Delayed Thoughts from March

I wrote this post over a month ago and for whatever reason, it never got posted.  I'd rather it not just go to waste, so I am posting it now :)

Since Mondays are basically the only day of the week that I have any free time after 3pm, I had a long list of things that I wanted to get done.  FINALLY I got my paycheck from work (since my boss had been in the hospital for 15 previous days with no one having a clue how to run/manage her business) so I quickly went to pick that up and decided to head to Festival to get a few groceries for the next 2 weeks before Spring Break.  There is a stoplight near Festival where quite often I have seen a man who holds cardboard signs saying things like "Cold, could use extra sleeping bag" or "Need work", or something like this.  I am not for certain if he is completely homeless, but my gut tells me so.  Yesterday I saw him with a sign that said several things, but the only thing that I could read said "Hungry".  I wondered how many people were driving past trying to avoid looking at him or simply pretending he wasn't there.  So I decided that I would pick some things up while I was getting my few groceries and give him a small meal on my way back home. 

Originally I thought I would just buy some kind of pre-made deli sandwich, but then once I was in the store I got way more into this good deed of the day than I had previously planned.  Festival has a really nice deli and a sort of "buffet" section with hot meals and soups that you can put in to-go boxes and pay for at the checkout.  So I start looking through the options and began critically thinking about what would be the best types of food to eat without a table or easiest with just plastic silverware.  I mounded up a huge section of mac & cheese with ham and three chicken strips.  On my way to the silverware I saw peanut butter and chocolate rice krispie treats, so I grabbed one of those, too.  At the checkout, I bought a bottled water and an extra apple.  I put it all together in its own bag separate from the other stuff I bought.  I got in my car and headed back towards the stoplight.  As I got closer I saw the light turn red and I quickly unbuckled so that I could do a fast "Chinese Fire Drill" type action once I got up there.  I saw a guy standing at the light, but when I got there it wasn't the same guy, just some pedestrian waiting to cross the street.   I thought "Dang it! He couldn't have gone far!" I mean, he had a whole bundle of things with him like sleeping bags and his cardboard signs and I'm sure some backpack or something so I started looking down the streets to the left and the right, but he was no where to be seen.  For a minute, I considered driving around the blocks until I found him, but then I looked at my already empty gas tank, thought about the rest of the things that I had to get done in just a few hours, and reluctantly decided that the moment had passed.  I am a terrible human who bailed on following through with a good deed.

Thinking about it now, I wish I would have just done a quick loop around a couple blocks to find him, but it is just so easy to let these kinds of things affect us for just a moment before we turn back to focusing on our own lives and personal dilemmas.  A lot of people use the phrase "Well, it's the thought that counts" which could easily apply to this situation. Why do we even say that?  It's not because we actually believe the thought really counts.  It's to make ourselves feel less selfish or guilty when we didn't follow through with something.  The only things that really count are the actions you do that have real, positive change or effect on others and the world.

Girl Scouts are like, totally radical, dude.

Well, apparently it's a lot harder to keep up on this thing than I thought!  But the strangest part is that I have had so many ideas running through my brain about what I want to write about, I found myself avoiding this thing all week long just because I didn't want to have to start sorting through them all and making a decision on where to start.  I actually found myself having a hard time falling asleep last week because I was laying in my bed counting Blog Titles instead of sheep...



I don't know how many people reading this were ever in the Boy or Girl Scouts, but growing up, being part of the Girl Scouts was actually a huge part of my life from about age 6 until 13.   Maybe it was the fact that the older you got, the more colorful and "cool" your vest had the potential of becoming, or the fact that I had a never-ending rivalry with another girl in my troop and I just HAD to have more badges than her......oooor maybe it was just those damn cookies...but it was a pretty big deal. 


The reason this has been on my mind is that I recently had to write a reference for a friend who was applying to be a camp counselor at a GS camp near the D.C. area.  It brought back so many memories of all my summers at Camp Ehawee, and I started to feel nostalgic.  I think I almost convinced myself I was writing the reference from a tent in Sacagewea during "Me Time".  And then this morning, I saw this article from Addictinginfo.org:


http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/02/22/indiana-republican-rep-says-girl-scouts-are-bent-on-communism-lesbianism-and-destroying-america/


The headline reads:

Indiana Republican Rep Says Girl Scouts Are ‘Bent On Communism, Lesbianism And Destroying America’

I think I have finally figured out what it is about these kinds of Republicans: They spend so much time blaming the "destruction of America" on the LGBTQ community, "socialists" & "communists", Obama, and Planned Parenthood not because they actually believe any of this, but because they want to make as many distractions as they can before people start to say "Hey.. wait...a...minute....YOU'RE DESTROYING AMERICA!"
Whoa, sorry. I did not want this to become a political rant because I really do enough of that on my Facebook page, but this article infuriated me.  Really hate to burst this guy's white, elitist and heterosexual bubble, but I don't have a single memory from my 8 summers at camp involving the development of communist ideals, activities trying to convince me I liked the other girls in my camp session romantically, or anything having to do with changing my religious beliefs (in the article, he makes an argument that only 3 of the 50 Girl Scout role models have Christian backgrounds...therefore implying that they are the only true role models).  I can tell you what I did get out of those summers:

Leadership skills
People skills
Communication skills
Development of my hobbies and interests
Survival skills
Sunburns and embarrassing tan lines from wearing socks with sandals
Physical (not emotional) scars

Friendships - In fact, I met one of my best friends from middle school at camp when we did a Biking session at the same time.  Later, I moved to her hometown and she was one of the only people I knew, which when you are entering the 6th grade can be a huge relief since I think I speak for all of us when I say middle school is a bitch - especially for girls....(because we're bitchy). Here we are :)

I remember, Kye, the counselor who carried me from the pool house to the nurse's office when I stepped on an earring that got lodged into the heel of my foot.

I remember that Mork was always there summer after summer keeping everything running like clockwork.
I remember Thudd, the canoe guy and one of the only male counselors and how all of us girls would swoon whenever he came into the mess hall-- yep, whole lot of lesbianism going on there.

My favorite counselor was Goldie, and I remember that she was from Cashton.
I learned how to make pudgie pies and banana boats, and I learned the difference between wood ticks and deer ticks.

I remember that while I got along with almost everyone, there were a handful of crazy girls at camp too, and I'm certain it had nothing to do with their sexual orientation or political ideologies.  I went on a Houseboating session my last summer at camp and that was when I first learned that people will make up a lot of stories about themselves when they are starving for attention.  Another summer, there was a girl that needed some serious mental health evaluations who tried hitting another girl in the back of the head with a flashlight.  Later in the week, she also ran around swinging a broom at the rest of us.  Like I said -- there was some cause for concern.

Girl Scouts most definitely made me become a different kind of person than I would have been had I never participated, but contrary to this Indiana senator's skewed and bigoted belief, by no means did it form my sexual identity or convince me that communism is great.  Like all other human beings, I didn't choose to be straight and there's no way that singing camp songs or learning how to canoe was an attempt to brainwash me into believing that capitalism is evil and societies should be classless.
Now that I think about it, Republicans do a good enough job convincing me of that on their own.

The 2012 Intro

Quite a handful of people out there are legitimately concerned that the world will end in 2012.  I figure then I have no time to waste but to start sharing all the gems in this brain of mine before we are all obliterated.  I have less than a year to become a blogging sensation!

Seriously people, the world is not going to end in 2012.  The Mayans were pretty genius when it came to their mathematical and astrological advances, but they probably were in the middle of building the next calendar when Spanish conquistadors showed up.  Let's just say, they had bigger problems.  What really prompted me to revamp my blog was the fact that I used to write a lot.  I have a plethora of Facebook notes where I shared silly and embarrassing things that happened to me with my FB community.  I haven't written one in a very long time (not because embarrassing things don't happen to me anymore, but mostly because they are now almost all related to the influence of alcohol and even I'm too embarrassed to shamelessly embarrass myself).  My FB notes page has accumulated webs of Charlotte size proportions.  But when I traveled, it seemed I always had a will to write and a story to tell.  My everyday life isn't anything special, but as I get closer to the end of my college career, I begin to fear the juices in the creation side of my brain are going to start running dry if I don't keep them to good use.  My goal is NOT to make this my public "Dear Diary" because that is just....well to put it simply - Awful.  Dreadful, in fact.  No one wants to read that.  I don't even want to read that.....
"Dear Diary, today I woke up to the soft clanging of a silver spoon against a porcelain bowl.  I could only assume it was the early morning ritual of Rachel Perry, quietly consuming the luck of the Irish, (or Lucky Charm's in layman's terms) before she embarked on her day.  I forced myself back into a slumber, desperately wishing to return to my dreams of human-size penguins and talking dolphins....."

Yeah, no.

Anyway, my point is that I'd just like to get in touch with my thoughts again.  And there is some kind of shameless satisfaction in sharing them with other people.  If you choose to follow my ramblings, may the force be with you. :)

A Series of Unfortunate Events

It seems that my bad luck in board and card games against Patricia followed me on my travels outside of Spain and manifested itself into other small, unlucky, and slightly hilarious events.

First of all, I almost broke the small bath tub in my friend's apartment.  The bathroom is teeny tiny.  Imagine the smallest closet in your house and then imagine it with a toilet, a washing machine, and a bathtub.  There's no sink, so I was brushing my teeth over the tub when I leaned a little too hard on the edge (apparently) and the entire thing flipped on its side in this tiny little room.  I fell along with it and ended up inside of it on the floor.  I thought for sure I had just broken the damn thing and I sat there for a good 30 seconds contemplating all the options, but mostly just shocked at the situation.  When I heard Sash come out of her room (after hearing the loud crash) I got up and opened the door.  The look on her face didn't ease my nerves about probably having to find some store and buy a new bathtub.  She said "Quick shut the door so my grandma doesn't see!"  She lives with her grandmother who is a bit nervous, but luckily also forgetful, because after we managed to flip the tub right side up and make sure nothing was damaged, she had already forgotten that she heard the noise as well.

Then on my 3rd day, I woke up with a bit of an annoying scratchy throat which in 24 hours had turned into an impossible-to-swallow-without-flinching sore throat.  I had my first foreign doctor experience to get some antibiotics so that I could get better and not be laying in bed the entire trip.  I went into the office, she looked at my throat, pushed on my jaw so hard that I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head.  Then said I had swollen tonsils (thanks PhD..) and an ear infection.  So I started some amoxcicillin and a week later finally felt better.

On Thursday night, Sash and I came home from her boyfriend's house tired and ready to pack our bags for the weekend trip to the lake when I opened the door to her room and noticed little black pieces of...something...all over my suitcases and the floor.  When she came in the room I pointed it out to her and she, again, made a face that did not tell me this was something she had seen before and said "Oh my gosh we have a rat."  But the amount of stuff on the floor, TV, computer, and shelves suggested that it wasn't A rat, but a family of rats.  I thought "Oh my God is it in my suitcase?? Am I going to have to claim 'mysterious Macedonian rat' when I go through US Customs?!"  Then we looked up at the wall and saw where there had been a white cover there was a hole.  No, it was not rat shit on the floor, but soot.  It had been really windy that night and apparently a gust came down through the chimney and blew the cover off the wall and left black soot covering the room.  So we cleaned the room bottom to top and then finally packed for the weekend.

And then the cherry on top, our first day at the beach in Ohrid on Friday, it rained.  It hadn't rained there in weeks.  But the rest of the weekend was beautiful and we were able to go to the beach, see some of the city, and relax under the sun.

Tomorrow morning I am off to Sofia, Bulgaria to spend the last 5 days with my friend Dessi, who was in my international student orientation group last Fall, and also with my friend Danail who I worked with in Wisconsin Dells.  Then it's HOME HOME HOME and I can't wait to see my family and friends and the last few weeks of some Wisconsin summer sun.

A few pictures:

 Statue of Aristotle in Thessaloniki, Greece

 Mountain overlooking Skopje, Macedonia

 Matka, Macedonia. Absolutely gooorgeous!

Enormous lake in Ohrid, Macedonia

So Long and On To The Next One

Writing to you from a small apartment in Skopje, Macedonia!  I officially left Spain Thursday afternoon.  I don't know how I did it, but I managed to fit all of my stuff plus what I bought while I was there in one large and one small suitcase.  I feel pretty proud of that accomplishment.  We'll see how I do on August 15. 
My last weeks in Spain felt like ages since I was definitely ready to move on.  The English classes got lazier as the month went on and my last week there they were almost non-existent.  My family planned a nice dinner party with the neighbors and some friends on my last night which was a really nice way to go out.  The highlight of the night was a quote from one of their friends, Lola, who was in love with my hair. 
"What is this called that I'm doing...planching?"
"No, braiding.."
"Ahh! Raping! I'm raping your hair!"
I was laughing so hysterically that it took me a minute or so to contain myself so that I could explain to her what she had said. 
Thursday morning, I woke up early unable to sleep and finished packing.  Before I walked out the door, I went into Patricia's room to say goodbye to her since she was still in bed.  I waved and said "I'm leaving!" and went to shake her hand.  She grabbed my hand and when I tried to walk away she wouldn't let go.  I felt for the first time like maybe I really did connect with her and that maybe she really did like me!  I decided to think of it that way instead of looking at it as she probably just wanted me to help pull her up out of bed since she had a tendency of doing that.

I arrived in Thessaloniki, Greece just after 7:30 and found my friend Aleksandra happily waiting for me.  Her boyfriend, his brother, and the 2 of us went back over the border of Greece into Macedonia to stay the night at her boyfriend's family's small summer house, then yesterday we went back to Thessaloniki to spend the day.  I suppose when people hear you say "I'm going to Greece!" they imagine you walking along the beach all day long and taking pictures of houses built alongside the sea.  But Thessaloniki doesn't really look that way.  It is along the sea, but the beach was pretty far away and the houses are farther inland.  We spent the day walking around the city and going in shops.  It was a good taste of Greece for the first time and now I am definitely looking forward to the day when I can go back to see Athens and other typical Grecian cities. 
From Thessaloniki, we drove back to Skopje, Macedonia which is where Aleks is from.  She lives in a small apartment with her brother and grandma who does not speak any English.  I finally feel like I am experiencing something new since Spain didn't feel much different, at least not where I was living, and I was able to communicate in either Spanish or English with almost everyone I met.  I've been told that the whole apartment building will be talking about the fact that there is an American staying here and that when we go out in the city, people will probably stare at me. 
I'm really excited for the next couple of weeks but I am also very ready to be home again and to get back to my normal routine.  And as I write that I can already feel myself eating my words.

Lessons

Dear Reader,
Here I am sitting outside, feet up, contemplating life. 

Don't I sound so philosophical.  But let's be honest :
I'm sitting outside because I feel extremely awkward in the house while the housekeeper is cleaning.
My feet are up because I'm elevating my fat cankle to try to keep the swelling down.
And I'm not so much contemplating life as I am staring at the white curtains over my head thinking that someone should clean off the bird shit.


I digress.


And I confess that this post will most likely not be as entertaining as others in the past.  I don't know if it's because I really don't have any stories or if it's because the mood I'm in isn't allowing me to think of any nor give them a funny twist.  So I guess, I'm about to get serious.

As the end of my time in Spain approaches like the Ave (a Spanish high speed train), I've been doing a lot of thinking about what I've learned/come to realize.


1) Those personality tests really don't lie
Freshman year I took a 1 credit "career exploration" course along with a bunch of other lost and undeclared UWEC newbies.  We took a lot of personality tests.  I didn't really need to take one to know that I am an extroverted person, but there was always one question that stuck out to me :
"Do you get energy from being around others?" (or some variation of that).  I never really knew how to answer it because I never considered where my energy came from.  But one thing I was certain of was that I wasn't particularly a fan of being alone.  But not until this summer did I really understand that my energy does in fact come from other people.  I have spent the majority of my days here very secluded from other people.  My human interaction has mostly consisted of 2 painful hours everyday of English lessons with 2 very spoiled teenagers.  Most days I have absolutely no energy or motivation to do anything, so it becomes a vicious cycle.  I need people to feel alive, but I spend so much time alone that I lack even the energy to go out and be with people, which is what I need!  Getting the picture?  I also realized that the reason the question was difficult to answer was because until now, I have never been without close friends and family nearby or without a group that would become my close family and friends (here's looking at you, CRSA 10). 


2) Host families are great...
...But I have outgrown them.  Maybe it's my American upbringing, but this summer it's been made very clear to me that I just simply cannot handle a lack of independence at any level.  Whether it's buying my own groceries, making my own meals, going where I want to go and not having to say that I'm going, or just the choice of not having my bed made everyday (well I don't make it, the housekeeper does).  I felt the same with the first host family go-round in Costa Rica, but I just thought it was due to the circumstance I was in, living alone with the abuelita.  But no.  I realize now that I was raised to be an independent person and it's not something that I can switch off.   Nor do I want to.


3) I am never having kids
Seriously.  I know I always joke about this, but now I really think it's official. 
Okay, I'm being a little dramatic.  These kids really aren't the worst that they could be.  However, they are disrespectful, unmotivated, and have no sense of responsibility.  Not to mention they are beyond spoiled....which I have already mentioned.  But whose fault is that?  The parenting here certainly leaves a lot to be desired.  Last weekend, I went to visit a famous city with some of the other tutors that are here on the same program.  We spent the majority of the time venting about our kids and comparing parenting tactics.  Empty disciplinary threats and disrespectful kids (from ages 5-18) were common themes of discussion.  So maybe I will have kids, though at this point it's seeming unlikely, but at least I have learned some things about how not to parent.

4) The importance of social skills
More specifically, how to talk to people that come from different places than you and who have different personalities.  I know that one of my weaknesses is that I struggle to respect the view points of other people when they are different than mine, especially on points such as gay rights, politics, and other issues surrounding social justice.  At the same time, I think one of my strengths is standing by what I believe in.  So finding the middle is something I have wanted to improve on for a while now.  Anyway, the reason I mention this is because on the weekend trip with the other tutors, I found it really interesting the group dynamic considering that we were all from different parts of the U.S.  The Midwest dominated (represent!) with 3 of the 7 of us being from Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan.  Two others live and work in South Dakota, but are originally from Minnesota as well.  Then we had both coasts with Massachusetts and California.  It was clear that our personalities were not all destined to click right off the bat, and it was also the first time many of us had met.  It was a good challenge to know how to act around each other, how to carry on conversations, and even how to make decisions.  Even though there were some times when you could cut the tension with a knife, I really enjoyed the weekend for the experience that it was.  I couldn't think of another time when I had been with that many people in differing stages of life from various parts of the country.


5) The future freaks me out
It didn't really sink in to me when school got out, but this is my last "official" summer.  I actually have to start to think about what I'm going to do after this school year, which I absolutely hate.  I am a here and now kind of person, so thinking into the future tends to give me anxiety.  I'm also not a fan of planning.  Basically, this situation is everything I dread in life.  So what next?  Good f....g question.




In 13 days, my bags will be packed, I will say farewell to the suburbs, and I will be on a plane heading to Thessaloniki, Greece.  From there it's 2 weeks in Macedonia and Bulgaria, visiting some very good friends.  This is the part of my trip that has given me something to look forward to and kept me going when those damn English classes make my hair fall out.
And despite this trip not being everything I had hoped and dreamed, I still love to travel and want to see the world, and I still am aspiring to be an expatriate (see Facebook profile, about me section).  There are a lot more things that I have learned here and there about myself, and I'm not done yet so I know there are more lessons to come in the last month I have away from home.

Blue Eyes, Bad News

The end of another week has come and gone and I can't believe how fast the time is flying.  On Wednesday I will have been here for a month already, with only one month left to go.  This weekend was...interesting.  Not as crazy as last weekend going out in Madrid, but maybe it's a different kind of crazy?  I will let you be the judge.

Friday night, another language assistant who lives in Madrid sent me an e-mail and invited me to meet up with her and another girl at 7 in the Plaza Mayor, which is basically just a big square that seems to attract a lot of tourists.  We were supposed to meet at the statue right in the center.  Well, we had some communication issues because I had thought I wouldn't get there until 8 and said I would call them when I got there.  But, of course I got there just after 7 and, hoping that they just hadn't gotten there yet, I decided to sit on a bench, people watch until they came, and if I didn't find them, go home.  It was prime people watching hour since there were a ton of tourists groups, several of them American high school students.  I got a kick out of watching them wander around and at one point a few boys sat near me and since I have a bad habit of eavesdropping, caught some of their conversation.  "What do you want to do?" "I dunno...I'm confused" "I think there's like some big market thing over there *pointing in the wrong direction*" "I thought it was over there *pointing in another wrong direction*"  "Man...I don't know....I'm so confused."  I smiled at myself for not feeling like such a tourist anymore.

I had been sitting for about 3 minutes when in my right peripheral vision I saw an old Spanish man approaching the area holding a newspaper.  I would guess he was probably in his late 60's.  He stopped, looked towards my direction, then made a bee-line for the bench and sat RIGHT next to me.  Unnecessarily close since there was an entire circle of hot cement bench he could have sat on.  Oh, yeah that's the other thing.  This "bench" is basically just a circle of stone around a light pole made to sit on, however it was so hot.  I thought my ass was going to start on fire.  Anyway, I continued to scan the square watching for Amanda and this other girl, hoping my obvious attempts to be looking for someone else would discourage this old man from trying to talk to me, but could feel him staring at me.  He started talking to me anyway.  He had one of those "I've been smoking for most of my adult life" voices.  I was immediately reminded of those terrifying movies they showed us in D.A.R.E. of people who have to breathe through a hole in their neck.  I felt a little bad ignoring him, so I said hello but tried to use body language to get my point across that I wasn't about to have a conversation.  He kept talking to me, but I basically just answered whenever there was a pause  with "si si" and didn't really engage or listen.  Then at one point he said something and then was looking at me as if waiting for a response, so I said 'I'm sorry what?'  to which he replied 'Do you want to go?  With me for a tea, coffee, just a little place over there.'  I had to think twice if he was really, actually asking me to go with him to get a tea, coffee and quickly rejected this odd offer with 'No no thank you I am waiting for some people.'  Then he kept telling me something about he was going to leave and go for a walk.  I just kept nodding, thinking to myself 'Good for you...I am not going with you, Grandpa Weirdo'.  But he just kept staaring at me.  That's when I realized it was because he was trying to see my eyes because I was wearing sunglasses.  Finally he asked if he could see them so I pushed them up for a quick second.  After saying something about blue, skies, angels and some other weird stuff, he said he was leaving. After awkwardly lingering, still staring, he finally got up and left.  At that point, I thought I should probably just go before things got weirder.  But, I still was hoping to find the girls so I told myself I'd wait a little longer and leave at 10 to 8.  All this time in the square there are character people, like the people on Hollywood Blvd dressed like celebrities, taking pictures with tourists.  Near me was a Jack Sparrow impersonator who was going around bothering the little high school girls, taking pictures for and with people.  Not 5 minutes after Grandpa Weirdo left, he came and asked if he could sit down in the open spot next to me.  I nodded yes, and tried the scanning tactic that didn't work with Gramps in hopes that maybe this guy wouldn't talk to me.  Do I have to say that it failed?  However, he was less creepy (not hard to be) and seemed to just want to chat while he took a little break from prancing around in the sun.  We had a nice casual chat, but he too kept staring at me.  Then, just like the old guy, asked what my eyes looked like since I was still wearing my sunglasses. So I took them off but immediately felt weird.  There's something about wearing sunglasses that makes you feel like people can't actually see you.  Is there some book that teaches Spanish-speaking men phrases to say to women with blue eyes?  Because he basically said the same things about blue as the sky, angels, heaven blah blah just like Grandpa Tea, Coffee.  But, then he got up and went back to his Jack Sparrow antics and we said farewell.  After a few minutes I decided enough was enough and I should get out of there while I could.  As I was leaving, Jack Sparrow yelled after me and came and said "You're leaving? If you wait a little while we can go get a cup"  I definitely did not want to be in that Plaza anymore so I said "Oh that would be nice but I should really get going. I live kind of far away," so then he said "Well let's get lunch tomorrow! Why not?"  I paused.  Did one of those quick evaluations of the situation and my curiosity of this person who makes a living as a Jack Sparrow character got the best of me, so I said "Yeah..why not?" and agreed.  I promise he was not nearly as creepy as the old man.  Once I got home, I began to think "What the hell?  Why did I agree to that?"  But I couldn't bring myself to ditch out the next day and afterall, I wanted to meet some interesting people while I was here.  Just in case, I planned out some retorts in the event that things took a turn for the worst: "Excuse me Mr. Sparrow, but do I look like a bottle of rum to you?!?"  "*Face slap* You scallywag! I'm no bar maid!"

So I went back yesterday at 1 and there I found the Jack Sparrow man, not dressed as Jack Sparrow.  We went to a little restaurant he knew and had a nice lunch.  He's actually a pretty interesting person. I learned his story, that he's actually from Colombia and came to Madrid 6 years ago, a few months after his girlfriend/wife came, only to find that she had gotten with another man.  They have 2 daughters in Colombia and now the woman has 2 children with this new man.  A few days before had been his daughter's birthday, he said, and it was painfully obvious how hard it was for him that in order to try to make a better life for them he had to be so far away.  We talked a lot about what the U.S. is like, Colombia, a little politics (Che, because I said if he ever gets bored of Jack Sparrow he could probably pull off a Che Guevara), how he ended up as Jack Sparrow, music, among other things.  He was very nice, a little too liberal with the compliments but I decided to chalk it up to him being Latino.  When we parted, he gave me his phone number, but I still haven't decided if I will contact him again.  

Then last night the neighbors, Ibana and German, had a party.  Another language assistant, Kyle, just got to the area last week so they wanted to introduce him to me and Daniel, their tutor.  Kyle is from Minnesota and has been out of school 3 years teaching 3rd grade in South Dakota.  Poor fellow doesn't speak a lick of Spanish so he was glad for the English break with Daniel and I.  He was very nice -unfortunately, though, a Vikings fan.  At about 12, where most parents would be calling it a night, Ibana put on some music and everyone started yelling at the "Americanos" to get up and dance.  They started putting people into a line-dancing sort of formation, the men in a line on one side and the women on the other, paired up with a partner.  I was partnered up with Kyle who had less of an idea than I did as to what was happening.  Next thing we knew, everyone was doing some sort of Flamenco dance and randomly yelling "Ole". But for the most part, it looked like no one really knew what they were doing, or there had been a few too many vinos consumed by the masses.  So we created our own dance, a mix of "Flamenco", the Macarena, and Cotton-Eyed Joe.  After a while, the line-dance broke up, the Dads went to the table of liquor and the Moms continued to dance in a circle to some Spanish 80's pop, music from "their time" they kept saying.  By 1:30 a lot of the kids were begging their moms to go home.  Most people didn't leave until about 2:30, including me, at which time most of the kids were still up running around. 

I'm off to the pool now.  It's a heat wave here, although I didn't know it could get hotter! 

Hasta la proxima!