That shit cray

To say the least, Amsterdam went above and beyond my expectations for how insane it was. Whether this is good or bad, I don't know. All I know is I went, I saw, I lived through it, and that may be that. I'm only going to brief on my very first impression of Amsterdam.

I was traveling with one other girl, and our first impression of Amsterdam was undeniably shocking. We got into the city late at night, determined to not let this expensive over run tourist trap leave us penniless, so we walking and public transit were necessary.

Conventional shop? Try again, this is a red light district brothel

After getting of the train we are not only trying to navigate a foreign city, but we don't know the language, it's dark out, and there is a carnival going on in the center of the city because we of course arrived on a holiday weekend. We definitely could tell we were getting closer to our hostel, we we just having trouble finding the last road, when we noticed a row of buildings ahead. I saw a windowsill lined with a glowing soft red and a small red lantern on the side of the building. In my mind I was thinking, wouldn't it be funny if the red light district had red street lights? Well, my silly thoughts became reality as we came upon the red light district, face to face with prostitutes who were clearly on the clock.

Knowing prostitution was legal in this country did not prepare me for the shock of seeing it in action. These women are on display in windows or glass doors and there are no secrets nor are there black curtains with misleading signs, it's perfectly clear what happens in behind those doors.

Needless to say myself and the gal I was traveling with were scared shitless for what we had just stumbled upon. We quickly decided we were not going the right way, and when we finally found our hostel it was still smack dab in the middle of the red light district. As we were checking in, just across the street we could see one of the ladies of the night working her window.

However, the next day as we toured the city we learned the red light district is one of the safest sections in the entire city. Among other things, our tour guide thought it was important to learn more about Amsterdam than just sex and drugs. For example, did you know Amsterdam has more canals than the city of Venice, Italy? That's a fact and that's me pictured on one of them.

Becoming the person we're meant to be

In this final month of studying abroad, my life has taken a turn I never saw coming. I know that life doesn't throw things at us when we cannot handle them, therefore it's true that everything happens for a reason. I've been catching up on my solitary thinking and trying to work out all the kinks. However, thinking only does so much, it's time that tells all. 

All I know is I cannot control the actions of others, the only thing I can control are my own. Although I wish things were perfect, I know what doesn't kill us make us stronger. The path I'm on now is the right one. I found there is a constant battle within myself of what to do with the situation at hand, but I know I have to make myself happy, and do what is right for myself. 

I'm not one to quote Facebook, but the other day I read an interesting quote and I hope it finds it's way to the right people. As individuals, we make our own decisions. We make our own lives. At some point we have to step back and decide who we want to be. 

~~~

 

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

That awkward moment when...

You're host mom makes dinner and leaves you alone in the kitchen with your Spanish roommate and says that "you two should chat." And the most awkward part about it, is that you don't.

Oh weird, that just happened to me. And now I feel guilty because I've probably never spoken much more than a full sentence to him at once, and I've been here for about 4 months now. I've still got one more month to make up for lost time... probably won't.

Meh. Lo siento. 

Food, cider, and music

Yesterday was my biggest dose of Basque culture since I've been here. Yesterday a small group of us from my program went have lunch at a sidreria in San Sebastian, which is something we would consider a cider house. The cider is made right there onsite and were are two huge rooms lined with cider barrels bigger than you can imagine.

I had no idea what to expect when I got there, mostly because I went into blindly after the idea got tossed around one day and it sounded fun. It's different than anything I've done in the States because everyone eats the same three course meal and everyone who reserved to eat at the sidreria that day all eats at the same time and stays for a couple hours. 

We of course were the first ones there because we were not entirely sure how everything worked. But like by little, after our tour of the cider house the whole place filled up with people of all ages. We ate and drank like nobody's business and I probably ate the best steak I've ever eaten in my life. And the cider was great, fresh and straight from the tap of the barrel. And we learned how to correctly tilt the glass when serving yourself from the spewing tap.

As the each course was brought out, the people were getting louder and more cider was being consumed. Some people were eating, some were mingling by the cider barrels, but everyone was happy. It was the most friendly I've ever seen Basque people for that matter and I believe it was because their shell was already broken and they were in the comfort zone of their own food, friends, and culture.

Later on there was music and dancing and all of us Americans were asked to sing their Basque songs with them which was pretty tricky... I was really just making noises. It was so much fun to see the big mix of people, everyone from 5 years old to 85 years old was in one place drinking, eating, and enjoying life. After the lunch was over everyone was asking us to join them at the bar down the street.

After a countless number of cider glasses we had all consumed, we made our way out to find we were all fairly intoxicated and it was still light out. In fact it was still the middle of the day. To our surprise the bar everyone was heading to was actually raging and it was before 4 p.m.

Needless to say we stayed there for a few more hours and continued to rage the day away with some who looked to be older than my mother. Regardless, it was one of the best days I've had since being here. However drinking in the middle of the day does have it's consequences like when you stop drinking and have to get on an hour long bus ride home, it turns out you're experiencing the onset of a hangover and you haven't even gotten in bed yet.

Real mom meets temporary Spanish mom

I was blessed with a two week spring break to do whatever I pleased and not be in school, and I was also very fortunate to have my mom visit for the entire duration of the break. She flew into Bilbao and the first thing I did was bring my real mom to my host mom, Carmen's house.

My mom not knowing any Spanish, made it an interesting job being a translator, but exhausting might be a better word. Overall we stayed in my house with my host family for six days, a few days in the beginning and few days at the end. Carmen would carry on these lengthy conversations with my mom and I would be stuck translating every single sentance. Sometimes she would even be giving us mini history lessons about Spain as well. By the last day I was barely translating anything and I could see my mom turning her head to me, looking for the translation, but I would just nod and let Carmen knew I understood.

The job of a translator is tiring, and because when I listen I understand all of it, some things seem pointless to translate into English because it seems simple enough to understand. In reality that's not the case, people can pick up words, but it's harder to understand the meaning or the substance of a conversation. 

It was actually very humorous and sweet... by the last days Carmen and my mom had gotten to know each other and Carmen would tell my mom that because they were both women they could understand each other. Language didn't always stand in their way, some things were just understood without translation.

Regardless, we had an amazing time traveling around Spain. I played translator/speaker/navigator during our travels, but we were also able to use a lot of English. In some places if I was stumbling with my Spanish people would just start speaking English to me. I tried not to take it personally.

Soon I'll only being hearing English, wondering where all the Spanish went!

From one side of Spain to the other

After over 20 hours of bus rides, 4 different cities, and countless number of museums, churches, ruins, and castles my mom and I had made it from the north to the south of Spain and back again in 13 days. It was a successful spring break with only a few minor incidents, one of them being nearly pick pocketed in Madrid, another being getting lost in the cold and rain at 1 a.m., but other than that we made out fine!

Bilbao, the city I go to school in, is very far north in Spain, as you can see from the map. We stopped in Madrid for lunch on the way down south, and the hopped back on a bus to Granada. Granada is famous for the Alhambra which is Moorish palace. It is one of the most impressing structures I've seen in my life. And this was my second visit. More photos of the Alhambra can be seen on my Flickr account.

After Granada, we got on yet another bus to Malaga which is a city right on the water, and one of the oldest cities in the world having a history dating from nearly 2,800 year ago.

 After the beach, we headed to Madrid for a proper stay. It was still brief, we only spent one night but we were still able to see the famous Prado Museum and eat lunch in Plaza Mayor.

 

Nerves

I'm currently wasting time before I make my way to the airport to pick up my mother. She'll be spending the next 13 days in Spain, just living the life. I'm super excited and it's going to be quite strange to have another piece of home here with me in Spain. I found that with my boyfriend visiting, it was so strange to show someone my new life here; simply because it's so different.

Also, we'll be spending the first night here in my homestay with my Spanish family. My real mom is about to meet my temporary Spanish mom. My real mom is not anything like the Spanish moms here. She doesn't stay at home, cook, clean, do laundry, and take care of everyone.

Ever since my parents divorced when I was about 17 years old, my mom and I have lived together just the two of us. My sister, being 6 years older hasn't lived at home since I was 13 years old. So since late high school, I've been basically roommates with my mom. Not to say she hasn't been a mother, but any 17 year old girl or boy that has two hands can do their own dishes and laundry and clean their own room. She didn't need to do those things for me, and that's just what I'm used to. However in Spain, this woman who is my host mom does all things a stay at home mom does.

So, here I am in my room in Spain wondering what my mom will think of all this? I wonder what she'll think of this woman who feeds me every day and irons my jeans. I wonder what she'll make of Spain. When my mom was in high school her family moved abroad and lived in France. I believe the Basque Country of Spain will probably not compare to anything she has seen in Europe so far.