Some changes around La Expatriada

Thanks y'all. For real.

Hola todos!

I know I have yet to post those Segovia photos (or a rather nauseating video of Alcazar’s spiral stairs) but I have a few quick announcements and thank-yous to dole out.

First off, thank you to everyone who has read, followed or promoted this blog. As many of you know, I would love to eventually work in arts or travel journalism, and I’m hoping to use this blog as a clip in my portfolio. Your support definitely helps. I’m honestly pretty amazed by some of the hit counts I’ve been getting (someone reads this? Really?!), so thank you x100 for your attention and your interest.

I’ve been brainstorming ways to keep this blog interesting for you guys and to keep it practical for people who are learning Spanish or planning to visit Spain, themselves.

That brings me to the big announcement: starting this weekend, you should start noticing some changes to La Expatriada, including all-English post titles, an easier categorization system and several new types of content, like how-tos, reviews and (my masterpiece!) a podcast series called “Emergency Español.”

Unfortunately, it’s not always easy for me to post when and how I’d like to. BUT I’m going to work really hard to continue showing you what it’s like to be an “expatriada” in Spain, and how you can become one, yourself.

As always, gracias por todo! And if you know someone who would be interested in this blog, please (please!) pass it on.

Un beso,
Caitlin

Do Spanish people even like maple candy?

Is this a sign that my host family would NOT like maple sugar candies?

Days until Spain: 4

Let’s pretend you’re a middle-aged Spaniard who’s playing host to an American student, and said student is bringing you a gift from Western New York.

Would you want an ironic Bills T-shirt? Chicken wing paraphernalia? A snow globe of the Falls?

I have no idea what you’d want, which is making it difficult to find a hello-thanks-for-letting-me-live-with-you gift for my host family.

We’re supposed to bring something unique to our area. Thus, I was planning to pick up some maple sugar candies (only available in Canada and certain parts of the U.S.!) at this gourmet food store today. Sadly, the gourmet food store no longer carries maple sugar candies — this despite the fact that we’re all of 20 minutes from the Canadian border, where all things maple are undoubtedly available in very large supply.

I might schlep over to Ontario tomorrow. Or I might just get some of these adorably named Truffaloes, which are — as you may have guessed — chocolate truffles shaped like buffaloes.

I think they’re funny, but maybe you have to be from Buffalo to appreciate that sort of thing.

Ideas?

Twenty-seven degrees

It's the same temperature in Madrid as it is in Buffalo.

Days until Spain: 5

Do you hear that noise? It’s the sound of both hell AND the Manzanares freezing over. There’s a bummer, if I ever saw one.

More pre-departure errands

So many errands, so very little time.

Days until Spain: 6

I can’t believe I’m leaving in less than a week. Worse, I can’t believe I’m leaving in less than a week and still have so much to do (!!!).

Fortunately, as of today, I can cross two items off my agenda: I finally got around to buying an outlet adapter (this one, in fact — $21) and my cousin dyed my hair a darker shade of brown.

I think every study abroad program on the planet recommends buying an outlet adapter, so I won’t impart too much advice on that (though if you’re interested in the engineering intricacies behind said adapter, you’re welcome to accompany my father on a weekend trip to Best Buy).

One warning: there’s a big difference between outlet converters and outlet adapters. Make sure you read up on it before you plug your 120 volt curling iron into a 230 volt outlet and, you know, fry your hair off.

Speaking of hair — mine is now a pretty deep brown. This is all a part of my zany scheme to disguise myself as a native Spaniard and thus avoid pickpocketers/purse-snatchers. It’s not exactly foolproof, but blending in a little bit can’t hurt.

My mother has kindly pointed out that I’m much too pale for this plan to work.

Regarding Spanish nightlife

These madrileños know how to party. Apparently, I do not.

Days until Spain: 6

“Little kids?  Little kids? They don’t even have kids in Madrid. It’s all wine, beer, cigarettes and hot Spanish men.”

This from my cousin’s cosmetology school teacher, in response to the admission that I requested a host family with kids. I like kids! But according to this teacher, at least — who had just returned from ten days in Spain — people don’t go to Madrid because they like kids. Or culture or art or history, for that matter.

“Make sure you go to La Latina,” she advised. “That’s where all the coolest pubs and bars are.”

I’ll be honest: my conversation with this woman, as brief and friendly as it was, kind of freaked me out. Aside from the tips on host families and nightlife, I was also warned against flat shoes and casual clothing, both of which would apparently identify me as a tasteless American. She was particularly vehement about my hair.

“Do you blow your hair out?” She asked me. Keep in mind, my hair is all of two inches long. I replied along those lines.

“Well come on, girl!” She roared, “you’re going to Madrid! And you should see the way they dress to go out over there!”

I know it will be fine, but until I’m actually there and witnessing how fine it is, I will probably continue to suffer mild anxiety attacks whenever someone decides to educate me on the (expensive, incessant) drinking culture in Madrid.

The diet, take two

Let's try this desperate pre-Spain diet thing again.

Days until Spain: 11

Okay, okay — so I didn’t make it through even one meal on the vegetable soup diet. I was about to dig into a steaming bowl of overcooked celery this morning (“dig” might be a little too strong — “reluctantly prod” is more accurate) when my mom asked if I’d like to go to Olive Garden for lunch.

It’s Olive Garden, guys. I couldn’t resist.

Anyway, if a vegetable soup fad diet is the worst of my bad decisions in Spain, then I’m in a very good place. I’ve decided to attempt the Special K fad diet instead. You just eat cereal all the time.

… At the end of the day, I just have to thank the powers that be that I’m not going to Spain during swimsuit season, and I’m not going to the coast.

Vegetable soup

If I can survive seven days of this, I can do just about anything.

Days until Spain: 11

This is the soup that will allegedly make me lose 15 pounds before I leave for Spain. It tastes pretty awful. I’m not holding my breath.

But maybe name-dropping a few diet terms will help boost my blog stats, yeah?

Packing list: cardigans and corduroy pants

Cardigans: the key to packing for Madrid.

Days until Spain: 12

Spain shopping was (slightly) less painful than expected.

My mom and I hit the outlet mall today — in a vicious blizzard, I might add — to pick up a few new things for the trip.  After consulting some former Spanish travelers, a few tourism Web sites and my ever-handy guidebooks, I came up with these guidelines for packing:

1. Madrid in January is pretty chilly. It averages 34 degrees on the low end and 49 on the high, and even in May, the high temperature shouldn’t creep much higher than 65.
2. Your casual is not their casual. The Spanish tend to be more formal dressers, especially in comparison to Americans. So you might want to trade your leggings for … you know. Actual pants. I’m definitely revamping my lazy-cold-weather uniform of long sleeved T and clashing zip-up.
3. There are some things to avoid. Madrileños don’t really wear shorts. So unless you want to openly declare your turista status, I would recommend pants or a skirt even through the summer. I’ve also read that flip-flops, Birkenstocks and baseball caps are frowned upon.
4. It must fit in two suitcases. Or else you get slammed with an incredulous bag charge, and this trip is bankrupting me quite enough already.

I know, that’s a little too vague to be entirely helpful. But if you enjoy the vintage-store-meets-Banana-Republic-clearance-rack aesthetic (yeah, that is pretty much how I dress), I’d recomend cardigans, scarves, sweater tights, skinny cords, versatile dress tops and winterize-able summer sundresses.

Two words of my heavily accented Spanish will tip them off, but from a distance, at least, no one will know I’m a tourist!

Right? Right.

So, they only give us two suitcases…

If this is how people dress in Spain, two suitcases doesn't cut it.

Days until Spain: 15

Two suitcases: one big, one small. That’s the limit on all the clothes, notebooks, magazines and other yet unknown (but totally neccesary) paraphernalia I’m allowed to bring on the plane.

I spent a few hours today trying to unpack and repack my boxes from school, figuring out which items are worthy to make the 3746-mile journey and which are spending a semester in my closet at home.

This would be easier if I were a little less neurotic about clothes.  The summer before college, I inventoried my entire wardrobe and made an Excel spreadsheet of all my best, most “collegiate” outfits (… yeah, that really happened. I couldn’t make this stuff up).

That instinct has obviously mellowed, but still: I don’t want to look like a tourist.  I don’t want to bring all my winter stuff and overheat.  Or all my summer stuff and freeze.  Or, even worse, I don’t want to forget something crucial (underwear? Jacket?) and have to buy more in an overpriced Spanish department store (although I have heard truly awesome things about both Zara and El Corte Inglés).

There’s no time for spreadsheets, but I am keeping my eye on a couple Spanish fashion blogs.  So far fashion in Madrid looks an awful lot like fashion in Brooklyn.

I think I’ll sleep (read: procrastinate) on this one.

A good podcast for learning Spanish

Spanish podcasts: worth some excitement.

Days until Spain: 19

I just chanced upon a hilarious Spanish podcast series, which I’d highly recommend to anyone else in need of some remedial español.  It’s called “Show Time Spanish” and is targeted to intermediate/advanced speakers.

A warning: when the unspeakably corny intro starts up, you’ll be tempted to X-out and never listen to a podcast (or read this blog) again.  But stick with it.  The first episode is all about whether “real Scottish men” (“escocés verdaderos”) wear anything under their kilts.

Enjoy!

P.S. Podcast is the same in English and Spanish. It just sounds cooler in Spanish: pohd-cahst.