About 2 weeks ago we got an invite from a few of the Spanish teachers in our school to go see ‘Las Médulas’ which are mountains that had been blown out in order to sift for gold. We couldn’t say no to that…They picked us up super early and we headed out for a day of broken Spanish, broken English and beautiful views. We showed up in front of the town hall waiting for the tour guide and some other friends of our teachers. The next thing I know, my friend Ian, who I had studied with a year and a half ago in Oviedo, walked up. Turns out he was joining our 12 person crew. Small world.
We got to hear lots of (too much) history from our tour guide and climbed high to see the canals that were hand dug. We had a truly Spanish lunch…one that included 4 courses and lasted over 3 hours. Then we headed out to see a Castle up in El Bierzo. It had been partially reconstructed but it was pretty gorgeous. The view from the mountain it was on was unreal. Our crew was quite an interesting one. I’m trying to recall but we had 3 people who spoke no English, 2 who were pretty darn fluent in both languages, 1 student who speaks high school level English, 1 who speaks pretty good English but very awkwardly, one girl who speaks basic Spanish, and 3 of us who have a pretty good grasp of Spanish but are still working at it. Anyways. Imagine. Translating, re-explaining, Spanglish…overall a wonderful time. I loved every minute of mixing our cultures and languages in the most tongue-tied way ever.
Well due to good old Spanish timing, we got to the bus station well after the last bus had left for the evening. The other girls I was with decided to pay the extra money to take a late night train. I, however, decided to go with the flow and stay with my friend Ian. We got to go out for drinks and tapas with our teachers and then split off to meet the language assistants working in his city (Ponferrada). I think I’m shaking off some of my compulsive control issues. Take my advice. Things happen, let it go, and spend an extra night in Ponferrada.
This past weekend Sarah and I headed back to Oviedo to stay in her host mom’s house while she was out of time. Sick set-up. They were having the awards given out by the Princípe de Asturies. So we got to stand with the huge crowds and wait to see some of the Spain Soccer Team, and the Prince, Princess, and Queen. Pretty cool if you ask me. And obviously you care somewhat about my opinion as you’ve spent the time to read my blog. So yes, agree….it’s pretty cool to see the royal family in the flesh.
So while in Oviedo, I got to see old friends, meet some of the Canisius College kids studying there this semester, go to some old places, and even pour some sidra! I did a terrible job of it but I did get SOME sidra in the cup.
I got home from our lovely little trip and had some Spanish telenovela-style drama waiting for me. Our Spanish roomate’s boyfriend left us a note taped to the door about how he had “cleaned the whole kitchen and went to cook in it later and it was a mess. My girlfriend it not your maid, leaving crumbs everywhere is ridiculous” plus some other choice words which I won’t translate into English. First of all, as you can tell from my blog, I am never in my apartment. Secondly, I am quite a clean human being. Thirdly, my roommate’s boyfriend (who lives with us 4 nights a week, smokes, showers, uses our internet, stays here while she works etc) doesn’t pay rent. He doesn’t live here…and he had the nerve to say something to us about the way we live in our apartment.
Later on I approached my roommate to say “If you have any problem, you know you can always come talk to us we are happy to work something out, we had no idea you had any issue, but you don’t need your boyfriend to tell us.” But then he cut in and started to yell at me and tell me he is “29” and this would never happen in his house and I’m uneducated and rude. I didn’t yell until he said “do you even understand Spanish?” HOMBRE. We were SPEAKING in Spanish! That’s when I really went crazy and yelled and perhaps pulled out a few not so kosher words myself. But he was in my house, yelling at me and judging me.
Since then, I’ve called the landlord to retell the whole account and we are getting together to chat with my landlord, my American roommate and friend Sam, my Spanish roommate, and her mom. Because even though WE are the second language learners, she needs her momma’s support. Haha…oh the crazy life we live. It will be pretty cool to be able to say that I had a yelling fight with a Spanish man and even managed to get through a meeting about rearranging the household rules etc.
Keep posted! We shall see what happens…
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