What Did You Say?!

The first day I arrived at Pedro's house, I met a few of his friends. When they asked me about what food we had in Canada, I was a little stumped. I mean, how the heck do you say maple syrup and poutine in Spanish? When they asked what we ate for breakfast, I confidently said eggs. Actually, it was the only thing I said. They didn't hear about the glorious pancakes with maple syrup, french toast, fresh fruit, oatmeal, and hash browns since I didn't know those words either. But hey, at least they knew we ate something right?

But then they asked me what we ate for lunch....and at that point I had ran out of words, so again I said eggs.....Pedro, looking either confused or concerned, replied with "more eggs?"

Yes Pedro...more eggs...eggs for days!

They must have caught on though because they didn't ask about dinner. Needless to say, having a language barrier can get a little frustrating, but more often than not it just cracks me up. I was texting a friend the other night, telling her I'd be ready to meet her after a shower. But instead of saying "I am going to shower", I ended up saying "I am going to fight." Because contrary to popular belief, there is a difference between "duchar" and "luchar"....which honestly sounds identical to me when spoken, am I right?!

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A few days ago, we had an especially long night. At 11pm we bussed to Madrid to meet with some friends at a marketplace (turned bar/hangout place by night.) After a couple of drinks and some catching up, we headed to the club...at 2am! Dancing until 6am definitely was a new experience for me. They warned me earlier that Spanish partiers could dance till 7am, and I would say that at 7am I would be eating breakfast (pancakes with maple syrup, holla!). Well, apparently I can have my cake and eat it too because that morning, after leaving the club at 6 am, we went and grabbed breakfast. Do I feel bad for clubbing all night? No, 'cause God knows I need that workout to burn off all that bread and beer.

{Photo taken by Luis Garcia on November 21st, 2006.}

On the bus ride home, Pedro and Sergio took full advantage of the 40 minute ride to get some shut eye. I, on the other hand, was wide awake. Tired, but not tired enough to miss the passing landscape. Chalk it up to my child-like curiousity, as everything from the city structures to the country terrain mesmerized me. The sun rose up as we rode on, and I witnessed a part of Spain enveloped by a sky painted a pastel blue, pink, and orange. There was just something incredibly peaceful about the entire the ride home. It was tranquil but powerful; like breathing was more than just a natural process but an absolute gift, and in it that moment it really was. Maybe my rose-tinted glasses come from the fact that I'm on vacation, or from my characteristic of feeling wonder in every new experience, but either way I'm going to take it all in. Afterall, all that's left afterwards will be the memories, and they're something I want to keep for the rest of my life.