Ledesma, Spain

So for part of Semana Santa (Holy week=Spring Break) I decided to do Help Exchange. Its a website, helpex.net, where people list any sort of thing they would like people to help them with and then people come to help them with it in exchange for room and board. The type of work ranges from help on a farm, babysitting kids, painting a fence, just about everything! So I was looking for places nearish to Madrid and I found a posting outside of the big university town of Salamanca--Ledesma. The posting pretty much explained that this man, Ron, had purchased a 15th century palace in this small city and is restoring it to turn it into a tea house or theater, or art installation or what he isn't exactly sure yet except that it needs lots of work. I sent him an e-mail saying I would like to come help him with it with my boyfriend Garrett and he said he'd be most happy to receive us. So, we went west to see Salamanca for one night, which is a beautiful city, and then went on to Ledesma.
Ledesma is a splendid little city on a hill with a river wrapping around it. A botanists, bird watchers, rock collectors paradise with many wildflowers, all types of flying eagles, fishing birds, little zippy birds, and many granite formations.

Roman road, roman bridge going on a picnic w/ Ron

Rainbow

Can you see the hidden creature?

Ledesma

Breakfast nook in the palace

We ended up oiling all the wood in the front, what is to be the tea room, of Ron's palace in return for an amazing experience in small town Spain. Full of very friendly people and great outdoors attractions. Ron was a great host who cooked us wonderful food and was very accommodating with my gluten free needs, he even invented special batter and crepe recipes for me. He took us to many places around Ledesma like old roman bridges and roman silver roads, old city washing fountains, and just generally led us around on walks to see the lovely nature abounding in the area and to great swimming holes. He taught us some card games, we made ice-cream together, and had lots of political debates. It was such a nice time in a nice place with a nice man. I'm planning on going back to visit him again while I am here in Spain. I love rural spain and older men who fix up 15th century palaces using all found materials. Reduce, reuse, recycle man, yeah.

Morocco

Went to Morocco, well I guess it was about a month ago but I've been entertaining a special visitor for the last month so I haven't filled anyone in on the African adventures!
So Garrett and I went to Morocco at the end of April. We stayed in the heart of Marrakech for 2 nights then  went to seek a little refuge from the hectic city at the beachside city Essaouira for one night, then back to Marrakech to stay the night before catching an early flight back to Madrid. So that was our Thursday-Monday trip in a nutshell, here is the more elaborate version:
We got into Marrakech at night when activity in the main square, Djema'a Al-Fna, was at its peak. There were snake charmers, monkey handlers, story tellers, henna artisans, musicians, and food carts abounding and everyone was out to see the spectacle. One interesting aspect about life in the square is that although it is in the center of the tourist zone the square was full of Marrakech residents. This is something I had never seen before, usually residents completely avoid tourist districts but here this main square was shared equally between tourists and residents. There was a division between who did what, the storytellers only attracted an audience of locals because the stories were obviously told in arabic but other than that audiences were intermixed that the food carts attracted both residents and tourists to eat. Something I noticed immediately was there were no moroccan women out visiting the square unless they were with husbands or possibly on a date. There were women vendors, selling little pastries or their henna skills but they never had a cart like the other vendors. They would sit on a small stool anywhere in the square and wait for people to come to them. Many of them had their children with them.
We went to find our hotel right away which was a bit scary because it was off the main square but you had to wind around many narrow dark streets in order to get to it and I wasn't sure at that time what areas were safe or not. During our dark alley walk to our hotel we got our first taste of what would make up a large portion of our time in Marrakech, people trying to get your attention anyway they can to get you to enter into their business, in this case hotels. Moroccans, seeing us with our backpacks and me with the map (trying to be discrete about it but really needing it for these little winding streets) knew we were looking for a hotel and so would try to greet us and get us to go into the nearest hotel (there were lots along these streets leaving the main square). They would follow you for awhile still saying things to you to try to get you to give in which was a little unnerving. Finally we found our hotel which was a sweet relief. It was 100 dirham a night (the equivalent to about 9 euros) for a room for two people which was really beautiful; had ornate moroccan tiling. The hotel had a rooftop terrace and a central patio/open air space going up to the roof. We took some time to recollect ourselves and then headed out to the square again.

bought some spices here

The main plaza in Marrakech

We decided to go for a stroll through the medina (the narrow winding streets with carts and business abounding selling everything). It was incredibly crowded and people were again saying hello! hello! english? where are you from? mustache!! (referring to Garrett's mustache he had at the time) anything to get us to look at them and from there they would do their best to get us into their store. This whole experience felt very awkward to me because I'm used to being a friendly person. If someone acts friendly towards me, wants to know where I come from, acts like they care and are interested it would normally be very rude for me to just give them the cold shoulder, never look them in the eye and go quickly away.  But of course the vendors know that if they can get you to feel bad and make it seem like it is you who is being rude to them for ignoring a friendly advance you are more likely to actually acknowledge them and then get sucked into their vendor scheme where all the sudden you are in their store and they've handed you something which there is no way you can give back and now you have to pay for it. But this happens every 5 steps you take in Morocco which 1) was very stressful and 2) made me feel like a mean person which got really wearing.

Morocco is an islamic country which means instead of a church every 3 blocks there was a mosque (which no non-muslim is allowed to enter even though they look so beautiful and enticing) and this means when the call to pray happens at many times throughout the day, its loud! Each mosque has a singer with a megaphone making the call at the top of the tower (one of which was right outside our hotel, the 5am call was cool...) then you can watch all the men file into the nearest mosque.
Another frequent happening while in Morocco was getting ripped off. Had to get used to asking how much a meal or something was before sitting down to eat pretty fast. Also on buses, twice. I knew to avoid all the people in and out of the bus station offering to lead you to the right window to buy your ticket because they'll demand payment but it was really hard to shake them. You'd walk in and they'd swarm you and try to take guesses at where you were headed and would make it impossible for you took look around and try to see for yourself what window you needed to go to in order to buy the right ticket from the right company. When we went to the moroccan station to buy the ticket to Essaouira it was really overwhelming but I got us to the right both but then one of the people trying to lead us to the window which I had found myself but he just followed us all the way there tried to take over me buying the tickets. We got the tickets and then he said the price was double what it should have been I knew from my travel book. I confronted him on it but he said this was a bus which wouldn't make any stops and therefor get us there in half the time.  If this was true, I felt like it would be worth paying more for the tickets but then again, I had no way of actually knowing if he was telling the truth. Well, because this was still in the first 24 hours in Morocco I wasn't used to being lied to and cheated all the time so I went ahead and bought the tickets. The bus was just the regular bus, made lots of stops anywhere anyone seemed to be stopped and waiting for a bus. Then again, buying bus tickets from Essaouira back to Marrakech we got there and I didn't have specific information on what window to go to and I didn't see any window with the bus company name I knew I wanted so I felt like I really didn't have any other option but to go to one of the people who makes their livelihood leading people to the buses they want to take. He took me to one that looked pretty rickety and told me the price, which was about how much I had payed to get to Essaouira on a nicer bus that was supposed to be the fast one so I knew I was getting ripped off but I also just really wanted to return to Marrakech and I didn't know when another bus would be coming so I went ahead and payed it. That was the worst bus ride I've ever had. As we were pulling out I saw a really nice, clean, roomy bus pull up to board and then head to Marrakech :-( I was very sad that I wasn't on that bus because surely the tickets would have cost the same. The bus I was on made even more stops than on the way to Essaouira and it was sooo hot cause we were traveling during the hottest part of the day and it was so crowded people were standing in the aisle crammed together. I also saw what a moroccan woman payed to get on the bus--40 dirham. I paid 120. I spent the whole 4 some hours so hot, with a baby kicking my seat, super squished, thinking the whole time about how I got ripped off and how much I wanted to be on that other bus I saw. When we got off the bus the 80 some degree day hit me like a breathe of fresh air, a brick of ice really; it was that hot on the bus. So there are just two of the 4 or 5 times we got ripped off in one way or another. Each time it happened it really put me in a bad mood, boo.

Tajine

One of the very best parts of the trip was eating! Moroccan food is so good! Amazing flavorful spices used in everything. The table setting is salt, delicious pepper, and fresh ground cumin. I put cumin on everything it was so good. They also valued vegetables there which was a nice change from Spain. Great Moroccan salads with every meal: tomatoes, cucumber, onion, delicious blend of spices, oil and who knows what else, but all fresh! And the vegetables they did cook, like with their Tajines (a yum yummu meat dish cooked in an iconic clay dish from which it gets its name), still maintained the form of a vegetable which was amazing for me to see because Spain, if they have vegetables, love to cook them into an unidentifiable moosh. Also, really great orange juice! There were orange just carts all around Marrkech selling orange juice that they'd squeeze right in front of you for 4 dirham. I had lots of the best orange juice of my life. Also great mint tea after you finished every meal with tons of sugar. I was so, so sad to leave moroccan cuisine but I bought some spices there so that I could make something with flavor here in Spain.
Morocco was beautiful place to just walk around and appreciate the architecture, tiles, arabic archways etc. I'm used to doing a lot of walking away from from tourist areas when I travel becuase thats usually where you find all the cool stuff but as soon as I ventured away from that zone in Marrakech people would all stare at you and tell you to turn around and go back, try to lead you to the nearest tourist attraction. It made me feel unsafe so I only spent a limited amount of time in the real workers districts of Marrakech.
I'll relate an experience which really stuck with me that I saw in the main square in Marrakech. Garrett and I were getting some orange juice at an orange juice cart just watching the happenings when all of the sudden one of the women selling pastries with her 1 or 2 old picks up the little plastic stool she was sitting on and charges at a little boy of maybe 6 years old all alone, selling the same thing, and hits him hard with her stool. He immediately started to run off but she chased him continuing to beat him. He lost his shoe about this third fleeing step. She comes walking back with her stool, picks up his shoe, and sits back down again as if nothing had happened. A minute or so later the little boy walks back crying, with only one shoe and sits back down on the plastic bench he was sitting at. The woman is talking to him in a harsh tone from her stool and lets him retrieve his shoe from her. He then walks over to the cart we were standing at to examine his wounds in the mirrored front. He is bleeding from several spots on his face after his attack but after seeing the damage he goes back to his bench trying to sell his sweets, all the while still crying. I have no idea what happened to spark the anger from that woman but I don't condemn her. She lives in an extremely oppressive society for women and it could very well be she only mimics the abuse that she has received her whole life. At the same time I'm not trying to make excuses, it just definitely made an impression on me. I'm so privileged and you don't really understand that until you experience things like this. I never had to go selling pastries alone at 6 years old, get beaten, maybe have no place to go home to after said experience or maybe just know I had to sell more to support myself or family before I could go home. Its easy to look around you and say, well I'm not staying in the 5 star walled in hotels around this city walking, around in designer fashion, etc etc and its THEM who are privileged. But no, its me, its you, its everyone I have a relationship with in this world. Even some of the poorest people in the U.S. are greatly privileged in comparison to the quality of life in many other parts of the world. Seeing things like that really make it hard to forget how lucky I am in life and empower and motivate me to do more for my fellow human beings, keeping me on the right track in life.

Essaouria

Essaouira was a really nice break from Marrakech. It was a much more relaxed beach town where people didn't seem to be trying to get your attention quite as much. It was a very beautiful city, all the buildings were blue and white and there were fresh strawberries to eat everywhere. We spent a lot of time just relaxing from the Marrakech stress.
So thats just an idea of the Morocco trip. It was the most stressful vacation I've ever taken, you had to always be on your guard but it was also incredibly rewarding to see and experience all the things I did and visit a place unlike any other. It is a gorgeous country and I'd love to return to see more but I don't think I could spend any more than 4 days in a row there, too much stress!

Lisbon Trip

Went to Lisbon, Portugal last weekend. What a beautiful place, beautiful time. I can easily say it is my favorite city in Europe and now I will explain why.
So I did CouchSurfing there as usual. The first person to accept me seemed very friendly, but then due to various things including but not limited to google telling me his address didn't exist and then him insisting on picking me up from the airport made me decide to last minute bail on him and search for another couch. After coming to the city and spending time with the Portuguese what scared me about staying him could have just been a cultural difference, where as an American if someone seems TOO nice and something seems TOO good to be true we automatically become wary of the person and the situation, which is pretty much what happened. In the end, I'm still glad I looked for a new couch to surf because I ended up staying with an amazing portuguese boy and creating for sure a lifetime friendship.
The first day we got there (I went with Lisa--my coworker--and on a side note, as much as I enjoy traveling alone like I have been doing it was really nice to have a partner this time, takes away a lot of the stress) we went to the city and just started wandering around and our wanders were pretty much from one restaurant, to one cafe, to one dessert store, to another cafe etc because as we quickly learned, Portuguese food is delicious! We did a bit of sight seeing but mostly just getting a feel for the city by wandering the streets and seeking refuge under gazebo-like trees and bus stops from the occasional rainy time. This left us with an extremely positive view of Lisbon because of the span of history that is there, from modern to ancient and everywhere we went we ran into friendly people. People not just being friendly to us but also just watching random people meet each other in bus stops and starts conversations. There was a positive since of community and a willingness to include others in that community. Later that evening we met up with our couchsurfing host when he got off work and went out to a cafe with a beautiful friend of his from Istanbul who gave us a detailed plan of exactly what we should do with our next day in Portugal-which Chris tried to follow the next day but it was just too much to do so we weren't able to complete everything but it was definitely a good outline. That night we made a traditional Portuguese meal together and Chris played several of his many instuments. We turned his living room into a Fado house (the traditional music of portugal) by connecting youtube to the TV because we knew we wouldn't have time to see in live while we were there. We also had lots of deep conversations about cultural and the world and I think both of us learned quite a bit.
In the morning Chris drove us around to show us some neat places on our way into Lisbon (Chris lives in Cascais, Portugal which is a beach town ~20 min west). One of the places we went to was LX or Lisbon factory which is an area of Lisbon under a bridge that was just abandoned factories and poor communities which they decided to rent to design, art, and other culturally places at a reduced price with the agreement that in a number of years they will be tearing the area down and all those places will have to move, but for now it is a place full of really awesome bookstores, cafes, and art. We went to lunch there and I had the most amazing meal of my life: chestnut stuffed suckling pig. SO GOOD. If I would have gotten a meal like this in the US with the atmosphere we had and presentation, quality of food etc, it would have cost probably $30 for the plate but it was only 13 euros! A lot for food in portugal but so worth it. Mmmm. A baby pig is the exact size of my belly I learned after eating the dish.
Later we ran off because a demonstration that Chris wanted to join in was starting. Chris informed us the previous night about many of the problems in Portugal currently and this protest was against the government who doesn't listen to the wants and needs of the people as well as protesting about living wages for educated people. After getting a degree or masters degree many people cannot find jobs that pay them what their skills are worth, the minimum wage in Portugal is 480 euros a month and many college graduates make around that which is obviously not enough to live on nor enough to incentivize school. So anyway, I marched with the protest for an hour or so because I sympathized with the cause and also thought it might be silly to have an American thrown in there next to communist flags and anti-capitalism posters (the protest was organized by the communist party).
 Lisa and I left the protest after awhile because we still had a lot of Lisbon left to explore. We explored the old Moorish quarter on our own and could hear the shouts from the protest all the way up on the highest hill of Lisbon. We met up with Chris n friends for more eating, followed by live music watching, and lastly Barrio Alto hanging. All the night we talked of "the revolution", America, and Lisbon and well, I guess we talked of lots of things but I enjoyed our conversations of those things the most.
The last part of Lisboa we went to that night, Barrio Alto, was a really incredible night time spot. Lisa and I had already been there Friday during the day but at night it turns into a whole different spot. All young people fill up the streets of the whole neighborhood (and its not so small). We were told by Chris and friends that its the place were you go and as you are walking you run into everyone, including your old friend from 4th grade and stop to have a chat. As soon as we entered the zone we found it to be true. There were probably thousands of people in the streets but no matter where we went our group constantly ran into friends and stopped to chat for a bit before wandering again. It was just an incredibly friendly area with a very positive vibe. I met many people there, all so willing to be friends with a stranger and have conversations that really matter. I found people very curious about my opinion on things in the US and the US in general.
Our plane was to leave at 7:40a so we thought we'd just stay up all night hanging out in beloved Lisbon until it was time to go but we ended up having such a good time at the end of the night talking and laughing with our new found portuguese friends in a park with a great view that we realized it was already 4:30a and we still had to go back to Cascais to get our stuff etc. At this point I would have started running down the hill (we were in Barrio Alto translation, high city) towards the car but Portuguese don't really work like this, there is never any rush and it took us forever to make it to the car as along the way we had to give long goodbyes to members of our group who broke off with us to head back to their homes. We finally made it back to Chris's threw our stuff in our bags and headed to the train station to see the train depart as we approached. So, earlier in a post I mentioned how my favorite high during traveling was to run run run to and barely catch a train, while my least favorite is to see the train leave while you are standing so close to it! We get there and see the next train comes in half an hour, so we will still probably make the plan, it will just be a rush. We say sad good bye to Chris and he and his friends promise to come visit us while we are in Madrid. Then we wait for the train in the cold, and wait, and wait, and wait and wait.....and suddenly its 10 min past the time the train was supposed to arrive, then 20, then 30....then we realize that it muse have just been an invisible train that was scheduled to come at the time listed on the schedule and because Lisa and I forgot our invisible train glasses we must have missed it. So now we know we are probably going to miss our plane because the next train doesn't come for another half hour, but at least this one was not of the invisible variety. When we get to the train station we debate taking a taxi and flying over to the airport just to see if we can maybe maybe catch our plane but we are flying with easyjet and they make you check in 40min before the plane leaves otherwise you don't get on the plane and we are sure we aren't going to make that so we went with the aerobus which would be cheaper. When we get there at 8:00a we realize we had the departure time wrong, the plane wasn't going to depart at 8a but at 8:30a so if we would have taken the taxi we still probably could have made our flight!! OHHHH how frustrating, I'm still frustrated about that writing this now because getting a new flight cost us 60 euros and our round-trip airfare was just 70 euros originally. The next plane wasn't till 2:30p so we do our best at airport sleeping, which obviously isn't so good. The plane is delayed until 3:40p, of all the planes to be delayed!!!!! Finally, I get home exhausted at 9p (we lose an hour coming back to Spain) and quickly head off to bed.
Except for that unfortunate ending (I blame the outcome on that darned invisible train!) the trip was a marvel, a really truely wonderful time and I can't wait to return to the beautiful city and beautiful people. I hope in the future I get an opportunity to live/work in Portugal, I think I could spend a good while there eating well, being well, hanging out with the greatest people on earth.

Revisiting Spanish Health Care

 I mentioned in an earlier post that I went to the Dr for the first time and it all seemed different but alright? Okay, well now, after more experiences, I would like update that thought.
So last Wednesday night I get a text from Lisa, one of the auxiliars I work with who lives in Alcalá as well, saying her ears really really hurt and she needs to go to the Dr but needs help cause she is really sick. Its 10pm so the Doctor she usually goes to is closed and she doesn't know where to do. I happened to be hanging out with a group of my Spanish friends at the time so I asked them where was an Urgencias or something. Then I realized, they all have public state provided health care and we have private so whatever they normally do won't work for us. I will note, however, that they said they would just go to the hospital after hours for anything they needed. Then me and my friends looked online to try to find some sort of Urgent care or 24 hour health care, what we found were 24 hour veterinarians. Really.  So I abandoned he search with the Españoles and headed over to Lisa's flat.
When I got there I asked her if  she'd done any internet searching to see what services she could find. She had, all she'd found were vets. Okay, well at least we are on the same page...  I flip through our private healthcare book and there is no category for urgent care or 24 hour care. The hours for all doctors are either not listed or not open past 8pm. Then I remember the healthcare facility I went to earlier in the week had a banner on their webpage that said "Cuidamos  a su salud 24 horas al día" or "We care for your heath 24 hours a day". I call them to make sure they are open because frequently hours Spanish businesses say they will be open and they hours they are actually open do not always align. No one answers. This is also not uncommon for Spanish businesses, it is likely there was someone by the phone who just didn't feel like picking it up. I figure I'll walk over there because its like 15 minutes away and see if its open and then call Lisa and have her walk over if it is. I get there, definitely closed. So I guess the "We care for your health 24 hours a day" all over their website was just meant that they care in their hearts and minds, not actually care as in provide care. Well thats kind of sweet but mostly annoying. I call Lisa to discuss our options. Oh yes, we also cannot find a hospital listed anywhere in Alcalá but I know there is one because people talk about it. The only hospitals we could find are in Madrid, so like 60 euro cap ride? is one option OR dressing Lisa up as a dog and taking her to one of the many 24 hour vets. Then I remember seeing an Urgencias sign on my way to the bus stop for work at a public health place. I head there thinking even if they can't treat us they would probably know where we could go.
I get there and explain the situation, we have Mapfre private health care, my friend is really sick, we don't know where to go. The man behind the counter is pensive. He says go ahead and bring her there but don't mention anything to anyone ever about us having Mapfre. Okay! So at lease we have a place to go! I go get lisa, and this place is like far from her house, 30min walking probably. So we make it there and she gets treatment. BUT I realize that if the healthcare man told us to just secretly come there then there is probably no place for us to go after hours. Skkkuuurrrryyy, what if I have a late night emergency? I guess its the vets for me! What I thought was really great health insurance that covers me on practically everything (prosthetics, fertility treatment, every kind of everything) is actually only great if I need treatment between the hours of 8a and 8p, oh wait, except from 2-5p because thats siesta....
Experience #2
So after this late night Doctors extravaganza (I finally got home at 1a) I went to Barcelona. Which was great great great except for the fact I was really sick. Mostly just body aches and excruciating throat pain.  So anyway, I wait till I get back to Alcalá to go to the Dr and I think I probably have strep throat. In the US you definitely get swabbed for strep but here I told him my symptoms he looked at my throat and said yep, its inflamed. You said you had a fever? Me-Yes, yesterday for sure. Can we take my temperature now though? Him- No, there is no thermometer here. Me in my head- What?! No thermometer??? At a Doctor's office? Wheerrreeee ammmmm IIIIIII? Him-- I'm prescribing you antibiotics.   So I got antibiotics but without any sort of a test or any trying to figure out what it actually was, just the fact that I said I had a fever and that my throat looked inflamed.
The next morning when I get out of the shower I notice (well I see blaring at me in the mirror) a red blotchy rash all over my face, neck, and back. So, I go to the Dr. again but this time it is in the morning so its a different doctor. They don't make a chart or record any information on you even if you go to the same facility like I have been doing so I tell her my story. She tells me to stop using soap on my face. But I've used my same face soap for ears and its Cetaphil which is for extra sensitive skin, no perfumes, nothing. Nope, its surely your face soap, don't use soap just wash with water.  Okay, well what about the rash on my back? Thats probably from something else she says and she leaves it at that. She doesn't ask to see my back the only rash exploration is does is look at my face and touch my cheek. She also prescribes me an anti-inflammatory cream for my face. My instructions are, wash with with water, apply lotion and this cream. I leave wanting an American doctor.
The rash continues the whole time I'm taking these antibiotics and has now gone away that I'm off them. Its a relatively common side effect of the antibiotic I was taking which I found out by looking online but what my Doctor didn't know.
Long blog short, if anything happens to me here, I'm coming home for health care. I want my doctor to at least have a thermometer amongst his/her medical equipment.

Ranting n happenings

I've changed the language of this blog to English due to complaints. I hope navigating is now easier for you allz.
Sketchy people are on my mind today so lets talk about them. So the other night I was in downtown Madrid and was headed back to Alcalá at 3am which is terribly early by Spain standards and was the reason why I was making the trek alone. At 11:30p the Cercanias trains which connect Madrid to its suburbs stop and at 1:30p the Madrid Metro stops. When you pass both these times it means you are destined to navigated los búhos (the owls) or the night buses that start running at 1a and go till 6a when the metro opens (the cercanias open at 5am but if the metro isn't open then there really isn't a easy way to get to the stops). So I was figuring out my route bus by bus and as I was waiting for my first one this guy who maybe drunk or on drugs or maybe just an interesting guy starts talking to people at the bus stop and others were talking to him so when he starting talking to me I joined in the conversation. One thing I hate though and I don't understand why people ask is the, "where are you headed?" question. Which, okay when you are making conversation at a bus stop maybe is kind of expected but needing specific answers isn't. I'm headed home/to a club/to a friend's house etc should be really really more than sufficient but soo many times people really really want to know more. Where? Obviously when I'm traveling alone this is not a question I answer but instead of showing them I'm sketched I'll usually always mention the small town my school is in because no one ever has any idea where that is. Sometimes though people are just too darn curious and still want more. Eventually I have to get to the point where I tell them "I prefer not to say". I would think that any normal person who wasn't planning on following me home wouldn't be asking me the exact directions to my house and yet I run into people practically asking me exactly this all the time. I'm starting to wonder if its a cultural thing but I find it really annoying and kind of rude. Especially, when people take offense to me not telling them exactly where I'm headed--well too bad for them, they can cry to me all they want I'm stay stubborn about this rule of mine.
Another pet-peeve. People trying to pressure me to eat their snacks. Kinda sounds silly but to me its really not. I've heard a few stories of people (especially on buses) who meet a really nice person who offers them a drink which they see them open, they accept and then they are drugged. I remember on specific instance on the bus from Córdoba to Madrid, which was like 6 hours, there was a man sitting next to me with alll sorts of snacks and opened like everything he had trying to get me to eat or drink something laughing at me and saying well you have to eat something! Actually I don't. I'm never going to eat your stranger snacks Mr. Stranger.
I actually believe that the vast majority of these experiences I have which make me really uncomfortable and I feel are really sketch actually aren't. I think the world is filled with almost all good people. Its just that one sentence phrased wrong or just being really really nice and offering me your food or trying to be really helpful or wanting me to tell you exactly where I live to help me figure out my route late at night to get home safely is going to make me label you a sketchball and make me keep my distance just in the rare chance that you aren't Mr. or Ms. Helpful.
Sometimes it just gets really tiring always being on the lookout for Mr. n Ms. Sketch and it gets really frustrating when people who probably aren't actually you, Mr. Sketch, do obviously sketchy things to someone who is obviously traveling alone.  When people ask me if I am and I go with the, "No, no, I'm with my friend but they are meeting me right when I get off the bus etc etc etc" people always laugh to themselves. Its an old line, everyone knows exactly what that means--you are totally totally traveling alone alone. Anyway, basically I just wish people would stop asking me where I'm headed and trying to feed me. I'm gluten intolerant and probs can't eat anything you have anyway peoples! If everyone in the whole world would stop doing this, I wouldn't have to write this blog out of frustration and my travels would be easier.
Okay phew! Sometimes you just need to vent!
Now what have I been up to:
I found quinoa! I walk by an Herbolarío which are just like a small natural stores which I had read on the internet had quinoa and the one I found didn't...ha, but the old man behind the counter wrote it down on a list and said to stop by tomorrow afternoon and he'd have it! Now lets just see the price when I go...
Oh yes, had my first experience with Spanish healthcare this week. Well I have private insurance so its not the real Spanish healthcare that the gov't provides. I just had a really bad cold given to me by all those snotty nose children I work with I'm sure and when you miss a day of school you have to get a dr.'s note justifying your absence so I was just going to get that note. I get there and the front lady tells me to go ahead and go into the Dr.'s room cause she doesn't think that there is anyone inside. So, I do but there is definitely someone inside. Opps! Kinda awkward. That was a red flag difference between US and Spanish healthcare cause they would never just have yo go check out yourself to see if you were interrupting someone's doc visit or not. They also didn't go through all the motions of the Dr.'s visit that they do in the US. I've never gone to the Doc without BP and temp taken, probably height and weight too. None of that was done at this visit and I was even sick! She listened to my breathing, felt my neck and took a look at my throat then gave me mi justificación and I was outta there without making a prior appt in 7 min maybe.
Oh yeah, some other interesting bits. So school sometimes has people come and try to sell us things during our teacher's break where we eat snacks n chat while the kiddles are on recess. I'd heard this happens really frequently at some schools but this is the first time I'd seen it personally. A nice old salesman in a tweed jacket with a paisley handkerchief in the pocket and patches on the elbows brought knives, pots n pans, a vacuum and a memory foam pillow to sell to us. He gave his shpeel and I think a couple of the teachers did buy things. He also handed out free kitchen scissors to everyone that were quite nice and I was psyched cause I didn't have any scissors. Anyway, just thought that was something you wouldn't have seen during school hours in the US. Also something you wouldn't see is teachers kissing the kids which you see all the time here. On girl was crying cause she is 10 and life is hard I suppose and the PE/Math teacher was teaching (he looks and moves almost exactly like Mr. Bean!) and saw it so he just walks over n hugs her, whispers something calming in her ear and kisses her all over her face. I think it is really nice, it was very calming to her and she immediately recovered and the class went on but oh my goodness! If that happened in the US! lawsuits would be filed.
Meow, okay there's your update. Till next time!

Más adventuras

So this weekend I've stayed in Madrid. I started out Friday with battling Spanish Bureaucracy, heading to the Office of the Foreigner to apply for my NIE, the equivalent of a Social Security number, but for foreigners. Its certainly been an eye opening processes. I always here it is hell for foreigners in the US to get a SS number and work with our government for Visas etc but now I have a little taste of what it is like for real. Spain is no where as tough as the US I'm sure but there sure are a million conflicting directions and people telling you different things and different papers to fill out, long lines, and general mayhem. I was finally able to meet with someone and submit my application for my number which will allow me to do several things; the one I'm most excited about is opening a bank account so I can buy my plane tickets in Euros and save lots of money. Its supposed to be ready in 10 days...I'll let you know how it works out. In March I have an appointment to apply for my foreigner ID card which will replace the need for me to carry around my passport as a form of ID, that will take 45 days from the time I apply to be ready though so I'll have it for like a month before I leave....thanks Spain. I will need it to get out of the country though so I really hope the don't mess it up and delay it.
After that I went and explored Madrid the rest of the afternoon which is pretty silly to admit but I haven't done that in the daytime yet. I wandered around the downtown for a bit just fallin' in love with the city. I love Madrid, really really really. Its a beautiful, amazing, big city. Watch out Portland! You've got competition for my love! But you aren't really that big so maybe I just shouldn't put you in the competition.
That night when I got back I was feelin' pretty ready for just a movie and then bed but my friend I met on Couch Surfing (also an auxiliar, from Atlanta) messaged me asking if I wanted to go on a hike in the snow the next day at 6am. Of course I did, so this meant I went to bed immediately so I could wake up early and go.
The hike was really cool, around 25 couch surfers all met together in Manzanillas? where there is a regional recreation park. The main guy who planned it was older but really awesome. He knew the place really well and was quite the tour guide. I was incredibly unprepared for a snow hike (just had on regular pants and tennis shoes) but figured I could handle 5 or 6 hours of cold wet feet for an awesome hike with cool people. Uhhh, this was an intense 10 hour hike! We were still hiking out of the park for a good 30 min after it was completely dark out. The climb up wasn't so bad but we went straight down the mountain, like sliding down ice on our butts sometimes on purpose, mostly not on purpose though. It took us like 3 hours to get down the side. I'm scratched and bruised and sore all over but it was a ton of fun and as frozen as my soggy feet were 6 hours into the hike I would do it all over again. I'm fully converted to the Couch Surfing website, let me tell you. I meet some of the greatest, friendliest people from all over the world. So after leaving Alcalá at 6am to get to Madrid and then go to Manzanilla I got home at 9pm to find my heater was not working and there was no hot water! OH my poor wet, frozen feet. After a few good shakings my heater starts working and so I forget about the shower, eat dinner, and crash.

Today I woke up feeling warm, rested, and sore a pretty good combination I think. Hopefully tonight I'll get to finally watch that movie I had my heart set on a few nights ago...

Galicia

I went to Galicia last weekend, a NE province of Spain just above Portugal. Wow! Is it different than everything I've seen of Spain so far. Its kind of out of the way of any other Spanish destination so its preserved from tourists mostly. Its has the most beautiful country landscapes sprinkled here are there with the occasional village made up of 4 or 5 old stone houses.
I flew to Galicia on Ryanair, which is the dreaded low cost airline of Europe but it was nice to finally join the discussions about resenting Ryanair. It was only a 1 hour flight but would have been a 9 hour bus ride for the same cost. I spent my first night in Santiago de Compostela, the end of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. I couch surfed with a really chill guy, Borja, and actually ended up getting my very own room looking into a main plaza of the city. It was a great experience staying with Borja and his roomies, I learned a lot about Galicia. The next day I explored Santiago. It was freezing! I went to the market built in the 1920s to get fruit and cheese for breakfast. There was a very friendly cheese lady who helped me pick a traditional Galician cheese for breakfast. One of the traditional cheeses is made in the shape of a woman's breast (ish) as a rebellion against an event that took place where an old sculpture in town was done of a beautiful curvy woman but the church made the sculpture tone down the pretty parts :-) I had a lovely breakfast listening to a street Gaita (bagpipe, traditional music in galicia for the celtic influence) player. Then I realized I was completely frozen and read in a cafe with a warm drink for an hour followed by attending the pilgrims' mass. Saw them limp in after their journey but didn't witness anything miraculous. I hugged St James like you are supposed to and also didn't notice any major life changes. Siesta time in Galicia is even more intense than in Madrid! Places close at 1pm and then don't open again until in between 5-7! Oh man. Wasn't expecting that so I missed some of the sight exploration I would have liked to do while in Santiago.
Next stop Lugo! Where I met up with a friend from College who is also an auxiliar (doing the same job I do, we are called auxiliars of conversation and culture) and stayed at his place for a few days. A crazy thing about Galicia is that their first language is Gallego, a blend between Spanish and Portuguese. All their signs are in Gallego and everyone speaks it to one another so it kind of felt like I was in a whole different country. When I heard people talking I'd kind of assume it was Spanish because it sounds very similar and I could recognize a few words so many times I just felt like my Spanish was bad, but no, its a different language. I'm glad I wasn't placed in a region where Castillaño itsn't the first language because I think it would be harder to learn Spanish well. Lugo was nice, everything was very cheap, there is a great tapas scene, great food (had pulpo octopus, and loved it!) and the longest fully intact roman wall in Europe which surrounds the old town completely. Marquis (the friend from school with whom I stayed) and I walked all the way around it on the pathway on top of the wall. It was really nice and I got a nice view of the city that way.
One of Marquis' friends took us out to a small village in the country for a "surprise". Which turned out to be visiting the ancestral home of the Castros who are from Galicia (along with many other revolutionaries like Franco, Che, great authors, actors, writers). He thought it was the best thing and stopped everyone walking by in the small village to say in Gallego, "Hey look! I brought a couple of Americans to see the Castro home!" He also took tons of pictures of us standing at the door. I thought it was great though, pretty silly n fun. We also went to tour a cool rural tourism place that was quite traditional galician in every way. It was a beautiful, fun afternoon and weekend.