So it's been forEVER since I blogged last. Por eso hay muchas cosas that I haven't told you about yet. Muchas muchas cosas! So I will devote this post to a bunch of highlights of all the things I've been doing instead of detailed accounts of a few things.
First on the list: Cordoba. I went there long long ago, at the end of October actually. We visited lots of beautiful monuments, like the Cathedral which used to be a mosque and is one of the largest in the world. You walk in and there's a veritable forest of columns topped by the famous striped double arches, and if you look diagonally at the right angle you see paths everywhere. I felt, once again, like I was in an art history book. We also visited an old castle with large gardens all around, and walking along the battlements made me want to be a princess ... or at least really rich so I could buy a castle and pretend to be one on the weekends or something. There was one neighborhood, the old Jewish quarter, that they called the Juderia, which really amused me. I will tell you why. When you add the suffix -eria to a noun, it means a place where they sell that thing. A "fruteria" is where they sell "frutas," a "cafeteria" is where they sell "cafe," and a "juderia" is where they sell "judios," no? That's at least how it struck me. Very pretty city, all in all.
Next up: the Alhambra. Also very pretty, and kind of the reason I chose Granada. Or, at least, related to the reason, that being the unique and wonderful Moorish history here. You can see this history all around you in the Alhambra, from the ancient and beautiful Arabic tracery on the walls to the huge Renaissance square the Christian king Charles V dumped in the middle. There are fountains running through the whole palace, powered by none other than our simple friend gravity. The builders of the Alhambra were so genius that they connected all the fountains and pools to one another, organizing it so that the water naturally flows gracefully from one patio into the next without any outside help. The most famous patio, the Patio de los Leones, was under construction while I was there, and I was disappointed by it anyway, and I would have been had it been functional. It was so much smaller than I expected! But other than that small disappointment I loved the place.
The weekend after that I went to Barcelona, which I've already told you about, so I will skip that here.
After that came my roommate Julianne's 21st birthday! Her mom was in town for the week, and she actually came out with us to celebrate. She acted more like a friend than a mom, or rather a great mix of the two. We went to a couple bars, and although we didn't expect her to Julie's mom even went with us to the discoteca! A good time was had by all.
Then there was Thanksgiving, Spanish style. Our group directors gave us a dinner in a restaurant, where we would presumably have typical Thanksgiving food. It was a very nice gesture ... but the food was a sincere disappointment. We had some very tasty appetizers (tomatoes with some sort of sauce), but then a very salty soup, and then it was time for the main course. They brought out the plates, and I wouldn't have known the meat was turkey had I not been expecting it. It was more like turkey loaf cut in the shape of a steak, and whatever gravy they had covered it in was odd. The potatoes that came with it were some sort of weird cheesy puree, not bad exactly, but certainly not right. Last we got some pumpkin pie covered in powdered sugar with cream on the side, and that was the best part of the meal. It was delicious and tasted right. The only problem with the pie was that there wasn't enough of it. Nor was there enough food in general, to my way of thinking; I was only normally full, not so stuffed I could barely move like you're "supposed" to be after Thanksgiving dinner. It was a fun dinner, though; I just wish the food had been better.
The next day we left for Sevilla, whence I have just returned yesterday. We wandered over a fair amount of the city, through parks and castles, and learned about Sevilla's history with World Expos and sailing schools. We toured the Cathedral, which was beautiful and very very Gothic and contained some of the remains of Christopher Columbus (the rest might be in the Caribbean, but it hasn't been verified). There were large lovely stained-glass windows, pointed arch groin vaults, and flying buttresses and all that jazz. While we were there a rehearsal of a children's choir was in progress, and they were doing dances that have remained the same since the 15th century. Very cute. We went up the tower via 37 ramps -- ramps because the king who had it built wanted to ride his horse all the way to the top instead of walking. There were some breathtaking views of the city from the top, and lots of big bells staring down at me. Saturday night some friends and I went to a bar to see a great flamenco show: Sevilla being more or less the flamenco capital, we thought it was appropriate, and it was quite good. The last place we saw was the Plaza d'Espanya, a big plaza and buildings built for the 1929 World Expo, which was a disaster (think about October of that year), but the building was lovely. Around the arms of the monument are ceramic representations of each important city in the country, each with something special to that city and a map showing where it is. Needless to say, the Granada one was very popular with our group.
So that's a summary of the past several weeks, or at least the excursions contained therein. Hope you enjoyed it! I'll be home in two and a half weeks .... I honestly don't know what to think about that.
Besitos!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
sunbathing in november? yes please! or, Barcelona wins at life
I'm so tired and so sore, but in such a very good way! No, not like that; get your mind out of the gutter. I'm tired and sore because I spent the whole weekend dancing, and I wish it weren't over yet. This past Thursday I skipped out of class early to get on a plane to go hang out in Barcelona for the weekend, meeting a friend from school, Mark Katz, to go dancing dancing dancing, and tearing myself away on Sunday afternoon. It turned out to be the best weekend I've spent in Spain and one of the best in my whole life for several reasons. Mostly it was the three great swing parties in two excellent nights, but the beach and the weather also had a lot to do with it.
I suppose I hadn't truly realized how much I've missed dancing every week until I actually had the opportunity to go swing dancing ... on our way to the first place on Friday night, neither Mark nor I could stop ourselves from busting out random dance moves and steps as we walked faster than usual, excited to get there as soon as possible. It was in a large bar on the top floor of the mall, and one wall was mostly windows that looked out over Port Vell and the Mediterranean. We got there fairly early and danced a couple songs with each other, and by the time we decided to get a drink the floor was largely full of dancers, all of whom seemed to be very good. There was one guy that I noticed because of his sweet newsboy-style hat but continued to watch because of his attitude, skill, and obvious enjoyment of the dancing. Actually, no, I noticed him because of a particular classy and sexy move he did with a partner, a move that I always like to watch and usually wish someone would do with me. (For those who know/care, it's that one in a very close blues-ish closed position where the lead swings the follow's torso out and around. Doug and Jenny do it a lot, which with the hat led to us calling that couple "fake Doug and Jenny.") Fake Doug was obviously very good, and knew he was, but he wasn't cocky or arrogant about it-- he just did sweet moves because he wanted to, not to show off. That, in my opinion, is the best kind of dancer there is. So during the three hours we were at that bar several guys asked me to dance, all of whom were very good, and I did dance with "Doug" ... in fact, I developed quite the dance crush on him that night. He was the perfect size to dance with, strong but not too strong, gentle but firm, and he was always smiling (and what a smile!). Eventually, however, we decided to irnos to another party we knew was going on that night, and that one took some getting to. Just as we were about to give up and go back to the hostel, however, we suddenly happened across the hole-in-the-wall ballroom we were looking for. Turns out that was very fortunate for several reasons, not least of which was the fact that there were much-needed drinks included with the entry (Cokes, nothing to impair dancing ability) and an extremely good dance floor. But more, much more than that, the bartender told us that that weekend there happened to be a touring couple teaching in Barcelona and that they were in that very room and also giving a performance at a party on Saturday. Needless to say, we were excited and definitely planned to attend the party the next night. I danced with the lead of the touring couple (he was from California and of course very good, but also quite cocky in a California sort of way ... you know what I mean) and a couple other guys, and Mark danced with some Catalan girls. We were pretty beat by that time, though, so we headed out and back to the hostel. The next night the party was in a large real ballroom complete with chairs around the sides for resting and a stage for the live band and an upper level from which to spectate. The average level of dance skill seemed to have gone down a bit with regards to the previous night (a function of there being a lot more people), but the average level of class had gone quite up ... we walked in and immediately I noticed at least two guys on the floor in very classy hats, and one of them was "Doug" from the night before! Mark and I had an excellent time dancing, watching, and talking about all the great dancers there. There was one septi-genarian there who still quite had the moves and was dancing with almost all the young girls and throwing aerial steps; we wondered what he was like at 25 and figured he probably had a different girl every night. Mark decided the reason he wasn't there with a wife was that he couldn't decide which one to marry. There were also a couple of blatant show-offs, well-dressed but very cocky. I asked "Doug" to dance again, and he told me his next dance was taken but after that sure ... but for the dance that was supposed to be mine he got stolen by some other girl! So I danced with Mark that song, and he was telling me he should just fling me at them (he didn't, though). The next song came on, a slow bluesy one, and I went for it and grabbed "Doug," and it was the best blues experience of my life. Remember that classy, sexy move that first caught my attention? He did that move with me! A couple times, too; I almost melted inside. At the end of the song he dipped me (a definite +), and as he did he pretended to drop me and made a little playful face, which was just the perfect end to an excellent dance. I'm sure you can tell that that dance was the highlight of my night.
In addition to dancing, we really didn't do much ... we didn't do any of the many touristy things to to in Barcelona, but we walked around a fair portion of the city trying to find the right place to drop off my camera to get it fixed and to find a place Mark needed to run an errand. We also rode the metro a fair amount (a very good metro system!), but for the most part we hung out on the beach and walked along the boardwalks. The weather was fabulous, about 18 degrees Celsius (high seventies Fahrenheit!), and there were lots of surfers out aprovechando the nice waves along the beach. We spent a fair amount of time sitting on the beach watching them wipe out and wading in the surf. Also, on our way to go investigate a particular odd copper fish-like structure, we paused and broke out some capoeira on the beach! That is one of those things I've kind of always wanted to do (at least since I started capoeira), and it was as great as I imagined. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone there to take pictures of Mark and me sparring, so there are just pictures of each of us separately. But I'm not complaining; it was awesome. The fish thing turned out to be a sort of trellis roof thing over a portion of the boardwalk. I'm not really sure what its purpose was/is. Tied with capoeira for the best thing about the beach was the sunrise ... that's right, we got up at five in the morning (after going to bed at 3) to go down to the beach and watch the sun rise. It was definitely well worth both the early hour and the cold that went with it.
Another great thing about the weekend was hanging out with Mark so much. We were friends before, but not close at all, and this was a really good opportunity to get to know him better. Hanging out with someone 24/7 for a few days will do that. Turns out we have a lot more in common than I knew, such as similar tastes in subculture, music, humor, and cuties. Mark es muy majo; me cae bien. Hopefully we'll continue to be pretty close once we get back to school. Also he told me he likes dipping me, which is awesome as that's the best way to end a song as far as I'm concerned.
There were some drawbacks to the weekend, though, most of which could be classified under the heading of "travel adventures." When I first got to the airport and asked how to get to the train station to rendezvous with my friend, the very helpful worker guy informed me that there weren't any stations in Barcelona and sent me to Girona, the St. Paul to Barcelona's Minneapolis, the Pisa to Barcelona's Florence. So I got to the train station there and called Mark to see where he was, and lo and behold, he was in a train station in Barcelona. Once I got a train to the actual station where he was we could start trying to find the hostel, which was another adventure in and of itself which involved several "Where is it?" calls to the hostel and much wandering around with very stuffed bags. Eventually we got there, and we were much amused by the clearly unhappy desk worker who had some apparent trouble with numbers and cited a price lower than we expected. We didn't complain. The discount was more than nullified, though, by the adventure with the tram cops who seemed to be unnecessarily strict and wouldn't let us run our metro card through, better late than never, but instead fined us for not having done so when we boarded the tram. Needless to say, that was one of the low points of the weekend. I also had some adventures getting back to the airport on Sunday, and it was a good thing I had so much extra time, as I ended up using most of it on various misdirections and trains that went too slowly and buses that took forever to arrive. I blame Ryanair, really, for sending me to the airport in Girona rather than the one actually in Barcelona, both on the way there and back again.
And that is the end of that story, but if you will sit quietly and not stick your finger in your neighbor's nose, I will tell you about mis viajes to the Alhambra and to Cordoba.
Besitos!
I suppose I hadn't truly realized how much I've missed dancing every week until I actually had the opportunity to go swing dancing ... on our way to the first place on Friday night, neither Mark nor I could stop ourselves from busting out random dance moves and steps as we walked faster than usual, excited to get there as soon as possible. It was in a large bar on the top floor of the mall, and one wall was mostly windows that looked out over Port Vell and the Mediterranean. We got there fairly early and danced a couple songs with each other, and by the time we decided to get a drink the floor was largely full of dancers, all of whom seemed to be very good. There was one guy that I noticed because of his sweet newsboy-style hat but continued to watch because of his attitude, skill, and obvious enjoyment of the dancing. Actually, no, I noticed him because of a particular classy and sexy move he did with a partner, a move that I always like to watch and usually wish someone would do with me. (For those who know/care, it's that one in a very close blues-ish closed position where the lead swings the follow's torso out and around. Doug and Jenny do it a lot, which with the hat led to us calling that couple "fake Doug and Jenny.") Fake Doug was obviously very good, and knew he was, but he wasn't cocky or arrogant about it-- he just did sweet moves because he wanted to, not to show off. That, in my opinion, is the best kind of dancer there is. So during the three hours we were at that bar several guys asked me to dance, all of whom were very good, and I did dance with "Doug" ... in fact, I developed quite the dance crush on him that night. He was the perfect size to dance with, strong but not too strong, gentle but firm, and he was always smiling (and what a smile!). Eventually, however, we decided to irnos to another party we knew was going on that night, and that one took some getting to. Just as we were about to give up and go back to the hostel, however, we suddenly happened across the hole-in-the-wall ballroom we were looking for. Turns out that was very fortunate for several reasons, not least of which was the fact that there were much-needed drinks included with the entry (Cokes, nothing to impair dancing ability) and an extremely good dance floor. But more, much more than that, the bartender told us that that weekend there happened to be a touring couple teaching in Barcelona and that they were in that very room and also giving a performance at a party on Saturday. Needless to say, we were excited and definitely planned to attend the party the next night. I danced with the lead of the touring couple (he was from California and of course very good, but also quite cocky in a California sort of way ... you know what I mean) and a couple other guys, and Mark danced with some Catalan girls. We were pretty beat by that time, though, so we headed out and back to the hostel. The next night the party was in a large real ballroom complete with chairs around the sides for resting and a stage for the live band and an upper level from which to spectate. The average level of dance skill seemed to have gone down a bit with regards to the previous night (a function of there being a lot more people), but the average level of class had gone quite up ... we walked in and immediately I noticed at least two guys on the floor in very classy hats, and one of them was "Doug" from the night before! Mark and I had an excellent time dancing, watching, and talking about all the great dancers there. There was one septi-genarian there who still quite had the moves and was dancing with almost all the young girls and throwing aerial steps; we wondered what he was like at 25 and figured he probably had a different girl every night. Mark decided the reason he wasn't there with a wife was that he couldn't decide which one to marry. There were also a couple of blatant show-offs, well-dressed but very cocky. I asked "Doug" to dance again, and he told me his next dance was taken but after that sure ... but for the dance that was supposed to be mine he got stolen by some other girl! So I danced with Mark that song, and he was telling me he should just fling me at them (he didn't, though). The next song came on, a slow bluesy one, and I went for it and grabbed "Doug," and it was the best blues experience of my life. Remember that classy, sexy move that first caught my attention? He did that move with me! A couple times, too; I almost melted inside. At the end of the song he dipped me (a definite +), and as he did he pretended to drop me and made a little playful face, which was just the perfect end to an excellent dance. I'm sure you can tell that that dance was the highlight of my night.
In addition to dancing, we really didn't do much ... we didn't do any of the many touristy things to to in Barcelona, but we walked around a fair portion of the city trying to find the right place to drop off my camera to get it fixed and to find a place Mark needed to run an errand. We also rode the metro a fair amount (a very good metro system!), but for the most part we hung out on the beach and walked along the boardwalks. The weather was fabulous, about 18 degrees Celsius (high seventies Fahrenheit!), and there were lots of surfers out aprovechando the nice waves along the beach. We spent a fair amount of time sitting on the beach watching them wipe out and wading in the surf. Also, on our way to go investigate a particular odd copper fish-like structure, we paused and broke out some capoeira on the beach! That is one of those things I've kind of always wanted to do (at least since I started capoeira), and it was as great as I imagined. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone there to take pictures of Mark and me sparring, so there are just pictures of each of us separately. But I'm not complaining; it was awesome. The fish thing turned out to be a sort of trellis roof thing over a portion of the boardwalk. I'm not really sure what its purpose was/is. Tied with capoeira for the best thing about the beach was the sunrise ... that's right, we got up at five in the morning (after going to bed at 3) to go down to the beach and watch the sun rise. It was definitely well worth both the early hour and the cold that went with it.
Another great thing about the weekend was hanging out with Mark so much. We were friends before, but not close at all, and this was a really good opportunity to get to know him better. Hanging out with someone 24/7 for a few days will do that. Turns out we have a lot more in common than I knew, such as similar tastes in subculture, music, humor, and cuties. Mark es muy majo; me cae bien. Hopefully we'll continue to be pretty close once we get back to school. Also he told me he likes dipping me, which is awesome as that's the best way to end a song as far as I'm concerned.
There were some drawbacks to the weekend, though, most of which could be classified under the heading of "travel adventures." When I first got to the airport and asked how to get to the train station to rendezvous with my friend, the very helpful worker guy informed me that there weren't any stations in Barcelona and sent me to Girona, the St. Paul to Barcelona's Minneapolis, the Pisa to Barcelona's Florence. So I got to the train station there and called Mark to see where he was, and lo and behold, he was in a train station in Barcelona. Once I got a train to the actual station where he was we could start trying to find the hostel, which was another adventure in and of itself which involved several "Where is it?" calls to the hostel and much wandering around with very stuffed bags. Eventually we got there, and we were much amused by the clearly unhappy desk worker who had some apparent trouble with numbers and cited a price lower than we expected. We didn't complain. The discount was more than nullified, though, by the adventure with the tram cops who seemed to be unnecessarily strict and wouldn't let us run our metro card through, better late than never, but instead fined us for not having done so when we boarded the tram. Needless to say, that was one of the low points of the weekend. I also had some adventures getting back to the airport on Sunday, and it was a good thing I had so much extra time, as I ended up using most of it on various misdirections and trains that went too slowly and buses that took forever to arrive. I blame Ryanair, really, for sending me to the airport in Girona rather than the one actually in Barcelona, both on the way there and back again.
And that is the end of that story, but if you will sit quietly and not stick your finger in your neighbor's nose, I will tell you about mis viajes to the Alhambra and to Cordoba.
Besitos!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
all right, fine, I will tell you about my family
So I'm staying with this family, yes? And I've said several times that I'll tell you about it, yes? Well finally I'm keeping my promise! (see Mom and Dad, I *do* listen to you ;) )
So my house seems to work a bit differently from some of the other places ISA kids are staying. Instead of sleeping a couple doors down the hall from the señora et al., my roommate Julianne and I actually live in a flat two floors above our host family. So when lunch or dinner time rolls around we trip lightly down the stairs and call at the door (a literal translation of the Spanish phrase) and Pepita lets us in and gives us food. We usually go down a little early, though, and talk to Pepita and help set the table while she cooks.
Pepita is the first person I'll tell you about, and the best way I can think of to do that is to describe her as the quintessential Spanish mother, always bustling to and fro and getting things and asking if we want more bread, more soup, some cheese, maybe some jam for the bread, etc. etc. etc. She is about five feet tall, pleasantly round, and usually clad in comfortable clothes, house shoes, and apron, but with impeccably done makeup. The first day Julianne and I were here she immediately called us her girls and took us under her wing at once. We can talk to her about anything - absolutely anything! Nothing fazes her, and she likes to know what we've been learning, including the dirty words and all that. When Julianne learned how to say "to have an orgasm" she said it all sheepishly, feeling weird to be saying such a thing to a mom figure, but Pepita's response was "why would you be shy about that? it's natural," and once Pepita and I were discussing different kinds of cheese and she mentioned one called tetilla (which is a diminutive of the Spanish word for tit), explaining that it's called that because it looks like someone just took a boob off a woman's body and put it on the table, complete with gestures repeated several times over. Which reminds me - Pepita never says anything just once. Most Spaniards tend to repeat requests and compliments several times, it being rude to accept either one on the first go-round, but Pepita seems to take it to an extreme. She will say something like "If you want more bread, there's more" and then go into variations on the theme for a couple minutes: "if you want more bread, there's more. there's always more bread. more bread is just over there. there's more bread if you want any more" and so on and so forth. She will also talk to Dori, the little dog, in a half-sing-song voice for quite a while at a time, saying the same things over and over and petting and patting her.
Which brings me to Dori! I'm not sure what breed Dori is, but whatever it is she's really cute. She stands about a foot high at the shoulder, is all black, and has floppy ears that sometimes flip inside out. Whenever I go downstairs she's always excited to see me, and she'll stand up on her back legs, pawing at my leg and hand until I scratch her behind the ears, and if I stop she'll run her head into my hand until I start again. She rarely barks, except when she's in a bad mood, and she loves to play with her little toys, growling and trying to wrest them from my grasp. As soon as we sit down to eat she's right there, putting her front paws on your leg and making hungry/sad faces until you give her some food, and if you try to ignore her she'll let out a little whimper that lets you know she's really suffering and would be much better if you'd let her have just one little bite of your ham or cheese or egg. The family is sometimes pretty rough with her, smacking her harder than is probably comfortable and dragging her around by the legs or tail, but she rarely complains (although Julie and I sort of cringe). Really the only time she gets cranky is when her more or less cousin Kira comes over (the pet of Pepita's daughter). Kira is a very energetic dog, always running to and fro and trying to steal whatever Dori happens to have at the moment (ball, toy, food, etc.). She's less well-behaved than Dori, and she is a little less than house-trained, unfortunately. ... They're both very cute, but I like Dori better.
Also in the family is Pepita's husband, Abelardo. At first I could not for the life of me understand what he ever said - he has about the thickest Andalucia accent I've ever heard - but now that I'm more used to both the accent and him, I can usually understand him, and he's pretty funny in a dry sort of way. He and I have good-natured little arguments about when is the proper time to sleep, night versus day, and how much you should really work. Despite his claims that you should work during the day and sleep at night, though, he always encourages me and Julianne to go out partying, especially to this particular place where it's legal to drink alcohol outdoors and everybody brings their own bottle of whatever and hangs out in this park thing. We haven't been, but he keeps bringing it up and asking when we're going to go. He always peels his apples before eating them, and his favorite food is a chunk of bread with a chunk of dark ham - especially the white part, the fat. I don't understand why he likes the fat better, but to each his own, right? He can eat that and I'll eat Pepita's delicious tortilla española.
Abuelo doesn't usually eat the same thing I do either. Pepita's elderly father usually just has a piece of toast and some juice, and he has his own little place at a table in the kitchen, complete with tablecloth and everything. Every day when he finishes his meal he shakes out the cloth and calls to Dori to come eat the little crumbs that fall, and then he shuffles off to go watch tv. Whenever he comes into the kitchen to eat, the first thing he says is always "Muy buena ... Hay apetito?," asking me and Julie if we're hungry. He is even harder to understand than Abelardo, because in addition to his Andalucia accent he has the old-man-mumble added to the mix. Most of the time he sits in his armchair in the salon, watching the news and occasionally putting in a comment when something interesting happens.
So that's everyone who actually lives in the apartment. Pepita's two daughters, though, are often to be seen there. María del Mar, the younger, eats lunch with us almost every day, and she always has very stylish outfits, well-done hair, and too much makeup. She also is very loud, like the typical Spaniard, and rather funny. The slightly older daughter, Nani, comes over a lot but rarely eats, at least not that I see. She's quieter than her sister, and she is usually cuddling with one dog or another (Kira is her baby). Her husband Eduardo is occasionally to be found there, wearing navy pants and brown shoes and chatting with Abelardo, with whom he seems to be great friends. Pepita's sister Ascención lives in the same building, and she is sometimes there too, with or without her husband. ... Today at lunch there were I think eight people all trying to fit into the tiny kitchen: Pepita, Abuelo, me and Julie, María del Mar (no nickname), Ascensión, her daughter Lorena, and Lorena's boyfriend, whose name escapes me. He is quite a character, and although I don't always know what he says, he can always make the family laugh heartily. Nani was in the other room, and Kira and Dori were running around everywhere. I can only imagine what fun there is around Christmas, when all of the family gathers for parties and so on!
So that's that! The whole family is great, and Pepita is very much like a second mother to me and Julianne. I'm definitely going to miss her (and Dori) when I go!
So my house seems to work a bit differently from some of the other places ISA kids are staying. Instead of sleeping a couple doors down the hall from the señora et al., my roommate Julianne and I actually live in a flat two floors above our host family. So when lunch or dinner time rolls around we trip lightly down the stairs and call at the door (a literal translation of the Spanish phrase) and Pepita lets us in and gives us food. We usually go down a little early, though, and talk to Pepita and help set the table while she cooks.
Pepita is the first person I'll tell you about, and the best way I can think of to do that is to describe her as the quintessential Spanish mother, always bustling to and fro and getting things and asking if we want more bread, more soup, some cheese, maybe some jam for the bread, etc. etc. etc. She is about five feet tall, pleasantly round, and usually clad in comfortable clothes, house shoes, and apron, but with impeccably done makeup. The first day Julianne and I were here she immediately called us her girls and took us under her wing at once. We can talk to her about anything - absolutely anything! Nothing fazes her, and she likes to know what we've been learning, including the dirty words and all that. When Julianne learned how to say "to have an orgasm" she said it all sheepishly, feeling weird to be saying such a thing to a mom figure, but Pepita's response was "why would you be shy about that? it's natural," and once Pepita and I were discussing different kinds of cheese and she mentioned one called tetilla (which is a diminutive of the Spanish word for tit), explaining that it's called that because it looks like someone just took a boob off a woman's body and put it on the table, complete with gestures repeated several times over. Which reminds me - Pepita never says anything just once. Most Spaniards tend to repeat requests and compliments several times, it being rude to accept either one on the first go-round, but Pepita seems to take it to an extreme. She will say something like "If you want more bread, there's more" and then go into variations on the theme for a couple minutes: "if you want more bread, there's more. there's always more bread. more bread is just over there. there's more bread if you want any more" and so on and so forth. She will also talk to Dori, the little dog, in a half-sing-song voice for quite a while at a time, saying the same things over and over and petting and patting her.
Which brings me to Dori! I'm not sure what breed Dori is, but whatever it is she's really cute. She stands about a foot high at the shoulder, is all black, and has floppy ears that sometimes flip inside out. Whenever I go downstairs she's always excited to see me, and she'll stand up on her back legs, pawing at my leg and hand until I scratch her behind the ears, and if I stop she'll run her head into my hand until I start again. She rarely barks, except when she's in a bad mood, and she loves to play with her little toys, growling and trying to wrest them from my grasp. As soon as we sit down to eat she's right there, putting her front paws on your leg and making hungry/sad faces until you give her some food, and if you try to ignore her she'll let out a little whimper that lets you know she's really suffering and would be much better if you'd let her have just one little bite of your ham or cheese or egg. The family is sometimes pretty rough with her, smacking her harder than is probably comfortable and dragging her around by the legs or tail, but she rarely complains (although Julie and I sort of cringe). Really the only time she gets cranky is when her more or less cousin Kira comes over (the pet of Pepita's daughter). Kira is a very energetic dog, always running to and fro and trying to steal whatever Dori happens to have at the moment (ball, toy, food, etc.). She's less well-behaved than Dori, and she is a little less than house-trained, unfortunately. ... They're both very cute, but I like Dori better.
Also in the family is Pepita's husband, Abelardo. At first I could not for the life of me understand what he ever said - he has about the thickest Andalucia accent I've ever heard - but now that I'm more used to both the accent and him, I can usually understand him, and he's pretty funny in a dry sort of way. He and I have good-natured little arguments about when is the proper time to sleep, night versus day, and how much you should really work. Despite his claims that you should work during the day and sleep at night, though, he always encourages me and Julianne to go out partying, especially to this particular place where it's legal to drink alcohol outdoors and everybody brings their own bottle of whatever and hangs out in this park thing. We haven't been, but he keeps bringing it up and asking when we're going to go. He always peels his apples before eating them, and his favorite food is a chunk of bread with a chunk of dark ham - especially the white part, the fat. I don't understand why he likes the fat better, but to each his own, right? He can eat that and I'll eat Pepita's delicious tortilla española.
Abuelo doesn't usually eat the same thing I do either. Pepita's elderly father usually just has a piece of toast and some juice, and he has his own little place at a table in the kitchen, complete with tablecloth and everything. Every day when he finishes his meal he shakes out the cloth and calls to Dori to come eat the little crumbs that fall, and then he shuffles off to go watch tv. Whenever he comes into the kitchen to eat, the first thing he says is always "Muy buena ... Hay apetito?," asking me and Julie if we're hungry. He is even harder to understand than Abelardo, because in addition to his Andalucia accent he has the old-man-mumble added to the mix. Most of the time he sits in his armchair in the salon, watching the news and occasionally putting in a comment when something interesting happens.
So that's everyone who actually lives in the apartment. Pepita's two daughters, though, are often to be seen there. María del Mar, the younger, eats lunch with us almost every day, and she always has very stylish outfits, well-done hair, and too much makeup. She also is very loud, like the typical Spaniard, and rather funny. The slightly older daughter, Nani, comes over a lot but rarely eats, at least not that I see. She's quieter than her sister, and she is usually cuddling with one dog or another (Kira is her baby). Her husband Eduardo is occasionally to be found there, wearing navy pants and brown shoes and chatting with Abelardo, with whom he seems to be great friends. Pepita's sister Ascención lives in the same building, and she is sometimes there too, with or without her husband. ... Today at lunch there were I think eight people all trying to fit into the tiny kitchen: Pepita, Abuelo, me and Julie, María del Mar (no nickname), Ascensión, her daughter Lorena, and Lorena's boyfriend, whose name escapes me. He is quite a character, and although I don't always know what he says, he can always make the family laugh heartily. Nani was in the other room, and Kira and Dori were running around everywhere. I can only imagine what fun there is around Christmas, when all of the family gathers for parties and so on!
So that's that! The whole family is great, and Pepita is very much like a second mother to me and Julianne. I'm definitely going to miss her (and Dori) when I go!
Friday, October 24, 2008
halfway already?
So the other day I was counting and I realized that my time in Spain is halfway gone already, and it seems like I just got here. On the other hand, though, it feels like I've been here forever, learning the city and the culture and all that good stuff.
So far I have:
-gone out a fair amount, to a bunch of different bars and stuff
-observed that most of the music played in bars is American and that most of the people in them seem to be American too... or at least a lot of them
-made friends with a bunch of new people, and not just Americans!
-bought more stuff for myself than I really should have
-also bought a bunch of presents for other people, so I don't feel toooo bad about the above
-improved quite a bit in my Spanish
-formed what may well be a lifelong attachment to the Spanish lifestyle and the country
-become sort of addicted to a Spanish soap opera that I watch with my señora most nights
I can't believe I have to leave so relatively soon! But of course it will be nice to see all you kids back in the States again ... I just wish I knew when, if ever, I get to come back here.
¡Besitos!
So far I have:
-gone out a fair amount, to a bunch of different bars and stuff
-observed that most of the music played in bars is American and that most of the people in them seem to be American too... or at least a lot of them
-made friends with a bunch of new people, and not just Americans!
-bought more stuff for myself than I really should have
-also bought a bunch of presents for other people, so I don't feel toooo bad about the above
-improved quite a bit in my Spanish
-formed what may well be a lifelong attachment to the Spanish lifestyle and the country
-become sort of addicted to a Spanish soap opera that I watch with my señora most nights
I can't believe I have to leave so relatively soon! But of course it will be nice to see all you kids back in the States again ... I just wish I knew when, if ever, I get to come back here.
¡Besitos!
Monday, October 13, 2008
an excellent (long) weekend
So this weekend has been fantastic, and it's not even over yet!
Friday: no class! woke up for breakfast and then definitely went back to bed. awesome. Then, much later, my flatmate and I went out on the town! Apparently 11 is too early to really enjoy things, though, as there was not much going on yet. So we wandered around to a couple places and got some ice cream, and then finally there was stuff going on. We went to Taller Latino (a salsa bar that is probably my favorite) and stayed there for a couple hours, dancing with some guys and each other, and the bartender (for no reason!) gave us free rum and cokes. This was the same bartender who danced with me a different time, and who is a ridiculously good salsa dancer. Apparently he remembers and likes me, though I don't know quite why. That's not to say I mind the attention and free drinks, though ;). Then on the way home some random guys came up to us on the street and were very insistent that we accompany them to a discoteca, but we decided that that was not exactly a good idea and went our separate ways. A good night.
Saturday: also great! one of my intercambios called me, so Jackie (the same flatmate) and I went out with him and some friends. One place we went to had a shot called "San Luis," so I decided to see what that was (whisky, blueberry, and hazelnut--strange but not bad). One of said friends apparently sings and studies musicology, and he and I ended up talking about Handel's Messiah and the Carmina Burana at this biker bar where they were playing Metallica. We were singing our favorite movements to each other, and he went so far as to demonstrate the extremely high soprano solo "Dulcissime" movement of Carmina Burana. Quite loudly. One of the bikers at the bar (not of our party) apparently was celebrating a birthday, and they passed around a tray of mini desserts, which were frankly delicious. Jackie had a sort of eclair cream thing, and I had a little chocolate layer cake tiramisu something. Much of that night could be summed up by the phrase "crazy Portuguese people." Eventually Jackie and I had had enough of Portuguese drunkenness and sketchy parts of town, though, so we left and went to Taller Latino again, just for a minute to end the night on a good note. Also a good night!
Sunday: Columbus Day, which in Spain is huge, the Dia de la Hispanidad. So there was kind of a giant street fair in a plaza near my house (and in the surrounding area), so we walked around that for a while, and it was pretty awesome! There were countless booths selling food, from homemade bread to date loaf to roasted nuts to empanada things to a multitude of candy to chocolate bars to dried fruit to alcohol of various kinds, including liquor of dates, figs, and/or walnuts. I felt the need to obtain some chocolate covered orange and strawberry slices, which were quite delicious. Most of the booth workers wore Renaissance style clothes, appropriate for Columbus' time, which I enjoyed. I also enjoyed the ridiculous amount of jewelry for sale, huge Spanish earrings and long necklaces and delicate silver rings and bracelets and jangly anklets and about any style of jewelry you could imagine, from "simple yet elegant" to punky to flashy going-out to hardcore with spikes to funky hippie. There was one stall selling jewelry and knick-knacks carved from palm seeds, which were really cool. Also there was a guy with a little table of jewelry he had made himself out of wire and semiprecious stones who gave me a little earring that supposedly would reveal my true love to me at midnight (nothing special happened at midnight, but it's a pretty earring and I'm still wearing it). I decided it was high time I had some properly giant Spanish earrings, so I bought some bright blue dangly things that fall past my shoulders but weigh nothing. They're pretty awesome, and I can't wait to show everybody back home! They also make some pretty fun clicky sounds when I move my head. There were also booths selling juggling paraphernalia, children's toys, witch dolls, fedoras, fans, black velvet coloring pages, and almost anything you can imagine.
In addition to all this merchandise, there were some performers wandering around the fair! There were a couple stiltwalkers, a faun on a leash (the girl was trying to sell him), a hunchback, and a knife-juggling jester, among others. There was also a traveling belly dancing show, two girls and a band. They were quite good, and I wondered why I don't belly dance. It's just something I should do, really. So cool-looking, and you get to wear such fun jangly scarves and so on! There was also a puppet show for the kids, and a trapeze show that I passed in an off moment, so I didn't actually get to see that show.
As we were walking back we heard a band on the street in front of us, so we ran to catch the parade. It was not like most American parades: most of it consisted of different groups of people, secret societies or something, walking with these really ornate staffs with silver or gold headpieces. Each group had a different headpiece, depicting symbols of their order, I guess. Most of them involved a cross and a pomegranate ("granada" means pomegranate), and many of them had other religious symbols, not all of which I could identify. The culmination of the parade was a giant statue of the Virgin Mary in her guise as, I think, la Virgen del Pilar, as it was her feast day too. The statue must have risen about seven feet off the pedestal, which was carried on the shoulders of twenty-eight men, if my counting was right. She was clothed in metal robes, with a metal cape and mantilla, and she held in her hand a baby Jesus who looked more like a miniature adult than an actual baby. She was surrounded by huge bunches of flowers, and there were lights shining up from the pedestal and illuminating the sculpture, which contrasted nicely with the setting sun behind her ... I'm sure they planned it that way, of course. Well, she looked lovely.
Monday: Since the holiday fell yesterday, the day off was pushed to Monday, just like in the States, so I didn't have class today either. Most of the day has been spent relaxing, although I did have some homework to do (*wrinkles nose*). Now I've got some important slacking to do, and I've rambled on for long enough, so that's all for today.
Besitos!
Friday: no class! woke up for breakfast and then definitely went back to bed. awesome. Then, much later, my flatmate and I went out on the town! Apparently 11 is too early to really enjoy things, though, as there was not much going on yet. So we wandered around to a couple places and got some ice cream, and then finally there was stuff going on. We went to Taller Latino (a salsa bar that is probably my favorite) and stayed there for a couple hours, dancing with some guys and each other, and the bartender (for no reason!) gave us free rum and cokes. This was the same bartender who danced with me a different time, and who is a ridiculously good salsa dancer. Apparently he remembers and likes me, though I don't know quite why. That's not to say I mind the attention and free drinks, though ;). Then on the way home some random guys came up to us on the street and were very insistent that we accompany them to a discoteca, but we decided that that was not exactly a good idea and went our separate ways. A good night.
Saturday: also great! one of my intercambios called me, so Jackie (the same flatmate) and I went out with him and some friends. One place we went to had a shot called "San Luis," so I decided to see what that was (whisky, blueberry, and hazelnut--strange but not bad). One of said friends apparently sings and studies musicology, and he and I ended up talking about Handel's Messiah and the Carmina Burana at this biker bar where they were playing Metallica. We were singing our favorite movements to each other, and he went so far as to demonstrate the extremely high soprano solo "Dulcissime" movement of Carmina Burana. Quite loudly. One of the bikers at the bar (not of our party) apparently was celebrating a birthday, and they passed around a tray of mini desserts, which were frankly delicious. Jackie had a sort of eclair cream thing, and I had a little chocolate layer cake tiramisu something. Much of that night could be summed up by the phrase "crazy Portuguese people." Eventually Jackie and I had had enough of Portuguese drunkenness and sketchy parts of town, though, so we left and went to Taller Latino again, just for a minute to end the night on a good note. Also a good night!
Sunday: Columbus Day, which in Spain is huge, the Dia de la Hispanidad. So there was kind of a giant street fair in a plaza near my house (and in the surrounding area), so we walked around that for a while, and it was pretty awesome! There were countless booths selling food, from homemade bread to date loaf to roasted nuts to empanada things to a multitude of candy to chocolate bars to dried fruit to alcohol of various kinds, including liquor of dates, figs, and/or walnuts. I felt the need to obtain some chocolate covered orange and strawberry slices, which were quite delicious. Most of the booth workers wore Renaissance style clothes, appropriate for Columbus' time, which I enjoyed. I also enjoyed the ridiculous amount of jewelry for sale, huge Spanish earrings and long necklaces and delicate silver rings and bracelets and jangly anklets and about any style of jewelry you could imagine, from "simple yet elegant" to punky to flashy going-out to hardcore with spikes to funky hippie. There was one stall selling jewelry and knick-knacks carved from palm seeds, which were really cool. Also there was a guy with a little table of jewelry he had made himself out of wire and semiprecious stones who gave me a little earring that supposedly would reveal my true love to me at midnight (nothing special happened at midnight, but it's a pretty earring and I'm still wearing it). I decided it was high time I had some properly giant Spanish earrings, so I bought some bright blue dangly things that fall past my shoulders but weigh nothing. They're pretty awesome, and I can't wait to show everybody back home! They also make some pretty fun clicky sounds when I move my head. There were also booths selling juggling paraphernalia, children's toys, witch dolls, fedoras, fans, black velvet coloring pages, and almost anything you can imagine.
In addition to all this merchandise, there were some performers wandering around the fair! There were a couple stiltwalkers, a faun on a leash (the girl was trying to sell him), a hunchback, and a knife-juggling jester, among others. There was also a traveling belly dancing show, two girls and a band. They were quite good, and I wondered why I don't belly dance. It's just something I should do, really. So cool-looking, and you get to wear such fun jangly scarves and so on! There was also a puppet show for the kids, and a trapeze show that I passed in an off moment, so I didn't actually get to see that show.
As we were walking back we heard a band on the street in front of us, so we ran to catch the parade. It was not like most American parades: most of it consisted of different groups of people, secret societies or something, walking with these really ornate staffs with silver or gold headpieces. Each group had a different headpiece, depicting symbols of their order, I guess. Most of them involved a cross and a pomegranate ("granada" means pomegranate), and many of them had other religious symbols, not all of which I could identify. The culmination of the parade was a giant statue of the Virgin Mary in her guise as, I think, la Virgen del Pilar, as it was her feast day too. The statue must have risen about seven feet off the pedestal, which was carried on the shoulders of twenty-eight men, if my counting was right. She was clothed in metal robes, with a metal cape and mantilla, and she held in her hand a baby Jesus who looked more like a miniature adult than an actual baby. She was surrounded by huge bunches of flowers, and there were lights shining up from the pedestal and illuminating the sculpture, which contrasted nicely with the setting sun behind her ... I'm sure they planned it that way, of course. Well, she looked lovely.
Monday: Since the holiday fell yesterday, the day off was pushed to Monday, just like in the States, so I didn't have class today either. Most of the day has been spent relaxing, although I did have some homework to do (*wrinkles nose*). Now I've got some important slacking to do, and I've rambled on for long enough, so that's all for today.
Besitos!
Friday, October 10, 2008
classes, continued! y más
So this ISA computer kicked me off before I could properly finish telling you all about my classes. Grr, but haha, I have logged back on!
Anyway.
So this theater class! Yes, awesome. Last week was the first meeting, and there were about ten-ish people there, including me. We basically played games for two hours until we got kicked out (we were supposed to have the room for three hours, but there was some sort of scheduling conflict), and not many of them had to do explicitly with theater. But it was so much fun! Then this week there was a whole different assortment of people, with only about six in common (again, including me). This time we played awesome games for three hours, and I met a bunch of cool Spaniards (and other fellow foreigners-- I take comfort in the fact that I think my Spanish comprehension was not the worst in the room) and generally had a blast! Oh, how I've missed theater and its associated classes. One of the leaders (I suppose you could call them teachers, but the word doesn't seem to apply much to them) is quite stereotypically flamboyant (not necessarily in a gay way) and very ... theater-y, for lack of a better (or real) word. Also he's quite funny. I have to admit I'm pretty proud of myself when I understand the jokes in Spanish. I can't wait to get started on the play we're going to put on in December and test my acting-in-spanish abilities-- it'll be a whole new challenge, and I'm really excited to see how up to it I am.
Also, I have a class called Varieties of Spanish! Pretty much anyone who knows me will understand why I'm so excited about it. It's so linguistics-y! and it's about Spanish! AND! one of the topics we'll be covering is more or less my specialty (what my Independent Study will be): register, or different styles of speaking/writing based on context and formality and audience and all that! How sweet, yes? Yes indeed. We'll also be covering taboos, which is another of my linguisticsy interests. Needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), this class is also in the running for my favorite. I haven't met the profesor yet, though, because he was at a conference or something yesterday, so we had a sub. The sub happened to be my teacher for the grammar class, and he's pretty cool. In grammar the other day he told us all about the workings of a particular common Spanish curse word ("joder" if you want to know), and yesterday while subbing for variedades he taught us other words you should not say to a boss or respected adult (demonstrating register differences). He even wrote it on the board, with a furtive look out the door first to make sure no one was watching him teach us dirty words. Awesome. Also he made sure that we knew he was a substituto, not a prostituta. Just to clear up any doubts we may or may not have had.
So that's how my last few days have been. My roommate left last night at 4am for Marruecos (Morrocco), just two or three days after returning from a week in Ireland, so I kind of have my own room for a while, which is pretty nice.
Upcoming events/attractions include but are not limited to the following: probable voyage to Barcelona for hanging out and swing dancing purposes (with Mark Katz from Lawrence), possible voyage to Florence to hang out with a different set of friends and see the city, the latter set of friends visiting me here in Granada, and perhaps finally I'll tell you about my host family. Maybe.
¡Besitos!
Anyway.
So this theater class! Yes, awesome. Last week was the first meeting, and there were about ten-ish people there, including me. We basically played games for two hours until we got kicked out (we were supposed to have the room for three hours, but there was some sort of scheduling conflict), and not many of them had to do explicitly with theater. But it was so much fun! Then this week there was a whole different assortment of people, with only about six in common (again, including me). This time we played awesome games for three hours, and I met a bunch of cool Spaniards (and other fellow foreigners-- I take comfort in the fact that I think my Spanish comprehension was not the worst in the room) and generally had a blast! Oh, how I've missed theater and its associated classes. One of the leaders (I suppose you could call them teachers, but the word doesn't seem to apply much to them) is quite stereotypically flamboyant (not necessarily in a gay way) and very ... theater-y, for lack of a better (or real) word. Also he's quite funny. I have to admit I'm pretty proud of myself when I understand the jokes in Spanish. I can't wait to get started on the play we're going to put on in December and test my acting-in-spanish abilities-- it'll be a whole new challenge, and I'm really excited to see how up to it I am.
Also, I have a class called Varieties of Spanish! Pretty much anyone who knows me will understand why I'm so excited about it. It's so linguistics-y! and it's about Spanish! AND! one of the topics we'll be covering is more or less my specialty (what my Independent Study will be): register, or different styles of speaking/writing based on context and formality and audience and all that! How sweet, yes? Yes indeed. We'll also be covering taboos, which is another of my linguisticsy interests. Needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), this class is also in the running for my favorite. I haven't met the profesor yet, though, because he was at a conference or something yesterday, so we had a sub. The sub happened to be my teacher for the grammar class, and he's pretty cool. In grammar the other day he told us all about the workings of a particular common Spanish curse word ("joder" if you want to know), and yesterday while subbing for variedades he taught us other words you should not say to a boss or respected adult (demonstrating register differences). He even wrote it on the board, with a furtive look out the door first to make sure no one was watching him teach us dirty words. Awesome. Also he made sure that we knew he was a substituto, not a prostituta. Just to clear up any doubts we may or may not have had.
So that's how my last few days have been. My roommate left last night at 4am for Marruecos (Morrocco), just two or three days after returning from a week in Ireland, so I kind of have my own room for a while, which is pretty nice.
Upcoming events/attractions include but are not limited to the following: probable voyage to Barcelona for hanging out and swing dancing purposes (with Mark Katz from Lawrence), possible voyage to Florence to hang out with a different set of friends and see the city, the latter set of friends visiting me here in Granada, and perhaps finally I'll tell you about my host family. Maybe.
¡Besitos!
bits about class
So I haven't written in quite some time ... well, I warned you this might be sporadic!
My first week of classes has been accomplished, and most of my classes seem pretty chill. The Literature class (Enlightenment, Romanticism, and Realism) is on its way to being my favorite, largely because of the profesora. After class a friend asked me what I thought of her and my response was "awesome in a crazy way ... or crazy in an awesome way," and that pretty much sums her up. She never stopped talking the whole time, and she repeated several times that she thinks reading is a bad thing, because reading leads to thinking and thinking leads to pain. So I guess she kind of falls into Rousseau's camp, what with man being the 'noble savage' and all that. Anyway, she's what you might call a little spitfire, and I'm looking forward to the class a lot. Also I'm pretty excited about the workload or lack thereof: we just have to write summaries of each subject (short ones, and spelling and grammar don't count) and then one paper due the day of the exam-- but it shoud be no more than three pages, two being better. Nothing compared to my lit classes back home!
My other classes don't look too bad, either, and the only really bad points have to do with timing: my Monday/Wednesday schedule consists of a grammar class from 8:30 to 10:30 in the morning and the lit class from 6 to 8 in the evening. Nothing in between. My Tuesday/Thursday schedule is busier but better: varieties of Spanish (!!) from 10:30 to 12:30, Islamic culture from 12:30 to 2:30, and POE (oral and written skills) from 4 to 6 pm. On Thursdays, though, I have a theater class across town that starts at 6, so I'm gonna show up late for that pretty much every week. Oh well, it's Spain, punctuality is not a huge issue.
My first week of classes has been accomplished, and most of my classes seem pretty chill. The Literature class (Enlightenment, Romanticism, and Realism) is on its way to being my favorite, largely because of the profesora. After class a friend asked me what I thought of her and my response was "awesome in a crazy way ... or crazy in an awesome way," and that pretty much sums her up. She never stopped talking the whole time, and she repeated several times that she thinks reading is a bad thing, because reading leads to thinking and thinking leads to pain. So I guess she kind of falls into Rousseau's camp, what with man being the 'noble savage' and all that. Anyway, she's what you might call a little spitfire, and I'm looking forward to the class a lot. Also I'm pretty excited about the workload or lack thereof: we just have to write summaries of each subject (short ones, and spelling and grammar don't count) and then one paper due the day of the exam-- but it shoud be no more than three pages, two being better. Nothing compared to my lit classes back home!
My other classes don't look too bad, either, and the only really bad points have to do with timing: my Monday/Wednesday schedule consists of a grammar class from 8:30 to 10:30 in the morning and the lit class from 6 to 8 in the evening. Nothing in between. My Tuesday/Thursday schedule is busier but better: varieties of Spanish (!!) from 10:30 to 12:30, Islamic culture from 12:30 to 2:30, and POE (oral and written skills) from 4 to 6 pm. On Thursdays, though, I have a theater class across town that starts at 6, so I'm gonna show up late for that pretty much every week. Oh well, it's Spain, punctuality is not a huge issue.
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