First off, I FIXED THE SHOWER! Greatest day of my life. So I'm standing there, freezing, naked, miserable, the usual and decided to be proactive. I don't like how the shower is so why would I not make a solid attempt to fix it? So I'm in the shower with not too many tools at my disposable. I should have thought of this before I got in the shower, but I'm not that smart. I have about 5 bobby pins and a hair tie nearby. I recruited the hair tie. I took this long snake of a shower head thing, folded it in half and wrapped my hair tie around 3 times, all at the same time trying to have the hot water hit my body. I slid the hair tie all the way to the top, tucked something here, tucked something there and BAM, I fixed the shower. I can't even tell you (and as I write "you" I say ustedes in my head, great.) how happy I was from that MacGyver moment. It still took me a few minutes just to get my entire head wet because the "trinkle, trinkle" water doesn't really do much, but it was about 100 times better. Marissa has about 8 times as much hair as I do. Good luck to her.
On to food: For lunch the other day Pepi had her crackers and cream cheese and jam out like usual. I've eaten that jam before. It doesn't taste wonderful, but I need a little variety so I grab the jam every now and then from the fridge instead of the I Can't Believe it's Not Butter Spanish version crap. A long time ago, me and the Pepster agreed that we both hate raspberries. Hallelujah, someone who doesn't like raspberries besides myself. But today, we got in a little tiff about jam. She tells me that strawberry jam, what she thought she was eating, is called "fresa" and that raspberry is "frambuesa." Fresa, frambuesa + Pepi's accent... sound the same to me. Say it a few times out loud. So I'm nodding my head along until I realize the jam says "frambuesa" and there's a picture of a raspberry on the damn bottle! I keep pointing and saying "Frambuesa! Frambuesa!" and stubborn Pepi keeps saying "No, no, no" while shaking her head. She said that it's strawberry. So I'm thinking okay, maybe she had a big strawberry jar and she put some in the empty raspberry jar giving her and her wise years the benefit of the doubt. Nope. I take the jar, look inside and there are literally chunks of raspberry in the jar! I knew that shit tasted weird. The Mystery of the Jam Jar has now been solved. In Pepi's mind, its strawberry. But I know the real truth. God, old people really are stubborn.
School: Our wonderful program wants us to speak as much Spanish as possible so they have an Intercambio Program. That means that each American student gets paired with a Spanish student, they meet at least once a week over coffee or drinks or wherever and you speak 30 minutes in Spanish, 30 in English. My Intercambio's name is Ezequiel Munoz. When I met him he said to me, "Ah! Sara Elizabeth!" He thought Elizabeth was my first surname because my full name pops up on my email. Eh-wrong. But it was cute hearing someone call me that just like my Dad does. We got drinks, ate potato chips and helped each other with our languages. It was actually really fun. He is a 26 year old chemical engineer who doesn't live in Sevilla so I'm not sure how often I will see him, but I'm really happy that his English is pretty decent. When we talk, we talk in super slow motion. If he's talking, my face looks a little mangled face. That is the face of anyone trying to understand another language. I'm listening, I'm thinking, I'm understand. It's a pretty great face. The same goes for him. I would randomly stop talking and burst out into laughter because he kind of reminds me of Mr. Bean sometimes. There's an image.
On another note, I met a guy named Alex (Alejandro) at a bar the other night with my friends. He studied English in England for a semester, and he said if he doesn't practice English then he will lose everything he has learned. Completely understandable. So we met for coffee yesterday. What a cute little guy. Again, same thing as my intercambio. We just talked, slowly, and wrote down words for each other. It's easier to talk to them versus Pepi because Pepi is a chatter box. With people my own age I can ask them to repeat sentences slowly, say them myself, and again and again and really learn the language.
CIEE set up an intercambio party at a bar last night. At first, Ezequiel wasn't able to go, but he got out of work early, emailed me, and said he would be there. We all met up outside of this castle looking thing right by the river. Ezequiel was one of the first to show up. As the Spaniards kept showing up they just kept getting older and older. Not old, but not 21. It wasn't what I pictured in my mind at all, but they all were very nice people. I immediately introduced Ezequiel to Marissa. You know how in America we say "Oh Marissa, I've heard such nice things about you!" Well here in Spain, it doesn't translate the same way. Ezequiel looks at Marissa and says, "Oh Marissa! You eat a lot of cheese!" How fantastic is that! She died of laughter as did I when she told me that later on.
I met with Alejandro right before the party so I had my dictionary, little notebook that I take everywhere full of Spanish phrases and what not, and lots of pens with me. I looked like Mary Poppins. My purse last night had the entire world shoved into it. I'm surprised there wasn't a taxi in my purse to take me home at the end of the night. As soon as I took out my dictionary at the party Ezequiel said, "Wow, you really came prepared!" I couldn't tell him I was hanging out with Alejandro right before the intercambio shindig. I felt like I was cheating on him! I said I thought it was useful. Well it was. I look over to my right and Marissa is talking to one of the sexiest men I have ever seen in my entire life and they are playing some weird game with another guy that requires pen and paper. I offer up my dictionary as a hard surface. He smiled, said gracias, and I melted. Ezequiel had to leave and Riss and I were waiting for the other girls so we played this weird ice breaker that helps people get to know each other in a fun way. He works for a company that works with students here by the way, he's not just some random creep luring us in with his charm, good looks, and funny games.
We wound up going out after for tapas and drinks with our friends and some of the people from the intercambio get-together. On Wednesdays at this one place here, everything is 1 Euro. Beer, tinto, tapas all for 1 Euro. Luis (sexy guy) said food is his thing so I let him order. Marissa and Jordyn both had a chocolate sandwich. Yep, chocolate. I honestly couldn't tell you what I had. Oh yea, some kind of steak with fried onions thing and yea... can't really tell you what else. The tapas they serve are only little sandwiches called "montaditos." Sandwiches... tapas.... uh my calling in life? I think so. It's definitely a sign that I live in the one country that is famous for little sandwiches, little appetizers, and a lot of different flavors and taste. More to be written on that...
As we're leaving the Cervezeria ("beer-a-ria") I see something very strange. Image: Small bar, tiny little room to stand or sit to eat. It's no bigger then 2 dorm rooms put together. In the middle of all of this madness a man is shining someones shoes!! Que??? What??? Yep, some guy on his hands and knees shining some other guys shoes. This place is fantastic. Dogs in cafes, shoe shining at midnight in bars... where else, but Spain. At this point we're tired and have essays to write so we had to make it an early night. Part of our assignment was to give out 3 surveys. I have 2 intercambios and a senora.. bam, done, easy. Carolina on the other hand didn't have it so easy. So what does she do? Gives them to the drunk guys sitting down outside of the bar to fill out. Cracks me up! By the way, when I gave it to Ezequiel, he kept saying, "I'm trying to answer these in an easy way. These are hard for American girl." I couldn't really understand what he meant until it finally clicked with him. He thought he was doing my homework for me. What a nice guy! But really, how funny.
As we are getting ready to leave, our intercambio friend from the party shows us how he is a programmer and makes Apps for the iPhone. What did he invent? This game called Sex Party.Of course. It's like the digital version of spin the bottle with dirtier things to do than kissing. You get the hint. Weird, yes, kind of genius... that too.The night gets more interesting by the minute. We say goodbye to our new friends, run into some of our other friends, say goodnight and get in the cab. We all think the funny shit is over with, but no. There has to be more. I look down at my nice, new black leggings and what is on my knee cap? This big huge white, load of crap. I was wearing boots that cover my knees so what went on here? Did a bird fly into my boot, take a big dump on my knee, and fly out? Who knows, but the taxi driver was hysterically laughing at this point and so were all of us. I could go in a completely different comical direction at this point, but I'll leave it to your imagination and keep it G rated.
I wound up waking up at 7:30 this morning to write my essay. Gosh that was brutal. In my squeaky, squeaky bed, I grabbed my surveys, and my laptop and wrote a pretty good essay if I do say so myself using only the light from my computer to function as a human. As I'm interpreting the answers and trying not to move, I'm laughing inside. Alejandro and Ezequiel gave pretty much the same answers. Pepi's answers: No, si, mal, si, no. No, yes, bad, yes, no. Thanks Pepi, thanks for really telling me how you feel, not. She also was adamant on not writing it herself. She literally forced me to write her answers. The whole situation was kind of weird. The questions were about the changes being made to the city by the mayor. It's becoming more of a modern city, and there are a lot of mixed opinions on the subject. She kept getting louder and louder with her answers. I'm never asking the old bird again to fill out a survey. Clearly she doesn't like the mayor....
Anyway, its early and the bed is killing me. I literally can't move, it's that loud. I wake Marissa up every time I move a leg. Us Mintzer's, we have a gene called the tuck gene. We always have to have the blanket tucked under at the foot of the bed. Nope, can't do that here, that requires way too many movements. Pepi did buy us new comforters though. So now we have about 5 blankets AND a comforter. I slept like a dream last night. My comforter is kind of manly and Marissa's is all brown. Last night before going to bed she said, "Ew, why do you have the man blanket?" And I looked at her and said, "Why do you have the shit-colored blanket?!" As if hers is 20 times more beautiful than mine. We laughed for a while. The two of us are just little giggle monsters at night. At Penn State... and here.... always giggling before we go to bed. In the morning though, wow are we grumpy. Full sentences don't come out of our mouths until we are asking if the other unplugged the toaster or figuring out who is getting the key out.
We finally have a clue as to how we walk to el centro. Tomorrow is also our last day of our intensive course at the student center. Once we find out what time our classes are we might not be having lunch anymore at home. Ugh, a bocadillo everyday? I can't have a bread sandwich everyday. No way. By the way, we had some little baby ham and cheese sandwich tonight after our pasta. Strange, I know. Pepi puts "-ito" onto the end of every word meaning little. Her grandson is a chicotito, a sandwich is a montadito. Her chicotito likes montaditos. You put food in the garbagito and eat at the tableito and wear slipperitos and play outsidito and run in the streetito and wash your bodyito and go to sleepito. Clearly an exaggeration, but not really. Every friggin word is "ito!!" It's extremely hard to see the word in your head when -ito is ruining every word for you.
Sometimes we take a "siesta" or nap a little too seriously. We can nap for 3 hours sometimes. Today, I woke up at 8:45, dinner is at 9. Dinner honestly feels like a midnight snack at that point. We eat breakfast at 9 in the morning, lunch at 2:30. Today, Pepi wanted to eat at 4. I almost ate off my left arm today in class. I had to give in and eat a little sandwich during our coffee break. The banana and trail mix in my bag wasn't doing it for me. But Marissa on the other hand hadn't eaten a thing since toast this morning. She immediately ran upstairs for her snacks. We literally rush home for our 2:30 lunch and she wants to eat at 4. Oh lordy, lord, lord.
Random thought: Marissa just reminded me about the flamenco dancers we saw the first week here. The singer guy could actually be replaced by the head Indian chief of the Navajo tribe. The image of flamenco dancers dancing around a fire with sticks singing practically in the same tone of voice as the Native Americnas really is great. That was definitely an unforgettable night.
I haven't studied, I've blogged. It's getting addicting. I'm leaving. Goodnight friends.
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