And so it begins

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One feeling that I will never get over is the loneliness one feels in a city. Life, movement, and emotion surround you, but you're alone, by yourself. You feel mysteriously isolated while simultaneously being cradled by life at her finest. I love that. Call me an emotional masochist (I won’t disagree with you), but I have always been sickly fascinated by a city’s ability to totally isolate you. It is strangely liberating to be able to walk crowded streets, observing little dramas, watching people LIVE, and still anonymously blend into the background. For those of you that don’t know, I despise talking on the phone. I hate that at any given time, anyone can contact me. Text me, call me, leave me a voicemail, email me, skype me… In this age, we’re immediately accessible, married to technology. Sprint and I went through a messy divorce, and I haven’t felt the need to rebound yet (SHOCKER, since I am a devout believer in rebounds). Yet the 2 weeks I spent in this city without the Internet or my phone turned out to be a welcome temporary change. Maybe one day I’ll actually have the balls to just become one of those nomadic hippies without a landline or a cell phone. My mom once told me it’s a gift that I love to be alone with myself and all my intense emotions, and I think I might finally believe her.
But the blissful loneliness came to her abrupt ending with the arrival of my roommates, the start of the Masters program, and the beginning of my internship. (Maybe I was so comfortable being alone because I knew it was temporary. Why is it that those temporary emotions we experience are always the most intoxicating?) My first roommate, Erin, is sadistically funny with her offbeat sense of humor and inability to blend in with any crowd. My other roommate, Michelle, is one of my good friends from college so seeing her was like seeing a piece of home come visit me in Spain…HUGE relief.
We had two days of orientation where we were able to meet other people in our program (let me tell you, the accessibility of facebook makes for some awkward in-person meetings…
Creeper #1--“Hey, you’re Liz, right? I think I recognize you from your facebook pictures?”
Me (mildly disturbed)—“Hmm, really? And who are you?”
(I’m sorry if I don’t rely on facebook to accommodate my social networking shortcomings…)
Anyway, despite the initial meetings, the people in my program are FUN and they know how to have a good time (coming from a serious party school recognized multiple times in Playboy’s annual list, that’s saying something). I finally went out for the first time in Madrid! I had deep conversations (what else would you expect from me?) about why Spanish boys think American girls are easy, why American girls aren’t ALL easy, and why I spit on the girls who play into that stereotype. Apart from the conversation, the Spanish know how to party (even though some of the boys could use a few dancing lessons… last time I checked, swinging your hips with your hands in the air surrounded by all your closest straight male friends isn’t a common sight in the states. We went to one bar with a live Irish band playing familiar songs such as Hootie’s Hold my Hand and some other classic rock one’s that I can’t remember. I know that I have absolutely no room to talk since I’m trying to learn Spanish, but hearing Spanish boys sing at the top of their lungs to classic songs with an accuracy rate of 50% is kind of funny. I also learned that bars give random free chupitos to people (I’m sure my group got a lot of attention as foreigners, it might have been that Daniel’s that sent me over the edge…). I miraculously made it back to my place at 430 and passed out. Pretty good for my first time.
I also went to my school where I’ll be the “Conversation Teacher” for the next year and learned that it has 2000 students, and I have been placed with the 13-18 year old age group. Ironically, my 26 year old peer got placed with the primary grades so I will be essentially teaching kids who I might see out at night attempting to belt out Augustana’s Boston. I’m equal parts excited and intimidated by my age group. The younger ones (up until about 16) I’ll be fine with…but the older kids should be interesting. Plus the class sizes average at about 35-40, so this will present a challenge since I’m used to small, accommodating groups of 12. To top it all off, I have to pretend I can’t speak Spanish (we’ll see how THAT goes, since I’ll be able to understand what they’re saying behind my back… keep it G-rated, hormonal Spanish boys) so I’m basically force feeding them the English language and American culture. I guess my age could really work for or against me here. Being younger, they might think I know about cool stuff in the states (OBVIOUSLY), but I’m worried they won’t listen to me at all and I won’t have any control (I think the control freak inside of me will get a needed kick in the ass). Oh AND I was really sick the morning of my orientation. I’ll spare you the gory details, but throwup was a constant threat until that night and the 45 minute metro ride had me planning elaborate escape routes to the nearest trashcan just in case the worst would happen. I must have looked pale, petrified, and wide eyed because all of the teachers kept glancing at me with worried looks and reassuring me that everything would be fine. Curse my big eyes and the deer in the headlights look that seems bonded to them.
Anyway, those are the updates I have for now… thanks for caring enough to read and for writing some comments! I recently discovered skype works worlds better than gmail video chat, so skype me (if you need my name, email me and I’ll give it to you, I’m not looking to get some creepers skyping me haha).

I love and miss everyone from home!

Liz

Songs of the entry:
Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap---a personal anthem
How We Operate by Gomez—choosing between these two causes me emotional turmoil.

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