on my way

1/15/11

                I can’t believe I’m on my way to Spain. I’m really excited but I’m kind of nervous because I don’t know what’s going to happen. If I had more info, I may have been more comfortable. Part of me can’t wait for the flight back home because I won’t have to worry about anything then.

                Well, this morning I woke up at about 5:20am, and by 6:30 we were on the road. We got to Terminal 4 at LAX, and after it took a while to find the right line, I finally got my ticket. I have to say, the ladies working weren’t very helpful. Mommy ended up scolding one lady that she wasn’t telling us the right thing (she was…but was incapable of explaining it – language barrier?). I walked up to another lady and said, “Excuse me, I have a question.” She then waved her hand and said, “Go over there,” and she turned away. I wanted to punch her. Finally, my dad came and we figured it out. If you want people to help you, don’t use American Airlines.

                I said goodbye to my parents, and yes I did cry. The thought that I wouldn’t see them until June made me sad. Once inside, I traded my $300 for 205 Euro. Yay less money. Then I had my last U.S. meal – a Starbucks fruit and yogurt parfait and coffee. It was almost time to board when they changed my gate. The sad thing is that I was so engrossed in my book that I didn’t even hear the gate-change announcement. It wasn’t until everybody got up and started walking away when I figured I probably missed something.

                My plane was an hour late, and I would have been extremely bored if the guy next to me didn’t start talking to me. First we did the small talk, and then we started talking about our high schools. Apparently he played football and says if he didn’t get hurt, he would probably be playing for the NFL. He was the typical jock. Seriously it was scary. He had blond hair and green eyes, was tall, was from Wisconsin, didn’t get to play football because he didn’t pass Algebra 2, and he was wearing a red sweater and track pants, a green Jansport backpack, and a sweatband on his head.

                I mentioned I went up to Calculus, and he said he thought I did look kind of smart being Asian and all. I was like, “You think I’m Asian??” I was really happy that for once someone actually got my race right. He said I looked mixed, and he guessed Filipino. Then I said I was Assyrian, which led to a conversation about ancient tortures. It was random. Then again, he is super random. His name is Dack (I’ve never heard that name either), he told me he was born in Wisconsin but conceived in Italy, and he randomly said, “My mom’s name is ---.” He talked about how the spots or patterns on our faces were the same. Interesting. Anyway, it was nice talking to someone, anyone.

                We finally boarded, and on the plane I sat next to a Spanish lady named Carmen Buchanan who lives in the U.S. with her American husband but is going to Spain for the cremation of a family member. She was really nice! She put my bag up in the compartment for me, and she was just a ball of energy. She’s one of those super nice people who have tons of energy and likes to talk. She saw me reading a Spanish magazine and started speaking to me in Spanish, so I got to practice a bit with her. When we landed in Chicago, she bought me a huge water bottle and was going to buy me any food I wanted, but I said no.  Fifteen minutes after we landed, we were boarding onto our flight to Spain. It’s a good thing she was next to me because for some reason, my gate number was not printed on my ticket. Weird.

                She boarded before me, and I took in my surroundings while waiting. Most of the people were college students, with their backpacks, scarves, and shiny leather boots. Most of them seemed to know each other. I had a faint idea of what Madeleine looked like (the girl from my program that would be on my flight), but there were so many people that I gave up. Then his random girl stood next to me in line, and she seemed to be alone too. I asked her if everyone was studying abroad, and I eventually found out that she was doing my program too. Yup – it was Madeleine. Jesus. I was originally going to take the Metro by myself (if it’s anything like the one in Mexico, a baby could figure it out), but she was taking a taxi so we decided to share.

                We landed at 8am, and the sky was literally pitch black. I thought 8am meant daytime. Well we got to the taxi, and the guy was pretty nice, telling us a little about Madrid. The car reeked of cigarette smoke , and  the ribbon on his rearview mirror had the colors of the Spanish flag with pictures of marijuana leaves on it. Also he said joder a lot and the song on his CD screamed out puta every once in a while (Sorry if I offended anyone who actually knows what those words mean). Well we got to the hotel safe and sound in the rain, and we checked in. Turns out, Madeleine was my roommate at the hotel too. Coincidence? I think not. Jesus :)