Wow its been awhile. Time sure does fly. Being in Spain has been a little like summer- camp with classes. Before I left I was a little nervous, feeling like I might miss out on good times at home- but now I don’t want to leave. Just like summer camp. Like my mom likes to tell my friends, “OH, he used to cry when we dropped him off at camp ‘cause he didn’t want to go, then again when we picked him up ‘cause he didn’t want to leave”. Thanks mom. At least this time I can say I’m not crying. And I’ll be back soon...
A lot has happened since my last post- but my mind is so jumbled. That time is all a blur of late nights falling asleep on books, early morning aggression towards my alarm, and coffee to keep me going. My spanish classes / ‘get-made-fun-of-for-my-bad-spanish’ times / dinners in my host family are numbered. I’m beginning to feel bad about leaving my host family- it seems like 3 months is the perfect amount of time to really start calling a place home. Just when I was getting comfortable...
So one night at our ‘dinner’, which is also our Spanish class, my roommate Max and I were doing the usual; stuffing our faces only to be told to eat more by our host-mother Mercedes, straining my ears to understand what she’s saying, and stuttering largely incoherent responses. This particular night we were eating, para el segundo plato, espaghettis con jamon y salsa de queso. If you’re hungry reading this like I am writing this you might be drooling... like I am... So we’re enjoying the food, talking, laughing at our broken spanish and funny mistakes. Max mentions how good the pasta is while serving himself some more, scraping the last out of the large bowl. Mercedes says it happens to be Anna’s favorite. Good thing Anna wasn’t there so we didn’t have to share...
Right? Minutes later we hear a key turn in the door. Max and I know what happened right away, and our concerned eye contact tells the whole story. Anna slowly opens the door and walks into the kitchen. Max’s face is an expressive mixture of shock, guilt, and the loud, prolonged screaming of an obscenity I need not write here. You can imagine. We look at each other awkwardly as Anna walks into her room off the kitchen to drop off her stuff. We wait like death-row inmates, sure of her return looking for her favorite pasta.
The sound of the door shutting behind her was complimented by a long sigh of relief from each Max and I. Mercedes by now noticed our concern and certainly heard our sigh. She explained she only cooked for us because she knew Anna would eat before coming home. When we explained our thought process to her she could not stop laughing. I wish I could describe the sound of her laugh but its just too funny to express in writing. Use your imagination though, a lot of imagination, and you’ll probably get close.
She laughs a lot actually. I’m going to kind of miss it, even though most of the time its at me for unknowingly saying something ridiculous in Spanish. She has been a great host mother and I can’t wait to see her next semester. She even bought us scarves as going away presents. Somehow I couldn’t find one I liked in three months of looking, but I really like the one she got me.
I mentioned I’m NOT crying right? Not yet... Hopefully I can hang in there the next three days.
P.S. One final left!
