The Infamous Video

DAY TRIP: The international student outing to Toledo.

My first week of classes went off without a hitch. The following is my class schedule, all taught in Spanish:

• International Finance
• Innovation and Technological Change
• Economic History
• International Human Resources Management

So far, they’ve been really enjoyable. In HR Management, for example, the teacher constantly asks me questions about American culture and business practice. We watched parts of Apollo 13 and The Spirit of St. Louis to show the individualistic, can-do attitude of the US, and I shouted “Go America!” as Charles Lindbergh landed in Paris. The professor frequently maligns the French, but the two foxy French girls in my class are always too absorbed by their cell phones to notice. Ah, the irony.

     I dropped one class called International Trade because it involved a lot of microeconomics, and I spent half the lecture trying to figure out what the abbreviations stood for. Sometimes it’s just a simple reverse of the letters (PM for Producto Marginal, or Marginal Product) but I swear it took me fifteen minutes to realize that "RMS" means marginal rate of substitution.

     School is compelling and I’m learning a lot, but let’s get back to the festivities. Monday night, ESN put on a get-together called “Tandem Cañas,” where the idea is for all the international students to gather for a drink and tapas to practice Spanish. I met an engrossing girl from Chile who goes to university in Lima, Peru. She set the standard for maps drawn on napkins, sketching a shapely South America with climate, topography, capitals and all. My Chilean slang, though in any other setting would be flagrantly unbefitting, actually really delighted her. It was an enjoyable night and a nice change of pace from the chaotic club scene.

     Afterwards, I’m riding home on the train thinking happy thoughts when I feel a little movement in the pocket of my khaki pants. As I reach in my hand and grasp only cloth, I see a chubby little boy running away with his hands in his shirt. Not about to be pushed around by a 10-year-old, I stealthily follow Sticky Fingers all the way to the other end of the train, where he finally runs into a roadblock. I grab him by the shirt, pin him against the wall, and start yelling in his face: Give me the money! ¡Dámelo o te pegaré! Just as I’m about to pick him up by the ankles and shake out my money, a middle-aged man arrives claiming to be the boy’s father. He feigns to check the boy’s pockets, cusses me out, and assertively drags the lad with him to the back of the train. Having caused a scene that captivated and thrilled at least a hundred spectators, I conduct the walk of shame back to my friends, 40€ poorer. The lesson I learned is that once a pickpocket has your property in his grubby hands, it’s as good as gone. Unless, of course, you’re prepared to knock the teeth out of a youngster and search his underwear.

ENDORSE HERE: E is one of my best friends
and goes to University of Northern Colorado.

     Tuesday night, I went out to dinner with my Mexican friend Efrain (who goes by “E” since his name is too hard to pronounce) and two of our friends, Alex and Kimia. For 12 Euros each, we were served a three course meal with mouthwatering dessert and two bottles of wine. None of us could figure out what anything on the menu was, so we each ordered something different. To my intense amusement, E ended up with octopus soaked in its own ink. We were so merry that we couldn’t resist asking our dour waiter for a feather to dip in the ink so we could sign some imaginary documents, but he wasn’t quite as amused by this as we were. No feather, we settled for this picture (see above).

AMITY: Fine dining was not prepared for this rambunctious crew.

     Wednesday night, I hung out in the dorm with some Spanish friends. Being a sucker for a pretty face, I let a girl I had only just met take a video of me dancing Reggaeton to a masterpiece of the genre. Next thing I know, random people in the cafeteria are coming up to me and asking if I’m the one from the video. By no means is it an unseemly clip, but it’s still pretty embarrassing seeing as I’m inflexible and have no rhythm. I would post the video here, but I prefer to contain my ignominy within the country!

     Thursday night, Matt and I “caught two pigeons with one seed” (as the direct translation from the Italian expression goes) by going into the city to attend the international student event, and then making it back to Getafe in time to go to the big Thursday night party for the residence halls. I haven’t seen so many obstreperous 18-year-olds since hanging out in Bates House my freshman year. What’s more, since all the chicas had seen the video, I was pretty much a local celebrity… not in a good way, but hey, there’s no such thing as bad publicity except your own obituary. At 2AM, we all walked to a run-down club in Getafe (think The Thirsty Parrot) and danced until well into the morning. It was far from humanity at its finest, but I had a great time and met a ton of people from the dorms - though I doubt they’ll be able to remember me.