As it turned out, I ended up telling Lola I got lost on my way back from watering the olive trees, so she went with me the second time. The path is now both familiar and obvious: not only is it about half the length of the one I took before, but it is also very direct and complete clear. When we get to the point where I was supposed to turn off the hose, Lola sees that it is still open and has a small panic attack: HEMOS FALTO TODO EL AGUA! Es un desastre! I try to explain that I did turn it off, just at a point closer to the trees, because I couldn't find the proper way back. She doesn't really believe me, but we keep walking.
Eventually we get to the point where I did indeed turn off the water, but only after we passed at least 4 other locations where I didn't. It was a fun walk.
I watered a billion trees, but came back just as the sun was setting, and successfully found the path and turned off the water. Woo!
I decided to set an alarm the next day to wake myself up. I set it for 9am, and woke up then and went in for breakfast. Lola looked at me, and immediately asked what I was doing awake. She asked if I used an alarm, and obvi I did. She then gave me a little speech about how I am NOT a morning person and shouldn't pretend to be one. We decided I will do all of my trabajos in the afternoon, so that I can sleep until 12 if necessary. THIS IS PERFECT.
On Monday we went into the town of Huercal-Overa to do some shopping. Lola left me at the mercado, and I had about 3 hours to roam around. The market was kind of like a street fair in New York, but with MUCH better stuff and ridiculously low prices. I loved it. I bought some clothing, shoes, and some gifts for the fam. I hope I can go back, because I want to get everything! It was all wonderful and I miss it.
When we got back to the farm, Candela had a friend over (Erica), and I did an English lesson with the two of them. It was too hot in the afternoon to go water los olivos, so I instead did some more arts and crafts work: I finished up the jar fixins for the mermeladas (I have a new favorite: mermelada de albaricoque. IT'S SO GOOD), and then made some light covering things out of wire, tissue paper, and hay. I had to somehow wrap the tissue paper around a conical wire structure and attach a tuft of hay to it without ripping the tissue paper. It was a struggle. Eventually I figured out a successful system, but not until I had wasted a ton of tissue paper and made some really ugly ones.
We had guests for dinner again, this time it was Erica's family. We had a delicious tortilla made of eggs, potatoes, and onions, and then salad and wine. Erica's brother Mario really enjoyed my presence. He's probably 9 or 10 years old, and he kept showing me things and trying to teach me words in Spanish. At the end of the night he gave me ice cream. I like him.
I decided that my favorite word in Spanish is "rica". But only when it's used to describe food. I think it sounds wonderful and is a perfect description of delicious food.
The next day was more of the same, but in the afternoon I helped Lola make a roof for one of the casitas for the huespedes. The house is right in the sun, so it gets really hot, so we laid out bamboo sticks to make some shade on the patio. I was in charge of hauling the sticks and cutting them, and Lola laid them out. Luckily I have used loppers before (at Harvest and also while I worked in Central Park), but the sticks were about 20 feet long and I kept poking myself and falling over.
At dinner Lola and I had a wonderful heart to heart and she told me all about her life and the history of the farm. She is from a pastoral Arab family (that's as specific as it got), and bought the property 17 years ago. She has since added 7 casitas for guests to stay in, and grows nearly all of the food herself, living in an entirely organic and natural manner. Over the past few days, Lola has reminded me many times how a woman should always know how to cook and clean. I nod politely but inside am not thrilled about this compartmentalization and feel that women should be allowed to do other things. At this dinner though, Lola explained to me that women must learn to cook not to provide for their husbands necessarily, but to be able to be independent: if you know how to cook, you can not only cook for yourself, but you also know how to go to the market and spend a small amount of money and be able to make a ton of great meals. This seems obvious enough, and I'm sure other people use this argument too, but I never thought of it this way. I like it.
Eventually we got to the topic of boys, and Lola asked if I have a boyfriend. I told her no, and she said that was better, that girls should wait longer for things like that. Candela was not pleased. I asked if it was normal for girls my age to be married in Spain, explaining that nearly every man I met at the airport and around Madrid asked me if I was married. Lola told me no, not at all, and that these men are probably asking because if I am not married, they will want to try to marry me to get papers because they aren't from here. Oh. Good to know.
Another fun event during dinner: the cats were up on the bamboo roof above the main terrace of the house, trying to eat little birds! I was not happy. Two little birds fell out of the roof, and just plopped onto the terrace. I thought they were dead because they didn't move AT ALL, but I went to look at them and they were just sleeping. I have never seen a bird that relaxed around people! I was able to go right up to them and they didn't care! (probably not that big of a deal really if they can fall out of the sky without noticing)
Today I met the chickens.
I do not like chickens. I think they are smelly and terrifying and spastic and they bring tons of flies with them everywhere. So naturally, I was THRILLED when Lola brought me over to the chickens. I waited patiently outside the door as she went in their pen, indicating that NO I would not be joining her in breathing 60% air, 30% flies, and 10% chicken poop dust. No.
Lola started scraping up the unknown substances that covered the floor of the pen, and I stood outside trying desperately to escape the flies. Lola soon came out with a bucket filled with the floor goop, and told me to bring it outside and dump it out to fertilize the trees. I looked inside the bucket and saw little worms crawling around in the poop/dirt/hay. Yummy.
I carried the bucket about 843759827855 miles to the trees, dumped it out, and headed back to Lola. She had another bucket waiting for me. And another one. And another one. I went back and forth with 8 or 9 buckets, and ended up creating a nice mountain of chicken products around the trees. I was hot and sweaty and disgusting by the time it was over. It was definitely not my favorite trabajo, but if I hadn't been there I know it would have taken Lola at least twice as long to get done. In addition, because the chickens are so disgusting, Lola was able to set up a fly trap bucket near there pen. It's working pretty well; the bucket is almost entirely filled with dead flies. I think I prefer chickens to flies, so I guess they aren't ALL bad.
However, I did cut my leg on the chicken wire, so if you don't hear from me again assume I am dying from asphyxiation from some ornithosis infection or have lockjaw from my tetanus infection.
Hopefully not though, because today Lola brought out BUCKETS of new fruit and I want to eat all of it.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I am have brown eyes: Los Primeros Dias
My first night in Huercal-Overa was pretty uneventful: after meeting mi familia Lola y Candela, I went with them into town to do some quick shopping. The town is cute; hopefully I'll see more of it later on.
The farm I'm staying on is called Casa Rural Aloe Vera. Apparently casas rurales are very popular in Spain and the rest of Europe, and probably should be in the states too because they're a great idea. Essentially a casa rural is like the most wonderfully relaxing and intimate hotel ever: you stay with a family in their rural home. You pay to stay there, but are friends with the owner and eat some meals together. I love it.
Anyway, the first night I arrived, Candela showed me around the house. I got my sheets and towels and immediately went to shower and clean myself extensively. I ate dinner (fish, little potatoes with some pate of which I have yet to determine the contents, and salad) and then went to my room. I unpacked and went online, and when I realized 5 hours had passed and it was midnight, I decided to go to sleep.
The next morning I woke up on my own. I was surprised that I had woken up so early: the family wakes up around 6am to being working, and if I was awake on my own, that means I woke up before they came to get me. Odd, considering I hadn't slept in 3 days...I couldn't fall back asleep, so I got up and went in to the kitchen. The clock told me it was noon. OOPS
Lola did not seem to care / notice that I have slept 6 hours passed when I should have woken up, and instead makes me breakfast (cafe y pan tostado con mermelada de naranja y mantequilla). IT IS SO DELICIOUS. I love Spanish food. And Lola and Candela made all of the food themselves! So wonderful.
Lola sells some of the foods she makes for los huespedes who stay in her casa rural. She sells mermeladas and honey mostly, along with small amounts of some other foods and arts and crafts. I spent the rest of the morning preparing some of the jars for selling.
After lunch (which Lola tells me is the most important meal of the day, "tenemos que comer juntas siempre a las dos"), Candela and I have our Spanish and English lessons:
Lola sits down with a book on la ortografica, and Candela and I sit and write a dictation that Lola reads aloud. The goal of this dictacion is to practice the difference between el be (b) y el uve (v) when writing in Spanish. This is odd for me because my first language is English, so I pronounce the two letters differently, but in Spanish it is hard to tell the difference.
After the lesson, I help Candela with her English. Her English book is very European, and the grammar is surprisingly odd for me. The book teaches word contractions like "I've" and "what's" without teaching the full phrases first / at all. It also has phrasing that is weird for me such as "I have got" as opposed to "I have". We come across a game in the book, and of course Candela wants to play it 38091713544086 times, so we sit there for 45 minutes going around and around the gameboard repeating the same questions. She plays for both of us, since I already speak English. Que divertido.
When Candela finally tires of the game, Lola takes me out to water the olive trees. The olive trees are pretty far from the house, and the view is really nice despite the fact that most of the grass is dried out. I sit and water the trees, reading a short Spanish novel Lola lent me to practice with while I wait.
I finish watering just as the sun is setting, and realize I have no idea where to put the hose, let alone how to get back. I retrace the hose to a point where it sits in a pile, and leave it there. I start walking back towards the house. I realize after about 30 seconds that I can't see the house anymore, and I'm walking through grass and bushes up to my waist. The walk over was easy and through low grass and even just dirt. This is not correct.
I see a house and start walking towards it, hoping I can at least find a road and then walk along it and hopefully end up back at the farm. I realize I am most definitely on someone else's property, as I am now running through and ruining perfectly tilled soil. Eventually I get to a road. I am sweaty and gross and sad and lost. But at least I found the road!
Of course then two dogs come out, barking as loudly as they possibly can to signify my intruding on their farm. I still have no idea where to go, but I take off in the opposite direction hoping the dogs will stop before someone sees me.
Somehow I end up back at the house. I come in just in time for dinner, which we are having with the two huespedes, Antonia y Estela. I leave to go wash my hands before dinner, and walk around the house twice before coming back and asking where mi habitacion is. I have been here for two days and still cannot find my room. I come back, and everyone is all dressed up, and I'm in my dirty farming pants with hathead. Excellent.
We sit and enjoy an incredible dinner (delicious rice and vegetables shaped into a bundt cake pan, salad, wine, and tortilla de zanahorias: a sweet pie thing made entirely of carrots--SO GOOD). I understand most of the conversation which is exciting, but only contribute really when we start talking about immigration in the U.S.
As we finish up with dinner, A BIRD COMES OUT OF ESTELA'S SHIRT. Apparently it has been sitting there sleeping in the top of her bra the whole time, but it was small and not moving so I didn't see it. He settles down and goes back to sleep. ?!
We have infusion (tea) after dinner, with some of Lola's honey. It is SO AMAZING (obviously. I lover everything here). The bird comes out again, and this time he poops on Estela's shirt before going back to sleep. After dinner, we all part ways for bed.
I woke up this morning at noon AGAIN. Lola didn't say anything!! Apparently I should wake myself up, but I'm going to try to set an alarm from now on because I don't want to miss all of the work! Candela and I had our lessons again, and I worked more with preparing the jars. For lunch I helped make patatas fritas. Spanish olive oil is the best.
Lola and Candela take a 3 hour nap / resting time after lunch usually, but I'm not tired (obvi. I woke up 2 hours ago) so I keep working on the jars or check my email. I'm about to go back out to water los olivos. I'm kind of worried because I'm going by myself this time and have NO IDEA WHERE THEY ARE or how to get back. We'll see how this goes...
Also, I'm taking a ton of pictures and will post them once I figure out how to? / upload them to the computer.
The farm I'm staying on is called Casa Rural Aloe Vera. Apparently casas rurales are very popular in Spain and the rest of Europe, and probably should be in the states too because they're a great idea. Essentially a casa rural is like the most wonderfully relaxing and intimate hotel ever: you stay with a family in their rural home. You pay to stay there, but are friends with the owner and eat some meals together. I love it.
Anyway, the first night I arrived, Candela showed me around the house. I got my sheets and towels and immediately went to shower and clean myself extensively. I ate dinner (fish, little potatoes with some pate of which I have yet to determine the contents, and salad) and then went to my room. I unpacked and went online, and when I realized 5 hours had passed and it was midnight, I decided to go to sleep.
The next morning I woke up on my own. I was surprised that I had woken up so early: the family wakes up around 6am to being working, and if I was awake on my own, that means I woke up before they came to get me. Odd, considering I hadn't slept in 3 days...I couldn't fall back asleep, so I got up and went in to the kitchen. The clock told me it was noon. OOPS
Lola did not seem to care / notice that I have slept 6 hours passed when I should have woken up, and instead makes me breakfast (cafe y pan tostado con mermelada de naranja y mantequilla). IT IS SO DELICIOUS. I love Spanish food. And Lola and Candela made all of the food themselves! So wonderful.
Lola sells some of the foods she makes for los huespedes who stay in her casa rural. She sells mermeladas and honey mostly, along with small amounts of some other foods and arts and crafts. I spent the rest of the morning preparing some of the jars for selling.
After lunch (which Lola tells me is the most important meal of the day, "tenemos que comer juntas siempre a las dos"), Candela and I have our Spanish and English lessons:
Lola sits down with a book on la ortografica, and Candela and I sit and write a dictation that Lola reads aloud. The goal of this dictacion is to practice the difference between el be (b) y el uve (v) when writing in Spanish. This is odd for me because my first language is English, so I pronounce the two letters differently, but in Spanish it is hard to tell the difference.
After the lesson, I help Candela with her English. Her English book is very European, and the grammar is surprisingly odd for me. The book teaches word contractions like "I've" and "what's" without teaching the full phrases first / at all. It also has phrasing that is weird for me such as "I have got" as opposed to "I have". We come across a game in the book, and of course Candela wants to play it 38091713544086 times, so we sit there for 45 minutes going around and around the gameboard repeating the same questions. She plays for both of us, since I already speak English. Que divertido.
When Candela finally tires of the game, Lola takes me out to water the olive trees. The olive trees are pretty far from the house, and the view is really nice despite the fact that most of the grass is dried out. I sit and water the trees, reading a short Spanish novel Lola lent me to practice with while I wait.
I finish watering just as the sun is setting, and realize I have no idea where to put the hose, let alone how to get back. I retrace the hose to a point where it sits in a pile, and leave it there. I start walking back towards the house. I realize after about 30 seconds that I can't see the house anymore, and I'm walking through grass and bushes up to my waist. The walk over was easy and through low grass and even just dirt. This is not correct.
I see a house and start walking towards it, hoping I can at least find a road and then walk along it and hopefully end up back at the farm. I realize I am most definitely on someone else's property, as I am now running through and ruining perfectly tilled soil. Eventually I get to a road. I am sweaty and gross and sad and lost. But at least I found the road!
Of course then two dogs come out, barking as loudly as they possibly can to signify my intruding on their farm. I still have no idea where to go, but I take off in the opposite direction hoping the dogs will stop before someone sees me.
Somehow I end up back at the house. I come in just in time for dinner, which we are having with the two huespedes, Antonia y Estela. I leave to go wash my hands before dinner, and walk around the house twice before coming back and asking where mi habitacion is. I have been here for two days and still cannot find my room. I come back, and everyone is all dressed up, and I'm in my dirty farming pants with hathead. Excellent.
We sit and enjoy an incredible dinner (delicious rice and vegetables shaped into a bundt cake pan, salad, wine, and tortilla de zanahorias: a sweet pie thing made entirely of carrots--SO GOOD). I understand most of the conversation which is exciting, but only contribute really when we start talking about immigration in the U.S.
As we finish up with dinner, A BIRD COMES OUT OF ESTELA'S SHIRT. Apparently it has been sitting there sleeping in the top of her bra the whole time, but it was small and not moving so I didn't see it. He settles down and goes back to sleep. ?!
We have infusion (tea) after dinner, with some of Lola's honey. It is SO AMAZING (obviously. I lover everything here). The bird comes out again, and this time he poops on Estela's shirt before going back to sleep. After dinner, we all part ways for bed.
I woke up this morning at noon AGAIN. Lola didn't say anything!! Apparently I should wake myself up, but I'm going to try to set an alarm from now on because I don't want to miss all of the work! Candela and I had our lessons again, and I worked more with preparing the jars. For lunch I helped make patatas fritas. Spanish olive oil is the best.
Lola and Candela take a 3 hour nap / resting time after lunch usually, but I'm not tired (obvi. I woke up 2 hours ago) so I keep working on the jars or check my email. I'm about to go back out to water los olivos. I'm kind of worried because I'm going by myself this time and have NO IDEA WHERE THEY ARE or how to get back. We'll see how this goes...
Also, I'm taking a ton of pictures and will post them once I figure out how to? / upload them to the computer.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Jensen Tries to Travel Solo
My journey to the farm was epically long and arduous (to say the least), and I'm going to recount its events Tucker Max - style (you'll see why soon).
Wednesday, June 24th
circa 3:30 pm: Alyssa, my mom and I pile into the car to go to the airport, after last-minute packing (obviously) and a brief Skype test to make sure my new account is working (it is, so Skype me! My username is jreckhow). My mom realizes I have brought a bottle of prescription pills with me (the remains of my wisdom teeth extraction meds) as I take one upon getting in the car. She tells me I will be arrested at the airport for bringing controlled substances onto the plane; I tell her I do not want to get an infection or to suffer from mouth pain while flying. I take the pills, as I have basically a full bottle of antibiotics left, but I'm kind of worried now.
4:30 - 4:50 pm: We circle through the Newark airport terminals three times, looking for where KLM is. After confirming three times that it is not at any of the terminals, I decide to check my flight information. KLM apparently partners with Delta. My mom is thrilled.
6:40pm: My first plane takes off from Newark. My plan is to sleep during this flight, since I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I decide to not take my medication, because my mouth isn't hurting. Two hours into the flight, and halfway through my first book, I realize that my legs are in unbelievable pain (probably from walking all over the city before I left doing last minute shopping) and I will probably never sleep again. I'm too afraid to take my meds now though, so I just sit and read and agonize. I decide Tucker Max is less than morally sound, but this book is hilarious and I love it. We arrive in Amsterdam around 8am the next day.
Thursday, June 24th
8am - 11am: I wander around the Amsterdam airport waiting for my layover. I consume lots of Stroopwaffels (one of the greatest foods ever made: two waffel cookie things with caramel goo inside) from Starbucks like I used to way back in the day when they still sold them at American Starbucks', and idly peruse all of the duty-free shops. My envy of Europe is restored (no explanation necessary). I finish the Tucker Max book. I loved it and recommend it to everyone, as long as you know what you're in for.
1pm: I realize I am at the wrong gate for my flight, after sitting there for two hours. I check the departure board to see where I am supposed to go. I do not see my flight, and panic because my flight has already started boarding, wherever it is. Someone helps me, and obviously my flight switched terminals and is now boarding 73292015703 miles away. I start running over, looking ridiculous because
1. my bag is more than overflowing due to the 3 books I purchased to read in Spain (I hope They Serve Beer in Hell, Eat Pray Love, and Three Cups of Tea), and my computer which never fits in the first place, but is now barely wedged in between the 7 books I am now carrying
and
2. have you ever seen me run.
1:05pm: I arrive at the new terminal. It was actually not that far away, and they haven't started boarding (slash don't start for another 15 minutes).
1:30 - 4:30pm: I fly from Amsterdam to Madrid. This may be my favorites flight of all time, as they served complimentary stroopwaffels as a snack.
SIDE NOTE: After my plane lands in Madrid, I have 7 hours to kill before I take a 9 hour bus from the airport to the town near the farm I am working at. 7 hours is a lot of time, so I was hoping I might be able to go into the city for a bit to explore instead of just sitting in the airport. I mentioned this in the car, and everyone freaked out because
1. there is not enough time
2. my luggage will get stolen and I will get lost and will probably die
4:30 - 5:30pm: I decide I'm going to try to go to Madrid anyway, because I have faith in myself and also know I will be pissed forever if I pass up the chance to see the city when I have plenty of time to do it. I find a locker to store my luggage in while I am gone, and head off to take the Metro into the city.
6:00pm: The Metro takes maybe 15 minutes, and I arrive much sooner that I thought I would. This is good - I can now spend more time in Madrid! Yay!
6:30pm: jk this is not good. I am having trouble entertaining myself in Madrid and am reluctant to spend more money here.
6:30 - 9pm: I wonder around aimlessly, having not done any research on Madrid and thus not knowing where I want to go. I see plazas and colorful buildings, and spend plenty of euros on gelatto and other food I don't need that I store for later. Since I don't really know what to do and am tired and bored, I start taking pictures of license plates. I like them.
9:15pm: I arrive back at the airport, legs exhausted from my fruitless trip to the city. I'm happy I went but wish it could have gone differently: I either did not go to the right places, or just expected the city to be different. I retrieve my bag, and head over to the terminal where my bus departs from.
9:45pm: After walking around the airport in circles looking for Terminal 4 (following ALL of the signs though), I give up. This terminal does not exist, and I should not have brought a bag this large.
9:50pm: After asking for help, I learn that Terminal 4 is the reject terminal of the airport, and is actually barely within the borders of the country. I have to take a bus to get there. Terminals 1, 2, and 3 are all next to each other, actually ATTACHED to each other, and certainly within walking distance of one another. But obviously Terminal 4 has to be as far away as possible.
9:57pm: I get to Terminal 4, and go wait for my bus at the bus stop.
10 - 11pm: I wait for my bus, and go up to the driver of every bus that arrives asking 1. is this my bus? and 2. do you know where my bus will arrive? Everyone says no. I quickly recruit two friendly people I meet to help me out because
1. they see I am about to cry and am obviously not succeeding
2. they work for a bus company so they should be able to help me
and 3. one of them speaks English
11- 12:30am: My bus does not come. A thunderstorm begins and escalates and does not end. I am wet and cold and sad and busless. My new friends help me by calling the bus company and arranging for me to take another bus the next morning from a different stop. They give me directions and wish me luck. I head back inside.
12:30 - 6am: I entertain myself in the Madrid airport for 5.5 hours. I am dirty and disgusting and tired. Instead of sleeping, I sit and read and drink lots of delicious Spanish coffee.
6am: The Metro opens again. I take it to the new bus stop. I am completely cracked out on way too much coffee and not enough sleep. And by not enough sleep I mean NO sleep.
6:15am: I arrive at the new bus stop. Problem: my bus leaves at 10am, and the train ride was supposed to be an hour and a half and obviously wasn't, so I now have 4 hours to kill. Good thing I am well rested and fully capable of staying awake and not missing my bus.
6:30am: I realize that my bag is covered in fresh plaster that I picked up while dragging it down the stairs at the train station. Picking it off is a joy. It smells rancid and of course everything I am wearing is black so I make a huge mess. But I already haven't showered in 2 days so it's no big deal really.
8:30am: A man waiting for the bus with me sees me falling asleep on my bag and asks if I want some coffee. Obviously I want some coffee, but I hadn't gotten any yet because I didn't see anywhere to get it from. My sleep-deprived brain decides it is a wise idea to follow this man.
8:50am: I finish my coffee and am restored from my zombie status. The man pays for my coffee and begins asking about my life. After learning that I am from New York and a student (the great decisions just keep on coming) he suggests we get married, because then it will be easier for me to get papers so I can travel all over Europe all the time. I laugh awkwardly and say I want to go back to look at the bus schedule. I am not about to miss a second bus.
9am: We are back downstairs. My creepy man friend asks me if I have any children. I say no, so he asks if I would like to make some children with him (in much cruder phrasing). Apparently he meant right then and there at the bus station, because he proceeds to try to kiss me.
9:01am: NO. Adios senor. I proceed to the other end of the station and reflect on my shrewd decision making skills.
9:30am: I check the bus boards for my bus, because it should be up at this point and I'm obviously panicked about missing it. It isn't there. WTF is this.
9:45am: After frantically pacing the station and asking everyone for help (unsuccessfully), I realize that my bus should be coming soon and is indeed on the board, but under a pseudonym so I would never find it. But I did, and am now waiting patiently at the stop.
9:50am: The bus arrives. I confirm that it is the correct bus, and proceed to explain to the driver in pathetically butchered Spanish that I missed my bus last night but Icalledthecompanyandtheysaiditwasokformetojustcomeandtakethisbustoday. He says uhh..ok and puts me off to the side. After everyone else is on the bus, he lets me get on in an empty seat. SUCCESS!! NOPE. Two seconds later, he pulls me off. My seat was reserved by a latecomer. It's ok though, because there are like 7 more empty seats. NOPE. A wave of latecomers show up, all with reservations. My seats quickly fill up. Eventually everyone has arrived, and luckily enough there is ONE EMPTY SEAT LEFT! I am so unbelievably relieved. I climb up and immediately pass out. Everything is great again.
5:30pm: I arrive in Huercal-Overa, where I meet my host madre Lola and her daughter Candela. I am exhausted and dirty and smelly but I could not be happier to be here. After more than three full days of travel, 0 showers, 0 teeth-brushing events, and 0 changes of clothes, I FINALLY MADE IT!
Wednesday, June 24th
circa 3:30 pm: Alyssa, my mom and I pile into the car to go to the airport, after last-minute packing (obviously) and a brief Skype test to make sure my new account is working (it is, so Skype me! My username is jreckhow). My mom realizes I have brought a bottle of prescription pills with me (the remains of my wisdom teeth extraction meds) as I take one upon getting in the car. She tells me I will be arrested at the airport for bringing controlled substances onto the plane; I tell her I do not want to get an infection or to suffer from mouth pain while flying. I take the pills, as I have basically a full bottle of antibiotics left, but I'm kind of worried now.
4:30 - 4:50 pm: We circle through the Newark airport terminals three times, looking for where KLM is. After confirming three times that it is not at any of the terminals, I decide to check my flight information. KLM apparently partners with Delta. My mom is thrilled.
6:40pm: My first plane takes off from Newark. My plan is to sleep during this flight, since I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I decide to not take my medication, because my mouth isn't hurting. Two hours into the flight, and halfway through my first book, I realize that my legs are in unbelievable pain (probably from walking all over the city before I left doing last minute shopping) and I will probably never sleep again. I'm too afraid to take my meds now though, so I just sit and read and agonize. I decide Tucker Max is less than morally sound, but this book is hilarious and I love it. We arrive in Amsterdam around 8am the next day.
Thursday, June 24th
8am - 11am: I wander around the Amsterdam airport waiting for my layover. I consume lots of Stroopwaffels (one of the greatest foods ever made: two waffel cookie things with caramel goo inside) from Starbucks like I used to way back in the day when they still sold them at American Starbucks', and idly peruse all of the duty-free shops. My envy of Europe is restored (no explanation necessary). I finish the Tucker Max book. I loved it and recommend it to everyone, as long as you know what you're in for.
1pm: I realize I am at the wrong gate for my flight, after sitting there for two hours. I check the departure board to see where I am supposed to go. I do not see my flight, and panic because my flight has already started boarding, wherever it is. Someone helps me, and obviously my flight switched terminals and is now boarding 73292015703 miles away. I start running over, looking ridiculous because
1. my bag is more than overflowing due to the 3 books I purchased to read in Spain (I hope They Serve Beer in Hell, Eat Pray Love, and Three Cups of Tea), and my computer which never fits in the first place, but is now barely wedged in between the 7 books I am now carrying
and
2. have you ever seen me run.
1:05pm: I arrive at the new terminal. It was actually not that far away, and they haven't started boarding (slash don't start for another 15 minutes).
1:30 - 4:30pm: I fly from Amsterdam to Madrid. This may be my favorites flight of all time, as they served complimentary stroopwaffels as a snack.
SIDE NOTE: After my plane lands in Madrid, I have 7 hours to kill before I take a 9 hour bus from the airport to the town near the farm I am working at. 7 hours is a lot of time, so I was hoping I might be able to go into the city for a bit to explore instead of just sitting in the airport. I mentioned this in the car, and everyone freaked out because
1. there is not enough time
2. my luggage will get stolen and I will get lost and will probably die
4:30 - 5:30pm: I decide I'm going to try to go to Madrid anyway, because I have faith in myself and also know I will be pissed forever if I pass up the chance to see the city when I have plenty of time to do it. I find a locker to store my luggage in while I am gone, and head off to take the Metro into the city.
6:00pm: The Metro takes maybe 15 minutes, and I arrive much sooner that I thought I would. This is good - I can now spend more time in Madrid! Yay!
6:30pm: jk this is not good. I am having trouble entertaining myself in Madrid and am reluctant to spend more money here.
6:30 - 9pm: I wonder around aimlessly, having not done any research on Madrid and thus not knowing where I want to go. I see plazas and colorful buildings, and spend plenty of euros on gelatto and other food I don't need that I store for later. Since I don't really know what to do and am tired and bored, I start taking pictures of license plates. I like them.
9:15pm: I arrive back at the airport, legs exhausted from my fruitless trip to the city. I'm happy I went but wish it could have gone differently: I either did not go to the right places, or just expected the city to be different. I retrieve my bag, and head over to the terminal where my bus departs from.
9:45pm: After walking around the airport in circles looking for Terminal 4 (following ALL of the signs though), I give up. This terminal does not exist, and I should not have brought a bag this large.
9:50pm: After asking for help, I learn that Terminal 4 is the reject terminal of the airport, and is actually barely within the borders of the country. I have to take a bus to get there. Terminals 1, 2, and 3 are all next to each other, actually ATTACHED to each other, and certainly within walking distance of one another. But obviously Terminal 4 has to be as far away as possible.
9:57pm: I get to Terminal 4, and go wait for my bus at the bus stop.
10 - 11pm: I wait for my bus, and go up to the driver of every bus that arrives asking 1. is this my bus? and 2. do you know where my bus will arrive? Everyone says no. I quickly recruit two friendly people I meet to help me out because
1. they see I am about to cry and am obviously not succeeding
2. they work for a bus company so they should be able to help me
and 3. one of them speaks English
11- 12:30am: My bus does not come. A thunderstorm begins and escalates and does not end. I am wet and cold and sad and busless. My new friends help me by calling the bus company and arranging for me to take another bus the next morning from a different stop. They give me directions and wish me luck. I head back inside.
12:30 - 6am: I entertain myself in the Madrid airport for 5.5 hours. I am dirty and disgusting and tired. Instead of sleeping, I sit and read and drink lots of delicious Spanish coffee.
6am: The Metro opens again. I take it to the new bus stop. I am completely cracked out on way too much coffee and not enough sleep. And by not enough sleep I mean NO sleep.
6:15am: I arrive at the new bus stop. Problem: my bus leaves at 10am, and the train ride was supposed to be an hour and a half and obviously wasn't, so I now have 4 hours to kill. Good thing I am well rested and fully capable of staying awake and not missing my bus.
6:30am: I realize that my bag is covered in fresh plaster that I picked up while dragging it down the stairs at the train station. Picking it off is a joy. It smells rancid and of course everything I am wearing is black so I make a huge mess. But I already haven't showered in 2 days so it's no big deal really.
8:30am: A man waiting for the bus with me sees me falling asleep on my bag and asks if I want some coffee. Obviously I want some coffee, but I hadn't gotten any yet because I didn't see anywhere to get it from. My sleep-deprived brain decides it is a wise idea to follow this man.
8:50am: I finish my coffee and am restored from my zombie status. The man pays for my coffee and begins asking about my life. After learning that I am from New York and a student (the great decisions just keep on coming) he suggests we get married, because then it will be easier for me to get papers so I can travel all over Europe all the time. I laugh awkwardly and say I want to go back to look at the bus schedule. I am not about to miss a second bus.
9am: We are back downstairs. My creepy man friend asks me if I have any children. I say no, so he asks if I would like to make some children with him (in much cruder phrasing). Apparently he meant right then and there at the bus station, because he proceeds to try to kiss me.
9:01am: NO. Adios senor. I proceed to the other end of the station and reflect on my shrewd decision making skills.
9:30am: I check the bus boards for my bus, because it should be up at this point and I'm obviously panicked about missing it. It isn't there. WTF is this.
9:45am: After frantically pacing the station and asking everyone for help (unsuccessfully), I realize that my bus should be coming soon and is indeed on the board, but under a pseudonym so I would never find it. But I did, and am now waiting patiently at the stop.
9:50am: The bus arrives. I confirm that it is the correct bus, and proceed to explain to the driver in pathetically butchered Spanish that I missed my bus last night but Icalledthecompanyandtheysaiditwasokformetojustcomeandtakethisbustoday. He says uhh..ok and puts me off to the side. After everyone else is on the bus, he lets me get on in an empty seat. SUCCESS!! NOPE. Two seconds later, he pulls me off. My seat was reserved by a latecomer. It's ok though, because there are like 7 more empty seats. NOPE. A wave of latecomers show up, all with reservations. My seats quickly fill up. Eventually everyone has arrived, and luckily enough there is ONE EMPTY SEAT LEFT! I am so unbelievably relieved. I climb up and immediately pass out. Everything is great again.
5:30pm: I arrive in Huercal-Overa, where I meet my host madre Lola and her daughter Candela. I am exhausted and dirty and smelly but I could not be happier to be here. After more than three full days of travel, 0 showers, 0 teeth-brushing events, and 0 changes of clothes, I FINALLY MADE IT!
...what? (aka why does Jensen have a blog?)
This summer, after working on reunions and post-term cleanup as a Housing Assistant at school, and in between working as a test prep tutor in New York, I decided to take a trip to Spain. I'm going to be abroad for about a month, and will spend my time working on a farm near the southern town of Huercal-Overa through the WWOOF organization of Spain(www.wwoof.es).
After falling in love with everything about Harvest (the pre-orientation program I did before coming to Yale, where I worked for a week on a local Connecticut organic farm with 6 other prefrosh and 2 upperclassmen leaders), I began looking into the WWOOF organization, and quickly decided I love that too. WWOOF (for anyone who doesn't know, and sorry for the redundancy if you do) is an international alliance of farmers and volunteers dedicated to promoting more global awareness of, appreciation for, and involvement in, the increasingly critical occupation of working as a sustainable farmer committed to environmental health and justice (for a more complete version of the mission statement, go to www.wwoof.org). As a (hopefully) Environmental Engineering major, and one desperately trying to be more proficient in Spanish, I figured a month of WWOOFing in Spain would be the perfect way to develop my respect and understanding of organic farming while cultivating my Spanish conversational skills.
And so here we are. I departed from New York on June 23rd, and I'll be returning on July 28th. The month in between will be spent on the Aloe Vera farm (www.casaruralaloevera.com) with Lola and her daughter Candela (and possibly some other WWOOFers?), working on anything from garden work to animal maintenance to general housekeeping needs. I'm not really sure what it will be like just yet, but I'll keep a record of any exciting things, both in posts and in pictures, that happen here.
If you know anything about me, you can understand how far out of my comfort zone this trip is going to be. I have spent my entire life living in New York City, freak out at the sight of most insects, and actually believe that the woody parts of Central Park constitute wilderness. My farming experience is limited to the 6 days I spent doing Harvest, and this is my first time in Spain, and also my first time being in a rural area where nobody speaks English. While there are of course plenty of more daring and enlightening things I could be doing this summer, I chose this and am looking forward to the exciting challenge ahead.
I'm also looking forward to recording my trip as a blog (as I'm sure you can tell), so if you have any free time this summer and are looking for something to peruse on the internet, I would really appreciate it if you would check out my blog once in a while to see my updates!
After falling in love with everything about Harvest (the pre-orientation program I did before coming to Yale, where I worked for a week on a local Connecticut organic farm with 6 other prefrosh and 2 upperclassmen leaders), I began looking into the WWOOF organization, and quickly decided I love that too. WWOOF (for anyone who doesn't know, and sorry for the redundancy if you do) is an international alliance of farmers and volunteers dedicated to promoting more global awareness of, appreciation for, and involvement in, the increasingly critical occupation of working as a sustainable farmer committed to environmental health and justice (for a more complete version of the mission statement, go to www.wwoof.org). As a (hopefully) Environmental Engineering major, and one desperately trying to be more proficient in Spanish, I figured a month of WWOOFing in Spain would be the perfect way to develop my respect and understanding of organic farming while cultivating my Spanish conversational skills.
And so here we are. I departed from New York on June 23rd, and I'll be returning on July 28th. The month in between will be spent on the Aloe Vera farm (www.casaruralaloevera.com) with Lola and her daughter Candela (and possibly some other WWOOFers?), working on anything from garden work to animal maintenance to general housekeeping needs. I'm not really sure what it will be like just yet, but I'll keep a record of any exciting things, both in posts and in pictures, that happen here.
If you know anything about me, you can understand how far out of my comfort zone this trip is going to be. I have spent my entire life living in New York City, freak out at the sight of most insects, and actually believe that the woody parts of Central Park constitute wilderness. My farming experience is limited to the 6 days I spent doing Harvest, and this is my first time in Spain, and also my first time being in a rural area where nobody speaks English. While there are of course plenty of more daring and enlightening things I could be doing this summer, I chose this and am looking forward to the exciting challenge ahead.
I'm also looking forward to recording my trip as a blog (as I'm sure you can tell), so if you have any free time this summer and are looking for something to peruse on the internet, I would really appreciate it if you would check out my blog once in a while to see my updates!
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