First day of school?

No FumarCatalina’s alarm went off, ringing its song that she usually ignored five times before acknowledging. But there would be no ignoring today. It was her first day of school. Well, maybe not technically as she had one class on Monday nights at NYU, but her first day at the Spanish University called Autonoma. She had so much to do: figure out how to get to Autonoma, which is on the outskirts of Madrid, choose classes, register for classes, meet her professors. The list went on. She got up and looked up how to get there before walking to Atocha to take the train. She would have to apply for an Abono, a monthly pass that allows unlimited travel within a certain region. Upon arriving at school, she was shocked by the differences between Spanish and American universities. Upon exiting the train station there were stands selling forties (as in forties of beer) everywhere, with students milling around drinking them. Then there were the “No Fumar” signs that everyone was blatantly ignoring. This was not so unusual considering how many people in Spain smoke, but students were not just smoking cigarettes but rolling joints. Finally there were the students themselves. The punk-like high school students she had passed in the streets of Madrid seemed to be out in full force here. Mullets and spikey hair abounded. Girls with baggy skinny jeans (seems contradictory doesn’t it?) walked around with their brightly colored backpacks and Converse sneakers. After the initial shock at her first sight of the school, Catalina went to find her classes. The funny thing about registering for class in Spain is that you did not technically register until March. Students and professors alike often did not show up to class until March, and you had until then to adjust your schedule. She signed up for a Grammar class and a United States history class. Why would she take a United States history class? The professor wanted to know the same thing. He began the class with a rant to the seven of thirty-seven students who showed up, saying he would not tolerate students not coming to class. It was a bit ironic. Catalina spoke to him after class, and he was genuinely confused for why she would take a class about her own history. He understood when she pointed out how little Americans know about geography. At the end of the day she had spoken more Spanish than in the entire month before and had made it through her first day of school. It would certainly be a different experience.