<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559</id><updated>2009-10-14T08:10:10.595-06:00</updated><title type='text'>las aventuras de cata...o sea, "cati buuuuuk"</title><subtitle type='html'>"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness."   -Mark Twain</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-521193062463643114</id><published>2008-06-06T18:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:20:41.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>MOROCCO!!</title><content type='html'>Alright, I realize it's now been over a month since I went to Morocco, but after I got back I was swamped with tests (believe it or not...), packing, and living life, so I just never got around to writing about it...but hey, better late than never, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnou5ye2hI/AAAAAAAAFzM/yncA8TAHBmU/s1600-h/IMGP1458.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnou5ye2hI/AAAAAAAAFzM/yncA8TAHBmU/s200/IMGP1458.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208950336514873874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. I'd have to say that my weekend in Morocco was officially one of my favorite weekends the entire semester...crazy! Let's see, I loved it that much, that I basically have a play-by-play here, it's long and (maybe) detailed, so just warning.&lt;br /&gt;I went with a program called Morocco Exchange, which is set up to cater just small groups of students, take them to parts of Morocco that one wouldn't get the chance to see or experience were they just traveling as tourists, and is basically the only way I'd want to go to Morocco...maybe because it's a country that is just so foreign to me--people, religion, culture, etc.--so what the program offered was just incredible, costs aside. haha.&lt;br /&gt;Morocco was incredible. incredible. I honestly can't put into words my experience, I had soo much fun, made some amazing friends, and learned a ton! wow! . So I left Granada Wednesday evening on a bus to the port city Algeciras to spend the night in a hostal, cuz Thursday morning we all met up at 8 am to take the ferry across the Straight. Immediately I clicked with this girl, Jenny, she was wearing a track and field shirt, and so I just asked her about that, and luckily she turned out to be in my group! (there were 3 different groups going, ours was the best, we had the most dynamic people and we all bonded...according to yours truly.) So anyway, Jenny came with some other people from her program in Cordoba, a group of students from all over California, and she and her 'best' friend in the group, Jen, and I just all clicked right away, which was something I was actually fearing. Going alone and not with a group had worried me until I met our group...because if you know me you know I can be suuper shy, so I had told myself I COULDNT be timid or hold back because if I didn't make friends I'd be miserable the whole time, so luckily it all worked out. anyway,so basically in our group there was 16 or 17 of us, and our leader was Lindsey, a girl who was in the Peace Corps in Morocco a year ago for 2 years, and for the past year she's just been doing this Morocco Exchange program and living in Spain. It was her last trip as a leader cuz she's returning to the states for grad school, which made it really nostalgic and bittersweet for her, but she was an amazing leader. She speaks Arabic and knows a ton about the culture, the people, the history, etc. which definitely benefited our group...So we get to Morocco, we land in Tangiers, an up and coming port city that the king is trying to develop, and we exchange money, get our van, and head over to a more central location where Lindsey and all of us got out and basically just followed her around the crazy market while she bought us tons of fruit and snacks for later. This market was crazy. Crazier than in Chile. They sell ANYTHING and EVERYTHING food related you could ever possibly want or imagine. There were dead chickens hanging from strings, chickens with their heads still on but all plucked so it looked really funny and weird, tons of fruit and veggies, and other random stuff. it was really cool. After that we all headed over to a place called Darna, it's a women's center that provides lessons in tons of things to help women learn a skill so they can then find a job. They teach languages there, teach them how to use computers, how to sew and weave both traditionally and 'modernly', there's a salon where they can learn how to wash and style and cut hair, there's a kitchen where they learn how to cook, and then they sell their products, no matter what it is, and all the proceeds benefit the center to make it better. There we talked to 2 translation students from the university and one linguistics student. A side note: most Moroccans speak various languages: French, Arabic (both classical and Morocco's dialect), English and Spanish. We all sat and had tea together and we were able to ask them any questions we had, that we had thought about before, or that we had observed in the last 1 hr of being in Morocco. That discussion was reaaaallllllly interesting. We got to cover topics from politics, to religion to dating to homosexuality to school to free time. I mean, you're in this country that is an hour away from Europe, but is still so different, and it really gets you thinking. And then on top of that you add the whole religion element, since it forms a HUGE part of their life, and you're just filled with amazement and curiosity and bewilderment and  excitement and a sense that you'll just never fully understand. But it's exhilarating, and that's basically how I felt the whole long weekend.&lt;br /&gt;After that we all had lunch together, it was this delicious chicken tagine (?) dish served in some sort of broth with bread and veggies. Then we all got back in the van and headed off to the capital city of Rabat. But on the way, Lindsey 'surprised' us (most of us knew...oops) with stopping along the side of the road to ride camels on the beach!! Obviously I was stoked, so the camel experience was fun. It was just a short walk on the camel, like 5 minutes, but it was still cool. camels are WEIRD. and some are SCARY. especially when there is a pregnant one, the male one likes to try and attack her. it's scary. luckily they tied up the fierce male. Ok a note for whoever may ride a camel in the future: when camels get up and then go down, their joints are ridiculous. the advice lindsey gave us was just "hold on" oh man was she right. When they're standing up, it feels like you're going to fall off the back of them, and when their going down, it feel like you're going to go off the front of them. Luckily neither happened, though some pictures of me seem the opposite...haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnnaE1HuhI/AAAAAAAAFys/MEqMaWi-V8E/s1600-h/IMGP1484.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnnaE1HuhI/AAAAAAAAFys/MEqMaWi-V8E/s200/IMGP1484.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208948879189850642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so after that, we got back in the van, all of us needing to pee like none other, for a little bit more car ride. Once we got to Rabat, Lindsey brought us all to this one house, it was our meeting spot and the boys in our groups' host family, where we met our host families. Luckily we got to choose our roommates so Jenny and Jen and I hooked up and decided to wait for the family that wasn't there yet, and ended up waiting a good hour and drinking tea with this unknown yet so welcoming family that we can't even communicate with, to wait for our host sister to pick us up. It was during this time, and right when we got to the house to be introduced to everyone, when I really realized the importance of community in the Moroccan life. Everyone is community, and apparently up to 7 neighbors on each side of your house is normally treated as family. It's just so important in their culture, and probably my favorite part. So anyway, the tea there, MINT TEA, is to die for. First of all, they use about 25 spoonfuls of sugar per teapot, and man its just soooo good. haha when we were talking to the students earlier in the day we talked about the tea and how it's just something you can drink whenever you want--there's no certain 'tea time' in morocco cuz tea is perfect for every situation, I don't blame them. hah and then one student, when we asked approximately how often he drinks this tea a day, he responded, "usually 15 times" HOLY COW. AND, not surprisingly, diabetes is getting to be a problem in morocco. wonder why...?!&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, our host sister arrives to get us, she's this absolutely gorgeous and outgoing girl, she wasn't dressed in the 'traditional' wear and wasn't wearing a scarf around her head, but instead was dressed trendily, which surprised us after what we had already heard and seen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnna9dmkhI/AAAAAAAAFy0/E93KgnVUxzI/s1600-h/IMGP1501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnna9dmkhI/AAAAAAAAFy0/E93KgnVUxzI/s200/IMGP1501.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208948894392029714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she took us to her house, it was awesome! the traditional Moroccan house--now just the bigger ones--are designed to be 2-3 stories tall, you walk in to this big courtyard in the middle, with all the rooms just bordering. The rooms don't all have doors, are intricately decorated, and the walls are lined with curtains and are typically a room with, I forget what they're called, but they're pseudo couches/beds just lining the walls on all four sides, with pretty fabric and tons of pillows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnncf0M20I/AAAAAAAAFzE/yZ4sf9H0xMg/s1600-h/IMGP1550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnncf0M20I/AAAAAAAAFzE/yZ4sf9H0xMg/s200/IMGP1550.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208948920793488194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where they sleep. They don't have beds. But it's such a good idea cuz it saves space and it's fancy all at the same time! oh, and we ate there. awesomeness. so anyway, That night before dinner, our sister, Tima, took us three out to the market so we could see 'night life' in Morocco. it was crazy. absolutely crazy. and Moroccans are even more outwardly about staring and trying to get your attention, though somehow in a less creepy way than in Spain. hmm. Anyway, so at one point Tima grabs my arm and just says, hold on to me, I don't want you getting lost, and I care about you. um, I had met her like an hour ago. I know this may seem trivial, but its such a part of their culture... they are so overwhelmingly welcoming and caring to their guests. ok so anyway, she ended up taking us to a supermarket where she did some 'shopping'...the three of us concluded that she doesn't typically shop for food...haha. then we went home, had dinner which was this delicious soup with lentils and rice and chicken and veggies, and some potatoes things that were amazing. then we hit the sack. it was a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we woke up early had an AMAZING breakfast of this sort of fried bread/pancake thing, and mint tea. We met up with the group and all headed out to talk to a professor at the university to ask her any questions and to hear more about Morocco, the culture, the people, everything. This talk was different because she gave more realistic answers, and not really sugar-coated like the other students did the day before. She was more objective and real about it. Let me just say that Morocco is a world you could never imagine. I was just so incredibly confused and amazed about it all, in a good way, and while I had a lot of my questions and confusions and doubts answered, there is still so much more to it than I could ever imagine. after that, we headed over to some old roman ruins where an old king is buried, i think, and a super ancient mosque and gardens. there were soooo many stork's nest there it reminded us all of a dr. seuss book or something! then we went to the big mosque and mauseleum where the last king is buried i believe, and it was just after prayer time and the mosque had just closed, so we couldnt approach it or look in, but we got to stand out side where there were all these pillars where there were going to build somthing a long time ago but never did, and got to watch all the men coming out of the mosque. it was really incredible. i just cant get over how religion just rules this country. &lt;br /&gt;Next, we all went back to our host family's houses for lunch. and typically in morocco, families eat couscous--typical Moroccan cuisine--one day a week, and luckily for us that day is Friday, so we all, or at least in my house, got to try homemade delicious couscous. Our host mom was an amazing cook, and basically couscous is traditionally served and eaten out of this giant dish. there is couscous on the bottom, like tons of it, and then on top is basically huge vegetables and meat if the family likes meat. and then we all just sat around the table eating directly out of the dish. After that we met with the group again to go get in small groups and talk and walk with university students.  They walked with us around the city, showed us some sights, and then we all went to a hookah bar together.&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to this Arab bath house, called a hamman. For people who don't live in the city, they come in to a city like Rabat that has them once a week to bathe, and the other people I talked to typically went once every 1-2 wks. Here's how it works: obviously, girls and guys are separated; you get down to your underwear or naked, whichever you prefer; there are 3 rooms, all varying in heat; there's one that's really hot and steamy and has super hot water, and its like hotter than a sauna, there's a middle one, still hot and steamy and sauna-y but with a tad bit less hot water, then the last one, still hot and steamy. haa. So you get this bucket, fill it with water, and sit on the ground in this crowded room and bathe yourself. The ladies there were really nice and gave us their special soap and their scrubbers and showed us how to do it. Basically after being in there for 10 minutes in the heat and steam makes you skin just come off when you scrub it. it's awesome. You get soooooooo clean. I was so obsessed with scrubbing myself I didn't want to stop, the only thing that convinced me to get out of there was the heat. But I scrubbed my body from top to bottom, had my friends scrub my back, and ended up scrubbing my face--I was afraid it'd like peel off my freckles or something (is that stupid?!)--but that was the best decision ever, cuz I left that place with baby soft skin everywhere!&lt;br /&gt;Then we all either went home or to get henna. We went to get henna. The two daughters at the main meeting house did it to the tops of our hands. Then finally we all went back home for our last night with our host families, even though at that point it was 11 pm. We got home to our dinner waiting for us in our room, I had no appetite but decided to eat a little, it was sardines (that she had bought the night before due to a joke jen told at the supermarket...jenny and I were so mad!) and rice and veggies and some other stuff. i tried the rice with sardines but just couldn't do it...I'm telling you this cuz i'm blaming the sardines on what would happen the following day. &lt;br /&gt;So the next day we get up super early to head out to the next city. It was Saturday at 7 am and Tima got up and made us breakfast and ate with us, really sweet. then we all got into the van to head out to a more rural place where we were going to eat lunch with a family up in the mountains, mroe conservative, etc. The drive was super long and windy, like 3 hrs. We were in the very last row of this 16 seat bus. I normally don't get motion sickness like ever unless I'm sitting backwards, but I'm convinced the sardines mixed with the bumps and turns made me go bad. I ate a banana on the way...luckily nothing else. I was fine the whole time until we got to the house in the mountains. I mean, I felt awful and sweaty and not normal, but i just tried to keep it to myself, thinking it'd go away right away. wrong. we're all siting at the house on the ground, they just brought out the food to make delicious sandwiches with, i had no appetite, so i just took a nibble at a carrot slice and then i felt it. i stood up and basically was like, "if i have to throw up where do i do it?" so lindsey brought me over to some trees, i didnt throw up, but i ended up laying down in the house, trying to sleep but not being able to, my stomach pounding with pain, and oh man. so i miss the lunch and the talk the group got to have with the family --apparently extremely different and interesting, oh well-- and then just couldnt stand lying down anymore so i sat up and that's wehn it really hit me. i ran outside, started throwing up in my mouth but covered my mouth with my hand till i got to the trees, so it started spilling out and it ended up comign through my nose! gagg!! anyway, I end up throwing up my banana and the tiny bite of carrot and like a ton of other stuff...it just wouldn't stop coming out it was weird. too much information?!?! Then I felt better, sorta, still not normal, so I just sat outside and waited for them to finish talking to the family. and so then like 15 minutes later we're about to start walking towards the van when I was like holy cow. I ended up vomiting for 5 minutes there. I don't even KNOW what I was throwing up. I just couldnt control it!! so we get back in the van, start making the drive to our last city Chefchaouen, it was like an hr drive, I switched seats with someone up toward the front, and thought all would be fine. wrong. I asked Pablo, the Brazilian guy sitting next to me at the PERFECT time for a plastic bag just in case I needed it, and he handed it over to me right in the perfect moment for when I needed to puke. haha. so they stop the van, i get out, vomit, the driver gets out, starts talking to me in arabic to get on my knees and pours water over my neck, then pours some in my hands apparently telling me to drink it, but i thought he meant to splash my face, so i splash my face and the whole van starts cracking up, and phewwww. i had vomit all over me!! so i sat up very front with the wind blowing in my face till we got there, and all was good! so we get to chechauoen, its a pretty touristy city, it's in the north so a lot of spaniards go there and everyone speaks Spanish, and we were just there for the night to go shopping and eat and sleep in a hostel so I thought I was fine. I mean, I still felt kinda queezy but fine. so I bought a sprite to try and get something in my stomach, I sip on that, me and Jenny and Jen all go shopping, all is fine. we go to this place where they guy gives us a deal on the earrings and ends up being really nice to us three, helping us find each other when we couldn't find eachother etc. haha. so i'm looking at some stuff, and I was like, I don't feel good, I'm sorta sick and he was like, here, sit here. and so I sat. and then i was like, oh no. so he grabs me and runs me over to this public fountain where people can get water (its like a faucet, not your fountain fountain) and i get there at the perfect moment to throw up all the sprite i had drinken. and then some. dear lord it was weird. so I sat there for a bit while the other two shopped, then went and bought a shirt/dress thingy and sucked at bargaining so ended up paying way too much for it haha. oh well.. Needless to say I skipped out on dinner that night and made an attempt at sleeping...to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnnbtmrBZI/AAAAAAAAFy8/5QDZirYEi6I/s1600-h/IMGP1609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnnbtmrBZI/AAAAAAAAFy8/5QDZirYEi6I/s200/IMGP1609.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208948907314972050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next and last morning we got up early to take a hike up to a site to overlook the city at sunrise, it was cool and pretty. I felt a whole lot better then, just weak and sorta hungry, probably dehydrated. so then we got back in the van and headed back to a city called Ceuta, which is on teh african continent but is actually spanish territory, so we ended up walking across the 'border' between morocco and spain. kinda cool. then we took the ferry back across the straight to catch our respective rides home. &lt;br /&gt;Morocco. I loved it. The weekend went by way too fast. I would've loved to stay there a lot longer. i just LOVE cross-cultural exchange. I think it should somehow be mandatory, cuz its sooo important to learn about other cultures to be able to understand them and why they do the things they do. I could say a trillion other things about it, like all the details and quotes from the weekend, but i think I've said enough for now! It was also on this trip that I realized I love traveling, but I love the type of traveling where you get to KNOW the people, culture, etc. I mean, going to Hungary and everywhere else is cool, but when you travel like that you're only seeing the outside. You don't get to know the ins and outs of their life, which I think is way more interesting and important than simply historical buildings and statues. And I suppose especially in a place like Morocco, where it's like no other country you've ever been to...well, out of South America and Europe... If I hadn't gone with this exchange program, there's no way I would've learned what I did and seen what I did. half the places we saw and went were places that tourists would never see. And I got to talk to Moroccans! And relate with them, and live with them! &lt;br /&gt;gosh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yes, that's it. my long weekend in a big nutshell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-521193062463643114?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/521193062463643114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=521193062463643114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/521193062463643114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/521193062463643114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/06/morocco.html' title='MOROCCO!!'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SEnou5ye2hI/AAAAAAAAFzM/yncA8TAHBmU/s72-c/IMGP1458.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-3698243116100663586</id><published>2008-04-27T14:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T15:02:32.105-06:00</updated><title type='text'>woah. last month.</title><content type='html'>Well, as I think about how it's getting down to the wire now with being abroad, I get excited, nostalgic, anxious, nervous, sad, happy...everything...oh, and cynical. Really cynical. I think, well, I know, that I'm actually really ready to be home again, and the closer it gets to reality, the more I find myself critiquing everything here...well, mainly in my house. Today was the worst. ok, first of all, my room is kind of secluded from the rest of the 'house', the tv is always always always on and blasting for my almost deaf senora, and one of my host sister smokes so i shut my door leaving a crack open cuz i hate smoke. well, this means that basically, no one tells me when we're eating. This wouldn't be a problem if a)I wasn't in the house that day, b)I didn't eat, c)I didn't care, or d)there was a set meal time. BUT, there is no set meal time (ok, that makes sense, but still) and I do care, most of the time I'm starving by meal time due to lack of a decent breakfast or any other nutrients to last me the 7 hrs between my meals...ok ok i know i can buy food. and i do. BUT on sundays when the world shuts down, you have a problem. I've gotten in the habit of going out to the room and just waiting, but usually that's a lost cause because who knows WHAT my senora does in the kitchen... (tonight, she went in to start cooking dinner at 8:30, and it started smelling good by 9 so i was like, oh good, food soon. yah right. we were served at 10. want to know what it was? SPAGHETTI. um, it takes 10 minutes to boil water and make that. whhhat?) Anyway, so today I was in my room reading (soooo much reading...more later) and my senora comes in and was like, "you don't want lunch?" and i was just ugh. so i said, Well know one tells me, I can't hear cuz your tv, blah blah...i mean, i said it respectfully, but i think she maybe picked up on it? bad move on my part? oh well. anyway, I went out to the table and they were halfway done with lunch. thanks.   SEE THIS? this is me being cynical. about every single detail. and it's not that bad. like, not being told about lunch and having to wait an hr and a half for spaghetti isn't that bad, i think it's just time. maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And despite all my complaining up there, believe it or not but I AM having a good time and enjoying myself! I know I'm going to miss this city; just walking around the streets, doing some major people-watching and observing, seeing the motos take control of the road and not following any traffic signals or rules, taking detours due to all the 'edificios en obras,' or buildings under construction along the streets, going out for free tapas!, pretending i'm spanish (mostly unsuccessfully...), seeing the police just stopped along the side of the road in a plaza on their motos chattin' and watching construction along with the rest of the world (i guess you could compare that to the police-parked-along-the-side-of-the-road-eating-donuts theory in the States), sitting in plazas and the park, seeing some crazy european fashion, etc. It's been a good semester. Yah, it took me a bit more time to get acclimated here than in Chile, but it all turned out to be okay. I mean, my hygiene has significantly worsened (at least the bathing part), my work ethic has turned to mierda, and I'm super out of shape, but hey, I'm still alive and kickin'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is sunday. last time I showered was wednesday night. and I've run several times during that time. yummmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally going to Morocco on Thursday and mannn am I stoked. Don't worry, I'll fill y'all in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-3698243116100663586?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3698243116100663586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=3698243116100663586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/3698243116100663586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/3698243116100663586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/04/woah-last-month.html' title='woah. last month.'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-7697885494965304281</id><published>2008-04-18T03:30:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:20:42.377-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Prague</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhu-ZasLDI/AAAAAAAAFok/6oIXLbgxHXA/s1600-h/IMGP1408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhu-ZasLDI/AAAAAAAAFok/6oIXLbgxHXA/s320/IMGP1408.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190520588798274610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved Prague!!! It's a really beautiful and well-kept city of orange roofs and old monuments and bridges and really nice people...and good food.  Well ok not going to lie, we didn't really branch out too much with the food there because it's really touristy and therefore the prices are pretty high for poor college students, but we still had some good sausage, good Pilsner beer (famous Czech beer), and bagels and cream cheese. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhtDZasLBI/AAAAAAAAFoU/Q8c9abR3nUc/s1600-h/IMGP1302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhtDZasLBI/AAAAAAAAFoU/Q8c9abR3nUc/s320/IMGP1302.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190518475674364946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the old castle grounds, which is basically a small town inside the city, with a cathedral, a museum, lots of other buildings that i don't even know what purpose they serve, restaurants, etc. We saw the famous changing of the guards while fighting to see over the smelly girl in front of us who decided to stand up in front of everyone behind her...but still cool. We also went to the famous Charles Bridge I dont know how many times. It's basically just a bridge for pedestrians filled with people selling jewelry, art of all sorts, people playing music, and tons of places to get your caricature done. haha, on our last time there, we were about to walk off the bridge when we saw this guy, probably about my age or a little older, in a penguin costume, playing a recorder TERRIBLY,  just having the time of his life, trying to seduce all the people that walked by to give him some money. Meanwhile, a big group of his friends were just standing there cracking up the whole time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhw0ZasLEI/AAAAAAAAFos/FfNNiX-Y22I/s1600-h/IMGP1420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhw0ZasLEI/AAAAAAAAFos/FfNNiX-Y22I/s200/IMGP1420.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190522616022838338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penguin guy actually made out pretty well...got some good tips. Next he pulled out a small little tambourine, but he wasnt nearly as successful. Afterwards, he decided to go and get a caricature with his earnings, while his friends handed out cans of Pilsner to the bystanders. holy cow it was hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was basically lots of walking around, seeing things and just chillin'. good weekend. oh also, someone in our hostel told us that he had heard that Budapest is a 'worse' version of Vienna, and Vienna is a 'worse' version of Prague. And well, I've only been to two of them, but yes, Prague definitely beats Budapest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Granada has this week-long Feria de libros (book market?) just out in one of the big plazas, where there are loads and loads of book stands all lined up full of books and some authors there to sign books, so I'm off to go check it out! hasta luego&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-7697885494965304281?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7697885494965304281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=7697885494965304281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/7697885494965304281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/7697885494965304281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/04/prague.html' title='Prague'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/SAhu-ZasLDI/AAAAAAAAFok/6oIXLbgxHXA/s72-c/IMGP1408.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-4192637720355590578</id><published>2008-04-09T10:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T10:14:42.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>observations...</title><content type='html'>Ok, here’s the deal. Ever since the beginning of my stay in espana, my roommate Lara and I have been noticing little by little, and picking up on the lifestyle, attitudes, behavior of the ‘youth’ here. We’ve talked about it A LOT (behind their backs, of course), and obviously compared it to our lives back home, not with the intention of claiming one to be superior to the other, just simply comparing and contrasting and trying with all our might to understand it all. And well, I haven’t written anything about it yet because I didn’t want it to seem like I was complaining or anything—because I think that’s how I come across in the blog a lot, and I didn’t want to perpetuate that idea—but now, I’ve waited long enough and I just have to get it out of my system. AND I also think something like this is important to realize and remember later on, especially because it constitutes a pretty big portion of my life here. AND, a professor of Lara has confirmed our thoughts/ideas of the generalized – which is important to keep in mind – Spanish youth with studies, which puts me a little bit more at ease as I just let it all out.&lt;br /&gt;Ok first of all, my senora’s two daughters are 19 and 21 years old. They don’t go to school. Each took courses, the 19 year old one just started last week working at a daycare in the mornings, and the 21 yr old one got her first job in like march or something, worked 1 week and decided she didn’t like her boss so she quit the following week, and has remained jobless ever since.  I have no idea what she does. &lt;br /&gt;As far as what I’ve seen/heard/experienced in my house, there is a significant lack of respect for the older generation(s), and according to a professor, this has been a characteristic of this generation, and it continues to grow in impact (? don’t know how to word it…) with the younger generations—meaning, it’s just expanding and getting worse.  True, true, you could say, well, everyone yells at and fights with and disobeys their mom, BUT they just pay no respect whatsoever to the person who makes their every meal, who wakes them up for work, who does their laundry, who makes their bed, who cleans their room, etc. instead, it’s: “MAMA, TRAE EL AGUA. NO QUIERO LEVANTARME,” or simply ignoring her.  It wouldn’t call our attention so much if the people we saw doing this and acting in this way were like 10 yrs old maybe, but no, this is the normal behavior of a 21-year old.  Whhhhhhat? So of course, this leads me to compare it to Chile, and therefore, the Hispanic culture, and therefore maturity: living at home till you get married, not working because “there is no reason to, since you have your parents to support you,” having no responsibility, etc.  Basically, the maturity level is just at a completely different level. Which is fine. It’s just different, and clearly requires an adjustment period. I’ve been with it now going on 8 months, and I’m still baffled by what I hear and see.  However, it’s also kinda the ‘guilt’ of the older generation, too; they just maintain the standards, without changing their comportment, even if they have a problem with the ‘youth system.’  I don’t get it.&lt;br /&gt;Lara and I have noticed that in our house, it just seems like a constant attack or demand of their mom, and even though she clearly gets mad and frustrated and seems to feel powerless, she still does everything the same, gives no punishment, and lets them keep living their life how they want, without daring being interrupted by their mother, who single-handedly raised them herself.  Wow, long sentence.  Anyway, we’ve wanted to ask our senora about their behavior, well, in a very roundabout way, especially when she’s mad, so she can identify with what we’re referring to, but we’ve wimped out. It’s tough, because I think and believe it would most likely come across to her as an ‘attack’ on her daughters, or how she raised them, seeing as how she says she’s American (she lived there for a couple of years…doesn’t speak a lick of English…) and doesn’t agree with a lot (the majority) of things that go on in the States, how the way of life doesn’t fit her, etc. &lt;br /&gt;So anyway, it’s really tough sometimes, I think mainly because a lot of it occurs at meal time, when we’re seated at the table and can first-handedly see and hear what’s going on.  Several times we have just been so awestruck at the table that we have nothing to say, NOTHING, and end up sitting there, speechless, staring at each other, wanting so badly to speak up and tell them to act their age, but just leaving the table in silence instead.&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, I think our household has a really different environment because a)there is no father figure, b)these girls have had at least one girl—most likely 2 girls—living  in their house EVERY semester for the past 11 years. Yes, 11 years.  So I can only imagine that this would have something to do with their behavior, though I’d hardly say that’s a valid reason to act the way they do, and c) I haven’t come up with a ‘c’ yet. haha  Ideas?!&lt;br /&gt;Oh one more thing regarding Spanish youth. They are surprisingly (generally-speaking, of course) apathetic. In many regards. But on the other hand, lara and I realized that at home we are pretty much just surrounded by people at school who are go-getters, have goals, want to change the world, ya know, that type of people. but here, well, we’re not surrounded by that type of Spanish people, so it’s just a different atmosphere, and it really catches us off-guard.  They really give the impression that they have no power whatsoever (mainly girls) to change anything, help anything, etc.  for example, girls and sports: it’s still at a point here in spain where girls don’t really have sports teams, don’t play sports, etc., because that’s just not ‘right.’  Well, I’ve talked to several girls about this who would like to play sports, but they say that since there are no established teams or programs for them they have no opportunity to do anything. And I was like, wellllllll why don’t you do something about that???? Like, get with your firneds who want to do that with you and make something of it? And basically they’re just like, noooo, nothing would happen, we can’t change that, blah blah blah.   GAG.  It makes me think of that John Mayer song, “Waiting on the world to change.” Jajaj, which is funny because I really love that song, but I guess the message of it isn’t so great…anyway, it just ASTOUNDS ME. &lt;br /&gt;Ok that’s it for now. Probably doesn’t seem like much, oh but it is.  It actually makes it really hard for me to relate with them on a lot of levels. Well, aside from the fact that they don’t really talk to me, it just makes me really mad when they yell incessantly at her. And they do it in front of their friends and boyfriends, and they just act as if it’s completely normal. I’m like, um, no. at least act fake in front of your friends so they don’t have to see how bad you get along with your mom. Hahah  But no. and the friends/bf’s just seem normal with it, even sometimes join the conversation.  ???????    Man, if I went to a friend’s house and he/she started screaming at his/her mom or dad, I’d quietly leave the room, or AT LEAST stare at the ground and pretend to be invisible…right? Wowww.&lt;br /&gt;OK now I’m really done for now.&lt;br /&gt;Hugs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-4192637720355590578?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4192637720355590578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=4192637720355590578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4192637720355590578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4192637720355590578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/04/observations.html' title='observations...'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-2861054383548072249</id><published>2008-04-07T10:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:20:42.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>here's a pic.</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/R_pS1wBht-I/AAAAAAAAFMs/GRf-pJktnFI/s1600-h/IMGP1274.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/R_pS1wBht-I/AAAAAAAAFMs/GRf-pJktnFI/s160/IMGP1274.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;experimentin'&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-2861054383548072249?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2861054383548072249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=2861054383548072249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2861054383548072249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2861054383548072249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/04/heres-pic.html' title='here&apos;s a pic.'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oYUY4G9qbvE/R_pS1wBht-I/AAAAAAAAFMs/GRf-pJktnFI/s72-c/IMGP1274.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-2359330673387449360</id><published>2008-04-07T04:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T04:59:25.429-06:00</updated><title type='text'>note to self:</title><content type='html'>...don´t sit in the front row of a flamenco performance unless you would like to be pulled up on stage to dance in front of everyone. yes, this happened. At least I got myself looking presentable beforehand and had on a nice skirt, so I could pull it up to the side just like the lovely dancer who got me up on stage pulled her dress up. Well, that was fun. I went to a flamenco performance at my school; flamenco, or the style of flamenco that they were dancing, wasn´t really what I expected it´d be: they had moves of slapping their legs and arms and clapping their hands and weird stomping...but it was cool...&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend I went with my group to the Alpujarras--mountains in the Sierra Nevada. On the way there, which is essentially driving around switchbacks on the side of the mountains, I was convinced a big 18-wheeler coming around the bend would end it for us, and though we did come close a couple of times--one time involving everyone waking up from the sudden squeal of truck horns and coming inches away from hitting us, we survived. When we got there, we went for a short hike through a few towns--all super cute with white houses, and all close together--and then the second day we had a 3 hr hike through the mountains with a guide. It felt so good to be out in nature again! And even if my butt hurts really bad right now after climbing up those hills and then nearly falling down them, I´m so glad we got to do that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granada is absolutely full of tourists now. My favorite one so far has been the guy that is standing next to a statue in a plaza with crossed arms and a huge smile on his face, just watching everyone. But the best part was his clothes: overalls, a sleeveless shirt, a baseball cap, and chacos. wow. Way to represent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else going on lately. Been walking around on my own lately. I´ve realized Spaniards, or anyone for that matter, talks to me more when I´m alone and not with a group of other americans. The other day I went in search of a plaza, though I went in the completely wrong way, but ended up walking up super steep hills and found myself on top of the city overlooking it all. I´d forgotten it´s such a pretty city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to Prague on Thursday for a long weekend with a couple of friends. Yay Czech people and beer and sausage!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-2359330673387449360?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2359330673387449360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=2359330673387449360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2359330673387449360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2359330673387449360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/04/note-to-self.html' title='note to self:'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-8177183258573731692</id><published>2008-03-24T10:09:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T10:18:35.604-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Budapest/Semana Santa</title><content type='html'>Well, it’s pronounced “BudapesHt” but whatever.  Anyway, I went to Budapest with 2 friends for 5 days, and it was great! Budapest is one of those cities that are authentically OLD, not one of those cities whose city council decides to re-vamp all the buildings to be new but look old and vintage, but it’s really old, and it shows. It seemed like all of the buildings are super old, have Byzantine-style architecture and black or grey ashy-colored outsides. There are obviously also lots of old monuments and religious buildings—St. Stephen’s Cathedral: huge and gorgeous; the largest synagogue in Europe and 2nd largest in the world…don’t know the name, oops; and other religious stuff….anyway, I’ll stop rambling and maybe organize my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, Budapest was originally 2 different cities separated by the Danube river, Buda and Pest. At some point in history…? they united and now it’s a huge city, and major tourist attraction for it’s beauty and history; Buda is the more suburban part of the city, while Pest, where we stayed, is more metropolitan and has all the shopping, exhibits, monuments, restaurants, etc.&lt;br /&gt;So to begin, I’d say the whole language barrier was by far the hardest thing to get a hold of, or rather to accept. I remember when we first arrived and made it to the metro station to get to our hostel, we were standing in the middle of it all, literally turning in circles because we had absolutely no idea where to go, how to get to wherever we were going, nor obviously how to read all the signs. True, lots of people speak English, or at least a little bit, but it was all hustle and bustle so we just felt lost and helpless.  Luckily we made it on a metro after figuring out the stupid ticket system, and a nice guy heard us speaking English on the metro trying to figure out where to get off, and he spoke fluent English and was really helpful, getting off with us, walking us to our hostel, and marking on my map cool things to see and do. Great first impression! But anyway, that feeling of not being able to communicate or understand what people are saying to you, or how to ask a question, or anything, is a really terrible and hopeless feeling. It was one that I know we all felt and experienced many more times throughout our time there—like me trying to order my friend a pizza on the phone, or my friend being yelled at in Hungarian in a museum, we think for carrying her backpack but we’re not sure, or a lady in another place telling us to do something that we clearly didn’t understand, etc.—it’s just so overwhelming. I honestly cannot remember the last time I felt that helpless and useless. They talk to you, and you really have nothing to say in return, other than give a blank stare and raise your eyebrows.  Like when I was trying to order the pizza, we were in the hostel and there were several people sitting around listening, digging through guidebooks for expressions I could use, laughing hysterically, etc., and it was all funny and all, since I called twice hoping for an English speaker (we’d stopped there before and the guy knew English and Spanish, so we just figured he’d answer….HAH), but I had to hang up after the first time because my saying “pizza” “angolul?” for ‘english?’ was getting me nowhere, and then the second time I just remember thinking, this is ridiculous. It’s funny and I’m cracking up, but it was maybe the most stressful/overwhelming 30 seconds of my life…if had to live like this, I honestly don’t know how I’d survive. I mean, of course I’d try to learn the language, but mannnnnnnnnn.  Just imagine immigrating to another country in search of a better life or something but not knowing the language: what the hell do you do? I guess in hindsight it’d be stupid to move to a country where you don’t speak the language, but it happens, so the problem exists…ahh.  In the end the pizza fiasco failed, and my friend went hungry. Imagine that, hungry in Hungary…HAHHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the language barrier, we did a lot of cool things. Budapest, or maybe all of Hungary, is known for their natural thermal waters (is that English?—aguas termales—)so we went to one of those, and left smelling of sulfur, but feeling refreshed and relaxed. We went to the huge synagogue that I mentioned before—apparently designed by a Catholic, so the architecture inside is pretty distinct for a synagogue, but still pretty—we went to a couple museums on the history of Hungary and also on the Soviet/Communist occupation and Hungary’s role in WW2, went to the citadel, saw some great views of the huge city, walked a ton, ate even more, and made a lot of new friends at our hostel. We stayed at this hostel called Bubble Budapest, so if you ever go, stay there! There were people from England, Australia, New Zealand, Spain, Dominican Republic, Argentina, Canada, US, etc.  We all went out together a lot, spent maybe too much time together, but had a great time!  &lt;br /&gt;Oh, and the weather in Budapest might be even weirder than Texas. On our last full day there, we were out and about seeing the last things we could, and it was sort of cloudy, sort of blue skies, normal. Well, all of a sudden it starts to SNOW. Not rain, but snow, legit snow. So that lasts for just a bit, like 5ish minutes and then it starts raining, and then like 20 minutes later, we have clear blue skies and temperatures like 10 degrees warmer.  Yah, weird. So then like an hour or two later, we’re walking across this huge bridge and what do ya know? It starts snowing AGAIN. Whattttt? Anyway, I just thought it was crazzzy.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and then on a completely unrelated note, on our flight back we stopped in Munich, and omg I saw the most german looking guy ever. Well actually, several of them; it was insane!!! I just remember looking at him and immediately thinking, that guy is GERMAN, sooooo german!! And the german people were really nice, so I think I’d like to go back there sometime, spend some quality time in the country eating sausages and beer and feeling like I can actually fit in with the blond-haired people. but I wonder…will I be able to order any food?!?!? I mean, I don’t speak german.  Speaken-zie deutsch? NOPE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say the least, traveling is nice and rewarding and eye-opening, but it’s always nice to go back ‘home’ and speak the language and be able to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I came back from Budapest, I spent the rest of my time here in Granada, experiencing the true Andalucian Semana Santa. Basically there are tons of processions with old and young people alike, lots of music, standing in the cold, carrying the heavy statues and 'palios' or those big things that have the Virgen Mary, etc. sitting on top and are intricately decorated, etc. Here, Easter is all about the few days before, especially the processions and everything else that goes on on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, and then on Sunday. I went to a couple processions Thursday night, and one of them, 'la procesion de silencio' is apparently one of the most famous and special. It starts processing at midnight, and as it reaches different parts of the city, all of the lights are shut off in that part, and everyone is supposed to be silent, obviously, and the people in the procession are all wearing black and carrying candles, and then there's the big Jesus on the cross. It was nice, honestly not all that it was hyped up to be, but maybe because the idiot beside me decided that the SILENT part of the procession was the perfect time to start eating his stupid sunflower seeds and drinking from his coke wrapped in a plastic bag and talking to his girlfriend. moron.  &lt;br /&gt;But it was all nice; really different. No easter egg hunt this year, just the normal crackers and tea and unripe pear for breakfast.   :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-8177183258573731692?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8177183258573731692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=8177183258573731692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/8177183258573731692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/8177183258573731692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/03/budapestsemana-santa.html' title='Budapest/Semana Santa'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-4388252029853116207</id><published>2008-03-24T10:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T10:09:24.819-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the little old lady</title><content type='html'>So since the beginning of the semester I’ve had a lot of free time between and after classes, and I was just going crazy and didn’t know what to do with it all. Well, it’s gotten better, I have a pretty normal routine now, but I was like, I might as well do something worth doing at least during a portion of my time. Sooo I decided to try and volunteer somewhere, so basically I kill time with other people, AND I speak Spanish while doing it. Well get this. I first went to Red Cross and talked to the lady, and she was like, oh well, you’re only here till May so we don’t want you to start anything now. And I was like, fine, if you don’t want me to even play with kids that’s fine with me, someone else will have to want me. So I found this place online called Fundacion Albihar and the lady there was sooo nice and overwhelmingly welcoming to me, and was so glad that I had found the place online.  The fundacion does several things, but the one that fit my timing and schedule the best was to be paired up with an old lady and just talk with her, listen, take a stroll, whatever. I mean, it’s not much (at all), but ok let’s face it, old ladies are adorable, especially when they speak Spanish and you have absolutely no idea what they’re saying but still they somehow adore you and think you're the most amazing person for listening, and it’s always interesting to meet new people and here their life stories, and mannnnnnn I’m telling you, little old ladies LOVE talking about their life and their families. So anyway, yesterday was my first day to go and meet her, her name is Socorro, she’s in her 80’s, has trouble walking, but is a mouthful, and super friendly. I went with the director lady so she could introduce us, etc. and they just ended up talking the whole time, but I’m going to start seeing her after Semana Santa, which is this upcoming week, and basically all I do is go once a week, or whatever we agree on, and just take her on a stroll, sit and talk and listen and just provide good company for her for a couple of hours. Not bad.&lt;br /&gt;Oh and so she lives in this apartment building—like everyone here—but there was some serious bad planning, or a major lack of planning, put into the building because there is no elevator! Come on, people. If apartment buildings are the only form of living conditions here in the city, you just HAVE to expect that either, a)old people will live there and will need an elevator at some point, or b)that people will, like most Spaniards, make this the one home they’ll have, and thus they’ll GET old, and will eventually need an elevator if they ever want to breathe in the fresh air and not waste away on their couch day after day. Ah. I got really mad because that was one thing they were talking about for Socorro. Luckily she’s just on the first floor, and for the most part she can go down and come up on her own, but it’s really just not safe for her or anyone else in a similar situation. Urgh.  &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I’m excited to listen to all her stories, and I just know I’ll get an earful of them, but it should be good for the both of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-4388252029853116207?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4388252029853116207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=4388252029853116207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4388252029853116207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4388252029853116207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/03/little-old-lady.html' title='the little old lady'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-1109561808126478513</id><published>2008-03-11T09:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T09:54:50.472-06:00</updated><title type='text'>un buen fin   (de semana)</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was wonderful, for various reasons. First of all, the weather was good...except at night HOLY COW i think it gets colder now than it did at the beginning of the semester...and I just don't function in cold weather...but during the day it's getting warmer and warmer so that's good. Also, my friends Brennan and Lori came to Granada from Barcelona, which them prompted me to finally call my friend Anna who studies here in Granada, and we all went out for tapas and hung out. Apparently everything is suuuper expensive in Barcelona, and their living situation isn't really the same as mine, the city's too big for their taste, etc., so basically I got some perspective from them and then like overnight I developed a deeper sense of appreciation for Granada. No joke. I mean, I have it good here: FREE TAPAS!, good weather, i can walk pretty much anywhere in the city without having to take the bus, we don't even have a metro, it's not to expensive, i have a host family who gives me food, the great Andalucian/Granadino accent that I have grown to love and pseudo compare the chilean...doesnt always work but it's worth a try...&lt;br /&gt;So yah, thank you, Brennan and Lori, for making me appreciate what i have...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alsooo, my host sister, Maria, and her friends invited Lara and I to go with them to the beach on Saturday, and we had a great day in Malaga. Two americanas, and 9 crazy espanoles taking forever to get it together in the morning to go, then taking a while to finally hit the road and get going, then picking up people, and finally making it there and wandering the city (Nerja--beautiful!) in search of a supermarket so we could buy food, then FINALLY making it back towards the beach and setting up camp. crazy day.  The drive up there (down there?) was really pretty, especially once we were driving along the coast...all the cities are full of gorgeous white houses and apartments lining the coast--which is an amazing bright blue color--with palm trees, clear blue skies, and ah! so pretty! The beach we went to was pretty small, but really nice because we got our own little alcove to claim as our own, and then we just chilled there for the rest of the day...so relaxing!!....unlesssss the spaniards decide to declare you as the one to pick on...every LITTLE thing i did at least one of them was like, "que haces, cati???" (what are you doing???) so of course i had to justify everything i did...and! everything was my fault! they said that "it's always been that way" but i was like, since when? so of course, whenever anything happened...who's to blame? me! maybe because i'm blonde? maybe because i'm an easy target? i have no idea...but anyway! a great weekend!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here in just a few days, on friday, i'm going to Budapest!!! Going with my friend Ryann (a guy) and my friend Austen (a girl...i know, confusing...) and it should be fun. even though the forecast says it's supposed to be in teh 40-50s and raining the whole time...ehh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-1109561808126478513?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1109561808126478513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=1109561808126478513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1109561808126478513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1109561808126478513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/03/un-buen-fin-de-semana.html' title='un buen fin   (de semana)'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-1467116231513220053</id><published>2008-03-03T09:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T09:35:38.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>slight change of plans...</title><content type='html'>So I was going to go to Morocco this past weekend, but a few...digestive problems(?) shall we say, got in the way and I ended up staying home and chillin' with the senora instead. I'll be going to Morocco at the very beginning of May now, instead, and with a group of complete strangers. It should be fun. This weekend I went out and tried to see more of the city on my own, and really wanted to go see the Plaza de Toros...so I get out my map, make my way over there (it's really pretty close...now i know) and what do you know? it's closed. So the closest I got was seeing the outside, but then i was walking around it (it's just a huge arena basically, lots of football stadium seating), and I found an open door, so of course I went in and got to peak in at the arena...it's huge! I can't wait to be able to actually go there and see some bulls running around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news...oh, trivia of the day. So in Chile, it was normal for there to be American tv shows and movies on all the time, with the normal english spoken and subtitles. There were also programs and movies that were dubbed into Spanish but I'd say that was far less common. On the other hand, here in Spain you basically never hear english on the tv or at movie theaters (unless it's a musical like Sweeney Todd and they sing in English and then speak in spanish...it's really quite funny...) So I was wondering why, if there was a reason, that Spain has such a strong 'dubbed culture' as my professor described it today. Wellll, turns out that during Franco's regime, he was so patriotic, so nationalistic, against other languages, etc. that he implemented a law calling for pure dubbed music, tv, movies, etc. Apparently he didn't want Spaniards getting the real message of the movie, etc. in case it dealt with something that might interfere with his power and control over Spain. Obviously today such a law doesn't exist, but Spaniards just became so accustomed during his multi-decade stage of power that it's stayed...hmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a bit of cynicism...&lt;br /&gt;Last week, Spain had it's first presidential debate in 15 years (the second, and last one for this year is today; elections in a week) and so obviously--or perhaps not so obviously--I, and Lara, wanted to watch it. However, we lucked out to have a senora and her two daughters who are somehow so adamant about how much Zapatero sucks and has screwed this country, and they want the other guy to win, yet they don't know anything other than that Rajoy-the 'other guy'- will fix it. And so when Lara and I asked about the debate and whether or not they were going to watch it, they responded that they already know who they're going to vote for and that politics are stupid. And well, there's only one tv in the house, so lara and i just dismissed ourselves to our rooms. The Simpsons are obviously much more important. And tonight the same thing is going down...they'll bash the govt. and then turn on a word-game show, for the 9823472908 time in a row.  Last week one of my professors asked us who all hadn't watched the debate, and i had to explain that my senora 'didn't want to,' which i think surprised him, and he responded by saying, "next week, make your close-minded woman listen to something of importance!" that made me happy. hahha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weather's warming up; flowers are slowly blooming, and after Semana Santa I can finally wear sandals and be socially-acceptable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-1467116231513220053?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1467116231513220053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=1467116231513220053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1467116231513220053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1467116231513220053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/03/slight-change-of-plans.html' title='slight change of plans...'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-2310520262377500325</id><published>2008-02-13T11:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T11:45:21.205-06:00</updated><title type='text'>¡elecciones!</title><content type='html'>So with the primaries going on in the States, and with Spain´s elections coming up here in March, politics is definitely the topic of conversation lately. In Spain the two main political parties are the PSOE (Partido Socialista Obrero Español), which is ´a la izquierda,´ o sea, more liberal, and the PP (Partido Popular), which is more conservative. The president right now is Zapatero, who is part of the PSOE, and well...obviously there are varying opinions on him, but from what I understand (or at least in my host family), he is not very liked or appreciated by many Spaniards. The candidate for the PP is Rajoy, who is an older man, and also is sort of stand-outish for some of his ideas and proposals.  I´ve been trying to read up as much as possible in the newspapers and in the news, and while there are obviously many many many plans and ideas and proposals for both parties, the three main topics of discussion are: immigration, (juvenile) delinquents, and the economy as a whole. Spain has always been a port of entry into the rest of Europe for people from Africa, which makes up a large portion of the Spanish population, but it´s gotten to the point where it´s almost out-of-hand, there are just so many immigrants, and well, not enough work, etc. Delinquency, I had no idea it was as big a problem as they make out, but apparently so...andddd the economy, the big whopper. Spain´s going through what we in the States would usually refer to as a recession, but apparently most Spaniards don´t know that word and have no idea what it means, so they simply say that they´re going through an "economic crisis," which basically sums everything up...other noteworthy factors in the elections are things like the drought that Spain is in and has been in for some time...or rather, lack of water; housing; older people and their ´pensiones´, etc. Anyway, it´s been interesting to try and follow the campaigns, and now that I´m finally starting to actually learn about the political systems both in Spain and all of Europe in two of my classes, I´m able to actually understand it all! It´s also interesting to listen to people´s opinions here on the elections back in the States; today in my history class we were going over politics briefly, and my professor said, which clears up a lot of what I´ve heard regarding US politics from Spaniards, that Spaniards just simply cannot and do not understand how two candidates from the same political party can be fighting against each other in the elections...good point, good point. Maybe to knock out the worse of the two...  So anyway, interesting going from one political system with a female pres back in Chile, to Spain with elections coming up, all the while hearing about elections/campaigns back stateside...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-2310520262377500325?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2310520262377500325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=2310520262377500325' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2310520262377500325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2310520262377500325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/02/elecciones.html' title='¡elecciones!'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-3937385702781066684</id><published>2008-02-12T08:49:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T09:10:08.269-06:00</updated><title type='text'>lately...</title><content type='html'>As of late, one of my favorite things to do is to go to the park near my house and sit and read, or people-watch, or occasionally chat with the people around me. Luckily it's starting to warm up, so it's usually around 60-70 degrees and sunny during the afternoon for a few hours, which means everyone tries to take advantage of the sun. It's also really good to just get out of the house and see new things/people/relax/etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see...what else do I do? The really big thing to do here is to go out for tapas, which are typically served from 8pm - midnight-ish. And LUCKILY, Granada is, I believe, the ONLY place in all of Spain that serves free (and delicious) tapas whenever you order a drink at a tapas bar or restaurant. It comes in handy when you only have a couple of dollars and you order a beer or something for a euro y tanto and end up eating dinner for 'free'!  So anyway, that's pretty much what everyone does here...I don't do it a whole lot because I have a completely free meal prepared for me everynight, but every once in a while it's a nice change...This past weekend I got together with a group of friends and we played frisbee together, and then soccer, and then the group ended up picking up a couple of spanish guys who wanted to join in. It was tons of fun, reminded me of playing frisbee on the beach in Chile, and felt so good to play a sport again! plus I met alot of new people I hadn't known before and some of whom ended up going to the same university as my friend (shout out to c.boice) at Clemson...woot woot. Anyway, later that night, what originated from me and my roommate's idea-Lara- to get out of the house and not make our deathly-ill host senora cook that night, turned into a pretty good group of us from frisbee going out for tapas, and then to another place, and then one of the guys we were with who studied here last semester tambien, took us to a hookah bar that his friend owns...i was so exhausted by the end of the night, but the hookah-bar guy kept making fun of me for being tired so early at like 4 am...man, i'm so not spanish yet.  OH. AND! The guy who own's the store right next to the hookah bar came in and 'talked' to us (except he was so drunk and hookah-bar guy says he's crazy to begin with) and in the middle of the 'conversation' he looks at me randomly, and says roughly the following:&lt;br /&gt;"and this one, this one right here, she's the type to get pregnant" and i was like "WHATTTTTTTT?" everyone turns silent and i'm like, "oh, what makes you say that? i'm  the most UNLIKELY to get pregnant here!" and he just kept mumbling to himself and the hookah guy just was laughing and laughing....mannnnnnnnnnnn that was weird!!! so yah. but no worries, parents, no worries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway. that's my life. still working on signing up for my class at the university, going to classes, trying to to stick out like an americana. unsuccessfully!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and I've started here a little list of what it means to be Spanish, or little things that stick out in the Spanish society that I've picked up on. yah, some are really lame or shallow or stupid, but whatev:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-black and brown go together perfectly and is totally stylish&lt;br /&gt;-if you wear any type of nylons, stockings, or leggings you'll fit in&lt;br /&gt;-boots go with any outfit. any outfit.&lt;br /&gt;-scarves complete an outfit.&lt;br /&gt;-olive oil goes with anything. and and is served with everythings.&lt;br /&gt;-salads are salty.&lt;br /&gt;-tv is awesome. the simpsons are the best.&lt;br /&gt;-two words: skinny jeans.&lt;br /&gt;-exercise? what's that? i walk everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;-say 'vale' to everything.&lt;br /&gt;-lip-reading is hard, just like in Chile...they mumble and don't move their mouths.&lt;br /&gt;-no pasa nada.&lt;br /&gt;-----to be continued......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-3937385702781066684?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3937385702781066684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=3937385702781066684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/3937385702781066684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/3937385702781066684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/02/lately.html' title='lately...'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-6581989315354602152</id><published>2008-02-12T08:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T08:48:38.037-06:00</updated><title type='text'>textbooks come to life!</title><content type='html'>Ok, I'm not familiar with blog etiquette, (as in, if you're only supposed to do short/concise entries, or if it even matters...?) or if it even exists, but I've written kind of a longggg blog on my trip from last week to Madrid, Toledo, Segovia and Portugal, so I'm just going to post it all...enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FEBRUARY 7, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEXTBOOKS COME TO LIFE&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, it’s been a week. This is going to be a long post, so I’ll separate it into the four cities I went to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toledo:&lt;br /&gt;I started off the week with my program in Toledo, which is this old, small city, mounted up on this mountain sort of thing, surrounded by a river…it’s really old, charming, and made up of a labyrinth of winding and extremely narrow streets, surrounded by tall buildings on either side, but really cute, full of nice people and abundant in old architecture and history. Toledo used to be the capitol of the country, wayyyy back, and it is famous for being the first city where the three prominent religions—Catholicism, Judaism, and Islam—coexisted peacefully in the past. After just a stroll through the streets you will find an abundance of sword and knife shops, and sweet shops filled with Toledo’s famous marzipan, or mazapan..it’s really good! We were only there for a day and a night, but we got to see the old cathedral of the town, the famous painting by El Greco—El entierro del Conde de Orgaz, some old, Baroque architecture, a monastery where Garcilaso de la Vega is buried, and an old mosque that was first a church but then converted to a mosque, then to a church, and is famous for its not being discovered by authorities back when Jews were being kicked out and Judaism being outlawed.&lt;br /&gt;Madrid:&lt;br /&gt;Next, we headed off to Madrid for a couple of nights, where we got to stay in this really nice hotel in the middle of the upscale part of town, and right in the middle of everything! We were there during the beginning of Carnaval, which is  a really popular holiday/festival here in Spain, when people dress up during the days and party all night long, and there were parades and everything while we were there…it’s like Mardi Gras, but bigger and better.  So anyway, we walked around a lot, got to see Palacio Real, which is the official residence of the king and queen of Spain, even though they don’t actually live there except for special occasions, and oh my gosh, I cannot put into words how beautiful the palace was and how much I fell in love with it.  Every room we went into has sooo much detail, so much worth and beauty...every room is just filled with incredible furniture, and you get so caught up in the walls and furniture and decoration that you almost forget to look up, but you can’t forget! The ceilings are sometimes the most meticulously-decorated part of the room!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ok I wrote some stuff down about my favorite rooms while we were there so I wouldn’t forget…my favorite room is called Sala Gasparini. It was used by the kings as the dressing room way back in good ‘ol Ferdinand and Carlos III and IV’s time, but now it’s used as a coffee room for after big events. Anyway, as we weren’t allowed to take pictures at all, you just have to use your wildest imagination to piece this together (if you want…I’m just writing it so I don’t forget it…):&lt;br /&gt;All of the ceiling and walls are covered in stucco designs and patterns, and there is an oriental flare to the room, with stucco vines and flowers and trees and people from the orient all over in beautiful colors. The floor is made of marble, and the marble has a design and colors that correspond to the designs on the walls; the huge chandelier in the middle of the room, which they refer to as aranas (spiders, literally), is the biggest chandelier in the whole palace, and of course the furniture is just immaculate with beautiful hand-woven fabric…it sounds like all the detail and design would just be too much for a single room, but no, it’s amazing.  I was just awestruck when we came into that room and didn’t want to leave. &lt;br /&gt;Aside from that room, we saw tons of others: the throne room, the smoking room, the reading room, the “porcelain room,” the “yellow room” (it’s just decorated with this incredible yellow silk or some sort of fabric all over the curtains and floor and walls, etc. Really pretty, but come on, a “yellow room”…what’s the point? Go there when you’re feeling blue so it balances you out?! And for some strange reason and protocol from back in time of Carlos III and Carlos IV, the king and queen are not allowed to sit in the thrones in the throne room. The only stand in front of them to accept gifts or visitors, but never sit. I asked our tour guide why, but she didn’t know…weird.  Man, if I were a security guard there, I’d go sneak in and sit in the thrones… &lt;br /&gt;What I don’t get, is why there are rooms for such specific things?!?! I mean, if you want to smoke, why don’t you just take a step outside, or if you want to read, why can’t you read in the ‘chatting room’ or your bedroom? Crazy. Oh well, it makes for pretty rooms.&lt;br /&gt;Ok. We also went to the Prado, the famous art museum with tons of famous paintings. We had a tour again, which was cool because people like me who don’t know much about art learned a lot about the artists and the stories behind the paintings, but at the same time it would’ve been cool to just have time to wander around and see more of the museum. I saw a few paintings that I had read/learned about in some of my Spanish classes, so it was really cool to see the real thing right there before my eyes, but 20 times bigger and more amazing than in a book.&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to the big park, El Parque de Buen Retiro, which was where the king/queen would retreat to to relax, and be sort of removed from the center of the city, back in the times when they actually lived at Palacio Real. The park is amazing. It’s huge, has wide and long paths for running, has open fields, a pond, a mini-lake where you can rent a paddle boat, and tons of other stuff to do. I really liked Madrid…hope to go back and see more of it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segovia:&lt;br /&gt;We then had a day trip out to Segovia, near Madrid, which is famous for the aqueduct there that´s been there since...well, ages ago. It brought water from across the city, distributed it different places, and ended in the castle where the king and queen lived.  Segovia´s pretty small, but it´s really cute, and obviously has lots of history. We went and saw the big cathedral there, which was HUGE, and then we went to the old castle where the king and queen used to live, which actually served as the inspiration for the Walt Disney castle...crazy! it looks pretty similar...the castle is really pretty on the outside, and from the tower where we went (which meant climbing an insanely spirally and steep staircase to get there...) there are great view of the entire city and thereabouts, and it was so cool because I actually felt like I was in the “olden” days because you see all these small paths leading up to and away from the castle, little villages in the distance, and just wide, open spaces...I felt like Rapunzel kind of...?minus the long hair...and boy. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, then we got a tour of the castle, got to see the thrones, the ´armor´ room where they keep all the old armor, which, after Palacio Real in Madrid, was nothing, but still cool, etc. The castle actually caught on fire and ruined a good portion of the old, beautiful roofs and ceilings, paintings and walls, but they’ve done a pretty good job restoring it to look like the original version. Oh. And go in the spring or summer. It was freezing. The castle is made out of stone, obviously, which keeps in the cold, instead of keeping the cold out, and it feels like you’re trapped in an icebox. Luckily they’ve installed windows instead of leaving the window spaces open like in the centuries past, otherwise I’d still be frozen there. Segovia´s a really cute city. Go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Portugal:&lt;br /&gt;From Madrid, my friend Austen and I and her mom headed off to Lisbon for a few days, and I loved it! The Portuguese people were all so nice to us and helpful, friendly, funny, etc. The main thing that was really weird for me was that I would begin speaking in Spanish to whoever I talked to, but apparently the Portuguese (generally speaking, based off of what we encountered) don’t speak Spanish. They don’t like it. Rumor has it that the Portuguese view the Spaniards as these big-time conquistadores who are all really proud, etc., so the portuguese hold a grudge against them, and therefore for the most part don’t speak Spanish. I never would’ve guessed...anyway, so Lisbon is this really old town, which you can tell by first glance there, and it´s also pretty clear that the Portuguese economy is not treating them so well, either. Most of the old buildings are run-down and in need of major repair but no one can really afford said repairs to the buildings just continue to be rundown and ram-shackled and old. However, this is not describing the whole city...just...most parts of it. We went to another side of the city one day to see the oceanarium, which is basically just a huge aquarium with tons of fish, sharks, stingrays, penguins, sea otters, etc....stuff you would find in the ocean. duh. And that part of town was really nice. It was also the more metropolitan side of town, so I guess that explains it, but still.&lt;br /&gt;One day we decided to go out to a place called Sintra, which is kind of like a suburb of Lisboa, about a 45 minute train ride away, and wow, loved it. It’s a really historically-important city, because it was where the king and queen of Portugal had there summer palace, and where there are other Moorish castles and another palace, etc. We caught a bus to go up to the big palace, and the whole way up the mountain, we were going back and forth on switchbacks on this tiny road in this huge bus, but all around us were lush green forests, a stone wall covered in moss and vines lining the road, and holy cow, I felt like I was in a fairytale….with cars…without my prince charming and horse-drawn carriage. It was just lovely! So we arrive a bit later at this castle, I believe it was called Palacio de la Pena, and out there everything was soo green! I guess I’m not surrounded with enough trees and green things in Granada that I was just caught off guard…in a good way. The palace was, of course, amazing. It has great views looking out all over Lisbon and Sintra and the surrounding areas, and it’s decorated with lots of colors on the outside, and the inside is also awesome, too. Then we went to the Moorish castle down the road…totally different…basically stone walls constructed, not really roofs or anything, but all the stones were growing moss and it was all so cute!&lt;br /&gt;For superbowl Sunday, we really wanted to watch the game, but we couldn’t find a place that was showing it, so we were on our way back to our hostel when we stumbled across a friend of ours outside the Hard Rock Café, and it turned out they were showing it that night, so of course we had to go. Let’s just say, lots and lots of Americans, a few big tv screens, and lots of beer later, the upstairs part of the Hard Rock was crazy. Right next to us, there was a huge table of ½ Americans, ½ Portuguese guys, who turned out to be players for the various Portuguese national basketball teams. We started up a conversation with one of them, he was really nice, from Colorado or California, and ended up ‘knowing’ one of the girls I was with…I only say ‘knowing’ that way, because he only recognized her from facebook, but they had never personally met…crazy. And a crazy game.&lt;br /&gt;Our last day in Lisbon, we went to Belém, which is just the name of a section of the big city, it’s really old and cute, but we got there around 6 in the evening so it was already getting dark and we had to be back to go to dinner in a bit, so we wandered for a bit, and came across this bakery that, for some reason or another, had these two huge lines of people going out the doors and we were like, whattttt?? So I went inside to check it out, expecting something out of the ordinary to explain the lines, but no. just a restaurant/bakery that apparently is super popular, and it might have to do that it was a holiday/carnival/fat Tuesday(?)…but I noticed that every single table had these little pie things, and everyone walking out of the place was eating them, so we were like, we might as well get in line and check it out…luckily! Turns out those little pie things are the most amazing egg cream pies ever, served steaming hot, right out of the oven, and they just dissolve in your mouth. &lt;br /&gt;For our last night there we went to a Fado performance. Fado is a type of song/music, that is native to Portugal, but especially in Lisbon. No one knows for sure when it was born, but apparently the Portuguese used to sing Fado out in the streets, and it has evolved into basically the national type of music/song of Portugal. The word ‘fado’ comes from the latin word ‘factum’ I believe, or whatever latin word means fate or destiny, so essentially the singers/guitarists are singing and playing about their destiny.  Most of the songs were pretty melancholic, though there were a few songs that seemed happy…our waiter said that destiny used to be viewed as something sad/melancholic, hence the type of song. So anyway, how it worked was this: we go to this hole-in-the-wall type place, that turned out to be a really high-rolling place, really fancy inside, and you order your food, and then around 9:30 or 10 the guitarists come out, followed by a singer, sit in the middle of the restaurant, sing/play a set of about 3-4 songs, during which the lights are dimmed and the restaurant turns silent except for the music, and then the musicians leave for about 10-15 minutes until the next set. It was really cool…even though I didn’t really know what they were saying in the songs…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-6581989315354602152?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6581989315354602152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=6581989315354602152' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6581989315354602152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6581989315354602152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/02/textbooks-come-to-life.html' title='textbooks come to life!'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-2206967298709520809</id><published>2008-02-08T06:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T06:37:42.878-06:00</updated><title type='text'>patience, patience, patience</title><content type='html'>well, today was a lesson in patience. i went with a few others to register for my class at the university, and after waiting for 3 hours, we were told that their system is screwed up so come back later. oh well. oh. haha, but before that all happened, i had a fiasco with the bus system...I had to take a bus to get to the building across town, so i got on one, but i still wasn´t really sure where the builiding was (i´d only been there once before...) so i realized we´re not anywhere near it, so i got off, and ended up having to backtrack my way a good 3 miles up the hill to find the building. I ended up showing up 20 minutes late for the "appointment" we all had, but in the end that didn´t matter! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, had my first day of classes yesterday...2 poli.sci classes and one literature class. they all seem reallly cool, the professors are nice and funny and really want to make the classes interesting, so it´s looking good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i´ll post later about my trip...but it was good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-2206967298709520809?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2206967298709520809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=2206967298709520809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2206967298709520809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2206967298709520809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/02/patience-patience-patience.html' title='patience, patience, patience'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-6726629954775918367</id><published>2008-01-28T11:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T11:16:28.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'>hago footing</title><content type='html'>new spanish vocab of the day: hacer footing = to run, jog&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how they take little 'snippits' here and there from English and mold it to their language...anyway, I've finally had time enough to go out and explore places to run!!! I live about 2 blocks away from a park, el Parque de Federico Garcia Lorca, which is a beautiful park, but the parks here are definitely different from the typical 'park' in the States...when I think of a park, I immediately think of Zilker, with Barton Springs, open fields for playing soccer, football, frisbee,brugby, lo que sea, open spaces, some jungle gyms, etc...here, parks are some of the rare places where you can actually find grass, and trees, and plants, and thus they want to preserve all these things, aka, you can't sit on the grass without risking getting yelled at by the police...but anyway, this park is really pretty, and it has benches and a loop of about 1 kilometer to walk/run on, but man, after running that loop over and over again several times in a row, you just want to quit and go home...it's so boring! and people give you weird looks! especially if you're a girl! SOOOO I obviously decided to find an alternative...turns out that just right behind the park, there is a paved bike path that goes in 2 directions, so one day i went one way, and the next i went the other, and this is what i found: the first day, i followed the path that took me along what seemed to be an important, busy road, across a bridge, and then brought me to another 'parkish' type place...basically just some more gravel loops (bigger and more options than 1 km) and then the paved bike path kept going along the highway till it dead-ended somewhere businessy....&lt;br /&gt;the other way was cooler...it takes you along the road, in a pretty, tree-line path, takes you across the highway under the cross-over, along some more roads, and then leads you out to some off-road running...as in, along corn fields or whatever they grow here...and the best news about any of this that i was afraid of: there were TONS of people running and biking in BOTH directions! so i felt safe!!! yes!!! so now, once classes start and my schedule gets to normal, i have places to run...which, as i knew before as theory but as my experience proves to be more than entirely correct, i need to run. literally. or i get anal and uptight and lose perspective. thank god for running.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-6726629954775918367?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6726629954775918367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=6726629954775918367' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6726629954775918367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6726629954775918367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/01/hago-footing.html' title='hago footing'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-2904959281001233028</id><published>2008-01-25T06:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T06:05:00.603-06:00</updated><title type='text'>la vida espanola</title><content type='html'>If you’re looking to perfect the art of window shopping, or be continually impressed by seeing women of all ages dressed to impress in their short skirts and high-heeled boots mount a motorcycle, and still seem glamorous, come to Spain; perhaps all of Europe is like this, but Spain is all I know so far, so that’s that.  But back to the shopping: basically it’s one of the facets of the ‘culture’ (if you could call it that) that I am exposed to, day in and day out, without fail. I mean, I suppose it’d be impossible to not be exposed to it considering all the streets are just lined with stores of all kinds (I’d say the shoe industry takes the cake here, though) but man, even MEN here do it! Yes, for all you men out there, men here shop everyday…dragged by their woman, but still…&lt;br /&gt;And the motorcycles! They’re everywhere! While in Chile the micros dominated the streets, here it’s the moto’s as they’re referred to. People of all ages drive them (the other day I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when I saw a couple of approximately 70 yrs old put on their helmets and climb on a moto), and they just weave in and out of the cars on the streets, making driving here a bit more scary than usual, I’m sure…&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let’s pull a Hank Snow here and move on…let’s see…what else have I done recently? Oh yah, one of my host sister’s, Maria, 20, took Lara and I out for a day in the ‘country’ with her boyfriend and a small group of friends. Her boyfriend, Jose Miguel (JoséMi, for short) came and picked us up last Sunday morning, and we walked down, to see a nice, shiny Mercedes waiting for us. Now, I’m not judging, I was just surprised…as was Lara, I discovered by her glances in my direction…we went to his house real fast to get in his OTHER, older car to take out to the country, and to pick up the other guys. The other guys were Alfonso, Jose’s younger brother, and 2 friends, Fran (Francisco), and Antonio…together, these three guys were basically the three musketeers, and the entertainment (albeit incredibly immature and astonishing at their comments) for the afternoon. All the guys were really nice, and finally after the ice broke between the americanas and the Spaniards during lunch, we were able to be more a part of the mainstream conversation…We went outside of Granada to a place called Los Cahorros, which I think is, or is part of, a national park, where there were hanging bridges, great views, and trails to hike on…it was really fun. On our way back to the car, we passed a pseudo-bullfight…well, I mean there was one bull in a small ring, and a group of people (mainly young men) standing outside, taking turns jumping in the ring to taunt the bull and jump out again before getting killed….reminded me that I want to go see a real bull fight sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically I keep a pretty routine schedule here so far, with my one, four-hour class everyday, only then to return home, eat lunch, take a siesta or do nothing while the Spanish world takes a 4-hr. midday break until about 5, and then I either have little outings with the group or friends, or meetings trying to figure out classes that will officially start Feb. 7, or at the University, Feb. 18.  The program here is different than the one in Chile, but from what I gather from a year-long student here about the university here in Granada, it’s ok. Meaning, classes here are hard, and well, I’d be in spain like all summer were I to take numerous classes and thus making me wait till july to take exams. gag.  So this is what I’m doing for classes: taking 4 classes at the Centro de Lenguas Modernas, and one class at the University. I asked the professor from the University who was guiding us in choosing our courses, and she, too recommended that I only take one course at the university…so what’s done is done. I’ll be taking the following courses at the Centro:  Image of women in Literature, Socio-political issues in current-day Spain, Political System of the European Union, History of Spain from Franco to today; and at the University, I’ll be taking either Antropologia de la etnicidad, or history of women…don’t know yet which one…either at 8 at night, or 8 in the morning…wooh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once this ‘intensive’ Spanish class ends next Tuesday, my program is taking a 4 day trip up to Toledo, Madrid, and Segovia, and then we have 4-5 days free until classes start for real, so a friend and I are taking advantage of that time and going to Portugal! We’ll be leaving immediately from Madrid to go to Lisboa (Lisbon) for 3 days…should be fun!&lt;br /&gt;AND, I have also committed myself to a trip to Morocco. It’ll be safe, and it seems extremely eye-opening and culturally-rewarding. While it’s kinda expensive, whatev. Morocco! I felt like I owed it to myself to see firsthand the culture that has influenced the city where I’m living for 5-6 months, and also to learn more about the Moroccan people and their culture, the Islamic religion, etc. I’ll be doing a 4-day trip at the end of February, so I’ll be sure to let you know how it went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just to end on a super positive note (hah), my stomach doesn’t seem to be agreeing with something over here…not sure if it’s the food, the water, the….??? No sé! I don’t know! But anyway, my stomach has been bothering me lately, I slept 14 hrs last night (day?), and the day before Lara was sick all day, other people have been out…so not really sure what’s up, but mannnn I hope it passes soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-2904959281001233028?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2904959281001233028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=2904959281001233028' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2904959281001233028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/2904959281001233028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/01/la-vida-espanola.html' title='la vida espanola'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-4141117655961296789</id><published>2008-01-14T10:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T10:44:44.643-06:00</updated><title type='text'>tenemos un dia de perros</title><content type='html'>...meaning it's raining today. bummer. Well, today on the way to class I learned that basically it's not socially acceptable to walk around with a rainjacket (especially if it's bright green) with the hood on, but rather you should use an umbrella instead...especially if you're female. That's just too bad, because i'm wearing my rainjacket...Also, I am quickly picking up (after being told by my professors and experiencing it firsthand) that Spaniards, and especially Granadinos, are snotty, stuck up, difficult to approach, and even harder to avoid being run into by one of them on the sidewalk, because they OWN the sidewalk. And when you combine people who won't move out of your way, with people carrying umbrellas, you get pushed off the sidewalk, and/or nearly poked in the eye with the umbrella numerous times. fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from snotty Spaniards, we went to the Albaicin a few days ago, and to the Alhambra yesterday on guided tours. The Albaicin is the old Muslim community from back in the time when Muslims ruled Granada, up through los reyes catolicos, and beyond. Basically, it's a large, expansive neighborhood, full of houses of old and beautiful architecture, white houses, tiny, windy, cobblestone roads, and beautiful views out over other parts of Granada. From one point in the Albaicin, in a plaza that seemed to be a pretty popular hippy hangout spot, we got an amazing view of the Alhambra, which leads me into the visit we had yesterday. To begin, the Alhambra is the big, old Muslim fortress that the Muslims used, and which served as a city for a period of time for the Muslims in Granada when the Christians were invading. Before going to the Alhambra, I knew it was big, but mannnnn, it's HUGE!!! It's divided into different sections...the ones I remember are: the Alcazaba (i think...), which is the military part of it, consisting of underground prisoner cells, and a tall torre for looking out to the entrance and exit of the city to keep an eye out for Christians or any other invader; los palacios, which was where we spent the majority of our time, and just mesmerized me...there are 3 palacios in the Alhambra, and they're all meticulously built and decorated on the inside with beautiful Arabic art and words and designs just completely covering the walls, poles, ceilings, etc., which is really cool because on the exterior, Muslim buildings are plain and simple, and lacking in any sort of decoration, but on the inside it is completely the opposite, and you feel like you're in an entirely different country/world/etc...; and the last part is called the Generalife, which is basically the gardens. We only spent a little bit of time in the garden, as it was cold and people wanted to leave, but the little i saw was cool. I definitely plan on returning in the spring/summer at least once more to see all the trees, plants, and flowers blooming in the gardens outside, and to see the rest of the gardens, etc. We were also going to see the special Palacio Carlos V, but unfortunately the Prime Minister of Turkey was visiting (cool!) so of course the security was tight and they wouldn't let us into certain sections where he'd be...bummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from all that, pretty 'normal' here, I suppose...as normal as could be. I get to take the typical 'spanish shower' whenever i want to shower, which means my hygiene is kind of lacking...Spain is in the middle of a really bad drought, so basically no one can take a normal shower, literally, there's just not enough water. my typical shower consists of  (well, we have no shower curtain which complicates things) me crouching under the faucet to wet my hair, turning off the water, shampooing my hair, rinsing it out, turn off water, clean body and conditioner, turn off water, all the while trying not to convulse from freezing. I can't wait till warm weather. and a normal "shower."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-4141117655961296789?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4141117655961296789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=4141117655961296789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4141117655961296789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/4141117655961296789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/01/tenemos-un-dia-de-perros.html' title='tenemos un dia de perros'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-6259244257893058358</id><published>2008-01-09T11:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T11:27:05.315-06:00</updated><title type='text'>no pasa nada</title><content type='html'>"no pasa nada" is the typical phrase of all Spaniards...everyone from professors to my host sisters to program directors say it allll the time. and well, i guess it's true from time to time. Yesterday me and two other girls had a funny encounter; we decided to stop at a little cafe on our way home, where there were two genuine hippies chillin playing their guitarras y drinking coffee. They asked us to sit down with them at their table, we obliged expecting them to actually talking to us...wellll were we wrong! we sit down, and they both immediately start singing and playing their guitars as if we weren't even there. So obviously i'm sitting there half cracking up and avoiding eye contact with the other girls because it was just such an awkward situation and we didn't know what to do...We order, drink up rather fast, and just chuckle at this guy who is so obviously high stare into space and sing some lyrics, with his other friend repeating, "ole, ole, ole!" yah, that was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of my "intensive" Spanish class that i have for three weeks...it's four hrs long. but we have some interesting people in the class: a woman from Brasil, an older man from Italy, a guy from Germany, a girl from Mexico and us Americans, and our professors (we switch profs halfway during the class) are cool and funny and energetic. On our way back home after class, we took a different route that brought us through some hills just chalk full of apartments and buildings with tiny roads going up and down, and this part of the city, even though it was cleaner and not quite as colorful as Valparaiso, reminded me of the cerros of Valpo...ooohhh Chile. I miss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-6259244257893058358?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6259244257893058358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=6259244257893058358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6259244257893058358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6259244257893058358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/01/no-pasa-nada.html' title='no pasa nada'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-6497257595691131252</id><published>2008-01-08T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T16:41:52.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ESPAÑA</title><content type='html'>pues, estoy aquí en la gran españa por fin, después de muchos años de soñar de esta experiencia...ok, inglés ahora. well, this is my first time with internet (in a lovely internet cafe...) since i got to spain on sunday...i wrote down what´s happpened in the past few days, so im going to recap it all right here, right now, to catch you up, all you faithful followers...:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUNDAY:&lt;br /&gt;The trip here was overwhelming and exhausting, but i finally arrived. After a stupid misshap on my part in the NY airport causing me to have to go through security twice in a row after stupidly leaving what happened to be the correct terminal to go to the wrong one, re-entering security with my nalgene full of water, and finally successfully passing through without another problem, i ended up at my gate (thank goodness for my 4 hr. layover...) where in a short 1-2 hrs about 50 or so other students would arrive to travel to spain, only setting me into a state of displeasing anxiety. Ever since leaving my house and austin that day, i had the mentality that i was just going on another fun, little (¿big?) adventure, and i had just placed my fears and worries aside. I mean, anxiety is only for first-timers, right?! wrong. These students were loud and obnoxious, didn´t understand the lady who spoke on the intercom thing in Spanish, and they just freaked me out. Luckily, i didnt sit anywhere near the group on the flight to madrid...Once landing and going through intl. customs, i went to buscar mi equipaje to check it onto my last flight to Granada. Well, after being one of the final people waiting at baggage claim and not seeing my luggage, i finally asked a lady and got a WONDERFUL first impression of the Spanish people when she responded to my inquiries with shouting at me to get out my "bag tags," and when i told her i had no idea what a bag tag is but handed over all my paperwork to her, she found these ´tags´ and was like, "well, what do you think THESE are?" woah. well, anyway, apparently my bags went all the way to granada...so next i go up to find the counter to get my boarding pass on the other airline, couldnt´find it because i was in the wrong terminal ( apparently i have a problem with airport terminals...?) and so i took a long shuttle ride to get there, almost stood in a mile-long line to get my ticket until i saw a kiosk to get it instantly,s o i cut in front of some people, printed it out, and ran to find my gate...my plane was leaving soon...so i get there as they´re boarding, and then we end up sitting in a barely half-filled plane on the runway for a good half hour before taking off. phew. then we land in granada, where the weather was fairly comparable to that of texas with clear, blue skies, and the snow-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada inthe distance...But the adventure doesnt end there!  Once again i´m the last one waiting for my bags that were never going to come, until i hear the fateful words, "no hay más" (no more!) PUCHA! So i found the program directors at teh airport, go to declare my baggage, find out theyre not even in the sistema, and well...whatev...but despite all the trouble in the airport, i got to re-polish my rusty spanish with Christina, the lady with me, who´s Spanish, and we had a nice, flowing conversation! i can say for a fact i wouldn´t have been able to do that at teh beginnign of last semester in chile, that´s for sure. I felt much more confident, and didn´t really think about what i was saying, it simply just happened! Now, i assure you i don´t mean for this to sound like i´m full of myself, as there is most definitely room for improvement, but i have improved, no doubt. And i only assume that that is expected of me anyway...so yah.&lt;br /&gt;After napping and waiting for the other people to arrive, we all meet eachother and then take a quick stroll through Granada to see the exquisite Christmas lights and decorations, since it was the very last night they´d be up for the year. We then went to a restaurant for dinner, andthen finally i was able to sleeeeep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONDAY:&lt;br /&gt;We woke up, had a group orientation meeting (yawn) for a couple fo hours, adn then ventured out as a group to see the major plazas (and there are tons!) and see the city in daylight por fin. Sunday was actually a holiday, but our director told us that since teh holiday fell on a Sunday, a day that people already have off from work, they just move the day off work to Monday...since i mean, what´s the point of a holiday if you dont get a day off work, right?! Today was also the day that everything, and i mean everything, goes on sale for a good 2 months...there are loads and loads of ´rebajas´ (discounts), and so the streets were just packed with people carrying their loads of bags. Granada is absolutely charming: the old, ancient architecture lines all the streets, and nearly everything down to the sidewalks and lamp poles are pretty with intricate details. Already from the get-go, i´m just amazed (not surprised, just amazed) at teh striking differences between granada, and valpo/vina where one can distinguish between the different social classes from teh sectors of the city that people live in, all the way down to how people carry themselves, talk, dress, etc. But here, i havent noticed--or asked anyone for that matter--anything pertaining to different classes...but perhaps because Chile is known to be--and any chilean will openly admit this without any shame--a very, very classist society, and i´m not yet sure about spain/granada.&lt;br /&gt;Anway, so we went and saw several plazas, had a brief introduction to the old original Jewish neighborhood, the sección más arabe de la ciudad, which is the Albaicin i think, where it is not uncommon to hear lots of arabic beign spoken and see lots of people from northern africa. I´m still completely disoriented as far as directions and streets go, but whatev, i´ll figure it out eventually, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TUESDAY:&lt;br /&gt;Today we took a placement test for our level of spanish, and then came back to the hotel to meet our host family!!! This semester the living conditions are a bit different: i live with a senora, Beatriz, adn her two daughters, Maria (20), and Gabriela (19). I also live with another girl from my program, which is kind of weird, but ok...her name is Lara, and she´s really nice, and it is actually nice to have her company. We only speak in spanish to eachother, which i´m really grateful for, because i was afraid that living with another gringa would hamper my spanish speaking time, but so far so good. We live ina  small apartment, but i have my own room, as does Lara, and it´s just simple and easy living. The girls are both pretty shy and quiet, but as we continue asking them questions, i have no doubt they´ll open up to us...or maybe im being too hopeful? So tomorrow we begin our 3-wk intensive spanish class...it´s five days a week, four hours a day. GAG. oh well.&lt;br /&gt;más luego. ciao, y keep in touch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-6497257595691131252?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6497257595691131252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=6497257595691131252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6497257595691131252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/6497257595691131252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2008/01/espaa_08.html' title='ESPAÑA'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-39991854160569133</id><published>2007-12-10T21:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T21:58:09.343-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pichilemu</title><content type='html'>alrighty...this is my last post before i'm back stateside!!! Jen and I went to Pichilemu for a week to surf and relax, etc...Pichilemu is a pretty small town right on the coast (obviously) that is super cute, has really chill people, and is basically just a really well-known surf town. All along the coast/beach there are various surf shops and surf schools, restaurants, a fish market where you can buy freshly-caught fish, artesania markets, etc. The main beach is huge and i'm sure that in the high season (january, february) it fills up completely with beach-goers, tourists, surfers, etc.&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, when Jen and i arrived, we had no set plans as to where we were going to stay, so we wandered up to the first hostel we saw which was right next to where the bus randomly dropped us off, and the old lady at the hostel said it would cost us each 3 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mil &lt;/span&gt;a night, per person, to stay there (that's 6 dollars a night...) so we were kind of skeptical at first, but she showed us the room where we'd stay (it was a huge room with 5 beds, floor space, a light...all the necessaries...)so we just decided, what the heck? so we paid the lady, got settled, then headed out to find the surf shop we'd read about with the owner/surf instructor who is really well-known in town, etc...Elvis Munoz. We eventually find his shop, meet him, and decide to do some surf lessons to begin the next day...monday...pretty good deal.  The next day, we had our first lesson of surfing, where he suited us up in full-body wetsuits (the water there is FREEZING), and taught us how to stand up and position ourselves on the board in the water... then we headed out to the waves. Those first few minutes (or rather...the whole first hour) i was terrified. Elvis brought us out to the big waves first, where we had to paddle a ton, avoid big waves, try not to get owned by the waves, and eventually head back in toward the beach...wow, i was so scared. not to mention, the freezing cold water on my hands and head only made me more anxious...phewwwww...but in our 'class' there were also these two girls from Germany--Mary and Pepsi--who were doing their last semester of med school in Buenos Aires and were travelling for a bit in their break, and they were really cool, we ended up hanging out at the end...etc...and they didnt really surf either, so i felt better about that...and my lack of surfing capabilities...&lt;br /&gt;Anywayyyy...so each day we had 'class' at around 10:30 in the morning (which in Elvis' world really means that he'll show up around 10:30 or 11 and we'll get in the water around 11:30ish...) and we surf for 2-3 hours, then have a break for lunch, and come back around 5ish to surf in the high tide waves (much bigger) and experience the wonderfully strong current that the beach had...) so basically every night, jen and i would walk back to our hostel, have something to eat, gather enough energy to shower, and then hit the sack...haha...however, to add a twist to our schedule, we realized one day (i think it was thursday) that well, (jen realized it first...) that our money had disappeared. yah. Jen was searching crazily for her money that she knew she didnt spend and had gone through everything, had torn the room apart, and just couldnt find it. So then i decided to just make sure the remaining money i had set aside for the rest of the week was still weher i had put it...and it...wasn't there! what do ya know? soooooo it was in that moment that we were just turned off from that old lady, frustrated, angry, and not really sure about what we should do....we decide to approach this lady (we still had 3 more nights in pichilemu...and had a great deal as far as the per night price went...) so anyway, we tell the lady that well, we're missing some money, kind of alot, the only money we had left, and well, we were 100% positive that we had locked our door every single time we left, etc. and that this kind of told us something was going on. On a side note, we were the only people staying htere at that moment, and the old lady had these two young girls working for her...So yah, this old lady gets absolutely pissed off that we would even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think &lt;/span&gt;that we were stolen from, and starts lecturing us that no one has ever been stolen from who's stayed at her hostel...and then she says that only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt; has the one spare key for the rooms, that she keeps them hidden from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt;, and then proceeds to ask one of the girls (who both came in to listen) to go and get the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hidden &lt;/span&gt;keys...pshhhh...THEN both of the girls were like, "oh, well your door was unlocked one of the days...like...one or two days ago..." and jen and i just looked at eachother and we were like, RIGHT. NOT. liars. we are sooo positive that it was closed, i mean, it was this huge lock, like you use on lockers, so its kinda easy to tell if its locked or not...anyway, the lady proceeds to yell and lecture us more, and then says, well, if you dont trust me, i dont trust you, so i dont want yall to stay here anymore...we had already paid for all nights, so jen refused to leave without the money for the remaining 3 nights, and we left quietly, after the two girls had started crying...haha...&lt;br /&gt;So after being kicked out of our hostel with our approximately $36 that we had for both of us to find new alojamiento for three more nights, we wandered a bit, and ended up at a really nice &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;residencial&lt;/span&gt; that offered us 5 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mil &lt;/span&gt;a night per person ($10) and we were just like, fine, lets do it...ahhh...then we went and grudgingly got more money out of the atm (we were set on not getting any more out..but well, we wanted to eat....) skipped surfing that night, relaxed, etc.&lt;br /&gt;The previous day in surfing i had hurt my knee in the wave after falling off the board (apparently i had a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ligamento torcido...&lt;/span&gt;messed up ligament&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)...&lt;/span&gt;go figure...hurt once again...so basically i couldnt walk normally, which meant no more surfing for me for the week. which meant, being bored for those 6ish hours everyday while everyone surfs. oh well. at least teh people at the surf shop where i chilled were friendly and nice, right?!&lt;br /&gt;Soooooo that's basically what we did all week...surfed, slept, ate, scrounged for the cheapest food, met cool surfer people, etc. Our last night in Pichilemu, Elvis invited us all to an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;asado&lt;/span&gt; that his friend/neighbor was having...so he comes to pick us up at our new hostel at 10:30 ish, and we show up to someone's backyard where there are basically a group of older people (ok, not that old, but parent age...people with kids...with a few younger ones, like 25 yrs old...) and it's basically just this tight-knit group of friends, a few surfers, and lots of them related in some strange way, etc...but they were all so cool! Once the awkwardness turned into conversation, and once the chileans who spoke english (which turned out to be most of them...and very good english) they would just keep asking us questions, and really wanted to practice their english...so it all worked out...and then these two moms there insisted on us drinking the suave piscolas that their husbands kept making them...i dont know how many piscolas i drank while we were there, but mannnnnnn were they suave or what! and THEN at 3 am, when all the liquor had disappeared, they decided to head out to a club...so of course we had to go! Anyway, we went and danced alot, met more people at the club, had a good time, and after the discotheque's lights came on and closed at 5 am, we eventually made it home and were in bed at 6 am...only to wake up 2 hrs later, pack, and head out for jen's last surf lesson (to which elvis showed up an hour late, adn they ended up getting in teh water at 12:30...haha) and then we grabbed a quick empanada, and caught the bus for our commute back to santiago and vina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all, a good week, but it was nice to come back to a comfortable bed, normal food, and not having to pay for everything. haha. AND, today i packed with jess (i hate packing with a passion), and tomorrow i'm taking the bus with the group and heading out tomorrow night toward miami, then dallas, then AUSTIN!&lt;br /&gt;It's been a great semester, it's flown by, but it's time to get back (if only for a little), to see people, absorb as much &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;American&lt;/span&gt; as possible, and relax over x-mas and new years, and then head back overseas for some more adventures...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-39991854160569133?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/39991854160569133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=39991854160569133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/39991854160569133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/39991854160569133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/12/pichilemu.html' title='Pichilemu'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-914490358844093323</id><published>2007-12-04T11:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T12:18:58.684-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Siete Tazas...and an Israeli couple...</title><content type='html'>So for my final week and a half down here in Chile, I took off with Jen to go south to Reserva Nacional Siete Tazas with Jen to camp for a couple of nights before heading to Pichilemu to surf. Before we actually arrived at Siete Tazas, we were sitting around in a plaza in a small town, Curico, waiting for the only bus that runs out to the park, when these two gringo-looking people approached us and we all started chatting. Turns out they´re a couple from Israel taking a WHOLE YEAR travelling around central and south america! wow. So anyway, they were going out to siete tazas as well, so we ended up getting a campground near them, sharing a fire, hiking together the next day, and listening to their endless stories from all around the world, their travels, and what it´s like to live in Israel...needless to say, it was really interesting, but jen a i both realized we felt really boring when we were with them...Melissa, the wife, was also full of rasicst and non-politically correct jokes, so sitting around the campfire witht htem was really fun! however, they also gave us crap for having "&lt;em&gt;soo much stuff" &lt;/em&gt;for only 10 days...they each only had a huge backpack and another backpack a &lt;em&gt;little&lt;/em&gt; smaller than the ones we had...for an entire &lt;em&gt;year. &lt;/em&gt;Man, I really dont know if i could go a full year travelling like that, but props to them...&lt;br /&gt;The next day when we went up to the actual park, we had to hike about 6.5 km along a dirt and rocky road to get to the entrance to the park, where we could actually see the waterfalls.  &lt;em&gt;Siete tazas &lt;/em&gt;refers to what is at the bottom of the waterfall(s)...There is this one huge waterfall that falls into a little pool area, &lt;em&gt;la taza, &lt;/em&gt;that then turns into another waterfall that falls into another &lt;em&gt;taza,&lt;/em&gt; and the cycle continues seven times...it was really a sight to see all the continuous waterfalls....there were also a couple other relatively big waterfalls along the way...and all this water is just so bright blue! We were able to climb down to near the bottom of one of the waterfalls, (the water is freeeeeezing) and we only stuck our feet in, but the crazy Israeli, Ilan, went swimming in the water...ahhhhh....The park itself was really pretty too....lots of green green green everywhere...&lt;br /&gt;That night we just had a relaxing night around the campfire with the Israelis, heard more stories and more jokes, felt boring, and then said goodbyes, since they were leaving super early in the morning to their next destination....phew. The next day Jen and i had a nice long run along the wonderful rocky and desolate road, came back and quite literally &lt;em&gt;iced &lt;/em&gt;our legs in the freezing river/creek that ran right by our campsite...Then after lunch time when we were just pathetically laying on our cheap sleeping mats out in the middle of our campsite trying to stay warm and avoid the crazy dogs and chickens that just roamed the campsite, the sketchy men from the campsite next to us came over and gave us a plate of their wonderful campsite-food lunch...i really think they thought we had no food, since they probably didnt see us eating anything...but nonetheless, we got a free extra lunch out of it...potatoes, chicken (delish), and a tomatoe salad that Jen got to enjoy on her own...&lt;br /&gt;That afternoon we caught the bus that runs by only 2 times a day and headed back to Curico to get a hostal for the night (that was the MOST disgusting place EVER) before catching yet another bus to get to Pichilemu, where we are now, surfing, eating, running, sleeping and relaxing for our last week in Chile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-914490358844093323?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/914490358844093323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=914490358844093323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/914490358844093323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/914490358844093323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/12/siete-tazasand-israeli-couple.html' title='Siete Tazas...and an Israeli couple...'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-759386436685021968</id><published>2007-11-28T23:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T23:37:01.954-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 weeks notice</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;wow. november absolutely flewwwww by. sorry it's been a month. anyway, obviously a ton has happened since october...let's see:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;i went to Horcon with Jen...a      small coastal city about an hour and a half north of vina... (the place      where jen and i originally planned to bike to previously...we took a bus      this time...) and got to have a nice relaxing friday on the beach. We had      to go down some really treacherous 'stair's to get to the beach, which we      ended up having to ourselves, until about 30 minutes later we decided we      were hungry and got up and went searching for empanadas...only making us      go back &lt;i&gt;up &lt;/i&gt;the same stairs...it was an experience.  So anyway,      we finallllly found a place that actually had empanadas that day, and had      a nice lunch of cheese empanadas and beer along the beach. oh i love      chile.  later we found another beach, laid out there for a bit, while      getting constant &lt;i&gt;piropos&lt;/i&gt; from the surfers and bodyboarders out in      the water....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;we had our last COPA group      trip up to La Serena...yet another beach city, similar to Vina, like 5-6      hrs north. We stayed in some cabanas by el mar, which was cool so we got      to do some cooking instead of gastar-ing todo our plata en      restaurantes.  Anyway, so the first night there all of us decided to      do a big pot-luck feast, where each cabana brought a dish or two of their      choosing for everyone, and it turned out really nice! There was tons of      food, the guys did some barbequing, and it was really fun. The next day,      Katie and Jess and I decide to hit up downtown La Serena, so we walk to      the highway to get a micro, we get there ok and walk around...hit up the      huge mercado, see the old colonial-style buildings and walkways, and then      decide to head home. its 4.30 in the afternoon. only thing is, we didnt      know the name of the cabanas, nor where exactly they were located, cuz      they were sort of out of the city...so we get on a micro that we thought      was the right one...turns out it starts driving teh completely wrong way      on the highway, so we get off immediately, cross the highway and realize      we have no idea which micro we need to subir. sooo i call Vivi, our      lifesaver, and she told us to get on one that says '4 esquinas'...right      after i hang up with her, one drives by us that says 4 esquinas, so we      chase it down and get on! phew, we think we're on  our      way...hahha...well, we're going the right way, but then the micro starts      going up into the cerros, and getting further and further away from the      ocean, which is where we need to go....so i was voted to go and accost teh      driver and ask what is going on...where do we get off...so i go up to him      and say, "ehhh...vivimos en unas cabanas cerca del mar..." (we      live in some cabanas by the sea...) and he cuts me off and says,      "bajen, bajen al tiro" (get off right now!) soooooooooo he      stops, there are people on the micro definitely getting a kick out of us      by now, and we're like, hmmm...what to do now?  luckily, we were      right next to a line of colectivos (pseudo-taxis...) and i go up to a      window and say the exact same thing "vivimos en unas cabanas cerca      del mar, nos puede ayudar?" and he's like, you dont know where, or      the name, or anything? and im like, ughhhhhhh no!! sooooo he tells us to      get on in, we'll find it, and im just like, holy cow it shouldnt be this      hard...after all, to get into town that morning it took &lt;i&gt;maybe &lt;/i&gt;10      minutes...so anyway, we're driving, and explaining our situation, how we'd      recognize the place if we saw it but other than that we're clueless...and      he just probably thought we were ridiculous...which was true, but whatev.      soooooooo a while later we finally arrive...but by this time its      6:30...wow. 2 hrs getting back. we're gringas, what else can we say?       Ok, moving on. that night we went to an observatory…it was absolutely      incredible. The stars actually glistened and twinkled…like they do in      cartoons where it looks all fake…well that’s how it really was, and there      were sooooooo many stars, you could see tons and tons of constellations      just filling the black sky and it was so clear…and the stars actually      TWINKLED! The next day we went to a restaurant that uses only solar energy      to cook the food. And while that fact alone is cool, it was even cooler to      see the little town that had formed up on the mountain where this and      several other solar restaurants had formed; actually, a group of about 25      women somehow got involved in the solar energy ‘world’ and ended up just      starting a business of it up on this side of a mountain where the heat of      the sun is just absolutely blazingly hot, and they really turned the town      around for the better. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This place      is now a big tourist spot, the restaurants cater to tons of tourists      groups, and it’s just really helped the poor community out…and these women      did this, a lot of them at least, without any education, which is really      cool! After that we went briefly to a pisco factory, where we got a less      than brief description on the process of making pisco, and a ‘gustacion’      period where we got to taste test a few of the flavors. Pretty cool. Our      last little excursion of the trip was on our way back to Vina the      following day, when we stopped at Parque Nacional Fray Jorge to go on a      little hike with a guide. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So      basically, we’re in the desert region (or where the desert region begins)      in Chile, so all around it’s dry and pretty arid, not many trees, etc. Well,      at Fray Jorge, we were taken into a sort of cloud forest type thing. Basically      what happens, is there’s this &lt;i style=""&gt;cordillera      &lt;/i&gt;(mt. range…) just lining a portion of the desert, and at the top of      each mountain, all of the clouds and moisture that gets blown that way      from the coast just gets caught in the cordillera by the plants and trees      that are up in the micro-ecosystem at the top of the mountains. So when      you’re at the bottom of the mountains or far away, you see this mountain      range that just has clouds hovering over the top of them all. What’s      really weird is that all of the plants/trees/etc that are found in the      cloud forest are originally found in the southern part of Chile…Patagonia,      where the weather is just completely distinct from northern chile. This      cloud forest literally has an ecosystem so far removed from what’s      surrounding it that its just crazy…it was a sight.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I know there are other things      that happened, but this just happened yesterday so it’s fresh on my mind. It      was the last day of class for my Brasil class, and the professor (who’s a      native Brasilera), brought the class some typical brasilena comida. So      anyway, this experience just sticks out in my mind because it’s just so ‘chilean’…meaning,      I don’t think/well, I &lt;i style=""&gt;know &lt;/i&gt;it      would most likely never happen in the states, or at my school at least…so      anyway, first we wait 30 minutes for everyone to show up, to then go on to      the girls’ house who had volunteered her house for us to eat at/heat up      food/etc. This girl doesn’t show up, so we start making our way downstairs      to wait for her, and then she shows up finally…so we all head out as a      class walking to go catch a micro to her place up in the cerros. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Along the way, we stop at the huge      fruit/veggie market for our professor to quickly shop for some stuff…she      buys some huge lemons, onions, and tomatoes while we all wait on a busy      street corner. When she’s done, we continue walking, get to the street,      wait for the right micro, and finally all get on and we’re on our way. It’s      a pretty long micro ride because she lives up pretty far in a cerro (don’t      remember the name), but apparently it’s a pretty shady place to live…So we      arrive, our professor starts heating up/preparing the food, and some      students go out to buy some potatoe chips and drinks at the store at the      corner so we can munch while we wait…finally at almost 5 pm our lunch is      ready (let’s keep in mind that this class originally starts at 2) so we      sit down and indulge. The meal, which according to my great professor is &lt;i style=""&gt;sin prejuicio &lt;/i&gt;because it has both      black and white, consists of black beans, white rice, cooked spinach or      other green stuff, and a salad. Once it’s all served on your plate, what      the slaves do and what most typical brasilians will do, apparently, is      just mix it all together…it was tasty…simple yet tasty. So anyway, we sit      and talk and talk and talk, until we decide it’s time to clean up, so then      we sit and talk some more while the dishes are being done, and then wayyy      later we all finally leave the girls’ house…to go get ice cream. Our professor      seemed to really want it, so we were all like, uh, sure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So we walk a lot, and finally get to      this ice cream place, we all get our ice cream, sit and eat it and talk a      lot, and then get on our way to head home….but we had to walk like 20      blocks SLOWLY to get to where one girl could catch her micro, and to where      our professor could catch her bus to Santiago, and hten to where I could      catch my micro…it was all very slow….slow and relaxed. Anyway, luckily I had      nothing else to do that day because I get home, look at my clock, and it’s      8:45 at night. Holy cow. &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Chile&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Ok not going to lie, I’m      writing this entry really late tonight and can’t remember what else I was      planning on writing about…but I just really felt obligated to post &lt;i style=""&gt;something &lt;/i&gt;because I’m leaving      tomorrow morning for 10 days until a day or two before I leave chile, and I      wanted to have a last little post so people didn’t think I completely      abandoned this blog. My apologies, once again. Anyway, tomorrow I’m going      down to Reserva Nacional Siete Tazas, which is in the 7&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; region,      farther south, and in the cordillera, further away from the coast. This reserve      nacional is famous for its beautiful waterfalls, who’s water each go into      7 ‘tazas,’ or little cups…in the earth…use your imagination, or just wait      for pictures…my description won’t do it justice. Anyway, my friend Jen and      I are going camping there till Sunday, when we’ll then head a bit more      north to a town called Pichilemu, that’s located on the coast, and is      known for its crazy big waves and surfing…big surf competitions are held      there every year. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We’ll surf and      relax and soak up being gringas for our last few days in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Chile&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; before heading back to      the states where we’re expected to know how everything works. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Classes ended well…despite the      terrible last 2 weeks of school when seriously everything and their mom      was due…professors realize they have few or no grades for us so they      decide to assign anything and everything—absolute craziness. But it’s      over.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Soooo….sorry I really bombed      the blog thing….hope for those of you who read it that you enjoyed the      little that I put out there, and if not, sorry. There’s always next      semester, right?!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;See you kids on the flip side…in      the U S of A.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-759386436685021968?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/759386436685021968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=759386436685021968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/759386436685021968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/759386436685021968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/11/2-weeks-notice.html' title='2 weeks notice'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-1682462636493275857</id><published>2007-10-25T16:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T16:50:14.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>sunscreen costs an arm and a leg down here</title><content type='html'>for realssss...i just spent a good $10 on a bottle of sunscreen. blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but on the upside, the fact that i even have to buy suscreen is great news. the weather is finally hot and sunny (most of the time), which means that the beaches are ridiculously full of people on the weekends, and even after classes. but i dont care about full beaches...i'm just happy to be able to go outside and not freeze my a$$ off...we waited long enough for this, i'm going to enjoy it as much as i can before i have to go back to the wonderfulness (rrrright) that is winter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-1682462636493275857?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1682462636493275857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=1682462636493275857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1682462636493275857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/1682462636493275857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/10/sunscreen-costs-arm-and-leg-down-here.html' title='sunscreen costs an arm and a leg down here'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-5051570271720478636</id><published>2007-10-22T16:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T17:37:03.782-06:00</updated><title type='text'>just for Aunt Sloan...!</title><content type='html'>ok, from here on out I'm going to try to update once a week...try!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so oh! i forgot to mention on the last post that i also went to a national soccer game in Santiago last week with a group of friends! It was Chile vs. Peru, and for those of you who aren't (too) familiar with the relationship between chile and peru, well, it's a tense relationship. As of late, lots and lots of Peruvians have moved into Chile looking for work, and thus stealing the jobs from chileans, making chileans suuuper bitter towards them, which only adds to the discrimination that they receive from the majority of the chilean population. Chileans, generally-speaking, think they are far superior to Peruvians in nearly every aspect, and I think this superiority complex definitely adds to the bitterness chileans have when peruvians come and take their jobs...so anyway! At the stadium, Estadio Nacional, there were more &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;carabineros&lt;/span&gt;  (police) than i have ever seen in one place at the same time...they were all lined up inside the track, lots of them with shields, some lining inside the seating area, and then the small, small part of the stadium wehre the peru fans were seated was surrounded by tons of cops and security people.  The stadium atmosphere was markedly different than a football game in the states, or at least &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;think so...well, at each 'end zone' or where the goals were, (in the curved part of the track in the stands...) the seating area is called 'la galeria' and it's known to be/ characterized by its rowdy-ness (?) and chaos and noise and fun and people setting off smoke bombs, and screaming and cursing and crazy stuff (it looks like sooo much fun to be there!) and then in the rest of the seating, called 'la tribuna' is where there are normal stadium seats, and well, it's sooo much more calm there, so much so that everyone sits down the whole time, except when we're about to score or something reallllly good or bad is about to go down.  I'm not kidding at all wehn i say people sit down; everyone yells at everyone else to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;toma asiento!&lt;/span&gt; (take your seat!), and everyone follows this model! it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rude&lt;/span&gt; to stand up! weird. maybe? also, i thought it was incredibly quiet during the game (in la tribuna where we were, not in la galeria)...i once turned around to look behind me, and everyone's eyes were just glued to the field, watching every single movement and play, afraid to miss anyting...i felt really gringa to turn around, i was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;clearly &lt;/span&gt;probably missing something on the field...but at the same time, when people did yell, man, they cursed the refs, the peru team, everything...they let their cursing fly to the wind...there was this kid two rows behind us, couldn't have been older than 10 or 11, and man, he was there yelling right along with his dad the same foul phrases and everything! To say the least, it was a pretty comical situation just putting everything together...oh, and of course, chile won. 2-0.    the cheer they would &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not stop yelling &lt;/span&gt;the whole game was: "CHI CHI CHI! LE LE LE! VIVA CHILE!" (in case you wanted to know...it's pretty catchy, no?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok...this weekend my friend Kam and I took a quick day trip up to a little city (town?) called La Ligua, about 2 hrs. north of vina.  My host family had mentioned it severallll times to me, telling me that the city is famous for its fabrics/sweaters, and its dulces...which are really just pastries.  So I figured i had to go and see this place before i leave...The city itself is really small, and when we arrived at the bus terminal, when we got off we, along with everyone else, was immediately bombarded by  los vendedores de los dulces (people who sell the dulces...they just line the streets!)...we resisted on the sweets, and just took a stroll around the town to see if it had anything else to offer us before we indulge...well, turns out this town is just like nearly every other small town and has its many kiosks in the plaza selling the typical artesania, though this town was much less tourist-oriented than the other cities ive been to...which was a relief...though it didn't help with the many stares along the way...oh well.  So anyway, we asked someone for a suggestion for where to eat lunch, and we ended up in a pretty neat, typical restaurant, nothing special...but then i got this drink. this is clearly an exaggeration but i dont care, it was so refreshing. it was called 'leche y frutilla'...milk and strawberries...um sounds simple, and it is, but this one was delish! it had this foamy top, and it was freezing cold and just delicious and its soo easy to make! I think ive just been missing smoothies that having a drink similar to one just stands out so much.  Annyway! After lunch, we headed over to the neighboring town called Valle Hermoso to check out 'los chalecos' (sweaters), because apparently that's where they were moved to, and well, it was pretty disappointing. There was this one main street, and it was just lined up and down on both sides by stores selling sweaters...and the sweaters had nothing special to them either! I was expecting alpaca wool, or something along those lines, but noooo. In the end, we walked through most of the stores, i think just wishful thinking, but by the end we ended up chillin with this vendedor de dulces de la ligua, whose name is Mauricio, and it was so much fun! At first we just asked him where to catch a micro back to La Ligua, but he was pretty helpful, and his dulces looked tempting, so we each bought one and ended up sitting there with him at this bus stop and talking to him and a few other chileans that were just sitting there for a good while! A few micros went by and each time he'd look at us questioningly, and we were just like, nahhh, let's talk.  I hate to be so presumptuous, but after we sat down with him and started talking to him, he got a lotttt more business from everyone! He kept calling us 'los prometedores de los estados unidos, directamente a los dulces de la ligua'  (as if to say we came from the US just to la ligua for the dulces...hah)....he even used me as a pseudo bag-woman to help him bag the dulces...haha...So we had a pretty good conversation, he kept cracking jokes with us and everyone else on the street and it was a ton of fun...then we returned to la ligua to go to this cafe artesenal that makes dulces de la ligua, and of course they were twice as expensive, but oh.my.gosh. they were like 10000 times better, so it was sooo worht those extra 25 cents of difference! haha  no seriously, we tried the BEST alfajor i've ever tried. ever. and just everything was suuuuper rico there!  So anywya, after that, i went to a street seller and bought some for my family (my mom had given me was is equivalent to $5 and told me to buy what i can...i walked away with 25 dulces...not bad...though i looked suuuper touristy...what's new?)     That was pretty much it...a calm day, but out of vina and with a new atmosphere, and  we spoke spanish like the whooole day...which we definitely didnt have to, so that was reallly good and beneficial i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WEll, that's it for now. Off to tomar once con la familia...hasta pronto!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-5051570271720478636?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5051570271720478636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=5051570271720478636' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/5051570271720478636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/5051570271720478636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-for-aunt-sloan.html' title='just for Aunt Sloan...!'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8267905589493555559.post-7546753022237221185</id><published>2007-10-19T15:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T16:11:20.121-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 meses mas?</title><content type='html'>wow. i apologize for being absolutely terrible at updating this thing.  a quick recap on my last few weeks here in chile:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;a couple of weeks ago, Jen and I decided to rent bikes and ride up to a city called Horcon, north of vina...well, first we had to get out of vina, but it was a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bit &lt;/span&gt;complicated because on the north end of vina there was some construction, so riding the sidewalk wasnt really an option for a portion of the way...luckily, there was an older guy riding a bike in front of us right before the construction part, so we just decided, what the heck? let's follow this guy, he seems like he knows what he's doing! hahaha.  welll, that decision, which i probably never would have done in the states, led us to riding our bikes through vina traffic, right along side teh cars, dodging oncoming traffic, and eventually leading us to safety...omg it was crazy...jen and i were yelling at eachother in the traffic, trying ot contain our...surprise/shock/amazement about what were doing...it was crazy.  ok, but anyway, the ride turned out to be wayyy more north than we originally thought, but we only decided to turn around after riding a good 3 hours north, and still not reaching the town...hahah...Jen is a triathlete, aka, she can bike/go up hills/not die...I, on the other hand, was...struggling. There were a few pretty good hills, but i guess to make up for those hills, i had some great views: the view up and down the coast, some hills/mts. in the distance, etc. So anyway, after deciding to turn around, we biked back to Con Con, got some empanadas really fast, and took our time coming back to vina/valpo to return the bikes...we rented the bikes out at 10 that morning, and returned them at 4 that afternoon...needless to say, my legs were dead!  oh! and how could i forget? I got in a head-on collision! on my bike, of course....we were on a sidewalk (a pretty narrow one..) along the highway in between vina and valpo, i was in front, and coming toward us were two guys on bikes...so i get over to the right side of the sidewalk, which i thought was normal...but the guy coming our way decided to go the same way as me...sooooo we ended up just crashing head-on...it was pretty hysterical...jen and i just could &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;stop laughing...i think the guy was just soo embarrassed, he said nothing and biked off...hahah...no injuries, but soo soo funny!&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;the next day we ran in a "5k" in vina...adidas is doing a running tour through all of Chile, and they had a 5k here in vina, it was free, near our houses, so we were like, why not? well anyway, this "5k" turned out to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maybe &lt;/span&gt;2 miles...i really don't know what it is here in Chile with races, but everyone ive done so far (ok, only 3, but still!) is either so blatantly short, or too long.  But after the race, one guy was saying that they just call it a 5k for marketing purposes...ok, that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kind of&lt;/span&gt; makes sense, but whats so hard about naming it for the distance it really is, or just making it a real 5k race?!  Nonetheless, it was fun. It's really funny here: there are lots of free races (maybe thats why i shouldnt count on them being the real distance...?) but before everyrace when everyone gathers together near the start, there's a stage with people leading aerobic exercises (like jazzercize, i suppose), yoga/stretching sessions, and just major 'pump up' stuff going on. it's really funny to watch/be a spectator at that sort of thing, especially because i think if something like that were to happen in the states before a race, not a whole lot of people would take part in it, or be embarrassed to be jumping around doing crazy things like that...! but here, everyone does it!&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;i read a whole novel (300 pages, in spanish por supuesto) in 24 hrs for a test the next day. i really really thought i would either a)never finish it on time, or b) just not start it in the first place, and see what happens...oh but no, i did it. in retrospect, it's just so funny...i just had this inclination that the chileans in my class wouldnt do it, and figured it wouldnt be a problem if i didnt do it either, but man, i did it...and it was actually a good book! but, when i got to class the next day, only me and the two other gringos in my class, and two chileans had actually read the novel. and what did the other studnets do when she passed out teh test to us? oh, they left. yep, that's right. they said they had 'other stuff' to do, and that's why they couldnt finish it, but um, hello? and i dont? gee, getting some sleep that night would've been nice...oh well, we took the test, and we most definitely got some major brownie points from our prof. yesss!&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;i traveled to Santiago to the Spanish consulate to get my passport notarized for my spanish visa...I really had no idea where the consulate was, aside from teh address, but i asked Pam y Vivi (the most amazing program coordinators) if i should call to ask for directions, or if they knew where it was, but they jsut took over for me. Pam called the consulate right away, asked them what metro station to get off at, and then printed out some maps for me to see how to get there! I didn't even ask for that much, muchless expect that! Anyway, it was reallllly easy. the consulate turned out to be just a few blocks away from the metro station, and i just had to drop off my papers and passport, and that's it! Jess came with me (she insisted i not travel alone), so when i was done with what i had to do after a quick 15 minutes, we were like, ughhh what do we do now? So we ended up walking around for about an hour, before deciding that santiago is just so big, and you'd have to have an idea of what you wanted to do there/know where to go, in order to do something worth your while, so we went to a restaurant real quick before heading back to vina...Then, the next week i went back to pick up my paperwork from the consulate, and mail it off...it felt great to be able to navigate my way through these transactions alone in chile! yes!&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;last weekend, Christan, Jen and I went hiking/camping in El Parque Nacional La Campana, between vina and santiago, because we had monday off school for some religious holiday...we left friday afternoon, stayed in a hostel in Olmue on friday night after going grocery shopping for the next couple of days....So early Saturday we arrived at the park, talked to the guy at the entrance who told us about some waterfalls at the other side of the park, so we decided that was our goal for the weekend--to hike over to them before we leave monday morning...So Saturday was really just a day full of uphill climbing with our heavy backpacks on, full of food and water...mann...its almost a week later and i still feel it in my legs/butt! turns out the trail wasn't clearly marked, so we ended up taking a wrong turn at the top of the mountain, making us go in the wrong direction for the waterfalls, so we ended up somewhere totally different, thus making it impossible for us to be able tos ee the waterfalls, but oh well. So we got to the campsite that night, and well, i think i just attract boy scouts. even in foreign countries. there were &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;TONS&lt;/span&gt; of boys running around, well into the night, all around the campsite...the boyscouts here have chants that they kept shouting nonstop all weekend, and it was pretty interesting because, well, as far as i know, when the boyscouts/really when anyone goes camping in the staes, you get up with teh sun, or relatively early, right? or am i mistaken? well, we were heading out for our hike the second day around 12 after having an easy morning, and the boys were just then getting up and ready...and then at night they were up till like 12-1ish...is that weird or is it just me? ok whatever. the weekend was fun. the three of us ended up camping in a 2-PERSON TENT. biggest. mistake. ever.  the first night, i was lucky enough to be in the middle, which basically means, lay on the hard ground (we didnt have sleeping pads), and dont move. dont move at all. even if youre uncomf, cold, hot, in pain, or need to go the bathroom. it was super painful. i slept a good 1.5 hrs that night.  the next night i was on the outside, whihc is equally painful, but with more space to move my head...that was good.  :)  all in all, it was a good weekend. really relaxing and fun!&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt; ok, i know there's more, but those stand out in my memory right now...and oh my gosh! less than two months left here! how crazy...time has just absolutely flown by down here...maybe because i'm in the other hemisphere?!  JUST KIDDING.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuidense!&lt;br /&gt;-amor-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8267905589493555559-7546753022237221185?l=caitlinbuck.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7546753022237221185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8267905589493555559&amp;postID=7546753022237221185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/7546753022237221185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8267905589493555559/posts/default/7546753022237221185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlinbuck.blogspot.com/2007/10/2-meses-mas.html' title='2 meses mas?'/><author><name>Caitlin Buck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13354539955579967742</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05597786065543825521'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>