Global Seminar in Art & Art history from Goya to the present. Course includes architecture, sculpture, painting, photography, film and flamenco.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Wednesday night, after getting back from Toledo, us boys went out for, what was supposed to be, a couple of drinks. We started at a bar, The Wall, and met a group of Spaniards more than willing to converse with the likes of us. All of them were familiar with American pop culture and television shows (Jersey Shore, Shameless, Game of Thrones, The Real World) and unfortunately were under the impression that most young Americans operated analogously. Our new aquaintance, Jacob, commenced the interaction with our group; he had the same name as myself, but as we may have noticed, the pronunciation of the "j" mimics the sound of preparing to spit a lugee. The boys and I made it clear only a small population of Americans go to the gym, tan, and do laundry religiously, in that order, and our interest in the program stems from the same motive as themselves; to watch a bunch of assholes act like assholes. We exchanged cultural interests and differences in sports and films and fashion, and, basically, managed to touch upon most topics during the extensive night with our new friends. Jacob was wearing a white cut off sleeved t-shirt, which read, in english, "It's hard to be me". It wasn't the first time I had seen a shirt with an American phrase; I've seen shirts displaying, "King of the streets" or "Things to do today: wake up, eat, poo, sleep" or "Fly ass kicks", and finally, I saw my window to confront the trend. My initial assumption was partially correct, and I mentioned if written in Spanish, the phrase would be too long to fit on a t-shirt. Jacob lengthened my theory declaring, "It's just not as cool when you translate it to Spanish", meaning the phrase doesn't hold the same intrigue or relevance if translated. Needless to say, on the basis that all of the boys missed class the next day, the night with our new friends went deep into morning. Jacob and his friends were all around 28 or 29 years old, but drank and partied beyond most college students at CU Boulder, and they accepted the role as our sherpas through the bars and night life of Madrid.
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