Friday, June 26, 2009

The Last Day of School

I thought the last day of school would be an extremely sad day for me. But it wasn't. It was only a little sad.

The last day was a "festival" where many of the classes sang songs and did dances and the 6th graders graduated and left behind their most awkward years of physical growth. I spent the day playing with the kids and helping with the festival and it really felt no different from a normal day.

The day started with the graduation of the 5 year olds as they are leaving the "infant education" part of the school and going to the "elementary school" part of the school. They were pretty adorable and dressed in mock graduation outfits. Jessica pointed out that my school is very good at taking every opportunity to make the kids dress up and do things that they will later be embarrassed by.


My third graders sang three Beatles songs (Yellow Submarine, Yesterday, and All Together Now). They did a pretty good job with the lyrics and we were pretty pleased with their performance.



As you see in the video, we also seized the opportunity to make them dress up and put them in sailor outfits....toma!


But, as I said, the day passed like any normal day. I didn't even really get to say goodbye to the kids because they were so excited about the festival and didn't really understand that I was going for good. Alas, it may not be for good as I am going to try to come back to Madrid during the Christmas season next year and visit the school.

The main highlight of the day was that we had a lunch for all of the professors after school. Unfortunately, a lot of my good friends couldn't hang around but some of them were there. I gave a toast to all of the teachers and told them all thank you and said my goodbyes. Except they weren't really goodbyes because I just ate dinner with all of the ones that I'm friends with last night and we are also meeting for lunch next week. So the last day wasn't sad because I haven't said goodbye to anybody yet. But the time will come, and along with it, the tears.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

A Bad Case of Lastitis

What is Last-itis you ask? We'll it's constantly thinking that this is the last time you will do thing X. And I can feel a bad case of it coming on. I've got a little more than a month left of this adventure but I only have three more days left at work. Most people would be thinking "F Yeah!" but I've loved my work this year. Not necessarily loved what I do but more so who I do it with and the fact that it's with kids.

My coworkers have been amazing and are a huge reason why I've enjoyed my time in Spain so much. Being able to relate and have real relationships with Spanish people has made me feel just that much more Spanish myself. Likewise, spending lots of time with my Spanish family has led to so many long conversations about the past, the family (which is VERY large), and life in general.

This whole experience has been so refreshing that it pains me to think about giving it up. I seriously get sad thinking about having to say goodbye for good to some of these people - to some of the kids and even some of my coworkers who I may never see again. It's been a while since I've felt like a goodbye was forever because at Princeton you see everyone again, especially those that you want to see again. And high school before that was the same. So saying goodbye to some of these people "me va a dar algo" as they say in Spain (meaning that you'll get choked up kind of).

So my case of Lastitis has started really early and I find myself missing Spain long before I'm even packing my bags.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The French Riviera

Wow. Blogging is getting harder and harder these days. Perhaps it's because there are only a handful of people who actually read what I write. Perhaps it's because I'm lazy. Either way, pictures available on facebook.

The French Riviera. When I heard that phrase in the past, I always thought to myself, what a grandiose place. Meaning, "hey, french riviera, get over yourself." But, I really do think that it lived up to all the hype. All the fancy shops, fancy restaurants, ritzy places and other grandiose things were counterbalanced by beautiful scenery, quaint streets, and overall extremely friendly people. In fact, the most unfriendly person we encountered may have been the Prince of Monaco who declined our invitation to get schwasted and roam the city of Monte Carlo.


Anyways, the trip started in London with a 5 hour layover that lasted 5 lifetimes. London has the reputation of having horrible weather, all the time. I had previously assumed that this was limited to outdoor areas but the London Lutton airport quickly corrected that misconception by exposing its patrons to the coldest conditions in the transportation business since the Titanic (da dun chsshhh). After nearly escaping death by freezing, we made it to our hostel in Nice at around 10 pm.


We immediately set out for an American-style bar called "Wayne's" which was well known for its reputation of having more people dancing on tables than on the floor. Perfect. We passed the night with a few drinks watching the many drunk Americans doing what they do best. Jessica managed to make friends with a 60+ year old Bulgarian woman who was going nuts on the tables. Surprise, surprise...


The next day we went to a small mountain town called Vence. We were actually trying to stay in the town "St.Paul d'Vence" but something got lost in translation and we made a hotel reservation in the nearby but obviously distinct town of "Vence". Luckily, Vence was a cute town and boasted the only giant statue of a dove/pigeon that i have ever had the pleasure to see. Plus our hotel was amazing and came fully stocked with things such as purple sheets, a green bathroom, and a lounge cat.


We went out to dinner at a really nice french restaurant and had some amazing food. The food in the south was a mix of French and Italian food and we had some really impressive dishes of gnocchi and scallops and a cornucopia of other delights.


We made it to St. Paul d'Vence for a few hours the next day on our way back to Nice. It was a really pretty town with tiny streets and lots of flowers. There wasn't really anything to do there so Jessica temporarily quelled her insatiable appetite for sweets with a crepe (on a cannon, not to be confused with Christ on a bike).


The night that followed was poorly planned, poorly executed, and epic. The plan was to go to Monaco, a place where we could not afford to stay in a hotel. So that meant we were going to leave all of our stuff in a locker in the Nice train station and spend the night in Monaco, not going to sleep. We bought food for a picnic dinner and rum and mixers to save money as well. One poor choice in particular was the downfall of the entire night. Let me explain.

(Jessica changing clothes in a photobooth in the Nice train station)

When we got off the bus we walked around to some very pretty gardens and to the palace of the Prince of Monaco. We stopped in a small garden near the palace to eat and start to drink. Upon opening the bottle of rum we realized that we had made a grave mistake. Buying a 6 euro bottle of rum was a poor decision. After saving money by not eating at a restaurant and not getting a hotel room, we should have thought about classing it up and buying the 10 euro rum. But, stingy is a hard thing to give up and we paid for it. The rum was terrible and left us with some pretty wretched hang overs.


Anyways, life goes on, sort of. We went to the casinos and did our thing but the nightlife in Monte Carlo was not what we expected. We both got really tired around 4 AM so we decided to go find a place to sleep until the 6 AM bus came. In a half-daze, we wandered all the way back to the garden next to the palace and passed out on the benches there. I kid you not when i say that the palace is up a huge hill that must have taken a half hour to walk up but that didn't enter our half asleep minds.


We caught the 6 AM bus but I quickly decided that I didn't belong on the bus. Taking the turns along this windy coastal road did not agree with me or my stomach and I barely managed to run off the bus to vomit. Out with the bad. This, of course, was after contemplating relieving my stomach into Jessica's cloth travel bag. Long story short, we fell asleep on the bench and managed to miss the next bus, giving us a cumulative hour long wait.

When we got back to Nice we went to the beach to sleep off the poor choices of the previous night. We were rudely interrupted by what appeared to be an Indian wedding party shouting and screaming and being generally loud all around us. Jessica managed to get really burned bring the poor choice count up just a smidgen. We both managed to recover slightly. The rest of the day was a wash. Nothing bad, nothing great.


However, it was this night that we decided on the Chicken Plan of 2009 which consisted of buying a rotisserie chicken and eating it on the beach for dinner the next day. And we did just that, but not without our fare shares of close calls.

When the time came to carry out the Chicken Plan of 2009, we were ready. We walked to the hole in the wall meat store and salivated in the direction of the full rotisserie, spinning delightfully with at least 15 golden chickens. Of course the butcher/15 year old boy only spoke French but we managed to understand that the chickens weren't ready yet, they needed 30 more minutes to slowly and deliciously turn in circles and drip glorious juices. So we went to a nearby plaza to wait. I didn't want to go back right at thirty minutes so i tricked Jessica into waiting 35. When she found out, she furiously exclaimed "What if there's a Chicken Blowout and there's none left!". As we picked up the pace and rounded the corner, we saw the rotisserie, nearly devoid of delicious-looking birds. Thankfully, there was one left and we snagged him just in time, right before a hippie couple tried to get him.


We continued to the beach and had ourselves a (winner winner) Chicken Dinner despite the near-atrocities of the Chicken Blowout of 2009.


We left Nice the next morning and headed back to Madrid via the ice palace of the London Lutton airport. To take our mind off the cold, this time we decided to watch Slumdog Millionaire (great movie by the way). We got a little absorbed in the movie and ended up heading towards our gate about 10 minutes before departure. We quickly learned that this was a bad idea when we showed up at the gate and they told us that we had missed our flight. I called them on their bullshit and they kindly made a call to the airplane and opened the door again for us. Crisis averted, we arrived in Madrid, safe and sound.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

La Riviera Francesa

Para que sepáis la razón de este viaje, Jessica y yo hemos pasado los dos años juntos y queríamos celebrar el aniversario de verdad. Así que hemos planeado un viaje a Niza para visitar la costa al sur de Francia. Podeís ver algunas fotos en la parte de la riviera francesa en inglés y en facebook.

Para llegar a Niza, tuvimos que volar hacia Londres y luego hacia Niza. Para ahorrar dinero, cogimos algunos vuelos más baratos que nos dieron una escala de 5 horas durante la ida y la vuelta en Londres. De repente, volábamos por el aeropuerto Lutton que está de 1.5 horas a la ciudad y no podíamos hacer nada de turismo allí. Pues nos quedábamos en el aeropuerto para lo que sentaba como un eterno. Para hacer un poco más daño, el aeropuerto estaba completamente helado y allí pasábamos un frio que te pelas. Lo peor era que el único enchufe que funcionaba estaba alado del chisme que produce el aire acondicionado. Así que allí estuvimos con un frio que te cagas viendo los últimos capítulos de la temporada tres de Héroes. Como te puedes imaginar, salimos de Londres cagando tomates.

Bueno, llegamos a Niza por la noche, encontramos el hostal sin problemas y salimos de marcha como los españoles que ya somos. Encontramos un bar que se llama “Wayne’s” y es un bar en plan Americano que tenía un grupo de música que tocaba los éxitos de los años ochenta y noventa. Se dice que en Wayne’s hay más gente bailando encima de las mesas que en el suelo. Nos divertíamos mogollón viendo a gente borrachísima y bailando a la música como locos.

El primer día pasábamos el tiempo en Niza haciendo un poco de turismo y andando por la ciudad. La costa allí es un milagro, desde las colinas cubiertas con casitas preciosísimas hasta la playa construida completamente de piedras pequeñas, sin ninguna miga de arena. Para ver un poco del paisaje, hemos decidido pasar la noche en un pueblito que se llama Vence. El viaje en autobús tardaba tres cuartos de hora y nos llevaba entre algunos paisajes magnificentes.

Esta noche era mi favorita porque era la verdadera celebración de nuestro aniversario. Cenamos en un sitio muy bueno que ofreció un menú con dos platos y un postre y todo estuvo ricisimo. Comimos muy bien y volvimos a casa para ver el ultimo capitulo de Héroes (vaya celebración era, te juro!).

Una nota sobre la comida de esta zona de Francia - me sorprendió pero como vi, mucha de la comida tiene una gran influencia de Italia. Había un montón de cosas como pizza y lasaña y más que eran del estilo Niceno.

El siguiente día, visitábamos un pueblo cercano que se llama San Paul de Vence y tiene unas calles muy estrechas con flores. Es muy pintoresco. Después de pasando unas horas en este pueblito, volvimos a Niza para empezar una noche impresionante. El plan era para pasar la noche en Mónaco. Pero como puedes creer, Mónaco es un sitio muy caro y no tenemos suficiente dinero para pagar para un hotel allí. Pues pusimos las mochilas en la consigna de la estación de trenes y fuimos a Mónaco con la cena, la bebida y la máquina de fotos para trasnochar y divertirnos en el país más pequeño del mundo (menos el vaticano).

Pasábamos fenomenal andando y viendo unos jardines preciosos y la costa de Mónaco. Empezamos de cenar y beber a las nueve en un jardín alado del palacio del príncipe de Mónaco. El no quiso salir con nosotros pues cenamos solos. Lo que olvidábamos era comprar un alcohol que costaba más que seis euros. Así que el “Rhum” que tuvimos estaba malísimo. Casi no lo podíamos beber. Pero nos emborrachábamos allí alado del príncipe y salimos a los casinos de Monte Carlo para gozar en el ambiente de ellos. Era ahora cuando Jessica perdió la habilidad de animarse y la tenía que animar yo. Y te juro que esto era un trabajo muy duro. Al final, fuimos a un bar completamente lleno de gente mayor que 45 anos para bailar. Salimos de allí para buscar un sitio para dormir a las 4 de la mañana. Al final, en nuestro estado un poco perdido, volvimos al jardín del príncipe para dormir en unos bancos allí. Levantamos a las seis para coger el autobús hacia Niza. Como en mi juventud, mi estomago no estaba alucinado de estar en un vehículo poco predicable y tuvimos que bajar para que pude “recuperar”. Otra vez nos pusimos a dormir y perdimos el siguiente autobús y tuvimos que esperar una hora entera. Mala suerte…

Pasábamos el día siguiente en la playa durmiendo como vagabundos. Jessica, como que no tiene la sangre española, ha quemado mucho y salió de la playa con su frente completamente rojo y su espalda blanca. Este día nos pasó rápidamente y sin mucha animación.

No hacíamos muchas cosas el último día porque no había tanto para hacer y no queríamos ir a Cannes. Así que andábamos por las calles y hacíamos un poco de turismo mientras gozábamos el ambiente de la Riviera Francés. El momento cumbre del día fue la cena en que planeábamos hacer unos bocadillos con pollo asado comprado de una rotisería. Cuando llegamos a la tienda nos dijeron en francés que tardaba 30 minutos más para asar todo el pollo. Volvíamos 35 minutos después y solo había un pollo, un pollo dorado como los tesoros de las aztecas. Comíamos el pollo precioso en la playa y volvíamos a casa.

Más que esto, no ocurrió nada importante entre Niza y Madrid. Menos que casi perdimos el vuelo en Londres y tenían que llevarnos al avión personalmente, llegamos sin problemas. Era un viaje magnifico.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

A Family Picnic and Chris Leaves


Chris left Spain last week. He finished up early and went home to spend some time with the fam before heading off to do his masters at Maryland in August. In his honor, and to get the whole family together, we had a picnic in the mountains outside of Madrid.

The picnic was amazing, great food, fun, and a really relaxing day. I seriously love my family here in Spain and I am finally feeling like a part of it all. To be able to sit and talk and feel like a part of the family is something I've never been able to do until this year and it is something I am now very thankful for.

From the following picture, you can basically tell that I fit in with the family, at least the youngins.


It's sad that Chris has left us and the apartment definitely won't be the same without him. In fact, it may be a little dirtier and the fridge a little more empty. But, alas, life goes on and you've got to enjoy the time that you have because eventually you're going to go to graduate school and sign your life away. Oh, wait, thats just me...

Saturday, May 30, 2009

5 Things I Love About Madrid

I hope everyone is enjoying Princeton Reunions without me. But I'm in Madrid, and This Is Why I Love It...

1) Nothing matters.

Seriously. Almost nothing matters in this country. It's a blessing and a curse. But, I love it. The lifestyle is one of a kind. On a Thursday evening you can find 40 year old people in suits sitting outside calmly drinking beer until midnight. It may be more common to pee on the street than to pee in a toilet. People take a 45 minute break to "eat breakfast" about 1.5 hours after they get to work. You can drink on the street and it doesn't matter that it's against the law. And the whole country basically takes the month of August off of work.. Of course, this all has an evil twin brother which goes like this:
Ryan solicits his Spanish Nationality in mid-February. The people pushing papers tell Ryan to wait about 2 months for it to be finished. Ryan waits and waits and eventually begins calling to figure out why it isn't finished. They don't give him any information. Ryan then goes in person with his Aunt and waits in line forever (while three of the workers leave at 10:30 to get breakfast). Then they tell Ryan that the papers didn't arrive in the proper building until early April, thus taking about a month and a half to travel the distance of about an hours walk away. But the lifestyle is still amazing.

2) The Language

The Spanish Language has many things that the English language doesn't. Obviously this goes both ways but I think Spanish is, in general, more fun to speak. Little phrases, diminutives, and to-the-point slang and swear words make conversation funnier and more interesting. There is a common phrase to say just about everything in Spanish. For example, one of the sayings that always comes to mind, taught to me by non-other-than my father - "teta, la que en la mano quepa" which means that the best boob is the one that fits in the hand, anything more is excess.

3) The Food

This is, in large part, due to my family because my grandmother and aunt's are all amazing cooks. We eat at their house about three times per week and it's always the best food we can get. From simple things like sandwiches, to more complex Spanish meals like garbanzos estofados, it's always amazing. Plus my grandma has gotten into the habit of making us her homemade tomato sauce every week which is probably one of the 7 modern wonders of the world.

4) The Nightlife

It's great to live in a city. I've never lived in a place that is going 24/7 and you can do anything anytime (except during lunch time and on Sundays, and in the month of August (see section "Nothing Matters")). Where we live, in the center of the city, there is any type of disco playing any type of music within a 20 minute walk. You can drink on the walk there, you can drink on the metro there and you can sneak drinks in, making the night cheap and amazing. Something that is unique to Spain is the time span of a normal night. People will go to small bars or drink at home/in a plaza until around 2 or 3 pm. Then the clubs fill up and people stay until they close around 6 or 7 AM. By this time, the metro has started up again and everyone heads back home to sleep until lunch the next day, aka 3 pm.

5) Adorable Children aka Denisa

So, I basically have 2 girlfriends now in Madrid. One is Jessica, 23 years old, 5 foot 6ish, blonde hair, green eyes. The other is Denisa, 5 years old, 3 feet tall, brownish hair, adorable, and entirely and irrevocably embarrassed around me. She actually just turned 5. Which was a big day for both of us. Anyways, Denisa fell in love with me (and I with her) at the Christmas Festival for my school. Ever since, she has been intensely embarrassed when around me and very shy. This week, for her birthday, I did a big first and bought my first pair of jewelery for a girl - a 1 euro bracelet with a silver chain and blue "stones". I gave it to her on her birthday - well I went out to the playground, she tried to hide, I called her out and talked to her in Spanish, gave her the bracelet and she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek in return and hasnt stopped showing it to everyone in the school since. She is so adorable and I really just wish that she wasn't so shy around me because then we could have so much fun together! So this isnt really about Madrid at all but i had to put it in.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

A Tale of Two Kitties

Not by Charles Dickens. Meaning, not incredibly boring.

About a month ago, my Mom contacted an advertisement for calico kittens. This is about 8 months after our last cat, Molly, died. So, my mom shotgunned one kitten and started to wait until the creature was old enough to leave its mother. Over the course of a few weeks, the kitten, Lucy, grew from an odd looking ball of fuzz into an adorable precious little thing.


When my mother went to pick up the new kitten, she found out that some other people bailed on their adoption of another kitten in the litter so she adopted the two of them. So she came home with two little bundles of joy and set to work making them their new home. Over the course of the week, they became more and more confident with their new domain and began to settle in.

The second kitten, named Gabby due to her gregarious approach to life, was very active and constantly playing with something, whether it was sitting in front of the computer screen and following the cursor as my dad moved the mouse or repeatedly biting Lucy's tail.


Well. Life was seeming pretty perfect for my parents until the vet brought some bad news. Apparently, both kittens tested positive for FIV, feline immunodeficiency virus. The current theory is that their mother got knocked up by some street cat who had seen one too many corners. There is a 50% chance that the mother passes the infection to the kittens but there is no way to differentiate between presence of the virus and presence of the antibodies. So, we aren't 100% sure that they have the virus. But, in the end, we decided it was better to return the kittens to their previous owner who said they will take care of them because kittens with the virus dont live much over a year or so.

So, my parents are, again, kittenless. Poor little things. The kittens of course.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

10 Days of Glory

I'm still in shock from the last 10 days of amazingness that 3 Texans brought into the Iberian Peninsula. Charlotte and two of Jessica's good friends from Tech, Jamie and Shawn, came to visit us for "10 days". Although the "10 days" was only really 8, we made the most of the time we had.


They arrived on Friday morning and we flew out to Barcelona on Saturday morning. Shawn said "Swine flu Schmine flu" and came to Spain with a large infection on his ankle which quickly began to spread. Either due to the infection, a lack of sleep, or being way to happy for words, Shawn was down for the count for the first 24 hours, spending most of it feverish in the hostel - a fate I wouldn't have wished upon anyone in that hostel, not even our favorite Zimbabwean (pray she doesn't stalk my blog).


With Shawn TKO'd, Char and Jamie did a little sight seeing while Jessica and I napped in a park having done it all before and not wanting to pay again. We bought some goods for the night and headed back to the hostel. We grabbed dinner at the "PitaInn" which boasted the sale of a PizzaCone which turned out to be less impressive than hoped but still ranked among the top 10 inventions of the past half-century.


Shortly there after, we began our night at the statue of Columbus with a "botellón". We drank just about the entire contents of the bottle of rum between the four of us by playing "Tails Never Fails" - shout out to Jon. We then proceeded to a nearby club that we thought would be decent. We made many a stops along the ten minute walk including climbing a palm tree and peeing in a moat.


Just before arriving at the club, I walked past a very familiar face and did a double take. Upon confirmation, I scurried away to inform Charlotte that Victor Noskov of Forbes Inn fame had just walked by. I quickly changed into Hot Pursuit mood and began screaming "VIC! VIC!" which resulted in the awkward reunion of him not recognizing me. Woooooops. Anyways, he took us to a house party and we hung out for a bit and then peaced back to the streets of Barcelona.


We spent the rest of the night on the street doing what we do best and ended the night at a doner kebap stand to kick our early morning tummy growls. When we woke up the next morning, Shawn was cured and we were ready to rock out at the Dali museum in Figueres.


I had been to the museum before but it was still pretty fantastic. I wish I understood more of the paintings and his motifs but the aesthetic appeal was still enough to get me through a second time. Everyone seemed to really enjoy it, probably because Dali was and is posthumously a badass.


We finished out Barcelona and came back to Madrid for the remainder of their trip. For the most part, Jessica and I had to work while they did their own thing in the city. However, Charlotte was able to come along with the third grade class on our field trip to the Madrid Zoo and Aquarium. It was a pretty great success.


Charlotte immediately became the object of interest for all of the adorable third grade girls and was walking through the zoo holding hands with a line of 5 girls. Georgina, one of the smartest ones, quickly realized she was capable of holding Charlotte's hand and mine at the same time and capitalized. She also learned the pouty lip pose in a matter of seconds. This picture pretty much sums up why she is my favorite third grader.


Fast forwarding a little, we all went out on Thursday night to a club called Joy Eslava. I found the place to be teeming with slightly creepy really aggressive guys, much more so than the other clubs I've been to in Madrid. But we had ourselves a good time and went home around 6:30 like the Spanish do.


Friday was a holiday in Spain called San Isidro who is the patron saint of Madrid. We had a big lunch with the family and went walking around to see some of the festivities. Then we came home and cooked some tapas for dinner and played Taboo. Just a relaxed night.

It may have been the eggs in a basket that we cooked or it may have been something else but Jess got deathly ill on Saturday and was bedridden like Shawn on day 1....sweatin in her underpants.


Saturday was their last day in town. They spent a large part of it shopping and walking around. At night we went to Kapital, our obvious favorite night club with 7 stories and a wealth of things to do. We had an awesome time, all the while missing Jessica, and ended the night with Churros con Chocolate at the Churreria San Gines. We, again, made it till la madrugada and arrived safely at home at 7:30.


The weekend was amazing. It was a reminder of how much I miss my friends from Princeton and of how big of a part of my life they all were and are. It was so great to see Charlotte and to just have some time to talk and joke and live it up.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Bibione 2009 - Destiny Manifested

Bibione is a place in Italy. It is a beach town in northern Italy near Venice. It is also the name of a beach ultimate tournament held in said town every year. As stated earlier in the blog, the young American frisbee players that are living in Spain were rounded up and formed into a team, named Manifest Destiny, to compete at this tournament.

After a much anticipated weekend of ultimate, I can say that Bibione was one of the most enjoyable frisbee tournaments in which I have played. All of the players on the team could hold their own, which is unheard of in Spanish ultimate, and everyone was on the same page in terms of having fun, repping the USA and being outrageous. Let me run back some highlights.

We arrive in Bibione after a 2 hour plane ride and a 4 hour drive to the site of the rest of our team carrying casses of "Hell Bier" apparently exported from Hell itself. Great start to the weekend. We went to bed at a decent hour and woke up ready to kick some ass.


We had four games on Friday and won all four with minimal difficulty save a few minutes of the first game. We got straight into the American Spirit and started drawing tatoos on ourselves with sharpies. I elected to have two guns drawn on my abdomen looking like they were holstered into my beautifully short red shorts.


Friday night saw the rebirth of "Tales Never Fails" but this time everyone joined Jon and I in the fun and got really into it. Highlight of TNF part 2 were a collective effort in guessing 12 flips correctly (two of which were Jon who, of course, only guessed tails). I think there is a 1 in 4096 chance for this to happen which is pretty sweet. Another highlight of the night was Chris getting 9 in a row WRONG which is the exact equivalent of getting 9 in a row right which would have been awesome but was the opposite of what he actually accomplished. Another interesting part of the night was the discovery that I've never known the proper way to flip a coin and for my entire life have been flipping coins in an extremely difficult way. wooooops.


Saturday morning pitted us against the number 1 seed in the tournament, the Bavarian National Team. We were super pumped to play them due to a pregame speach by Dutch about the American work ethic which inspired some hilarious exclamations from Jon on sideline. Either way, we creamed some Bavarians (pun intended) and won 13 to 6. We had two somewhat difficult games against two other German teams but came out on top both times, effectively teaching all the Germans that history repeats itself and that you shouldn't mess with the US. These wins put us in the semifinals where we, again, had to play the Bavarians on Sunday morning.

Regardless, we had ourselves a good time on Saturday night. I was really sick all weekend so I offered to be DD for the night. This, however, required me to learn how to drive a stick. So after 30 minutes of training with Kyle, I was ready. My impecable sense of direction got us to the dinner and club but we were too early to go in. Soooooo we started playing this game that we learned from another team at the tournament. It involved german pornstar expressions such as "Scheizer en ma mund" and "up zuh poopah" and "nein" and "wunderbad" (spelling definitely phonetic). Myself, Chris, and Justin were all wearing cutoff jean dazie dukes to get the party rolling and when we tried to enter the club, the bouncers told Justin he wasnt allowed in but let both Chris and I pass. So Justin stayed outside until we could find a pair of pants.


When he joined us, we started the party off right by taking over the corner of the club that had the pole dancing pole and warmed that baby up. We pole danced for a few hours and left extremely contented.

We faced the Bavarians again Sunday morning. The outcome was the same but this time the game was much closer, allowing us to advance to play in the finals against a strong and athletic Dutch team. We played our asses off and came out on top, 13-9. Thus, a team of Americans who are average players in the states joined forces for one tournament and beat the shit out of Europe.


It is the first tournament I've won so it felt damn good. On top of it all, the group of people on the team were fantastic and hilarious. It's hard to put it all to words but, rest assured, Bibione was an awesome time.

Facebook pictures available here.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Tails Never Fails

For those of you that don't know, my brother and I are going to a beach ultimate tournament in Italy this coming weekend. The team is named Manifest Destiny and is formed of people from the United States that are overseas and in dire need of some real intense ultimate (unlike the ultimate scene here in Spain). So we formed this team of randos and are going to take the European ultimate scene by storm.


However, since the team is of randos and we've only played against each other, we decided to hold a convention, much like that held in Philadelphia by our founding fathers, to lay the bricks of the team and get to know each other. This convention, The Santander Convention of 2009, was held in Santander. There were 10 of 12 members in attendance and it is highly probable that the convention was more successful than the Constitutional Convention of 1787.

We arrived on Friday and played a little pickup with the team from Santander. We followed it up with a low-key taco dinner and a lot of talking.

Saturday promised poor weather and it delivered in the morning. Rainy and a bit chilly, we practiced from 11 until 2 and, had picnic under the thick cloud cover. We scrimmaged all afternoon against local teams from 4 until 8 pm. A super intense day of frisbee which was followed by an equally exciting night...

The night began at Decathlon, the Spanish version of Sports Authority. We went in search of uniform clothes for the team. We settled on the idea of red short shorts and white wifebeaters. We bought the entire stock of red short shorts but failed to find any suitable wifebeaters. Not dismayed, we bought beer and made the night happen...some of us more than others.

In a stroke of pure genius, Jon of Grand Rapids Michigan, invented a drinking game requiring nothing more than a coin. The object is to guess the outcome of the coin. You must guess correctly at least twice in a row. Until you do so you must drink for every failure. Once you make it to two, you may pass to the next person. What you pass is a number of drinks. So you automatically pass at least 2 drinks. However, if you are feeling lucky, you can keep going after two and pass more drinks. Jon and I got super into the game and ended up drinking quite a bit. The game rightfully became known as "Tails Never Fails" when Jon took this slogan to heart and refused to guess anything but tails. However seemingly boring this may sound, it was a blast.


All in all, the weekend was a great warm up for Bibione and everyone was psyched to beat up on some Europeans.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Birthday Weekend

This weekend was many things. But most importantly, it was interesting. One of Jessica's good friends from Kent, Jason, came into Madrid for the weekend. Jason is an interesting guy but one of his most interesting qualities is an intense love for Taco Bell. This longing for TBell is made all the more unexpected by the fact that he was a vegan and is now (due to living in Europe which is not vegan-friendly) a vegetarian. So what this really means is that he loves Taco Bell Bean and Cheese burritos.


Rumors had been tossed around in his social circle that there exist 3 Taco Bells in Europe, one of them being in Madrid. Well, after some intense Google searching and the scrutiny of a Wikipedia article on Taco Bell, we discovered the location of the Madrid Taco Bell. With our hearts set on success, we set out to begin our first foray into the "Make a Wish Foundation" business. After the hour and a half journey, we arrived in front of what seemed to be the gates of Heaven as seen through Jason's eyes.


Taco Bell here is not as cheap as in the states but it definitely was tasty. Plus the added bonus that you are able to buy a beer with your meal made for a very good lunch. After spending way too much money at Taco Bell and making a dream come true for Jason who had been in TBell withdrawal for 3 months, we made the hour and a half trip back home and proceeded to pass out for 2 and a half hours.


We eventually woke up and began cooking a nice dinner. We invited Emily and Dan (our British friends) over and played an intense and heated round of kings after the fact. We have invented a new rule called Jack Attack which allows you to arm wrestle the person of your choice, loser drinks. After I had made Dan my mate, Jason was forced to arm wrestle the two of us at once, one on each arm. He won that battle but he lost the war when Jessica and I showed him how we role in Spain and beat him two against one arm...sucker.

We went out with Laura and Manuel afterwards and had a good night out in sudo-celebration of my birthday.


All in all the weekend was overshadowed by the trip to Taco Bell and going out with Manuel and Laura - two things that are not to be taken lightly.

P.S. Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes. It's nice to be remembered.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Walk like an Egyptian

This post is very long but if you have time, I hope you read it. I think its worthwhile.

The trip to Egypt was long but relatively hassle free. We snuck in on the weight limit with our bag and had relatively uneventful flights from Madrid to Milan and then Milan to Cairo.

Arriving in Cairo was, well, pretty nuts and NOT hassle free. More like hassleFUL. Everyone wants to sell you something really badly. The airport looks pretty old and unkempt and everyone is doing something. We changed money, bought our visa, found our checked bag and began to ask questions about how to get to the bus station to catch the bus we needed to get to our resort in Hurghada (500 km away).

We were first told to go to some random place which didn’t work out too well. We were then told to wait outside of this random part of the airport for a minibus that would take us to the bus station. After a few minutes of waiting, I found an Egyptian tour guide who pointed us in the direction of “the bus station” which was within walking distance. But it wasn’t the right bus station. After a big run around, a taxi ride from an unofficial taxi, haggling with the guy at the ticket office, and a three hour wait at the Al Mahza bus station in the ghetto of Cairo, we got on our bus to Hurghada. We arrived at 6 AM to our hotel, feeling quite accomplished.

The location on the Red Sea is outstanding. The water is pristine and the beach is nice. The hotel looks really nice but the facilities aren’t the best. Example number 1 - Jess took a nap when we got in but I just went to the beach. We had flushed the toilet once between arriving and her taking a nap. She was repeatedly woken up by knocks at the door and telephone calls saying “Cleaning. Cleaning”. Logically we didn’t need cleaning as we had only been there 10 minutes. Finally someone called and said “Turn off your water.” So jess went out into the living room and saw that the entire bathroom and kitchen were flooded. The ensuing mess of 5 or 6 hotel staff staring at the floor of our room earned us a new, not cracked toilet bowl and a good thorough floor mopping.

We spent the day on the beach in the 85 degree weather and loving life. It’s been kind of a hassle so far but definitely worth it. One of the worst parts is that there are tons of people associated with different tourist services (diving, massages, etc) that walk the beaches and bother the hell out of you and seriously won’t leave you alone. Even when we tell them we are Spanish and don’t like saunas or massages they say “Well, maybe you like sauna sometimes” and continue to try to deliver their sales pitch which is absolutely insane.

Day two proved to be action packed. Back in the good old land of Espana, Jessica bought a thong bathing suit with the hopes of sporting it on the beaches of Egypt. As a joke, I brought along my man thong so that we could “thong it together”. Well one thing led to another and I found myself wearing a man thong on the beach. And, let me tell you, two thongs definitely make a right. Throughout the whole day of searching, I found myself unable to locate a single other male wearing a man thong, making me the skimpiest of the crowd, which is saying something considering they are all Europeans.

Day two also saw some very sketchy moments with resort staff. First, we made friends with a guy named Walleed, which sounds extremely close to “WALLE” from the movie. BFFAEAE now. Anyways, he asked us if there was anything we needed help with and we told him that we had been looking for a bottle of alcohol and couldn’t find any stores that sell alcohol of any type. He replies “No problem. I talk to my brother. No problem. Very cheap. I come to your room in 30 minutes”. Well much much later we get a phone call from Walleed and the deal commences. He comes in once, and uses our room phone to call someone. Then he leaves and comes back with a 1 liter bottle of rum. He claims that it costs 250 Egyptian Pounds (LE). This is equivalent to 33 Euros. Which may be in the area of 45 dollars. We say, no way, that’s way too much, the most we would pay is 150, which is 20 Euros. Then, his friend comes in with a fruit plate which is a gift for us for buying the rum. So we refuse the rum and try to refuse the fruit plate but they demand that we keep the fruit plate. Then 2 minutes later, Walleed comes back and is like “Ok.150. But only because you are my brother and she (Jess) is my sister.” So we give him the money and a little tip and send him on his way. The bottle of rum says “Especially for All Inclusive Hotels” on it, leading us to believe that he stole the rum. At least ¼ of the fruit is rotten, leading us to believe that Walleed is not quite the Brother we once thought he was. But alas, we have a bottle of rum and will be hitting the local dance club soon.


Day three felt like day 15 which was awesome because the time here seems to pass slowly but in a very good way. More thong tanning, more annoying guys on the beach, a little more Walleed, and a lot more sun made for a great day. Perhaps the most eventful part of the day was attempting to get plates to use in our room because we aren’t All Inclusive and need to eat some food. After asking twice at reception, Jess went back again and complained. They told her to get them from one of the restaurant’s cafes who then told her that she had to call the housing services. After at least an hour total, a housing services guy comes to the door. I was in the middle of making tuna sandwiches so Jess answered the door. He asks her, “Can I help you?” So she logically tells him that we want two glasses and two plates. Then he turns to me and asks “Can I help you?” as if to ask if I needed help fixing up lunch. He brings the glasses, then leaves, then brings the plates. He lingers in our room far too long saying “Is everything ok? Is everything ok?” and we are like “yea dude, but don’t think you are getting a tip for taking 3 hours to bring us plates” and then finally, after a super awkward 20 seconds, he leaves. Even if he had helped with the tuna sandwiches, I still wouldn’t have tipped him…

P.S. It is important to note that the term for tipping for a service is “Baksheesh” and I will continue to use this term throughout this story and my life.


Monday was a day of rest as we prepared for our big adventure on Tuesday – a snorkeling tour. However, we did attempt to do a little shopping and while perusing the contents of a basket full of stickers and temporary tattoos, a store worker approached us with this: “Hey, *smooch smooch sound* are you married or just friends? How about you make a little kiss for me?” I hope you can imagine that we threw down the would-be spoils and walked out. This brings me to a major topic about Egypt – people that could potentially sell you a product or a service are totally obnoxious and, in general, assholes. They really do try to get as much money out of you as possible, with no shame involved. More to come – see “Tuesday – Sunday”

Tuesday = Schnorkul

We went on a snorkeling tour to Giftun Island, which was an island paradise with beautiful fish and crystal clear water. I say WAS because Captain Planet was not hired as one of the crew members of the “General”, nor did he fancy a guest appearance on our Dutch-infested vessel (Stu was there though). In the middle of one of the most beautiful oceans I have been on, one of the crew members dropped a crate full of glass bottles onto the deck. Most of the bottles broke, some only a little bit. In front of my very own astonished eyes, the crew hurried to destroy the evidence by, why of course, sweeping the hundreds of pieces of broken glass into the ocean. We we ended up contacting a conservation and preservation group and reporting them because they were horrible. They disrupted parts of the reefs looking for conch shells and even threw other trash from the boat into the water. But, I make such a big deal about this only because the waters were pristine and the fish, impressive.

After our big day Tuesday, we got set to have a big night. We started with a fabulous three course dinner at McDonalds. You scoff, go ahead, but it was delicious and there was free WiFi. We had the Jalapeno deal which included a Jalapeno Burger, Jalapeno BITES, and Jalapeno McFlurries – de-fuckin-licious. The night continued at a bar with a Jug-o-Cocktail. Our cocktail of choice was the “Ticket To Fly”, a mixture of Rum, Vodka, Tequila, Triple Sec, and Pina Colada mix. This was followed by an impressive display of athleticism during the viewing of the second half of Electra and a 20 minute portion of Van Helsing in which Jessica and I polished off the liter of Walleeeeeeed’s Rum. We “walked” over to the club’s disco and danced for what may have been anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours. I wore a gangster-like hat out to the club and, logically, began to use it more and more as a prop as the night wore on, doing the MJ hat spin and throwing it into the air.

My inability to catch the hat apparently got out of hand and I was approached by a bouncer and asked to leave or put the hat down, which were and are entirely equivalent in my mind. As we exited the club, I decided that we should go and hang out on some large bed-looking relax mats. Somehow, we set up the camera to take a 10-second timed photo and then passed out immediately afterwards, not even bothering to look at the picture or pick up the camera. I awoke to Jessica saying we had to go – party over. Halfway to the room, Jessica, darling that she is, realizes that we don’t have the camera and manages to locate its exact position in her very foggy memory. I proceeded to Baksheesh the club by depositing my Jalapeno McFlurry in the trashcan outside. Game over.

The next day was bad. We got Baksheeshed, big time. Hung over, we realized around noon that the awful feeling in our stomachs and our bowels was not just from the alcohol but from the poisoned Egyptian water and or food that Captain Pollution gave us on our snorkeling trip. We made our way to the pharmacy to nip that one in the butt (pun intended) with some good old antibiotics.

Wednesday bled very quickly into Thursday which was overshadowed by our first Recreational Submarining experience. Somewhat overhyped, we successfully completed a submarine tour at a depth of 26 meters! Such an accomplishment warranted the undated, unsigned “certificate” that the hotel gave us when we got off the sub. To their credit, it was a yellow submarine named Sindbad.

We left the hotel and made our way back to Cairo using the same shitty bus company but this time got ripped off less. We took Dramamine to sleep and woke up in Cairo, taadaa! When we exited the bus we were essentially flogged with propositions for taxi rides. We stuck to our guns and said we would only pay 10 Egyptian Pounds (1.5 euros / 2 dollars) to go to our hostel. A group of three taxi drivers scoffed at us saying that the minimum they would accept was 20 Egyptian Pounds. In the middle of it all came one eager beaver that said “Baksheesh!” to his friends and grabbed the suitcase and said, “Ok 10 pounds, lets go”. Its truly amazing that people can try to screw you over so much and then just swallow their pride and be like “JK man, 10 is totally cool.” Since then, the exact same scenario has happened every time we took a taxi. We say one price, they say the double, we say “no thanks, bye”, and they say “ok, ok, ok, no problem”. Below is a picture of a taxi where you can see that the meter is ancient and doesnt work and the intereior is trashed and replaced by cardboard. This is not unusual...

We saw some sights in Cairo but, overall, were not impressed. The tourism industry here was once flourishing but has since been left to basically decay, along with the city. The city itself is rampant with poverty and is extremely dirty, even in the good parts. The pollution is obscene and the amount of overcharging is impressive. The place basically reeks of a tourist attraction gone bad, sustaining itself by the allure of the Pyramids and Giza but falling short in every other aspect. The Nile is a token of it all, a once beautiful river is now polluted and overrun by boats with tawdry lights.

We did have a very good dinner at a recommended restaurant, Abou Tarek, which proved to agree with our stomachs and not cause us to relapse.

As a side note the phase “Walk like an Egyptian” actually means “Nonchalantly walk out in front of traffic that refuses to stop for red lights. However, do not run. Ever.”

We did most of the touristy stuff around Cairo. The pyramids at Giza are definitely a must see once in your lifetime. The pyramids are impressively massive and awe-inspiring. It made me wonder what ever happened to the ancient Egyptians. Because they were building some impressive shit 4000 years ago so they should have definitely conquered some peoples. But apparently they spent too much time building cool shit and too little time kicking ass and eventually got conquered by the Persians and then the Romans and then the British. We also went to the Egyptian Museum which I would say is a must see if you are in Cairo. I’m not a huge museum person and some of the things in it were extremely impressive and ornate for the times that they were made.

Overall, Cairo is not a city that I liked. Most people try to take advantage of you, the pollution is horrible, the city is absolutely hideous, filthy, and essentially decrepit. The traffic is insane – there are no painted lanes and cars travel wherever they see fit, switching lanes constantly and using their horns every 3 seconds to either say “hello”, “fuck off”, “out of my way”, or “want to get in my taxi? No? Sometimes? How about now?”. Some people were extremely nice and others the opposite. It’s obviously a mixed bag but not one that I would like to mix myself into. However, I did find free internet in the Cairo Airport which is pretty awesome…

We had 36 hours in Milan on our return journey but the whole experience was pretty low key because it was Easter weekend and everything was closed. But Milan was a nice city with awesome Gellato, good pizza, and a sweet park. We hit up the Duomo while we were there and had us a good time.