Checking in

I turned 21 yesterday. Which makes me completely and utterly a legal adult. Like I’ve been for the past three weeks. A bit anticlimactic, that.

-On Tuesday I went to the Women in Spanish Theater class. I didn’t know where it was. The schedule said, “Aula Seminario.” The day before, I’d gotten lost looking for the Aula Seminario; when I’d asked one of the program leaders where it was, she’d told me that it was just upstairs. So I wandered around for a while on the second floor of the Facultad trying to find an aula (classroom) labeled Seminario. They all had numbers. I got farther and farther away, and finally wound up asking, and was sent downstairs to a secretary, who sent me back to the room that I’d started out from. Since this area still only contained Aula XX and Aula XXI, I was glad when the program leader I’d originally asked appeared so that I could ask her where the class was. She told me to go to Aula XX. I was puzzled (the classes in Aula XXI all said Aula XXI on the schedule), but was tired of wandering around, so I just went, and there was the class I was looking for.
So I was kind of dubious about this Aula Seminario business. Particularly since Aula XX was locked on Tuesday. Then the theater prof showed up, so I followed her, and discovered that the Aula Seminario really was “just upstairs” – you needed to go up the staircase in the PRESHCO office, not any of the other staircases. And there’s apparently a room on the third floor (or second, as they would say here). I had thought that it was just offices up there.

There was no one in the room. So the professor and I looked at each other a little awkwardly, and she gave me the syllabus. Eventually two other people showed up (they hadn’t known where the room was, either), but it was still awkward. Have I mentioned that PRESHCO classes need an enrollment of at least five people, or the class won’t run? I was just taking the class because I had thought that it looked interesting, and my feeling was basically, well, if this class doesn’t happen, then I won’t have to chose between it and Roman Andalusia, but I felt sorry for the other two girls, who needed to take literature classes to get credit or fulfill requirements, or something. The class was interesting (albeit awkward).

The next class was Archaeology. The Aula Seminario probably fits nine people with any reasonable degree of comfort. There were at least 14 of us crammed in there at the start of class – and no professor showed up. After a bit, Encarni (one of the PRESHCO-running-people) came up and told us that we were going on an excursion. There was a mixed response to this. I, personally, am I great fan of field trips and hadn’t gone on one is ages, but several people seemed to indicate that they would have preferred staying and being lectured at (goodness knows why). Encarni introduced us to the fellow who was going to take us on the field trip – who I did not recall having met, even though I think I had met the Archeology professor – and he led us on a roundabout trip through the streets of Córdoba, past my apartment building, to a random side street, where a van awaited up. Kona’s response was, “We aren’t getting into the unmarked van, are we? Oh, yes we are.” Kona amuses me. It was an interesting journey; we didn’t know where we were going, beyond “on an excursion” and “too far to walk.” I found myself hoping several times that the driver didn’t speak English; the comments about the sketchiness of the trip, while amusing, could well have been insulting. After a very long time (we were starting to wonder how much time we were going to have before we would need to turn back), we turned off the main road, bumped down a little road for a while, and pulled into a sort of warehouse-barn place. There were a circle of men sitting and rubbing or scrubbing things all in silence. And then they opened up a door and led us into a room filled with giant blocks that had been moved from a Roman ruin somewhere and were all labeled so that they could be put up somewhere else if they got the funding. We then moved into a different room filled with sections of mosaic floor on pallets, and a third filled with crates full of bags of things wrapped in newspaper. They opened one up and showed us some bones from an Arabic burial site, and then got out one of the smaller bits of mosaic and we passed it around. They then led us into yet another room filled with bits of pottery and it became clear what the men outside were scrubbing. All it all, it was pretty cool. At some point I’ll post pictures. Not right now. I’m busy uploading Córdoba and Sevilla pictures. And then we all got back in the van and rode home for lunch.

I don’t think that I did anything remarkable on Wednesday, beyond deciding, for a number of reasons, that I was going to stick with Roman Andalusia and not go back to the theater class. And I turned in paperwork. And discovered that there aren’t enough copies of the book I need to do homework reading for Monday in. I’m a little unmotivated in tracking a copy down; I haven’t had homework in ages. I should probably get on that. After I finish typing this up.

On Thursday I tried to apply for a Carnet Joven, a youth pass, a card that will allow me to get a cheaper price on a number of things, and which sounds like it might be useful. Only I didn’t leave quite enough time for it, so when I got lost in trying to find it (not terribly lost, but have I mentioned that they don’t believe in streetsigns here?) I decided that even though I had figured out where it was and might have time to walk there and back before class, I would be late to class if I had to spend any time at all in the office . . . (and this place is only open weekdays in the morning) I’ll go back on Tuesday, and this time I’ll leave it a good two hours, which will probably mean that I’m plenty early to class, but hey.

Yesterday I went to Sevilla. And turned 21. I have pictures to go with this and got around to uploading them. I think I’ll make a new post with pictures.

In other news, Ana, aka Pepi’s niece and my other housemate, is very nice, and I like her, and I think we’ll get along. Of course, she only arrived Monday night and she went back home for the weekend on Thursday, and she’s been very busy arranging her class schedule and catching up with her school friends, so we haven’t interacted terribly much as yet.



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8 responses to “Checking in

  1. So now a LEGAL adult…
    Congratulations! But it begs the question as to what sort of adult you were previously…???
    And what’s an adult doing with a youth pass? Sounds a bit ILLEGAL to me.
    I love the architecture of the places you visited later in the day (or later in your posts, since I’ve viewed the last couple posts from recent to oldest, I’m not sure if I’m discussing the past or future at this point.) In any case, the arches and tilework are very exotic.
    Excuse me now, while I contemplate the implications of being the parent of an adult…
    Love, Dad…

    • Re: So now a LEGAL adult…
      Perhaps I was a quasi-legal adult previously?
      As for what I’m doing with a youth pass, nothing, currently. I still haven’t got one yet. (It’s valid until I’m 26.)
      I think you’re talking about Sevilla – I liked the architecture there, too. I want to go back, which shouldn’t be too difficult.
      Okay, I’ll give you time to consider.

  2. Anonymous

    Isn’t archaeilogy GREAT!!! Sitting around in silence washing bits of pottery…sounds exciting to me. And who WOULDN’T want to go see a real dig instead of being lectured about it???
    The “no street signs” must be a foreign custom as they don’t believe in them in Greece either. The only reason we could find out hotel in Athens was because there was a HUGE construction crane that towered over the buildings located nearby. Find the crane and we could find our hotel. Just when you have things figured it out it will be time to come home.

    • YES. I’ve been taking lots of pictures; one of these days I’ll make an archeology post just for you.
      Well, they do believe in street signs in some places – the area right around my house (although not the one street for which I needed one), for example, and there seem to be a good number near where my host mother works (which is too far to walk to). To some extent, I can find my house by heading towards the Mosquita-Catedral – but the worst bits for getting lost in are the juderia, and there the streets are so narrow that you can’t see it. On the plus side, I do think that I’m getting better at it; today I struck out cross-country without using the map, and I had just thought, that last street took me too far to the left; I should go more to the right, or I’ll miss it – and I walked a block to the right and found the plaza I was heading for.

  3. Anonymous

    I had a similar problem (not finding a room) with my Italian class at the beginning of the year. I left not quite as early as I would have liked for the first class, and forgot to bring the bit of paper with the room number, so I (thought) I checked the class schedule by the door in Hatfield, and went racing up to the third floor–and found myself outside my professor’s office, a little puzzled and wondering for a moment or two why they were holding a class in an office. The head of the Italian department found me there and, after a moment or two of trying to explain (in Italian, which I hadn’t used all summer) where I intended to be, and why I was on the third floor instead, she worked out which class I wanted, and was heading there anyway. Turns out I was looking at (surprise, surprise) the list of offices, not the list of classes.
    Archeology field trips are definitely cool. Much better than a lecture.

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