The second day in Madrid was as much fun as the first. I met up with Jay, and we went through the city, taking in all the sights and sounds. It was much easier to NOT GET LOST with a friend in tow.
We realized that we were learning a bit about the city and where we were staying. Jay is fluent in Spanish, so I didn't feel as lost as I did before, but I still knew I'd have to work on learning the language.
Jay, Sebastian and I met up with Maria and Sophia, two other girls from our hostel and hit the town.
This is going to be a short post, but I wanted to post some of the pictures from the second day in Spain. I will edit as I think of more commentary.
Sebastian checking for news from home.
Maria and Sophia at the cervecería.
The Gang's all here!
A picture with my girls!
'Nuff Said...
Theatre!
We were drinking here!
Sebastian busting a move.
Jay lending a helping hand.
I'm seeing a lot of 'WTF' graffiti here. Like: "Y'all. Really?"
This entry is dedicated to my darlings Jay and Sebastian.
OKOKOKOKOK, so where were we!?
Ah, yes: Madrid. I flew across the ocean for the first time in my life, got my first passport stamp, and wandered around like a lost puppy with a head wound. I had nothing but my guide to the city, and my incredibly bad Spanish to get me to my hostel. I managed to make it through the Endless Stairs of the Metro, around the Hissing Locals of Gran Vía, and past the Cursing Crone of Sol, only to get fabulously lost in Chueca in an attempt to find my hostel. I finally found Leather Bar, and unlocked the last achievement: Get to hostel and go to sleep. Achievement unlocked, and I promptly passed out.
BUT: because this is me we're talking about, I only slept for 4 or 5 hours. I woke up and looked for Jay, a fabulous boy I'd met at the hostel when I checked in earlier that day. Jay was also new to Madrid, he'd moved there the day before. I really wanted to check out the Madrid nightlife I heard so much about, and Jay had a few great ideas. We hooked up with two Brazilians who were in my room, and hit the town.
Our first stop was El Tigre, a place around the corner. It was there that I had my first Tinto de Verano, which has since become my favorite drink here in Spain. Oh, and I still love El Tigre. Sue me.
I'm the black one...
After a few drinks (and a few plates of tapas), we decided to see what else was happening. We went back to the hostel to meet up with a guy Jay met while I was unconscious, named Sebastian. Sebastian was an Aussie who was also new to Madrid... like he literally just landed. I had no idea that he, along with Jay, would become so freaking close to me in just a matter of hours! So on we stagger, with Jay leading the way, through the streets of Chueca.
Arrr, there be fuckery afoot! Right this way...
We turn the corner and find a club. but it's not just any club. My first night in Madrid, and I just HAPPEN to find: a drag show. STOP. My mother always says that I can find a gay bar anywhere, and let me tell you: She ain't kidding! Plus, we were offered a free shot for checking it out, so of course we HAD to do it. I mean, who am I to turn down free alcohol, even if it does taste like rubbing alcohol?
Sooooo, we're in the bar and there is already a performance happening. Where should we sit? Hmmmm, well there is only one place where all of us can fit.... annnnnd it's in the front freaking row! Hoorah (oh God, please no.)! Yup, we're in the front row, and everyone knows that the best place to get roasted by a drag queen is in the front row. Oh, and guess who wins the PRIME spot right next to the stage? If you guessed: 'Anyone other than KC White.', well then you haven't been paying attention, have you!?
So, the very first thing I realized: I pretty much have NO idea what's being said to me. As much as I learned in 4 semesters of college Spanish ( 2 years, son!), there is nothing, I mean nothing like being surrounded by native speakers. There will never be a comparison. I know I mentioned this earlier with the woman who called me a puta, but it's so true. You just can't learn this in a textbook. Period.
Another thing I learned: My whole life, I've been like: "Yeah, I'm from New Orleans! Woooo! NOLA, baby! Etc." Yeah, when the performer asked me where I was from, and I replied with utmost confidence: "Nueva Orleans." I was met with a vicious side eye, and a loud "EH? DÓNDE!?" #wompwomp
Yeah, a lot of people here seem to have no idea where I'm from. NOLA baby, my ass! Holy ego deflation, Batman!
I was like:
I also realized that not only is my Spanish crap, no one here calls it that. In Spain it's 'Castellano'. Learn it, Live it, love it. I spent the rest of the time being roasted by every queen that took the damn stage.
Despite having to help me block all that shade, Jay and I still had time to take a quick selfie...
Because I have something called a sense of humor, and Jay was there to
tell me what the hell they were saying about me, I just rolled with the punches. The Queens were nice, funny, and when they weren't making cracks about me being a lesbian, they were telling me how nice I was, and thanking me for being such a good sport. They also let me have it, because the only thing I seemed to understand were the dirty jokes! Hell, why wouldn't I? Be honest: when you're learning a new language, one of the first things you learn are the 'naughty' things. Don't lie!
But I stuck to my mantra: When in doubt, nod and smile! I
mean, what else can you do? I'm in a foreign country, and I barely speak
the language. It's KC season, and let me tell you something: those
bitches were hunting!
I need a shirt that says 'Khephra Season'. For real.
I DID notice that my comprehension was better than I thought, and I
could answer some questions. I wasn't quite as dreadful as I feared, but
still: My Castellano needs Jesus. Real talk.
After many (and I mean many) shots were fired, we ambled out of the club, and looked for another spot. We found a club near the hostel, and decided to go dancing. Almost as soon as we arrived, I heard a familiar song start playing...
Yup, even in Madrid that song is a huge hit. I didn't realize it at the time, but that song would follow me EVERYWHERE for my first month in Madrid. I had only been here for 17 hours or so, but after a couplea fewsome several drinks and a crowded dance floor, I was looking forward to seeing what the next day would have in store for me. Stay tuned for day 2, and I promise I won't make you wait 2 months for the next entry. Look for a bunch of updates in the next couple of weeks. I've got a LOT to tell you! ;-)
So I had three hours to myself in Madrid. I gathered my courage, and walked... well I didn´t know where I was going, so I decided to head left. I walked through the Neighborhood, which I learned is called Chueca.
Chueca is one of the rainbow districts in Madrid, so it is appropriate that I ended up there! I explored all the side streets, taking note of such landmarks as "Leather Bar" and the various sex shops that I saw. Nicely enough, these became the ways I found my way back to the hostel. I also noticed how much Chueca looks like the French Quarter.
I kept going in that direction until I found myself at Gran Via. Oh. My. GOD. If the airport and Metro debacle, with a side of getting lost in Chueca, didn´t make this real: standing in the middle of Gran Via certainly did!
There it was: the street I have only read about in books, and seen in videos. I was standing in the freaking middle of it. And I ... needed ...to... MOVE! What the hell am doing just standing in the middle of the block, when people are trying to walk!? ACH! Bad American, Bad bad BAD! I later realized that I didn't even get a picture of the first time I saw Gran Via. Perhaps I was too busy staring at the landmark that would later become known to me as 'Fancy-pants McDonalds' (They fancy, y'all!).
I swear, every time I see a fast food joint in Madrid, I'm like:
So anyway: I stopped being a jerk and crossed the street, gawking at Fancy-pants McDonalds and the big red tree. Suddenly there was a woman in front of me, with her hand out. She was talking to me, but she spoke so fast I couldn´t make out what she was saying. It was like: "A wild native speaker appears! She uses 'Confound them with Castellano'... It is super effective!
I tried to speak: "Please slow down, I don´t understand. ¡Ummm... No entiendo...Menos(???) Rapido, por favor!" She answered me with what sounded like: "¡hnnfjrñsthuesañhntgrjusñtgputahofñeahfñearfholu!"
I walked away, then stopped... Heeeeey. I know one of those words... Let´s see: "¡hnnfjrñsthuesañhntgrjusñtputaghofñeahfñearfholu!" WAITAMINUTE! I stood there for a second and said: "Wait, did that bitch just call me a bitch?" A man walking by must have understood me, because he laughed and patted me on the back saying: "Sí, Sí." As in: "Why yes, My American friend. That bitch did, in fact, just call you a bitch." 3.5 hours in Madrid. NICE.
I wandered around past Gran Via and ended up in Puerta del Sol, which is now apparently called 'Vodaphone Sol'. Hmmmm... that wasn't in my tourist guide. Eh, whatever, they had a gold tree. Look at it, it's pretty. Oooooooh. See? I quickly learned that to everyone it's just Sol, which works fine for me. I took pictures, because I have no problem being That Guy.
I wandered into the Orange store to get my Spanish SIM card, and
luckily they had someone who spoke English. I have no problem testing
out my Castellano, but I was tired as hell and just wanted to get my
phone turned on. The woman there said she spoke English, but kept
getting stumped on some things:
"When do you leave Spain?"
"I leave in July."
"Eh?"
"July. I leave in July"
"I'm sorry?"
"Julio."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand you."
"It's the month after June..?"
"Umm... "
I resisted the urge to shake her and scream "JULY, BITCH! JULYYYYY!!", because: I am a LADY.
It didn't click until I physically wrote: 07/2014. My head... it hurts me so.
After I got my SIM card sorted out, took an Ibuprofen, put my phone away, and just walked. Now, in my mind I went the same direction that I came from. In my mind, that is. In reality, I got horribly lost, and had to turn to my trusty Map of Madrid to find my way back. Because this is me we're talking about, I STILL managed to get lost even with a damn map! "Just walk!" I said, "You'll totally remember the way back!" I said. Man, I have got to stop listening to myself. I look at it this way: If you constantly tell yourself that you are on a Grand Adventure, You will never be lost.
...My life is a constant Grand Adventure.
After another hour on Calle de Idontevenfuckingknowanymore, I managed to take a left and see: 'Leather Bar'! Halle-freaking-lujah! That hostel's around here somewhere, folks! I found my street (Oh, here's a tip: There are no signs on poles here. The street signs are mounted on the walls. If you want to figure out where the hell you are, go to the corner and look up.), and checked into my hostel. I took my sheets and bags into the room, locked up my laptop and small things, and passed right out. I didn't even make the bed. I just laid down the sheet, grabbed a comforter, and that was a wrap.
Next entry: The first night in Madrid begins, my friends!
Well guess what, Ladies and Gentlemen! After MUCH ado, I have finally arrived in Madrid. My day was filled with firsts, especially since I've never been here before in my whole life. I flew from Philly to Madrid, my first international flight. For the first time I saw the view like you see in the movies. There were lights everywhere, as far as I could see.
There is no feeling like the awe that hits you, when you realize that you have really left your country. Like, you can see the actual border as you start to cross the ocean.
The flight was much shorter than I expected. I spent my time watching Sex and the City, Newsroom, Black Swan, and finally Moulin Rouge (I didn't get to finish it. Boo.) I was never really able to fall asleep. I nodded a few times, but the people constantly ringing for the flight attendants kept waking me up. After a while, I saw lights again, and realized that we had crossed the ocean safely.
Yeah, you can't see crap but I'm adding it anyway. That's how I roll.
Finally after what felt like for-EVER, we began to see signs of Madrid. I took a lot of pictures from the plane, but I'll only torture you with one:
Madrid letting its Soul Glo
The view was incredible! I could see all these beautiful buildings, and I really wanted to take pictures of everything I could see in front of me. I also learned to use the 'video' function on my phone. Hahaha, just kidding I use that all the time!
Then it was time to land! ALL-RIIIIIIGHTTTT!!
(Yes, I recorded my damn landing, because I am a dorky dork who dorks. Jealous!?)
Dear Sweet Minty Jesus, can we please discuss why it takes eleventy million years to walk from the plane to the damn terminals (I'm looking at you too, Philly!)!? I had to dress like a decent human being for my international flight (flight attendant mom), so I wore my cute little snakeskin heels. Let me tell you, after two flights and endless walking, they weren't so fucking cute!! I was limping by the time I got to customs. :-(
I get to customs, get my passport stamped (for the first time, NBD!!!), and I'm off to the... rest of the airport. Yayyyy! Ugh, booooooo! Yeah, apparently there is a pattern with these international airports. It takes forever to get across the things! I really think the they should offer some kind of service. I mean, you needed a shuttle to get to the Airport Shuttle! I will admit: The FIRST thing I did after getting my baggage was to go outside, smoke a cigarette (you're not so perfect either), and PUT ON MY SNEAKERS!! OH GOD, THE RELIEF!! I also took a couple of pictures while sitting on the ground like a crazy person:
¡Hola, soy tourista!
Look honey, there are taxis and everything!
I went back inside to realize that: I was not done yet. Oh, no! I got through customs and baggage claim, but there was so much more airport to get through. There were eleventy million signs for the Metro, but the Metro never seemed to appear. After a while, you feel like the signs are mocking you. They were all like: "You're almost there! It's coming soon, we swear! No, seriously. Any minute now. Look at you, you're doing so well! Four for you, Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco! Keep going!"
You know what's at the end? Cookies, son. Cookies.
These are not the cookies you seek.
So, after hobbling through the Jet-way of DOOOOOM (in heels), limping through the Airport That Doesn't End (I mean, I mean dear LORD, I thought I would NEVER make it to the Metro!), I finally made it to the Metro, and learned something extremely important: Madrid Metro stations have a fuck ton of stairs! I mean y'all: they love the hell out of stairs. Seriously, what is the deal? Everywhere I went there were just long rows of stairs. Now, I'm not a lazy girl (okay, I'm kind of lazy), but when you add in the two huge suitcases I was carrying, my trip through the Metro started to feel like this:
\
I swear, every time I saw stairs I wanted to cry. I was always grateful to see an escalator. Seriously. After two train transfers, I got to my station: Chueca. HALLLLLLLL-LELUJAH! HAAAAALELU-notsofastmorestairs. What. The. Fuuuuuuuuu- Y'all, I seriously had to drag my suitcases up and down flight after flight of stairs. In order to leave Chueca station, I had to drag them up at least three more flights of stairs. My arms were on fire, and I seriously wanted to cry, but I dragged those bastards all the way to the top. Then I promptly got lost. Yup, I misread the directions to my hostel and walked all over my neighborhood. I pretty much walked down every street but the one my hostel was on. Once I got back to Chueca station, I realized that all I had to do after the Everlasting Stairs was turn right and go straight. The hostel was two blocks up. I then felt the hand of GOD come down and write 'Moron' on my forehead. Womp woooooomp.
I got to the hostel an hour earlier than I planned, because I really thought it would take longer to get through customs. I mean, all this foolishness took three hours. Oh: not only was I an hour early, I was three hours early for check in (Oh, you rotten motherf....).
I could either hang around the hostel, or walk around my new home. I looked around the hostel for a bit, then gathered my courage and hit the streets of Madrid!
More to come, I am extremely tired and I'm sure you have read enough. Cheers!
My visa arrived today (YAY!!!), and with this comes a startling revelation: This is really happening. I know that I keep saying that, but it is really slamming home the realization that in one week I am moving to another country. I will be in a different part of the earth, with no family or friends, and I will have to make it on my own. This is not the first time I have moved away from home, but the fact that I am going to freaking EUROPE just terrifies me.
I know that I have every reason to be happy, and I am. I am just also shaking at the thought of getting on a plane that will take me away from my mother, my cat, my city, etc. I am trying to research everything I can think of before I go, and take care of every piece of business that I need to deal with before I get on the plane.
It is a lot of work, it is a lot to deal with. Surreal as it is, it is coming FAST. I need to mentally prepare myself, but there is a part of me that just wants to scream. I just have this feeling of panic, or nerves. Am I ready for this?
Well I know one thing: I'd better GET ready. The last two months have consisted of me getting ready to make this move. I have given up my job, my apartment, my current life for this. It is the chance and opportunity of a lifetime, and I knew that when I applied. I applied knowing that if I got into the program, I would accept the position. Still, there is a part of me that keeps screaming: "What the fuck are you doing!?" The short answer? I am following my heart. I am being (extremely) selfish for once. I always do my best to help others. It is time to do something for myself.
Call me crazy, irresponsible, whatever. It's a done deal. In one week, I will be landing in Madrid, Spain. This is the most impulsive thing I have ever done. Everything is about to change. Even though I am afraid, I chalk it up to nerves. Ever since I knew there was a world out there, I have wanted to see it. I have dreamed of this, cried (Oh God, how I cried) over this, and felt frustration at not being able to go where I wanted. I have worked up disappointed that I was not in the place I just dreamed of, and at one point this year I actually said out loud that the only way I would see Europe was in a box. Funny what people say when they are at wit's end.
I think the reason this is so surreal is that I really believed that things like this do not happen to regular people like me. For most of my life I have felt unremarkable, and accepted that my life just was not as exciting as others. In dealing with this for the last two months, I have learned a bit more about myself, and how awesome and dear my friends and family truly are. I know who supports me, and who does not.
Some have said that by taking this position, I am running from my problems. The thing is, what problems I had will be waiting when I get back, won't they? I am not one to run from issues. I take care of what I need to, and leave nothing unresolved. My legs may shake, but I will walk onto that plane. I will learn how to get to my hostel. I will do what I need to do, and I will survive. I always do. If nothing else, I come home in 6-7 months with a truckload of stories. Or I find a way to make my stay in Spain more permanent.
I wanted someone to tell me that I can do this, but I already know that I am more than capable of handling this. If I need help, I will ask. I will finally see the world. I will finally immerse myself in the places I have only read about. On Friday, December 27th, I will get on that plane. I will meet new people, and make new friends. I will change my life and maybe, just maybe, I will find my new home.
Is this how Vladimir and Estragon felt? I mean yes, it's a bit grandiose to compare the two, but I'm a Theatre major: What did you expect? Visa, thy name is 'Godot' and I am in need of a dead tree and bowler hat ASAP.
So I applied for my visa, and was told it would take 2-3 weeks. Well it is now a MONTH, and I am still waiting. STILL. WAITING. I contacted the consulate and was told that they are waiting to hear from Spain. That's right, We are literally waiting for a phone call, email, or forms from the Spanish police that say I am cleared to travel. OH. MY. GOD. I am climbing up the walls over here.
Here's the thing: I have just gone through a month of packing, cleaning, and moving a house into storage. I left my job at a TV news station and another one at a nightclub. I gave away ALL of my furniture, and most of my possessions and now I am in Atlanta waiting for the next step: Madrid.
For this, I have endured days of working, barely sleeping or eating so I could be ready to move. I then took my poor kitty on two flights to get here. I am ready to TO THE DAMN THING. But I can't make any sort of move until my visa comes through. AHHHHHHHH!!!
I know it's less of an update, and more of me bitching about my problems. I know that I am fortunate to be accepted to this program, and that I am privileged to be in the running, blah blah blah. But this is frustrating as fuck, and I really need to get it out.
The GOOD news is that my Gofundme page is still up and running. I'm actually halfway to my goal. If you're interested in donating, you can go to http://www.gofundme.com/54txrg and help me not be homeless once I FINALLY get to Madrid! Keep reading, I'm sure once I get overseas the fun will begin, right? RIGHT!?
So... we're still going to Spain. The plan has not changed, although I have 5 days to leave New Orleans and I'm really needing to pack. Now is the time where I find myself without a job, and with nothing but time to pack my whole life into a box, and freak the fuck out. Fun, right!?
Now we take a look at what this really entails: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL, LEAVING THE COUNTRY IS EXPENSIVE!! Between visas, trips to Houston to GET my visa, doctors appointments to get the paperwork for my visa, plane tickets, storage units, I am about $1500 in the red. Oh, and you can forget another month's rent and bills, which are around another $2000. Damn, son. It's a wonder that I'm even eating. Thank goodness for good friends who can cook! Thanksgiving was two days ago, so I'm Thankful for leftovers, which are keeping me going because I can't grocery shop, because I'm leaving town in a few days.
I have learned that I've been placed in a tiny village outside Madrid. It is called La Cabrera, and the pictures are just beautiful. I see lots and lots of... mountains. Huh. Well that's new. Also, it's winter. I hear Spain has REAL winter, which is nothing like the Fisher Price winter we have here in New Orleans. In New Orleans it gets down to the 50's and we are wearing parkas and dusting off the huskies. I wake up on a day that's in the 40s and I seriously consider calling in dead to work. Real Talk. So now I have to look for peacoats and boots. Yay for boot shopping, BOOOOOOOO for snow. Because apparently: Where there are mountains, there tends to be snow. Who knew?
Here I am now: surrounded by boxes and trying to pack what I need. This shall be a journey of its own making, because I'm still trying to figure out what I need to bring -vs- what I want to bring. I have to find a way to get my things to storage, and to get my stuff (and my cat) to Atlanta. This still feels so surreal. Even with the pictures of La Cabrera, and the newly purchased plane ticket that says: "Yup, Madrid. In two weeks. YOU'RE GOING." I feel like it's not real.
To help me with my trip, I have a Gofundme page up. This is to help me find a place to live, and to not starve in España until I get paid at the end of January. (Woo-hooo, not starving!)
If you feel so inclined, please click here or go to: http://www.gofundme.com/54txrg
Every little bit helps, and as always I appreciate your help. I also want to say a HUGE Thank you to the people at Dark Room Custom PC and Flat Screen Repair for their generosity. These awesome guys DONATED the laptop I'm using right now, to help me teach overseas.
I can't tell you how good it is to see my entire screen again. Thank you so much guys!
On that note, I shall leave you to pack more boxes. I have a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it. If I don't see you in a few days, I'll check in from Atlanta. MADRID IN 14 DAYS. ¡HALA MADRID!
(Also, I have no idea why I can't turn off the italics. I'll fix this as soon as I can.)
