Lo último de Salamanca/Le tout dernier de Salamanque

Hoyas celebrating Obama's inauguration!  (2 people from our group are missing)

l-->r  Kaley, Pam, Molly, me, Carter

OUR NEW PRESIDENT!!!!!!!! (I had to include this one!)

Plaza Mayor by night

Overlooking the Old Cathedral

Everything looks better in black & white!

As promised, I finally have some pictures!  By now, you are all well aware of my well-documented quest to find internet in Salamanca, and, miraculously, I'm actually online at my apartment right now (knock on wood, because who knows how long it will last?!?)!  But things are definitely better now in Salamanca, even though each day presents a new struggle (i.e. the fact that it rains EVERY day, and no, I'm not exaggerating- I'm glad that I learned my lesson while living in D.C. this summer and now bring my ellaella everywhere- umbrella for those of you who are not Kate, Dave, or anyone who I lived with this summer!).  But I'm settling into life as a salmantina, even though I'm afraid I'll always be seen as a gringa.  I am slightly confused when I walk down the street and am not harassed by many of the people giving out pamphlets or asking you to give blood.  Is it because I don't make I contact with them, or do they know my dark secret, that I'm an American???  Sometimes I feel like I'm walking around with a sign on my back proclaiming my nationality, such as yesterday, when Molly and I were leaving the bank and heard a guy yell over to us, "Do you speak ENGLISH?!!!!!!"  Really?  Are we that obvious?  The guy, an Australian, pretty much did a victory dance when he saw us, which was actually quite funny, except for the fact that we have no sense of where anything is and couldn't help him find the language school he was looking for.

As was the case last semester, getting a bank account has proven to be a complete hassle, and an experience that leaves me eternally frustrated, but not a bit surprised.  Last Friday, we went with Celia, our program director, to Caja Madrid, one of what seem like hundreds of banks in Salamanca.  We were informed that, in order to open an account, we had to go to the police station and obtain a form saying that we don't permanently reside in Salamanca.  Great.  It was in a part of town that I was not familiar with, and when Celia proposed that we all go on Monday, I panicked.  I have class during the time they wanted to go, and I really didn't want to go to the police station by myself (yes, I know I'm a wimp).  So Molly and I decided to bank shop, heading next to Barclay's, a bank that held the promise of English-speaking employees.  We did manage to talk to the one English-speaking employee in the branch, and, after taking all of our information, he told us that our accounts would be ready on Monday. 

We had class all day on Monday, so went back on Tuesday.  The second we got there, though, he told us that he couldn't open accounts for us, because Barclays' policy is that you have to live in the given city for at least a year (which we're not- we're leaving in June).  Go figure.  I actually started laughing.  Of course.  This seems to be my lot in life- difficulty opening a European bank account.  One nice souvenir from the Barclays employee was that he gave us the name of another bank, Santander, that he thought had a special plan for students.  And sure enough, we went to Santander and found that they DID have a plan for students!!!!! And, while we have to wait another 5 or 6 days to get our cards, at least we HAVE bank accounts!!!

So enough about banks, I know you probably don't want to hear about it.  It's just a funny (or not so funny, depending on how you look at it) anecdote from my European adventures.  So, classes.  Yeah, they've started.  And the excitement of the first week, of finally getting into a routine here, has most definitely worn off.  I just had such a terrible academic experience last semester that I'm hoping, with all of my being, that this semester is different.  One major difference that I've already noticed is that participation is actually a word Spaniards know.  As in participation from students.  Wait, you mean that's allowed?  Not only is it allowed, but it's a way of evaluating students!  All of my French professors would blush at such a heinous idea!  So that's a big, and welcome, difference.  Another difference, this one not as welcome, is the fact that I have reading- as in LOTS of reading- for my history classes.  For one class, I have a 200-page packet that I have to read throughout the course of the semester.  Great.  I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of reading on planes, trains and buses during all of our travels this semester.  One nice thing is that I only have one class without other Georgetown people, and even WITH those Georgetown people (which means awesome study seshes once it gets closer to exam time), I've managed to meet a few other people.  In our history class today, Carter and I started talking with a German Erasmus student, who turned out to be really nice.  So at the end of class, he asked for my phone number and told Carter and I that he would call us to go out for drinks!  Yay!  We have a foreign friend!  Someone we speak Spanish with!

So let's see, what's on tap for the foreseeable future?  Well, next week I'm joining the gym (I wanted to wait until February 1st so I wouldn't be charged a full month price for 2 weeks), and I couldn't be happier.  I REALLY need it, especially with all of the drinks I have to buy in order to get internet.  One of the highlights was on Tuesday, when Molly and I went to the Irish Rover, a bar/internet lover's heaven.  In lieu of the usual coffee (for her) and tea (for me), we decided to go a little crazy and get vodka y limón (the latter being Fanta lemon soda).  YUM!!!! It was 6€, so we're definitely not doing that very often, but it was really good.  But yeah, I need to join the gym.  There's a really good one by my house, so I'll go sometime early next week when I have time. 

Another thing to look forward to is Kate's (yes, bride-to-be Kate!!!) visit.  She's doing a tour of Spain, since she has another few weeks before classes start up in Florence, and she's arriving in Salamanca on Friday.  We'll spend Friday night here, and then will head for Madrid on Saturday.  AND, to make it an even more amazing weekend, Lauren is finally in Madrid (thank God she made it safely!!!) after her whirlwind trip around the Middle East.  I can't wait to see both Kate and Lauren, so I think it will be a good bonding weekend for the three of us and Molly! (and hopefully Mary Kathryn too, who got here on Sunday!).  

Finally, yesterday Molly, Mary Kathryn and I finalized our spring break plans.  Our spring break is from April 3rd to 13th, which is a really good chunk of time.  Our original plan was to go to Ireland for the majority of that time and go to Barcelona for the Coldplay concert on April 9th. Or so we thought.  So yesterday, Mary Kathryn was booking the Coldplay tickets, and it wasn't until her order had been confirmed that she was told that the concert was, in fact, on SEPTEMBER 9th...meaning that we reversed the digits.  She feverishly sent an email to the web admin and will be getting a refund, but it was a hectic few minutes!  So we decided on England from the 3rd to the 8th and Ireland from then until the 13th.  I'm sooooo excited that we have booked at least one trip, and I think it will be a lot of fun!!!!

It's the weekend for me now, and we're actually going out for a friend's birthday tonight, which will be really fun!  And on Saturday, the Georgetown group is going to Peñafiel, where there is a castle (obviously right up my alley!!!!!!!!!!!), and then we're having a wine tasting (ALSO right up my alley!).  I'm excited to do something different than sleep in on the weekends (which I NEVER do at home but find myself embracing now, because I figure I need it) and watch Gilmore Girls for the rest of the day.  But, on that note, I have finished Gilmore Girls!!! (after it essentially took over my life last week!)  I was really sad to finish, but was at least somewhat pleased with the ending.  Not that that interests many of you who are reading this, but it's sort of a big deal for my housemates for next year (and friends!).  Anyway, I should go get ready, but I hope all is well with all of you, and I'm

Sending you my love,

Kristen

¡El primer día de clases!/Le premier jour des cours!

I decided to do a bilingual title this time because one of my friends mentioned that she misses the French titles of my blog. So now they have been resurrected for your general enjoyment! I am luckily in much better spirits than I was on Saturday, in large part because I am moving towards acceptance of the nearly nonexistent internet situation in Spain. I may have mentioned this in the last post, but it seems that, in more ways than one, Spain hasn't really embraced 21st-century technology yet, so, coming from one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world can be a bit of an adjustment. Silly me for assuming I would have an internet connection comparable to the one I had last semester, based solely on the fact that it said in the information I got on my host family that they had Wifi. Silly me. I should have known better.

I thought that Sundays in Strasbourg were dead, because, as I mentioned on several occasions, nothing is open on Sundays. Well, not only is nothing open on Sundays in Salamanca, but, if you go out for a nice Sunday afternoon stroll, NO ONE is out and about. It's sort of a ghost town. I met up with three of the Georgetown girls for chocolate y churros (the latter of which continue to disgust me) and two hours of conversation. An ENORMOUS group of what appeared to be fresh-off-the-boat Americans came into Valor, Salamanca's premier chocolate y churros venue, and, to make ourselves feel superior to the newbies, we spoke almost exclusively in Spanish. The truth is, our level of Spanish is probably a lot higher than those in other groups, because Georgetown is one of the only schools to offer direct matriculation programs. Many of the Americans I have met are coming here to learn Spanish, which to me is a silly idea. To start out with no Spanish is a big gamble, so I hope it pays off for them.

After leaving Valor, I went to the Irish Rover, a bar and my venue of choice to get internet, mostly because the connection has been the most consistent out of all of the places I've tried. I felt a lot better after talking to my parents again and getting a chance to surf the web for awhile. I'm still working on putting up pictures, which is proving to be a painstakingly long process when an internet connection is less than perfect.

So you're probably wondering what sort of classes I'm taking, because, after all, I did partly come here to study (although I certainly appreciate the traveling/going out part of the experience more). So here's my schedule:

Monday:
9-11 Politics and violence in Spain in the 1930s
12-2 Introduction to Spanish Poetry
4-6 Modern Spanish History: The Inquisition
7-8 Latin American Literature

Tuesday:
9-11 History of Spain from 1939 on
1-2 Introduction to Spanish Poetry
6-7 Modern Spanish History: The Inquisition

Wednesday:
9-11 History of Spain from 1939 on

Thursday:
10-12 Latin American Literature
1-2 Politics and Violence in Spain in the 1930s

You'll notice that I only have 5 classes this semester! Only 5! Compared to France, this is already a vacation, although I get the sense that I WILL have a little bit of work to do throughout the semester. I already had my first class today, and the professor seemed really nice, and, unlike a lot of European professors, seems to believe in class participation as a way to further the learning process. What an idea! There were a few foreign students too (3 from Germany, 1 from the UK, 1 from France, and Carter, me, and one other American, who goes to Roanoke College and knows my friend Marett), and she seemed very happy to have us in the class. So I still have 4 classes to go to, but the first one made me optimistic about how this semester will go!

Sending you my love,
Kristen

Algunas dificultades

I don't really have much to say, so I guess this will probably be the shortest and least epic of all of my posts, but let's just say that Spain isn't everything I was expecting it to be. Much of this frustration stems from the fact that, for the past three days, the only place I can get internet is in a café, which means that communication with my family is scarce and communication with my friends is nonexistent. I don't mean to sound like a little spoiled kid who can't survive without stuff, as has been alluded to, but when the internet is your only lifeline to the people you love, it's a big deal if you can't get it. I realize that I was spoiled last semester, because I lived in a country where the internet is a lot more common, because it seems to me that Spaniards haven't quite graduated to 21st-century technology yet. So please excuse me for saying that my experience, thus far, has been anything less than perfect.

So if I have a Skype date with you and you find, at the agreed-upon time, that I'm not online, don't be offended. I'm not not online because I don't love you or don't want to talk to you, but I'm not online because I haven't been able to find anywhere with sufficient internet access. As you can see, from my lack of enthusiasm in this post, I feel, basically, blah. And yes, I realize that this was MY decision to spend an entire year in Europe, but that doesn't mean I can't have difficult times during this process. I'm not expecting (nor do I particularly want) sympathy or advice from any of you, just understanding. So hopefully, I'll have the chance to speak to all of you who are reading this sometime during my semester in Salamanca! I hope all of you are well, and, as always, I'm sending you my love. Hopefully I'll be in better spirits for my next entry!

Kristen

Una gringa en Salamanca

Yes, I am a "gringa," or a "guidi," a foreigner in Salamanca, and I'm enjoying every minute of it! Salamanca is growing on me more and more every day, even though the Internet connection in my house seems to worsen every day. I sort of want my host grandmother, who I have had absolutely no interaction with, to leave so that I can get back in the room with the router. Oh well, at least I SORT OF have Internet.

Before I go any further, today is my mom's, and my friend Mary Kathryn's, birthday, so I want to wish them both a very happy birthday from Salamanca! I'll see MK in Salamanca in a few days, but I don't know when I'll be able to Skype next with my mom, since my internet has been acting up, so happy birthday Mummy! <3

I didn't talk too much about my host family in the last post, because I didn't really know them yet, but the many long meals that I've had so far on Avenida de los Comuneros have been excellent for getting-to-know-you time with the host family. My host mom is a really good cook, and, to tell you the truth, I really like the eating schedule that Spaniards are on. They have a normal-sized breakfast, a larger lunch, and a slightly smaller dinner. This week, with my 10am orientation classes, I have been having breakfast at about 8:45. Typically, Spaniards have a "pincho" (another word for tapas) in mid-morning, which for them is noon. Then, at 2 or 2:30, they have "la comida" (lunch), which, in my house, usually consists of some sort of soup, salad, and other main plate. Dinner sort of changes. Some of my favorite things that my host mom makes are: pumpkin cream soup ("sopa de calabaza") and a salad with pomegranate seeds ("granadas") in it. Sooooo good! And I have salad once a day, and fruit after every meal. I have never eaten more healthily in my life, and, even though I'm still planning on joining a gym, the fact that I'm eating really healthy food, am not hungry enough to snack (which is typically my Achilles heel) in between meals, and am walking everywhere makes me feel a lot better than I did with the endless supplies of bread in France. In fact, I'm never hungry enough to eat the ridiculous quantities of food that my host mom thinks I should be eating. Spaniards have the right idea, and that's why they're all thin (they also smoke like smokestacks, though).

Related to the smoking issue, I thought France, with its walls of smoke outside every classroom building, was bad, but Spain is about a gazillion times worse. Not only does everyone smoke, but smoking is allowed indoors (unlike in France, where a smoking ban in all public indoor places was recently enacted). So an hour in a café leaves all of my clothes smelling like cigarette smoke. It's really chilly here now, and I'm running out of sweaters! They all smell of smoke, and I can't bear to wear them again until after they're washed.

Well, that was an interesting tangent. To go back to my host family, they're absolutely awesome! As I said, my host mom is very accommodating to my vegetarianism, and, even though she tries to push food on me (in vain), I still really like her cooking. I had a very significant linguistic victory yesterday when she told me that I can "tutear" her (refer to her in the informal "tú" form, rather than the more formal "Ud." form), which is very significant. Spanish, like French, has very strict rules about who you can refer to informally and who you must refer to formally. Adults, people you have just met, and others generally worthy of respect are referred to formally, while you refer to people your own age or people who you are very comfortable with informally. So for me, the fact that Inés told me to tutear her means that she thinks of me as a part of the family, which feels very nice. I referred to Angelita (my French host mom) in the formal "vous" form for the entire semester, and, after only two days of living with Inés, she told me to refer to her informally. For a language nerd like me, these things are exciting! She also told me almost instantly that I speak very good Spanish, but I think she was just being nice when she said it, because, at that point, I was still inserting French words into my Spanish conversations. Surprisingly, though, my Spanish has come back to me very easily, so I'm pleased and am not feeling as lost as I thought I would at this juncture. She said to me yesterday, though, that she thinks that I speak Spanish with a French accent. Her 26 year-old daughter, Noelia, disagreed, and when I asked her what specifically sounded French to her, she couldn't give any examples, but it was interesting nonetheless.

Today, I also dealt with the more administrative side of things. I still hadn't broached the subject of payment to my host mom, so I finally asked her today. She said that it's fine with her if I pay her at the end of every month, which was sort of what I was hoping for. This semester, instead of paying a lump sum to Georgetown for the university tuition and room and board, we have to pay Georgetown for tuition and then pay the families ourselves every week, biweekly, or every month (the cost is 20 euros per night). This is the system that Kate has with her host family, and I remember thinking it was strange when I visited her. I still don't like it, but that's what I have to do, so I'll do it. Then, I asked her about laundry: if your host mom does your laundry and irons, it's 12 euros per week, but, since I don't need to have my clothes ironed, I'll hopefully get my laundry done for half-price. I asked the question in a way that suggested that I wanted to wash my clothes in our machine myself so as to avoid the charge, but she said that either she has to do it or I have to go to a laundromat, which would basically be a waste of my time. So I'm hoping I can get the reduction for not needing ironing done. Lastly, I told her that my mom wanted to send me a package, and got my pre-orientation packet with the address on it to verify the mailing address. Afterwards, she read through much of the packet to me, which includes, among many other things, a list of general house protocol that Celia, our program director, compiled for us. As she read through each do or don't, she would nod or shake her head in disagreement, so basically, without really meaning to, I got the rules of the house. So basically, as a courtesy, I'm supposed to announce when I arrive and when I leave, generally keep her informed of my plans, and not have friends over (although I may ask her once or twice if I can have a friend over; I'm hoping that, as long as I clear it with her ahead of time, it will be fine).

Our first actual night here, we finally got to meet Celia and the other Georgetown students in our program. There are 7 of us (6 girls and a guy), which is a small group, but I think that study abroad participation is one of those things that goes in waves, and this just seems to be a light year for the particular programs that I'm in. We went out to eat and got to know each other a little bit, and then five of us went out. I was still incredibly jet-lagged from my sleepless 36 hours of travel, but I didn't want to me the lame-o who doesn't go out, so I went. It was a lot of fun. We went to two bars, and I had three shots/shooters (my first!), for which I paid a total of 1 euro!!!!!!! I bought the first one, and then Carter bought a round for all four of us girls, and then, at the second bar, the bartender gave us each a free shot. I'm glad that drinks are so cheap here, and they sort of have to be in order to entice college students to come to bars. I'm hoping, though, that I have enough sense not to drink way too much, because that's when Spanish guys take advantage of girls, when they're at their most vulnerable. I'm not a native, I'm not very familiar with the city, and I don't want to get in a situation where I can't walk home. Salamanca, and Spain in general, is more dangerous than Strasbourg was, so in that respect, I just have to be on my guard more. I was able to enjoy those drinks and feel absolutely fine, so I'm going to try and be sensible about it. Nonetheless, it was a really fun night, although we left at 2 (which is incredibly early for Spaniards, who don't normally leave bars until about 5).

I would like to end with a little reflection on tomorrow, the inauguration of our 44th President, Barack Obama. I am excited beyond belief to begin this new chapter of American history that promises to be full of change and hope. I wish, more than anything right now, that I could be there, even though I probably couldn't get anywhere near close enough to actually see the ceremony without Jumbotrons. Just the idea of being there, of seeing history being made, makes me want to stand for hours with a few million of my closest friends. I mean, come on, waiting outside in the cold with tons of people to see an exciting event- sort of my forté ;) (à la Georgetown basketball, in case you're lost right now). The idea that some people at Georgetown, who can WALK downtown, won't be going makes me upset, because they don't know how lucky they are to have the opportunity to go. Anyway, my biggest hope is that all goes as planned and that there are no security/safety issues, both for our President-elect and for everyone gathered in downtown D.C. I'll hopefully get to watch video of the event tomorrow, and our group is most definitely going out tomorrow to celebrate, sporting our Obama gear of course. God Bless America!

Sending all of you my love, and I promise that I'll post pictures when my internet lets me!

Kristen

¡Hemos llegado!

FINALLY, I can say that I'm in Salamanca!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was a miserable few days of traveling, and I was incredibly stressed out, but I'm glad that Molly and I made it in one piece and are finally here!!! It feels so surreal, and I can't wait to et out and explore (which will begin this afternoon and evening). I'm sorry I don't have any pictures to share yet- I know, you must be surprised!- but I'll make sure to put some up the next time I post! Anyway, let's go through the last few days of traveling, shall we?

Our flight left Atlanta at 6:30 on Thursday evening, and the two of us were already anxious and just ready to reach our final destination. I had been selected upon checkin for a random search (of course), and the man at the desk told me to make sure that my boarding pass was stamped when I went through security. Well, I went through security and showed the guy manning the metal detector my boarding pass, but he didn't say anything and just waved me on. So once I had gotten my luggage, I asked one of the other TSA workers what I needed to do. He took my boarding pass, and told me that he was glad that I had said something, because I would have been forced to go all the way back to security if I presented them with an unstamped boarding pass at the gate. It was a quick check and not a big deal, but something he said bothered me: he was explaining why they had failed to catch my boarding pass when I initially went through security, and said that they had already worked for 12 hours that day and were tired. Of course, I was sorry that he was tired on the job, but TSA needs to make sure that doesn't happen, because, if I can get through with a boarding pass marked with red Xs, what else is getting through security?

Finally, we were on our flight to London, and, despite all of my best efforts, I didn't sleep a wink. Molly, by now used to being so tired (from all of her all-nighters) that she can essentially fall asleep anywhere, was conked out, but I just wasn't tired enough to fall asleep. So when we arrived in London, I was still feeling okay, but knew I would be feeling it in no time, especially since we had a 7-hour layover before our flight to Madrid. We sat, for almost all of the 7 hours, and used our computers, and let me tell you, seven hours have never moved so slowly.

At one point during our flight to London, I had started to get a little worried about the last legs of our journey, the one from Madrid to Salamanca. We had chosen to take the bus rather than the train, at the suggestion of my friend Tim, who went to Salamanca last year. But neither of us had been able to contact our families- Molly's didn't have an email address, and I had emailed mine twice but didn't receive any response. So I was starting to think that, rather than wander around in the middle of the night looking for our apartments without knowing whether anyone would be home- and phoneless, I might add- maybe it would be a better idea to stay in a hotel. Not wanting to show up unannounced at a random hotel at 11pm and hope that they had a room available, I searched for hostels and hotels, both in Madrid and Salamanca. The search in Madrid was entirely fruitless, and only one option looked promising in Salamanca. And while it was 50 euros each for one night, I thought that was a small price to pay for feeling safe.

However, literally the second after I booked the hotel, our program coordinator, Celia, emailed me and told me that she was going to book us a hotel for that night (which Georgetown would pay for). I was PISSED, because I had literally just booked a 100-euro hotel room and had no phone to call and cancel. So I sent Celia another email and told her we had already booked a hotel, so the problem was solved. She said that she would contact our families and tell them that we would be coming today. Okay, first problem solved. Yes, first, meaning that we had another potential roadblock in the way. Celia also asked in her email if she wanted her to buy our bus tickets, because a lot of students go to Salamanca on Friday nights for the night or for the weekend. Great, I was thinking, now we'll be stuck in the sketchy bus station all night and won't be able to leave because all of the buses will be full. Luckily, though, we got there and were able to buy tickets with no problem for an 8 o'clock bus. We had a little bit of trouble finding our particular bus, because there were several buses going to Salamanca, and we needed the first one. They were all labeled, but the drivers kept changing them. But eventually, we found our bus. The ride was painfully long; the person in front of me had reclined their seat so that I had very little room, and my feet were in agony after having worn my riding boots for nearly 24 hours. The 2 1/2-hour ride CRAWLED. When we arrived at the station, we caught a cab and drove to our hotel, and I was wondering, for entire ride, if the desk would still be open. I had no idea what we would do if reception was closed, so, luckily for us, it wasn't. We each took much-needed showers and brushed our teeth, and, since we didn't have to check out until noon, we got a chance to catch up on a little bit of sleep.

This morning, feeling slightly more rested, we took a cab to our apartments. Luckily, Molly lives about a half-block away from me!!!! I'm so excited! Anyway, I got to my building and buzzed up to my apartment, only to find that no one was home. An old man held the door for me so that I could get into the building, and I went up to my apartment, ringing the bell and getting no answer. So I sat in the hall and futzed around on my computer until my very apologetic host mom showed up about 10 minutes later. Apparently her elderly mother was at home, but is hard of hearing, so didn't hear the bell ring. My host mom seems really nice, and I got to meet my host sister briefly, who also seems nice, so I'll give you more details when I have them. Right now, I'm going out exploring with Molly, so you'll find out more about Salamanca soon!

Sending you my love,
Kristen

Las vacaciones

Yup, switching over to Spanish! I'm trying to rectify my former Spanish competence, so we'll see how that goes. Let's just say that I'm still speaking in French, so my translation process is: 1) English, 2) how do I say that in French?, 3) How on earth do I say that in Spanish?

Very little has changed since the last time I wrote, except for the fact that I'm becoming increasingly more aware that I'm obsessed with Gilmore Girls. I'm pretty sure that, at my height (or my depth, depending on how you think about it), I watched 8 or 9 episodes in one day- which, although pathetic, was incredibly enjoyable. I even reached a new low of pathetic Gilmore Girls viewership, because, a few nights ago, I had a Gilmore Girls dream. For those of you who watch the show, you'll know what I mean when I say that I had a Luke dream. So you can imagine that it was a pretty fantastic dream. I've actually surpassed Molly at this point, so that gives me an opportunity to slow down a little!

I figured I would fill you in on my 3-week short stay in the USA because it has been packed with things to do and people to see. I didn't waste any time jumping back in to life at home, and I got my hair chopped to a bob the day after my arrival. Right afterward, I wet to Michael's Crafts, which is essentially my heaven-on-earth, and got all of the necessary supplies for my Strasbourg scrapbook. That store is dangerously addicting, because the dollars add up very quickly with the scrapbook, special paper, stickers, and other embellishments. I worked for the rest of the day, and all of Christmas Eve day, on the scrapbook, and actually ran out of pages, so I had to go back to Michael's to restock. I was really pleased with the end result, even though I churned it out the quickest of any scrapbook I've ever made. Hopefully all of you will get to see it at some point!

Christmas day was relatively uneventful in the Bautz house. It didn't even really feel like Christmas, because my family hadn't even decorated the tree until Christmas Eve so as to wait until I, the biggest Christmas fan in the house, got home. So I turned on the Bing Crosby Christmas tunes (and yes, I'm pretty sure that my family judged me for knowing the words to Mele Kalikimaka), and, with my mom perched on her usual chair dispensing hooks, we hung all of our ornaments, wondering where we had gotten many of them. On Christmas morning, we all sat around the tree, and opened our gifts, which took all of ten minutes. We just had a few large presents this year (new MacBooks for Tim and I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), but they were very much appreciated. Then, my mom made her world-famous Christmas rolls, delectable as usual, and, after Tim set up my computer, we all got dressed and headed down to Rye for Christmas dinner with the Kingham-Bezes. It was so nice to get to see some of the extended family while I was home for such a short time, and, since my cousin Kelly has two little (ADORABLE) kids, Kaitlin and Alexzander, it was fun to have some little ones to entertain.

The 29th was a day that I had been eagerly anticipating for months, because it was the day of the Georgetown-UConn game in Hartford. The second I had found out about this game, I pestered my dad and my friends Maggie and Anne Mary to get us tickets. My dad was finally able to procure some from Athletics, and our friends the Devlins came up for the game too, always a comedic addition to our group. As it turned out, our seats were God-awful (we were, quite literally, in the nosebleeds), but at least we were sitting with the Georgetown contingent (in fact, Jessie Sapp's sister was sitting right in front of us and was absolutely hilarious). It was an incredible game: I was sitting with Maggie, AMC, Tim, Jack, Caki, Henry, and one of Henry's friends from home. We were, not surprisingly, very into it I even started the fight song by myself when Maggie and Henry bailed on me!- and my voice was really strained afterward. Against the advice of my parents, I had Maggie paint my entire face, per usual- despite the fact that we were in enemy territory. I thought that the Husky fans would harass me, but they were much nicer than their counterparts at Syracuse. If anyone said anything, it was, "Go Hoyas!," or "Hoya Saxa!." We played really well, and knocked off the number two Huskies 74-63. I was saying to AMC afterward that, although I'm the most superstitious sports fan EVER, it never even occurred to me that my Hoyas would lose the only game that their biggest fan was at this year.

The following weekend was my much-anticipated trip to Boston to see Alexandra, Kristin, and Josh. I went to Alexandra's house right after a Hoya loss (so I had a little more road rage than usual as I drove on the Mass Pike), and we went into Harvard Square, which is so cute and quaint, and poked around all of the cute little shops that lined the snow-covered streets. We made some good purchases- I found presents for my host family, a birthday gift for my mom, and a couple of things for me. We took all of our requisite photos frolicking around Harvard Square, and then headed back to Alex's house for a delicious feast of cheese AND chocolate fondue prepared by her mom. Then we settled in by the fireplace and watched a few episodes of Gossip Girl, and stayed up chatting. It was so nice to catch up, since we had a semester worth of chatting to catch up on (even though we took advantage of that wonderful invention that they call Skype throughout the semester).

The next morning, we coordinated with Kristin and Josh, and decided that we would meet Kristin in the city for some shopping in the early afternoon, and then would grab some lunch in the North End and meet up with Josh. I always love moments when someone you haven't seen in awhile comes out of an airport or a train station, but it was especially wonderful to see two of my summer housemates when they emerged from their respective T stations. I had Skyped with both of them several times, but Kristin didn't have a webcam, meaning that I couldn't actually SEE her. I missed them both so much this semester, especially since I have such fond memories of our summer at our little Burrow :) I loved catching up with them and hearing how everything is with them- Josh is applying for jobs, and I am really not looking forward to the fact that, a year from now, I'll be in the same boat, faced with the prospect of leaving the insular little environment that is Georgetown. I can't even think about it right now- I'm just focusing on having a fun (and hopefully completely stress-free) semester in Spain, and then I can start worrying about all of that when the time comes. Anyway, it was incredibly sad when I had to say goodbye to the three of them to go back home, because that means another semester without seeing all of them, another semester where my only connection to the outside world is Skype. But don't get me wrong, I AM excited for all of the adventures that this semester hold. I feel so fortunate to get the chance to go back to the Continent again and travel all over creation- not many people get the chance to do that, so I really feel lucky that my parents are totally on board for all of my traveling.

Thursday was my last day at home, and it was a surreal feeling, because I had really only been at home for two-and-a-half weeks. So a part of me really just wanted another week or two to lounge around (and maybe finish Gilmore Girls?!?), but, on the other hand, I am really ready to embark on my Spanish adventure. On Thursday night, we celebrated my mom's birthday and had some family time. My mom's plan was to watch the college football BCS game, but that was, of course, thwarted, when we had a minor packing meltdown. My dad suggested, at the last minute, that we try to fit all of my stuff into one suitcase and one duffel, no small feat for me- ESPECIALLY give that I have so many clothes and am packing for two seasons. We finally did it (but not until we got to Dulles on Tuesday), but on that note, let me just take a minute to express my dislike for airline baggage policies. My suitcase is not even close to being full, but, because it weighs about 15 pounds by itself, I really couldn't put that much in it, or else it would surpass the maximum weight of 50 pounds. I think they should take the weight of suitcases themselves into account when determining baggage weight limits.

Anyway, on Friday, my mom and I made the 9-hour drive down to the Shenandoah Valley to visit my grandparents, who I hadn't seen since May. I always love seeing Grammy and Grampsy, even though they always seem a little overwhelmed when they have lots of houseguests. They recently acquired a new dog, Disney, from my uncle Kevin out in Colorado, and it is really fun to see Grampsy around the dog. He is incredibly affectionate with the dog, and absolutely melts in his presence, and Disney, in turn, follows him around to no end. The other houseguests this weekend were my aunt, uncle, and two cousins, who I hadn't seen since June, so keeping with the trend of this vacation, I saw a lot of people in a very short amount of time. I really loved catching up with my cousins; Amy is my age, and we have always been close (aside from when we were toddlers and were not really sure about each other- this fact can be confirmed in the endless hours of home video that we have), so we had a lot to talk about; and Michael, who graduated from high school this past year and spent fall semester at a NOLS program in Patagonia. It looks, from his pictures, like he had a blast, and I could tell from talking to him that it was just what he needed. On Saturday, the girls (Grammy, my aunt Susan, my mom, Amy and I) went to this adorable little tea place that we really like for lunch and, of course, tea. Even though my friends were horrified to learn that I went out for tea with my family instead of watching the Georgetown game, I always love our ladies' tea lunches. It has always been a good family bonding activity.

A few funny things happened this weekend: first, I gave Grammy my old Mac laptop and attempted to teach her how to use it; and second, we watched home videos of when my mom, my aunts, and my uncle were growing up. Teaching Grammy how to use the computer was, well, one of the funniest experiences of my life. I think that getting her a Skype account may have opened up a can of worms, as did teaching her the shortcut for quitting an app (apple + Q, in case you were wondering) and the shortcut for scrolling up and down a page (scroll on the touchpad with two fingers). I think I was relatively patient with her, though, because I know it's a lot of information to digest at once, especially for someone who has never had her own computer. Once I showed her how to play a DVD in the computer, she was happy as a clam. On Sunday night, we watched the now infamous home video. This was another instance of Grammy shocking me with her interest in technology: apparently, she was at Costco one day and saw a sign at the photo center for the option of converting home videos into DVD format, so she went home, got all of the home videos she still had, and had DVDs made for all four of her children. So the four of us (Grammy, Grampsy, my mom and myself) sat down and watched it on Sunday night, and even without sound (the vids WERE for the '50s and '60s, after all), it was hilarious. However my mom sensed that a pattern was emerging when, with each year that passed, the clip that followed Christmas was not her birthday in January but her older sister Susan's birthday in July. So she joked that, technically, she was only two years old, because only two of her birthdays were documented. It was funny to see her take on the attitude of the sibling scorned, however much she was joking.

Another part of my scheme for break was to go back to Georgetown for at least an overnight. Initially, my mom was really resistant, because she thought that it would just make me sad to go back to my beloved Georgetown, but boy, am I glad I did! It was a whirlwind 15 hours, which I think will be the most evident if I lay out what happened, so here goes:
4:30 Visit with the Porterfields
5:30 Quick visit with Kim and Derek, two senior friends
6:00 Brought all of my stuff to Kristin and Alexandra's apartment
6:30 Dinner at Sweet Green with Alexandra, Kristin, and Anne Mary
7:30 Chat with Tim, a friend who went to Salamanca last year (Kevin stopped by as well)
8:00 Gossip Girl (I missed part of it because, not having watched an episode live since September, I had forgotten that the show started at 8, not 9. Oh well...)
8:45ish Kamil and his friend Kesse stopped by
9:30 I FINALLY got to meet Kevin, Kristin's boyfriend
10:45ish Maggie stopped by
1:00am BED!

In addition to all of this, there were a bunch of phone conversations thrown in with other friends. For example, Josh called, because he was in D.C. on Monday and Tuesday doing job interviews and going to job information sessions, so, once again, three Burrowites were in the same city. Neither of us had any time to get together, but it was nice to hear from him. To paint you a picture of how amazing a time I had at Georgetown, let's just say that the smile didn't leave my face from the moment I stepped on campus...no, I take that back, pretty much from the moment we entered the D.C. metro area. I told my mom, as we drove through McLean, that I had butterflies in my stomach from being so excited, and luckily, Georgetown and my friends didn't disappoint. I convinced my mom to drive by the Burrow, too, so I had a little moment with my former house :)

Leaving Georgetown the next morning was not at all pleasant, but it was nothing compared to how I felt when I said goodbye to my mom. Before it happened, I was thinking to myself, 'Hey, I'm an old pro at this by now, I'm not going to cry.' W-R-O-N-G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was majorly early for my flight (not surprising, for those of you who know me well), but I just wanted to rip the Band-Aid off and get through security, because I knew it would be excruciating. I should say, first, that I somehow managed, by the grace of God, to fit almost all of my stuff in my one rolling suitcase, one small duffel, and my backpack (although my mom is sending me a small load of spring clothes) and not incur any overweight baggage fees. But my mom and I were rearranging and debating until the bitter end, and , believe me, it was not pleasant. It seemed to me that the Delta employee who took charge of my personal case took some sort of perverse pleasure out of watching my mom take things out of my suitcase to get it down from its original weight of 58 pounds to about 52, frantically rearranging objects. Needless to say, I didn't appreciate it. So by the time I got to security, I was already worked up and wanted nothing more than to go home and never leave again. but I got in line after hugging my mom twice and immediately breaking into tears. So much for being the seasoned traveler immune to homesickness. Mu mom stayed until I got through security, which was nice, just in case there was a problem, but awful at the same time, because every time I looked back at her, I started to cry. But I made it to my terminal and settled in at my gate, immersing myself in the world of Gilmore Girls for two hours to numb the pain.

When I stepped off my airplane (I had cried intermittently during the flight) I was in Atlanta, and, after what felt like the longest walk ever (with an incredibly heavy duffel slung over my shoulder), I spotted Molly and Mary Kathryn, who were ready to take me on a little tour of the city. Our first stop was Margaret Mitchell (the author of "Gone with the Wind")'s house, which was interesting. After that, we needed some sustenance, so stopped at the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. Then we saw the play Hairspray, which was one of those productions that made me want to get up and dance!

By the time we got back to Dalton last night, it was almost midnight, and, despite the latte I had had before the show (my first latte ever!), I was tired. But I soon got my second wind, and we stayed up until 3:30 talking, then proceeding to sleep until noon. I always feel bad about myself when I sleep in that much, but I guess I needed the sleep.

I can't believe I've leaving tomorrow. I'm terrified, on the one hand, that I will have forgotten all of my Spanish, but, on the other hand, can't wait for all of the adventures that this semester will bring. So the next time I post, I'll be in Spain!!!!!! Sorry for the excessively long post, but, as you can see, a lot has happened over a very short period of time. I hope all is well with all of you, and as always, I'm

Sending you my love,
Kristen

La fin de Strasbourg

I know I've been a complete and total slacker about updating the blog this break, but I have literally been the most unproductive individual on the planet this vacation. I now own all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls, and am currently on season five. Every day, when I've watched my fifth or sixth 45-minute episode of the day, I start to feel a little bad about myself, but it still doesn't stop me from watching more. If Lorelai and Luke don't end up together, I will have wasted a lot of sleepless nights.

Anyway, I promised I would chronicle my last few days in Strasbourg, my long trip home, and what I've been up to this vacation (aside from my new, aforementioned couch-potato tendencies). Leaving Strasbourg was actually a lot harder than I had imagined. Once I finished my exam on Thursday, I was just ready to be done and peace out of Strasbourg. I just wanted to see my family and sleep in my own bed. But I still had a lot of miles between me and home, so I had to make the best of it. I squeezed in a few more workouts at what turned out to be an amazing (and seemingly elusive) gym, which was probably one of the things that most helped me maintain my sanity. On Thursday evening, I met up with four of the Holy Cross girls at Theresa's house, and we baked white chocolate chip-cranberry-oatmeal cookies, and consumed ridiculous amounts of dough and all of the added ingredients. They have become really good friends of mine, so it was nice to get to spend time with them. They'll all be in Strasbourg for the rest of the year (HoCro only offers yearlong programs), but hopefully, if our promises don't prove to be empty, we'll be able to find a time for them to come to Spain, and I'm hoping to go back to Strasbourg for Obama's visit in April. After our baking spree, we went to a classical music concert, put on by the Marc Bloch music department. The groups weren't that great, so we scooted out as soon as we could and went to a pub. All I really wanted was a Cosmo, but of course, they don't have cranberry juice in France (silly me for even asking!) so we all got beers. That night, I got to meet the two other people from the Holy Cross group that I hadn't met yet, and I've decided that they're all pretty incredible.

On Saturday morning, my host mom took me to the train station. I had been trying to decide, for several days, how I was going to get myself and my mountainload of stuff (two rolling suitcases, a duffel and a backpack) to the train station: my phone had run out of minutes on Monday, so I couldn't call a cab, and I decided that trying to ride the tram for free with that much baggage was pretty much asking to get caught, so I gladly accepted when my host mom offered to drive me to the gare. Before we left, I gave her the odd assortment of gifts that I had found for her throughout the semester, and she gave me a wrapped gift, telling me not to open it until I got on the train because it would make me cry. I opened it when I got to Frankfurt, and, big surprise, I did cry. It was a recipe book, that she had made, for Tarte Kristen, the tarte she had learned to make for me. It had pictures and text and was absolutely adorable, and it was such a personal, heartfelt gift, so I very much appreciated it. She said a ton of really nice things about me in the car, which only made me not want to leave her even more. Once at the gare, I found my train, and nearly fell up the stairs trying to drag my two gargantuan suitcases at once. Luckily, a nice man helped me by carrying one, but I think he soon regretted his offer to help.

The first train was fine, but, as usual, it was a little bit late. I had only had eight minutes in between trains to begin with, but I was freaking out. In Offenburg, Germany, where I had to change trains, there was not a digitized schedule, only a written timetable, and it turned out that my second train was not leaving from the same platform. I ran to the elevator, which I was thrilled to see, and raced over to the other platform, making it by about two minutes (which is cutting it close for me). Everything was going well on the second train until, about an hour into the ride, the screen that I was looking at listed the next stop as Interlaken Ost (which is about three hours outside of where I wanted to be). So I started panicking. Was I on the wrong train? What was I going to do. Luckily, there must have been an error on the screen, because the next stop was, in fact, Frankfurt. I caught a cab and drove to my hotel, which was really quite nice considering what I paid for it. I lay in the custom bed and watched movies. It was really nice to decompress.

Early Sunday morning, I flew to Dublin. After a few annoying incidents in the airport (including having to go through security twice, and having to remove my riding boots twice after being told that I could keep them on; of COURSE they would set off the buzzer, they have metal clasps!), I was in lovely Ireland, and was thrilled to get that passport stamp. My hotel was downtown, about a half-hour cab ride from the airport, and my cabbie was an adorable little old Irish man, who proved to be half cabbie and half tour guide. I have him to thank for a lot of the things I ended up doing, because I probably wouldn't have known about them otherwise. Once I checked into my ADORABLE hotel (more like a B&B), which was right on St. Stephen's Green, I walked around the downtown area that wasn't far from the hotel, stopping at Dublin Castle and Trinity College (a trip to see the Book of Kells and the library upstairs that made me feel like I was in Beauty and the Beast), waltzing down Grafton Street, the main shopping street, which was teeming with holiday shoppers. I then walked over to O'Connell Street, the true city center, and then wandered over to the Christmas Market, which in no way rivaled Strasbourg's. By that point, it was pouring, so I quickly located a Starbucks and then went back to the hotel. I was finally able to reach my parents, who had been worriedly trying to reach me for about an hour- my phone never rang- and then talked to poor Kate, who was very distressed, because Dave had been due to arrive that day, but, due to a ridiculous winter storm back in New England, was stuck in Connecticut.

On Monday morning, I walked around the city for a little while longer, but was excited to head back to the airport. The airport turned out to be a major headache, because we had to go through American customs just to get into our terminal. Of course, the customs officials weren't even in their booths, so we had to wait in several lines just to get our passports checked. But before I knew it, I was on my plane headed back to Boston. Right up until a few minutes before takeoff, there was an empty seat beside me. I thought it was strange, especially given the fact that it was holiday time. But finally a guy showed up and sat down in the window seat. He's a film student at NYU, and was just returning to Boston from an amazing semester in Madrid, so our respective study abroad experiences gave us a lot to talk about. Thank God he was there, because, had he not been there, the flight would have passed even more slowly than it did with him there. I was giddy with excitement as I walked off the plane, wearing my Red Sox hat proudly in celebration of being home. However, we still had one more layer of customs to go through, meaning that my family wasn't waiting for me in baggage claim. It took me nearly an hour after landing to get my bags, during which I was practically crying, because I knew my family was just beyond the doors, but I couldn't see them until I had my bags.

Once I grabbed my two suitcases off of the belt, I practically ran past the customs man and through the double doors. I saw Tim first. He was sitting down (probably because he was about to pass out from hunger). Then I saw my dad. My mom must have been standing behind him, because I didn't even see her initially. And then I saw a mass of blond hair, and my jaw dropped. Alexandra had called my mom the night before and asked if she thought it would be okay if she met me at the airport. I was so excited to see her, and obviously appreciated the gesture more than she will ever know. Just seeing another familiar face was so nice! My parents had told her mom that we would take her out to dinner, and, after a lot of driving around and lots of protests from a very hungry Tim, we decided on The Cheesecake Factory at the Atrium Mall, a few minutes from Alexandra's house. After we dropped her off at home, we drove back home, and the hour-and-fifteen-minute drive dragged on FOREVER. I was so relieved that I had made it in one piece (Dave had finally arrived in Italy the day I got home, so it was a doubly exciting day!), and I was so happy to be with my family again and in my own house.

Okay, so, since this is getting a little wordy (as my posts tend to get), I'll write about vacation in my next post. Stay tuned!!!

Sending you my love,
Kristen