Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Nigerian Prince

Or, more specifically, the Ibo prince. So, yesterday at school, one of the random men who work at the school and walk around and don't really seem to have a purpose, called me to come out to meet this woman. I don't know how she found out about me (English auxiliar) but she asked me if I could help her communicate with her mother-in-law, who doesn't speak Spanish, that her husband (the mom's son.. confusing!) had been detained. I was super confused myself but told her I would. We met yesterday afternoon at our favorite bar (the teachers', Jenny's and mine, not the random lady's.. English is my first language???). Mariola told me that her husband is a Nigerian prince and his uncle is the king of Nnewi in the soutern region of Nigeria. Pretty much, Mariola's parents are racist and had Mariola and the prince's daughter taken away; they were both put in jail but Mariola was released and the prince continues in the jail in Cáceres. Very confusing. She showed me pictures of the prince, his royal family, their kids. Then a long confusing period followed while we tried to get ahold of his mother, the sister of the king. Finally I talked to his aunt, I think, who would look into it. Mariola told me she was afraid their son would be taken from her too.

It was incredibly strange, the whole situation. Before meeting her, Jenny and I decided that I should charge her, since I'd be giving her a service. I'd even thought of a mostly tactful way to say it. But after she started telling me all this, I just couldn't say anything. I really feel for her, she seemed so desperate for someone to talk to, someone to listen to her. She told me how awful it is when your family abandons you; once again, I realize how lucky I am.

Anyway! Tomorrow I go to Madrid, to spend the night in Barajas for our flight to Budapest on Saturday morning! I can't wait. It's weird though. I wonder how I'll feel on the bus tomorrow. I have 4+ hours to deal with it.

Monday, May 26, 2008

En fin... ¡joder!

I'm down to the last week here in Coria. I have my certificate for the program, got it last Thursday in Mérida. I was joking about not going back to work after I got it and after we got paid (paid today) and when I went to the school to pick up my schedule, I was told that I didn't have any classes--"una semana libre". My last week. Those bastards! They didn't even give me the chance to not come in! Haha, it's fine, but a little weird. So, I'm done. DONE. Done with this shitty job! Very anticlimatic, especially since I didn't realize last Friday would be my last day. But I still have 4 more days here until I go to Madrid. Ah well. En fin, I'm done. All that's left here is packing and cleaning the house. It's so hard to believe. I'm just so over it all.

I think I'll be sad when I leave. This has been my home for the last 7+ months. I'm not quite sure what I'm getting in to in terms of Eastern Europe, the Camino, and espeically the life that awaits me in the US. I do know that when I get back there will definitely be stress waiting for me. We were talking about what it's going to be like when we get back home, and Talisa made a good point. What we're living right now, here in Spain, seems like a dream for us. Life is so laid back, so chill. But this is reality here. What we live here is reality for los españoles. Even those with careers. Nothing compared to the hurried lives of most Americans. And I realize that I'm lazy and I like to live like this.

Anyway! Enough rambling! It's time to leave this pueblo, travel for a month or two, walk across northern Spain, then face the real world. Reality. My future. Life. Joder, ¿eh? I can't believe how fast it went. Así es.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

WOMAD

Womad is an international music festival that came to Cáceres this past weekend. Jenny and I went on Friday and it was absolutely amazing!! We bussed to Cáceres, hoping to find a place to stay for the night but resolved to stay up all night and sleep in the bus station before our 2pm bus on Saturday. Miraculously, we found a hostal (after many-a try). There were three stages set up, one in the Plaza Mayor and two others in smaller plazas. And shit. There were so many people. And so many hippies! It reminded me of home so much, the excellent atmosphere. But even better in some ways: you can botellón. Rather, you can drink in public from huge 1.5 L beers. Everyone and their mother was doing it, right next to small children and old people. It was great. So, when in Cáceres... Jenny and I bought some huge bottles of beer and I ate some tasty green Thai curry--something I have not had since I left the US. Which is a really long time ago, when I stop and think about it. We saw a Japanese band, Turkish, Spanish, and Moroccan reggae. It was so fun! And then it made me angry because I didn't live in Cáceres, but rather some dinky pueblo nearby. Alas! My time is nearing an end! I only have 2 1/2 more weeks here until Syd and I are off to Eastern Europe! I can't believe it! I need out of this town, NOW. If anyone has any suggestions about Hungary, Croatia, or Bosnia, I would love to hear them!

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Morocco, Málaga, Cádiz.... our own 12 day vacation!

So we made our own puente to go to Morocco. Jenny and I went to Tarifa, which is the southern most tip of Spain where you can see Europe, Africa, the Mediterranean, and the Atlantic all at once. It's a beautiful city, but a little too windy. It also really didn't feel like Spain: tons of foreigners, English everywhere. We met Sydney and Talisa in Algeciras, an ugly port city. So ugly. We arranged our trip to Morocco with the help of Erin and a travel agent there. It included the ferry, shuttle to and from the port, two nights in a hotel, and breakfast. After a night in a slightly sketchy hostal and some excellent Moroccan pastries, we ended up going back to Tarifa to catch the ferry. I love ferries! We got to Tangier and our hotel, the Solazur. Not bad. We went to the Medina, bartered a bit, struggled with the money (11 dirham to 1 euro), ate some amazing food. Oh, and rode camels. There were camels on the beach (tourist trap!) and we couldn't not do it. Not super comfortable but definitely an experience. The next day we went to Chefchaouen (someone please correct my spelling!), a mountain village. It was so incredibly gorgeous: all the walls were whitewashed and painted blue to ward off evil spirits. The people in the shops were less pushy and overall it was more calm. However, we all felt awkward as part of a large tour group disrupting the peace in the city and clogging the narrow streets. The rest of the group was mostly Spanish, so super loud too. It was incredibly hot and but the end we were dying. The next day, before the ferry, we went to the Medina again to barter some more. It's very apparent that the shopkeepers really enjoy it, as some bartered with glee. Glee! The food was such an excellent change from disgusting Spanish food. I ate (forgive the spelling everywhere) falafel, tabouli, baba ganouj, hummous, crazy Moroccan salads, tagin. So much flavor! And the tea.. Mint with lots of sugar. But actual mint. Absolutely amazing. It was so strange to be in another culture, entirely distinct from any I have ever experienced. I had been warned by many Spaniards to be incredibly careful, to always be on guard, that everyone would try to rip us off. But I've had more overwhelming experiences in Mexico, honestly. The men were a bit much, with their comments (Hola guapa, Hello flower, etc.) and their staring. There were restaurants and cafes that were very clearly for men only. They would sit with their chairs turned toward the street, just staring. We would walk around looking for a place to eat saying, "Oh there's a woman in that one, let's eat there." The shopkeepers and waiters were all very polite to us, though. I'm still unsure as to where the women spend their days because we saw so many men but fewer women out in public. On the beach, there were maybe two women and the rest were males of various ages. I also saw several men praying outside at various times, pointed toward Mecca. Me parece que one has to have a good sense of direction to correctly position the body toward Mecca several times a day. Mosques everywhere. So different from Spain, with its churches and cathedrals at every corner. Overall, a great experience. I would love to go back and spend more time there.

We spent another night in Tarifa upon return and set back toward home. The bus to Sevilla broke so we had to wait awhile for another one to come. We met two Americans there, waiting for the same bus. Katheryn is on her way around the world and Alfredo came to visit here. Talking to them really makes me want to travel and travel and travel and never work. At this point, Jenny and I started inventing stories about why we couldn't come to work, as we only had 2 days of it until the next puente. Finally in Sevilla we waited forever to get a cab, a lady cut the line, everyone was outraged and yelling and after about 5 minutes the lady finally got out and someone else got in. She had to go to the back of the line. It was so funny. On the cab ride to the other bus station (to go to Cáceres), Jenny and I decided to text in sick. Or rather, I texted in saying I got ill from the food in Morocco and Jenny just said she wasn't going to come in. I felt guilty for a little while but after being back all guilt has evaporated once I remembered how much I hate the job...

Jenny and I spent the night in Sevilla and headed to Málaga the next day. We had mistakenly booked a hostal in Torremolinos, about half an hour outside of the city of Málaga. It turned out to be fine, more tranquilo with a beautiful beach. Also not like Spain with tons of foreigners, Indian restaurants and bars with foreign beer (unheard of in most places). We also had an excellent roommate: Tuomas from Finland. Super funny. Málaga is beautiful (reusing the same adjectives repeatedly). I loved the Alcazaba, a fort from the 11th century during the Muslim rule. I love Arab architecture; so different from the usual Spanish designs.

Then we went back to Sevilla, then to Cádiz to meet Sydney. The most wonderful beach. Our second day we went to the beach and swam and swam in the Atlantic. It was a bit cold, but no colder than any lake in Washington. Amazing. And we got terribly burned on random parts of the body. Typical. The next day we layered up to go to the beach, swam, then ran home to get out of the sun.

And now I'm back from the 12 day vacation. Seriously, how many more jobs will I have where I can do this and get away with it? And there are less than 4 weeks left here. Crazy.