In the Land of Rabbits

Let me walk you through a typical Spanish weekday for me.

0730: Awake to the sound of my lovely iPhone whose full capabilities I sorely miss utilizing.  Lie there until I convince myself I wasn't slipped a roofie last night, that yes this is a strange bed but it is my current one, that I am indeed currently residing in Spain and will do this another 51 times until I return home to my American bed.

0735: Shower (Okay, this isn't completely true.  Maybe every other day)

0820: Walk about 4 steps to the living/dining room where Chús (María Jesús) has set out my daily desayuno.  This consists of two pieces of toast with strawberry marmalade, decaf instant coffee (really), and some sort of fruit juice.  I'll touch on the coffee subject later.  I'm a little sensitive.

0835: This is when I begin my commute to class.  Uphill on Camino de las Aguas until I reach Paseo de San Antonio.  Continue past Parque de los Jesuítas.  Cross Paseo de Canalejas, downhill and turn right on Gran Vía.  Cross the street and pass Hotel Condal (where dad and I stayed when we first arrived in Salamanca).  Continue on that street until left hand turn at Rector Tovar where I find my destination, the San Boal building.

0900: Grammar class.  My teacher for this class, Señora Begoña, is very animated, loud, and upbeat.  She's a lot to handle at 9 am but I admire her consistent attitude.  I share this class with one of my first friends I made here in Spain, Josefine.  She's from Sweden and yes she is just as beautiful as everyone says Swedish people are.  Also in this class is a girl from Brazil, 4 other Americans, 2 precious Japanese, and maybe 5 Chinese.  Luckily we get a 15 minute "pausa" during this class, during which I usually go downstairs for something from the vending machines.

1110: History of Spain.  This teacher is a cute Spanish guy in his mid thirties who only wears Abercrombie and Fitch shirts.  Except for that one day he wore a Goonies shirt.  He has a funny way of lecturing where he kind of bobs back and forth from foot to foot while he's talking.  Taking good notes in that class proves to be difficult because you've got to pay attention well enough to him speaking Spanish while you're taking notes in Spanish.  Harder than it seems, I promise.

1210: Oral skills.  Or lack thereof.  I'm the only person in there who doesn't speak either Chinese or Japanese.  Well, except for the teacher.  Lately, whenever someone speaks anything besides Spanish, she shouts "¡Euro!"  This means the offender must give up one euro and all euros collected during the trimester will be used at the end for french fries and ice cream.

1310: Classes are done!  At this point I usually meet up with Josefine and her other Swedish friend Anna.  We either go run an errand or just plan what we'll do later that afternoon.  Then I make the commute back home.

1430ish: "¡A comer!"  Time for another heavy, fatty meal.  It's like Spanish people blindfold themselves and just grab stuff out of the refrigerator to make a meal.  Picture this: mound of white rice covered in tomato sauce.  Not that strange, relatively speaking.  But wait!  There's a surprise underneath.   A fried egg!  And upon further investigation you discover there's cut up pieces of ham(?) mixed in with the rice.  After that, Chús usually serves another course of meat, usually still on the bone, usually in a pool of oil, usually lined with lots of goopy fat that takes me longer to remove than to eat the meat leftover.  I know the meal has come to a close when she turns to me and asks "Yogur o fruta?"  Spanish people love their yogurt.  It's so weird.  I went to Carrefour, the local grocery store, and they literally have like 3 aisles devoted just to yogurt.

1500: Suffer through another cup of decaf instant coffee with Chús.  We stand in the kitchen and attempt to converse in her mother tongue.  She is very patient and attentive while I stumble through Spanish sentences.  After that it's nap/homework/play with Virginia or Raúl time.  I like the kids, but Virginia, who is 7, can wear down the nerves.  Whenever she gets the opportunity she grabs my iPhone and for some reason thinks she needs to remove the protective cover, then proceeds to watch either Hannah Montana or "Patito Feo" music videos on my YouTube app.  She also likes to open my laptop and turn on Vampire Weekend.

1730ish: Usually at this time I go meet Josefine, Anna and some of our international gang down at Plaza Mayor.  We'll sit down and have helado or un café, or maybe window shop.  After that we oftentimes go get tapas, which are basically little snacks that tide you over until dinnertime.

2100: Walk home, again.  I do a lot of walking.

2200: A cenar.  Carlos, the man of the house, is home for this meal.  He's okay I guess.  I feel like he still has some of that machismo, patriarchal mindset that Spanish men are accused of having.  This meal goes much the same as lunch, but Carlos prefers us not to talk during this one.  Whatever.

2230: I have to be up at 0730 so I usually don't stay out late.  This is when I retreat to my room and hope one of my friends is on Skype.  Mark another day off the calender-24 down, 51 to go.