I Wanna Dance all, Dance all Everyday

I Wanna Dance all, Dance all Everyday

I am quickly finding that I have a lot to write about and a lot on my mind. I'm not going to cut my writing short, but I am going to provide headers to each topic. That way, if you, the reader, are uninterested or only want to read about something specific, you can jump around. Oh! And I've been updating the Pictures and Videos section of the blog, so check those out for more images and such.

Thoughts on Madrid

Graffiti in the City:

On this trip, I'm really trying to avoid looking through that glossy and dreamy tourist lens. But it is difficult when you enter a new city, especially those with fantastic reputations, to push yourself away and analyze it objectively. Of course, this doesn't mean you ignore the good things each city has to offer. Instead, I think, it means you have to be more open to accepting the bad qualities within each location.

With that said, I find little fault in the center portion of Madrid in which I stayed. Even greater still, after walking a good portion of the cities SE and central regions, there was little that I could place a statement against. The architecture was splendid- both new and old- the streets and other infrastructure were either in great condition or currently being repaired. The office buildings looked like something out of a science fiction movie, glaringly-shiny or light-absorbingly black, they appeared powerful and official. The only bit of wariness I have with Madrid's construction was the ever-present graffiti.

Some of it, I'm sure, is artistic. But graffiti always leaves you wondering- why was this placed here, who placed it, and what was their intention? Was it to gain attention, mark territory, or to add flavor to a neighborhood? I'm not sure. I remember reading an article about New York City a while back, specifically on cleaning up the city during one of it's harsher times. At this point in NYC's history, the subways were littered with graffiti and gang signs. This scared people. During the time, crime was present in all regions. To eradicate the problem, the city focused on cleaning the subways, rinsing them of the dirtiness that graffiti produced. As a result, two things happened. First of all, crime was reduced as the subways regained a better relevance in the city. Secondly, graffiti spread from the subways to the streets. Even so, the crime rates dropped significantly, and it would appear that the focus fire on specific areas aided in reconstruction of NYC's representation as a safe place. As for how this relates to Madrid, I'm not certain. At the short glance I had of the city, it was difficult for me to come across harder issues.

Homelessness in Madrid

Just outside of a local McDonalds a man sleeps next to a cardboard sign and a plastic cup.

I didn't take the stance I wanted to initially with homelessness in Madrid. I came into this project urging to approach and talk with people on the streets, but I wasn't able to do that in this city. Maybe it was a lack of courage or a lack of understanding, but here I only observed from a short distance. Still, I did my best to look at it with an analytic eye.

Compared to Phoenix and Tucson, the habits of  the homeless I saw in Madrid were nearly identical- and it makes sense. Find a busy avenue or street, preferably with tourists. Get a sign to tell your story. Ask for money. Either that, or find a parking place for the day with an empty cup, hat, or box. This is the surface level, of course. There are many homeless people that don't beg or make themselves visible on the streets- I am only discussing what I was able to see. One difference I would like to make note of is the grouping of the homeless. In Phoenix and Tucson, I rarely see different people that are homeless chatting on a street corner or taking breaks. There doesn't seem to be a sense of community but rather an overwhelming lone-wolf mentality. In Madrid, however, I noticed several members of the same ethnicity talking with each other. Looking further, I could see that these same people would set up on a very large street, each one of them at a strategic section, in order to maximize their efforts. This gave the act of asking for money a much more business-like image in my mind. Additionally, it put me off from going up and talking with them. It was disruptive.

Currently, in Barcelona, I'm finding that this isn't the case here. But I still have a few more days to see the city, and hopefully I can  find out a little more by observation and conversation.

Early Musings in Barcelona

Barcelona greeted us with wind and an extreme amount of dark clouds. Raindrops floated in the air at low quantities and the language of Catalan was far more present than Spanish, to my chagrin. Our nerves were on edge, too. From little sleep, the long bus ride, and the lack of a place to stay the night. We made base camp at a chain-like restaurant near the Barcelona-Saints station called Pan & Company. Plus: there was an outlet to charge the dying laptop. Minus: internet access was restricted to thirty minutes. Good thing I’m quick with my keys and faster with a mouse. CouchSurfing fell through again, which was really disheartening. So again, we went to the second option- a really cheap hostel. A place in Barceloneta, a neighborhood in the southeast of Barcelona, had one that was reputable for being clean and relaxing. Perfect.

Hostel #1 of Barcelona

Still, we had to get there first, which took over two hours of hiking through the city and getting lost and mangled in avenues and boulevards. It was a harsh contrast to our arrival in Madrid, where we had a good amount of time to kill before even having to worry about finding a roof over our heads. Here, we as time dipped later and later, it was becoming a real concern. By pure luck, though, we came across our target hostel and we each let out a little yawp of joy. Then more luck: we got the last possible beds available. Ahhh. I couldn’t imagine how distraught we would be if we were sent away.

But how is Barcelona? Pretty. Rough. Rustic. It’s right next to the water, but many times the city doesn’t even feel like a port-kinda town. Poverty is more present here than it was in Barcelona, especially along Av. Parallel (less so along Av. Meridian and near the Arc de Triomf). From what I’ve seen, there are plenty of parks in the city- wondrous ones, too. They have secret gardens and tiny museums, even some wild tidbits of architecture and statues. Many homeless live in the parks, though. Walking through the Park de la Ciutadella, I noticed groups scattered around water refill stations and on the benches (around 10:00am).

A Secret Jungle inside a Building!

The beach  at Barcaloneta, which has a reputation for being crowded, was absent of people when Chris and I visited it on an early morning walk. Excuse the unsteady hand, I had just been skipping rocks for the past thirty minutes and was trying to avoid getting sand on the camera!

We haven't really seen the sights of the city yet. Today, I think, we will see what we can. We are getting ready to trek through the city again to find another new place to spend the night. This one is back in Barcaloneta, closer to the beach. I found it for a great price on AirBnB. It will be our first time using that website, so hopefully it will be a good experience.

Regrets, Fixes, and Bad News (in that order):

Phone: It was a mistake to not bring a phone. While it does save a good amount of money, having a phone would make life so much easier. Many organizations and websites require a phone authentication via SMS or a call. Luckily, I’ve been able to get by with Google Voice. But with a phone, I could provide my own WiFI tethering in places that lacked it, and I could use it as a secondary/primary resource of communication. At this point, if I have to call a number I’m screwed. Email is all I got.

Ryanair: No regrets yet, but plenty of fixes. I’ve been doing research on several of the airports we will be flying into and realizing that there are some major logistical issues. For example, in the upcoming flight from Barcelona -> Milan, we won’t be arriving in the city of Milan. Instead we will land in the city of Bergamo, 50km NE of Milan. This creates the issue of having to get a connection by bus or train, which increases the overall budget.

Dreamhack: Some of you may know what this is, but in case you don’t, it is the world’s largest videogame event. It’s enormous. Chris and I were hoping to see what it was like first-hand, but we’re pretty sure that isn’t going to be possible. Originally, we thought it was located in Stockholm. However, it is in the city of Jönköping, which is a $150 train ride away.

Wrapping Up
That's it for now. I did my best to catch up on things. I'm not sure if I wish to discuss typical sights- we've been to several museums, explored the Botanical Gardens in Madrid, and found monuments around both Barcelona and Madrid. If anyone has a specific question about that stuff, you can always ask me directly by email or a quick message on Facebook. I'm around on WiFi when I can, and I'd be glad to answer any questions!

For now, it is time to abuse the Urbany Hostel's "All You Can Eat Cereal and Oranges" for a little longer before diving back into Barcelona.

Hasta luego.

-Sam

Madrid, Madrid- A Somewhat Lengthy Update on the Beginning

Madrid, Madrid- A Somewhat Lengthy Update on the Beginning

Early Saturday morning, we hit the airport. Ed, Chris’s friend, drove us as we jammed to the new Daft Punk album, cruising with our fingers crossed for two things- that Ed’s beat-up Nissan wouldn’t explode and that our first international flight went smoothly.

It did, more or less.

Our plane descended into Madrid at 6:50am. Peering through the little window near the wing, the clouds looked like the waves of a curling ocean. A few of us pulled out our cameras and awkwardly tried to get pictures, and we all laughed. It was a long flight and nice to be rewarded with such a pretty sunrise as we landed. The Modest Mouse song, “Talking Shit about a Pretty Sunset” came to mind, and I thought to myself that not a single bad thing could be said watching the sun rise at eye-level with the clouds.

Chris and I were in a daze as we walked through the airport. His head was only two inches from crawling along the ceiling and I kept focusing on the advertisements and trying to translate the Spanish announcements as they echoed across the tile floor. I nervously approached the clerk at the customs line, deciding on how I should open the conversation.  Would a simple “Hola” suffice or should I break out “como estas?” as well? I opted for the second option and received a stern glance and my first rectangular stamp in my passport. If I had Instagram, I think that would have been one of the few times I would have wanted to use it. The stamp just felt so official. I guess it was. After all, without it, I wasn’t allowed to enter the country.

Three options hummed for getting to the center of the city hummed in the air as we stepped outside. Walk, taxi, or bus. The walk, we realized, was too far. So we tried the taxi. With our bags in the trunk, the cab driver told us it would be 35 euros. Whoa. No deal. Thus, the bus. It took about ten minutes for the right one to arrive, but that wasn’t an issue. The weather outside was fantastic, clean, and a steady sixty-six degrees.

Madrid, as a city, opened up with graffiti-ridden walls and a mix of modern and old, stone-based architecture. Rolling hills that screamed something like a Tuscan backdrop surrounded the airport, but as we closed into the center of the city they were exchanged for apartment and governmental buildings. Parks, fountains, and monuments seemed as plentiful as Madrid’s roundabouts, which, as we found out quickly enough, were quite common and confusing.

This place called Hotel de Las Letras (Hotel of the Letters) ended up saving us. With no WiFi and little understanding of the maps and streets, we needed to get some kind of GPS reference to our location. We almost didn’t try the hotel. It looked glamorous: complete with red carpets and high ceilings, ornate walls of marble and those white, shining pillars that are only in glowing ballrooms. But the people inside were kind and helpful and willing to be patient with my rusty Spanish. With access to WiFi and an outlet adapter, we found a hostel to stay in and get our bags in one place. CouchSurfing, sadly, didn’t pull through and we didn’t want to be worried about finding a bed when the sun was setting.

But first, we urged to explore some more. With big packs and booming voices, we put off the vibe of two buffoons piling our way through the streets of the city and certainly had large nametags that said, “American.” This one guy caught on. He was wearing a blue hoodie and worn jeans and had that shady aura licking his shadow. Chris and I were lumbering around with our map out and he casually stepped into our conversation, directing us toward an alleyway. Initially, we trusted his direction, crossing the street and heading that way. He followed at a short distance, emphasizing his stroll as a stroll- nothing more. That’s when I noticed three guys, wearing similar clothes, leaning against the side of an adjacent building and giving us the stare down. It wasn’t the, “Those look like two cool dudes” stare. Nah, it was the “We want to take your money” stare. So I pulled Chris off to a nearby table, dropped our bags down, and waited for our tail to pass. We got so excited about being in Madrid that we forgot to be cautious and it almost cost us. I felt like a patsy for getting marked so quickly.

The hostel. Located on Calle de Barbieri, it had pretty much everything going for it. Beds. Hot showers. Clean bathroom, clean kitchen with pots and pans, staffed 24/7 with free printing, an additional computer, and WiFi. The only real drag was that my computer seemed to be unable to come to an agreement with the hostel’s internet- it refused to connect. But it wasn’t the hostel that had the problem with its temperament, it was my little netbook. All in all, I can only say great things about this place.

My first real Spanish conversation happened at the hostel. I started casually talking to the maid, trying to remember verbs and tenses and any noun that I needed. It was a struggle at initially, but as we chatted about favorite places, the weather, and her family, I began to realize that my Spanish wasn’t so bad. We discussed Spain in general for a while and it was refreshing to hear how much she loved her country- from vacations she took to Barcelona as a kid to Madrid, where she had lived for over fifty years, the passion she had for her city was tangible. And her favorite place? The worn street of Calle de Barbieri, where she lived and worked. I thanked her for the conversation before we left.

Alright, so even though CouchSurfing didn’t work out in Madrid, I still wanted to be an active member. On Madrid’s page, I was able to find some people in the city and we got in touch with a girl from Philadelphia. After dinner, we went out to a bar called El Tigre to meet her for a drink and chat about travel and our experiences. We got there early and ordered a beer each, without realizing one wonderful thing about some Spanish bars- with drinks come tapas. Tapas are these little sandwiches built from a slice of a bagette and a slice of meat (jamon, chorizo, carne). They are delicious and greasy. But when you order a drink, the bartender smiles, hands it to you, and then gives you THREE plates full of tapas. So Chris and I each bought a drink and walked off to a table with six plates of miniature sandwiches. Awesome, except for the fact that we were already stuffed. We ate anyways, as we didn’t want to look bad for accepting the complimentary food and not doing anything with it.

Shavana, the girl from CouchSurfing, arrived shortly. She hung out while we finished our drinks and then together we walked to another bar to meet her friends from her hostel. It was a group of five or so people, two girls from India and a guy who lived and worked in Madrid. It was actually really cool, sitting and chatting with these people we’d never met. We’d share stories, each one of us adding on experiences- be them from India or Philly or Spain or somewhere any of us had traveled, the conversations were full of excitement and interesting aspects. I can see myself really liking the CS (CouchSurfing) program. It just pulls all sorts of different people together for good times.

As we walked home, the clouds broke above us and it started to rain, very gently. It was relaxing and welcoming, and a good way to end the day.

As I am getting ready to close my laptop, a group across the street is howling and singing “Feliz cumpleanos a ti”, ecstatic and excited. I can’t help but think that their emotion, that pure happiness and enthusiasm, is how I’ll remember Madrid. The people are loving, caring, and willing to help. The streets are easy to learn, once you find out that the street signs are on the sides of buildings, and the weather is like a sunny day in Hawaii with a spicier flavor.

I’ll get a post out on our second day when I can. It was great though- free museums, the botanical garden, and a lot more use of Spanish. I also want to do some reflection. But for now, I need rest. We have to catch a bus tomorrow and it takes an hour to walk to the station, so we are waking up at five to get there on time. 

For now, all I can say is adiois. To the blog, to Madrid, and to this great hostel. It’s been great and I can’t wait to return.

Adios Arizona

Adios Arizona

“See, it’s making it hard for me to breathe / When I get worked up with all these feelings” – The Rocket Summer (Goodbye Waves and Driveways)

It’s time to go. The flight leaves early this morning and I’m getting up early to finish final preparations. I’ve said goodbyes, I’ve packed and repacked my bag enough times to realize I’m a minor amateur, and I’m chuck full with enough nerves, stress, excitement that clouds are forming in my brain.

I’m glad to say that I am not traveling alone. My good friend, Chris Cronin, is able to join me. I remember a while ago when I first told him about my idea for an adventure. He was hanging out in my room and a bunch of us were watching some silly YouTube videos, relaxing in-between studying for a test. He shoots me this text three days later that says, “I can’t stop thinking about your trip. How do I join?”

We were able to make it work and honestly it will be nice to have Chris along- for company on an adventure and for safety when I start to overstep my bounds (and I will, at some point, start to overstep my bounds). I’ve asked Chris to make an “About” profile, so as soon as he puts one together it will be in the section next to mine.

Anyway, we’re flying into Madrid.  I took my MCAT test this past Thursday, so a lot of pressure is off there and I'm completely focused on making everything fit together like a classy puzzle. We’re waking up at 4am to finish printing tickets and important information and to copy data to our USB sticks. We want to make sure we have all our bases covered and since we will be flying for a sum of over twelve hours, it isn’t too big of an issue if we lose a little sleep to do it.

Sadly, we’ve yet to lock-in on a place to stay at Madrid. Finding a host on Couch Surfing has proved more difficult than expected and I’m really worried that we won’t be able to get someone for our first city. Working with people through CS is a big part of the trip, as it will be critical for understanding and getting hands-on interaction with culture- so hopefully something turns up.

Thanks for reading! Before voyaging I’ll try and throw another update in during our short layover in Charlotte. It isn’t certain, though, because I think we have to get out passports checked out. Not sure how that works- excited to find out though.

Best,

Sam

First Video: Expectations and Interests

First Video: Expectations and Interests

Hello! Here is my first video. This one was done using my webcam, but in the future I am hoping to do the rest using my camera. It marks my basic interests and reasons for planning this trip. In a way, it adds my face to the blog as well.

Have a great day.


Best,

Sam

Being Homeless

Being Homeless: Day 1

9:00am – 1:00pm

I’m comfortable. Even though it is getting up to the mid-90s, I am not hot and I have a solid supply of water. The backpack fits comfortably and provides good airflow and I managed to keep the weight below 20 pounds.

My backpack doesn't fit in the gym locker. It is larger than I anticipated. When I get the chance, I need to repack it and prioritize which items I place in easy-to-access locations.

I’m heading to lab now. I’m planning to boil some rice on a hot plate and have that for lunch. I’m hoping to get back to the gym later tonight and see if I can have them hold my pack behind the counter. If I can’t use the gym as a free storage center for my pack, it is going to make this a little more difficult.

1:00pm - 2:30pm

I forgot my phone charger. Hopefully I can get my phone to last until Thursday at the least!

I managed to cook rice on a hot plate in lab. Originally, I wanted to borrow one of our extra plates that lacks a power cord. However, the cable I brought didn't fit. I'll have to see what I can do later for dinner. Oh, and I must be the sloppiest, plastic knife-wielding rice eater there ever was. I should apologize to the wonderful glass window on the third floor of the CSB.

6:00pm - 9:30pm

Checked my lab again to see if I could get in and use a hot plate to make rice for dinner. No dice. Looks like I'm eating the rest of my bread ration for dinner tonight.

I did manage to get into the ML building. It only took me 6-7 attempts to find an open classroom, too. Here, I dropped my gear in a chair, turned on the projector, and proceeded to bust out some homework and study. Took a slight break to watch a little of Eternal Sunshine on the big screen, but was interrupted when my brother called and invited me to the last Darwin show (improv group) on campus.

11:45 - Sleep

Left the comedy show and walked toward my chosen destination for a night's rest- the K building. I did some awkward maneuvering (normally graceful so long as I don't have a fat pack) and climbed a fence and several flights of stairs. Next, I had to scale a ladder, and couldn't get my backpack to stop beating against the guardrail. All worth it though- I couldn't wait to wake up with the sun rising next to me.

Sleep - 4:00am

Just kidding. I couldn't sleep.

I made it to the top of K, but lying on the concrete surface high in the air was brutal. The wind wasn't letting up and with just the sheet coverage of my sleep sack, I was shivering. Still, I kept trying to sleep. Rolling, shifting my knees- I made attempts at every trick I knew. But I realized it would be better for me to retreat and find a place that was both warmer and comfier.

Spent a little time searching the rooftop for a heating vent or something, but couldn't find one. Climbed down the building with a slump in my shoulders and trekked to the main library, which is open 24 hours a day.

Just after the clock hit 4:00am, I put my feet up in an arm chair in one of the library's far back corners.

 

Being Homeless: Day 2

  

Sleep - 5:55am

Good morning.

One of the librarians placed his face awkwardly close to mine, and with a gruff voice that lacked sympathy, he stated that no sleeping was allowed in the library and that I had to leave immediately. I don't remember what I said back. I threw my things in my bag and headed for the gym.

6:10 - 8:00am

I already knew my backpack wasn't going to fit in one of the lockers. Luckily, I was able to convince one of the guys behind the equipment desk to watch over it for the time being. Before I did that, I made sure to lock up the items I needed and my more expensive things.

The gym was a haven. It provided a variety of things to do and allowed me to stay clean after a long night tossing and turning on a rooftop. I hadn't eaten, but I made sure to down a couple of bottles of water so I felt full.

11:00 - 2:00pm

Repeated my lunch plans from yesterday, boiling some more of my rice on one of the lab's hotplates. Finished work and headed to the upper floors of the science library to try and catch up on sleep. Put my head on a desk in the corner, guarded my gear, and napped in and out between studying.

2:30 - 7:00pm

I went to work at the S elementary school where I help out with the chess program. Today, Tuesday, was the weekly day for 1st-3rd graders. I laughed as they tried to lift up my backpack. It was bigger than most of them.

12:30 - 3:45am

Without planning out a possible place to sleep outside, I thought it would be best to avoid braving the outdoors and take shelter in the school library again. Using a privilege for Honors students, I reserved a private study room on one of the higher floors. I made a quick camp inside, moving three of the four chairs to form a makeshift bed in one of the corners. I killed some time watching chess and eventually, when I felt tired enough, used my jacket as a pillow and went to sleep.

4:45 - 5:20am

The librarian found me again. I woke up to a knocking on the window-slit of the study room's doorway. His face peered through. I growled inside, but did my best to shrug myself out of the sleep state I was just entering. I packed my things together and left.

I was supposed to continue this until Friday afternoon. That was the goal at least. However, due to the amount of sleep I've been getting (a total of ~3.5 hours in two days), I'm returning home. Finals are the following week and I can't afford to go into them on a mangled schedule.

 

Quick Reflection

Being homeless was more difficult than I expected. Naively, I anticipated being able to get a solid 6-8 hours of sleep on concrete in secluded places, or to easily avoid authorities inside the school's buildings. Clearly, that wasn't the case. I felt the basic prejudice against sleepers in the voice of the librarian that woke me on consecutive days and I felt the weight and baggage of my gear bearing down on me, altering choices that I normally would have made. And it was cold! I had to wear my jacket during the nighttime. My body was worn and my immune system was struggling, so keeping in heat was what I had to do. The cold also stopped me from sleeping on the rooftops- the sleep-sack I had was simply too thin and the wind cut right through. I know that there are students, both at the UA and at large, that attend school while living without a home. Man, it's a tough life. My wishes go out to them and the other homeless around our cities.

I understand why I see many people sleeping in the parks during the daytime. They can't get a good rest at night and the sun keeps them warm. The grass is soft and comfortable. The large sleeping bags and shopping carts people drag around contain what they need to get by, which is sometimes much more than a single pack. What if I needed to take drugs for a medical problem or if I had asthma or panic attacks?

There is this lady that always sleeps in the entryway of a nearby high school. She goes to sleep around 2:00-4:00am and curls up there for a couple hours before school starts. She has a couple of luggage bags she totes around. I wonder what her story is. I wonder if there is anything I can do. I've noticed her for a while now, but I've never known what to say or if I should approach her. Just being without a home for a couple of days has made me realize that I should approach her. I should start by breaking the invisible barrier that keeps people away from the homeless.

The next few days are my finals and then I am finished with school for the year. Afterward, it's time for me to get very serious about the MCAT.

Best,

Sam