I was absolutely miserable until the day Rihanna met Obama.

I'm having some technical difficulties with the text color...Lo siento. (I'm sorry.)

Whenever I have the option of starting with good or bad news, I always opt to get the negative stuff out of the way. So here goes.

I might just hate school.

I was a bit anxious about my first day of school, simply because I had to meet very specific requirements in order to transfer all of my credits and graduate from my home university on time. When I arrived at Universidad Complutense, the first matter of business was to successfully pass a placement exam. After a one-hour commute, a 20 minute cross-campus hike, and a program orientation that was barely comprehensible-I failed the test. Well- I shouldn’t say that. I placed into the intermediate level which is two levels below the advanced class that I need. I was equally frustrated by the 3 hour placement exam that included an oral, aural, written, and reading comprehension section. Unlike the 50-question multiple choice practice test, this exam incited the same crippling fear that I felt the day I sat for the LSAT. Let’s just say I was not a happy camper. All is not lost, the University will allow me to change classes once I sit for another exam and beg with a docile, but insistent tone. The Spaniards I’ve encountered to date do not seem to have an urgency about anything. Most activities move at a slower pace and are simply “not that serious”. I suppose that could be good for my health. It’s also a nice respite from my “Overanalytical Type-A gone mad” complex. BUT, it’s not good when I’m trying to maintain enrollment and communication between two universities without losing my cool. My personal dilemmas aren’t phasing the faculty at the Complutense. And so, I wait…

Trouble’s a brewing on the homefront.

After such drama at school, I’d love to be able to come home to the comforts of family, relaxation, and a general sense of peace. Mmmm…that’s just not the case right now. As you will see from the facebook picture link, there’s barely enough space to turn around in my bedroom. And, to make matters worse, I share the space with my total antithesis. I kid you not…I’ll keep it classy and tactful, but just know that we’ve been around the world and back regarding communication differences, cultural stereotypes, and things that are just NOT okay. Today we were on the brink of finding another living arrangement, but I’ve (prayerfully) committed to focusing on the positive aspects of this situation because if I didn’t…well…she’d never make it.

Things are touch and go with my hostmom Maribel. Practically everyday, she manages to give us terrible direction to bus stops that don’t exist. Friday I was AN HOUR late for a class that only lasts an hour and twenty minutes. After being lost in the icy rain I walked in to the chiding of my teacher (en espanol) “Class is ending now-not beginning.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the insanity of it all, especially since I get daily explanations about how easy things would be if I would just use my head. I hate to sound cranky. Do you know the adage that basically says “good food always fixes things”? Perhaps this blog would have a different tone if I had the physical strength-i.e. nourishment to perk up. Lately my daily diet has consisted of 7 mandarin oranges, a cashew granola bar (that I brought from home), french fries and some random meat for dinner. The food could be MUCH worse. (One girl’s host mom barely feeds her anything) However, my praise of Maribel’s cooking disappeared when I visited the local gas station and saw most of my meals in cans, boxes, and shrink wrap on the shelves. Again, there are two sides to this story. Maribel does make some things that are healthy and desirable i.e. noodles, green beans, and the occasional chicken strips. But, for the most part I’m surviving on mandarin oranges, vitamins, and French fries. Pray my strength in the Lord.

Let me add a tiny note for my mom and any other moms who may be reading this…LOL. I’m not STARVING. I’m somewhat of a picky eater, but I will be fine. It’s possible to adjust to the different cuisine-I’m clearly trying to convince myself (and you) that this too shall pass.

There's Hope in Toledo...

On Saturday (1/12/08) I took a day trip with ISA (International Studies Abroad) to the neighboring town of Toledo. It was a nice break from the not-so-pleasant week. I’ll let the pictures do the talking (lol). But- in a nutshell, we went on a guided tour of churches, mosques, and random old buildings. It was quaint and historical. After the tour I took advantage of the rebajas (the season of sales in Spain) and found some great deals. If you know me, you can only imagine how much that brightened my day!! It was almost tainted when a stranger asked me to take walk down some ally-but I dodged that probable kidnapping. After returning to Madrid my roommate and I shopped a bit more at Centro Commercial (a huge mall/practical shopping center that’s about five minutes from my house). After dinner with Maribel, I took a much needed nap to prepare myself for what would become a VERY crazy night.

Once you pop, you just can’t stop!

The nightlife in Madrid is famous, or infamous if you will. From go-go girls to endless pubs and discotecas-they have it ALL. On Saturday I decided to go out with a few girls from my program. My objective: To be fly and dance the night away in a posh club. Their objective: To get absolutely plastered, wasted, drunk and ridiculous.

Our first stop was a decent bar/restaurant where the pre-gaming began. ( “pre-game”:def; verb to indulge in several inexpensive but potent drinks before arriving at the final party destination) I was satisfied with green olives, chorizo sausage, and bread until…we went to the next bar. I’m not into bar-hopping in the states, so I didn’t have much appreciation for being smushed in smoky room-talking and waiting for people to get buzzed and then wasted. My new yellow jacket was turning a shade of filthy. My makeup was melting off. And I just felt generally disgusting. Thankfully, we met this stranger named Adrian on the street and he put us on his VIP list to enter a very famous club called “Joy Eslava” for free. That was the redemption of my night. If you could imagine a scene from boogie nights or some other famous disco movie, it was all of that and more. From the GIGANTIC disco ball to the occasional spray of confetti from the ceiling-it was amazing. I met people from all over the world, danced until I could virtually wring out my shirt, and forgot about my recent “Madrid Mishaps”. The highlight of my night happened when the D.J. played Rihanna’s hit “Umbrella”. Frankly, I don’t really care for the song. But, I was curious to see a group of guys going BALLISTIC when the song came on…even though they weren’t singing the correct lyrics. So, I shimmied over and asked what they were saying. Instead of saying “When the sun shines we’ shine together, Know that I’ll be here forever, You can stand under my umbrella….” They were saying, “We can stand under Barack Obama, Bama Bama Ay Ay Ay…” I was SHOCKED! Political affiliation aside, here were these guys from Paris-attending French business school in MADRID singing the praises of Barack Obama to the tune of Rihanna!! I laughed and laughed at the irony of it all-but in that moment I realized something. Even though I’ve had a rough week, there are still so many unique, special, and irreplaceable moments in my future here. I’ll never forget those guys (although I followed my #1 rule for going out while abroad-what happens in the streets stays there. I’ll never talk to these strangers again. No switching numbers or meeting again…none of that.lol) But seriously, the bad news doesn’t outweigh the good times. No matter how small, brief, or ironic they may have been-the good times reminded me that I really can say, “It’s all good.”

Always,

Rhonda

P.S. Finally, here’s the picture link to my first week here. Enjoy.

http://ualr.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024532&l=6ad32&id=120500037