mas o menos

Thursday was a long day after staying up too late the night before, and having class and meetings to go to and not enough time for a siesta. We ate patatas with some sauce they called spicy, but it really just had a slight smoked flavor to it but it was the closest thing to a baked potato I've seen. I tried to go to bed early, but of course didn't, and struggled in class the next day. During our break, my teacher came back to the room with a cafe con leche and said "you really need this." What a nice lady. The coffee concept is much different here. In the states, you sip on your coffee for a long time, it is large, you take it with you, and everyone has a slight different preference. Here, you get a cafe con leche, which is the most standard coffee, in a maybe 2 inch tall tiny glass that is half full with a shot of coffee, the rest warm milk, and served with a spoon and sugar packet. You drink it really quickly, give the glass back since it is glass, and go on your merry way. If you want a bigger, watery coffee, you ask for cafe Americano. Funny. I do love cafe con leches, and they are usually 2 euros or less. Much better than the watery starbucks prices. Just another thing I am afraid I am going to come back to the states snobby about. I hope not.

We had our first run in with the laundry aspect of Spain. The washing machine is located in the kitchen, and can hold maaaaaybe one pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sock. I wish I was kidding. It also doesn't spin the clothes for you afterwards, or maybe it does and we can't figure it out, so the 3 items you put in there come out soaking wet. But here is the best part: you then get to line dry them. Hanging out the window with clothes pins and putting clothes on a line is so out of our norm that you just have to laugh. And if something falls down, you nicely ask the doorman to go get your stiff laundry. Good thing we love our doorman.

My friend from home Jackie came over last night and we made snacks and hung out before we all went out for the night. We went to two different grocery stores looking for things and the second grocery store was not happy at all that we brought in bags from another grocery store. This involved yelling in spanish. Each time I have gotten in trouble with a spaniard where they yell at me, I have always been with someone who knows that they are saying and can respond. Can't wait for when that happens when I'm alone and I just cry and run away because I don't know what's going on. We took the metro to a cafe/restaurant/bar and had cafe con leche while waiting for our friends. Went to bed around 6 am last night, the spanish lifestyle calls for no sleep and I'm doing my best to keep up. It is definitely a struggle.