I've been in Hungary less than a week and the differences between it and Spain are already palpable in my daily routine. Despite the fact that I was already familiar with Spanish culture when I moved to Granada last year, I can't help but feel more at home, culturally speaking, here in Budapest.
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Well, the life of leisure is officially over! Classes have begun and now I am getting into the full swing of things in this next phase of my life as a graduate school in Europe. In terms of pragmatics, there are
22 people total in my program (all female, surprise surprise!). Of those 22, 18 are first year students like me and the other 4 are in their second year, doing their mobility year here at UGR. The master's program is broken down by semester: first semester is obligatory courses in feminist history, theory and methodology; second semester is electives at your home institution; third semester is electives at your mobility institution; and fourth is working on your master's thesis. So, that means that all 18 of us have all our classes together this first semester. However, in addition to our compulsory classes, us first years have been invited to take additional courses with the second years since there are so few of them. In classic Nora over-achieving manner, I am intending to take two extra courses (ideally taking one as an audit, don't worry). All the classes are in Spanish and most of my cohort peers are native Spanish speakers, except for myself, a student from Canada (who is a native French speaker as she is from Quebec), and a student from Scotland. In terms of schedule, there doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to when I have class. It's not as a simple as having class at a certain time on a certain day -- it really truly is random. Most weeks I have class every afternoon Monday - Thursday, but there are also stretches of days at a time where I have no classes at all. To add to the exoticness of this schedule, each class is four hours long and even coming from someone who LOVES listening to lectures on feminist theory that is a LONG time to be engaged, especially when the theory is in Spanish. Yikes. I came into this program claiming that it was my "dream program" and if it is at all possible I think that even my wildly optimistic expectations have been exceeded! And yes, I fully recognize and admit that this program is going to be a challenge, as it is bound to be in any situation when you aren't a native speaker. However, I have no doubt that the experience of this program is going to vale la pena. During our orientation yesterday morning, the room was electric with excitement-- everyone from the students to the faculty to the staff members was genuinely so excited to be there. Smiles were practically contagious. And if you juxtapose this entry to the last one, you'll see how much I NEEDED to feel that energy, to be reinvigorated by the passion of my peers. I am now joining a network of people from around the world who share my drive, my passion, and are excited to see where this new adventure takes them. And I could not be more thrilled (but I'm not going to lie-- I have never been so mentally drained in my entire life as I was after that first four hour course on feminist theory). Now for all of you who think that this whole international masters program thing is sounding intriguing, might I recommend checking out the full list of ERASMUS MUNDUS masters programs: http://eacea.ec.europa.eu/erasmus_mundus/results_compendia/selected_projects_action_1_master_courses_en.php There is quite a variety in the programs available and not to brag but it can be a pretty sweet situation. Just an idea ;) *Addendum: YES, the classes are difficult. YES, I feel like I am missing information because I am not a native speaker. YES, it takes me an extra long time to do homework (for example, I spent 5 hours reading this morning to prepare for my second day of class). YES, it is frustrating but it can only get better with more and more practice. There is a silver lining to every crappy situation. For example, everything with the residency process has been a NIGHTMARE here. On two separate occasions I have gone to the Office of Foreigners, stood in line for 45 minutes only to be told that I could not be helped today and to come back the next day. Apparently, only 25 people are able to apply for their residency cards each day so unless you are one of the first 25 people in line in the morning you are screwed. And if you show up when the office opens at 8:30, you’re already too late.
So that whole process has been very frustrating, but the silver lining is that on that same Friday morning there was an Italian girl in front of me who trying to accomplish the same task. After we were both outside, I commiserated with her over the painful process and POOF! New Italian friend! Her name is Francesca and she is participating in the Eramus program here in Granada. For those of you that aren’t familiar with the Eramus concept, it’s basically the universal study abroad program that everyone uses in Europe. I do not believe it is compulsory but it is very popular and students can go abroad for either a semester or a year. Technically, my program is also an Eramus program but since I am in the graduate program I am not included in the Eramus undergraduate activities. Francesca was nice enough, however, to invite me out with the Eramus group Saturday night to meet some more people. We ended up meeting a group of three German girls who were all super friendly. Two of the German girls decided to go to bed early but Francesca, Louisa (the other German student) and I went out to the discoteca with the group and danced the night away. Antonio (my Spanish friend) met us out and we all had a fantastic time. In a bizarre twist of events, I ended up becoming the translator for the group. Since Antonio speaks little English and Louisa’s Spanish is not quite at easy conversation level yet, it was easier and faster for Louisa to speak to me in English and then for me to translate what she said into Spanish for Antonio. Um…. What?? When did I become proficient enough to be a translator? Es una locura! When I came to Spain the first time in 2012, the thing that kept me awake for nights on end months before I arrived was fear of not being able to hail a taxi from the airport to get to my hotel. At that point, I had never hailed a taxi in my life and for some reason I thought that I would have immense trouble doing so. As it happens, taxis just wait at the doors of airports for customers so you don’t have to hail them at all and, furthermore, I met up with a group of students also in my program at the airport so I didn’t even have to speak to the taxi driver since they were much more advanced speakers than I was. All those sleepless nights for nothing.
This time around, I didn’t lose any sleep (thankfully), but I was most anxious about being alone on my birthday. It happened to fall on the first Saturday I am in Spain, less than a week after I arrived. Now, I’ve never been one to make a big deal out of my birthday, but it seemed to take on a special meaning this year as I lamented all the things I was going to miss in my friends’ lives while I was so far away. In all honestly, things have been so crazy here these first days and without any reason to really keep track of days I had totally forgotten that my birthday was today. It was funny, because people I met kept asking me how old I was and I would answer, “Until Saturday, I am 23”, so it incidentally came up in almost every conversation I had. I certainly didn’t mean anything other than providing accurate information about my age but my roommate and her friends took it up themselves to help celebrate my birthday. My roommate, Cristina, has been studying for exams for the past week so she’s been very busy and since she is unable to go out to celebrate she decided to cook me a homemade traditional Spanish dinner, complete with all my favorite Spanish dishes that they had asked about in the days preceding the big event. When I offered to help prepare the food, she said that it was birthday (despite my protests that it wasn’t my birthday for another three hours) and that I didn’t have to worry about a thing. She and her three friends (two of whom have been staying with us and I have gotten to know pretty well) arranged this absolutely lovely meal out on our terrace, complete with a cake with big, bubble 2 4 candles, and a Spanish rendition of “Feliz cumpleaños a ti”. It was honestly one of the most touching moments in my life. Even in my best-case scenarios, I never imagined that I would be this lucky. So, yeah, OK maybe things aren’t working out as smoothly as I thought they might with my residency card or my scholarship starting immediately, but I am without a doubt in the right place at the right time and I am just so humbly grateful. My first day in Spain, I sleep in until 2:30 PM. That’s right: I slept until siesta time. It was glorious. Unfortunately my indulgence cost me a day of getting my scholarship set up since banks are only open until 2 but no pasa nada. I’ll do it tomorrow. I plan to go check in with my graduate program but now I have to wait until siesta is over since the office is probably closed. My roommate is out, presumably studying somewhere for her exams, so I take the time to shower and become acquainted with my new home (for the record: I could definitely get used to taking my coffee on a terrace, just saying). I can’t help but wonder-- what did people do to entertain themselves before they had the Internet? At 4:00 I adventure out to find my academic building. Without WIFI or a physical map I cannot look up where the building actually is, so I wonder towards the street where I know the building is located, feeling very grateful that I was already familiar with the area. In fact, I walk past my old apartment going to the building; it is only one of many familiar places that are going to pop up for me during the day. Walking down the street, I realize that I do not know the exact address or name of the building and the whole street is full of University of Granada’s buildings. Well… I realize that I am starving and concede the mission by telling myself I will look up the actual physical address of the building at whatever café I find with wifi to eat lunch. In my quest for a café, with wifi, I stumble across a bar where we had celebrated one of my study abroad friend’s 21st birthday that we had never been able to find again, the bar where I had my farewell dinner with one of my closest friends, and the restaurant where I had my first date. Madre mía and I haven’t even had lunch yet!
Finally, I find a café that proudly displays “WIFI” in the window, order an obscene amount of food, and get down to business. I proceed to spend the next 2 hours checking all forms of social media, taking screenshots of maps and looking up addresses to all the buildings I can think that I will need in the next 24 hours before I can get back to WIFI. After my binge, I agree to meet up with my new friend, Antonio (for reference, I was planning to live with Antonio, a random Spaniard, but a pipe burst in the apartment and that series of events led to me living with Cristina and Andrea in my current apartment). Antonio and I run a few errands together and he helps me navigate the complicated world of getting a new phone plan (note: I still do not have a Spanish phone but I am much more familiar with my options). We end the evening in classic Spanish style: with tapas. When I return home, I am pleasantly surprised to find that not only is my roommate home and awake but she is with friends! All three of her friends are also students, around my age, and very intrigued by this American living with their friend. Questions range from my opinions on Obama, the truth behind the glamorous American lifestyle portrayed in movies, how attractive I find Spaniards, which discoteca is my favorite, and whether domestic violence and racism are common problems in America. While I certainly would not say that I am fluent, I am pleasantly surprised by the amount I am conversation I am able to carry on with them especially since I didn’t befriend any Spaniards either time I previously studied abroad. In fact, they’ve already offered to through me a surprise party for my birthday on Saturday and invited me to spend Christmas with their families if I do not return home. It’s only the second night and I have potentially five friends—that sounds like a wonderful start to me! Before classes start on the 22nd, I have three very important tasks:
1. Obtain my residency card from the Spanish government 2. Buy a Spanish cell phone and enroll in a data plan 3. Get a Spanish bank account (to pay for aforementioned cell phone and collect my stipend) *I want you all to keep in mind that I have never done any of these things in English and now I have to do them all in Spanish. First order of business is to find my academic building and make sure everything is in order with my enrollment. Keeping the Spanish schedule in mind, I decide to venture out at 10:00, which seems reasonably neither too early nor too late in the morning. Having looked up the exact name of the building I am looking for, I am disheartened when I realize none of the buildings on the street are called “Center of Scientific Documentation” (because after all, why not put gender studies in the scientific documentation center?). Vale. There are two obvious university buildings, a private high school, and what appears to be a gated government building. Well, I’ll try the university building first. Luckily there’s an information desk and the kind worker directs me to a building that is technically located on that street but does not have a door that opens to it. In fact, you have to go through the shady gate next to the government building to access it! Classic. I find the building with little problem and make my way up to the third floor office. In the department, all the office doors are closed and a maid informs me that no one will be there for another hour. Vale. I head over to my new favorite café (aka the only place in town where I have found wifi) for some much needed coffee and breakfast. I spend enough time there to catch up on correspondence and hopefully not bring too much attention to my now almost obsessive need to have access to the Internet. I return to my academic building, walk up the three flights of stairs, stand outside the office to catch my breath (because we simply don’t walk up this many stairs in America on a regular basis!), and proceed to meet the people who I have been corresponding with for almost two years. Manual, one of the assistants in the GEMMA office, gives me a brief rundown on all the bureaucratic things I’ll have to get done before my scholarship can be issued. My list of things to do is increasing and my vocabulary for bureaucratic matters is not quite up to snuff. But I do understand that first and foremost I need to get my residency card. Vamenos! In classic American fashion, I leave directly from the academic office to the government’s Office for Foreigners. Now, for all of you who have knowledge of the process of obtaining a visa at the Spanish consulate in America and thought, “oh wow how easy! It’s just a drive up window. No pasa nada!”. Yeah, well they make that part so much because the residency component is SO HARD. There are no less than 50 people in the waiting area and I wait 30 minutes to be told that the card I need is only issued in limited numbers and only done first thing in the morning. Joder. The clerk gives me the appropriate form and dismisses me without even looking up before calling the next person in line. As I walk out, I realize that I have no idea what half the information is this form is asking for. Debating between going back to GEMMA or asking my roommates to help me, I decide to swing back by the GEMMA office where they are surprised to see me once again and even more surprised that I have already been to the Office of Foreigners! What can I say? Americans like to get stuff done. Together we go through the form and I feel confident that it will all work out tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed, at least. During the course of filling out the forms, I realize that I have already been issued a Spanish Identification Number in my visa (a piece of information that is usually given with your residency) and decide to see if the bank will accept this form of identification to set up a bank account. Now, as much as I love that the whole point of the GEMMA program is international cooperation and broadening horizons, it is a giant pain for things like bank accounts and cell phones (apparently I have to keep my Spanish bank account when I move to Hungary but I have to get a new phone carrier and plan). Since I have to keep the same bank account while I live in both countries, ideally I would have to find a bank that is found throughout Europe and won’t charge me to withdraw money in other countries (can you see how the lack of reliable wifi access is enough to make me pull my hair out?). Luckily, Antonio and one of Cristina’s friends both suggested the same bank, EVO, to me and I decide to just go with their suggestion. I reach their main campus at 1:00; they’re only open for an hour more. There are five people in line ahead of me and screaming children in the lobby. Again, classic. I wait 45 minutes and am told that since I am younger than 28 I am only eligible for their special youth plan and that is an online application only (but hey, it sounds like an awesome option for international travelers!). I stop by my favorite café for the second time today to complete the online application and to figure out the plans for tonight—I’m supposed to go to out to Camborio, the old stomping grounds, with Antonio and his friends. On the way home, I treat myself to the most famous gelato in the city (fun fact: Michelle Obama has been there!) because it has been a long day and this American girl needs a yummy treat before she takes her siesta. So, ok, nothing actually got accomplished today but the foundations have been laid and my vocabulary for bank-related terms has grown immensely! Fingers crossed for tomorrow and you better believe I am going to be the first person in line at the Office for Foreigners tomorrow. Well, it's finally REALLY happening! I'm back in Spain, living on my own, on the brink of starting my dream graduate program. WOW. There are a whole host of emotions I'm experiencing while trying to fully grasp those facts, but strangely enough the most predominant of those is calmness. Everything with my journey to Granada went smoothly, albeit tiring. Upon arriving at my new apartment, I realized that it is not even three blocks from where I had lived while studying abroad in Granada in 2012. Fortuitous, no? One of my two roommates, Cristina, was waiting for me at the apartment (my other roommate, Andrea, will be moving in this coming weekend). The apartment itself is very nice (3 bedrooms, 2 baths, kitchen, laundry area, living area with dining table and balcony) and I'll make sure to post pictures once I get everything in order. The only downside -- it doesn't have WIFI yet, which makes everything very difficult.
As it always seems to happen, everything was going fine until I got cocky and decided to go out on my own. I had to objectives to my mission: buy bedding and find a cafe / bar with internet. My room didn't have any bedding or towels and showering was definitely going to be a necessity the next day so I decided to go out and buy some. Some of you are aware that other countries are not like the U.S. where you can just go buy anything, anywhere, at anytime. In Spain, there are specific stores for specific products and they are not always open--there are no 24-hour Walmarts or Targets just around the corner. Now, it's true that I had never bought linens or towels or anything like that in Spain before but I felt confident that the main department store, Corte Inglés, would have them. So, I ventured out to the nearest Corte Inglés (about 30 minutes walking from my apartment). In my haste to get to the store (I wasn't sure how late they'd be open so I wanted to get there as soon as possible), I had forgotten to ask my roommate what the word for "sheets" is in Spanish. So.... I'm walking around a giant four-story department store, looking for bedding items and trying to avoid asking a salesperson where "things for beds" are since that's the best way I can think to describe "sheets" (for the record, I later learned the word is "sábanas"). Excellent. Unable to find what I am looking for, I return to the streets in search of some sort of household items store. I wonder the streets until I stumble upon at sheets store! Yes, the store is actually called "Tramas Más" (More Linens"!). Perfecto! They even have towels! No pillows but at this point I concede the need the pillows and agree to just use a sweatshirt as a pillow until I happen to find a pillow store. Now for the second task: find internet. When I had lived in Granada before, I didn't have a smartphone so wifi wasn't nearly as pressing a concern back then. I only knew of a few cafes in town that had wifi where I used to go to homework, so I figured I should try those first. First up, an old favorite, Manila. A hipster, vegetarian-friendly cafe, this was one of my gang's favorite spots. Closed. I decide to try our second favorite hangout, Noche y Dia. The problem with Noche Y Dia is that is is all the way across town, it's getting late and I haven't eaten a full meal since the JFK airport the night before. Now, I don't actually know the physical address for any of these places, I only know how to get there from FEELING that they are close. As I approach where I FEEL the cafe is, I become disoriented. I had found it when I visited last summer but in my weakened state I am unable to successfully navigate the area and give up. I successfully navigate my way back to the apartment (which is approximately 45 minutes away from where I was) only to realize that I do not know how to open the door. Now, problems with keys have been a reoccurring theme throughout all my experiences in Spain. I don't know why I always seem to have such problems with keys but it is just the way it is. In an attempt to be proactive against this problem I had asked my roommate to show me how to lock all the doors but I had foolishly forgotten to ask how to UNLOCK the doors. I don't know how to describe this situation with the locks without making me sound totally crazy and pathetic, and I'm sure that plays a part in the problem, but the mechanisms are different here and there are certain ways to actually get the door to open that do not come naturally to me. So, here I am: starving, needing to use the bathroom, holding my linens outside the door to my apartment. I ring the bell in desperate hope that Cristina is home. She's not. I have my American phone with me but unfortunately it won't work without WIFI--the "sin servicio" in the corner where "4G" used to be glares mockingly at me. Now I'm in full out survival mode. I know I need WIFI to contact my roommate so I can explain the situation to her. I know one last bar that has WIFI and that is the new destination (worst comes to worst, I will either sit outside our door until she comes home or stay in a hostel for the night). I march purposefully all the way back to the center of the city (approximately 30 minutes walking) to Casa Lopez, another favorite bar from when we studied abroad. I almost break into tears of joy when I see the "Wifi" sign in the door. I order a drink, get some food (the ribs are just as good as they were 3 years ago), and pull out my phone for the most glorious session of texting I have ever experienced. Satisfied with my dining experience and relieved to have had some brief contact with my family and friends, I make my way back to the apartment where my roommate kindly lets me in and teaches me how to use the door. And that, was my first night in Spain. ¡Bienvenidos! |
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Meet the Author:Graduate student of GEMMA Eramus Mundus Master's Degree in Women's and Gender Studies. Currently living in Budapest, Hungary. Originally from the American midwest. Archives
October 2016
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