24/26-09-07HomeworkInAPlaza

I love the fact that the city is open all night every night. This first have of the week has been absolutely sleep deprived. I got home at 5/6 AM Sunday night, 3:30ish Monday, similar Tuesday, and 2:30 Wednesday (but only because I had to drive a car to Portugal in the morning). Due to classes and such I’ve had between 4 and 6 hours of sleep and due to the insatiable need to go to the beach daily didn’t make up for that with siestas. I really didn’t mind though. At night I’d walk around plazas and go to the beach and watch the waves. Kind of sappy, but awesomely awesome.

On Monday night I actually had homework that had to get done. I did some at home and then went to a plaza in the old part of town where I finished it all. Three others and me sat around studying for our first exam and I finished writing/editing the essay I needed to turn in early for Spanish (also we saw a youtube video on Basilisks – crazy frickin lizards that can run across water). The other reason we met up that night in the plaza and the reason that I had to finish my essay early was to plan our trip to Portugal that would have us skipping class on Friday. After the homework was done, we had a couple drinks and then departed for the night a few hours later.

‘Mom’ vs. Eli – Round 75. Lunch on Tuesday was a complete victory on my part. After the first plate was done she attempted to give me twice as much of the second as I wanted. She left the room with two portions, warmed them up, brought it back, went back with another one portion to warm up for my ‘dad’, during which I gave my ‘dad’ the one portion I didn’t want but would satisfy him. When she got back, the last one she warmed up she could eat herself, and I ate what I wanted. To make the peace after the fancy maneuver I told her I would eat it for dinner (not something I did because I forgot I had plans for dinner already, though I would have!). I would have felt bad about it all but the Spanish mothers just haven’t gotten their minds around Tupperware. If something isn’t finished, they get completely nervous, sometimes leaving out till dinner, others covering it with a plate or some plastic wrap and sticking it in the fridge, or as they do all to often throw it away. The society seems to be getting in general richer and be receiving the same sort of disposable tendencies we see in the US. It’s a little sad, but inevitable as the rest of the world sees the efficiencies rather than degradation of discipline of a disposable culture.

That night we went out to a bar/restaurant well known for their tapas. Amazing, fantastic, so great. We ordered a beef in “spicy” sauce, a veggie mixture with sauce, montaditos (little sandwiches) – one of salmon and one of jam, and my favorite by far – a big old chorizo (spiced sausage). The beef was tasty but far from spicy, but that chorizo was absolutely fantastic. I know that it must have had a 100 grams of fat in it, but the flavor was so glorious that it matters not. I solemnly promise that I will be back to eat me another quite soon. The other great part is that I again did not eat too much, and spent just five euros for two dishes and a beer. Not a bad price at all.

As time goes on living in my house with my ‘parents’ and spending time with friends around the city I realize I sort of feel like I’m back in high school or worse. I feel like I’m more or less imposing on the household as is, even though I know they are getting paid to keep we there, and so I don’t feel comfortable having friends over since it is their house and they are only obligated to support my presence alone. It makes the personal space that I love at college and really enjoy sharing with others non-existent. The streets, plazas, and bars do alright, but it is certainly an aspect of the lifestyle that I’m happy to escape. Unfortunately for many Spanish children, they end up living with their parents for many many years (it is super common for kids to stay in the house until they are in their late 20s). This is due to the lack of quality employment, steep housing prices, and – a trait I notice more and more – extreme laziness. Due to all that they too don’t have their own home to host people at will, though they do have a different, closer relationship with their parents which makes things a little easier.

On Wednesday night I went out to get some tapas, botellón’ing before and after. The place we went was called Los Cien Montaditos which meant everything was in between bread. It was all great, though I was disappointed about the Carne con Mojo Picón (meat in a spicy sauce) which my ‘mom’ made for me once and told me was fantastic here. Hers was great and had a little kick while theirs was good but essentially kick-less. Regardless, another tapas success. Afterwards, we hit up the bars for a bit before I needed to head home and rest up for driving to Portugal. I met a couple of Gaditanos and was glad to get home early enough for a few hours of sleep.