The Vacation is Totally Over - Part II (title added after original publication date)
If I can ever figure out how to put titles on these things, I think this would have to be "The Vacation is Totally Over - Part II." My stomach has been feeling kind of strange, and I've been feeling really fatigued, but I just thought it was from the new foods and the cold and too much running around. This morning, I finally decided that I probably had gotten some sort of parasite in Turkey. Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have been lulled into a false sense of security by how pretty and clean the salad was at that tourist buffet. I have suspected this for a couple of days now, but this morning I was sure. I called my friend Jerry, the font of all Spanish knowledge, and he recommended that I go to the pharmacy rather than spend the money on an expensive private doctor here. The pharmacists here have much more authority to prescribe things without a doctor's approval. I remember this same type of system in Costa Rica. You would not believe the stuff they sell essentially over the counter.
So, I went in and said that I had diarrhea (same name in Spanish, different pronounciation that I can never get right... deeearrayuh) and that my stomach hurt and was being noisy. I then did a quick imitation of the noises that it made, since I didn't know the word for gurgle. The woman at the counter smiled, walked to the back for a second and returned with a box of pills that I need to take three times daily before meals until gone. Being the untrusting freak that I am, I immediately went back to my hostel and looked up the name of the pills online. I found more info that sounded like they probably cover just about anything. It seemed like I was feeling much better a few hours after the first dose, so I'm living in hope that I will soon be back to normal.
The illness has made apartment hunting and pretty much everything seem so insurmountably difficult. I have actually been doing pretty well in spite of everything. I interviewed for 2 apartments yesterday. One place they pretty much offered it to me, but it was expensive (380 EU/month) and really tacky, dingy and gross. The other was pretty nice, good location and cheap (280 EU/month), but the two girls said that they had received a flood of calls and visits. I also don't think I made a very good impression since I didn't feel well and every couple of minutes, I'd get totally stuck on a word and make and ass of myself. It is very difficult for my personality to come through in Spanish. I try to be witty, but it just comes out confused.
Finally, today, I interviewed for another place, and my Spanish seemed to finally be kicking in. I really think that I'll be pretty smooth with it after a month or so. I hope I hope I hope that I can hang out and converse with Spaniards. I know for a fact that one of the reasons I didn't speak better Spanish at the end of my six months in Costa Rica is because I spent much of my time with Americans speaking English.
Last night I broke the no American rule and went out with a group of American girls who are students at a language academy in Madrid. One was from Nebraska and knows my other friend here. We had a really good time drinking, eating, drinking, talking. They gave me great information on the English teaching scene, Spanish culture, and the differences for which I should be prepared. I got the supposed low down on Spanish men from them. I guess that the straight guys are bisexual and the bisexual guys are gay. So the gays must be REALLY gay, I would deduce. I have a theory that the closer a country is to the equator, and the warmer the climate, the hornier the population and the more sexual their forms of expression. This was certainly the case in Costa Rica. And, if Spain is anything like that, I have a feeling it's going to be a crazy summer in Madrid. It gets as hot as an oven and the people are packed in the streets and the subways and the bars and the restaurants. They certainly don't have any problem touching each other in passing. My personal space zone is pretty much in a constant state of violation. I've really been trying to just be tranquilo about it and understand that there are going to be cultural differences that will seem strange to me.
The one thing that seems to be a common resentment for Americans and keeps coming up in conversation is how cold and uncourteous that Spaniards are in comparison to Americans. It is just a cultural difference, but very difficult not to take it personally when someone runs you off the street into traffic or cuts in front of you at the corner store buying groceries. I am beginning to see them as total brutes. Especially the older ladies. I swear, when they're barreling at you down a narrow street, you can see the smoke coming out of their nose and you can be sure that they're not going to give an inch, so you just better move. If it wasn't so ingrained in me to be kind to women and especially to women who are my elders, I would be tempted to play a little game of chicken. Instead, I just become passive/aggressive and stop in the middle of the street and make them go around me. Maybe some day I'll speak Spanish well enough to get one of the older women's perspective on the whole thing. Oh, I am so American...
If I can ever figure out how to put titles on these things, I think this would have to be "The Vacation is Totally Over - Part II." My stomach has been feeling kind of strange, and I've been feeling really fatigued, but I just thought it was from the new foods and the cold and too much running around. This morning, I finally decided that I probably had gotten some sort of parasite in Turkey. Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have been lulled into a false sense of security by how pretty and clean the salad was at that tourist buffet. I have suspected this for a couple of days now, but this morning I was sure. I called my friend Jerry, the font of all Spanish knowledge, and he recommended that I go to the pharmacy rather than spend the money on an expensive private doctor here. The pharmacists here have much more authority to prescribe things without a doctor's approval. I remember this same type of system in Costa Rica. You would not believe the stuff they sell essentially over the counter.
So, I went in and said that I had diarrhea (same name in Spanish, different pronounciation that I can never get right... deeearrayuh) and that my stomach hurt and was being noisy. I then did a quick imitation of the noises that it made, since I didn't know the word for gurgle. The woman at the counter smiled, walked to the back for a second and returned with a box of pills that I need to take three times daily before meals until gone. Being the untrusting freak that I am, I immediately went back to my hostel and looked up the name of the pills online. I found more info that sounded like they probably cover just about anything. It seemed like I was feeling much better a few hours after the first dose, so I'm living in hope that I will soon be back to normal.
The illness has made apartment hunting and pretty much everything seem so insurmountably difficult. I have actually been doing pretty well in spite of everything. I interviewed for 2 apartments yesterday. One place they pretty much offered it to me, but it was expensive (380 EU/month) and really tacky, dingy and gross. The other was pretty nice, good location and cheap (280 EU/month), but the two girls said that they had received a flood of calls and visits. I also don't think I made a very good impression since I didn't feel well and every couple of minutes, I'd get totally stuck on a word and make and ass of myself. It is very difficult for my personality to come through in Spanish. I try to be witty, but it just comes out confused.
Finally, today, I interviewed for another place, and my Spanish seemed to finally be kicking in. I really think that I'll be pretty smooth with it after a month or so. I hope I hope I hope that I can hang out and converse with Spaniards. I know for a fact that one of the reasons I didn't speak better Spanish at the end of my six months in Costa Rica is because I spent much of my time with Americans speaking English.
Last night I broke the no American rule and went out with a group of American girls who are students at a language academy in Madrid. One was from Nebraska and knows my other friend here. We had a really good time drinking, eating, drinking, talking. They gave me great information on the English teaching scene, Spanish culture, and the differences for which I should be prepared. I got the supposed low down on Spanish men from them. I guess that the straight guys are bisexual and the bisexual guys are gay. So the gays must be REALLY gay, I would deduce. I have a theory that the closer a country is to the equator, and the warmer the climate, the hornier the population and the more sexual their forms of expression. This was certainly the case in Costa Rica. And, if Spain is anything like that, I have a feeling it's going to be a crazy summer in Madrid. It gets as hot as an oven and the people are packed in the streets and the subways and the bars and the restaurants. They certainly don't have any problem touching each other in passing. My personal space zone is pretty much in a constant state of violation. I've really been trying to just be tranquilo about it and understand that there are going to be cultural differences that will seem strange to me.
The one thing that seems to be a common resentment for Americans and keeps coming up in conversation is how cold and uncourteous that Spaniards are in comparison to Americans. It is just a cultural difference, but very difficult not to take it personally when someone runs you off the street into traffic or cuts in front of you at the corner store buying groceries. I am beginning to see them as total brutes. Especially the older ladies. I swear, when they're barreling at you down a narrow street, you can see the smoke coming out of their nose and you can be sure that they're not going to give an inch, so you just better move. If it wasn't so ingrained in me to be kind to women and especially to women who are my elders, I would be tempted to play a little game of chicken. Instead, I just become passive/aggressive and stop in the middle of the street and make them go around me. Maybe some day I'll speak Spanish well enough to get one of the older women's perspective on the whole thing. Oh, I am so American...
posted by Chromest*r at 11:57 PM
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