The Adventures of Merrick: Carnaval

February 6, 2013

I did it. I confronted my madre about the white bread. Now all of my sandwiches are gloriously Spanish-styled with a soft, fresh wheat baguette. All is right with the world.

Yesterday Leila, Katie, and I took on the tasks of concocting homemade sangria, recipe courtesy of our Spanish professor. According to him, the sangria served at the American bars is "mierda", or shit, and that true sangria needs at least 24 hours for all of the ingredients to marinate. And boy, did it marinate. The apples and peaches were soaked to the core in red wine, and essentially were shots in themselves. Two small 8oz. glasses later, I didn't stand a chance. Of course, we enjoyed our sangria to it's fullest: in tandem with watching (and singing along to) Hercules and Taylor Swift music videos.

Two major changes to my school schedule:

1. Successfully switched to the 12-3 Spanish block.
2. This week marks the start of my International Business course, Marketing in the EU.

My new Spanish class is significantly more lack-luster and monotonous than my previous class. However, the style of the class works better with my way of learning. Also, it's just nicer to not wake up so early :P

February 7th, 2013

Flashback: Every morning my mom give me an orange, six crackers, and a slice of chocolate cake. she packs me a sandwich for what I think of as second breakfast, as we do not normally eat lunch until about 3pm.

So today was my madre's birthday. 59 years old! Her two sons came from Murcia, and the four of us went to birthday lunch at a charcuterie restaurant in downtown Alicante. If you reference the flashback, you will understand that I have already had all of this to eat, so I wouldn't classify myself as "hungry". But, if you reference my track record when it comes to food, I am always hungry.

The lunch is very Spanish style; potatoes, chorizo, eggs, ham, and bread all in tapa-form for the entire table to share. I try to be modest and only take a little bit of everything, seeing as I've already eaten and I want to make sure everyone else gets enough food. But apparently all three of them must think I'm starving. They constantly urged me to eat more, and would just leave whatever food wasn't eaten right in front of me (my only weakness). So I eat it.

Afterwards, we return to the house for champagne and birthday cake. We sing, Puri blows out the candles, and begins to cut slices. She cuts this MASSIVE slice, and then three slivers.

Guess who got the slice the size of Texas? Is it because I'm American?! Does my reputation as a human garbage disposal precede me that much?!

It's a vicious cycle: Puri gives me a lot of food thinking I'm hungry enough for it. I'm not, but I eat it all because I love eating. Because I finish it all, she thinks she needs to give me more. And so on.

February 8-10th, 2013 CARNAVAL

Thursday marked the first day of Carnaval. Carnaval is a three day festivity filled with music, costumes, parades, fire, free food, and insanity. And so began my first adventure:

Thursday:

Following a late-afternoon siesta, I decided drag my lazy ~~ass~~ butt to the rocodromo, about an hour after I told people I would be there. Around 10 pm, I began my trek home and decide to take the scenic route, down the major street called Rambla de Mendez Nunez.

Out of nowhere came a parade of people. They were dressed in black and red from head to toe, swinging around fire and sparklers, and marching to the sounds of drums and oboes. Other people were dressed in fur costumes on stilts, and one man was in a chariot rallying the group. It essentially looked like a cult.

The parade continued down La Rambla to a small plaza just outside of El Barrio. There, a stage was set up along with small kiosk for beer and free sausages. At this point, the parade had gathered quite a few followers, including some other girls from my program.

The Spanish people have no concept of fire safety. In the middle of the crowd, people began juggling, breathing, and swinging around fire, in addition to handing out sparklers to anyone and everyone. I felt little singes on my head as dozens of drunk Spaniards waved around their sparklers around carelessly. A band began to play and called for the bartender to bring up a bottle of tequila for shots onstage. The bartender hopped up, birdied a shot for the band members, and then began made his way through the crowd just pouring alcohol down the open mouths of spectators.

Friday:

Friday marked the first night of "not-grandma-status" for me, Hannah, Katie, and Leila. Seeing as the Spanish don't begin to go out until 12-1am, this was the first night in about three weeks that all of us managed to say "no" to sleep and actually go out. We killed the sangria, danced our pants off, and managed to not spend a single euro on drinks all night.

Saturday:

Saturday is the day of Carnaval that resembles a Halloween party for adults. On crack. Before the festivities really kick off (at 1:30 in the morning). I had to get creative with the costume part, as I don't have a lot to work with from what I brought to Spain. I ended up being a boxer: taped my hands, wore a hoodie and a sports bra, and put on war paint. I thought it turned out well.

I joined my friends from the rocodromo for pizza and beer before going out to the main party. Apparently three of the guys in our group that night were actually clowns, so I learned how to make a doggie from a balloon! While attending full-fledged Spanish outings are really good for practicing my Spanish, it is made that much more difficult to understand what anyone is saying. When majority of the pre-gaming includes making balloon animals and conga-lining around the flat, who needs words?

The main street was PACKED with people. Two stages set up on both ends of the street blasting Top 40 dance remixes. The open bottle and smoking law didn't exist tonight; everyone had a beer, bottle of wine, or straight liquor in their hands smack dab in the middle of the mob of people thrash dancing and jumping in front of the stage. Our group conga-lined our way to the front of the stage and promptly began dancing in a manner very similar to that of the Harlem Shake. Look it up.

I ended up getting home around 5 in the morning. My game is weak :P But now, I enjoy being a hermit in my house and writing my blog from the comfort of my soft, cozy bed :)

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