There should be a video on this page, but if it doesn't work.. GO HERE! (you should probably watch this)
31 October 2010
30 October 2010
26 October 2010
PICHITA
Today begins Halloween week, and this means nothing except that my babies (ages 12-35) get to try candy corn for the first time, thanks to my parents. Naturally, I'm way more excited about Halloween then anyone in Spain, mostly because they don't really celebrate it. It's definitely a more western holiday, and whatever they know about it boils down to horror, vampires and blood. It's easier for them to keep Halloween simple because Europeans have Carnival, which is way crazier than our 31st, so.. The kids have been participating a lot this week because I preface each lesson with "there is a surprise at the end of the class IF you speak English a lot. An AMERICAN surprise."Anyways, Friday I'm planning on dressing up a little, give them a real reason to stare at the white girl in the halls.
Today some notable things happened. First, with my 4th level "special" class we had mini oral exams. They just had to speak for about a minute about themselves. Their names, ages, birthdays, star signs (seeens), phone numbers and addresses. At the end of the hour they practiced asking me questions, but María, the professor, requested that they brainstorm questions with more complex answers instead of just, "how old are you?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" etc etc... So, with María's help the first few were really good, "what is your dream?" "What do you want to change in the world?" 3rd question, "what is your email address?" Muaahaha.. my turn to screw with them. The second they all realized I was going to tell them something they scrambled for pens and pencils.
Someone yells from the back of the room "Despacio, eh???!!!"
María screams back, "IN ENGLISH!"
Student responds, "Ehslow pleeez."
So I answer, "youwish@gmail.com."
Kids, "HUH????¿¿¿"
Me, "y-o-u-w-i-s-h-@gmail.com."
Smart kid that puts things together faster than the others, "Tu deseo?" (Your wish)
Rest of the class, "OOOOOOoooooh, her desire."
María, "NO NO NO. It's not possessive! 'Tú deseas en Castellano."
Me, "It's an expression."
María, "Google it."
Students giggle, so excited.
Later that day, 3rd years. We've been talking food for a week or so. Today they get to make their own menus for a restaurant. María requires them to have a vegetarian section for me, so amazing. Jordi is charging 10€ for whiskey. Not going there. Sheila is charging 22€ for hamburger and fish but only 2€ for wine, (she gave me a discount from the original 3€ menu price). And then there is Carlos. Carlos with his gold bling, huge diamond earrings, baggy pants and the first one to greet me everyday, "Hgggggiiiiii Karrrrrli." His restaurant is "in" New York. He tried to name it Pizzita (little pizza). Instead, in Spanish, he accidentally named it "Little Penis." María first explains to the class what Carlos did and then whispers to me, "Hehehe, there's only one reason why he did that, right?"
Halloween is Sunday and the Monday after is a holiday. Then I work Tuesday and Wednesday. And Thursday I'd normally work, however, the program requires some 3 hour mandatory group session, talk about logistics, our roles in the schools etc etc etc... Immediately after, John and I have a bus to catch to..... Calatayud! I left a bunch of stuff there over the summer instead of lugging it all home and back again, plus I really miss my homies and I get to visit my old school, show John small town Spain.
Pictures coming soon to my online Picasa album.
Ya'll having a nice week?
Hope your costumes are coming together nicely... Not sure where this years inspiration will come from but I could certainly revisit the past for ideas if need be.....!!!
Today some notable things happened. First, with my 4th level "special" class we had mini oral exams. They just had to speak for about a minute about themselves. Their names, ages, birthdays, star signs (seeens), phone numbers and addresses. At the end of the hour they practiced asking me questions, but María, the professor, requested that they brainstorm questions with more complex answers instead of just, "how old are you?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" etc etc... So, with María's help the first few were really good, "what is your dream?" "What do you want to change in the world?" 3rd question, "what is your email address?" Muaahaha.. my turn to screw with them. The second they all realized I was going to tell them something they scrambled for pens and pencils.
Someone yells from the back of the room "Despacio, eh???!!!"
María screams back, "IN ENGLISH!"
Student responds, "Ehslow pleeez."
So I answer, "youwish@gmail.com."
Kids, "HUH????¿¿¿"
Me, "y-o-u-w-i-s-h-@gmail.com."
Smart kid that puts things together faster than the others, "Tu deseo?" (Your wish)
Rest of the class, "OOOOOOoooooh, her desire."
María, "NO NO NO. It's not possessive! 'Tú deseas en Castellano."
Me, "It's an expression."
María, "Google it."
Students giggle, so excited.
Later that day, 3rd years. We've been talking food for a week or so. Today they get to make their own menus for a restaurant. María requires them to have a vegetarian section for me, so amazing. Jordi is charging 10€ for whiskey. Not going there. Sheila is charging 22€ for hamburger and fish but only 2€ for wine, (she gave me a discount from the original 3€ menu price). And then there is Carlos. Carlos with his gold bling, huge diamond earrings, baggy pants and the first one to greet me everyday, "Hgggggiiiiii Karrrrrli." His restaurant is "in" New York. He tried to name it Pizzita (little pizza). Instead, in Spanish, he accidentally named it "Little Penis." María first explains to the class what Carlos did and then whispers to me, "Hehehe, there's only one reason why he did that, right?"
Halloween is Sunday and the Monday after is a holiday. Then I work Tuesday and Wednesday. And Thursday I'd normally work, however, the program requires some 3 hour mandatory group session, talk about logistics, our roles in the schools etc etc etc... Immediately after, John and I have a bus to catch to..... Calatayud! I left a bunch of stuff there over the summer instead of lugging it all home and back again, plus I really miss my homies and I get to visit my old school, show John small town Spain.
Pictures coming soon to my online Picasa album.
Ya'll having a nice week?
Hope your costumes are coming together nicely... Not sure where this years inspiration will come from but I could certainly revisit the past for ideas if need be.....!!!
24 October 2010
EXTRA BLACK
Today, my tea is blacker and stronger than usual. First of all, I've been laying in bed since I got home last night/this morning, slept for a few hours, 5 or maybe 6.. Then, with no desire to move, be active, be a real human, I've allowed myself to get sucked into catching up on TV shows, responding to emails, chatting with my girl in Kenya, etc etc etc... I don't feel "100%" today, so the tea is extra black. I'm laying here, with 50 windows and tabs open on my little netbook screen, researching the California state propositions for the elections coming up. For that reason too, my tea is extra black. My mom has my absentee ballot and she is going to fill it out and send it in, once I can finish sifting through all this mumble-jumble bull shit campaign crap. I spent my pre-adulthood with my parents reminding me that "voting is a privilege" you should always vote. I think one time Caleb didn't, and Kelly gave him that look, like the second-nature, much used mom/teacher scowl thing she can do (26 years experience in the classroom with little 'free year odes' which is written phonetically for emphasis) and from 18 I was a proud voting American ready to be a part of the change. I never really questioned it, I am a citizen, I vote. End of story. Well now I have a new opinion.
There are 9 propositions on the state ballot, all of them of course have an opposing and supporting party. That makes 18 different groups, more or less (some of the YES on NO on share funding... 25 and 26 for example). MOST groups have raised (through donations and loans) at least 10 million dollars for the CAMPAIGN! MARKETING! 10 million freaking dollars times 18 is a number I hope I never know. So all that money, somewhere above 100 mil, only passes a bill which "create more jobs" and "provide more money for education." What disgusts me the most is that one group in particular, the California's Teachers Association has donated WELL over 15 million to certain campaigns, 8 million dollars alone on Prop 24. So why then, are educators getting laid off so often and so many children share a classroom with 40 other students and so many more are without books...?
My head hurts and my tea is extra black today.
22 October 2010
BUTXACA
Just like the Paisanos in Tortilla Flat need a jug of wine and a solid group of friends to snuggle with and pass the cold nights, the modern times call for a bottle of something extremely red (a hint of burnt orange) with a serious sting.
The list of reasons why my parents rule is infinite; being cared for in every aspect of my life is one of the best feelings as an adventuring 23 year old that likes to pack everything in a couple bags and cross oceans for a bit. Home is hard to stuff in my back pocket, that's why there are other ways, especially when the spirit of my family is so full of strength and power, which is why I decided to steal their souls before I left. My family could get me through the hardest times, luckily for me the trials have been moderate or perhaps the force of their beings have lessened the intensity and assuaged the fears. Either way, I feel good, well loved and very well cared for. Even though my mother underestimated the time it'd take to finish the bottle of Tapatío that I actually did put in my back pocket before coming back to Spain, there would've been a new one in no time without having to ask. 9 month absences keep her from knowing my daily eating habits and food intake like she used to when she packed my lunch every day until I was 18, a senior in high school. See?
I had to chase down this mystery package all over the city because sometimes efficiency works in extremely different ways country to country. It's finally sitting on my bed next to me. Candies for my students, a new article of clothing, recuerdos de home and of course, the liter bottle of Tapatío. The shirt is adorable mom, the candle smells amazing and the candy corn will blow my students' minds but truthfully all I could think of on the walk home, and for the last week is.. I cannot eat potatoes, eggs, soup, sandwiches or burritos again until I have my precious Tapa. The last 10 days or so have been fresh food meals, a lot of fruit and veggies, snacks (but even then, dips weren't pleasing the palate quite right) and cereal have filled the void of that powerful sting.
I rip open the package, pull out the shirt, hold it up, love it. Open the cute little candle box from The Wooden Wagon Toys and Folk Art (a little bit of whimsy is always a must, I hope one day you all get a package from Kelly and Dave, trinkets and toys and things to keep you smiling until the next one) and then another box within a box. Taped, padded with bags full of air and tissue paper. Then inside the box, another air tight baggie with bubble wrap and the most special cargo of all. I waited to eat breakfast until 1 in the afternoon for this. I open it up, without scissors or a knife, put it directly to my mouth to bite off the plastic cover. All I want is that succulent goodness to do a little dance on my tongue.. The first place it goes? In my eye. Yes, I got Tapatío in my eye.
Gluttony.
Turns out, the cap broke a little somewhere on the boat or plane or truck or the fall from the mail man's hands to the sidewalk. And then savage me had to rip the seal off with my teeth. Lesson learned.. Thank you for all the dental and orthodontic work in my youth, mom and dad. I will not abuse it again.
The list of reasons why my parents rule is infinite; being cared for in every aspect of my life is one of the best feelings as an adventuring 23 year old that likes to pack everything in a couple bags and cross oceans for a bit. Home is hard to stuff in my back pocket, that's why there are other ways, especially when the spirit of my family is so full of strength and power, which is why I decided to steal their souls before I left. My family could get me through the hardest times, luckily for me the trials have been moderate or perhaps the force of their beings have lessened the intensity and assuaged the fears. Either way, I feel good, well loved and very well cared for. Even though my mother underestimated the time it'd take to finish the bottle of Tapatío that I actually did put in my back pocket before coming back to Spain, there would've been a new one in no time without having to ask. 9 month absences keep her from knowing my daily eating habits and food intake like she used to when she packed my lunch every day until I was 18, a senior in high school. See?
I had to chase down this mystery package all over the city because sometimes efficiency works in extremely different ways country to country. It's finally sitting on my bed next to me. Candies for my students, a new article of clothing, recuerdos de home and of course, the liter bottle of Tapatío. The shirt is adorable mom, the candle smells amazing and the candy corn will blow my students' minds but truthfully all I could think of on the walk home, and for the last week is.. I cannot eat potatoes, eggs, soup, sandwiches or burritos again until I have my precious Tapa. The last 10 days or so have been fresh food meals, a lot of fruit and veggies, snacks (but even then, dips weren't pleasing the palate quite right) and cereal have filled the void of that powerful sting.
I rip open the package, pull out the shirt, hold it up, love it. Open the cute little candle box from The Wooden Wagon Toys and Folk Art (a little bit of whimsy is always a must, I hope one day you all get a package from Kelly and Dave, trinkets and toys and things to keep you smiling until the next one) and then another box within a box. Taped, padded with bags full of air and tissue paper. Then inside the box, another air tight baggie with bubble wrap and the most special cargo of all. I waited to eat breakfast until 1 in the afternoon for this. I open it up, without scissors or a knife, put it directly to my mouth to bite off the plastic cover. All I want is that succulent goodness to do a little dance on my tongue.. The first place it goes? In my eye. Yes, I got Tapatío in my eye.
Gluttony.
Turns out, the cap broke a little somewhere on the boat or plane or truck or the fall from the mail man's hands to the sidewalk. And then savage me had to rip the seal off with my teeth. Lesson learned.. Thank you for all the dental and orthodontic work in my youth, mom and dad. I will not abuse it again.
¡Buen provecho ya'll!
17 October 2010
P3
The Pope
is coming to Barcelona. Ya, ok, big deal. Actually, it kind of is. WHY? <------ CLICK. Anyways, people are trippin'. There are ads all over the city, all over the internet to rent out balcony spaces.. the price: 500 minimum. And that is not in pesetas, puhleeeease €€€€€€€€€€
Patatas.
So the search continues for the best of the best of the best (vegetarian) Spanish dish there is. Patatas bravas, o sea, when translated into English as many bars and restaurants like to do, POTATOES with BRAVE sauce. Simple. Fried potatoes and a delicious sauce, extra spicy if they'll let you. Whenever I say I want the spiciest they can make it, they double check like 3 or 4 times. Spaniards do not eat spicy food, ketchup burns my friend Javi's mouth. Pobre.
Poop
is an important part of everyone's life. YUP. Have you ever tried to be very extra aware of the amount of fiber that you're ingesting every day? Well, to my surprise, I discovered some of the best foods are packed full of this magical component. Fiber comes from plants and make the world of a difference in one of our most crucial . . . daily human rituals. Because this ritual is so important, why not try and have the best experience ever? FIBER FIBER FIBER. Raspberries, apples, avocados and my favorite vegetable, broccoli. And spoil yourself every now then, sneak some fiber cookies in with tea time (dip them in nutella even!) or with your bowl of ice cream. Don't worry, tomorrow you'll thank me. But then the next day, and next and the next.. you'll be thanking the newest frequent visitor to your gastrointestinal tract.
is coming to Barcelona. Ya, ok, big deal. Actually, it kind of is. WHY? <------ CLICK. Anyways, people are trippin'. There are ads all over the city, all over the internet to rent out balcony spaces.. the price: 500 minimum. And that is not in pesetas, puhleeeease €€€€€€€€€€
Patatas.
So the search continues for the best of the best of the best (vegetarian) Spanish dish there is. Patatas bravas, o sea, when translated into English as many bars and restaurants like to do, POTATOES with BRAVE sauce. Simple. Fried potatoes and a delicious sauce, extra spicy if they'll let you. Whenever I say I want the spiciest they can make it, they double check like 3 or 4 times. Spaniards do not eat spicy food, ketchup burns my friend Javi's mouth. Pobre.
Poop
is an important part of everyone's life. YUP. Have you ever tried to be very extra aware of the amount of fiber that you're ingesting every day? Well, to my surprise, I discovered some of the best foods are packed full of this magical component. Fiber comes from plants and make the world of a difference in one of our most crucial . . . daily human rituals. Because this ritual is so important, why not try and have the best experience ever? FIBER FIBER FIBER. Raspberries, apples, avocados and my favorite vegetable, broccoli. And spoil yourself every now then, sneak some fiber cookies in with tea time (dip them in nutella even!) or with your bowl of ice cream. Don't worry, tomorrow you'll thank me. But then the next day, and next and the next.. you'll be thanking the newest frequent visitor to your gastrointestinal tract.
11 October 2010
LA VUELTA
Welcome back!
¡Bienvenidos!
¡BENVINGUTS!
Have you been to Barcelona before? If you answered 'NO' to this question, immediately begin searching for a flight to come visit. My obsession for Barna will not let you leave here second guessing that there is a greater city in the world. THIS city is the cheese! la leche!
Today marks the 19th day back in my city, la de mi corazón, and I am settled (very) comfortably in an apartment in the gayborhood, living with a bunch of loco Colombians (with a really cute 2 year old named Gerard) who eat liver, steak, potatoes and rice for every meal-every day, a decked out gypsy den and my über hippie roommate, a rooftop patio with views of the ocean, Plaza España, Montjuïc/Olympic stadium, Park Güell (Gaudi's housing development), Tibidabo (a tall mountain where the devil offered Jesus all the land if he fell down and began worshiping him) and of course the infamous penis building that lights up with a rainbow of colors at...night? Holidays?
Anyways, if you've noticed with my extremely obnoxious run-on sentence, I haven't been back to work for too many days. Classes started last week but I only went in to do paperwork and meet one of the classes (a bunch of 17/18 year olds, no surprise but they all look older than me) so more or less I'll be starting for real this week. But not today! Nor tomorrow! If I haven't talked your head off about how amazing Spain is and you don't already know the way schedules and things work in a country (this one in particular) founded and based on Catholicism (and actually, recently free from an awful dictatorship, they've only had 4 presidents in the new Democracy!) then let me just very quickly explain: SPANIARDS NEVER WORK! The bare minimum, of course, hay que sobrevivir. However, (not sure if you can begin a sentence with a conjunctive adverb) it is more common to have a long 3/4/5 day weekend then a regular 2 day weekend. For every city, every pueblo, every region, province, barrio... there exists a patron saint, something "sacred" to "honor"... I'm sure those of the more conservative and traditional, older generations still do so in a very Catholic manner. For the rest of us, it means, no school, no work, fiesta, fiesta, fiesta. The best part is.. most of these holidays fall on a Tuesday or Thursday, in which case, the day before or after (the Monday or Friday) also become part of the holiday (puente). Lucky for me, my work is education and we definitely receive most of the free days. (THIS IS ALL ON TOP OF THE FEW HOURS IN THE AFTERNOON SET ASIDE FOR SIESTA).
So, more to tell on the school front later. Though I must say, my colleagues are all really amazing, speak amazing English and are really enthusiastic for my role as American Cultural Ambassador to Catalonia (hahaha, yes, super legit!). Everyone outside of the department of English has also been really welcoming and the best part is, they all speak Catalan to me which I understand more or less, but I couldn't speak it to save my life, which is why.... I enrolled in a 6 hour a week Catalan class (¡GRATIS!) So excited to get my brain wheels moving again (in a classroom setting I mean, where I am the student), can't believe I'll be starting my 2nd romance language! Perhaps this will be a nice preparation for Portuguese, French or.........
Lastly, I just missed the summer season here, got maybe 3 or 4 days of it but I arrived the official day of fall and Barcelona was definitely ready for it. It's been muggy and cloudy the past couple weeks (some may think that it would be uninviting for tourists, but Barna is constantly flooded with visitors, which is why ya'll shouldn't shy away, everyone speaks English! And Spanish too! And Catalan, Italian, Portuguese, German, Mandarin, Hindi, Arabic, French...) with a few exceptions.. and as much as I want to fight it, I realize (because of my mom) that fall and winter aren't SO bad, especially being here, the mecca of Euro fashion.. BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS. Plus, it means I can comfortably eat soup for dinner every night =)
It's been a productive holiday weekend, with most of the legalities and visa stuff behind me, I have a membership to the public bike share system (Bicing), am struggling to keep our herb garden alive without too much sun, hosted my friend Alex for a day, continue to deck out our den with street treasures (more on that later) and we are temporarily winning the war against the cucarachas in these cursed old world constructed and very worn apartment bulidings...
With that, I leave you with a story titled, 'Reasons Why I Love Languages'.
On Saturday, Jean (aforementioned über hippie roommate.. we actually met here in Barcelona 3 years ago when we were studying abroad. He's from Los Angeles and graduated from UCSB. He won't be a stranger to this blog or this year) and I went to the grocery story to get a few things and we decided while we were there, it was probably best we purchased a bottle of cheap-ish whiskey should we have the hankering for a cocktail in the near future. The brand we decided on was DYC. Whiskey DYC. The liquor here is usually locked in a cabinet so we told the cashier, we'd like a bottle of whiskey please, the D-Y-C whiskey, spelling out the letters for her. Her response? For affirmation, she asks us: "Whiskey DYC?" (prounounced dick) Being the only English speakers in the supermarket, Jean and I start giggling because she has no idea what she just said. Now everyone is all curious as to what just happened in our exchange of words, so we go on to explain to not only the cashier, a Spanish woman in her early 40s but to 5-7 other Spaniards in line, the meaning of "Whiskey dick" in English. The end.
I've taken 1 photo since I've been here (Jean, friend Gabriel, some Spaniard who invited us to his wedding and I wearing animal hats) so for now, I leave you with a link to roommate Jean's photo album HERE
¡Bienvenidos!
¡BENVINGUTS!
Have you been to Barcelona before? If you answered 'NO' to this question, immediately begin searching for a flight to come visit. My obsession for Barna will not let you leave here second guessing that there is a greater city in the world. THIS city is the cheese! la leche!
Today marks the 19th day back in my city, la de mi corazón, and I am settled (very) comfortably in an apartment in the gayborhood, living with a bunch of loco Colombians (with a really cute 2 year old named Gerard) who eat liver, steak, potatoes and rice for every meal-every day, a decked out gypsy den and my über hippie roommate, a rooftop patio with views of the ocean, Plaza España, Montjuïc/Olympic stadium, Park Güell (Gaudi's housing development), Tibidabo (a tall mountain where the devil offered Jesus all the land if he fell down and began worshiping him) and of course the infamous penis building that lights up with a rainbow of colors at...night? Holidays?
Anyways, if you've noticed with my extremely obnoxious run-on sentence, I haven't been back to work for too many days. Classes started last week but I only went in to do paperwork and meet one of the classes (a bunch of 17/18 year olds, no surprise but they all look older than me) so more or less I'll be starting for real this week. But not today! Nor tomorrow! If I haven't talked your head off about how amazing Spain is and you don't already know the way schedules and things work in a country (this one in particular) founded and based on Catholicism (and actually, recently free from an awful dictatorship, they've only had 4 presidents in the new Democracy!) then let me just very quickly explain: SPANIARDS NEVER WORK! The bare minimum, of course, hay que sobrevivir. However, (not sure if you can begin a sentence with a conjunctive adverb) it is more common to have a long 3/4/5 day weekend then a regular 2 day weekend. For every city, every pueblo, every region, province, barrio... there exists a patron saint, something "sacred" to "honor"... I'm sure those of the more conservative and traditional, older generations still do so in a very Catholic manner. For the rest of us, it means, no school, no work, fiesta, fiesta, fiesta. The best part is.. most of these holidays fall on a Tuesday or Thursday, in which case, the day before or after (the Monday or Friday) also become part of the holiday (puente). Lucky for me, my work is education and we definitely receive most of the free days. (THIS IS ALL ON TOP OF THE FEW HOURS IN THE AFTERNOON SET ASIDE FOR SIESTA).
So, more to tell on the school front later. Though I must say, my colleagues are all really amazing, speak amazing English and are really enthusiastic for my role as American Cultural Ambassador to Catalonia (hahaha, yes, super legit!). Everyone outside of the department of English has also been really welcoming and the best part is, they all speak Catalan to me which I understand more or less, but I couldn't speak it to save my life, which is why.... I enrolled in a 6 hour a week Catalan class (¡GRATIS!) So excited to get my brain wheels moving again (in a classroom setting I mean, where I am the student), can't believe I'll be starting my 2nd romance language! Perhaps this will be a nice preparation for Portuguese, French or.........
Lastly, I just missed the summer season here, got maybe 3 or 4 days of it but I arrived the official day of fall and Barcelona was definitely ready for it. It's been muggy and cloudy the past couple weeks (some may think that it would be uninviting for tourists, but Barna is constantly flooded with visitors, which is why ya'll shouldn't shy away, everyone speaks English! And Spanish too! And Catalan, Italian, Portuguese, German, Mandarin, Hindi, Arabic, French...) with a few exceptions.. and as much as I want to fight it, I realize (because of my mom) that fall and winter aren't SO bad, especially being here, the mecca of Euro fashion.. BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS. Plus, it means I can comfortably eat soup for dinner every night =)
It's been a productive holiday weekend, with most of the legalities and visa stuff behind me, I have a membership to the public bike share system (Bicing), am struggling to keep our herb garden alive without too much sun, hosted my friend Alex for a day, continue to deck out our den with street treasures (more on that later) and we are temporarily winning the war against the cucarachas in these cursed old world constructed and very worn apartment bulidings...
With that, I leave you with a story titled, 'Reasons Why I Love Languages'.
On Saturday, Jean (aforementioned über hippie roommate.. we actually met here in Barcelona 3 years ago when we were studying abroad. He's from Los Angeles and graduated from UCSB. He won't be a stranger to this blog or this year) and I went to the grocery story to get a few things and we decided while we were there, it was probably best we purchased a bottle of cheap-ish whiskey should we have the hankering for a cocktail in the near future. The brand we decided on was DYC. Whiskey DYC. The liquor here is usually locked in a cabinet so we told the cashier, we'd like a bottle of whiskey please, the D-Y-C whiskey, spelling out the letters for her. Her response? For affirmation, she asks us: "Whiskey DYC?" (prounounced dick) Being the only English speakers in the supermarket, Jean and I start giggling because she has no idea what she just said. Now everyone is all curious as to what just happened in our exchange of words, so we go on to explain to not only the cashier, a Spanish woman in her early 40s but to 5-7 other Spaniards in line, the meaning of "Whiskey dick" in English. The end.
I've taken 1 photo since I've been here (Jean, friend Gabriel, some Spaniard who invited us to his wedding and I wearing animal hats) so for now, I leave you with a link to roommate Jean's photo album HERE
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