Dear Freddie,

This bog is dedicated to you. You would love Spain. The caramel macchiatos are three times the size of those in the U.S., they come with at least a pound of caramel on top, and they always serve them in a real glass (none of those cheap to-go-cups). Also, if you thought the U.S. was bad: I’m sitting at Starbucks right now (listening to Sinatra of course!) and I can see another Starbucks down the street. If I walked the 200 meters there, I would be able to see the third Starbucks around the corner.

You know the phrase “The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.” I’ve decided that the phrase needs to be altered just a bit. The rain in Spain falls, no rather pours with wind and frigid temperatures (think hurricane)…everywhere in Spain… all the time. Well, not all the time. We are kind of playing a game. It is called, when I leave the house, it is perfectly sunny, 5 minutes later, after putting on my new shoes and leaving all rain gear in the house, it starts pouring. It is even more fun if I’ve just rented a bike because who doesn’t love rain whipping in your face at twice the speed? Even on days when I come prepared, my umbrella is from the United States and apparently it was built to withstand wind speed of up to 0 mph. It is constantly in a sort of inside-out state and, like all umbrellas I have ever owned, there is one arm that just hangs. I am hesitant to buy a new one because it matches my rain coat and my boots.

Beyond the freakish weather that every native claims is completely out of the ordinary, there are a few other ordinary things that really surprised me in Spain.

1. Every lady wears heels.

2. Everyone walks at least 5 miles a day. (Including heel-ladies)

3. Potatoes and beans are considered vegetables

4. Dogs wear sweaters- and not just the Paris Hilton companions

5. I just saw my first “persona gorda”

6. People don’t stop for cars and cars don’t stop for people. Luckily I learned the basics from American parents.

7. You can’t buy stamps at the post office.

8. A Spanish man will call anyone “guapa”. You will be charmed the first time, the second time, and probably even the third time. Then you will realize that he has used the same line on all of your friends, the old lady next to you and the bartender. Also, it is a compliment if someone calls you “fea” (or so I was told)

9. I just heard the “persona gorda” speak. She is American.

10. Besitos are a way of life.

I realized yesterday that I have already been here a month. In some ways I feel like I just arrived, but in other ways, I feel very accustom to the city. We decided we were past the tourist phase when we stopped choosing bars with a presence in my guide book, and started choosing bars with a presence of toilet paper in the girl’s bathroom. I love the night life here. Dinner: 9:30, nap: 10:30, hit the town: 11:30, discoteca: 2:00, chocolate con churros: 5:00, sleep: 6:00. It is ridiculous.

I am moving to a new senora tonight. I know nothing about her- the director told me but the only words I caught were dog, cot, and hippie. I bought a pretty awesome hippie scarf since being here, so I think I should fit right in. We are moving because Inca finally reached the point of unbearable. Let me try to put things into perspective.

Monday night, I had just gotten to work, and I was giving besitos all around. After greeting my boss, he looked at me with interest and inquired if I had been to the Tex-Mex place down the street. Of course I had been there! I got so excited telling him about how I went Saturday night… and they showed our UNC- NC State basketball game…and we took over the bar with Americans… and then we all sang our fight song when we won! He simply looked at me and said, “yea, well you smell like it”. Ouch.

Inca hasn’t done my laundry in 2 ½ weeks. She said it was because it has been raining. I’m pretty sure it is impossible to rain every moment of every day for 2 ½ weeks. I was going to just let this roll off my back. I mean, I still have clothes to wear because I was able to pack so much in my one under-fifty pound suitcase. Unfortunately, she pulled the last straw. I had been wearing the same pants ever since she had originally taken the dirty clothes from our room, so I decided to switch it up and wear leggings and a skirt. I have been wearing leggings and a skirt for the last 3 days now. Inca came into our room and collected my pants from the floor of the closet to add them to her secret stash of our dirty clothes in her locked corner of the house. Thank you Inca, now I’m cold, smelly, and sick. We are moving TONIGHT.

There are a few other token Inca stories, but I think I will save them for when I talk to you all in person. Plus, I think this blog has been rambling on for quite awhile, and I understand that everyone has a life beyond my pathetic plight in Espana.

Adios, hasta luego, y besitos.

Abril