It's A Beautiful Day For A.....Huelga?

Today was a beautiful day in Toledo. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and it was sunny without being too hot. Perfect for sitting at a café and sipping on a tinto de verano during siesta break. Unfortunately, there was no sitting and sipping today, because almost every café in Toledo was closed. And the fish market. And the fruit stand where I've been buying naranjas rather frequently these days. And almost every other establishment in Toledo......and the rest of Spain as well. Today, 29 September 2010, was the Huelga General, a job strike throughout all of Spain.

Empty Zocodover, usually filled to the brim with hundreds of tables and tourists.

Last night I had to spend the night in the Fundación because all the bus drivers were going on strike. We had no way to get to school from Polígono this morning... and God forbid we miss a class! My host mom offered to drive me herself, but then we found out that the entrances into the city were going to be blocked by picketers. So all the residents of the Polygon (that's English for Polígono for those who can't make that connection) flocked to the Fund to set up camp for the night.

Apparently this morning there was a lot of commotion in La Plaza de Zocodover (main plaza in town), but I was stuck in class so unfortunately I missed it. By the time I got out of class to go take pictures of the action (yes, ok, I brought my camera...sorry I'm a nerd), all the protesters had cleared out and everything was just empty. Not gonna lie...I was kinda hoping for some riots. I was a little disappointed. From what I hear, the protests in Toledo were pretty tame. But in other parts of Spain it got violent! Police brutality against college protesters in Barcelona and Sevilla was mentioned a number of times.

Here is my basic understanding of the strike. We talked about it a lot today in my Econ class but the professor talks really fast (and he has braces and therefore a more exaggerated lisp) so I might have missed a few key points. But I think I got the main gist. There are two workers' organizations in Spain fighting for labor reform in regards to 1. contratos temporales (temporary job contracts) and 2. indemnización (severance pay for fired employees).

1. Most employees in Spain are hired on temporary contracts (as opposed to contratos fijos, or fixed contracts, meaning they can be fired any time. There is no security in these jobs because employees know that eventually the contract will run out...they just don't know when. The CCOO (Workers' Commission) and the UGT (General Workers' Union) are fighting to extend the temporary contracts into more permanent positions.
2. Until fairly recently, if a fixed contract employee was fired from a job, he or she was given 45 days of compensation for every year worked up to the time of termination. For example, if someone was fired from, say, Vodafone, after working there for 10 years, they would be given 450 days of full compensation. That's more than a year's worth of salary! The law was recently changed to lower the number from 45 to 33 days of compensation for every year worked. Workers are furious, but employers still aren't satisfied. Businesses are pushing for another change to make it 20 days of compensation instead of 33, but this change isn't likely. Honestly, either way, I am indifferent to this law. As far as I know, severance pay is not compulsory in the United States, and the amount of severance pay certainly is not regulated by federal law. Isn't it normal to give 1 or 2 months' pay to an employee being terminated? Enough to live on until they find a new job? 33 days for every year worked seems very excessive to me. Maybe I'm just too young and naive to see the benefits to this system. I've never had a full-time job so I'm sure my perspective is very different from the Spanish employees who think they're getting ripped off.
   

Both of my business class professors have said that this strike "no sirve para nada." It's not going to do any good, and no change will come from it. The laws have already been altered, and the government is not going to change them again. It seems to have been a pointless effort--a small, after-the-fact, last-ditch, gung-ho, giveittheoldcollegetry kind of thing. But I certainly have learned a lot about Spain today. Spain seems to be a bit....slow...when it comes to politics and governmental advancements. Maybe to make a difference in the laws the strike should have been planned for before the elections or before the laws were changed. The strike really isn't going to make much of a difference now. The only two things the huelga accomplished today were these:

1. Let us have a sleepover in the Fundación.
2. Make the streets smell with all the trash that wasn't picked up by the striking garbage collectors.

I'm Too Tall For Spain

Birthday Weekend was a rousing success! Thursday night (actual birthday night) began with a family dinner at home. All the aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents came over for dinner and cake. And I got two presents! A pair of earrings from my host mom and sister, and a scarf from tía Emma. Now I have to figure out how to express my gratitude in a thank you note...might be difficult.

Birthday dinner with host fam.

Of course family time was followed by the real celebration...a night out on the town in Toledo.

Is there any other way to celebrate turning 21?

After recovering on Friday morning, my art class went to Madrid to study the Greco and Velasquez paintings at the Prado. We have been studying El Greco in the last few weeks and are moving on to Velasquez soon so it was so cool to see up close the paintings we've only seen on a projector screen so far.

After the Prado, we hopped on a bus to Valencia. The four-ish-hour bus ride was a little rough, but we finally made it to the east coast around midnight and went straight to bed at the hostel. Good thing, though, because Saturday was jam-packed with a smorgasbord of activities! We walked from our hostel through the River Park to the Arts and Sciences Museum. Along the way we discovered what we thought was a lime tree. Turns out they were DIS.GUS.TING. Like, probably semi-poisonous disgusting.

Fresh fruit fail.

The museums were SO COOL. I felt like I was on another planet...definitely not in Kansas anymore. I couldn't decide which pictures to post, so decide for yourself which one is your favorite!

Another Valencian gem: the Gulliver park. We found this playground that was a GIANT Gulliver covered in slides and ropes and other playground-esque things. It was AWESOME. We were the oldest ones there, but whatever. Those kids can deal. We just wanted to slide down one time! Get over it.


After our educational/childlike morning, we went to the beach. It was very necessary. You can't go to a coastal town in Spain and NOT go to the beach. You just can't. We found a café along the beach where we ate Paella Valenciana and then hit the sand to tomar the sol and lounge around for the rest of the afternoon. I did get a little tostada, but....whatever. I'm in Spain. I'm allowed to get a little color. Just a tiny bit.

I absolutely love Valencia. It was a pretty big city, but it didn't have the hurried, bustling feel of Madrid. It was calmer, definitely más bonita, and more personable. If I had more weekends to travel I'd definitely go back!

Also, I have realized that I am too tall for Spain. Especially when I wear heels. Not cool.

Cumpleaños feliz...

...cumpleaños feliz! Te deseamos todos, cumpleaños feliz!

Señora C, aren't you proud that I remembered that??? In case you do not know what feliz cumpleaños means...........happy birthday to me! And to everyone else who was born on this glorious day in history. Especially William/Billy/Boy George/Ronnie Dunn, who is turning 24 which is not old. Today I am turning 21. Finally. Too bad it's totally not a big deal in Spain. In honor of my birthday Las Misses de España came to work and performed their awkward Miss Congeniality-esque dance in the plaza outside the Tourism office. I mean, they may or may not have been there only to practice for the Miss España Competition on Saturday, but still. Pretty darn special.

Plans for the rest of Birthday Weekend include a family dinner tonight complete with aunts, uncles and cousins, Madrid tomorrow to visit the Prado with my art class, and then VALENCIAAAAAA for the rest of the weekend. Birthday at the beach? Yes please.

As for tonight?

We rage.

Pobrecita Lola

I have created a spin-off list from TIHLALIS. It's called TIHLAL: Things I Have Learned About Lola. Despite what you may think, this list might actually be pretty long....

1. Lola loves my room. When there aren't any exchange students living my room, it belongs to her. Therefore, I think she feels like I'm intruding on her personal space. Whatever Lola, this room is MINE.

2. Lola really wants to go outside. She sits on all the window sills, staring longingly out at Polígono. We live on the 8th floor though, so hopefully she doesn't get too desperate.

3. Lola drinks mineral water. Apparently water from the grifo isn't good to drink, even for the cat. Raquel thinks this is ridiculous too. Pili compared the cat to the plant (which also gets mineral water) and Raquel asked her if she talks to the plant the way she talks to Lola. ¡Pues, por supuesto! ...obivously. As if there would be any other answer.

4. Lola has a ferret leash. And she HATES it. Pet stores don't sell cat leashes because cats are either house cats or street cats...they don't need to be walked. But Pili insisted that Lola needed a leash so she just got a ferret leash because I guess ferrets need to be walked so those things exist. She put it on Lola to show me tonight after dinner. It took about 10 minutes because Lola kept squirming out of her arms. Then once it was finally on Pili tried to walk her around the apartment. Lola refused. She laid down on the ground and curled into a ball. Then Pili tried to pull her along to make her walk, but instead Lola just stretched out into a long black rug, trying to escape the ferret leash. But it's one of those leashes that has one collar for the neck, another for the torso, and another piece to connect the two. Lola was not going to escape from that thing. When she was finally liberated again, she ran into my room. Typical.

Highlights and Lowlights

Highlights of today:

1. Las Misses de España came into the Tourism Office today! Las Misses are the Miss [insert American state here]s of Spain. I mean, they only came in to use the bathroom to freshen up after their photo shoot in the plaza, but still. They're, like, totally, like, famous. And also incredibly gorgeous. Kind of intimidating since I had rain hair and wet shoes. I forgot my umbrella today.
2. Also visiting the office was group of.....Notre Dame Alums!!! One man was wearing an ND hat so obviously we had to have a serious chat. We discussed football and dorm rooms and South Dining Hall for a solid 15 minutes before I got around to giving them their map and directing them to the nearest restaurant--even though it was only noon and here in Spain we eat lunch at 3. Those crazy Americans...eating so darn early in the day....
3. AMAZING SPAGHETTI FOR DINNER. Sorry, Mom. I have to admit it was kind of a little teensy bit better than yours. I'll get the recipe for you.
   

Lowlights:

1. It rained.
2. I'm getting a cold. Possibly related to Lowlight #1...maybe not. It's bearable right now, but if my nose doesn't clear up by Thursday (aka the beginning of BIRTHDAY WEEKEND), I will not be a happy camper.
3. Host sis Raquel and her boyfriend broke up. She has (understandably) been moping around the house for the last two days. It's awkward because the only potentially comforting words I know in Spanish are "que triste" and I don't think she wants to hear from me "how sad" her situation is.
   
4. There is cat hair on my bed. I accidentally left my door open again and when I turned on the light when I got home Lola ran out. Great.

TIHLALIS #10-14

10. No dryers = crispy clothes. I guess we are conserving water AND energy here in Spain. I can deal though. I'm just not a huge fan of hard, scratchy towels when I'm used to warm, fuzzy, mountain-river-scented, fresh-out-of-the-dryer blankets of goodness.

11. As much as I try to pretend I'm not American, everyone knows. I don't know how they know (perhaps my red hair is a dead giveaway?), but they just know.

12. Toothbrushes are sold in packages of 3. However, if you go to a chino (see TIHLALIS #13) and you only want to buy one toothbrush, they will open the package and sell you only one toothbrush. But then you have to walk around everywhere carrying only one toothbrush and you will get questioning looks from all the passersby.

13. Chinos. Convenience stores (conveniently open for 24 hours) located on almost every street. Primarily run by Chinese people, hence the name "chino." A bit racist, don't you think?

14. Constipado means "congested," not "constipated." Who would've thought?? I've been sniffling a lot today and when my host mom asked me if I was constipada I was quick to assure her that I wasn't. I finally figured it out when she asked me again and pointed to her nose. Sign language is key in this household.

Patience, Grasshoppers...

Ok everyone, enough already with the pestering about lack of blog posts! I'VE BEEN BUSY OK?? I haven't forgotten about you loyal readers...I've just been waiting to post only the best stories about life in Spain. I don't want to bore you with mundane tales--only the good ones.

Classes and work are in full swing now. I love my internship. So many interesting people come in to the tourism office and usually I am able to help them, which is really thrilling. Sometimes though, when I can't understand them, I just defer to one of my native Spaniard colleagues for the answer...or I just nod, say sí, and hand them a map. My favorite part is when people come in looking very lost, come over to me and ask, "Do you speak any English at all??" It's all I can do to keep from jumping up and saying "YES!!!!! I DO speak English! Sometimes I pretend I speak Spanish...but it's terrible anyway so it doesn't really count!" My relaxation upon relapse to English is probably extremely obvious, but those Brits and Aussies are the most well-directed tourists to pass through Toledo since language barriers were invented. Some of them even got a free poster, just for making my job easier.

Since we had a full week of classes last week, the only way to relieve the stress of 4 classes and a job was to go to Madrid for the weekend. Obviously. We took a free bus with people from the Fund and had a touristy Friday, complete with a panoramic bus tour...a rather painful experience due to my extreme aversion to being labeled as an American tourist. I'd say it's a phobia, of sorts. I hate to travel in groups larger than...6 or so, and prominent American labels (North Face, for one) are totally taboo. Of course we would be with a group of 100 people, led by a guide with a neon vest. Perfect. The tour finally ended with all 100 of us filing into the Museo de Jamón, past all of the regular patrons, to our specially reserved room in the -2 floor (aka the basement) because that's the only place we could all fit. We might as well have paraded in waving an American flag and singing the National Anthem. One good part of lunch though was that The Bacon Wallet was able to return home to its bacon roots. It was an utterly meaningful experience.


The rest of the weekend was filled with shoe shopping (there is literally a zapatería every other store in El Centro of Madrid), fiesta-ing, meeting interesting people, and eating lots and lots. Some photo highlights.....

The Bacon Wallet in its first hostel room.

From left to right: Caitlin, The Bacon Wallet, Elizabeth and Courtney in La Puerta del Sol, in the exact center of Spain.

This superstar claimed to be 19 when he tried to talk to us in La Puerta del Sol Friday night. We knew he was actually 15 (maybe), but when he revealed his Pau Gasol Grizzlies jersey, I had to be nice.

All in all, the excursion to Madrid was a success. But I must admit, it's nice to be back in the small town of Toledo. At the beginning of the semester, I wondered why Notre Dame sent us to Toledo instead of Madrid, but it became very clear that it is a LOT easier to get by with no Spanish in Madrid than it would be in Toledo. Everyone knew we were American (despite my efforts to disguise my nationality) and they always talked to us in English. I know for a fact that it would be way too easy to fall back on the crutch of familiarity and speak English all the time if I were in Madrid. Since hardly anyone in Toledo knows enough English to engage in a full conversation, it's 100% Spanish--all day every day.

Also, I came home the most adorable kids ever playing Wii in our house (Javier's niece and nephew). My Spanish is about on the same level as theirs, so it was fun to talk to them. When I asked the boy, "Cuantos años tienes?" he held up two fingers and the girl called out "Yo cinco." That's the kind of Spanish I can understand. KISS--Keep It Simple, Stupid. Also when I went into my room I found clean laundry, in a pile, folded on top of my freshly washed sheets. Score. Welcome home.



P.S. My Spanish is actually sliiiiightly better than I let on. I can converse. I can understand. I know more words than Javier's two-year-old nephew. Just in case anyone was fooled by my witty jokes and thought that I was seriously floundering over here.

Love of Family Is Universal

Today my host sister, Raquel, turned 21 and we had a dinner fiesta for her. The entire family came over--aunts, uncles, cousins, abuelos. Apparently dos besos are the standard greeting for everyone...not just the new host mom. I've never been kissed by so many strangers in my life! We were almost 20 in total. We all sat in the living room and chatted for hours over tapas about the cat who knows when Pili is feeling sick, how prima Marta should get her hair cut, and how awful the bus system is for students getting to school in the morning. If I wasn't feeling at home with this family before, I certainly am now. When the camera was brought out, they insisted that I be in the pictures, although I offered to take them. I was honored to be welcomed so warmly into this family and it was reassuring and comforting to find out that families in Spain are just like mine...loud and a little weird, but also inviting, friendly and loving. España is definitely starting to feel like home.

On a totally unrelated note, I have been keeping a list called "Things I Have Learned About Life In Spain" which will hereafter be known as TIHLALIS. Soooooo...

TIHLALIS #1-9:

1. Spaniards LOVE TV. It seriously is always on. Even during dinner! When we eat we sit on the couch at the coffee table, all facing the TV. And it's not even good TV. It's like random old American movies and The Simpsons dubbed over in Spanish.

2. Lombardi time does not exist in Spain. Everyone is late.

3. The bus system is not reliable. It's always late, if it comes at all.

4. Sleeping and resting on the weekends is encouraged, not frowned upon.

5. You don't say hola when you answer the phone. You say sí or díme...which means "talk to me."

6. No one drinks water! I know we are trying to conserve water here which is why I have shortened my shower by a solid three minutes, but really? I can't drink it either? I felt awkward at first asking for water at home so the first two nights I just took large gulps of it from the sink whenever I brushed my teeth.

7. No one smiles in pictures. Probably because of crooked teeth due to universal healthcare...

8. School supplies are entirely too expensive (2 euro for a pack of notebook paper?) but textbooks are dirt cheap. Books for two classes so far have only cost me 12 euro.

9. Love of family is universal.

Also I bought some killer shoes today for only 7 euro. Holler. Sorry if that ruins the sappy mood.

Adventure #1 of The Bacon Wallet

I can't believe I forgot this!!! The Bacon Wallet attended La Noche En Blanco as well. You can see The Bacon Wallet enjoying some tapas at one of the bars we crawled to...

Inaugural Weekend: Extreme Fail, Extreme Win

Whirlwind is the only word to describe the primera fin de semana in Spain. There were definitely some low points, but no worries because those were canceled out by the stellar high points the next night. Sooooo, here we go.......

Friday. Big plans for our first night of discotecas. We wanted to go to Buena Vista, a suburb of Toledo, where they have a botellón (pre-discoteca party in the parking lot) and three outdoor clubs that play different kinds of music--reggaeton, American pop, and something else. I'm not exactly sure what that something else is because we never actually made it there. I was with a group of 3 other people and we were going to take the Buho (owl) Bus to the bridge where the clubs were. We had to take the buho because that's the nighttime bus and obviously we couldn't be lame-os and arrive super early or that would have been totally uncool. After we got off at the wrong bus stop and walked around every inch of Buena Vista looking for the puente, we finally found the botellón.

However, surprise, it was BYOB, and we didn't bring any B. We couldn't buy any B either, because the nearest gas station doesn't sell B after 10pm. Lame. So we just decided to nix the clubs and go home because we didn't want to pay for cabs and the buses stopped running at 3. So we walked. We walked all the way back to the bus stop where we got off because we knew FOR SURE that the bus would stop there. After waiting for half an hour, the buho finally pulled into sight. And then kept driving right past us. The driver and I had a Mexican standoff of sorts, exchanging a knowing glance as he drove by. I thought the knowing glance was his way of saying "I know you're tired, but don't worry. I'm coming back for you." But after 30 more minutes of waiting we figured that he really meant, "Ha ha, you foolish Americans. I'm not coming back for you...EVER!!!" So we paid for a cab. Not just back to Toledo...all the way to Polígono. Fail.

But fret not! Saturday night more than made up for Friday night's lack of festivities.

Setting: Madrid. Event: La Noche En Blanco.
My host mom told me about La Noche En Blanco and said that I should go with my friends. She suggested we take the train from Toledo to Madrid and then just take it back in the morning after we were done raging. ...my HOST MOM told me that! Granted, she didn't use the word "raging," but it was certainly implied that raging would occur.

We got to Madrid around 8:30, and began our self-guided tapas crawl. We crawled all over La Puerta del Sol, the plaza in the exact center of Spain. We crawled a long time, just enjoying tapas and sangria and people-watching until the real excitement began. La Noche En Blanco means "The Night In White" and all the major museums and exhibits are open all night. And they're free! The streets are blocked off and there are different activities in various plazas around the centro. Our event of choice was a GIIIIIANT game of Twister in the Plaza de Colón. Playing Twister outside in Madrid at 2am with 150 people is one of the most magical things you could do. And by magical I really mean confusing and hilarious. The DJ calling out the right and left hands and feet was speaking in Spanish (obviously) and he was talking so loud and so fast and there was music everywhere and people talking and yelling so all we could hear was the occasional izquierda and derecha...pie and mano and the colores were harder to distinguish from all the other noises. So naturally, chaos ensued. People were falling everywhere, and no one was doing it right. Clearly a game of Twister with 150 people would be entirely too hard to regulate, so everyone was a winner.


After some exhilirating Twisting, we moved on to the discotecas where we danced the rest of the night (more like morning...) away. When they kicked us out at 6 am we miraculously made our way to a cafe for a hearty breakfast of espresso and churros. We struggled/sleepwalked back to the station to catch the train to Toledo and finally fell into bed at home sweet home at 10 am. Luckily, sleeping in on the weekends is strongly encouraged in Spain, so napping until 4 was no problemo. I know they say that New York is the city that never sleeps, but I have to disagree. It's definitely Madrid.

I Almost Just Killed Lola

Two posts in one day...is that lame? Whatever. I forgot to write about mis clases! After about 30 seconds of planning and 30 hours of pre-planning stressing, I have my horario.

• Spanish for the Professional Life, aka spanish edumacation for biznazz lingo.

• Master Painters of Spain, aka visiting art museums and "analyzing" the paintings.

• Spanish Philosophy, aka an inevitable snoozer, but what can you do? It's a Notre Dame requisito.

• Economics of Spain and the EU. I have nothing clever to write about this class because I haven't been to it yet.

• Internship at the Toledo Office of Tourism, aka A REAL LIVE JOB IN SPAIN WHERE I HAVE TO GIVE INFORMATION TO REAL LIVE TOURISTS FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD. .....not like I'm worried about it though...

I start my trabajo tomorrow! I work Monday and Thursday mornings, from 10 am to 2 pm. Let's hope I don't get fired the first day. Or any day, for that matter.

Also, I almost just allowed the cat to commit suicide. I came into my room to charge my computer and found Lola perched on the edge of my open 8th floor ventana, ready to launch herself off to a very premature death. I coaxed her back to safety though by luring her in with my phone charger...sucker.

Sé hablar español...¡lo prometo!

Well, I moved in with the fam yesterday. It's going..........well. I guess. I was so tired after a long day of placement tests and interviews at the Fund and exploring Toledo that when Pili, her bf Javier and I finally got home to eat dinner w ith Raquel at 10 pm, I just couldn't handle any more español in one day! I know it's supposed to be all Spanish all the time, but my brain is hurting and it wears me out! So I probably looked like a complete moron to them. I can speak Spanish confidently around people I am comfortable with and who I know pretty well. But complete strangers make me self-conscious of my feeble attempts so that PLUS the extreme mental fatigue PLUS some straggling jetlag left me scrambling to come up with the simplest of words. I forgot the word vengo. That's like one of the first words you learn in Spanish 1. It means I come/am coming. The point is...there's a school for mentally challenged children down the street from our casa. La familia Rodriguez Garcia might have me transferred there if I don't step up my game. However, I finally unpacked and found my handy dandy pocket dictionary so I plan to wow them at dinner tonight with some vast improvements.

On a happier note, my house is adorable! I fully expected it to be dark and old, with a whole leg of jamón on the counter (I witnessed this--aka found it from facebook creeping--in a photo album of someone I know who spent last summer here in Toledo). But it's not old and dark and hammy at all! The apartment is very modern and Pili and Raquel made it really colorful and bright. It's SUCH a girls' house...Pili said my entire room came from IKEA.

I didn't think it would be appropriate to creep around and take pictures of my family and of the entire apartment on my first night here. Luckily though, when I came home from school today I had the place to myself for a while! So obviously I took advantage of the solitude to document my surroundings. Isn't it just PRECIOSA??!

Our Journey Began With A Prayer

HA. Only if prayer equals severe racial profiling on the part of my mother. No worries though, the first plane made it safely to Chicago. On the flight to Madrid there was some minor turbulence, but of course that was due to some cloud cover over the Atlantic...not the suspicious back row occupants. Parting with the fam was a tad bit sad, but it was definitely time for me to leave. I'm pretty sure they would be kicking me out of the house right now if I hadn't already been running away myself.

Highlight of the journey (not really a highlight...which is a testament to the extreme longevity of this day):
I was peacefully dozing in and out in my window seat with my horseshoe pillow around my neck when all of a sudden I felt something grab my foot and lift it up! I was so confused and then I felt my other foot being poked and prodded under the chair in front of me. I jerked my feet back into my area (I may or may not have been encroaching on the area of the person in front of me) and looked up to see what exactly was going on. Apparently this small child sitting in front of me had dropped something under his chair, was searching for it in the dark, and mistakenly grabbed my feet instead of his misplaced object. He was so embarrassed. Poor kid.

After a long and lullaby-esque bus ride from Madrid to Toledo, I finally got to meet my host mom, Pili (short for Pilar). The presentation of the students to their host families is probably the most awkward thing I've ever witnessed. We were stacked all the way up a staircase and the families were waiting in a crowd in the lobby. Someone called our name and we had to squirm our way to the bottom of the stairs, where the host family was eagerly waiting to give us dos besos (one kiss on each cheek) when we emerged.

So Pili and I dos besos-ed and then she just went off in her rapid-fire Spanish about how she was so excited to have me (I think that's what she said?) and she can't wait for me to meet her daughter, Raquel, who is exactly my age! I just kind of sat there and interjected some sís and ahhhh qué biens into her chattering. It was kind of uncomfortable not being able to communicate as well as I would have liked to, but she was understanding. But THEN, Raquel called her mom on her cell phone and they were just chitchatting away so I zoned out until I looked down and saw, right in front of my face, Pili's cell phone in her outstretched arm. Um, sorry, I am NOT ready to converse on the telephone yet. But I couldn't say no to Pili's encouraging smile so I braced myself for more inevitable awkwardness. A few sís, "un poco cansada"s, and "uhh adios?"s later, the milestone of first phone convo was finally over. Moving ON.

We move in with our host families tomorrow. Right now my suitcases have somehow exploded and everything is everywhere inside my tiny dorm room at the Fundación. Hopefully they will repack themselves in the morning. Tonight we have an ice breaker party with all the kids staying at the Fund, but after not having slept for I don't even know how many hours, I don't know if I'll be able to stay awake!

For Better? Probably For Worse...

Did you know that the most frequently read section of the newspaper is the comic section? I bet you didn't. Embarrassingly enough, there was a short phase during my life when I was THAT girl...Comic Section Girl. I don't really know why I searched for those joyous rows of genuine hilarity every morning. I just did. Anyway, there is one that I found once and I will never forget it. It came from "For Better or For Worse," and the daughter is about to leave to go on vacation. The mother comes into the bedroom to check on the packing progress only to find a still-empty suitcase on the bed. The next square shows a tornado of arms, legs and chaos as the mother, in a frenzied panic, begins to throw everything in sight into the suitcase, shocked and horrified at her daughter's lack of preparedness. I imagine that this exact scene will be reenacted in my bedroom in a few days, since this is what my suitcases currently look like:




Making four months weigh less than 88 pounds will be an ambitious endeavor...wish me suerte.