Yesterday was my last Saturday in Valencia.
My host family is in Munera for the weekend, since one of Pichon's cousins has her communion.
I decided that I would make a trip into the heart of the city and spend all day long shopping, eating, people-watching, etc.
I walked to the metro train near my house, and when I got there, there was an older man (in his 60s) who said "Siempre las más blancas son las más guapas. No te pongas morena!" which translates to "It's always the palest girls who are the prettiest! Don't you ever get tan!"
I got on the train, and at the transfer station (to switch to the more city-centered green/red lines), there was a little toddler playing with a plastic toy on the platform (he was very far from the edge, don't worry). I was watching, along with the lady next to me on the bench, because well, kids are cute. The little boy then jumped, tripped, and launched the little toy out of his hands. It was like slow motion, bouncing, bouncing...and it got all the way to the edge of the platform, bounced, and then FELL. Onto the tracks. It was pretty suspenseful, and I audibly went "awwww, no!" And the lady next to me turned to me and laughed. The poor kid. The dad, smartly, didn't go after the toy and just told the kid it was too late, and it met it's demise, four feet down on the tracks. How unfortunate.
I got off the train at the Colón (as in, Crístobal Colón, who you might know as Christopher Columbus) stop, and I immediately found the 7 Camicie store I was looking for. When my parents and I were in Portugal, my dad went into this store and fell in love with their snazzy shirts, but they didn't have a particular one (double collar, black and white stripes) in his size. I found out there was another one in Valencia, so after my parents were gone, I checked it out. As I have mentioned, these stores have about 10 shirts in each size. No luck at the Valencia one, or even the Alicante one for that matter. This was my last shot, and THERE IT WAS! I thought there was going to be something wrong. I have been to three stores already with no luck. There was no way I could have found it. But alas, I did. The funny thing is, I have passed this store a million times, since I get off that metro stop a lot. However, I always ignore it because although the pretty colors in the windows catch my eye, I am always like "oh, it's just men's shirts. PASS."
I then went to the Correos, or mail, building in the main city plaza. That building is one of the older buildings of the city, and has a huge main hall with marble columns and three floors looking into the center area, topped with a glass dome. Epic. Cristina's mom worried me on Friday by saying "When [not if] you need to ship stuff home, it will be helpful to know how much it costs. When Cristina studied in Italy, she shipped a lot of stuff home, and it was cheaper than paying for extra luggage." I hope I don't have to ship stuff home. I never had to do that before. Also, I don't think that shipping stuff home will be cheaper for me. I think extra luggage costs like $70, and I found out yesterday that approximately the same size and weight box would cost 150 EUROS ($195) to ship. So yeah, I REALLY hope I don't have to ship stuff. I'll just be that obnoxious person with lots of carry on stuff that just barely works into the limitations. However, if I remember correct, that first plane to France is tiny. I remember thinking that a Harry Potter book in my lap was cramped.
Now that my "stuff I really have to get done today" was done, I was free to roam the city. I dipped into Mercadona, the grocery store, to see if anything looked yummy to grab-and-go. The produce section in this store is like, well, all Spanish produce sections in that you have to weigh and sticker your bag with a price before checking out, unlike in the US, where they do it for you at checkout. Each produce item has a number next to it, so you know what button to press on the scale. If you forget, there is also a sign above the scale with typical produce items and their keycodes. I saw a girl (maybe a couple years younger than me) go to the scale and look really confused. She stared at the fruit, then at the board above the keypad, trying to find her item. She just had this hopeless look on her face, like "I have no idea what I am doing." She found her item on the list, punched it in, then she took a minute finding where the sticker ejects from the machine. Then she slowly grabbed her stuff with this "I hope that's it" look on her face, and immediately bumps into an elderly man behind her. She looked so shaken. I felt like a senior watching a freshman get to class for the first time. "I was you, once."
I didn't end up getting anything because I forgot that they don't refrigerate any soft drinks, so although that 20 cent can of Sprite was calling me, it was room temperature. And who likes that? No one.
I then hopped over to El Corte Ingles, where I spent the next hour and a half. I have mentioned this store before, but if you forgot, it is like a Macy's on steroids. It is a department store, but with SO MUCH MORE! There is a massive stationery section, gift section, tourist gift section, bookstore, music store, makeup area, clothing area, shoe section, etc and the list goes on. These stores are massive and there are THREE on Colón street alone. Their gift section is awesome. They have a purse in the shape of a giant Converse shoe, phones in the shape of hamburgers or high heels, plastic ice cubes in the shape of anchors and ships, magnets that play music, and other random cool stuff. The stationery section is equally awesome, and the epitome of window shopping: there is so much cool stuff to look at, even though you already know you won't buy anything. Is that a Swarovski crystal pencil? Is that a notepad in the shape of a chocolate bar? Are those erasers in the shape of 3D cars that have real wheels? Is that a journal made of Lego bricks? YES, yes, yes yes! Cristina gave me a coupon the other day for "spend 60 euros, get 6 euros back". I could easily spend 60 euros, since I had souvenirs and gifts to buy! However, I came up short, since there was a book in my purchase and the coupon couldn't be used on books. I wasn't going to spend 10 more euros to save 6...that didn't make any sense at all.
On my way to finding food (I already had a crepe restaurant in mind), I ducked in to a couple more stores that I came across. Hey, I have no rush, no plans, just hours and hours to spend doing whatever I please! I went into a store and immediately noticed a wall of American-themed clothing. Ironically enough, I come across the globe to be surrounded by all things American. At Corte Ingles, there were notepads with major American cities but NO Spanish cities! I was thinking "Hey this would be a great gift" but I wasn't going to get a notepad with New York or LA or Seattle on it. I mean Seattle? Really? How do you have Seattle and no Madrid or Barcelona? Do Spanish people even know what or where Seattle is? I doubt it. This one clothing store was obnoxious in its display of USA and red/white/blue clothing. Now I know I should travel to Spain to get 4th of July clothes. They had jeans with a giant American flag painted on them. They had flag scarves. Flag halters. Tops. Skirts, shirts, shoes, socks. Seriously, America is in fashion right now.
I got to the crepe place near the Virgin plaza. I saw it when my parents were here, but we didn't end up eating there. I got a table outside, and there were already tons of people at the other tables and nearby restaurants (it was 3pm). Prime time people-watching. The waiter saw me alone and gave me a bowl of crayons. The tablecloth was paper, so maybe he thought it would be less boring eating alone. I have always felt self-conscious eating alone in restaurants (which is why it almost never happens). You feel like you are always being stared at, and unless you have a book to read, that is all you are doing to other people. However, I was super comfortable here. I had my back against a fence and my table facing outward (so French...if you didn't already know, patio tables at French cafes always have chairs facing the street). There I was, enjoying my goat cheese/raisin/walnut/spinach galette while listening to a street performer play accordion music, watching people walk by. It was perfect. After the meal, I went inside to use the restroom and I saw the inside for the first time...the bar was made out of a car! Like, the entire shell of a car was used as the bar, and the bartenders peeked through the windows, and also the car was covered in seashells. It was really cool.
After lunch, I noticed some homeless women on the church steps asking for money, so I went to a nearby sandwich shop, got a tuna/egg/tomato bocadillo (sandwich on french bread), and had the waiter cut it in half. I presented the two ladies with the halves, and the latter bothered me because as I was giving the first lady half, she was like "What about me!?" and when I gave her the half, she was like "What about water?!" There are fountains throughout the city. I think you should be happy with that.
I walked toward the Virgin plaza and there was a group of homeless men nearby, one of which hollered at me something about me being pale and needing to get out in the sun more. Then I think he said something dirty. Wonderful! I kept walking and there was a younger homeless guy (no more than 25) walking in the same direction. A few blocks later, I noticed he was still there, even when there were very few people on the street. I quickly ducked into a souvenir shop to get away from the dude, bought a Valencian flag, and he was gone when I got back out. But it made me paranoid for the rest of the day. Normally I wouldn't mind walking down side streets or alleyways at 4pm, but now I was like "He might be there, WAITING!"
My next mission was to find somewhere to grab a coffee and something sweet. I wandered and wandered because I wanted a cute place with lots of people, but also not a touristy part of the city where it'd be expensive. I ended up at the same spot I've been with my parents and Carly and Sarah, on Carrer de Ribera. It's a little gelato shop, and I got a coffee and ice cream and sat and people watched for a good half hour or so. It was nice having no obligations.
I got up and headed over to Carrer de Russafa which has a bunch of cute clothing shops that I saw when I went to the American store a few weeks ago. After my feet couldn't take it any longer, I got back on the train home.
I pulled out Thank you for Smoking and I, Robot (here called Yo, Robot. Yo robot, how you doin'?) from Cristina's uncle's movie collection and watched those, ordering online from Telepizza a BBQ chicken, pineapple and onion pizza. When the delivery man came, I stupidly left the front door open and Gin escaped, leading the next ten minutes to be spent searching in the neighbor's yard for the cat. Luckily the neighbors were home and could let me into their yard. I was so scared that THIS would be the time (Gin's escaped a lot) that he escaped and was never to be seen again, especially when Cristina and Pichon weren't home. "Oh hey, while you were out, I lost your cat." But he was hanging out in the neighbors' bushes, and after the neighbor offered him some ham, I grabbed him and shooed him into our house.
Aw man, it was wonderful. No obligations, no rush, no one to need to talk to/call/email. It was great.
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Saturday and Sunday in Alicante, spending time with my old host family
This is a continued post (and final one) about my weekend trip back to Alicante...
Saturday morning, we went to the open air market next door to their home. It was huge, just like the other one I remember from my time in Alicante. They have booths selling fresh fruit, veggies, bread, olives, candy, shoes, socks, etc. We bought Dante some new “summer shoes” and some fresh produce. Win win!
We then dropped off the groceries and walked to the city center. I checked my email at a local locutorio because I needed to check the name of a 7 Camicie shirt style that my dad wanted. Let’s dedicate a paragraph to the Locutorio. These places are a technology go-to, like a Kinko’s but with phone booths and pay-by-the-minute computers (checking my email, for 3 minutes, cost 15 cents). There were practically no lights in this one, which added to the creep factor that is already inherent in a darkly-lit computer place. There are video cameras on the computers to use video chat, but I would never have a personal conversation in a public place like this. There were only men in there, and just thinking about men using computers in a corner shop instead of the ones at home just creeps me out, because the only reason you would use a shady place like this in your hometown is for shady business. I used hand sanitizer on my way out.
7Camicie, by the way, didn't have the shirt. All their stores are really small and have about 12 shirts of each size, all in different colors. There is no double of a shirt, even in another size. You like a design but it's not in your size? TOO BAD! That's all they have! What a horrible business concept.
We went to lunch at an Italian restaurant, where Dante went down the hallway where the bathrooms were and claimed there was no men’s room. He came back almost immediately, telling the whole restaurant of people (only with about 6 people at the time) “Mommy! There isn’t a men’s room. There is only a door with the lady in a dress on it.” Rocío just smiled and said “Okay, then go in the women’s restroom. If anyone says anything, just say your mommy said it was okay.” Later, I went to the bathroom and saw the men’s door was wide open, making it hard to see the men’s bathroom sticker on the door.
Then we had ice cream at Pinnochio, then cupcakes at Las Manolitas (and I bought some to bring to Cristina and her family). That cupcake place is so adorable. Though, I think that is a requirement for cupcake places.
We then played at the park, and Dante immediately made a new friend, Hugo. Rocío pointed out a homeless family (she has seen them sleeping on the street) whose mom was pregnant. The mom and dad were surrounded by their five kids. Rocío told me the last time she saw them, they had four kids and the mom was pregnant. She was a bit frustrated that the mom kept having children when she was bringing them up in that situation of living on the street and begging for food. Silly me asked how that woman could even give birth on the streets and have the kids survive, as Rocío informed me that their health system here allows anyone and everyone to enter a hospital for “free” health care (in quotation marks because obviously there is a cost). We then went to the outdoor aquarium (in the middle of a park), then took the bus home.
We then went to the mall, where Rocío’s friend works at the kids zone. She met this woman because she also has a pug; hers is named Butch. Lola and Butch are friends. The kids zone area of the mall is like, the greatest idea I have ever seen. It is a play area with a ball pit, climbing wall, table with coloring supplies, TV with cartoons on (with bean bag chair sitting area), etc. You drop off your kid for an hour, free, and pick him/her up an hour later, so you can shop without the “Mommy, I want this!” ordeal that comes with shopping with children. FREE. And there are about five supervisors/nannys that watch the kids. There was also this special area that changes month to month (that way your kid never refuses to go to the play area because there is always something new) and this month it was an inflatable planetarium. It was a giant black dome made out of that inflatable fabric that they make those jump castles out of. And inside it was glow in the dark stars or something. Dante didn’t want to go, but later during dinner, he shared that he was upset that he chose not to go in the planetarium and wanted to go before it was gone.
Meanwhile, Rocío and I walked around the mall, and in Oysho (bra store) they were playing “Million Dollar Man” by Lana del Rey. I love that song. I told Rocío about Lana’s backstory, being that she was well known on the blogosphere before her “coming out” on Saturday Night Live this year, where she was awful and got ripped apart by the critics. But then she made up for it by being much much better at other live performances. So we walk into the next store, Pull & Bear, and they are playing “Born to Die” remix (by Lana del Rey). I was like “Weird, this is the same artist!” We walk out, go into Bershka and “Blue Jeans” is playing (again, by Lana del Rey). Rocío told me they must play this music when I enter any store. I don’t know, but I LIKE IT. I ended up buying two shirts at Bershka. I cannot get enough of that store...I think anything and everything I have bought for myself here in Spain has been from Bershka.
We then headed home and Dante and I watched Cars 2. It was a pirated version they bought on the street, and it was a Russian version dubbed in Venezuelan Spanish. Any and all text was in Russian, so newspaper headlines were just gibberish me. The dubbing was in Spanish, but Rocío pointed out that it was Venezuelan. I asked how, and she said their accents were different and some phrases changed. Like instead of saying “de nada” for “you´re welcome”, they said “eso no es nada.” I find it fascinating that for basically the same language, they dub a movie so many different times for each country. Can you imagine (if we bothered to dub movies, which we usually don’t) having a British English, American English, Australian English, Irish English and Scottish English version? And Canadian English? It seems like wasted effort.
Then, at dinner, Rocío shared that we were going to the beach tomorrow (Sunday) and, in the cutest and most seemingly scripted event of the weekend, Dante perked up, got out of his chair and ran to Rocío saying “Oh Mommy thank you! Thank you so much!” and smothering her in kisses and hugs. Just for going to the beach. In a town that is located on the beach.
Later, when Rocío took Lola out for a walk and said “I´ll be right back,” Dante just said “okay” and continued eating his dinner. For me, this was a big deal. Two years ago, when Rocío would leave for just a tiny itty bitty bit of time, Dante would start wailing and running through the house crying for his mommy. Now he is all grown up, not even drifting his eyes from his dinner plate, as he says ”Okay.” I almost teared up right there. There was a box of cookies on the table, and there was a contest on the back to win a trip for four to London for a weekend. Therefore, there was a picture of Big Ben. Dante, very seriously, told me “You know where I got these cookies? There, that city right there. “ “London? You went to London for these cookies?” “Yes. I took a train.” That would be quite the train ride. Before you say that it’s impossible, there is a Paris-London train that goes underwater. Still, it would be a bit excessive. So I said, “Oh really, and what is that clock right there called?” “It doesn’t have a name. It is just a clock.”
Then, as I was reading before bed, I saw a cockroach out of the corner of my eye, scurry across the floor, leading Rocío to spray the entire room with spray, shutting the window (so they couldn’t enter from the garden below the window), and exiling me temporarily to the living room for a half hour while the spray mist cleared. Then I was sweating the entire night with no breeze through the window and in fear of another cockroach crawling on my sleeping face.
We got up the next morning, I packed up my stuff, and we drove (30 min) to San Juan beach where her Brazilian friend lives (she's the wife of a coworker of Rocío’s). Rocío's close friends Lluvy (sp?) and Suyin are both Cuban, and the former is in Cuba temporarily to keep her nationality and Suyin is living in Italy with her German boyfriend. There is a lot of cultural mingling here. Unfortunately, Rocío hasn’t seen her friends in a really long time, leaving her to be a bit lonely. I think she sees this Brazilian friend, Celina, about once a week now. Celina paints as a hobby, so she has all these little art works around her apartment, which Rocío said “is like a museum.” It is just so cool and filled with fun stuff. Every corner of the house is decorated. The hallway has dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, the bathroom has colored soaps and a unique bath rug, the living room has bongo drums and the tiny balcony has three chairs, a rainbow windsock, wooden wind chimes, and a celestial-themed hanging decoration. And a rainbow rooster weather vane. It’s just a collection of the coolest most random things. I love it. Rocío is just the kind of person who has Brazilian museum-house friends.
We went to the beach first, where Dante and I built sand castles and hopped the waves (without going too deep in the water because Dante was scared). By the time we went back to Celina’s apartment, I was starving, and Celina had prepared us homemade gnocchi with homemade pasta sauce. I was ravenous, and this was soooo goood. There was also a big salad with beets and cheese and sprouts and all sort of stuff, and Rocío sprinkled some yellow spice on it which I later found was tumeric. I have heard of it, but I don’t think I have ever had it before. Rocío is just the kind of person who sprinkles tumeric on things to make them ready to eat. And Celina made some kind of mango-mint juice-water which was refreshing and delicious. It reminded me of melon water from Mexico, where they basically liquify a cantaloupe for your taste buds’ enjoyment. Slightly sweet, but not too sweet. We then sat on the balcony and chit chatted while Dante used some cars to have races in the living room. He has upgraded from just lining them up like he used to.
After that, I went back to the train station. Dante was sleeping in the backseat and didn’t get to wish me goodbye. On the train, my back was a bit sore, but I thought it was from the rough seat fabric rubbing on my back. I got home to find a raging sunburn on the left side of my back (how does this happen, just one-sided sunburns when I was fully accessible to the sun’s burning power?!). Also, on my right foot. Not the left foot. Just the right (?!).
Rocío later informed me, via email, that Dante was crying and upset that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
Saturday morning, we went to the open air market next door to their home. It was huge, just like the other one I remember from my time in Alicante. They have booths selling fresh fruit, veggies, bread, olives, candy, shoes, socks, etc. We bought Dante some new “summer shoes” and some fresh produce. Win win!
We then dropped off the groceries and walked to the city center. I checked my email at a local locutorio because I needed to check the name of a 7 Camicie shirt style that my dad wanted. Let’s dedicate a paragraph to the Locutorio. These places are a technology go-to, like a Kinko’s but with phone booths and pay-by-the-minute computers (checking my email, for 3 minutes, cost 15 cents). There were practically no lights in this one, which added to the creep factor that is already inherent in a darkly-lit computer place. There are video cameras on the computers to use video chat, but I would never have a personal conversation in a public place like this. There were only men in there, and just thinking about men using computers in a corner shop instead of the ones at home just creeps me out, because the only reason you would use a shady place like this in your hometown is for shady business. I used hand sanitizer on my way out.
7Camicie, by the way, didn't have the shirt. All their stores are really small and have about 12 shirts of each size, all in different colors. There is no double of a shirt, even in another size. You like a design but it's not in your size? TOO BAD! That's all they have! What a horrible business concept.
We went to lunch at an Italian restaurant, where Dante went down the hallway where the bathrooms were and claimed there was no men’s room. He came back almost immediately, telling the whole restaurant of people (only with about 6 people at the time) “Mommy! There isn’t a men’s room. There is only a door with the lady in a dress on it.” Rocío just smiled and said “Okay, then go in the women’s restroom. If anyone says anything, just say your mommy said it was okay.” Later, I went to the bathroom and saw the men’s door was wide open, making it hard to see the men’s bathroom sticker on the door.
Then we had ice cream at Pinnochio, then cupcakes at Las Manolitas (and I bought some to bring to Cristina and her family). That cupcake place is so adorable. Though, I think that is a requirement for cupcake places.
We then played at the park, and Dante immediately made a new friend, Hugo. Rocío pointed out a homeless family (she has seen them sleeping on the street) whose mom was pregnant. The mom and dad were surrounded by their five kids. Rocío told me the last time she saw them, they had four kids and the mom was pregnant. She was a bit frustrated that the mom kept having children when she was bringing them up in that situation of living on the street and begging for food. Silly me asked how that woman could even give birth on the streets and have the kids survive, as Rocío informed me that their health system here allows anyone and everyone to enter a hospital for “free” health care (in quotation marks because obviously there is a cost). We then went to the outdoor aquarium (in the middle of a park), then took the bus home.
We then went to the mall, where Rocío’s friend works at the kids zone. She met this woman because she also has a pug; hers is named Butch. Lola and Butch are friends. The kids zone area of the mall is like, the greatest idea I have ever seen. It is a play area with a ball pit, climbing wall, table with coloring supplies, TV with cartoons on (with bean bag chair sitting area), etc. You drop off your kid for an hour, free, and pick him/her up an hour later, so you can shop without the “Mommy, I want this!” ordeal that comes with shopping with children. FREE. And there are about five supervisors/nannys that watch the kids. There was also this special area that changes month to month (that way your kid never refuses to go to the play area because there is always something new) and this month it was an inflatable planetarium. It was a giant black dome made out of that inflatable fabric that they make those jump castles out of. And inside it was glow in the dark stars or something. Dante didn’t want to go, but later during dinner, he shared that he was upset that he chose not to go in the planetarium and wanted to go before it was gone.
 |
| This is an inflatable planetarium. I wish I knew what it looked like inside. |
Meanwhile, Rocío and I walked around the mall, and in Oysho (bra store) they were playing “Million Dollar Man” by Lana del Rey. I love that song. I told Rocío about Lana’s backstory, being that she was well known on the blogosphere before her “coming out” on Saturday Night Live this year, where she was awful and got ripped apart by the critics. But then she made up for it by being much much better at other live performances. So we walk into the next store, Pull & Bear, and they are playing “Born to Die” remix (by Lana del Rey). I was like “Weird, this is the same artist!” We walk out, go into Bershka and “Blue Jeans” is playing (again, by Lana del Rey). Rocío told me they must play this music when I enter any store. I don’t know, but I LIKE IT. I ended up buying two shirts at Bershka. I cannot get enough of that store...I think anything and everything I have bought for myself here in Spain has been from Bershka.
We then headed home and Dante and I watched Cars 2. It was a pirated version they bought on the street, and it was a Russian version dubbed in Venezuelan Spanish. Any and all text was in Russian, so newspaper headlines were just gibberish me. The dubbing was in Spanish, but Rocío pointed out that it was Venezuelan. I asked how, and she said their accents were different and some phrases changed. Like instead of saying “de nada” for “you´re welcome”, they said “eso no es nada.” I find it fascinating that for basically the same language, they dub a movie so many different times for each country. Can you imagine (if we bothered to dub movies, which we usually don’t) having a British English, American English, Australian English, Irish English and Scottish English version? And Canadian English? It seems like wasted effort.
Then, at dinner, Rocío shared that we were going to the beach tomorrow (Sunday) and, in the cutest and most seemingly scripted event of the weekend, Dante perked up, got out of his chair and ran to Rocío saying “Oh Mommy thank you! Thank you so much!” and smothering her in kisses and hugs. Just for going to the beach. In a town that is located on the beach.
Later, when Rocío took Lola out for a walk and said “I´ll be right back,” Dante just said “okay” and continued eating his dinner. For me, this was a big deal. Two years ago, when Rocío would leave for just a tiny itty bitty bit of time, Dante would start wailing and running through the house crying for his mommy. Now he is all grown up, not even drifting his eyes from his dinner plate, as he says ”Okay.” I almost teared up right there. There was a box of cookies on the table, and there was a contest on the back to win a trip for four to London for a weekend. Therefore, there was a picture of Big Ben. Dante, very seriously, told me “You know where I got these cookies? There, that city right there. “ “London? You went to London for these cookies?” “Yes. I took a train.” That would be quite the train ride. Before you say that it’s impossible, there is a Paris-London train that goes underwater. Still, it would be a bit excessive. So I said, “Oh really, and what is that clock right there called?” “It doesn’t have a name. It is just a clock.”
Then, as I was reading before bed, I saw a cockroach out of the corner of my eye, scurry across the floor, leading Rocío to spray the entire room with spray, shutting the window (so they couldn’t enter from the garden below the window), and exiling me temporarily to the living room for a half hour while the spray mist cleared. Then I was sweating the entire night with no breeze through the window and in fear of another cockroach crawling on my sleeping face.
We got up the next morning, I packed up my stuff, and we drove (30 min) to San Juan beach where her Brazilian friend lives (she's the wife of a coworker of Rocío’s). Rocío's close friends Lluvy (sp?) and Suyin are both Cuban, and the former is in Cuba temporarily to keep her nationality and Suyin is living in Italy with her German boyfriend. There is a lot of cultural mingling here. Unfortunately, Rocío hasn’t seen her friends in a really long time, leaving her to be a bit lonely. I think she sees this Brazilian friend, Celina, about once a week now. Celina paints as a hobby, so she has all these little art works around her apartment, which Rocío said “is like a museum.” It is just so cool and filled with fun stuff. Every corner of the house is decorated. The hallway has dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, the bathroom has colored soaps and a unique bath rug, the living room has bongo drums and the tiny balcony has three chairs, a rainbow windsock, wooden wind chimes, and a celestial-themed hanging decoration. And a rainbow rooster weather vane. It’s just a collection of the coolest most random things. I love it. Rocío is just the kind of person who has Brazilian museum-house friends.
We went to the beach first, where Dante and I built sand castles and hopped the waves (without going too deep in the water because Dante was scared). By the time we went back to Celina’s apartment, I was starving, and Celina had prepared us homemade gnocchi with homemade pasta sauce. I was ravenous, and this was soooo goood. There was also a big salad with beets and cheese and sprouts and all sort of stuff, and Rocío sprinkled some yellow spice on it which I later found was tumeric. I have heard of it, but I don’t think I have ever had it before. Rocío is just the kind of person who sprinkles tumeric on things to make them ready to eat. And Celina made some kind of mango-mint juice-water which was refreshing and delicious. It reminded me of melon water from Mexico, where they basically liquify a cantaloupe for your taste buds’ enjoyment. Slightly sweet, but not too sweet. We then sat on the balcony and chit chatted while Dante used some cars to have races in the living room. He has upgraded from just lining them up like he used to.
 |
| Dante dancin' on San Juan beach |
 |
| I like the hands-on-the-hips look. |
 |
| On Celina's balcony |
 |
| Dante made odd faces in every picture we took. This was the best one. |
After that, I went back to the train station. Dante was sleeping in the backseat and didn’t get to wish me goodbye. On the train, my back was a bit sore, but I thought it was from the rough seat fabric rubbing on my back. I got home to find a raging sunburn on the left side of my back (how does this happen, just one-sided sunburns when I was fully accessible to the sun’s burning power?!). Also, on my right foot. Not the left foot. Just the right (?!).
Rocío later informed me, via email, that Dante was crying and upset that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Catch me if you can!
Saturday I was caught for stealing.
Although, I wasn´t stealing. But the security guard sure thought I was. He was intent on catching me.
Well, I was Christmas shopping (and because of that, I can´t be too specific here since the recipients of the gifts may be reading). It was Saturday evening, and I was shopping on Calle Colon, a street in Valencia just lined with tons of money-spending opportunities.
Later that night I had plans to go out to dinner with my host mom and her friends (a story planned for another post) and Cristina said she´d call me around 9:30pm. It was about 9pm at the time I walked into store XYZ (see, you aren´t going to squeeze Christmas present details outta me), intending to buy a thingamajig for youknowwho. I was obviously in a hurry, since it was busy and I saw the lines were long. But before I went to get the thingamajig in the thingamajig section of the store, I went over to the tiny objects part of the store to look at the different things the store had to offer. I was picking things up, putting them back. I was reading the labels of the tiny objects and putting them back. Then I was like “hey, I need to go get that thingamajig.” I went up the stairs of the store then once I reached the top, I realized I didn´t know what color I should get, so I decided to leave since I only had 20 minutes left to visit store ABC to buy a whatchamacallit for thatotherperson.
So I didn´t run, but sort of shuffled by quickly, down the stairs, through the crowds of people, and out the door.
But then the security guy stopped me before I left. He asked to see my shopping bag first. I showed him my bag, which contained a gift that my mom asked me to get for my 2nd cousin. He took the receipt out of the bag, looked at the contents of the purchase, looked in the bag to make sure it matched the purchase, and was like “okay, this is from Pull & Bear (the name of the store)” as he put the receipt and gift back into the bag.
Then he asked to see my purse. Since I didn´t steal anything, I gladly opened up my purse for his examination. He started taking things out and putting them back in, like my sunglasses, my wallet, my pack of gum, searching for this object that he was certain that I took (probably from the tiny objects section I was in before). Then he found my solid perfume, which looks like a lip gloss tin, and pulled it out. He was like “Is this from here?” And I was like “No, it´s from a store called Anthropologie that I bought in the United States.” (if I wanted, I could´ve showed him the sticker on the back which even said “Anthropologie” and the price, which was in dollars. If that doesn´t say “I was bought in the USA” I don´t know what does.) He looked around some more, finding nothing, then I was dismissed.
I swear he had a look of disappointment at the fact that he couldn´t find anything.
And I walked out, and of course didn´t set off the alarms, since I didn´t steal anything.
But I could see why he probably thought I did. I was rushing through the store, running past crowds of people to get to where I wanted to be, but that´s just me...I don´t want to lollygag behind these giant clusters of people blocking my path. I have money to spend here, people!
Also, it was chilly and my hands were cold from walking inside, so when I was looking at the tiny objects section, I´d stick my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. So it probably looked like I was stealing those tiny objects. But the thing was, he never checked my pockets, which is where I could easily have stolen things. Oh well.
But I had time to rush over to store ABC and get the whatchamacallit for thatotherperson. As I was waiting in line, Cristina called to say she had left the house and was on her way to pick me up. Perfect timing.
Today I was at OpenCor, kind of like a Walgreens pharmacy minus the pharmacy part, and as I was walking around the store, I swear that the security guard was following me. Now I think I'm either paranoid (even though I have nothing to hide) or maybe there is something about the way I look that screams "Hey, look at me! I'm gonna rob you blind!"
Although, I wasn´t stealing. But the security guard sure thought I was. He was intent on catching me.
Well, I was Christmas shopping (and because of that, I can´t be too specific here since the recipients of the gifts may be reading). It was Saturday evening, and I was shopping on Calle Colon, a street in Valencia just lined with tons of money-spending opportunities.
Later that night I had plans to go out to dinner with my host mom and her friends (a story planned for another post) and Cristina said she´d call me around 9:30pm. It was about 9pm at the time I walked into store XYZ (see, you aren´t going to squeeze Christmas present details outta me), intending to buy a thingamajig for youknowwho. I was obviously in a hurry, since it was busy and I saw the lines were long. But before I went to get the thingamajig in the thingamajig section of the store, I went over to the tiny objects part of the store to look at the different things the store had to offer. I was picking things up, putting them back. I was reading the labels of the tiny objects and putting them back. Then I was like “hey, I need to go get that thingamajig.” I went up the stairs of the store then once I reached the top, I realized I didn´t know what color I should get, so I decided to leave since I only had 20 minutes left to visit store ABC to buy a whatchamacallit for thatotherperson.
So I didn´t run, but sort of shuffled by quickly, down the stairs, through the crowds of people, and out the door.
But then the security guy stopped me before I left. He asked to see my shopping bag first. I showed him my bag, which contained a gift that my mom asked me to get for my 2nd cousin. He took the receipt out of the bag, looked at the contents of the purchase, looked in the bag to make sure it matched the purchase, and was like “okay, this is from Pull & Bear (the name of the store)” as he put the receipt and gift back into the bag.
Then he asked to see my purse. Since I didn´t steal anything, I gladly opened up my purse for his examination. He started taking things out and putting them back in, like my sunglasses, my wallet, my pack of gum, searching for this object that he was certain that I took (probably from the tiny objects section I was in before). Then he found my solid perfume, which looks like a lip gloss tin, and pulled it out. He was like “Is this from here?” And I was like “No, it´s from a store called Anthropologie that I bought in the United States.” (if I wanted, I could´ve showed him the sticker on the back which even said “Anthropologie” and the price, which was in dollars. If that doesn´t say “I was bought in the USA” I don´t know what does.) He looked around some more, finding nothing, then I was dismissed.
I swear he had a look of disappointment at the fact that he couldn´t find anything.
And I walked out, and of course didn´t set off the alarms, since I didn´t steal anything.
But I could see why he probably thought I did. I was rushing through the store, running past crowds of people to get to where I wanted to be, but that´s just me...I don´t want to lollygag behind these giant clusters of people blocking my path. I have money to spend here, people!
Also, it was chilly and my hands were cold from walking inside, so when I was looking at the tiny objects section, I´d stick my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. So it probably looked like I was stealing those tiny objects. But the thing was, he never checked my pockets, which is where I could easily have stolen things. Oh well.
But I had time to rush over to store ABC and get the whatchamacallit for thatotherperson. As I was waiting in line, Cristina called to say she had left the house and was on her way to pick me up. Perfect timing.
Today I was at OpenCor, kind of like a Walgreens pharmacy minus the pharmacy part, and as I was walking around the store, I swear that the security guard was following me. Now I think I'm either paranoid (even though I have nothing to hide) or maybe there is something about the way I look that screams "Hey, look at me! I'm gonna rob you blind!"
Feliz Cumpleaños!
It was Cristina´s birthday on Dec. 14th, so she made tiramisu the night before so she could bring it to work.
Let me ask you one thing: Why the hell isn’t everyone in the world making tiramisu every freaking day to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner? It’s so easy to make and sooooooooooooo good.
She had her husband brew the coffee before she got home from work so it would have time to cool to room temperature. And when I say coffee, I really mean “a bowl of 20 espressos.”
If you are familiar with tiramisu and how it’s made, then you won’t be surprised with the description below. If you aren’t familiar and you think “tiramisu? Sounds fancy!” then you will be surprised.
First she separated about 10 eggs (the yolk in one bowl and white in another). She whipped the egg whites (and maybe cream?) until it was nice and fluffy, and in the yolk bowl she added the sugar. Then she lightly mixed the two together.
Then she took cookies (thin ones, like graham cracker style) and dipped them in the coffee and made a layer of cookies in a tupperware container. Then she topped it with the fluffy white cream stuff. Then another coffee-soaked cookies layer. Then fluffy white stuff. And she kept layering until the container was full, making sure the top layer was fluffy white stuff. Then she sprinkled some Colacao (kind of like Nesquik) powder on top (usually it´s done with cocoa powder, but she likes this because it´s sweeter), and stuck the lid on and put it in the freezer. An hour or more later, you have tiramisu to enjoy.
No cooking. That´s it. And it is delicious.
I went to a cute little papelería near our house, which is a stationery shop. But it´s so cute and it has all sorts of things like books, greeting cards, wrapping paper, stickers, jewelry, pencils, notepads, notebooks, bookends, kids´ toys, backpacks, a small clothing selection, and so much more crammed into this tiny little shop. It reminded me of this little basque shoe store in San Sebastián that was so much like the magic wand shop in Harry Potter, with boxes stacked from floor to ceiling. But this stationery shop was a little bigger, and the little old ladies who work there are adorable and know exactly where everything is, despite the place looking like it was filled with things that couldn´t fit in your junk drawer. Someone came in and asked for an English book for toddlers. The lady ran over to the overstuffed bookshelf that seems to have no rhyme or reason and went straight to the back of the second shelf from the top to find just what the customer was looking for. How do you remember stuff like that?!
After moseying around a bit, I found a cute little card that simply said “felicitades” and the book The Help, which in Spanish is called “Criadas y Señoras” (Nannies and Madams). My host mom reads the same authors and books as my real mom, so I thought this book that my (real) mom loved so much would be equally enjoyed by my host mom.
Then, for free, they wrapped the book with a pretty green paper and put a nice silver ribbon on it with stickers. They took the utmost care to make sure it looked pretty.
My host mom enjoyed it, and I explained how my mom liked this book so she probably would, too. She said she saw a commercial once for the movie, and saw it was based on a book, but didn´t want to see it until she read the book. So she was glad to have the chance now.
Let me ask you one thing: Why the hell isn’t everyone in the world making tiramisu every freaking day to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner? It’s so easy to make and sooooooooooooo good.
She had her husband brew the coffee before she got home from work so it would have time to cool to room temperature. And when I say coffee, I really mean “a bowl of 20 espressos.”
If you are familiar with tiramisu and how it’s made, then you won’t be surprised with the description below. If you aren’t familiar and you think “tiramisu? Sounds fancy!” then you will be surprised.
First she separated about 10 eggs (the yolk in one bowl and white in another). She whipped the egg whites (and maybe cream?) until it was nice and fluffy, and in the yolk bowl she added the sugar. Then she lightly mixed the two together.
Then she took cookies (thin ones, like graham cracker style) and dipped them in the coffee and made a layer of cookies in a tupperware container. Then she topped it with the fluffy white cream stuff. Then another coffee-soaked cookies layer. Then fluffy white stuff. And she kept layering until the container was full, making sure the top layer was fluffy white stuff. Then she sprinkled some Colacao (kind of like Nesquik) powder on top (usually it´s done with cocoa powder, but she likes this because it´s sweeter), and stuck the lid on and put it in the freezer. An hour or more later, you have tiramisu to enjoy.
No cooking. That´s it. And it is delicious.
I went to a cute little papelería near our house, which is a stationery shop. But it´s so cute and it has all sorts of things like books, greeting cards, wrapping paper, stickers, jewelry, pencils, notepads, notebooks, bookends, kids´ toys, backpacks, a small clothing selection, and so much more crammed into this tiny little shop. It reminded me of this little basque shoe store in San Sebastián that was so much like the magic wand shop in Harry Potter, with boxes stacked from floor to ceiling. But this stationery shop was a little bigger, and the little old ladies who work there are adorable and know exactly where everything is, despite the place looking like it was filled with things that couldn´t fit in your junk drawer. Someone came in and asked for an English book for toddlers. The lady ran over to the overstuffed bookshelf that seems to have no rhyme or reason and went straight to the back of the second shelf from the top to find just what the customer was looking for. How do you remember stuff like that?!
After moseying around a bit, I found a cute little card that simply said “felicitades” and the book The Help, which in Spanish is called “Criadas y Señoras” (Nannies and Madams). My host mom reads the same authors and books as my real mom, so I thought this book that my (real) mom loved so much would be equally enjoyed by my host mom.
Then, for free, they wrapped the book with a pretty green paper and put a nice silver ribbon on it with stickers. They took the utmost care to make sure it looked pretty.
My host mom enjoyed it, and I explained how my mom liked this book so she probably would, too. She said she saw a commercial once for the movie, and saw it was based on a book, but didn´t want to see it until she read the book. So she was glad to have the chance now.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Rhymes with Orange
I don't know if I mentioned this, but we had TWO holidays this week.
No one worked/had school on Tuesday and Thursday.
Tuesday was the Constitution day, and Thursday was the day of Immaculate Conception.
Neither day contained really any kind of exciting events, although the footage they showed of Madrid on the news for Thursday made it look like it's their own little Black Friday, where everyone starts Christmas shopping.
On Tuesday, Pichon (my host dad's nickname)'s aunts and uncles came over for lunch. They brought their four kids, too, which ranged from 8 to 17 years old.
We had a feast of arroz (what we call paella), patatas bravas, roasted chicken, and of course bread.
After that, Cristina said "We're going to go orange picking...wanna come?"
OF COURSE.
Cristina's dad owns an orange orchard in Castellon, which is about a 40 minute drive from here. All of us (including their relatives) hopped in three cars and drove to the orchard.
We brought crates and those reusable grocery bags and went to town.
The kids were really excited to be there. They started out eating everything they picked. Lucas became our personal tree taste-tester, eating oranges off different trees and telling us which ones were sweet or bitter.
It was nice and quiet since obviously it was just us (there were maybe 13 of us) in this huge field. And there were SO MANY ORANGES:
I would go off on my own and the kids would try looking for me but had a hard time unless we played Marco Polo: "Melissa?" "Aqui!" "Melissa?" "Aqui!" "Melissa?" "Aqui!!!"
After a while, the kids grew weary of actually picking oranges. They also probably were stuffed from eating so many. So while the adults continued hunting for perfect fruits, the kids started playing hide-and-seek in between the trees, or even under them, since they are so low to the ground. They are very dense, so it's easy to hide behind the trees. One of the aunts started barking like a dog so the kids thought there actually was a dog running around. Once they realized it was her, it morphed into a strange animal-themed game of Marco Polo:
In the end, Lucas and Lucia probably ate 10 oranges each.
And we got a LOT of oranges to take home with us...
At the end of the adventure, one of Pichon's aunts found two snails and gave one each to Lucia and Lucas. They were so excited.
However, they complained that the snails were "broken" because they wouldn't leave their shells. Lucas even started singing to his (there is a popular children's song about snails, or caracoles). On the way home, Lucia's started crawling around, leaving a slime trail behind, which Lucia referred to as "snot."
It was SO MUCH FUN.
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