Students on strike.

600,000 Alumnos sin beca / 600,000 students without grants

Faculty closed for educational strike

A note from our professor saying that class is cancelled because of the strike.

So something kind of weird happened today... As normal, I crawled out of my bed at just gone 7.30am to get to my Russian class for about 8.45am (it's supposed to start at 8.30 but the teacher doesn't have a great concept of time!) I left the flat at 8.10am and went on my merry way to the metro station. As per usual, I got to uni about 30 minutes later, and noticed that some new graffiti had been added to the already expansive collection all over campus. There were banners up outside the metro station saying '600,000 alumnos sin beca' (600,000 students without grants), but to be honest, I hardly batted an eyelid as this has become a regular occurrence - the Spanish youth sure do love a say in things (more on this at a later date...) On my way to class, I notices that something was a bit... off. There were a fair amount of people about, but they were all just hovering, not really going anywhere. It usually takes about 10-15 minutes from when you leave the metro station until you enter your classroom, but it's usually fairly uneventful - that was until today. I went to cross a road, and noticed that a police car was blocking the traffic from going the direction of my classroom. How strange! However, it was only 1 policeman so I just assumed that there has been some sort of collision further down the road. Anyway, I carried on, but as I got closer to my destination, I noticed more police vehicles - and this time they were't just cars. There were probably 20 (if not more) full on police people-carriers lined up down the road, yet it was pretty much silent. Again, I continued, but when I reached the building of my Russian classroom, I noticed that loads of people were again just standing around outside, and a larger group of people were looking over a balcony, in the direction of all of the police cars. I looked down, and saw more police cars, and then a large group of students barricading the entrance of one of the other buildings in my faculty, all surrounded by police in their full get up - batons and shields at the ready. As you can imagine, I was quite confused - what possibly could be going on to need this many police?! I asked a fellow confused student, and she told me that the students of our faculty (and a few others) were striking because of the cut in grant money and were therefore blocking this particular building. I still didn't quite get why so many police officers were needed, but I saw other students enter into my building and decided to follow suit as my class would be starting any minute. 

I arrived at my classroom, and to be honest, I wasn't all that surprised to be the first one there - despite it being about 8.55am at this point. Convinced that someone would be arriving soon, and that they must just be delayed by the commotion going on outside, I decided to wait... and wait... Whilst waiting I decided to Whatsapp my friend from another class saying how everyone one was late. The reply I got was a bit worrying..

"What? You went to class? Did you not see the news?" 

Um, no? I don't have time to be watching tv at 7am! He then went on to explain the situation...

"They started a fire, they're occupying the buildings and they're attacking the police! You should probably go home"

It all seemed so calm and quiet outside, but now I was starting to worry. Is this why no one had bothered to come to my Russian class?

"How is the situation now?" I told him what was going on, and asked him if there would be any classes today, as I was supposed to have another two hours after my Russian class.

"It's not that there aren't any classes, the teachers aren't on strike, the students are. Classes will depend on whether the teacher can get there or not"

So, after an hour of waiting in my empty classroom, I decided to text my friend Katya (who I had my next class with) to tell her what was going on. We didn't know whether or not we would have our next class, and as she was already on her way, we decided to show up and go from there. When we got to the classroom, we were greeted by a piece of paper stuck to the door (last picture) that explained that the class was cancelled because the teacher physically could not get to the building due to the strike. So not only was this craziness going on outside, but I also woke up at 7.30 for nothing!! As there was nothing left to do, we both headed back to the metro (where Katya had been only 20 minutes before!) to go home again. On the way back, more police were blocking the main avenue of the campus and then we could hear chanting in the distance. Before we knew it, crowds of students were marching from both directions down the avenue, and all we could do was watch from the sidelines. As we got closer to the metro stop, we saw more and more police vehicles, and still loads of people hovering around. Now I think about it, all of the people who didn't know what to do with themselves were clearly foreign. As per usual, the foreigners were left out of the loop - so the only people on campus were protesters, police, and a confused bunch of foreign students wondering what the hell was going on. A warning email would have been nice... Didn't think of that one now did you ERASMUS office?

Luckily we were able to escape without any further drama, but it was overall an utterly confusing series of events. Nowhere but Spain would you have students on strike! In the UK, the teachers may occasionally go on strike, but everyone is pre warned and it is generally for a good reason, but no, things are the other way around in Spain! You certainly wouldn't have the police getting involved in the UK either, and I'm actually really lucky that I only ran into a few police vans, because as you can see in the video below (that I didn't see until I got home), things actually got pretty serious. Fires started, police beatings, 53 arrests, and it turns out that the students that had been barracading themselves in one of the buildings had been in there for a week! Just another day as a Year Abroad student - I'm actually starting to feel like I'm back in Russia!

Now, I'm not familiar with all of the facts, but I did do a little research to see what caused this strike in the first place, and to be honest, it sort of backs up my 'Spanish youths don't know how lucky they are/they'll protest about anything' theory (again, more on this later). So, let's just take a quick look at what caused this kerfuffle;

- Students have been taking part in a 48-hour protest against rising fees and harder access to grants.
- It costs the average student approximately €18,000 (£15,000 or £3,750/year) for a 4 year language based 'grado' (undergraduate) degree at the Universidad Complutense de Madrid (prices depend on subject)
- However, many students have access to 'becas' or grants and there 6 different types of 'becas' available depending on your need/status.
- As with grants, these 'becas' are non-repayable, so basically free money to help students get through university.
- If you compare that to the situation in the UK, the Spanish are having to pay only a third of the price per year, and also receiving 'becas' to help them fund it, whereas a typical student studying in the UK would be able to take out a loan, and grants are fairly hard to come by.

I am obviously no expert, but it all seems a bit ridiculous to me! What are your thoughts? Do write me a comment if you have anything to add/dispute, I'd like to hear what you think!

If you want to read a bit more on the subject, here are two links to articles written by El País - a national Spanish newspaper: 

http://elpais.com/elpais/2014/03/26/inenglish/1395835412_287554.html

http://elpais.com/elpais/2014/03/27/inenglish/1395917283_458509.html?rel=rosEP

Until my next crazy adventure!

Isobel x

*Sorry that some of these photos aren't great - I didn't want to get too close to all of the action!

Why not?

Today at 3pm, Katya and I arrived at our Russian Literature classroom, ready to settle down for an

exhausting 2 hour discussion about the poems of Mihail Lermontov. ¿Qué interesante, no? Obviously, one of our classmates felt as enthusiastic as we did, as about 10 minutes in, when the teacher couldn't get the internet to work, she said; 

¿Profesor? ¿Podemos hacer la clase fuera? (Teacher? Can we have the class outside?) 

The teacher um-ed and ah-ed for a second, and then said;  ¿Por qué no? Vamanos. (Um why not, let's go). 

Katya and I looked at each other, completely astonished at what was happening, our class mates (about 7 other students) were actually packing up and heading outside. If someone had asked asked that in the UK, the teacher would have just ignored them, but somehow, we were now heading down the stairs and out into the beautiful Spanish sunshine.  We spent the next two hours discussing Russian poetry outside under the warm sun. It's wasn't particularly hot (about 20 degrees), but the sun itself was lovely and warm, and it really helped to make the 2 hours (which is a long time talking about Russian poetry in Spanish!) go that bit faster. To this moment I'm still a bit shocked that it actually happened, but I'm certainly not complaining. You wouldn't be able to do this in the UK in mid March, and you definitely wouldn't want to do it in Russia! 

Well that's my little Spanish tale for today,

Until next time,

Isobel x

Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas

Nestled amongst the bustling streets of Madrid is the famous Las Ventas Bullring (Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas). Only a handful of stops from the centre of the city, you exit the metro station at Ventas and are welcomed by this magnificent sight - a Moorish style circular structure adorned with ceramic designs. The Plaza itself is split into 10 'tendidos' or sections and holds up to 25,000 spectators, and is regarded as the home of bullfighting in Spain. My friend Charlotte is writing her dissertation on bullfighting, and therefore wanted to go and visit bullring, and I gladly --- along. I personally didn't want to go and watch an actual fight (which are only on from May - October anyway) so we decided to do a tour of the bullring instead. The building itself is stunning, and is just waiting for you as you exit the metro station. We had decided to buy our tickets the day before at Sol, but it turns out we really didn't need to as it was really empty (and ended up paying an extra €2.20 'distribution fee'). If you buy your tickets at the Plaza itself, they will cost you €10, which includes an audio guide. Charlotte and I decided to be studious and got it in Spanish, and I was pleasantly surprised as to how much I understood! I personally love audio guides because you can tour at your own pace and not be shuffled along as part of a larger group. Like I said, it was practically empty, so Charlotte and I only ended up seeing about 6 other people whilst touring this massive structure. This meant that we could really take our time and be as snap-happy as we wanted. Within the bullring, there are signs telling you which way to go, and numbers corresponding to audio clips explaining different features. It was really amazing as we got to sit in the stands, but also go and stand in the actual ring! Well that's about it, but before I leave you, here's a few fun (!) facts about the Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas:

- Only one bull has ever won a fight, and after his victory, he was allowed to go and live out the rest of his life in peace.

- There are 2 infirmaries within the building for when things go, er.. wrong. Oh, and there's also a chapel.

- Ticket prices vary depending on how close you are to the ring, and whether you are seated in the sun or the shade (the shade being the more expensive of the two)

- The bullring has 5 gates, all with different purposes. One of the gates - called 'toriles' - is where the bull enters the ring, another is where the matador enters, the 'cuadrillas' gate is the access to the horse yard, the 'dragging gate' is the exit through which the bull is removed, and the 'Puerta Grande' is the gate that every bull fighter dreams of exiting by after a great victory.   

I know that bullfighting is a very controversial topic, and I myself wouldn't ever want to go and witness a real fight, but the tradition and history behind it is extremely interesting. If you are like me and don't want to watch an actual fight, but would like to see a bullring, I would definitely recommend taking a tour of la Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas (or any of the great bullrings in Spain) as they are truly fascinating to see for yourself.  

Until next time,

Isobel x

The worst 24 hours ever.... (PART 2)

PART 2:

I woke up the next morning thinking that the night before had all been a bad dream, today had to be better right? I had plans to meet Katya and Charlotte to go and visit Museo de Reina Sofia and maybe pop to Sol/Gran Vía after for a little shopping. In order to get to Reina Sofia without having to change on the metro, I took a different route than I normally would have. I got on the train at Iglesia and it was probably the busiest train I've ever gotten onto (except maybe the MTR on a Friday at rush hour!) Before we reached the next stop, a bunch on guys who had got on at the same time as me started to push to the front to get off. My first though was 'well that's pretty lazy' as the metro stops (Iglesia and Bilbao) are very close. Then I felt someone pulling at the back if my bag, so naturally I shifted slightly as Madrid is known for its pickpocketing. The train stopped, the doors opened and the group of guys surrounding me began to get off. It all seemed a bit strange, so removed my hands from holding the zip on my bag (to keep it from being opened) and did my usual 'tap both front pockets of my leather jacket to make sure everything was where is was supposed to be'. It wasn't. The zip that was under my bag had been opened and emptied without me feeling a single thing. Worst thing? My iPhone had been in that pocket. As soon as I felt that empty pocket I rushed off the train - just before the doors closed - and ran after the dwindling crowd leaving the platform. Being an unfamiliar metro station to me, I lost the group before I had chance to catch up with them, and ended up circling round onto the other side of the platform by mistake. Once I realised that it was all over, I burst into tears. Again. You can't even imagine how scary it is being in a foreign country without any means of contact. So there I stood, on an empty platform hyperventilating and sobbing to myself when a lovely lady came up to me and asked me what was wrong. I somehow managed to explain what had happened, and she took me to the exit where the security office was and explained to the people there what had happened (as my Spanish was NOT working). Luckily, one of the guys there spoke fairly decent English and helped me call Vodafone to block the sim card. 

Ok, so the sim card was blocked - but then I had to figure out my next move. I'd only been in Madrid for about 3 weeks at that point and had yet to remember anyones numbers - the only numbers I know are my family's (either UK or HK numbers). The security guy was willing to let me use his phone, but I could hardly ask him to call overseas. Luckily he had Whatsapp so I could let my parents know what was going on. I was so mad at myself because one of my friends had had her phone stolen only weeks before, and I couldn't believe that it had happened to me as well - I had been as careful as I could have been, but I guess some people are just professionals (which becomes more evident when I tell you something else a bit later on!) So the next thing I had to do was go to Vodafone and get my sim card duplicated (a lot harder in Spanish - trust me!) The only problem is that my friend Alicia (who lives in Madrid) had bought the sim card for me, which meant it was under her name. Therefore I needed her to come with me to get it duplicated, and guess what? I couldn't remember her number. The worst part of this is that the night before, when my phone was dying on the bus, I'd got an eyeliner out of my bag and actually written her number on my hand - but like a good girl, I took all of my makeup off before I collapsed into bed, including the number on my hand!!!!

The choice was simple, go to buy a new phone and then go home, where I could access the internet and let everyone know what had happened, or go to Reina Sofía, and hope that I could catch up with Charlotte and Katya. I decided to get back on the metro and head to the museum, thinking that I could catch up with them. Let me tell you this, you really don't realise how much you rely on your phone until it's gone! I got off the metro and realised that I couldn't use Google Maps to figure out how to get to the Museum. Luckily my Spanish is good enough and I was able to ask for directions! Now the next part is not that interesting, but still adds to the mounting levels of frustration of the entire day, so let me just summarise it for you;

- Apparently there are two entrances to the museum - if I had gone to the other one I would have found them as they waited for me for 45 minutes, whilst I sat outside the other entrance for a good half hour. 

- I ran around Reina Sofía for and hour and a half like a mad man trying to find them, all the time getting rude looks from the employees sitting in each room as I certainly didn't stop to admire the artwork. 

- To add to it, I really didn't like the museum. I don't like modern art at the best of times, but the combination of my situation and the complexity of the museums layout really made me dislike it. 

- Then, after an hour and a half, I decided to give up, headed to Sol to buy a new phone and went home to use the internet like I had originally planned to.

Right, so I was back at home, exhausted from the day and had managed to send Katya a message on Facebook letting her know what had happened. Luckily, Alicia was also online and I managed to explain to her what had happened, and about the sim card predicament, and she said that she could meet me at Sol within the hour to help me get a new sim card. And back on the metro I went... Now you're probably all wondering, why didn't you just get a new sim card? Well, that would have been a lot easier now, wouldn't it? The reason that I wanted to duplicate my card rather than just get a new one was that I had literally topped it up with €20 the day before, and I didn't want that to go to waste... Remember this - it comes back into the story later.

So there I was, in the Vodafone shop in Sol with a new sim card. As I'd had trouble with my internet the first time I'd got a sim card here, I wanted to test it out in shop to make sure everything was okay. For some reason, even though I could text and call, we couldn't get the internet to work, so the guy in the shop helping me and Alicia went to check my balance and found out what was wrong. The €20 that I had topped up just days before gives me something like 100 minutes, 100 texts and 1.5GB data (don't quote me on this!). When the guy checked my balance, I had 100 minutes, 100 texts, and get this, 0GB data. I couldn't believe my luck, and to be honest, neither could the guy at the store. In the 10 or so minutes that it took me to block my sim card, the buggers had used 1.5GB of data. Now if you don't know much about that kind of thing, let me just tell you, using that much data in 10 minutes is almost impossible. Almost. See why I think they were professional?? So, I could have just saved Alicia the trouble and got a new sim card because here, if you run out of data, you have to top up again for the whole month, so I had to hand over another €20, on top of the €5 duplication fee, and the hundreds of € it cost to buy a new phone. Great. 

After all of that, Alicia and I headed to McDonalds, got a burger and a lovely slice of cake and ended up laughing at all of the bad luck that had come my way in the past 24 hours. I mean - how unlucky was I!? I hope this has made sense - my story telling isn't great at the best of times, and I'm trying to make this as short as possible so that you don't have to waste too much of your life reading it. So that was pretty much it. After my traumatic few days, I only left my bed for food on the Sunday as I felt like it was the safest option for me! 

My reward for making it through the 24 hours.

Please excuse if there are any spelling/grammatical mistakes - I will read over this again soon but even writing it all was exhausting, so I don't feel like reading it again just yet. Luckily in the last week my luck seems to have turned around a bit (although I did experience a mammoth nose bleed in the middle of my Russian Literature lecture on the Monday - probably all the stress!!) So this concludes the worst 24 hours ever... I hope you enjoyed reading about my many misfortunes! Hopefully my next post will be a bit more jolly

Until next time,

Isobel x

The kind of thing that happens in Madrid...

Enjoy :)

x