I’ve had class all morning, and I have an exam for my art history class – taught in the Prado museum – in a couple hours. I should be studying, or perhaps packing for my trip to the south of Spain that begins tomorrow, or even napping, since I fell asleep on all four trips I’ve taken on public transportation today. Instead, I am sitting as close to the radiator in my room as possible with a mug of tea and cookies. And jonesing to write about what I think is possibly the most fascinating part of my study abroad experience.

IES gave us 10 days off of school in the middle of the semester! With all of this time off in the middle of the semester my friends and I decided to explore other parts of South America outside of Argentina. We first went to Cusco, Peru where we were able to see a lot of Incan ruins in Cusco the city, at Sacred Valley, Ollantaytambo, and of course Machu Picchu. It was spectacular! After Peru we ventured to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil where we were able to relax at Copacabana and Ipanema beaches, summit Sugarloaf Mountain, and see Cristo Redentor up close! It was also an amazing trip!

Literally translated as “book eater,” comelibros means “nerd” in Ecuadorian Spanish.

On the other hand, parrandero means “party-animal.”

This particular post is about my comelibros-life in Ecuador.

So after ten crazy days, I returned from Fall Break this past Sunday. Although I did get a good bit if time off of school, all of the traveling that took place over my break was more tiring than school itself. No complaints here, though. All of the great experiences I had were completely worth being a little more tired than usual.

I can feel the initial discomfort of being abroad in a non-English speaking country fading.  I’m hardly jaded, but my daily walk to class through Parque del Oeste has become routine, and my Spanish has improved enough that it is starting to seem less like a secret club to which someone forgot to invite me.  Still, the fact remains that I’m living in relatively unfamiliar territory.  So when I hopped on a 9 am flight to Copenhagen, Denmark this past weekend, a city with a wildly different ambiance than Madrid, I was a little overwhelmed…again.  There’s nothing like a lit

Natalie and I walked into the bathroom at a pub. My brown flats clicked on the yellow tiled floor.

“There’s no toilet paper. We sent someone to get some,” said a woman in a corset, tutu, feathery wings, and a halo – all white.

I’ve noticed a definite trend in my letters to my family in the US: I spend a lot of time writing about food.  Not raving, not criticizing, just . . . trying to describe it all.

Take weeknight suppers – a four-course affair of soup, a main dish, cheese, and a dessert.  We’re talking serious business.

Then take company suppers.  Here is the menu from my host family’s most recent soirée: