I've reached that time where I need to write about the night life of Sevilla. Do I leave it out and keep this entry safe for children's eyes or do I write it like the real Sara Mintzer would share a story? I say, I share it. With that being said....
DISCLAIMER: this post includes topics such as making out, Spanish men, and a reference to hickeys. If you are a grandparent or someone who wants to remain thinking im an innocent child, don’t read on. Thanks.
Yesteday was our last class of our Intensive Session, and I thought I would share some fun words and phrases I learned in class the past 2 weeks.
enstinido--constipated
mentira cochina--bullshit
estar de mala leche--to be in a bad mood (you're bad milk)
la matricula--tuition / license plate ????
echar un rapidillo--to have a quickey
solter y entera--single and ready to mingle
pasta--money
bucks--turkey
mi puta idea-- i have no fucking idea
morrearse-- to make out
camello--drug dealer
mentiroso!--liar!
tocar el pito-- to honk your horn / men's genitals ???
We had the best teacher, the best class, and some pretty funny moments. Easiest 3 credits of my life.
You know how I was saying that -ito means little. Well I was thinking about the word un poquito.... it really is un poco, which means little but when we say un poqutio are we saying little-little? Like minuscule? So confused.
I bought sneakers yesterday. Buying anything here is an interesting experience. You know how in America every young woman who works in a clothing store is such a little bitch? Well same here, but the Spanish version. That means it's 20 times worse. Young woman + bitch + hates American girls = not a fun experience. The shoe I wanted happened to have been a 37 ( my European size) and the girl told me she didn't have any others. When she realized the sample shoe was my actual size she didn't look too happy because she then had to search for the other one. Ay dios mio! Making someone do work at work? How horrible of me. So I sat down waiting for my shoe to come. It never did and the girl walked past us 4 times. I really thought she just gave up on my search and didn't tell me. Well no, she was waiting for me. She didn't realize that I knew that I was going to buy them. Huh?? I guess here in Spain you only try on one shoe and call it a day. Weird. So finally she hands me the other shoe. It was a very odd situation. If I was in a cartoon, there would have been a large question mark over my head and Marissa's. No one wants to help you here! Oh and no one smiles or says hello so when someone does smile or say hello it's like a rare treat. With my shoes, of course there are no half sizes so it was between my toe touching the front a little or stuffing 4 socks in my shoe. I went with the suffering toe, as if my poor toes haven't suffered enough. For 15 Euro, I'll take it. I'm absolutely getting another in grown toenail and will be having to see a podiatrist here. Can't wait for that day to come. But anyway, I came home and Pepi insisted on me showing her my new sneakers. Oh does this woman crack me up. She thinks everything is "bonita"... literally everything. My crappy rinky dink phone from 1999 that I have here was charging in the living room. She went crazy over how bonita it was. It was bright blue, that's all. Her reaction is so precious. So with my shoes, mid sentence I took them out of the box. She stopped whatever crapola she was saying to Marissa, snapped her head around, changed her tone of voice, and went into her "es bonitaaa" voice. Black and pink sneakers. She thought they were so beautiful. HA. I wish I could put some kind of voice over thing onto this blog because her tone of voice is so cute. Es bonitaaa, muy buenoooo, si, si, siiiii. Getting it? I love her.
For lunch she said she was making a fillet. Fillet means fillet. FILLET OF WHAT PEPI?? She always says filet, but never specifies what kind of meat/fish we are eating. Carne means meat, and literally that. All meat = carne. They never specify. So to me, I have no friggin clue what I'm eating until it's in my mouth and when I figure it out for myself. The other day we had some fried long thing. Yep, that's the only way to describe it. Fried, long, thing. When I cut into it I saw some mystery meat was wrapped in ham. Okay, ham, i got it. Pepi's daughter came over for lunch so I asked her what was in it.... "carne" she says. Oy vay.. the mystery meat kills me. But back to this filet.... it wound up being pork. It tasted so damn good and it had to have been cooked in butter. Pepi claims its oil, Pepi is also a liar. Totally butter. She acts like Miss Healthy, but gives us everything fried in oil including the plate of cauliflower I had for lunch today.
Before I talk about lunch today I need to talk about last night's dinner. When Pepi "goes out" for the night she leaves us dinner. Both times, it's been the same thing. It was a ham and cheese sandwich on white bread with a shit tone of butter on each piece of bread on the outside. It looked like she wanted us to grill it.... but where? We were confused. Toasters here kinda look like little panini makers so we thought maybe the toaster? We opened up the toaster and there were so many crumbs from god knows what so for the second time we opted to eating the ham, cheese, and butter sandwich as is. We managed to scrape off some butter, but we had to reverse the bread otherwise we were going to have butterfingers and who really wants that? Next time Pepi says she's going out, so am I. I can't take another jamon y queso butter sandwich. No sir.
But at lunch today, she made a chicken and potato stew thing. She also brought out the smoked salmon that she bought for me. So I ate a lot of it, and Marissa had some too. She liked it! I was so happy for her. Now she truly is an honorary Jew in my book. But after this stew came a plate full of cauliflower. I'm talking about an entire tree was on my plate. She fried it of course. I mean it tasted great, but one can eat only so much cauliflower. I eat cauliflower maybe twice a year, and here I had about 5 years worth in one sitting. Who really eats cauliflower? The only time I eat is when it's around dip at a party and the celery is all gone or when my mother makes it taste so good it's like candy. But, that's a special treat for us...
At this point. I usually eat everything on my plate, but I had to leave one tree over. I just couldn't do it. I am so stuffed and Pepi tells me I need to eat the rest of the salmon. I literally felt like a human garbage. Uh, okay Pepi. She said salmon doesn't taste good after you've opened it once. Well Pepi, maybe it's because you don't believe in cellophane. Everything isn't wrapped. Half of a lemon, half of a kiwi, half of a tomato... nothing wrapped, nothing refrigerated. EW! This is what they do here! Everyone talks about their meals every day in class, and everyone is in the same boat. Milk can last like 4 months here and be left out until opened. Still they leave it out overnight. Miguel told us it has something to do with the milk makers boiling the milk to a certain temperature. Yes, I said milk makers. I can't think of the word. Dairy people? Dairians? Farmers? I don't know... but it really freaks me out. So with not wrapping the salmon, yeah Pepi, no wonder why it would taste like shit. So I ate all of the salmon and then took a siesta. That meal took it out of me.
When Pepi says she's going out, I imagine running into her in a bar. Do you think she gets wild? Do you think she wears sexy clothing and flirts with younger men? Marissa and I have made up a fake life for her. We think that when she goes out late and gets late night calls that she's seeing her lover. We really hope so though. She's never been married. We're hoping she's gotten laid at least once in the past 25 years. Whenever she's in a really good mood, we say it's because she got some last night.
So here comes the good stuff: We went out last night to a club called Boss. Before that we went around to some of the local bars around the club. We walked into one, my friend Kelly takes a shot of whiskey, and we move on. Next bar, all Americans. The other CIEE groups finally have arrived so Americans are everywhere. We headed over to Boss and checked our coats for 2 friggin Euros. RIP OFF, but it was better than holding it all night. I ran into a Penn Stater that I am not a fan of. He had no idea who I was. Men and women are really so different. We walked around checking out some hot men and found our friends to be sitting at a table with some Spanish guys. If Down by the Banks and Spin the Bottle had a baby, this would be the game. Everyone had their hands out, singing some Spanish song, slapping hands, and when the song stops you have to pick someone to kiss. AWKWARD. I had to walk away from this group because there were a lot of creepers sitting around. I would rather have kissed one of my girlfriends than some of those people sitting in that circle. So we walked away, danced, sang, drank, and were having a great time. Some people on my trip were having a fantastic time though. Everyone was going at it on the couches. I couldn't believe my eyes. Everyone was paired up and hard core hooking up with their new Spanish man. I was hysterically laughing. Maybe I'm picky, but you couldn't have paid me to make out with those guys.
Then I look at the dance floor and this guy on my trip is going at it with his Intercambio! OH MY GOD. Intercambio love!! It's rare, but it happens. These two are literally head over heels for each other. Very sensual dancers, I died inside a little. So we are walking around, scoping out the place and we find ourselves back to the group of spin the bottle lovers. Some new guys were standing there. When you meet someone new here or say hi, you give a kiss on the left cheek and a kiss on the right. Well, this one crazy man doesn't kiss me on the cheek, but takes a juicy bite out of my neck. Did this stranger just give me a hickey? Oooooooooh I would've been mad. So we walked on because I almost vomited on him I was so disgusted. I look behind me and there are a bunch of middle aged women dancing in a circle around there purses. I thought I was in a Dane Cook skit. They literally all put their purses in the middle of the floor and danced around them. This club had an older crowd and a younger crowd. There was some party going on upstairs so Jordyn and I stepped over some velvet rope and wanted to see what was going on. A man comes up to us and says 'Get. Out.' He sounded a bit German, by the way. Wow, private party. Sorryyyyyy sir. Marissa and Kelly got yelled at for standing on an elevated surface. I guess this place isn't Penn State. Oh well.
We went to talk to some of our Spanish friends and one of them looks at my necklace and starts telling me that my necklace looks like "Nigga bling." Woah. Jordyn and I tell him that he can't say that. He said it's acceptable in Spain to say that. And when you say nigga... it's pronounced Nee-gah. Thanks buddy, I'm so glad you think my nice, expensive necklace looks like jewelry that rappers wear. Nice. But we did get a kick out of the word nee-gah.
As we were leaving of course I lost the ticket to the coat check. After a lot of arguing with the people who have way too much power over coats, and help from a DiscoverSevilla guy, I was able to go in the back and look for my jacket. We were too tired to go to another club at this point so we headed for a late night snack. We wanted to be taken to a place in Nervion because that's where we live and we didn't want to have to take another taxi home. The only place in Nervion is called "Ooh La La" but should be called "Ooh la Gross." Jordyn kept saying to the cab driver "No me gusta Ooh La La, no me gusta Ooh La La." We ended up there in the end because it was our only option. God help me on this one though.... Why when I see the meat and cheese just sitting out knowing its been there for hours, why would I get a sandwich? Well because I have no sweet tooth and I choose salty over some sweet pastry. I went to Culinary School, I'm a Hospitality Management student, I am ServSafe certified, I take nutrition classes and labs, I have learned about food borne illness for 7 years, why would I get a sandwich? I regretted it the minute I got it. I can't even think about it because I will vomit. That cured meat was so cured that when the salt hit my throat it actually hurt. After one bite, and many laughs, I was done. Should've gotten the big chocolate donut like the other 2 crack heads I was with. But looking around the room, people were happily eating there sandwiches. Uh, uh, no way. Ooh la gross.
Marissa and I ran home after that. It was extremely windy last night. There's never any wind here, but last night could have been mistaken for Chicago. Me, in my wedges, started running and got into a comfortable groove. Adrenaline was pushing me home. Marissa in her little CVS bendable shoes practically looks barefoot. Two idiots running down the street in black stockings and skirts. We looked fantastic, not. We laughed the whole way home with the wind in our hair, our toes breaking off, and have completely lost the feeling of our fingers. I've never been so happy to see our front door. We ran up to see Snoop Dawg :)
It was freezing last night and today in the house. In my sleep, I turned Snoop Dawg on. Oh well, sometimes you just have to be rebellious. Pepe le Pew would kill us if she knew he was on as much as he is.
At dinner tonight, we were watching some whack tv show and out of nowhere Pepi says "Gay"and points to the guy on the television. No way did she actually mean gay. A lot of words here sound like English words but are not... they're called 'false friends.' So I say, "Gay?" and she says, "Gay." And I say, "Gay????" and she says, "Gay!" So I say "Gay." and she says, "Gayyy." And I look at the screen and a picture of a book comes on the tv and it says something about a king. In Spanish, king is rey. So I say, "Rey!?" and she says, "GAY!" So in the end, the guy on tv really was gay. I guess gay means gay. She actually said to us, in Spanish of course, "You don't know what gay means!?" Haaaaaaaa we laughed our asses off after that one. Always an interesting time with Pepi. She's becoming famous within our group of friends. I kind of want to bring her into class for Show and Tell.
Marissa hung out with Pepe today while I was napping. Supposedly we are using too much energy and that means she can't have a hot shower. Hold the phone. Snoop Dawg's death or Pepi having a warm shower? Now I feel bad. But not really. GET SOME DAMN CARPET WOMAN, LOWER THE CEILINGS, CLOSE THE WINDOWS, GET CENTRAL HEATING, and then maybe you can have a hot shower. I don't believe her. I bet it's the washing machine going every, single day. She can never take Snoop Dawg away from us.
I don't know how I forgot to mention this... We came home the other day and found random thongs and shirts laying in the foyer. We walk up 3 steps.... thong... 3 more steps... thong..... 6 more... sock. What was going on here? If we followed the trail of clothes would we win a prize!? Was this purposely done? Was she drying stuff on the third floor and it magically started raining thongs and socks? Another mystery of this house.
It's always eventful. Pepi ran out of her blanco cheese today. We survived. We don't know how. I bet there's a huge cheese wheel in the fridge tomorrow.
By the way, she hard boiled eggs. I think she realizes a piece of toast won't be enough for breakfast tomorrow because we are going on a hike. The stubborn bird gave in. And I win. Eggs for breakfast!?
I. think. so.
:-)
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