Miercoles el 28...again
So...today we didn't have school. All of the year long program kids came back, so we all decided it was a good reason to all go out together. I didn't want to go out, because I was trying to get up and go running today, but I caved because I wanted to meet everyone and mingle. Always trust your gut.
We started out the night in a normal way, tintos in the plaza together (tinto de verano is a really popular drink here, essentially it's red wine mixed with a sweet sparkling water, it sounds sick, but it's really cheap and really good. If 8 people get the supplies to have a few drinks each, it's less than a euro per person. That saves money at the bars). So we were all chatting and slowly started moving along to Nahu, the guiri bar that we all go to. The night wasn't not fun, we got some free drinks because we've befriended the bartenders and bouncers there, so we were all having a great time. Somewhere in between there, a group of people left to go get burgers. AND DIDN'T TELL HALF OF US. Extremely disappointed. After a night of going out, usually all we want to do is have some good food, drink some water, and wake up ready for the next day, but by the time we realized people had left, everything was closed (Cádiz doesn't understand that people who have been drinking usually like to eat afterward. The bars are open til like 4...so...yeah. It doesn't really make sense). So, finally, Michelle and Lauren and a few of us had one free round before we left. I didn't really want it, because I don't really like hard alcohol, but we all did it. If you were to put an orange into a bottle of nail polish remover, that is roughly what it tasted like. Upon smelling the little shot glass before we drank it, we assumed that it was just a shooter (practically juice, very little alcohol) because it smelled like fruit juice. Well it wasn't, and upon realizing we had been duped, we all got really ANGRY. I DID NOT WANT TO DRINK THAT, THAT WAS DISGUSTING, LET'S GO LEAVE AND GET SOME FOOD BECAUSE NOW WE'RE ANGRY THAT THEY DIDN'T TELL US. That's what we kind of said. So, after standing outside and realizing that everything was closed, Marisa and I decided to go to my house, because my madre always has tons of food, and it's really good.
After stomping up 3 flights of stairs, Marisa suggested that we take our boots off, so we didn't make so much noise. My padres sleep really heavily, so I say "Marisa, don't worry, they CAN'T EVEN HEAR US." I proceed to kick off my boots, not quietly, and we get into the house. Awesome, everyone is sleeping, clearly, because it's like 3 in the morning. We put our stuff down and made our way down the hallway to the kitchen, which is on the other side of the flat from my room. AWESOME, we were in. I turned on the light and closed the door and started to lift the lids off of pots and pans on the stove, while Marisa started to stick her hand into a box of chocolate cereal. At this point, we hear a noise (when someone turns the light on in the bathroom, the radio goes on to. The radio went on). I kind of look at Marisa while I turn around with a pan of rice in my hand, and she's holding onto a box of cereal about to reach in, and my madre opens the door. We were two very hungry deer in the headlights. "Oye qué pasa? Tatatat tata?" At this point, she doesn't see Marisa, until I panic and look at Marisa, then she sees what is going on, kind of. She didn't meet Marisa yet, because people don't really have people over to each other's houses here. We were both kind of buzzed and completely taken off guard, so we couldn't really speak Spanish, or English. I'll translate.
Madre: Hey what is going on here? It's like 3 in the morning.
Me: Uhhhh... (look at Marisa and blow her cover)
Madre: Who is this?
Me: My friend who...
Marisa: From the program!
Me: The one who lives on Frances Shaw!
(Frances Shaw is not a real street, but Fernandez Shaw is, so I'm just fucking up all over the place)
Marisa: Yeah from the program!
Me: My friend!
Madre: Well ok...
As soon as she leaves for the bathroom, we put everything down, switch off the light, and sprint back to my room, where we proceed to look at each other and laugh so hard that we cry, and throw our arms up in a questioning manner, like, "What the hell just happened?"
But, considering I'm already weird, because I'm American, I guess it wasn't a big deal to her. So that's cool. She was just probably wondering why I need to eat more than she already feeds me.
Note to self: next time, smuggle the food BEFORE you go out.
miércoles, 28 de enero de 2009
Las ratas del aire
Miercoles el 28
I have made 4 general observations about Cádiz thus far.
1) I hate pigeons. My teacher from K2 called them “las ratas del aire,” which means air rats. That’s what they are. Disgusting. And they’re everywhere. Every plaza that they visit, they surround you, fly around on you, and poop all around you. One took a shit on Paul’s computer the first day that he was here, and they have yet to redeem themselves. When god made pigeons, he messed up big time. Marisa and I plan to spike bread with alka seltzer and watch them all explode. I’ll let you know how it goes.
2) Cádiz has an amazing citywide sanitation program. I will tell you why. There is probably 1 dog to every 10 people here, and every single day, dogs shit in the streets. There is no grass for them to poop on, so they just do it wherever they want. Owners do not ever bother to pick it up, so it’s just everywhere. Also, if people can’t make it home to go to the bathroom, they pee in the streets, so we never know if the pee on the streets belongs to an animal or a human. A mixture of cigarette butts, pee and dog shit. However, every night, amazingly, the magical sanitation fairies clean up all the garbage from the streets, like, literally there are vacuum cars and trucks that wash the streets. It’s awesome. My only concern is Carnaval. I don’t know if they clean during Carnaval, but they really should, because after one day of the pre-celebration the streets were literally covered in pee and garbage. Either they’ll clean it, or we’ll be up to our knees in basura. I will also let you know how this goes.
3) Babies and dogs. Merz, listen up. Dogs here are the cutest dogs in the world, all sizes, breeds, ages. Some are scruffily, some are really unfortunate looking, but they’re all the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life, hands down. Not just the dogs, but the babies too. I kid you not, American babies suck compared to Spanish babies. THEY ARE SO F ING CUTE. They all ride in strollers until they’re like 5, and they’re parents bundle them up in sleeping bag type things and hats and scarves, so they’re sitting in their strollers with all of their limbs sticking out like cute little starfish. They probably all have heat stroke, but they’re so cute while they’re having heat stroke. And they all have little bikes and toys that they play with and scream Spanish words in their cute little baby Spanish voices. God they’re cute. Marisa is trying to start an album of cute babies and dogs, but it’s really hard to take pictures of peoples’ babies and dogs when you’re already weird for being American. We will have to think of a good way to get around this without getting arrested.
I can now understand pretty much everything my family says, and what people in the streets are talking about. The challenge now is being able to speak back.
Last weekend we all went to Seville. It was AMAZING. We saw la catedral, which is enormous and beautiful. The ceilings had to be about a million feet tall and there were old paintings and various religious artifacts from the 17th century. I’ve never seen anything like it. Also, Alcazar, which was the craziest most amazing building I’ve ever seen. It’s over 1000 years old, like pretty much everything is here. It used to be a Roman fortress, but the Spaniards took it over and turned it into a palace. I have pictures of everything that I will post as soon as I get my package with my USB cord!
I miss and love you all! You’ll be hearing from me soon, because I usually do something really stupid every day.
I have made 4 general observations about Cádiz thus far.
1) I hate pigeons. My teacher from K2 called them “las ratas del aire,” which means air rats. That’s what they are. Disgusting. And they’re everywhere. Every plaza that they visit, they surround you, fly around on you, and poop all around you. One took a shit on Paul’s computer the first day that he was here, and they have yet to redeem themselves. When god made pigeons, he messed up big time. Marisa and I plan to spike bread with alka seltzer and watch them all explode. I’ll let you know how it goes.
2) Cádiz has an amazing citywide sanitation program. I will tell you why. There is probably 1 dog to every 10 people here, and every single day, dogs shit in the streets. There is no grass for them to poop on, so they just do it wherever they want. Owners do not ever bother to pick it up, so it’s just everywhere. Also, if people can’t make it home to go to the bathroom, they pee in the streets, so we never know if the pee on the streets belongs to an animal or a human. A mixture of cigarette butts, pee and dog shit. However, every night, amazingly, the magical sanitation fairies clean up all the garbage from the streets, like, literally there are vacuum cars and trucks that wash the streets. It’s awesome. My only concern is Carnaval. I don’t know if they clean during Carnaval, but they really should, because after one day of the pre-celebration the streets were literally covered in pee and garbage. Either they’ll clean it, or we’ll be up to our knees in basura. I will also let you know how this goes.
3) Babies and dogs. Merz, listen up. Dogs here are the cutest dogs in the world, all sizes, breeds, ages. Some are scruffily, some are really unfortunate looking, but they’re all the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life, hands down. Not just the dogs, but the babies too. I kid you not, American babies suck compared to Spanish babies. THEY ARE SO F ING CUTE. They all ride in strollers until they’re like 5, and they’re parents bundle them up in sleeping bag type things and hats and scarves, so they’re sitting in their strollers with all of their limbs sticking out like cute little starfish. They probably all have heat stroke, but they’re so cute while they’re having heat stroke. And they all have little bikes and toys that they play with and scream Spanish words in their cute little baby Spanish voices. God they’re cute. Marisa is trying to start an album of cute babies and dogs, but it’s really hard to take pictures of peoples’ babies and dogs when you’re already weird for being American. We will have to think of a good way to get around this without getting arrested.
I can now understand pretty much everything my family says, and what people in the streets are talking about. The challenge now is being able to speak back.
Last weekend we all went to Seville. It was AMAZING. We saw la catedral, which is enormous and beautiful. The ceilings had to be about a million feet tall and there were old paintings and various religious artifacts from the 17th century. I’ve never seen anything like it. Also, Alcazar, which was the craziest most amazing building I’ve ever seen. It’s over 1000 years old, like pretty much everything is here. It used to be a Roman fortress, but the Spaniards took it over and turned it into a palace. I have pictures of everything that I will post as soon as I get my package with my USB cord!
I miss and love you all! You’ll be hearing from me soon, because I usually do something really stupid every day.
viernes, 23 de enero de 2009
It's Breetnee!
Today, we finished up our 2 week "intensive" Spanish course. Next week we actually start formal classes at the University. They're every day from about 9 until 2, depending on the day. Once the weather gets better, I will be at the beach everyday afterwards. Every day.
First thing's first. Carnaval. Last Sunday we had a little sneak peek into what it's going to be like. Carnaval is a week long celebration that happens at the end of every February. Everyone comes from all over just to see it and experience it. It's kind of like Halloween, but it lasts a week instead of one night. Everyone dresses up in costumes, and there's lots of beer and food and music and singing. Pretty much the coolest thing ever. So on Sunday, the whole city met up in the Plaza de San Antonio and kind of did that, minus the costumes. Since Cádiz is so close to the sea, they have a lot of seafood (go figure). We decided to be like the locals and try the sea urchins (little hard balls with spikes poking out, otters eat them). Bad idea. It tasted like I went up to the shore of the beach where the water met the sand, and then licked the sand, and immediately licked a dead fish. When in Rome... As the day went on, people moved towards the beaches and the streets, which is where we ended up as well. Before we made it to the beach, we passed through one of the streets, jam packed with people and drummers and everyone dancing. You literally cannot move through the crowds, which is fine, because it was really fun being stuck in the middle of it. I cannot wait for Carnaval.
Oh, and apparently, everyone here thinks I'm Britney Spears, because that's what everyone in the crowd was calling me. I guess it's ok now that she's made her comeback.
Other than that, we've all been trying to explore the city more. It's growing on all of us. I'm still waiting to get my USB cord from my mom so I can put up pictures, but it will happen. This weekend we are going to Sevilla, so I'm sure I'll have plenty more to talk about after that...
One more note. Mullets are back too. All kinds of mullets. Mullets with dreadlocks in the back, fohawk mullets, long ones and short ones. It's sick. And I don't mean in the good way.
Not like the ph phat.
I miss you all and love you lots!
First thing's first. Carnaval. Last Sunday we had a little sneak peek into what it's going to be like. Carnaval is a week long celebration that happens at the end of every February. Everyone comes from all over just to see it and experience it. It's kind of like Halloween, but it lasts a week instead of one night. Everyone dresses up in costumes, and there's lots of beer and food and music and singing. Pretty much the coolest thing ever. So on Sunday, the whole city met up in the Plaza de San Antonio and kind of did that, minus the costumes. Since Cádiz is so close to the sea, they have a lot of seafood (go figure). We decided to be like the locals and try the sea urchins (little hard balls with spikes poking out, otters eat them). Bad idea. It tasted like I went up to the shore of the beach where the water met the sand, and then licked the sand, and immediately licked a dead fish. When in Rome... As the day went on, people moved towards the beaches and the streets, which is where we ended up as well. Before we made it to the beach, we passed through one of the streets, jam packed with people and drummers and everyone dancing. You literally cannot move through the crowds, which is fine, because it was really fun being stuck in the middle of it. I cannot wait for Carnaval.
Oh, and apparently, everyone here thinks I'm Britney Spears, because that's what everyone in the crowd was calling me. I guess it's ok now that she's made her comeback.
Other than that, we've all been trying to explore the city more. It's growing on all of us. I'm still waiting to get my USB cord from my mom so I can put up pictures, but it will happen. This weekend we are going to Sevilla, so I'm sure I'll have plenty more to talk about after that...
One more note. Mullets are back too. All kinds of mullets. Mullets with dreadlocks in the back, fohawk mullets, long ones and short ones. It's sick. And I don't mean in the good way.
Not like the ph phat.
I miss you all and love you lots!
jueves, 15 de enero de 2009
HAMMATIME!
They say that Europe is one year ahead of America when it comes to fashion. If that's true, I'm scared.
MC Hammer pants are back. I kid you not.
It all began at the Madrid airport. I think I saw a total of two girls there wearing hammer pants, both purple. At first I thought maybe they were just baggy sweat pants, but upon further investigation it was clear.
If you don't know what hammer pants are, I'll try and explain. If need be, look up a picture of MC Hammer. I think he's bankrupt now, so I mean, even if you were famous for wearing these pants at one time, you're screwed in the end. Anyway, they're really tight from the ankle to around the knee area, and all of a sudden they balloon out, so it looks like your crotch is at your knees. Aladdin wore them better than anyone. I don't care who you are though, seeing people in hammer pants makes me feel better about leaving the door in sweats (when Marisa and I went running yesterday, I think people wanted to push us into the ocean because our sweatpants didn't match our random oversized t-shirts. Europe makes you feel bad about what you wear in America).
It gets worse. They have hammer jeans here. They are EXACTLY what you think they are.
The grandkids came over again today for lunch. I hope there's some truth in what they say about things getting worse before they get better, because this is the "conversation" I had today.
Ana: Oh it's so cold outside!
Me: Yes.
Ana: You have something on your face that looks like blood.
(I popped a zit earlier and I guess it was red. I don't know the word for zit, and I don't know how to say pop, and that's none of her business, plus she's too young to know about zits, so if it's not embarrassing enough that I popped a zit, I can't even fucking explain it)
Me: (point to face) Here?
Ana: Yes.
Me: Oh, I don't know why.
Oye, picha, ya es la hora. Cervesita time.
MC Hammer pants are back. I kid you not.
It all began at the Madrid airport. I think I saw a total of two girls there wearing hammer pants, both purple. At first I thought maybe they were just baggy sweat pants, but upon further investigation it was clear.
If you don't know what hammer pants are, I'll try and explain. If need be, look up a picture of MC Hammer. I think he's bankrupt now, so I mean, even if you were famous for wearing these pants at one time, you're screwed in the end. Anyway, they're really tight from the ankle to around the knee area, and all of a sudden they balloon out, so it looks like your crotch is at your knees. Aladdin wore them better than anyone. I don't care who you are though, seeing people in hammer pants makes me feel better about leaving the door in sweats (when Marisa and I went running yesterday, I think people wanted to push us into the ocean because our sweatpants didn't match our random oversized t-shirts. Europe makes you feel bad about what you wear in America).
It gets worse. They have hammer jeans here. They are EXACTLY what you think they are.
The grandkids came over again today for lunch. I hope there's some truth in what they say about things getting worse before they get better, because this is the "conversation" I had today.
Ana: Oh it's so cold outside!
Me: Yes.
Ana: You have something on your face that looks like blood.
(I popped a zit earlier and I guess it was red. I don't know the word for zit, and I don't know how to say pop, and that's none of her business, plus she's too young to know about zits, so if it's not embarrassing enough that I popped a zit, I can't even fucking explain it)
Me: (point to face) Here?
Ana: Yes.
Me: Oh, I don't know why.
Oye, picha, ya es la hora. Cervesita time.
miércoles, 14 de enero de 2009
Please get online. WAAAHHH
Miercoles el 14
The internet situation is really starting to become a problem. If I'm at home, I'm either eating a meal, taking a siesta, sleeping (those are two different things), or doing homework. The rest of the time, we all sit out in the plazas, patiently awaiting to hear the fun noises that come out of skype to tell us that someone is online! NO ONE IS EVER ONLINE! WAAAHHHH.
I'm really beginning to realize how much we take the privilege of having internet in our bedrooms for granted. So for now, I will sit in the plaza until my fingers freeze off and I can't type anymore.
My skype name is mosz1987, and my cell phone number is (34) 669 277 339. Please. Contact me.
Today after lunch, I told my madre that I was going to go running. I don't know if I've written much about her, but she's really funny, and I'm starting to understand her better. She's really loud and talks super fast, not weird for people from Andalucía. So anyway, I told her I was going to go running...
Me: So, I'm going to take a nap and then go for a run with my friend
Madre: Oh good! Did you like your lunch?
Me: Yes of course, you're the best cook in Spain
Madre: Well clearly! You're going to have to go running if you don't want to get a fat ass!
And at this point she sort of taps each butt cheek with her hands. People are very close here, as you can see.
Marisa and I went running by the ocean. Even though it is shitty weather still, it's beautiful, and it'll be that much better once I can remember what the sun looks like.
So it's off to the new part of town tonight. We'll see how that goes.
Adios picha
The internet situation is really starting to become a problem. If I'm at home, I'm either eating a meal, taking a siesta, sleeping (those are two different things), or doing homework. The rest of the time, we all sit out in the plazas, patiently awaiting to hear the fun noises that come out of skype to tell us that someone is online! NO ONE IS EVER ONLINE! WAAAHHHH.
I'm really beginning to realize how much we take the privilege of having internet in our bedrooms for granted. So for now, I will sit in the plaza until my fingers freeze off and I can't type anymore.
My skype name is mosz1987, and my cell phone number is (34) 669 277 339. Please. Contact me.
Today after lunch, I told my madre that I was going to go running. I don't know if I've written much about her, but she's really funny, and I'm starting to understand her better. She's really loud and talks super fast, not weird for people from Andalucía. So anyway, I told her I was going to go running...
Me: So, I'm going to take a nap and then go for a run with my friend
Madre: Oh good! Did you like your lunch?
Me: Yes of course, you're the best cook in Spain
Madre: Well clearly! You're going to have to go running if you don't want to get a fat ass!
And at this point she sort of taps each butt cheek with her hands. People are very close here, as you can see.
Marisa and I went running by the ocean. Even though it is shitty weather still, it's beautiful, and it'll be that much better once I can remember what the sun looks like.
So it's off to the new part of town tonight. We'll see how that goes.
Adios picha
martes, 13 de enero de 2009
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.
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.
We are weird.
Lunes el 12
I really need to learn Spanish better. Last night, before dinner, mi madre me preguntó something about the first day of class (that started this morning). I kind of understood her, I remember her saying something about what time I want to wake up, and I asked her what time the class started, and she told me either it started at 9, or I had to get up at 9, or 8, or something. She asked me if I had an alarm clock, but I had absolutely no idea what she was saying, so I asked her to repeat herself 2 times until she finally had to point at a clock and say “DA DA DA DA DA,” such as an alarm clock would do in the morning. I am a stupid American.
Marisa made a really good point the other day. I don’t know if any of you have ever known an exchange student in high school or anything like that, but it’s like that one person who just sticks out like a sore thumb, and for some reason, everything they do is really really weird. You could just watch them do whatever they’re doing and you just think, “They’re SO WEIRD.” I am that weird person now.
Anyway, I managed to make it to class today on time. For the next two weeks, before formal classes start at the University, we are taking a daily intensive course that lasts 3 hours every morning, and then in the evenings we usually have some other meeting for whatever. I’m getting used to the place little by little, but I still would love to come at home tonight to my madhouse in Seattle and see my best friends. Engie, SJ, Steph, and Merz. I miss you guys like crazy and I wish you could be here to see how bad I fuck up. It’s pretty funny actually.
Also, even though I’ve found the internet, I can’t be out there very late to use it, which is horrible considering my family and friends are all 9 hours behind us. According to Marisa’s padre, he knew a girl who was sitting out en la plaza alone and someone just straight up jacked her laptop from her lap. Unfortunately she forgot the word for robber or thief (ladron!) so all she could do (sorry internet went out…imagine that. I posted an incomplete story because I am a stupid American) was sit there and watch her laptop get stolen. I’m trying to use Skype. Skype is free and I like free stuff. But the time difference is murder right now.
You guys would not believe the daily schedule here. Spanish people drink and smoke all day every day, and eat 5 meals a day. However, they are skinnier, healthier, and have longer life expectancies than any Americans do. How, you ask? No stress. There is absolutely no stress here, and it is amazing. The only stress I am suffering from is not being able to understand 50 percent of what comes out of people’s mouths. I’m ok with that for now. It will come to me.
Days go like this: I wake up for class at 8 and need to be there at 9. I have desayuno somewhere in between, which consists of coffee and a little pastry (mi madre makes me eat them. Weird). Then, I go to school, and at 11:30 we have another half hour break, when people usually eat again. I just have another cup of coffee and some fruit (coffee here is amazing by the way. Amazing). Finish up classes by 1:30 and you guessed it, we eat again at 3. A really big meal. A lot of people in Spain eat somewhere in between comida y cena (lunch and dinner), but I’m still full from lunch usually. Stupid American! Then, after la comida, we take ciestas, which is fucking awesome. They encourage sleep during the day here. I sleep for one or two hours, go to another class or meeting, then come home, do a little homework, and have dinner at 10. Super crazy. Most people are sleeping or going out by then, but not us. We eat (they always eat). Then, at around 11:30 or 12, we start walking around the streets, brown bagging and open bottling. Spain also encourages drinking and socializing in the streets. We do this until about 2, when everyone starts actually going to the bars and the nightlife starts. We obviously can’t be out that late on school nights, but on the weekends, this is normal.
Mi madre told me that on the weekends, todas las jovenes (all the young people) go out and come home at 5 or 6 in the morning. Sleeping til 3 is totally ok. SHIBBY!
I really need to learn Spanish better. Last night, before dinner, mi madre me preguntó something about the first day of class (that started this morning). I kind of understood her, I remember her saying something about what time I want to wake up, and I asked her what time the class started, and she told me either it started at 9, or I had to get up at 9, or 8, or something. She asked me if I had an alarm clock, but I had absolutely no idea what she was saying, so I asked her to repeat herself 2 times until she finally had to point at a clock and say “DA DA DA DA DA,” such as an alarm clock would do in the morning. I am a stupid American.
Marisa made a really good point the other day. I don’t know if any of you have ever known an exchange student in high school or anything like that, but it’s like that one person who just sticks out like a sore thumb, and for some reason, everything they do is really really weird. You could just watch them do whatever they’re doing and you just think, “They’re SO WEIRD.” I am that weird person now.
Anyway, I managed to make it to class today on time. For the next two weeks, before formal classes start at the University, we are taking a daily intensive course that lasts 3 hours every morning, and then in the evenings we usually have some other meeting for whatever. I’m getting used to the place little by little, but I still would love to come at home tonight to my madhouse in Seattle and see my best friends. Engie, SJ, Steph, and Merz. I miss you guys like crazy and I wish you could be here to see how bad I fuck up. It’s pretty funny actually.
Also, even though I’ve found the internet, I can’t be out there very late to use it, which is horrible considering my family and friends are all 9 hours behind us. According to Marisa’s padre, he knew a girl who was sitting out en la plaza alone and someone just straight up jacked her laptop from her lap. Unfortunately she forgot the word for robber or thief (ladron!) so all she could do (sorry internet went out…imagine that. I posted an incomplete story because I am a stupid American) was sit there and watch her laptop get stolen. I’m trying to use Skype. Skype is free and I like free stuff. But the time difference is murder right now.
You guys would not believe the daily schedule here. Spanish people drink and smoke all day every day, and eat 5 meals a day. However, they are skinnier, healthier, and have longer life expectancies than any Americans do. How, you ask? No stress. There is absolutely no stress here, and it is amazing. The only stress I am suffering from is not being able to understand 50 percent of what comes out of people’s mouths. I’m ok with that for now. It will come to me.
Days go like this: I wake up for class at 8 and need to be there at 9. I have desayuno somewhere in between, which consists of coffee and a little pastry (mi madre makes me eat them. Weird). Then, I go to school, and at 11:30 we have another half hour break, when people usually eat again. I just have another cup of coffee and some fruit (coffee here is amazing by the way. Amazing). Finish up classes by 1:30 and you guessed it, we eat again at 3. A really big meal. A lot of people in Spain eat somewhere in between comida y cena (lunch and dinner), but I’m still full from lunch usually. Stupid American! Then, after la comida, we take ciestas, which is fucking awesome. They encourage sleep during the day here. I sleep for one or two hours, go to another class or meeting, then come home, do a little homework, and have dinner at 10. Super crazy. Most people are sleeping or going out by then, but not us. We eat (they always eat). Then, at around 11:30 or 12, we start walking around the streets, brown bagging and open bottling. Spain also encourages drinking and socializing in the streets. We do this until about 2, when everyone starts actually going to the bars and the nightlife starts. We obviously can’t be out that late on school nights, but on the weekends, this is normal.
Mi madre told me that on the weekends, todas las jovenes (all the young people) go out and come home at 5 or 6 in the morning. Sleeping til 3 is totally ok. SHIBBY!
lunes, 12 de enero de 2009
Wait...So, we have to sleep on the floor, again??
Saying goodbye to my family, my best friends (who I live with and adore), and my boyfriend (who I love to death) for five months was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Once I made it through the 9 hour flight to London full of screaming babies and 3 glasses of wine (gratis) I thought that catching connecting flights to Madrid, Jerez, and finally Cádiz would be cake.
Wrong.
A group of 11 of us took the British Airways flight together to Heathrow. We flew out of Seattle at 7 pm, and arrived in London the next day at noon (due to the 8 hour time difference). All of us were extremely jet lagged and completely ready to catch our connecting flight to Madrid, which was supposed to leave at 2:30. This is where the disaster of 3 days of travel on 4 hours of sleep began.
We quickly got off the plain at Heathrow and made our way to our gate. If you’ve never been to Heathrow, it is roughly the size of the city of Seattle. We had to take a 10 minute bus ride to get to our terminal and catch our connecting flight, which gave us plenty of time to make fun of how British people drive on the wrong side of the road, and say things like ‘wanker” and “cheerio” (which they do, I heard both). Up until actually going to the UK, I kind of always though British people were imaginary. They’re accents were so cute, I’ve seen lots of them on TV, and even if they were cussing you out it would still be impossible to get pissed at someone who calls you a silly ninny. Anyway, we finally got to our gate and tried to relax before boarding our next flight. Flying makes me really REALLY thrirsty, which is really unfortunate in Europe, because apparently they don’t believe in water fountains. At every airport they have tons of Duty Frees, random liquor stores and wine shops, but they don’t sell water for less than your first born. I decided to run to the bathroom to fill my water bottle up, since they kept throwing my water bottles away at security I didn’t want to buy another one. I started to fill it up in the sink and the cleaning lady who was mopping my feet told me to move over, so I went to the other sink. It took me roughly 36 minutes to fill my little 16 ounce bottle, since the faucet was motion censored I kept having to move the bottle in and out and line it up perfectly with a 2 second stream of water. I was just about to quench my thirst when the cleaning lady screamed “YOU can’t DRINK DAT! What are you tinking??” Well, I’m tinking that there are no fucking water fountains in this country and I don’t want to spend 20 pounds for a bottle, so I’m going to drink this luke-warm free water, thank you. Yum. “Dat water no is for drinking! Es for wash your hands!’ “Oh, really?” I say, sounding surprised, like this woman had just enlightened me, because I don’t know what else to say, and I really don’t know why I’m talking back in the first place. “YES! Where you from anyway?” Fuck fuck fuck fuck I panic and say “America.” She looks back at me and says, “MMMMMHMMMMM!” God damnit, I’ve been out of the country for like an hour and I’m already making an ass out of myself. And I’m not even in Spain yet, I’m in LONDON, THEY SPEAK ENGLISH THERE. I was thirsty, and we can do things like drink tap water in America. I should’ve said I was from Canada. Whatever.
So I go back to the gate to sit down. After about an hour all of us realize that we haven’t seen anyone up at the desk of the gate, which is odd because we were supposed to board the plane fairly soon. 3 of the girls in our group had tickets for a plane that was supposed to leave an hour after ours, so they were checking their baggage. A few minutes later they come back to our gate to inform us that their flight has been cancelled, because the entire Madrid airport is shut down.
We are screwed.
The following events quickly turn into a blur. We had to go find someone to confirm that the Madrid airport was shut down because if it snows in Madrid, or Spain for that matter, the country riots, and airports completely shut down without telling a single person what the hell is going on. Next we had to go collect our baggage, which was supposed to be checked all the way through to Madrid. Keep in mind we’re all supposed to be in Cadiz for 5 months, so I have a shitload of bags, and I packed light. For the next 5 hours, we dragged our asses around all 4 billion square miles of Heathrow, trying to get our flights changed. The group quickly dwindled down to 8 people, who all managed to get onto a flight for 8 the next morning. This either meant that we would have to get a hotel for the night, or sleep in Heathrow. When we asked the manager at British Airways if he would put us up for the night he laughed. HE LAUGHED. We didn’t think it was that funny, and we didn’t think that we should have to pay 50 pounds to sleep in a bed for less than 6 hours.
Well, we did.
Trust me, we attempted to avoid spending that money. From about 6 til 10 pm, our group wandered around, looking for corners or nooks to sleep in. We would then pile up our baggage awkwardly and try and sleep on top of it, but considering that we had all of our shit with us it became comparible to sleeping big uncomfortable boulders. Plus, wherever we went, after finally getting settled, someone would come in and tell us we couldn’t sleep there. I think we were tarninshing Heathrow’s reputation by trying to sleep in public. That’s for bums. On one had we did look a lot like homeless people, but on the other hand we hadn’t slept in like 30 hours, so a bench in a café looks like a California King size bed.
In the end, 10 at night, Marisa, Samantha, Ben and I gave in and got a hotel. Well, the bus ride there was free, so we got that goin for us... We immediately passed out once we hit our beds, but due to the time difference found ourselves waking up every hour convinced that it was the next day and we missed our flight. It also didn’t help that we didn’t have a clock in our room (I know, what the fuck right?). I got 4 hours of sleep. Better than zero I guess.
Fortunately we did catch our flight in the morning, and got into Madrid at around 11. The plan was to then catch a flight to Jerez de la Frontera at 4 because it’s the closest airport to Cádiz. The only problem here (actually there was more than one problem) was that no one speaks English in Madrid, clearly, and no one has cute little British accents. They have crazy accents that are near impossible to understand. If you are from Madrid or Barcelona, many of the c’s and s’s turn into “THS” (like a lisp) if they’re follwed by a certain vowel, and people from the Cadiz area completely drop s’s out of the middle and ends of verbs, so the 7 years of Spanish I’ve taken quickly becomes kind of useless. Shit. So, we’re looking at the board trying to figure out what gate or flight is on, but it isn’t listed. This is bad, this means we actually have to try and speak Spanish already, on zero sleep. I ask a man at information if he knows anything about the Iberia flight 158 (apparently he understood, amazing) and he said some crazy shit back to me. I got the words “I don’t know” and “probably won’t know until 5”. Well that’s funny, because our flight leaves at 4… hmm. Whatever. So we found a spot on the cold marble floor (Spain believes a little bit more in water fountains, but they don’t believe in carpet) that was close to the flight board. We wait here. And wait. And wait. Finally we see that our flight has been delayed until 6, but there’s no gate listed. At this point it’s 4, then 4:30, then 5, still no gate. We run into some more of the people from our group who got separated and they tell us where one of the gates is that the Jerez flights have been going out of. We go there. At this point, walking is extremely difficult. None of us have eaten anything but the little tiny meals on our flights, and have had barely any water because apparently if you drink the tap water you will die. After 3 gate changes we got to our final gate, but there was no information about the time when we would be taking off. I was not going to sleep on the floor again, and this time be laughed at in Spanish and have no idea what people were saying about me. Rachel and I dedided to try and find some food and coffee. As we were leaving the café, we saw a flight board right outside of the café, and Rachel looks at me and says, “We’re boarding?” Of course, because that would only make sense based on our trip thus far. We sprint back to our gate and are literally just in time to make the flight. I’m still confused.
We landed in Jerez at about 9:30, but we still need to get to Cadiz, which is another 45 minute drive. We all have to take taxis, 3 or 4 to a car, which ends up being about 20 euros per person. I attempt to talk to our taxi driver, to try and warm up my Spanish a little bit. I guess it worked, because he seemed to understand me. When we arrived in Cadiz, I was kind of blown away. Partly because the city is so beautiful, but it is also very compact, and at this point I’m extremely tired so I don’t really know what to think. It’s also freezing butt ass cold. GLOBAL WARMING IS REAL. Ben and I, who live in the same building, somehow find our houses. Since Cadiz is over 3 thousand years old, they preserve the old part of the city by not really building anything, so all of the buildings are built up higher. We walk into our building at around 11, and we honestly don’t know if it’s the right place. Thankfully, Ben’s host dad, Pepe, sees us and says “TATATA TATA TA TA ESTUDIANTES? TATATATATA” or something. Sí sí sí somos estudiantes! We made it. Our family came and brought us into our houses, and we were finally left alone to fend for ourselves with people who we cannot understand at all. I still have barely any idea what anyone says around here, but I’m hoping I will start to understand soon. Until then, I will walk around with a smile on my face that says “I’m American and nice! But I have no idea what the fuck you are saying to me! Yeah! ☺ “
Today, I woke up at 12. I definitely could have slept for longer, but I felt bad and lazy, So I woke up. Oh my god, you would not believe how much food the people try and make you eat here. My host mom is a great cook, but my stomach is only so big. Last night, I’m not kidding, the second I walked in the door she grabbed my hand “Venga venga!” C’mon let’s go! I was sat down at the table and she asked me “tienes hambre?” Hell yeah I’m hungry! She brought out a bowl of soup and I’m thinking yes, food, this is perfect. Through bites I tried to answer questions that I didn’t really understand in my broken Spanish. I was almost done with my soup and trying to talk to my host Dad, Neno, when Francisca brought me arroz, like a paella, with seafood (Cadiz is surrounded by ocean, lots of fresh seafood). She wasn’t done. Pan (bread), Carne (pork), and some vegitable thingie. Holy shit, I thought I was good with the soup. Everything is delicious but my stomach is not that big. The only reason people aren’t fat here is because you walk EVERYWHERE. I went to bed full for the first time in 3 days.
So this morning, I had my café con leche a las 12, and my host mom made me eat some dulces which is fine but I’m still full from last night. Next, I got to shower finally. The downside is that water is really expensive and we can only take like 5 minute showers. I have a problem with this. I obviously will have to learn to adjust, as well as learn how to shave my legs in 30 seconds. Shit.
Next, we went out to walk around the city, and my host parents tried to teach me some things. I listened, but I didn’t learn much, because I can’t understand them. We had some more food in el centro, and cervesitas (little glasses of beer) and walked around some more. The problem was they kept running into people and I would have to introduce myself and make an ass out of myself in front of more people. At around 3 we walked to get some tapas and cervesas, and the food is so good but I’m telling you, my stomach is not that big. After we eat, we walk home to sleep. Spain is awesome. I just need to learn how to talk to people.
Ben and Marisa and I all live really close, which is nice. We found the internet today! There is free WiFi in la Plaza de Palilleros, about 5 or 10 minutes from my house. Thank god.
Wrong.
A group of 11 of us took the British Airways flight together to Heathrow. We flew out of Seattle at 7 pm, and arrived in London the next day at noon (due to the 8 hour time difference). All of us were extremely jet lagged and completely ready to catch our connecting flight to Madrid, which was supposed to leave at 2:30. This is where the disaster of 3 days of travel on 4 hours of sleep began.
We quickly got off the plain at Heathrow and made our way to our gate. If you’ve never been to Heathrow, it is roughly the size of the city of Seattle. We had to take a 10 minute bus ride to get to our terminal and catch our connecting flight, which gave us plenty of time to make fun of how British people drive on the wrong side of the road, and say things like ‘wanker” and “cheerio” (which they do, I heard both). Up until actually going to the UK, I kind of always though British people were imaginary. They’re accents were so cute, I’ve seen lots of them on TV, and even if they were cussing you out it would still be impossible to get pissed at someone who calls you a silly ninny. Anyway, we finally got to our gate and tried to relax before boarding our next flight. Flying makes me really REALLY thrirsty, which is really unfortunate in Europe, because apparently they don’t believe in water fountains. At every airport they have tons of Duty Frees, random liquor stores and wine shops, but they don’t sell water for less than your first born. I decided to run to the bathroom to fill my water bottle up, since they kept throwing my water bottles away at security I didn’t want to buy another one. I started to fill it up in the sink and the cleaning lady who was mopping my feet told me to move over, so I went to the other sink. It took me roughly 36 minutes to fill my little 16 ounce bottle, since the faucet was motion censored I kept having to move the bottle in and out and line it up perfectly with a 2 second stream of water. I was just about to quench my thirst when the cleaning lady screamed “YOU can’t DRINK DAT! What are you tinking??” Well, I’m tinking that there are no fucking water fountains in this country and I don’t want to spend 20 pounds for a bottle, so I’m going to drink this luke-warm free water, thank you. Yum. “Dat water no is for drinking! Es for wash your hands!’ “Oh, really?” I say, sounding surprised, like this woman had just enlightened me, because I don’t know what else to say, and I really don’t know why I’m talking back in the first place. “YES! Where you from anyway?” Fuck fuck fuck fuck I panic and say “America.” She looks back at me and says, “MMMMMHMMMMM!” God damnit, I’ve been out of the country for like an hour and I’m already making an ass out of myself. And I’m not even in Spain yet, I’m in LONDON, THEY SPEAK ENGLISH THERE. I was thirsty, and we can do things like drink tap water in America. I should’ve said I was from Canada. Whatever.
So I go back to the gate to sit down. After about an hour all of us realize that we haven’t seen anyone up at the desk of the gate, which is odd because we were supposed to board the plane fairly soon. 3 of the girls in our group had tickets for a plane that was supposed to leave an hour after ours, so they were checking their baggage. A few minutes later they come back to our gate to inform us that their flight has been cancelled, because the entire Madrid airport is shut down.
We are screwed.
The following events quickly turn into a blur. We had to go find someone to confirm that the Madrid airport was shut down because if it snows in Madrid, or Spain for that matter, the country riots, and airports completely shut down without telling a single person what the hell is going on. Next we had to go collect our baggage, which was supposed to be checked all the way through to Madrid. Keep in mind we’re all supposed to be in Cadiz for 5 months, so I have a shitload of bags, and I packed light. For the next 5 hours, we dragged our asses around all 4 billion square miles of Heathrow, trying to get our flights changed. The group quickly dwindled down to 8 people, who all managed to get onto a flight for 8 the next morning. This either meant that we would have to get a hotel for the night, or sleep in Heathrow. When we asked the manager at British Airways if he would put us up for the night he laughed. HE LAUGHED. We didn’t think it was that funny, and we didn’t think that we should have to pay 50 pounds to sleep in a bed for less than 6 hours.
Well, we did.
Trust me, we attempted to avoid spending that money. From about 6 til 10 pm, our group wandered around, looking for corners or nooks to sleep in. We would then pile up our baggage awkwardly and try and sleep on top of it, but considering that we had all of our shit with us it became comparible to sleeping big uncomfortable boulders. Plus, wherever we went, after finally getting settled, someone would come in and tell us we couldn’t sleep there. I think we were tarninshing Heathrow’s reputation by trying to sleep in public. That’s for bums. On one had we did look a lot like homeless people, but on the other hand we hadn’t slept in like 30 hours, so a bench in a café looks like a California King size bed.
In the end, 10 at night, Marisa, Samantha, Ben and I gave in and got a hotel. Well, the bus ride there was free, so we got that goin for us... We immediately passed out once we hit our beds, but due to the time difference found ourselves waking up every hour convinced that it was the next day and we missed our flight. It also didn’t help that we didn’t have a clock in our room (I know, what the fuck right?). I got 4 hours of sleep. Better than zero I guess.
Fortunately we did catch our flight in the morning, and got into Madrid at around 11. The plan was to then catch a flight to Jerez de la Frontera at 4 because it’s the closest airport to Cádiz. The only problem here (actually there was more than one problem) was that no one speaks English in Madrid, clearly, and no one has cute little British accents. They have crazy accents that are near impossible to understand. If you are from Madrid or Barcelona, many of the c’s and s’s turn into “THS” (like a lisp) if they’re follwed by a certain vowel, and people from the Cadiz area completely drop s’s out of the middle and ends of verbs, so the 7 years of Spanish I’ve taken quickly becomes kind of useless. Shit. So, we’re looking at the board trying to figure out what gate or flight is on, but it isn’t listed. This is bad, this means we actually have to try and speak Spanish already, on zero sleep. I ask a man at information if he knows anything about the Iberia flight 158 (apparently he understood, amazing) and he said some crazy shit back to me. I got the words “I don’t know” and “probably won’t know until 5”. Well that’s funny, because our flight leaves at 4… hmm. Whatever. So we found a spot on the cold marble floor (Spain believes a little bit more in water fountains, but they don’t believe in carpet) that was close to the flight board. We wait here. And wait. And wait. Finally we see that our flight has been delayed until 6, but there’s no gate listed. At this point it’s 4, then 4:30, then 5, still no gate. We run into some more of the people from our group who got separated and they tell us where one of the gates is that the Jerez flights have been going out of. We go there. At this point, walking is extremely difficult. None of us have eaten anything but the little tiny meals on our flights, and have had barely any water because apparently if you drink the tap water you will die. After 3 gate changes we got to our final gate, but there was no information about the time when we would be taking off. I was not going to sleep on the floor again, and this time be laughed at in Spanish and have no idea what people were saying about me. Rachel and I dedided to try and find some food and coffee. As we were leaving the café, we saw a flight board right outside of the café, and Rachel looks at me and says, “We’re boarding?” Of course, because that would only make sense based on our trip thus far. We sprint back to our gate and are literally just in time to make the flight. I’m still confused.
We landed in Jerez at about 9:30, but we still need to get to Cadiz, which is another 45 minute drive. We all have to take taxis, 3 or 4 to a car, which ends up being about 20 euros per person. I attempt to talk to our taxi driver, to try and warm up my Spanish a little bit. I guess it worked, because he seemed to understand me. When we arrived in Cadiz, I was kind of blown away. Partly because the city is so beautiful, but it is also very compact, and at this point I’m extremely tired so I don’t really know what to think. It’s also freezing butt ass cold. GLOBAL WARMING IS REAL. Ben and I, who live in the same building, somehow find our houses. Since Cadiz is over 3 thousand years old, they preserve the old part of the city by not really building anything, so all of the buildings are built up higher. We walk into our building at around 11, and we honestly don’t know if it’s the right place. Thankfully, Ben’s host dad, Pepe, sees us and says “TATATA TATA TA TA ESTUDIANTES? TATATATATA” or something. Sí sí sí somos estudiantes! We made it. Our family came and brought us into our houses, and we were finally left alone to fend for ourselves with people who we cannot understand at all. I still have barely any idea what anyone says around here, but I’m hoping I will start to understand soon. Until then, I will walk around with a smile on my face that says “I’m American and nice! But I have no idea what the fuck you are saying to me! Yeah! ☺ “
Today, I woke up at 12. I definitely could have slept for longer, but I felt bad and lazy, So I woke up. Oh my god, you would not believe how much food the people try and make you eat here. My host mom is a great cook, but my stomach is only so big. Last night, I’m not kidding, the second I walked in the door she grabbed my hand “Venga venga!” C’mon let’s go! I was sat down at the table and she asked me “tienes hambre?” Hell yeah I’m hungry! She brought out a bowl of soup and I’m thinking yes, food, this is perfect. Through bites I tried to answer questions that I didn’t really understand in my broken Spanish. I was almost done with my soup and trying to talk to my host Dad, Neno, when Francisca brought me arroz, like a paella, with seafood (Cadiz is surrounded by ocean, lots of fresh seafood). She wasn’t done. Pan (bread), Carne (pork), and some vegitable thingie. Holy shit, I thought I was good with the soup. Everything is delicious but my stomach is not that big. The only reason people aren’t fat here is because you walk EVERYWHERE. I went to bed full for the first time in 3 days.
So this morning, I had my café con leche a las 12, and my host mom made me eat some dulces which is fine but I’m still full from last night. Next, I got to shower finally. The downside is that water is really expensive and we can only take like 5 minute showers. I have a problem with this. I obviously will have to learn to adjust, as well as learn how to shave my legs in 30 seconds. Shit.
Next, we went out to walk around the city, and my host parents tried to teach me some things. I listened, but I didn’t learn much, because I can’t understand them. We had some more food in el centro, and cervesitas (little glasses of beer) and walked around some more. The problem was they kept running into people and I would have to introduce myself and make an ass out of myself in front of more people. At around 3 we walked to get some tapas and cervesas, and the food is so good but I’m telling you, my stomach is not that big. After we eat, we walk home to sleep. Spain is awesome. I just need to learn how to talk to people.
Ben and Marisa and I all live really close, which is nice. We found the internet today! There is free WiFi in la Plaza de Palilleros, about 5 or 10 minutes from my house. Thank god.
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