Can’t believe that my time is about up! I leave tomorrow for Barcelona, and then on the 1st for home. I have many stories to tell, but since I haven’t been feeling well (again) they will have to wait ’til I’m back in the states. I hope that the Tramuntana winds let my plane take off tomorrow! Just getting to the library for internet has been a chore. See you all soon!

P.S. Here are some things I would enjoy when I get back:

A nice big hamburger and french fries.
A piece of pecan pie with good coffee.
A real breakfast with bacon, eggs, and pancakes.
A real shower with water pressure, and the ability to leave the water on the whole time.
A sweatshirt.

I now classify our room as the sick room since each girl seems to go down for a day or two as of recently with some ailment. It all started about a week ago when Lia spent 2 days in bed after what we initially thought was a hangover. The funny part is that Lia, being Canadian, knows how to handle her beer, and she didn’t drink that much to begin with. She ended up spewing after both Ecomuseu death rides (*all the roads are bumpy, hilly, and windy to and from the Museu).

That night, Doris and Sarah stayed in Mahon to experience the delights of Indian food (we crave flavor and variety after Juana’s cooking every day). They both felt ill that night, attributing it to the spicy food, and Doris ended up in bed for the next two days, completely passed out and crawling immediately back into bed if she dared arise for the bathroom.

Monday night came the real kicker when Tamsin said she was feeling ill. I exclaimed, “Who brought this sickness in here?!” She said it was Juana, our housekeeper. She has been ill with vomiting and diarrhea.

“Oh, my god! You mean she’s been puking and whatnot… and cooking all of our meals?! We’re all going to get sick!!!”

Oh, how right I was. The next morning I awoke for digging early and choked down my breakfast. I knew something wasn’t right, but I just thought my stomach was upset from being tired. The feeling continued while digging in the hot sun, but silly me, in denial that this could be “the sickness”, marched on with the idea I was just tired. After lunch, I just couldn’t take anymore. My stomach hurt with a burning, cramping passion, and I proceeded to spew multiple times in the EcoMuseu bathroom (in case you cared to know). I dreaded the EcoMuseu death ride home – would I make it?

Equipped with a double-lined plastic bag, I sat in the front seat setting my sights on one steady object, avoiding any contact with the moving outdoors. I held it in for 45 minutes of topsy-turvy roads and people asking me if I’m alright. I thought I was going to “pull a Lia” as soon as we got there. “Just find a place between two cars on the street, and you’ll be good,” she said. Luckily, I made it to the residence bathroom, and then to bed for basically the next 4 days.

I curse Juana. I curse her and her lack of hygiene and decency. I feel as though I lost a week of my time here because of it. Lia ended up getting sick again with more of the stomach illness (so maybe the first time was a hangover?) – but was definitely in bed for a few days with burning/cramping stomach. Some of the guys are also feeling a bit ill as of late.

I must say that the girls were the best in taking care of me in my time of need. Drinks, movies, medicine – all was taken care of. Thank you all for making my sickdom more bearable.

In Spain, an American will quickly notice how secure the Europeans are about their bodies, and what is being shown to others. I’ve seen people changing into their swimsuits while at the beach, and I have also heard word of our housekeeper walking into the bathroom while Doris was washing her clothes and proceed to pee with the door open. Shocking, no?

I feel as though some of the roommates have taken in a bit of this mindset. Our room has bay windows with a strange set up for blinds… meaning they don’t really cover the windows. We are also on the top floor, not too terribly visible to the surrounding buildings. With this in mind, the other girls in my room have tossed all cares into the wind and change whenever without checking out the window.

Little did Emily know that Saturday night she had an audience. She was going to change her shirt for going out, was luckily looking in the opposite direction, when we heard a loud whistle just as her top came off.

“Oh my god!” she said as she frantically grabbed a shirt to cover up.

We weren’t sure if the whistle was even meant for her at first, but the coincidence in timing made us a little freaked out. I looked out across the window at the one apartment that might have a view of ours and sure enough there were about 5 boys on their window balcony whistling and yelling at us. One of them held beers in his hands and motioned for us to come over.

They looked about 16.

It was actually kind of cute. The group of boys started shouting “Te Amo” across the street, and even busted out guitars to serenade us. We spent the next hour or so just cracking up at the situation because they just wouldn’t stop. One of the boys came over to ring our buzzer and Regina (our dig supervisor) told them to fuck off (you gotta love her straight-forward German personality).

At one point we got John and Adam into our room – they were going to take their tops off for them (at least they’d get some action that night – haha). When the boys across the street realized we had guys in our room (it is a room of 6 girls after all), they all started cheering and yelling for them. I guess they were excited that some guys were able to get into our room, even if it wasn’t them!

One of the boys came back later to ring our buzzer again after we all had left to go out. “Las chicas… we love them… where are they?” he asked. It was probably pretty hilarious when Regina had to tell them we were too old for them and that they had no chance. Can’t you just picture one of these boys calling all of his friends over because he has an awesome view of a room full of girls?

It only took 2 days to realize I made a big packing boo-boo when coming to a dig. Sure, if I were just traveling to some city, I’d have more than enough stuff to wear and be ready physically. When coming to a dig, I was 100% unprepared.

Shoes – I only brought two pairs of socks because I figured I could just wear my chacos most of the time, and my keens when it is nasty or cold out. However, using a pick-axe and wearing sandals, even though they are sturdy, is probably not a good idea. I have to wear my Keens every day – and thus had to buy 2 more pairs of socks from the store.

Labor – When I think of digging I usually picture people with brushes lightly removing dust around bones, etc. From the point above, you might notice I am using a pick-axe daily. The dig is a lot more laborious than I imagined – but I do enjoy feeling completely worn out afterwards.

Dirt – So, I quickly realized that picking dry dirt is very tough. We end up watering down our trench in order to dig easier, meaning we are completely muddy by the end of the day.

Clothes – I’m definitely wearing the same two clean shirts on a rotating schedule. I feel extremely silly, and even sillier when meeting my well-dressed compadres out for drinks. I’m looking around for some cheap shirts to mix it all up – yes, still looking. If you saw the style on this island, you’d be at a loss, too! (Aladdin pants = muy hippy)

Weather – I really thought it would be cooler weather in October, so my other clean shirt is long-sleeved. Unfortunately, (or fortunately – yay never ending summer!), the weather has been hot on most days, except for when it rains. Even then, it clears up and gets hot again in the afternoon. The rain has been more than normal here as well. Mallorca, the neighboring island, has been having huge flooding issues.

So, traveling carry-on was great for my mental sanity – I do hear that SpanAir is NOTORIOUS for losing your luggage – but it was not so great when trying to pack for this sort of activity. I definitely should have brought my Ariel and risked checking it so I’d be more comfortable now Oh well – you live, you learn.

Last week our excursion involved checking out all the taliotic sites around this side of the island. The taliotic people were the inhabitants of the island that started off living in caves, and later moved into stone villages. The Romans later came and used the taliotic people to their advantage as slingers (sling shot people) in their army. The cool part is they used lead shots, meaning that if they didn’t kill them from the shot, they would later die from lead poisoning!

Here are some pictures of the caves and the taliotic villages we saw that day.

Here are some goofy pics of me in the caves:

The best part of the day came when we arrived at Cala Morell – the most gorgeous little town, reminding me of Greece, and where every photo taken is of post card quality. I can’t imagine a better place for a village than on the top of the cape. It was quite breathtaking and seriously made the excursion one of the best ever. I’ll just let the pictures talk for themselves.

Spain is known for being laid back and having an intense night-life. Siestas seem to always be a cause for walking back home empty-handed. The daily work schedule runs from 9-1 and then from 5-9, making for a really relaxed work day. And don’t think that just because they lay around all day that they do the same at night. Oh, no. The Spanish start late and stay out even later – most not coming home from discos until 7am! I just had my first taste of a typical night out for the Spanish last weekend.

We started at a bar around 10pm, but since the owner wanted to leave early for a big party, he gave us a free round of shots and we then jetted off to the next bar in the obelisk square.

The second bar was very funny. John, the resident party-animal, found the guy from The Darkness, who he then talked into coming over to our table for a quick serenade of “I believe in a thing called love”.

Ok, so this guy was actually from Argentina, but he played along and gave us a line. How nice!

After a bit longer here, we made our way to the port where there is club after club right by each other, all having no cover charge. I usually do not go to clubs, or discos, because I am not a big dancer, but the group got me in by telling me about the top level bars and that there would be someone hanging out with me up there probably at all times. The funny part about that is when people get drunk, they don’t really care about how bad they look dancing, thus causing me to feel kind of a like a loner at times. Oh well, I still had a blast. The first club had an insane 80s vibe to it, with the bar maids dressed like someone from flock of seagulls or some other crazy 80s group. The songs were all from the 80s - see here where we are dancing “like a maniac”:

At some point we made our way to yet another club, during which time I found myself hanging out on the top bar. That was awesome because it was much cooler and you can look up at the sky. Lia and I wanted to up to the roof, but the security guards suggested we don’t go up. It’s not that we couldn’t - they just highly pushed us to not go - suspicious much? Later on, I saw a big group of nicely dressed guys coming down from the roof and I was convinced it was the Menorcan Mafia. Of course, someone told me it was just a wedding that went on earlier, but doesn’t the Menorcan Mafia make for a much better story? Maybe that’s why the security guys didn’t want us to go up there… hmmm…

Since I don’t dance, sometimes I found myself looking for other things to do - looking for other people that speak English to talk to. I started talking to one of the security guards who was from Belarus. The first thing he said to me was, “I’m not security. I’m a dancer.”

“Oh, so they hired you here to dance?” I asked.

Just then someone was talking to him on his earpiece.

“Oh, oh no. What’s that?” I asked.

He said he had to go take care of something real quick.

“Oh, its a dance emergency!”

It still cracks me up. He kept coming back to chat but had to run away for more dance emergencies! I just keep envisioning him trying to break up a fight by dancing in between them. Oh security guard/hired dancer. I know you were trying to tell me that your profession is a dancer and only security on the side, but you still make me laugh!

I realize now that I haven’t quite given any background information on the dig yet, so here it goes. The dig is run each year by the EcoMuseu de Cap de Cavalleria in Santa Teresa, Menorca. The site is that of a Roman Fort, dated from years 123-45 BC. So far, all that is left to dig is the trench that usually surrounds the fort, which will give us both the shape and size of the fort, as well as the entrances.

You might be thinking this sounds boring - digging out the trench - but let me tell you it is very interesting. There is a significant find in this fort since it is not the standard “perfect” rectangle pattern the Romans were known for. Because of this, we are not sure yet where this piece of trench goes (we are still digging out top layers and looking for the cut). They also have not found any entrance ways. This gets more interesting in the fact that the Romans insisted on filling in the trench with whatever items they had around so that other people couldn’t come along and use their hard work to their advantage. So, we could find lots of interesting items when we get deeper in. So far we have found pottery shards (Amphora), lead shots (sling shot bullets), bones (not human), and bronze nails. It is all very exciting!

We get up early to go dig - this is me:

This is Doris:

This is our dig site:

Jeff with metal detector:

Marking pottery on the terrace:

Church behind the EcoMuseu:

British Fort and rainbow in the distance from dig site:

I frantically caught an Aerobus to the Barcelona airport on Monday morning in order to catch my flight to Menorca. I was exhausted from a sleepless night, sweating from the layers of clothes I was wearing, and just ready to start digging! I sat down on the bus in an area where two other seats face you, which I absolutely despise. They give you no leg room whatsoever. Three guys sat in the 3 remaining seats, next to me and across from me, and I notice they are speaking English – not Australian, not British, but American English. In the back of my mind, I thought about saying “hi” just because I can (you bond with other English speakers on the road), but I was just too darn hot and tired to care.

They must have been bored because they just couldn’t keep their mouths shut. They started asking about me - what I was doing, where I was going – and when they found out about the dig, they were extremely intrigued. Long story short, apparently I was looking at fighting off Nazi mummies and dinosaur gangs while on the island, or maybe even digging to the center of the earth and causing Survivor to end after only one episode.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. So far there have been no Nazi mummies or dinosaur gangs (I’m not giving up on those yet). It turns out Menorca is just a small, beautiful island. I was in disbelief the entire bus ride to Ciutadella from the airport that I would actually be living in a place this beautiful for an entire month! I really couldn’t ask for much more, except maybe some bathroom space.

Another girl mentioned it was kind of like being at camp again. I’m in a room with 5 other girls with no privacy, and the worst part is there are only 2 bathrooms for the 16 people in the group. What makes this worse is we are all pretty much on the same schedule, so fitting in bathroom time is the most stressful part of the day. We have to start breakfast at 6:15 am, leave at 6:45, and get back at 3:30 for a late second lunch. Dinner is then served around 7:45 pm each night. We eat as a group, sleep as a group, dig as a group, and, most importantly, fight over the showers as a group. Oh me, oh my, this is going to be an interesting month!

Barcelona is full of interesting museums, two of which I decided to explore. Since I was going to be doing an archaeological dig, I thought the Catalan Museum of Archaeology sounded like the right way to go.

It was my first real day in Barcelona, so I attribute my first mishap to lack of sleep. Me being awesome at Spanish, I totally thought this cartographic institute was the archaeology museum. It was a bit embarrassing when I asked the guy, “How much?” and he responded with a simple, “Not a museum.”

Sigh. I’m a huge fool. The museum was a block down. I found it and went on my merry way, only, I wasn’t quite able to learn anything at this museum. Again, me being awesome at Spanish, I was unable to read all the cards next to the artifacts, which were all in said language. Imagine my dismay when I read the word “Menorca” next to a diorama of a cave with bodies in them, but was unable to get the story behind it because I simply couldn’t read. What a flop!

My second museum was the Salvador Dali museum, which is actually in Figueres, a short train ride away. Knowing about the self-ticketing machines that were normally available to me during study abroad in Italy, I thought this was going to be a snap. I took the Metro to the Estacion and proceeded to an empty terminal to make the ticket purchase, only I couldn’t quite read any of the ticket options. Usually this is no problem because I simply push the little British flag button and all the options magically appear in English. D’oh! Not so! One option turned to English, and that was “more tickets”. All of the ticket options were still in Spanish, so I had no idea if I was making the correct purchase.

Reluctantly, I turn to this nice older lady in the terminal next to me. “Do you speak English? Can you help me?”

She blabbers something in Spanish and takes over my machine. She starts pushing away at buttons, and – it took me a while – I noticed she was ordering her own ticket and not helping me at all!

I ended up waiting in a long ticket line to make the purchase face-to-face with a vendor, and after about 2 hours I was at the Dali Museum, enjoying his amazing and eccentric art. I was just able to upload pictures… take a look:

[Show as slideshow]

It was a most enjoyable day – the sun was out and the town was quaint and pretty. Planning ahead, I made it to the train station to buy a ticket and find out the next departure time back to Barcelona. It was an hour away, so I decided to grab a coke and walk around a bit more since it was not a crazy big town like Barcelona (I felt a little overwhelmed being alone in Barcelona at first). I counted the money in my pocket and it was just enough to get some lunch (Pans – you saved my life before in Madrid, and you did it yet again with your fondue sandwich!). The day was perfect.

The day was perfect until I realized somewhere between the train station and the train station, my ticket disappeared. Silly me for putting it in my back pocket. Even though I had my long jacket over my pockets, I was carrying my camera purse on that side. It probably loosened the ticket from inside and fell out at some point while walking. I initially thought I had been pick pocketed, but on recollection I really had no close contact with anyone. I also know that my long jacket would have made that difficult. Either way, it cost me an extra 9 Euro to get another ticket. Yeah, multiply that by 1.4 and you got how many dollars it cost, only get this, it cost way more. Since I had used all the change in my pocket to buy that sandwich, I had to find another ATM machine, which charged me way too much in order to be able to buy another ticket. How frustrating!

And there you have two museums and many mishaps. I believe Menorca is going to be better for me… at least I hope

I’ve been in Spain for a few days now and have a lot of likes and dislikes, but first let’s recap on the adventure of getting here.

Lucky me, no rain came later in the day, so my flight took off on time. I also managed to go all carry-on! Go me! On the plane, I had a lot of time to remember just why I love flying.

• My seat had its own personal tv with access to movies, tv shows, and video games! I spent half the night rocking out to some techno dance music while I played invader.
• People bring you stuff, like food and drinks whenever you ask.
• It gives you time to think.

Now the reasons I hate flying.

• I can never sleep on the long overnight flights… ever. I have been sleep-deprived for two days now.
• I hate sitting so close to other people! The dude I was sitting next to decided it would be cool to take sleeping pills and alcohol together. He spent most of the flight sleeping, while his dad would come over and stick his armpit in my face to fix his pillow. I seriously could not tell how old this guy was (thinking my age) until later he explains he is the head of a hand surgery practice! More on the hand surgery portion later. I hate sitting so close to people because you feel uncomfortable not being able to move around too much. I also hate having to ask people to get up when I need to use the restroom, but I do know the proper way to do that. This guy ONLY asked at the MOST inconvenient times - during BOTH meals. I mean seriously? You’re going to ask me to move my food around so you can get up now and not in 5 minutes??!!!
• Walking through the security center, you might as well just walk through naked. You practically have to undress to get through as it is. Let’s just save everyone the hassle of seeing teaser ass-cracks and take it all off.

So there’s my take on flying. Now let me tell you about all the other likes and dislikes I have discovered while in Spain.

THE GROCERY STORE LIKES:

• I was very glad to see my friend the Happy Hippo at the store, and now in a new chocolate flavor. The only reason holding me back from getting them is they come in packs of 5, and lets face it, I had a hard time last time I was in Europe resisting temptations, such as hippos, bueno bars, vino, and gelato. There will be no plump Brooke this time around! (Ok, so when I started writing this I hadn’t bought any, but I broke down yesterday and bought the 5 pack. I made sure to share with my roommates though.)
• Coke Light is back and better than ever in a new ‘al limon’ flavor that completely rocks my socks!!!

THE GROCERY STORE DISLIKES:

• I was not so excited to see a guy hardcore picking his nose in the check-out lane. It made me want to barf.

FASHION LIKES:

• It is fashionable for girls to have dreadlocks, even just one or two long dreads here and there. Kind of cool.
• Chuck Taylors are all the rage. It kind of makes me wish I didn’t throw all mine out last year!

FASHION DISLIKES:

• The 80s is here in full-force. People like tapered leg pants, and if their pants aren’t tapered enough, they tie stuff around the ankles to make them so.
• I’ve seen people dreadlocking their mullets!!!!

BARCELONA LIKES:

• The city is really beautiful with lots of colorful buildings and palm trees.

BARCELONA DISLIKES:

• All the fountains are turned off? Is that a September thing?
• Everyone tries to talk to me in Spanish, (or Danish on the flight over) even after I make it clear I don’t know it.

TRAIN LIKES:

• I love riding the rails. It is such a relaxing ride!

TRAIN DISLIKES:

• I always fall asleep. The ticket guy scared the crap out of me when he came by and woke me up.

Now let me tell you a funny story I heard on the plane from Mr. Hand Surgeon. It goes a little something like this:

A guy came into his place of work with all four fingers on each hand cut off at the 2nd knuckles. They fix him up then ask how this happened. The guy explains that he was mowing and wanted to trim the bushes, so he picked up the lawn mower and was using it very successfully… until he forgot his hands were there. Seems pretty dumb, right? Mr. Hand Surgeon just said that everyone is dumb.

He continued the story by saying that someone else came in after that with the very same affliction. They asked the guy how it happened. The 2nd guy stated he was driving home and saw his neighbor trimming the bushes with the mower….

Funny, eh?!