Gonna finish it up with the lucky number 13 update from Spain. Itīs been fun and hope you all did well on finals and will enjoy your summers. I will probably be posting all the emails on my website sometime when I get back to the USA, including ones about my travels through Europe with my brother (which I will not trouble you with during the summer), so I will let you know when thatīs done. Then those of you who didnīt have time to read the emails before can do so at your leisure without them taking up half your inbox space. :) I canīt wait to see you again. --Anand

After getting back from Scotland, I sent off my speeches and info to Laura for my campaign to hold an exec position in my volunteering fraternity for next semester (ended up winning the PR/Rush spot, a position I held for Spring 2002. Will also be the only guy on Exec next semester.) Dad sent me an email saying he put the Infiniti on AutoTrader.com and finally sold it...to a friend of the boyfriend of Ashley, one of the girls here in Spain with me! Craziness. On Monday, the children of Madrid had the day off, but *we* still had classes. Of course, the cruise most of the girls went on was still gone, so each class was about half full. It was actually kind of fun. Got to hear the story of Chuck and Bentsenīs trip to Poland, the Ukraine, the Czech Republic, and Hungary. Turned out Bentsen got totally sick in Warsaw, so Chuck ditched him and went to Prague by himself. I thought then that they sounded like exotic places Iīd never go to...now it looks like my brother and I will visit Prague and Budapest this summer ourselves. At home I got some extremely disappointing news: While I was in Scotland, someone won the jackpot on Pasapalabra! I was so upset for having missed it. In fact, I havenīt seen it more than 3 times since then. Paulencia and I went to a jazz performance in a local bar that night for free. It was relaxing and fun...Paulencia is great to spend time with. We missed the last train home, so we had to walk, but the place wasnīt more than 30 minutes from our casas anyway.

On Tuesday, we had to do evaluations for each class. Bentsen got a longer one about the program in general and complained about having to fill it out when none of the rest of us got one. He was halfway through when the program facilitator, Noemí, came in and pointed out the sticky note in the corner asking Bentsen to make 28 copies to hand out to everyone. Bentsen and I decided to visit the Basque Country that weekend, home of the separatist group ETA. That night we all went to see Las Bicicletas Son Para el Verano, a play about daily life during the Spanish Civil War (hi, can we pick another topic ever?) Actually it was funny in parts and a lot more entertaining than the other two plays we saw this semester...I liked it. I gave Kristin her shot glass from Loch Ness. She had already given me a patch from France and lava rock from Pompeii. How cool is that! I spent the next three hours on the Metro trying to complete my goal of going to every stop in Madrid. Luckily I started and finished the Enid Blyton book I bought in Inverness. At this point I have only two major sections of the Metro left, but since they cost extra money...maybe I wonīt make it.

On Wednesday before class, I went to the post office to collect my package. Oh yes, my dad sent Inés a calendar (hey, heīs a life insurace agent) and sent me a package with a novel I requested and Skittles (!) at the same time earlier in the semester. The calendar arrived a few days into February...the package arrived April 9. So now, with all the Skittles they sent and the bags I got from Jeromia and from Chuckīs parents...someone needs to help me finish these. I bought my ticket for the bus to the Basque Country online (the transportation websites here are horrible...I was lucky to find out how to get there at all.), leaving on Friday morning at 7:00 AM. By now everyone had heard about my skinny-dipping in Loch Ness and were starting to think they had the wrong idea about me...it was pretty cool. And Inés showed me how to make tortilla de patatas, so hopefully I can practice for my parents before debuting it at a House Dinner at SMU.

Friday I got up at 5:45 to get ready and go to the station at Avenida de América. Good thing I got there early...I had no idea where the buses left from and ended up getting there about 5 minutes before it left. 6 hours later, we were in Bilbao. The countryside looked more Irish than Spanish, with mountains and greenery everywhere. It also rains more there and all the mountains had mines on them. We walked to the Guggenheim Museum and took pictures of the outside, considered to be an architectural gem. We didnīt actually go inside. There is a huge flowering topiary of a puppy outside. It was supposed to be temporary, but since everyone loved it so much, it became permanent (and now half of the souvenirs in the shop pertain to it...weird.) In the gift shop, Bentsen met some people from San Antonio on day 14 of a 16-day tour...they missed steaks and Dr. Pepper. Well, thatīs fine and all, but otherwise Bilbao has *nothing*. We were there way too long. (Bilbao is written "Bilbo" in Euskera, the local language. We didnīt find any convenient signs though...I wanted to hold up our luggage next to one and take a photo of our "Bags in Bilbo"...lol.) We took a train to Guernica, site of a massive Nazi bombing attack in April 1937, practice for World War II. They dropped 29,000 bombs on the city, obliterating it. We visited the Museum of Peace, with exhibits on current world conflicts, the Guernica bombing, the history of Guernica, the idea of reconciliation, and the UNīs Fundamental Human Rights. Bentsen, deeply moved by the whole museum of course, signed the guestbook with, among other things, a picture of a cross in front of crossed American and Texas flags, and "God bless Bush and Aznar and Texas." Also, he hoped that what happened at Guernica would never happen again. Anyway, thatīs all I will say about that. We also saw the petrified trunk of the tree that the Basque chiefs used to hold their parliamentary meetings around. Although the Basques are very proud of their part of Spain (my guidebook says that you will not find a single Spanish flag in the area. Thatīs a lie. Still, they love being Basque.) and have their own language, Euskera, which is not like Spanish or any other language anywhere in the world, nobody actually speaks it. On a few signs in Bilbao and more in Guernica, there is written Euskera, but we didnīt hear anyone speak it while we were there. I was extremely disappointed. But at least I bought a Basque flag and patch...I can be a separatist in my own home! We tried to make sense of the train schedule to get to San Sebastián, finally figuring out that it would be 10:45 PM by the time we got there, with no reservations awaiting us. We also rode part of the way with unvalidated train tickets, not understanding how the system worked, which could have resulted in a fine of the round sum of 30 euros and 5 cents for each of us. We called hostels. Luckily the second had a room, but the place was not anywhere near the town center and an 8-euro cab ride later we were there and checked in. The hostel, Pension Ametzagaņa, was on a huge hill far from everything. We asked about dinner and found out the dining room would close in 5 minutes, so we ran in and ate. The Basque Country is where the best chefs in Spain come from, and our food was wonderful. Afterwards, we went to our room, skipping on the experience of Disco Night in the downstairs bar with a tour group of middle-aged women. My credit card had not worked when we tried to pay for dinner, but I had cash, so no big deal.

Saturday we got up later than we should have and went down to breakfast. By 10:30 there is no hot food left, so we had muffins and milk...we also asked for the bill but then decided we would spend another night...unfortunately, since we hadnīt said that last night, we had to change rooms. Also, the bill was higher than it should have been according to our guidebook. But we decided to postpone arguing till tomorrow. We descended the hill to the bus stop, figuring it would be cheaper than another taxi ride back to town. A half hour later, it was clear that the bus gods were not on our side. (Nor was any god: while we waited, Bentsen sang me every national anthem he knows...and made bad puns using the word "Basque") We had to climb back to the hostal and ask them to call us a cab, which we took all the way to the French border. The bridge linking Spain and France had a stone marker in the middle with "Espaņa" and "Francia" written on opposite sides. Bentsen made me take like 8 pictures of him with the marker. Then we walked into the town of Hendaye. Took pictures of the view of the port and bay and walked to the tourist office, which was closed. Bought postcards from the Spanish-speaking store near the beach. Actually, we heard a lot of Spanish while we were in this part of France. Bentsen and I decided to walk along the beach. Well, it turned out that all the beaches anywhere near here are clothing-optional...topless women and menīs butts all over the place. We kept our clothes on, thanks. But it was a really pretty beach, and we found a rock to explore. We deduced from the French road signs that the bus stop nearby would take us to Biarritz. We had to change in St. Jean-de-Luz but eventually reached Biarritz. Had an expensive lunch of sandwiches and Coke and tried to find the Museum of Chocolate before giving up. Crossed a bridge supposedly built by Eiffel to a small lookout onto the bay and we tried to ask an old couple how to find some house that Bentsen wanted to see. They spoke a little Spanish. When we crossed the bridge again, we ran into them again and they said they would accompany us. We all had trouble understanding each other, but we gathered that they were Marc and Geraldine and they were from Biarritz but had learned a little Spanish and didnīt like Chirac, the president of France. This pleased Bentsen, who was able to understand them a lot better than I. Nice people. Visited the Virgin of Biarritz and bought ice cream before we saw signs for the "Crypt Expo" (for all your crypt needs??) Intrigued, we walked in, but it was just the crypt of some French priest with lots of science-fair like information boards and photos. At least it was free. Called the parents from the bus station and completely used up all the money on my phone before the bus came. Unfortunately, it could only take us to St. Jean de Luz, so we caught a train from there to Hendaye and another to get back to San Sebastián, arriving almost as late as we did the night before, but at least this time we had a place to stay. Of course, our taxi driver (who swore a lot) did not know where our place was, but luckily I remembered the name of the bus stop we had waited at for 30 minutes that morning and we told him it was near there. We ate in the restaurant again and had the same nice waitress. I tried duck.

On Sunday we ate breakfast even later and did not argue about the bill although it really should have been lower. Of course, my credit cards did not work again, so Bentsen had to pay for all of it. Luckily my ATM card did work now, so I paid him back. We got to town and put our bags up in the bus station locker, realizing that...we had taken our room key with us. Forget going back; Bentsen said heīd mail it to them. San Sebastián has three beautiful beaches. We ended up walking around all three and visiting the aquarium (where we got to see living shark embryos waiting to be born) and eating hamburgers at a nearby café. Very relaxing day. Bentsen wanted to rent a rowboat and go out to the island in the middle of one of the bays, but the boats didnīt look very seaworthy, so we ended up not. We finished at the Comb of the Winds, a metal sculpture at the far end of the last beach. The stone lookout platform had holes cut into it. When the waves hit the wall, air rushed up through the holes. We played around with that for a while. There was a slight panic about getting back to the bus station on time so we finally found a taxi and took the 5 PM bus back home where I was treated to Bentsen laughing uproariously at the movie Joe Dirt two times in a row. 6 hours later, back home in Madrid. A relaxing trip, short on activities, but long on nice scenery.

On Monday, Jeromia told us about getting jumped by two guys at 5 AM on the weekend. No one stopped to help him even though he had one of the guys by the throat down on the ground. After Internetting for a while, Kristin, Chuck, and I planned our presentation about the educational system in Spain for the next day. Later I went back to a different Internet place that has Word and worked even more on my final paper for ethics, about genetically modified food. That weekend was going to be the Puente de Mayo...a 4-day weekend. Others had plans to travel, but I had just finished the trip to the Basque Country and no one was going somewhere I wanted to, so I decided to stay in Madrid.

On Tuesday we watched the movie of the book weīve been reading in lit class, which was entertaining but very different. Also, there was apparently no problem with showing male genitalia on screen, no matter the age of the person...crazy. In the culture class, we did our presentation and got that over with. Luckily people asked questions, so it appeared better than it was. Afterwards, we all went to Ben and Jerryīs, which was giving away free ice cream that day. I had never had Ben and Jerryīs, so it was pretty cool, and we got there right before the crowds. I had Vanilla Caramel Fudge.

On Wednesday we watched American Beauty in ethics class. I worked even more on my final paper for my *PASS/FAIL* ethics class (I swear, I donīt know why I spent so much time on that thing). I tried to get money out of 2 different ATMs but they said I had reached my limit for the day...strange, since I hadnīt used it. Plus my credit cards still werenīt working. A little weirded out, I canceled plans to go bowling with Chuck, Kristin, and Melissa that night. They convinced me to come anyway, but by the time I got there, they were done. We walked around and finally found an open bar. We were able to have one drink before they closed and we walked home.

Thursday was Spainīs Labor Day, so nothing was open. I spent a few hours in Retiro Park writing all my postcards, but I will wait till I get home to send them. Also passed by the Prado (which I still havenīt visited!) and bought some posters and a huge Spanish flag. I finally finished that ethics paper and printed it.

Friday I spent with Aishah in Puerta del Sol because all weekend they were having activities for the Festival of San Isidro. We saw a street performance from Australia and heard a dixie band and we even got caricatures of ourselves done (I was a bullfighter.) We sat in the Plaza Mayor having a Coke and watching the people go by. It was a lot of fun. Afterwards, we saw a Russian movie with Spanish subtitles (part of a movie marathon for the festival). It was a little too artsy for me.

Can I please be robbed one more time while Iīm in Spain? So on Saturday I left for the grocery store to (finally) get deodorant when I passed a white car parked on the side of the road with two guys in it. One waved me over and asked where I was from. I said India, kinda without thinking, but since the war, itīs seemed like a good idea not to make a big deal out of being American. He showed me a police card in his wallet and asked to see my passport, which I was not carrying. So I gave him my international student ID card to look at. He held on to it and asked if I was carrying cocaine. I was like, "oh, no, of course not." So he asked me to show him what was in my pockets. I took things out and held them up for him to see but didnīt let him have them. I asked for my card back but he wanted my wallet and started yelling something at me. Then he got out of the car. So I was like, fine, here. He got back in and looked through it, sniffing it every so often. Didnīt touch the credit cards. Finds my $50 bill that I keep tucked away for emergencies. Then he takes out the Euros and says he has to check if theyīre fake. So he just looks at them, folds them, and puts them back before giving me the wallet and driving off. I was shaken, nervous, and confused. I started walking towards the supermarket again but stopped a woman and explained what had happened and asked if it sounded normal to her. She said that yeah, the police did things like that every so often and I got stopped because it was obvious I was not from here (I havenīt shaved since Scotland, so now I have a beard). So I got my deodorant, which I paid for with change, so I didnīt take out the wallet. Then on the way back I saw a bunch of people lined up on the street, so I waited for 45 minutes and eventually got to take 2 pictures of the Pope himself as he drove by waving to the crowd. So that was pretty cool. Then I get home and tell my seņora about what happened. She said that yeah, the police did that sometimes. So I ate lunch and went to my room. Opened the wallet...they had put back some of the money, just not all of it. The guy had pocketed my $50 bill and a 50 euro bill. More than 100 dollars worth altogether. I showed my seņora and she was amazed. And she scolded me for having so much money in my wallet. I was angry and felt like a total idiot. Took a nap and then called Chuck. He invited me to go around Puerta del Sol with him, so we met up there. I didnīt see him as I walked to the clock tower, and he came running up behind me and grabbed my backpack. Thatīs Chuck for you (when I hung up the phone, he said to try to not get robbed on the way down there). We went to a CD store, had lunch at the same place Aishah and I did the day before, and called her to come see X-Men 2 with us. The movie was great, so much better than the first. We were lucky because the theater near Sol was showing it in English with Spanish subtitles. Ran into our Ethics professor who was there with his adopted son and I told him about the "policemen." He was upset that I had fallen for that one. Chuck told him about his encounter: on the way to the theater, we were on a crowded sidewalk (Spanish people will not move out of your way and have no concept of personal space) and he saw an old couple coming and tried to get out of their way. The man was looking around instead of paying attention to where he was going. So he runs into Chuckīs shoulder (Chuck is a whole head-and-shoulders taller than me) and staggers backwards, his glasses almost falling to the ground. Chuck said "Iīm sorry" like 7 times and asked him if he was all right. So the old guy gets up in Chuckīs face (as it were) and asks what he would have done if his glasses had broken. Chuck said he was sorry but the guy wouldnīt let it go, so eventually Chuck just turned and walked away. (I didnīt see the collision, but I was standing a little apart watching the confrontation.) He was very upset about the whole thing: it was clearly the old manīs fault and now heīd be off telling his friends about some punk kid who almost broke his glasses. Neither of us let go of our rage with the citizens of Spain for a few days. Aishah, Chuck, and I grabbed a table nearby and bought shakes and ice cream and just talked about lots of different stuff for an hour or two. We left for our respective dinners with the plan to meet again where Aishah and I saw the artsy Russian film the day before because they were showing the original Japanese version of The Ring at 12:15 AM (in Japanese, but with Spanish subtitles). When I got there, Chuck (who i had to convince to come because Aishah really wanted to go, but not alone, and I hated scary movies) was there but *Aishah* ended up not showing up because she was feeling sick. So, since we were there anyway, Chuck and I watched The Ring. NOT worth it, the American one is so much better.

Sunday was Motherīs Day in Spain, so I bought Inés a flowerpot with some pink flowers and a card and wrote her a note. She gave me dos besos when I got home from spending the day in the Internet café not working on my Ethics paper like everyone else (yay for finishing ahead of time!)

On Monday we watched Hable Con Ella in Ethics class, the Almodóvar film that won the Oscar for Best Original Script. It was fun because Paulencia and I got to see how people reacted to the surprising parts. And it was subtitled in English so we understood the movie a LOT better than when we saw it in the theater (the night I lost the gloves I bought on sale here). I encourage you to see it if you get the chance.

Tuesday was the lit final: analyze this poem. Not bad. After that was the oral part of phonetics: say these 15 sentences into the tape recorder and talk about your return to the USA. Chuck asked me to help him find a present for Kristinīs boyfriend, Justin (the one who forgot to bring me Skittles). What did he want to get him? A lockpicking kit. (Chuck already owns one. They used to practice using it by locking Kristin in her closet and letting her out again. Weirdos.) So we eventually found this shop called The Spy Store, but they only sold cameras and microphones. The lady suggested we go to an armería, but she didnīt know where one was. After a call to information, we found out there was one close by. On the way, I wondered: "If guns are illegal in Spain, what do they sell in an armería?" The answer: hunting vests. Just lots and lots of hunting vests. The lady there suggested we try a ferretería, which I think is like a cross between a hardware/kitchenware store. We explained to the guy what we were looking for and he said nothing like that was sold anywhere in Madrid. "Then anyone could open any locked door," he explained incredulously. I was like, "well, right..." So it looks like Chuck will have to wait till he gets home.

Wednesday was the written portion of the phonetics exam. First one done, baby! Wasted almost 4 hours playing a new game on MSN with Kristin: Bespelled. Check it out. I didnīt have anything to do, so I went with her to Hard Rock Café so she could buy a shirt for someone and then we went to Häagen-Dazs and had ice cream. After staring at the two bathroom doors, one of which had the letter C on it and the other the letter S, I chose S. Haha, too bad that was the womenīs one. Oh well. That night Kristin, Chuck, and I met at a café and studied for about 45 minutes for our culture exam and then just played cards. Classes here are a total joke; itīs great.

Thursday: the last day! Everyone was in a silly mood, even the teachers. We had to write two essays and identify provinces on a map for the culture exam. Afterwards we all gathered in the hallway talking. It was cool to think back on the very beginning of the semester where we hardly knew each other and now here we were, everyone talking like old friends to everyone else. At 1:30 we gathered in the downstairs salón and all the professors said a few words after we gave them the flowers we all pitched in to buy for them. We all got little certificates for our work during the semester and 3 of the students went up and said a few words as well. Then it was buffet lunchtime, with everything youīd expect: mini-sandwiches, manchego cheese, potato omelettes, sausage, and wine. That night was the goodbye dinner. I met up with Paulencia and her seņora in the Metro to the restaurant. Her seņora was really nice, from the north of Spain. Little by little, everybody arrived. All the students were there, some had brought their seņoras (mine didnīt want to go), and the professors had all come as well. We all sat down and talked and met and shared appetizers. The food was great and we had sangría and cava to go with it. The restaurant also had karaoke (!!) so the professors started it off, all of them getting up there and singing New York, New York (unfortunately there were only a few English songs). Aishah impressed everyone with Somewhere Over the Rainbow (which she sang the night she and I met the crazy toothless guy in the karaoke place at 2:45 AM or so). People kept asking me if I was going to sing, so I chose California Dreaming and Chuck said heīd be my backup, so we went up and did it. Everyone cheered, it was so much fun. The whole phonetics class did one of the Spanish songs we learned in class, Noches de Bohemia. And I did the last song of the night, Laughter in the Rain, with McKenzie and Bentsen. It was great. Everyone had such a great time, taking photos and singing and everything. I ended up going out with four of the girls in the group later on and having a malibu and pineapple and a tequila shot (the salt for which was not licked off my own body...)

Friday, I got up really late and went to Retiro thinking I would rent a rowboat with Paulencia, but when I called she said she had just finished at the spa and had other things to do as well, like get her hair cut and pack her bags. So I sat and wrote in my journal while all the scruffy guys and girls nearby kicked a soccer ball around and smoked marijuana. Kind of a unique experience. Then I went to Sol and had lunch at Mickey Dīs before walking around some parts of the city I hadnīt seen yet. I have seen and done so much stuff here in Spain, but there is plenty right here in Madrid that I never got a chance to experience. Iīm sure thereīs a philosophical point waiting to be made in there somewhere, but thatīs not my kind of thing, so Iīll just leave off with that. Itīs been fun trying to summarize everything for you guys this semester. Hope you have enjoyed it and maybe learned some stuff and I especially hope you want to come see Spain for yourself now! This is me signing off.

Anand