an insult that she has to teach us dummies who didn’t bother learning the language before coming here. It’s an exaggeration I’m sure, but that’s just the impression I get.
Ruth is my oral expression teacher, and she’s a kick. She has more energy than most of us put together (even after our daily cafe con leches) and everything I’m learning from her is really useful knowledge that I can apply in my day-to-day interactions with my family and in public. She teaches us a lot of colloquial terms, how to order things in bars and restaurants, translations for types of clothing, and we have a lot of conversations comparing the cultures of everyone in our classes.
Our culture class is taught by Alfredo, who speaks Spanish in a way that I can understand everything he says, but I feel like he’s not dumbing down his language so we can keep up. It definitely makes me feel like I’m developing a better ear for the language. In his class we learn about the political system of Spain, the geography, Spanish family life and religion (meaning Catholic).
Then, in the afternoons, I have to switch gears from Spanish to English (it’s starting to get difficult - I’ve been forgetting how to spell words in English, making English words masculine or feminine and pluralizing them with “es” instead of “s” more and more frequently... problems I never expected to encounter...). Three days a week I have my Culture of Spain class with Dr. Hiltpold (one of the coolest professors at Poly in my opinion), and the experience of learning the history and culture of a country while being there and living it is simply amazing. Class always begins with Dr. H asking “why do Spaniards do it that way?,” where we get to make sense of some of the quirks about our families and oddities of Spanish people. Questions have ranged from serious ones about Franco’s dictatorship or the Basque region wanting independance to “why don’t they have doorknobs?” (my house included) and “why do they all smoke?”. The lectures where we focus on art and architecture are my favorite, especially lately, when I’ve gotten to study the baroque building in Valladolid where my culture class is held. It’s so cool to glance through notes and see where I’ve written the word “here,” and I realize all over again that I’m smack in the middle of this incredible history, completely immersed and living in it every day.
The other history class offered here is about the Witchhunt in Europe - a fascinating history that isn’t in a whole lot of textbooks, but it devastated most of Europe during the Renaissance. I already took this class from Dr. H, but still wanted to apply for the Spain program, so he had me sign up for an independent study course where I’d write him a research paper about Valladolid. A part of Valladolid’s history that I find fascinating is that Ferdinand and Isabel, probably the most famous monarchs in Spanish history, were married in Valladolid. The building is a 10 minute walk from my Spanish class. Their marriage was a scandal - they were not arranged to be married to one another, and they were also second cousins. Eww. I’m stoked he allowed me to do this and be able to come to Spain, but I’m really struggling with the paper for two reasons. First, since it’s an independent study class, I don’t have lectures, I don’t meet with my professor on a regular basis, or have a schedule of assignments or portions of my paper to turn in throughout the quarter, and I desperately need structure when it comes to school. So, because of that, I’m definitely behind in writing my paper. Secondly, my paper needs to be about Valladolid, which is awesome because there is so much history here and a lot of different directions to take my paper, but writing it here also means I have to research it here. And they don’t speak English here. Yet another reason why I’m behind - I’m far too intimidated to go to a Spanish library and try to find books on my topic, much less try to actually READ THEM.ugh. Scary.
So there’s a glance at my academic life in Spain, parentals, I imagine you’re relieved to know I have one at all.

Oh, and about the creepy-weird hairdos... punky rebel guys don’t have mohawks... they have mullets. and the long mullet part they make DREADLOCKS. It’s disgusting, and it’s EVERYWHERE. It’s the part of culture shock in Spain that I don’t think I’ll ever recover from. I’ll try to sneak some photographic evidence, I’m sure some of you don’t believe me.

I’ve been listening to this artist named Frank Turner a lot lately. My good friend Chris burned me his CD and gave it to me the night before I left for Spain, and so much of his lyrics I can relate to when it comes to traveling and living life to the fullest. One song especially has come to be my theme song thus far in my trip, and I wanted to share some lyrics with whoever reads this:

"Yeah I am sick and tired of people who are living on the b-list
Yeah they're waiting to be famous, and they're wondering why they do this
And I know I'm not the one who it habitually optimistic
But I'm the one who's got the microphone here so just remember this

Well life is about love, lost minutes and lost evening
About fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all flickering
And they help us with remembering
that the only thing left to do is live"
-Frank Turner, "I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous"
Love Ire & Song