Dalí Love Confusion

So, yes, last week. That was a thing that happened.

Monday was pretty normal. I went to Civilization class and we talked about Franquismo, which is always interesting. And then in cine we talked about El Bola and Mar Adentro, and generally discussed things and such. Then I went to my English class, which was… mysteriously empty. And I asked at the front desk, and they couldn’t tell me anything, so I went home and worked on my essay. I got an email from Dr. Pennock later that said that he was sick and that class had been cancelled. He had apparently sent the email telling me that first to the wrong Katie.

And then I went to Elena’s class, where we continued to analyze Salvador Dalí paintings, which is greatly amusing. And then we wached some interviews with Dalí, which were HILARIOUS. Like, he was on this old game show called “What’s My Line” and there was this panel of blindfolded people ask yes or no questions to determine his idenityt, and by the end we were DYING of laughter, because he is just insane. And arrogant, and I don’t even know. Those poor contestants. He was not being very helpful. And then it all made sense when he gave an interview and there was a translator, because his English isn’t great. And he said “I’m not going to use the translator. Dalí love confusion.” shakes head

So, yeah, then we had our meeting and I did my homework and went to bed.

Tuesday we went to Lit class and talked about microcuentos. Microcuentos were a thing I first heard about in AP Spanish back ages ago, and then they were kind of the bane of my existence. Their name translates as “micro-stories” and they are… just that. They’re these little tiny slips of stories (a few paragraphs, maybe only a line) and they are just so interesting to me. Like, there is this one anthology called “Crimenes Ejemplares” by Max Aub, and it’s a collection of microcuentos and each one is from the perspective of a murderer, explaining why they murdered the person. It’s kind of “Cell Block Tango” for you Chicago fans. And it’s chilling. But then there are also some that are just kind of confusing. Apparently, though, this is the most famous microcuento, translated here, for you, by me. It’s by Agusto Monterroso.

“When he woke up, the dinosaur was still there.”

Except it’s better in Spanish, because “woke up” doesn’t even have a gender or a definite identity. Something woke up. Human, not human, male, female, sentient, we don’t know. But when it woke up, the dinosaur was still there. Crazy, huh?

And then that afternoon I went to see Captain America. It was fantastic. There’s a theater about 20 minutes away from the dorm that plays big Hollywood movies with Spanish subtitles, and Captain America came out in Spain a whole week before it did in the US. (I find it hilariously ironic that Captian America did not debut first in… America) So Jess and I went to see it. And that was a cultural experience in and of itself. Like, the set up of the Cine and the fact that the theater itself was TINY. It was maybe 6 rows of seats and the rows were 10-20 seats each. Also, there was some promotional thing going on, and the tickets were like 3 euros. I don’t think I’ve ever paid that little for a movie ticket at a real theater.

And then the movie itself was just the bomb. One of the best superhero movies I have seen in a long time. Good plot, good action, excellent use of Black Widow (WHO NEEDS HER OWN MOVIE LIKE 2 YEARS AGO!) and just general awesomeness. And that’s actually one thing I love about Cpatian America, is that it isn’t ashamed to be a superhero movie. Like, it is about a guy in a red white and blue outfit running around being really moral. And that’s OK. And I love that, because that’s what superheroes do, they are allowed to be good in a way very few other characters are. And I love it.

Also, I used my prior knowledge of Captain America and the fact that it was April fools day to text fake spoilers to people back home. I had a good time. An absolutely shocking number of people believed me when I told them that Captain America died. Including my own father. 

So then I went home and did homework and went to bed.

Then Wednesday we watched some movies about foreigners who fought in the Spanish Civil War. Some Italians who Mussolini sent to fight for the fascists, and then some Brits who came in the International Brigades. It was interesting. Also, one of the Brits had a Welsh accent, and we were all laughing and our Spanish teacher, who can't understand English was so confused as to why we were laughing.  Then in Cine we talked about… I honestly don’t know. I can’t find my notes from that day. Whoops.

Anyway, so then we came back and did homework and lunch and went to Elena’s class, where we… learned the subjunctive? I think. You know, I think I have a problem remembering Wednesdays. So, yeah, OH NO! I KNOW WHY I CAN’T REMEMBER-

We went on an excursion with Juan Miguel, and I was very, very tired. So instead of Elena’s class, we went to the Museum of Valencian history, and I wandered around listening to La Traviata on my iPod and doing our assignment. The coolest part of the museum, really, was the building itself. It was originally built as a reservoir for the city in the 1800s, and so it’s underground and cool and brick, and it was nice to be there. So then we went home, and I did homework and planned and stressed and went to bed.