And so it begins
I can´t remember the last time I spent the entire day in class. 9-5. Maybe never? It has certainly been at least 10 years since I have been actively learning for so many hours with barely a break to relax. Marvelous.
My accent is terrible, of course it is. If I were in Brasil it would be fine, but practically all vowel sounds in peninsular Portuguese are closed, and I just can´t seem to hear the difference. Ah well, I have only been at if for a few days. Finally feeling a bit settled in... the crazy casera who seemed mortified that we might ask for the use of a tiny corner of her kitchen, not to cook, but to refrigerate milk or stash a piece of bread for breakfast, has made a bit of a turn around and even offered us coffee this morning (which we declined, after paying the month´s rent). Kristina, my cohort and classmate from Minnesota and I have been exploring together, and we met another student Sarah, from Chicago yesterday who had discovered a few more interesting things about the city, primarily a free government sponsored internet café which remains open after the university´s lab shuts down, and a supermarket, where we bought bread and tetrapak milk in individual containers to hide in our bedrooms.
Food here is excessively inexpensive, complete student meals for between 1.90€ and 3€, and since I have found away to avoid the fries, I am feeling better about eating in general. What more to complain about then? I love the steep morning climb that leaves me slightly winded, but promises to get my leg muscles into the best shape they have seen in years. By the end of the day I was so tired from walking around the outskirts and sneaking in to the run down bairros, to take pictures of the ugliness too (difficult to find, but worth it in its quaint run-downedness) that my knees were wobbly and I felt lucky to not tumble down the last hills. I have terrible blisters on my toes and between them, and I realize that I shouldn´t have painted my toenails red because I have no acetone and I want to rid myself of them.
Mostly it has been so liberating this feeling of aloneness. I sat waiting for Kristina to come down the monumental steps for dinner, looking out over the city with a light misty fog rolling in, and just felt... what? Alive? Alone? Closer to something ineffable? Perhaps that is what it is, in love with the world once more.
My accent is terrible, of course it is. If I were in Brasil it would be fine, but practically all vowel sounds in peninsular Portuguese are closed, and I just can´t seem to hear the difference. Ah well, I have only been at if for a few days. Finally feeling a bit settled in... the crazy casera who seemed mortified that we might ask for the use of a tiny corner of her kitchen, not to cook, but to refrigerate milk or stash a piece of bread for breakfast, has made a bit of a turn around and even offered us coffee this morning (which we declined, after paying the month´s rent). Kristina, my cohort and classmate from Minnesota and I have been exploring together, and we met another student Sarah, from Chicago yesterday who had discovered a few more interesting things about the city, primarily a free government sponsored internet café which remains open after the university´s lab shuts down, and a supermarket, where we bought bread and tetrapak milk in individual containers to hide in our bedrooms.
Food here is excessively inexpensive, complete student meals for between 1.90€ and 3€, and since I have found away to avoid the fries, I am feeling better about eating in general. What more to complain about then? I love the steep morning climb that leaves me slightly winded, but promises to get my leg muscles into the best shape they have seen in years. By the end of the day I was so tired from walking around the outskirts and sneaking in to the run down bairros, to take pictures of the ugliness too (difficult to find, but worth it in its quaint run-downedness) that my knees were wobbly and I felt lucky to not tumble down the last hills. I have terrible blisters on my toes and between them, and I realize that I shouldn´t have painted my toenails red because I have no acetone and I want to rid myself of them.
Mostly it has been so liberating this feeling of aloneness. I sat waiting for Kristina to come down the monumental steps for dinner, looking out over the city with a light misty fog rolling in, and just felt... what? Alive? Alone? Closer to something ineffable? Perhaps that is what it is, in love with the world once more.
posted by ilana at 9:12 a.m.
1 Comments:
Dear Ila: Me alegra tanto que la estés pasando bien!! Para los blisters, se embadurna uno el pie en vaseline antes de salir a caminar y listo! o aplicate sulfadiaxina de plata, la venden en las farmacias over the counter.
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