Today, I spent more than two hours writing a blog that I promise was decently funny and had at least three insights.
“No me gusta mucho el fútbal americano,” I said at a cafe intercambio. An iPhone timer went off, indicating it was time to switch to English. “But I do know one good story.”
There’s a holy hush. Tourists had been respectful in different ways in the preceding rooms of the Vatican Museum. Feeling sacred in the air, we stopped in each doorframe and […]
I had never been the catalyst of a Spanish laugh that wasn’t followed with a diagnosis of “That’s funny” and a sigh.
I was in Málaga, the sixth largest city in Spain, alone this past weekend. I wanted to prove it wasn’t inherently dangerous for a female to travel alone.
I’m in Ronda, Spain attempting to study abroad and learn Spanish. This is not going well. I’ve been bedridden the past three days and asleep for about 15 hours each of those days.