02 March 2011

New Kid, Surprise Toilet

Two drastic changes have taken place on the pseudo-homefront lately: University of Granada classes started, and I switched host families. Instead of living forty minutes from school next to a mattress store, I now live ten minutes from school next to a relatively upscale infant clothing store.

My finger is bleeding.

Anyway, the fact that I had to switch houses was tearful, mostly because the week before I left, I took a nap, and when I woke up, there was a new toilet in the bathroom. My heart breaks when I think of all the time this toilet and I could have spent together. Alas!
But in all seriousness, though I miss Pepita, the change was for the better-- she has to deal with her own shit right now-- and my new host mother's food, which is given to me in shocking portions (7 pieces of fish on my plate yesterday), is inexpressibly good. I can't even think of an adequate metaphor to describe its quality. My new host mom also toured in the U.S. in the 60's as a Flamenco dancer, que guay!

My first day at the Universidad de Granada brought, as Emily Grubman would say, quivering bowels. I didn't know where my classes were, or what to expect. I was immediately intimidated when I realized the campus is on a massive hill; I need to begin physically training just to go to school. I approached the Facultad de Filosofia y Letras, out of breath and sweaty from a combination of the sun and being embarrassingly out of shape, and walked by groups of beautiful people clumped outside drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and staring at me in confusion. The coffee and cigarettes were familiar. The staring and feeling of sheer helplessness was not. I got there a half hour early because I'm a freak of a nature, and sat down at the upstairs study tables. To pass the time,  I tried to access the wi-fi (without success-- I need a username, which I lack), and when internet failure got boring, I picked up my notebook and wrote the following:
"everyone is staring, is everyone staring? why was I born blonde? can I cry in a bathroom? is this what the new kids always feel? I have never related more to Lindsay Lohan's character in Mean Girls. holy shit, so many beautiful men. what is happening. 20 minutes until class. I'M NOYVUSS. WORK YOU MOTHERFUCKING INTERNET, WORK!!"
I think that sums up my state of mind before classes began. My Bohemian Lit class is led by an old man who drones on and on and on and on and on and makes me contemplate creative suicides. My other class-- Inequality, Cooperation, and Sustainable Development-- is great. It may, however, give me an aneurysm because there's a new professor every class, which means I never know what to expect. I live in constant fear of being called on and forced to answer on the spot in a lecture hall full of beautiful Spaniards. But, when I look out the classroom window and see mountains, I'm soothed. Thanks, mama earth.

1 comment:

  1. jajajjajaa
    Yeah, I haven't even started classes yet. I imagine my bowels will simply seize up and die when that starts...

    But wait, why did you have to switch familias?

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