This blog is titled 'Hogwarts' because I felt like I was there today. In reality, I just started classes at the University of Sevilla. I am taking classes in two facultades: filologia hispanica & historia. And luckily for me, both of those facultades are located in a gorgeous old building that used to be a tobacco factory. I'm not kidding, this place is amazing. It's surrounded by a moat for Christ's sake.
But throw in a little Hogwarts, and this places becomes more foreign than 'Nam.
I compare this University to Hogwarts because there is ABSOLUTELY NO RHYME OR REASON to where classrooms are. For example, I was searching for my first class today in Aula XII. I walked in to the general area where my class would be. My first sight -- Aula XVII.
"Must be close," I thought to myself.
Then I realized the classroom next door was labled "VII." Strange. But even stranger was the fact that right across the hall was Aula 103 in normal numbers. It is some sort of mind warp.
Editor's Note: If you do not read Harry Potter, do not read the following paragraph, as you will not understand, instead will think blogger is plain crazy.
And if you think all of that is confusing, don't even get me started on those changing staircases and moving pictures. I honestly felt like Peeves was playing a day-long trick on me and changing the numbers of the classrooms. I didn't think I needed a secret password for this shit... this isn't Gryffindor Tower.
Wow for that rant. Really, though, the search for XII dragged on for a good 30 minutes. After finding it on an entirely different floor than XVII (which doesn't make sense that some double digits are downstairs and some are upstairs), I settled in for my first class, geography.
Couldn't tell you a SHIT of what happened in that class. I'm working on changing that.
Next, I was off to Sociolinguistica Andaluza, the class I was considering changing. But when the professor walked in and started talking, I knew I was staying. I understood everything he said, and it didn't help that he was old and adorable. I was hooked despite the class meeting on Friday.
Then, I went to Comedia de Lope de Vega in the afternoon. One word: NOPE.
I couldn't understand anything this woman was saying. A nice Spanish guy in front of us helped us get the copies she was handing out, but that's the only thing I took away from her 1-hour long schpeel about the class. I then went to Angeles's (the program director) office and looked for any sort of filler for Lope.
Thank GOD I got to blow off a little steam at Nervion Plaza (the mall) after class. I spent a good chunk of change on 3 items: jeans, HUGE SUNGLASSES, and a shirt. But it felt really good after such a stressful day.
Nothing, however, solves my stress quite like cheesecake, and Mercedes had some waiting for me when I got home. Granted, it was Roque's 30th birthday, so there was an occassion, but it made me feel sooo much better to get out of my head for a few minutes and just stuff my face. I also ate a huuuuge slice of tortilla espanola.
I ended the night by watching "Mira Quien Baile" with Mercedes. It's pretty much my favorite show aside from "Pasapalabra." Our least favorite, Jose (a matador), got kicked off FINALLY. He was heinous and always messed up. The finals are next Monday and we're rooting for Manuel, although I think it's a little unfair that he's known to be a good dancer already... the battle wages on as to who I'm rooting for in the finale...
Really, that's all. I thought some people might care that I go to school here. Hasta luego!