If You're Comin' to Look for Apartments, Be Sure to Wear some Mariscos in Your Hair.

I: I am now friends / conference-mates with two MCP-elects (and one former roomate by extension): the MCP-Elect of Austria and the MCP-Elect of Latvia. Congratulations.

II: My thoughts and my sympathies are with these people right now.

III: Today I went to Valencia after class for two apartment appointments. I arrived at four; the first was at six and the second at seven-thirty.
First thing I did was go to where the six-o'clock place was. It is in the city center (historical), which is close to a lot of stuff but not so close to the university. I wanted to get a feel for the area, however, so I walked around for two hours. I noticed that for about two blocks radiating out of my potential piso, everything was dreary and urban decay; and once you stepped out of that zone everything was delightful and "Valencian," I might say in a kitschy way of foreign expectation of some kind of feeling that probably doesn't really exist about a place that probably also doesn't really exist.
Anyway, within these two blocks, I witnessed two police incidents within one hour. Both had three police cars at the incidents. I was also getting in general weird-feeling because I saw some shady-looking chicas around as well. When six came around, I called the person, and they explained to me (all in Spanish) that they had really meant jueves (Thursday), when the email clearly stated lunes (hoy, Monday). I argued for a bit, then they said not until jueves. I was 95% decided against that building (especially at €295 per month) when I asked an old feller in the street (again in Spanish) about having seen the police incidents, and if this street (Calle de Triador) was a safe one (specifically, if there was a lot of crime here). He answered me in his thick Valencian accent that had seen as least as much Franco as PSOE, "Eso es un calle de mujeres." Whores. And as I left the area, I saw one more guy being pulled by a policeman, into a white police car.
The second, closer to both a metro stop and the school, was in a far better neighborhood, was quite a nice flat, and had a balance of two Italian girls and a French guy. They were "buscando solo chicos" (looking only for male applicants). I really liked the flat, and I was about to seal it - when they said "We'll talk to you in two or three days. There are about 25 applicants." What the hell am I supposed to do in order to make myself outstanding? At least I was only speaking Spanish. I really want that apartment though...I doubt they come much better.
I have two more tomorrow. You'll have to wish me luck or something equally useless, if I have any elevated hope if things are like this each time.

Let's talk about Spanish nightlife.

Wherever you live, whatever you do at some time, the time comes to move on to the next activity, and you know when that is without looking at the clock, or by looking at it. I'm talking about the mundane here - dinner, afternoon nap, sleeping, going out at night. When you come to Spain, you will have that same feeling, at the same time. But you will have to wait three hours before it is time to do it.

The Spanish take their comida - lunch in our sense - at 2:00, when siesta begins (which lasts until about 4:00). They take their dinner (la cena) between 10:00 - 11:00. And then there are various "going out" exploits for drinking and such. The real nightlife begins between 3:00 and 4:00, and lasts until between 6:00 and 7:00. I am not lying.

Billy said last night, "All right guys, let's go out to the discoteca!" It was of course 12:30. Far too early. I tried to explain this to no avail. We all went anyway. Billy had the idea that I should change my hair to be more "European" by getting a "Faux-hawk." I need not repeat what I told him he could do to himself. He also lampooned my form of dress. He had to "tool-ify" me (my words, of course) so I would be more acceptable visually among the Spaniards with their euro-mullets and their ambiguous insults to Americans. (Not hating on Spaniards here at all - I dig them quite much.)

The discoteca is of course not my idea of a good time, neither at home nor here. But the time comes when I must experience it at least once, and where better than here on a Saturday night. The tapas bars were chock-full at at 11:30, and we were still in our apartment, having eaten three hours prior. We went to bars/clubs between 12:30 and 4:00. The first one was shite, in my opinion: electronica-pop and the meaningless gyrations of so many hips, with so many eyes focused downward. The second one was much more to my liking: decidedly more "spanish" music, but certain others hated its authentic nature, and so we left again. By now it was finally time to go to this place with an 8 euro cover charge, called "Coco Loco." Although I lamented the price which was about 16 euros too high for my entry, I have to admit - it was rather happening. Apparently THE place to be in Grau de Gandia between 4:00 and 6:00 this morning.

I never smiled the whole time because I was not having fun, but nonetheless I complicitly waved my hands in the air and sweated in my corduroy coat - chic in certain circles in the US, the object of derision among the striped-shirt crowd. I was glad to go to sleep.

I cannot make this entry any longer unfortunately because I have to go, but those time issues are interesting ones. And I probably won't go to a discoteca again. Tomorrow I look for apartments and such. Wish me luck.

Documentary to Catalyze the Impending and Glorious Revolution of the Alabama Constitution

Lewis Lehe (whom I know through my good friend Matt Wurtele, a travel companion and comrade in the ideo-militia of people who play music together) has created a documentary titled "It's a Thick Book." You should watch it most especially if you are from Alabama.



It is cold and raining today in Grau de Gandia, which confuses me. As my apartment-mate Nicolai from Bavaria put it very well, we must not be in Spain, because it does not rain in Spain. Tonight however the two Australian girls, Jamie and Kate, are putting on a fiesta for Australia Day. Australia's flag looks like this:



I also will probably go to Valencia tomorrow para buscar una habitación.

I will also take this opportunity to tell you to come visit me for the Falles (in Valencian) or the Fallas (in Castellano). It is from March 16-20. Those are the same dates that Uncle Tupelo recorded this excellent album at John Keane's house in Athens, GA in 1992.

Empiezo

I finally have a Nomadlife blog. I intentionally waited until I got here (from Atlanta, Georgia, USA to Valencia, Spain) in order to activate it because I wanted to be real xhardcorex and not be some kid typing just hanging in the same place.

I am an Anglo-Celtic Alabamian who attends the Georgia Institute of Technology. I am twenty years old, and will turn twenty-one in one month. Only one month of a break on the US's progressive substance laws. I am a member of AIESEC there, I was a part of the group that restarted it in 2005 and I was VP People Development in 2006. I count December 30th, 2005, when I and a few others drove eight hours to Dayton, Ohio for the Winter Strategic Conference 2006, as probably the most important day of my life (unless you count September 9, when I learned about AIESEC).

The reason for that is it allows me to have a platform for my potential to develop, an amazing network of amazing people, and it gave me an excuse to flex my global muscle(s). I had always wanted to study abroad, but my experiences with AIESEC have certainly changed the way in which I would approach it.

Which is why I am now in Grau de Gandia, España, with about 100 Erasmus students (and less than 10 Americans and Australians) in an intensive Spanish language course for two weeks before we relocate to the Universitat Politècnica de València. If you want to see it, the coordinates on Google Earth are 39°28'32.90"N and 0°20'37.00"W. It's near the platja (Valencian for beach).

The month leading up to this was extremely busy. After leaving work, I had to prepare and execute being OC VP Promotions for AIESEC US Winter Strategic Conference 2007, then almost immediately go to Culiacan, Mexico to faci for their national leadership development seminar. And four days after I got back from that, I flew to Spain, about 18 hours before my class began. So this is my first break for a while.

There are many things I could have written about had I access to the internet before now, but some of them have subsided, and now what I can say is that our apartment, which is on the ninth and top floor of the Apartamentos Turisticos Biarritz in Grau de Gandia, has an excellent view of the beach and ocean, and the sunrise. It is like a dream here.

The future will bring change.