Cool

This is what it looks like when you mistake 

your hand for bread, kids (smiley face included)

Backwards

So, you would think that typing in SPANISH, on a SPANISH keyboard, would be easier, right?

WRONG.

What the heck were they thinking? Honestly? The ??? key is VITAL and its the hardest one to get to! and this >> ç << what IS that?! I've never even SEEN that letter?! Seriously.

GET YOUR aHhHh TOGETHER, SPAIN.

Remember that little post I made with the Marroquineria picture (if not, see "Tribute to Madrid")? Let me start out by explaining that this is the main reason I chose San Sebastian; the connection between my last name, and the Basque Region. If you don't know anything about the Basque Region, basically their some strange alien species with different DNA and blood type with a language that has no origin with a LOT of pride and who hate the Spanish AND the French ('call me anything but Basque and i'll DEVOUR you' kind of attitude) because they want to be their own country (they've even gone so far as to create a terrorist group: ETA). If you want to know more, look it up. So last saturday, I went on a little excursion to my hertigical (derived from heritage...?) territory in the Basque (Vasco<Spanish, Euskera<Basque... just to give you an idea of how they like to complicate things here) Region, accompanied by, none other, than a long lost primo. ("cousin", whom I really have no blood relations with) Iñigo Marroquin. He showed me an old tower that belonged to us, as well as several other places that connected us to this lovely country. After, he showed me his home town, Vitoria, treated me to an AMAZING 5 star traditional basque dinner, and then sent me home. It was an experience I'll never forget.

Sometimes

Some days, I feel like this....

(so I tried not to make this a 'Funny Fail Pictures Blog".... but there were just so many)

Sometimes, this is how I feel. Like when I just championed a conversation with a local. 

I bought this to remind myself of that feeling.

So that I don't, too often, revert back to this:

Yes

Spanish vending machine. Yes, it's real. I hardly think more explanation is necessary. Just Laugh.

Another Tribute to Madrid

This is for the sole fact that I still have a crapload of amazing pictures (and videos) from Madrid. I needed to share them for the sake of my sanity. Not really... but all the same. And yes, the picture on the left IS a picture of a storefront with my last name posted on it. Pretty wicked, righ'? Yeah, I thought so. Let me explain why: my name hails from the spanish word for Morocco, "Marruecos" (thank you google translate) because a Basque knight took a very long trip there and came back with the nickname, "El Marroquin". Eventually it stuck and became a last name. Marroquinerias are shops where you can buy various items made out of moroccan leather. Yeah. Awesome. :)

Never Ever Ever

Never ever ever ever eat at an old fashioned "American Diner" ANYWHERE other than AMERICA, no matter HOW legit it looks.

Bilbao

So, my friend Eka and I decided to go to Bilbao this weekend and visit some friends I had made over the Madrid tour. Bilbao was not nearly as beautiful as San Sebastian nor are it's beaches as wonderful, but I will say that this city knows how to have a good time. During our stay, we also took a trek though hobbit territory trying to find the beach, ate amazing frosties, and saw a very odd photo exhibit of old people dressed oddly 

with serious faces. It was a grand time 

There was no shortage of exciting clubs and bars and club-bars... They went so far as to turn the Gugenheim into a club. Yes, I can officially say I saw a moshpit and crowdsurfing in the Gugenheim museum... Yes, the world famous Frank Ghery modern art one. Not only was it poppin, you could explore all levels of the museum to appreciate the art and intricacy of the architecture while music (which included everything from Kesha to Nirvana) resounded throughout the entire edifice.

Nutella, much?

Oh, you know, this is only the second gigantic jar of Nutella I've destroyed over an impressive period of 3 weeks.

Nights in SanSeb

So these last couple of weeks have been a blast, and besides the occasional funny story I haven't really been posting what I have been up to. Here is a small dose of my life here: amazing gluten free food, nights out on the town with new and awesome friends, my first pinxo experience, stores with oddities, too much walking, not enough studying, and the beach. Life is good here, even when its bad.

Crappy phone, where have you been all my life?

So, I finally got a phone today. Hooray, right? I think it is quite wonderful, with its crappy plastic flip cover and 70's ringtone. Hey, it was only 8 euros. In the world of shmellyphones, I believe its quite the catch. The lame: I now have to carry two phones, this, and my iphone (which acts as a camera). What is hilarious is that EVERYONE from USAC has the same exact blue cellphone, with the same exact ringtone, and when there are 10 people in a room and one cellphone goes off, you can see everyone checking their blue gem. An experience which, I believe, is definitely worth 8 euros and a little less purse room.

If you wanna call/text me, my number is 674720661. If you are in the U.S. , you need to put 011 (to get out of the U.S.) and 34 (to get into Spain) in front of that. The whole number would be 01134674720661. For the most part though, I'd like to stick to skype/texting since I still have to pay for minutes.

A Day With Mi Familia

Sooo today I went on a little family outing with Amaia, Lila, her 2 friends, Amaia's mom and another student, Kerry. We walked to a bar "not too far" (*scoff*) for a morning coffee. It had been raining all weekend so we took a small risk leaving the house but hey, when in Spain, right? So we're ready to leave and we've got a 2 year old in a stroller, a bratty 4 year old, adorable Lila and us adults... And it is POURING... But hey, what's a little wind and rain, right?

Gameplan: I hold umbrella, Kerry takes stroller, Amaia takes Lila and Grandma takes Brat. BREAK. Needless to say that was the last time I go outside today.

ANYWAYS. So of course only the old people are worn out after we get back and the girls decide it's a great idea to do face painting! Well, the littlest bugger wanted to do the actual painting...

'Nuff Said...

Officially AWESOME

So today I decided to be an idiot and leave my apartment keys in the apartment with the automatic locking door the day my homestay tells me she's gone all day without a phone (yes, it was predetermined). Little did I know that underneath this sweet and innocent exterior is a true BADASS (sorry mom, there's just no other word... blame society). Yeah, that's right, I broke in through THREE doors to reach the comfort of my home... with a CARD. Needless to say my new mom wasn't as thrilled with this bit of information as I was... but STILL.

¿What&apos;s so strange about a stranger?

Setting// Group of friends bar hopping in la parte vieja.

Script// Jordan: "Where is Eka?"
Alexa: "Did she just take a bite out of that guy's sandwich?"
Me: "Eka who is that?"
Eka: *Shrugs* I dunno... I was hungry and his sandwich looked good.
Want a bite?" (...It did look good)
Me: *Looks at Alexa* "I'll do it if you'll do it."
Alexa: *Shrugs* "...Okay"

Very mature...

Today in class, we were discussing how this carving represented fertility and he asked us what the horn symbolized. I, of course, was the only one who laughed out loud. What can I say? It's even funnier in Spanish. I am the epiphany of maturity.

Laundry Time...

Can you tell i'm new at this? Honestly... Wtf?

Jk I think I figured it out... learn something new every day :)

UPDATE: Apparently not... I was still wrong. Do not follow my example... this can and will lead to moldy smelling socks. I repeat, do not follow my example.

Hello San Sebastian

So I am finally here, sitting in my new home with my new temporary family: Amaia, a sweet little spanish mom, and her 4 year old daughter, Lila (who, luckily, likes to teach me words in spanish). Living the good life, I suppose :) BTW, for whoever wants to send me sweet love letters, support me with wonderful care packages, or suck up to me for gifts from spain, send everything to:

USAC: Erica Marroquin

Edificio Ignacio Ma Barriola

Universidad del País Vasco/ EHU

Plaza Elhuyar, 1

20018 San Sebastián, Spain

*Regardless of what you send, do not note its worth over $25 or I will be charged, and never say it is new.

Madrid

        I am shocked at how many compliments I have gotten on my spanish. Granted, most of them were from slightly intoxicated people at bars... but still. I have also tested the myth that alcohol makes one more fluent, and I am here to confirm its truth! One does, in fact, speak better spanish when intoxicated. I have made many new friends since I arrived here who are in the same program, although many of them are headed to different cities at the end of this Madrid tour (que triste!).
        We visited the old palace today. It was AWESOME. Lets just say I plan on banking by the time I'm thirty and I'm gonna live in one just like it.
        The city of madrid is full of weirdos and entertainers, and the streets are never quiet. I have fallen in love with a certain style of pantalones (not very different from those of Aladdin... although here they are much more colorful), and I plan on buying some immediately. The food is very plain, as I was warned. They call omelets "tortillas" here and put them on bread and call that a sandwich. What a joke.

On My Way!

So I am on the plane to Spain now... and I am surprisingly NOT excited. I already miss everyone so much.. including my puppy Sinko (will you please forgive me for forgetting to say goodbye?). It was disheartening leaving everyone behind and I have no idea what to expect. My biggest emotion right now is fear. I am afraid that when I arrive, I'm in for a big dose of culture shock. I am a social person, and I believe the biggest problem I'll have is losing the ability to socialize because of the language barrier. I won't be able to hide behind words or jokes or sarcasm anymore... que malo! Oh well, time to finally open that sketch book and start practicing again, huh?

UPDATE:
For Son; As you predicted, I sat next to a british guy with an accent. We drank tea and ate cheese and biscuits together as we discussed books, television shows, and movies. He even asked to hear my own british accent which I assured him I had a lot of practice on at home. Afterwards, he complimented me saying it was magnificent! We parted only after he said it was charming to meet me. Oh, the British :)

UPDATE:
Don't ever try to make conversation in airports with foreign men who have lots of strange, archeological looking baggage. They are very disgruntled and will most likely go off on you about how they're doing the same thing you are... also note that they don't like the british.

UPDATE:
I have finally arrived at my hotel. OHHHHH BOOYYYY was that rough. Let me tell you about it:
1. My checked bag never showed up.
2. Everything was in spanish and I had NO idea where to go about my predicament.
3. When I finally found the place, it took me and hour to get through the line. When it was finally my turn, they said they were closing and quickly told me in spanish (which I could not comprehend in all my distress) how to get to their other helpdesk.
4. I found a helpdesk (although not THE helpdesk), and after I explained to them what happened, they promptly gave me a flimsy document that had my name, my description of the bag (which consisted of pointing to a picture and saying "este"), my hotel address, a tracking number and a phone number.  Then they sent me on my way with a smile on their faces. I'm most definitely very hopeful they will find it. NOT. Whatever... I'm over it.
5. I leave the airport through the metro, slowly following the directions given to me on a piece of paper. I ask the man sitting across from me if I am on the right metro for the stop I need and he agrees. While waiting for my stop, I am asked by a creepy guy in spanish if he can sit next to me. I say sure, and discreetly pull all of my belongings closer to me on the opposite side. I am now thoroughly trapped between him and the wall. He proceeds to make conversation with me, but every time he stops talking, I see his reflection in the opposite window staring unabashedly at my bags. Oh, and let me not forget the fact that HIS HANDS WERE FREAKING TWITCHING. This went on for about 10 minutes. Needless to say, I was officially FREAKING OUT at that point. My nerves were about to burst, and every time the metro stopped and the doors opened, I would grab tight to my bags and brace myself. After the first 2 stops, I was as twitchy as him, and every time he lurched towards my bags my whole body would flinch. I actually believe that is what saved me. I was too on edge for him and my flinching probably made him second guess himself. Anyways, at some point I look up and see the man I had asked for directions earlier gave me a warning glance. My reply was a frightened, deer in headlights nod. I was so concentrated on not getting robbed that I nearly missed my stop, and the man in front of me stood up, grabbed my hand and said lets go, swiftly towing my luggage behind him. MY SAVIOR. So we're walking right, and he proceeds to tell me that that was a bad man, all the while holding tightly to my luggage. At this point, I realize how tight his hold is on my bag and I'm trying to take it from him... politely. After a few minutes of walking and talking, my brain is going, "WHAT THE HELL?! Am I about to get robbed by the guy who I thought was HELPING me?!" But alas, when he was finished walking me out, he handed them back with a nod to my thanks and returned to the metro (as he had gotten off before his stop). Thank God for good people. Needless to say, I had to sit down for a minute to let my body register the fact that I was safe again and there was no longer a need for the shaking or hyperventilation. After that, I made it safely to my hotel and here I am, about to take my first siesta in Spain. Adios, America.