Is it raining in Seattle? Because it’s pissing in Cádiz.

Martes el 13

If I were to write that I’m not sad right now, I would be lying. In my attempt to escape the rain of Seattle, I’ve managed to stumble upon more rain…and thousands of people I can’t understand. It’s a recipe for me to be blue. And to miss my friends, Brian, and my family.

Right now, it is 8 pm, so I don’t eat dinner for another 2 hours. I just finished my homework, and since my house doesn’t have any internet I have to find other ways to entertain myself. My family here is pretty old, they have grandkids that come over for lunch sometimes. Today, they came over again. There is a little girl who is probably like 7, and a little boy who’s 2ish- my Madre calls him “tu hermano!” because we both have blonde hair and blue eyes. I would totally love to play with them and talk to them, but frankly, the 2-year-old little boy can actually speak better Spanish than I can. It’s really fucking depressing. Today I tried to strike up a conversation with the little girl, Ana. I will translate it for you into English:
Me: Do you go to school here?
Ana: Where?
Me: You.
Ana: Oh yes, I go to school in blah blah blah.
Me: Oh, very nice. Do you like it?
Ana: Yes, but I don’t like that we have to wear uniforms on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday
Mara: So the other days it’s whatever you want?
Ana: No, on Thursdays we have P.E. Did you have P.E. today?
(I’m wearing sweats. I thought you could just wear them, but apparently it’s only if you have P.E.)
Me: Well, no. I changed out of my other clothes. I need to change my clothes…
Ana: I like the braid in your hair!
Me: Thank you!
Ana: Tatat tat a tata tte te totatata
Me: Haha, yes.

I quickly finish my food and change and leave for school again. Everyone here dresses in extremely nice clothes every single day, so if the fact that I have blonde hair and blue eyes doesn’t make me look foreign enough, I wore Shox to class today. Sinner…

The other day, when Marisa and I were trying to find the internet, her host dad led us to the plaza. He talks faster than anyone I’ve heard here, so every time he said something to me, I would either say “Qué?” or just smile. There was one thing I did understand though. He points at Marisa and says, “You, you have the face of a Spanish person, you have the face of a person from here!” Points at me and says, “You, you have the face of an American!” I guess I can’t really argue with that. Fuck.

Little by little, I understand a tiny tiny bit more. I think today I was extremely tired considering that Ben and I went to the Plaza at 3 to use the internet, and I have to wake up at 8 for class. Being jet lagged and tired and frustrated and homesick makes it really hard to look on the positive side of things, but I’m still trying. It will get better.

Until then, I will sit in my 4 degree Fahrenheit bedroom and cry myself to sleep as I attempt to recite the day’s Spanish lesson in my head.

SER Y ESTAR. SER. CUALIDAD. LA CAJA ES CUADRADA. LA PELOTA ES REDONDA.