Hortz and T-day

First off, happy Thanksgiving! I hope you are all thankful for something this year.

Second, I have to share... many signs in Pamplona for various businesses are written in Spanish as well as Basque. The language is spoken frequently. In fact, the school I teach at is Basque. Anyhow, sometimes I get a kick out of reading both and realizing what certain words are in Basque because of the Spanish sign.

My favorite, by far, one that always makes me laugh is the word for dentist. There are lots of "Clinica Dental"s around in each pueblo. As you probably guessed, this means Dental Clinic. The word for clinic in Basque is simple enough, "Klinika." But the word for dental is a kick in the pants... "hortz." Hortz klinika. So, when basque people go to the dentist do they say, "I have an appointment with the hortz"? Isn't that hilarious? To me, it sounds like an old Jewish man. Isaiah Hortz. Anyhow, I just wanted to share.

In otehr news, I'll be having a proper thanks giving this year. Last year was fun, but no turkey. This year, I ordered a turkey from the butcher, which I'm rather proud of, and will be having around 10 people over to the apartment, a few Americans, Canadians and some English. It'll be great. Did you know they have thanksgiving in Canada? It's a different date that our though. I always thought it was a celebration of a day of peace between pilgrims and native americans. I don't think Canada has native americans... ha. Plus, we're having English people... shouldn't they be sort of mad about thanksgiving? I mean, we broke from them. But, technically, english people probably had the first thanksgiving on American soil, as they were the pilgrims. We will be quite historical. Not to mention, Iñaki, the only Spaniard coming. He will be representative of Columbus.

Anyhow, I have a class in one minute, so I better go. Happy thanksgiving and I'll see you all soon!

Halloween pics

Hi dudes!

Here are some shots of my lovely Halloween that caused me to lose my voice which has yet to return in full force...

I was Harry Potter.
Iñaki was a Pimp-pire. So, a cross between a pimp and a vampire. He has this obsession with pimps lately, maybe that should worry me... my head is so tiny in this picture.This is my new friend Kait. She´s an art major and did her own zombie makeup, great huh?This is one of the bars we were in. As you can see, most people do not wear costumes.Irene and Iñaki dancing til they drop.
And that was about it, we went home shortly after this. But it was really fun. I got my hair cut the other day and here´s the picture... I think I´m really going to like it, but I have some more experimentting to do with it. I´m feeling a bit better about the whole basketball thing. I always do when we win, whcih we did last night. Send me positive thoughts for this week so I can stay positive!

Like stretching a balloon over a cowboy hat

I know sometimes this blog is used for complaining... now again. Sometimes it's just nice to put my gripes in writing for everyone to see and possibly relate to.

It's Saturday afternoon around 1 o'clock here. We had Thursday and Friday mostly free for all saints day on Thursday. I had a kick ass Halloween and went out with a bunch of American students and Inaki and Irene plus the usuals. No one really dresses in costumes here, but I dressed as Harry Potter. It was a good one. I can't upload pics to my computer, but I'll post when Inaki gets home with his compy. Anyhow, a great time was had by all.

Thursday, I decided not to do anything. It was great, but at the same time, there were so many things looming in my future and things that needed to be done, that it was hard to enjoy. Friday, I got my hair cut, shorter than I've had for years. I love it by the way. It's basiclly the same I had during the summer but shorter.

Here's where the stretching too thin comes in... I had to coach a practice and then play in a practice last night. After, my team had a cena, so I went to that, which I didn't want to, but for some reason they all seem so offended if I'm not there to check in with every 20 minutes and yell short phrases to in English. I have to read a 23 page unit and try to get it done by tomorrow and clean the apartment still. I had to get up and be at a basketball game today to coach, but I didn't really want to. I took about an hour for me time after the game, but now I need to get all my stuff done before I play in my game tonight and am expected to go out with the team after and don't want to.

It's just so hard to say no to all these things and when I don't, I'm just angry to be where I am. I don't feel like playing hoops really anymore. I just feel angry during practice and no one works hard which makes me not work hard and then I suck, which makes me work even less hard. I know, I'm being a victim and should play hard all the time.

I feel resentful that I have to coach as well. I'm pissed that there are a million things that I'm not doing for me and just continue to be places for other people. I dunno.

I'm no saint, these things that I'm doing should be fun and I should enjoy them. I'm just not. I'm not sure how to get it back. I am pretty happy teaching and am enjoying getting to know all the little kids and going to my spanish classes. But the bball is on my nerves. I don't know how I'm gonna make it through the year, but I have to. I can't just quit. What do you guys at home think? Gimme some advice if you have a momento.

Other than these little annoyances, I am well. I need to do more creative posting for sure. Entries wander through my mind all the time and I forget to put them in. Like cute little moments from my classes. A positive: the kids I'm teaching are sometimes fabulous. There's one group of 7 year olds that really likes me and the last time I went into their classroom, they bowed at my feet and chanted "Darby". As I've said to a few people, everyone should be greeted like that once a week. A little girl from one of my 9 year old groups made me a gimp key chain that is actually really cool. Another little boy from that group freaks out every time he sees me and runs up and hugs me and yells "Darby!" like he can't believe that I really exist. Once he ran up and hugged me and a huge group of kids followed him and we had a big group hug before I left for the day. And as I walk down the halls in school all the kids say, "Hello, Darby, hello Darby, hello..." These are the little perks that make my job great. I think it's amazing how little the language you speak has to do with a positive teaching experience. Silliness, smiles and high fives are universal.

Okay, enough saying how great I am. I hope all is well at home and the fall is treating you to calm cozy evenings. One of my favorite quotes about the fall, possibly the only one I know, is when Tom Hanks says he'd like to send Meg Ryan a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils as the first orange leaves start appearing in "You've Got Mail." Well have a great day and go sharpen some pencils.

A busy month

Hi everyone!

I´m so sorry I´ve dropped off the face of the earth for a month. Thanks for all the well wishes on my birthday. I didn´t do much, just laid around and watched season five of the Gilmore Girls. I needed it, as I´ve been keeping a crazy schedule. My friends Jennifer and Katie also came over for dinner, so that was nice. Irene and Dori had me over for cake and lunch too. Iñaki was an all-star and got me a ton of cool stuff. My old dinosaur computer from GFU now has WiFi, so that´s cool.

Other than that, I hurt my back a bit a week or so ago, but it healed quickly. I should do a whole other blog on how Iosu stretched me out and the amount of awkwardness that occurred.

I´ve been teach-teach-teaching lately. I do my own lessons for the school and all my other classes, so it´s some great experience for the future. I teach grade levels 2-6 and have 2 business classes, two individual classes and various little groups of kids in Zizur. I have my biusiness classes early in the morning and then start at the school around 10 each day and finish at 1. Depending on the day, I have more classes for the acadamia or some of my own to teach in the afternoon. It´s so busy. It´s getting pretty hard to stay motivated to play hoops and I´m missing more practices than I ever have in life! But, I don´t really feel bad about it.

I´ll be home for Christmas for 3 weeks, woopie! Leaving here the 18th and coming back the 8th. I really need a recharge from home.

So, I want to show you all more of my apartment. I decided it will never be totally clean, so I´m just going to give you the actual tour instead of the cleaned up version.

This is me in my usual teaching garb. Inlingua is the acadamia I work for and they gave me a sweet bag! I bought this jacket for myself for my birthday, it´s super chulo, I think. And, as always, rockin´the iPod.
This is our kitchen door, which is pretty, so I wanted to show it. But, the actual kitchen really is too messy to show.This is the hallway as you come in the front door. We call the rug sort of thing on the wall to the left "the mop."Moving down the hallway to the left, here´s what you see...
The first two doors on the right are Iñaki and my bathrooms. His is the first, mine is the second. At times we refer to his as his office. On the left side, which you can´t really see, is the door to the first guest room, which is where I have all my teaching stuff and where we do our laundry. Here´s where the mess starts. Really, it´s a utility room, so it can be messy.
This next one is of the actual guest room at the end of the hall. It´s quite cute with twin beds and bright bedspreads, but has becaome our walk-in closet. Don´t worry, if you come visit, it´ll be nice again. We´re still having issues figuring out the huge japanese lantern that covers the light. It reminds me of that one Whit had in her room forever that she bought at a garage sale and probably ended up getting beaten down.Now, here is our room, which I love. It´s usually clean, and is true to form here.The bed´s low to the ground and has the phases of the moon on the headboard. That door leads out onto the terrace which you´ll see in a sec. This next one is of our cool closet on the other side of the room.Here is the fabulous view from our terrace and then a shot that looks back into our room from the terrace...And that´s your virtual tour! I hope it gives you a better idea of where I live. I better run because I need to plan my next lesson with two little 10 year old girls, classes for tomorrow and my practice for this evening with my team. We lost our first game by the way, but only by 122 and wee scored 38! Vast improvement from the 25 to 0 finish at the tournament. Love you all, and send me your updates!

Here I go...

I had my orientation for my job with the government working as a language assistant today. Things are about to get reallly really busy, but I'm excited. Lots of experience to soak up. I had a tournament with my girls team that I coach last Saturday and that was fun. We lost, but we got to know eachother. We're really pretty terrible at playing basketball, but good at being nice.

Not really anything new is occurring in my life now. And the thing is, now it is an actual life with a real job, so that's why it's getting boring. No time to travel too far, actual responsibility and people who count on me. I guess if that's the definition of life, I'd rather not have one, or at least a little less of one.

I've been sick lately, a cough I can't get rid of and sort of tired. I just can't seem to catch up. I'll have two solid days of sleeping in this weekend, which will be nice. Yeah, really I have nothing else to say. I hope all is well at home. Shout me a holla when you wanna.

In the business of Darby Cave

Holy wow! I've been trying for the last 6 months to make sure that I could stay in Spain and not worry about being able to feed myself. I've attempted to apply for about a million different legal ways of staying, all of which have fallen through. I decided to go out on my own and drum up some kids who want help with their English and that had started to roll, which was awesome until I was walking down the street Monday morning and was stopped by the boss of an acadamia here that I had interviewed with at the beginning of August. I was listening to my iPod and she literally had to grab me to get my attention. She said, "Darby, it's me Isabel, I think I have a class for you to teach." And we walked over to her office and sure enough, Friday afternoons I was free and could do it. I was pumped. I'd be teaching a class of 6th years and first years, switching off every other Friday. Apparently a visa isn't so important when you really need a teacher.

Then, she called me Tuesday morning and said she had more for me. So, I scooted downtown and we talked some more. She had 2 classes to be given in companies who speak english during work and two individuals who want private lessons with a high level of English. So, I suddenly had 5 jobs with the acadamia and 4 of my own putting me over 1000 Euros a month which is way more than I'd hoped for!

But it doesn't stop there. I got home from my first tutor job, that my pupil did not show up for this morning abd I had received an email about a language assistant job with the government I applied for last week. I can only work 14 hours a week and would be an assistant to a teacher in a classroom of a school in a nearby pueblo. I'd be getting 665 euros a month and this job is more official than the other and I'd be with more kids.

So, now I have a huge decision to make. I don't want to be working too much, but I also don't want to say no to such cool opportunities. I also don't want to cancel on all the private work I've racked up so far. Right now, I'm thinking I'll see if Katie wants to take over some of my day jobs with the acadamia, if they want her and then I can take the job with the government and still do a little of everything else.

Crazy. Any advice you have is welcome. Love you love you love you! And scratch that idea of the plane ticket home as a Christmas gift, I think I'll be able to cover it now!

Fotos finally

All right, I know some folks would like to see my apartmant. Well, I have 3 snaps of the livingroom, but nothing else, so here they are...

This is the view when you walk in the front door to the right of you. It looks sorta dark, but it's a very bright room actually. Remember it came furnished. And yes momma, the tree came with it, which I need to water by the way.
This is the dining area. If you look at the first picture, you can see the TV in the left corner. Well, to get an idea of space, the TV is right outside of the right side of this photo. We also took down that disgusting painting on the wall and put that vase with the leaves in it in a more central spot against the wall.
And now my blog is acting funny, so this caption is below instead of above... This is the couch that I love so. I use the one on the left as a Gilmore Girls viewing station and I prop the DVD player up in a cubby hole in front of it and stretch out. I use the one on the right as a Sex and the City viewing station and put the laptop on the table in front of me. And yes, that last seat on the right is a chez lounge (sp?) and it reclines!

Behind the orange wall is the kitchen, which is cool too and when you come in the door, if you go left you go down a hall with two bathrooms on the right , a bedroom on the left and two more at the end of the hall. So, plenty of room, come visit!!!

Other than the apartment, I'd like to show you "the tower" that's in my neighborhood. I live in the middle of a bunch of apartment buildings. It's not very pretty, but charming with all the tiny businesses set beneath the homes. This building, in the picture below is called "the tower" here because it's bigger than the rest. It reminds me of Howl's moving Castle with all the rooms jutting out, only supported by beams.And now, a food antecdote. This is our first meal in the apartment...We thought the stove would work, since we just moved in and all. and it started to, but then got lazy and stopped in mid pasta cook. We tried putting some weird bbq spice thing we had on it to distract from the chalky film the pasta left in our mouths, but that only made it worse. So, goodbye pasta. The stove works now, but not the oven.

Another bit on food... Iñaki's Abuela Bene made some flan the other day and sent some over in a jar for me to try. So, at dinnerr that night I split it up onto two plates and was all set to bring it out for dessert. I don't know if you know much about flan, but it's a custard that jiggles a lot and has a very slippery sauce on it. Well, I grabbed the two plates and started to walk out to the livingroom when I heard, "splat!" I looked down and between my feet lay a pile of flan jiggling away and my hand held one empty plate and another about to empty itself. Iñaki just weent all quiet out in the dining room and then fiercly dove for my purse to find my camera as I shrieked no! He hadn't even seen me yet, the noise of flan hitting the floor is so distinct that he knew what happened immediately. I got it cleaned up before he got the pic.

So, a lesson in flan inertia. Since flan is pretty much always in motion, jiggling and andulating, it does not ever want to stop. I can totally respect that as I myself like to shimmy and shake from time to time. Just remember, flan is a bowl food. Sadly, I don't recommend it. The texture is just too raw egg in spit sauce.

Tomorrow is my one year anniversary of living in Spain. I can't believe it's been a year, still. Since I already did a bit of a reflection blog I think this is more of a top 10 moment. So, here are my top 10 need to know items when you come to live in Spain...

10) As previously stated, flan is a bowl food.
9) Spain and Navarra are two highly different things.
8) Learn the difference between "tengo calor" and "estoy caliente" quickly. If you say the first, a gentleman may offer to take your coat, with the second, a not so gentleman may offer to take off your bra.
7) Spanish people are not Mexican.
6) George Clooney's Spanish voice is not as sexy as his own.
5) The words "coño" and "joder" have totally different meanings in Spanish than what we might think if translating them the English literally.
4) If you are asked to dinner, plan on getting home around 5... A.M.
3) Never turn down a dinner invitation because it's the experience of a lifetime.
2) If you smoke already, great, if not you will because of all the second hand you'll be consuming.
1) Sidra does not taste like cider.

A busy few days

My life in Spanish received a jump these last few days. I helped coach about 80 Spanish children at the club during an end of the summer hoop camp last week. I had to be there for my first day at 9 a.m. I was really dreading it. I didn't want to go, I didn't want to misunderstand, I didn't want to be quiet and shy... all of which seemed inevitable on my walk to the gym. But, it was 150 euros for 5 days of not much work so I couldn't say no.

I trudged to the gym in the haze of not having been up before 10 in a month. The day began slow. Somehow, I feel so see through, so transparent, like they all know I don't understand, but I don't want to ask the questions needed to figure it out. And that was just the coaches meeting. The funny thing is, once the kids started coming in, I felt better. I could communicate with them and felt more comfortable and they seemed more patient with my Spanish and explained words to me when I asked and we had a great time together!

By the time the week was done two girls and I had become quite good friends and one even came to give me a hug. It was hard being around so many kids for 5 days, 7 hours a day, but I made it and the best part was the boost in confidence and a bit of fluency that it gave my Spanish. I could see in the kids faces that they thought I knew how to speak Spanish. Sometimes I get skeptical looks from adults and people my own age and it makes me second guess myself. But the kids just came right up and talked to me and weren't confused when i answered them, which must mean I speak alright. So, a good week.

I also got to go out 2 fridays ago with Kakun and Maria from my team. It was great! They came over and we hung out for a while and it was the first time I'd had actual conversations with them. I talked all night long, not even a wisp of a wallflower in me. I know I'll still have shy days and uncomfortable situations, but I'm getting more comfortable around more people and that's the key I think.

We had a game last Tuesday that we lost, blech and one on saturday that we won, yay! Em went home on Tuesday, sniff, sob, but Katie came to take her place and we've been having fun times.

It was Irene's birthday last week, which lasted from Thursday to Saturday, which reminded me of my birthday that usually lasts around a week and a half in the states. We had various dinners and went out on Friday night to a huge cena at which I slurpped flan, which I guess is how you eat it the first time. Fredo, the American on Iñaki's team and Katie came out too and it was great. We danced the night away and chatted with all Irene's friends. I had a game Saturday, so maybe not the smartest decision to go out, ut it's preseason and Irene's birthday, so I had to do as she asked right?

On Sunday Iñaki's team had a game that they ended up losing, but it was against a team from two levels above them and they hung with them at least through the 3rd quarter. I guess there's a picture of Katie and I cheering in the paper today, so I'll have to check that out.

Still tons of stuff on the job front. I have my first official english client for Wednesdays, 10 euros an hour. I still have my au pair work. I might be taking care of Iñaki's cousins for about 2 hours in the morning and getting them off to school for another little chunk of change. I have an interview and a school in Zizur to monitor a session of art or something during their recess where they speak english and then coach a little girls hoops team for 45 minutes. All this will go from like 1-3, which is great. It's a super catholic school and super not connected to needing a visa. I'm currently coaching a team at the club of 14 year old girls who are really sweet. We had 2 practices last week, but I think I have to quit for now because my afternoons are too full. Finally, there's some job I can get with the government through Iosu that I just have to register as a foreigner for and then I can lecture in english at various schools around Pamplona, I think. This is also in the morning, which is great.

Ideally, I'll get to take care of the kids in the a.m., go do a lecture and be home by 1 to go to the school in ziizur for monitoring, be able to cut back on au pairing and then have a few more english clients and maybe form a class or two. We'll see, because the only thing that's been ideal so far is my sweet apartment.

As you can see, I've been a tad busy. I had a rather homesick day thursday, so that sucked, but I was good by Friday. Basically still chugging along and trying to get into a routine. Sorry for the lack of story and Darb-voice in this blog, I'm just trying to get the update out. I hope all ks well back home. Love love love you!

Nacho, not just a cheesy chip

Hi folks.

Well, nothing fantabulous has happened lately, just stress and hoping that all this will work out.

I'm on the road to success, I think. I have an au pair job for the afternoons, chatting with 3 boys: Javi (11), Alvaro (9) and Nacho (5). Their mom, Helena, is about the coolest lady, now that Catherine is gone, in Spain. Sometimes, we just sit and chat for an hour or so while the kids do their own thing. They all speak English and have spent the year in London, so thye have British accents, which is adorable, for the kids that is.

The other day, Alvaro and Javi and I were at the park and I warned them of some dog poop in the grass. Alvaro immediately ran right through it, on accident. I laughed and told him what he did. Javi turned around and said to me, just like Harry Potter or someone, "Oh, don't mind him, Alvaro's a great poo-steppah." It was hilarious.

That day, we also had a soccer ball juggling contest and played on the playground. I earned instant respect as I juggled the ball over 15 times in a row. The boys' faces were amazed and Alvaro kept sying, "wow." I guess their just not used to athletic girls. But really, I felt they respected me the minute I met them. It was a whole different feeling with the last 2. Alexis was fine, but obviously not obediant and Louise was nice in a way that screamed manipulation. The Matas, my new family, get mad at each other, but don't hit so much or whine at me, they solve it themselves. And my job isn't to solve arguments, it's just to talk. Helena intervenes if the kids are acting up.

Nacho, the littlest, is my fave, I must be honest. He gets a little whiney sometimes, but it's easy to make him stop. And sometimes he just gets this wicked little smile on his face and starts poking Javi, who won't hit him because he's protecting his little brother and Nacho knows just how much he can get away with. Or, sometimes, when I'm playing with the older two, Nacho will just go in his room and start singing softly to himself and do a puzzle or take the scooter and ride up and down the smooth hardwood floors. He's just fun.

Other than the Matas, I've got some pupils to teach English to on Wednesdays and I'm going to coach at a basketball camp this week, starting tomorrow... in spanish! We'll see how it goes. Hopefully all the kids will fall madly in love with me and want me to teach them english all year. There are also a couple coaching opportunities for the year that might work out

Oh, and Helena is a huge Sex and the City fan and has every episode, which she let me borrow! She's so generous. Yesterday she gave me some medicine just becasue she thinks it's a good one and that I should have it if I need it. She used to be a sports nutritionist and worked in the ER so has been giving me tips on what to eat and drink during all the hard practices.

I guess that's all I've got for now. I hope all is well back home.

Getting the bread

Bread in Spain is not just bread. Iñaki often makes the distinction between the soft baguette style that is most common here and the sliced flat bread from the U.S. that is most common at home, as "our bread" and "your bread". The bread in Spain is more delicious, no doubt. It is eaten with every meal and dipped in anything from coffee, to thick, warm chocolate pudding, to oil and vinegar. It can be a meal, a dessert, a snack, you name it. It's also used in place of a knife here while eating. You scoop the tiny bits left on your plate onto your fork with a chunk of bread rather than a utensil and then take a bite of chunk where drags or juices from the meal have been left. However, you can't use a whole piece of bread to do this. You rip a piece from your slice and set the rest alongside your plate to be used later once you've exhausted the first part. To top it all off, I've been instructed to eat my eggs a certain way with the bread. You can't simply cut the egg with a fork and eat it, but you must poke it with the edge of your bread and let the yoke run a bit and then continue to break it up with the bread and scoop it on top and take a bite. It is a wonderful bite.

I've only been to get the bread twice and today was my second time. My first, if we're talking new pueblo bread retrieving. The first official day I got bread was a Sunday. Iñaki and I were making breakfast, at noon, and we only had old bread. So, I went to the nearest open bakery, because most are closed Sunday, and fetched a loaf of bread and a Sunday paper. Isn't that enchanting? I just loved it. The little bakery was on a corner in downtown Pamplona and had low lighting with baskets and baskets of various breads lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It was cool inside and a nice break from the heat outside. I lined up behind a few folks and waited my turn, said, "I'd like one of those," pointing at one of the baskets and grabbed a paper as well. They wrapped up my loaf of bread lovingly in a little piece of wax paper and I paid and walked out, trying my best to master the phrase "hasta luego" which still comes out garbled every time.

I remember feeling so Spanish because of this tiny ritual. It's what everyone does each morning, unless they have theirs delivered, which many of the smaller pueblos do. In Tajonar, our neighbors and Emily's family have a long thin bread bag that they hang on their door and each morning when Em gets up, she opens the front door and there's a fresh loaf waiting for her to be used that day, like milk in 1950s America. Charming.

Today´s bread getting felt a bit different, and for some reason, wonderful. It's pouring down rain today and I wanted a little coffee to cozy things up a touch. I've only tried the coffee at two of the little bakeries here in Zizur and the one right across the plaza from us is better because it uses better milk. So, I grabbed a book, strapped on a hat and hustled across the plaza with some change from the money cup for bread and a spot of joe. It's the first time I've been in the bakery and it's quite cute. It has the bread lining the walls, like most, and a case of pastries in front with lots of little treats on the counter that I'm sure kids beg their moms for each time they enter. There's a little counter to take a quick coffee at or a few tables along the wall if you want a snack or something.

A little lady with died red hair, no color that could be natural, and a man who looked tan and lived in stood behind the counter chatting with customers. The man was a bit more serious and straightened up as soon as I walked in. He said, "hola, dime," and I asked for my cup of coffee and sat at the granite counter on a rickety stool waiting for it. I opened up my book and started reading and he just set the coffee in front of me quietly, so not to disturb. I read a few pages of "In these girls, hope is a muscle," and sipped, secretly scanning the surroundings.

A little boy was sitting at a table to my right all by himself. He couldn't have been more than 7 years old. He had a small bag of chips in front of him and sat in the chair, on his own feet so he could be at the proper height to use the table. He lazily nibbled his snack and looked around at people. When he finished the chips, he walked over to the counter and sat a few stools away from me. Maybe he was a grandchild to one of the people who worked there.

A lady sat in front of the little boy's table, at the next table. I couldn't see what she was eating, but she had the paper all spread out in front of her and was focused on reading. No one bothered her with questions like, "can I get you anything else." A man sat at the opposite end of the counter from me, drinking a coffee as well. The red haired, round lady walked over to chat with him from behind the counter and the man sort of seemed to be waiting for this. As they talked, I realized he couldn't really. His voice was so hoarse and crusty it came out like a forced whisper. The man behind the counter took fresh loaves of bread from the oven and placed them in the baskets, as the lady and the customer talked.

I finished my coffee and stepped to the register and asked for my bread, "una chapata integral, por favor," ("a loaf of wheat bread please"). The man rushed to get it and wrapped it in the little piece of paper, taping it closed. The lady rung me up and gave me my change, with a large, genuine smile on her face. I tucked my bread under one arm, my book under the other and headed for the door, saying, "hasta luego," as I went, still attempting to master it. The man said the same as I headed back out into the rain and tip-toed across the plaza so not to get my pants wet.

I made contact in Zizur! I talked effectively with the people in the cafe and will hopefully go back and make my face one of the regulars and get to know the shop keepers and maybe be sitting there the next time an American wanders in and nervously sits at the counter with a book and surveys the scene. This is the advice Kev gave me when I left, to make myself a regular at a cafe and read a lot. So, here comes year two, and hopefully I'll take his advice and got get the bread every day.

The whole experience, which may seem small and silly to some, cost me one walk in the rain and a euro eighty for my coffee and bread. I'm not sure what we're having for lunch yet, but I know there will be bread involved.

Keep them doggies rollin'

Well, I've done it. I'm out of the Rigault household completely. I thought I had until the 24th, but Catherine came to me and said, on Monday, that I had til Wednesday because they're just going to stay in France. This is good on one hand because I was really done with those kids. But, it's also a bit said and gives me a little pang in my chest thinking that it's over and my life is once again changing pretty dramatically.

Yesterday, after pilfering as much food, toilet paper and small appliances as I could, I walked around the house and wrote the kids a couple of notes. It was really nice to hear from Catherine that she thinks Alexis, especially, will really miss me. She said the other day he said to her, "Mom, why do you give Darby the afternoons off? I want to play and you never play with me. She always plays with me." But, at the same time, I think he thinks of me like the kid in "Toy" thinks of Richard Pryor in the beginning. We did have a lot of fun though. The other day we played two on one against Iñaki and we wore uniforms and had a team name and everything. We won, needless to say. Alexis even gave me a little guidance with his eyes sometimes, looking at the place he wanted me to cut to. It was great. I'll miss him.

Louise on the other hand, I will miss some of the moments we had together, but she's 12 folks. She manipulates every chance she gets, doesn't want to do anything but be on the internet or watch movies, which she's not allowed during the week, so it's a constant battle. But, we did have some great shopping trips together. She just needs to be with her friends more and have a bit more freedom. I think she'll really grow a lot in London this year.

Catherine was amazing this year. She really is a wonder woman. She does her job at the store and never comes home in a bad mood. She's always ready with hugs and kisses for the kids and just makes the whole house feel like it functions. She helped me with so much and gave me free time when I needed it and was fabulous. A one of a kind person that you don't meet often in life and I'm glad to know her.

I will not miss all the French cheese, the chocolate drawer, the ice cream stuffed freezer or everything being cooked in oil.

I'm really excited about the new apartment. The furniture is so cool and I'll post pictures as soon as we're all moved in. My camera struggles to keep enough battery power, otherwise I'd have pics for you today. We've got 3 bedrooms, 2 bath, fully furnished and awesome kitchen and a terrace on the back big enough for a table and 6 chairs I'd say. We're on the 4th floor. We're 2 blocks away from the club where I play basketball and Iñaki coaches and it's great. Iñaki just got a job assistant coaching with another team that's semi-pro here in Pamplona and they have 2 Americans coming. They fly in this Saturday and Iñaki is supposed to act as a translator. I can't wait to meet them! One is from New Orleans and the other I'm not sure, but he went to Lafayette.

As far as me, mentally goes, I feel unsure, but pretty good. I can't believe the changes and adventures and ups and downs this year has brought me. I've been homesick, I've met lots of new people, I've grieved, I've learned a new language and continue to, I've played hoops, I've been to San Fermin, I learned how to drive a stick shift, I've learned some Spanish cuisine and I travelled a ton. The ups were really up and the downs were super down, but all in all, I'm happy here. I don't know if I could have said that my last year in Portland. And through all of this, I don't really feel like my insides, like the person I was and am has changed. In reality, I don't think I've changed much on the inside my whole life. My basic Darby essence has stayed intact since birth. But, I really thought this experience would change who I am and I don't think it did much. I realized what I'm capable of and that if I can move half way across the world alone, than I can do lots more. But my favorite places and people are still in Oregon. I like the fact that I still feel like me though. I guess it just means I like who I am and I think that's a good thing. Maybe I like myself too much sometimes, but don't we all?

Now, for the unknown... in one of my last conversations with Dave, I said to him, "I don't know what I'm going to do next, but I feel free." He told me he knew that's why I needed to be in Spain and following my heart. He said that was always one of my big issues back in Portland, I felt stuck, but not with any direction to go in, so I stayed stuck and it weighed on me. He said that statement, that I felt free, gave him a lot of peace of mind and it made me feel wonderful that he recognized that and pointed it out to me so I could realize the amount of good this trip to Spain has actually done me.

So, I'm trying to continue to feel free, but it's hard when I don't have a job or know for sure what will be in the months to come. I know that if this was the case last year, I'd be home right now. It wouldn't even be a question. It might just be stupid of me to try, but I'm gonna give it a shot and see if I can make it. If not, the worst thing that happens is I go home and get a job and plan my next move.

Here we go again, Darb's big adventure, part two! Hopefully I'll see you all at Christmas, and not before. We get tons of time off here for Christmas, so it should be a good long stay at home. And, just so you know, I have no Christmas list this year, just pool together and get me a flight home!

Love you!

Sunflowers!

So, the other night... I'm not sure that I mentioned the 11 p.m. picnic yet? Well, Iñaki, Luis and I had one. We were driving around in the dark with all our food, tummies growling and my headlights flashed on a patch of sunflowers. Iñaki said they have them all over the place in Pamplona and I couldn't wait to see them in the daylight.

The other day I was running what I like to call, "the Tajo T" which consists of an old trail into someone's field of overgrown grass across the way from our house. Well, just as I passed the tall trees at the edge of the field, Taj Mahal's "Corinna" came on my iPod (which I love) and I looked to the left and saw a huge field of sunflowers staring back at me. I can't even describe the feeling. It was about 8, so the sun was on it's way to the horizon and the field seemed to go on forever and sparkle, yellow and green in the late evening rays. I felt like I just walked onto a the Walker plantation in the Ya Ya Sisterhood. The dad ends up turning up all his tobacco in that book and planting sunflowers.

So, for my next run, I went a bit earlier and then came back to the house for my camera so I could get some pics before the sun set. Here's what I saw...

In this one, I am commencing the run out to the T, working so hard.

Now I am pretending to be Maximus in Gladiator.

The beginning of the T and a hint of the sunny yellowness to come just past the trees.

My first view of the beauties.

I'm just so happy to be near so much brightness. I think I get that from Dad.
Many sunny returns!

San Fermin de Mayo

The 14th of July is still a bit of a blur for me. It was a big day. I met Iñaki's family on his Dad's side, woke up at 5:30 a.m., and it was the last day of San Fermin. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we drank... we ate and drank some more. My body was stretched to it's limit of being tired, and then some. I found out just how much food I can actually eat before feeling like passing out (didn't think it was possible). I haven't sweat that much since Oregon City Basketball Camp, during which we played 5 games a day. I have never felt more disgustingly dirty, like I could actually sleep comfortably standing up, or out of place in my whole life... I have to come back next year!

Like I said, the day began at 5:30 a.m. The events of the day might best be described in a timeline format in fact. Iñaki, Irene and I headed down town from the Mayo abode at 6:15. We found a good parking spot and had a short walk to the square in front of the government building (where all the pictures of the crowds were taken in my previous blog). "La Pamplonesa" one of the official San Fermin bands begins the day with a little walk down one of the streets in old town while people dance all around them calling out which number song to play. The songs don't really have numbers, but there are 4 and everyone thinks they know which is which, but they don't and it's just a bunch of chaos until they start a new song and everyone pretends like that's the one they asked for. It begins at 6:45 a.m. and it's called "Las Dianas." We met up with Iñaki's dad Paco, Mikel, Aunt Pilar, her friend Gracia and Irene's main squeeze, Dani at about 6:30.

The band let it rip at 6:45 sharp and we all danced down the street next to it. It was a pretty great way to start the morning. Really, there are bands walking through the streets each day and all the time during San Fermin. It's pretty cool. Everywhere you turn you could end up in your own personal parade.

After Las Dianas came a bit of awkwardness. We walked back to Eduardo's apartment to catch the Encierro (Running of the Bulls) at 8 a.m. Iñaki's Dad is a little intimidating to me and speaks Spanish quite quickly and always looks you right in the eye and was on the board at the basketball club and is all official so I sort of shied away from much contact with him at first. I talked with Pilar and Gracia a bit, but all my small talk had dried up by the time we were on the balcony at Eduardo's and still had a half hour before the run. Irene, Iñaki and Paco, went to go buy churros while the rest of us hung out in the apartment. It's traditional to eat churros for breakfast during San Fermin and there's a specific churreria that everyone goes to and they sell them fresh by the bagful.

When the churros arrived, we chowed down and took a swig or two off the Brugal bottle (it's just San Fermin, I swear!). At one point, I turned around from out on the balcony and saw Paco back in the apartment leaning with his back against the kitchen counter with the bottle in two hands, head tilted back and pouring it into his mouth like a man needing water in the desert. It was quite a sight.

We passed the rest of the pre-run out on the two balconies just watching the crowd, my nerves running too high to understand or speak a word in anything other than a thick American accent. So, I held tight to Mikel who took pity on me and busted out some English. He kept telling me to go down and run. He said he'd come with me if he could just be a few feet ahead of me. Ha ha ha.

As we stood watching a song began to rise from below and I looked down and made eye contact with a group of young, strapping, Spanish runners who seemed to be serenading me. At first I thought, oh, that's kind of fun, so I focused in and listened to what they were saying. Spain seems to have so many jovial songs, I thought it might be familiar. As I strained my ear and leaned forward, they only got louder. After a few verses, the chorus became quite clear... "Hey brunette girl, show us your boobs."

I'm sure as soon as I noticed what they were saying, realization flooded my face and I hoped none of the family had heard as I tried to duck back into the apartment discreetly. But, it was too late. Irene started yelling at me from the next balcony over, "Darby, they're singing to you!" I just sort of shook my head nervously, like I didn't understand and, as Irene's a brunette as well, with much bigger jugs than mine, I acted like they must be talking to her and snuck back into the livingroom.

Yet, once I did so, I felt a bit disappointed in myself. Afterall, it was San Fermin. It was my move and I folded. So, I went back out, stuck my chest out, completely clothed of course, and the songs started up a little later. I wagged my finger at them and smiled sweetly. As they were letting the crowd break and spread a bit, I acted like I was going to do it... and then let them all run away without showing a thing. I was satisfied with it anyway. You may think this little antecdote is self absorbed. Really, though, all the men during San Fermin want to see boobs and they don't care who's, it's just like Mardi Gras. I just happened to be the one who got the song that time.

Moving on... by 8:30 we had finished watching the bulls, a spectacular view once again. One of my favorite moments was Dani yelling at the T.V. announcers about a strong opinion he had on how the Encierro had gone. He´s always got an opinion and was fighting the whole room on what he thought. It was hilarious. Next, it was decided that churros were not enough to suffice our tummies. We headed out to find a bar for breakfast, the whole group. We were seated outside at a long table about a half an hour later, after some walking and ordered eggs and chistezorra (chistorra to Spain, chistezorra to me) and wine and bread and yum yum yum.

As we sat and ate, I was getting tired and full and not understanding at all. Irene and Iñaki kept trying to talk to me but my brain was as fried as the egg on my plate and I felt like an idiot because Iñaki kept having to translate. Dani was sitting across from me during a great moment where my head was swivelling back and forth trying to catch a few words. All the sudden he just started giggling and I turned to see he was staring straight at me. He spoke to me and I understood my first clear Spanish words all day, "You're trying but you just don't understand." It was great, he totally got how I was feeling. It was like he summed up my morning in one statement. I'm glad he at least saw my effort : )

Irene, Mikel and Dani had been up all night so they left for some rest after breakfast and it was down to me, Pilar, Gracia, Iñaki and Paco by 10 a.m. Paco decided, hey, it's time for more churros. Feeling stuffed, I said no thanks, but we went to the churreria and stood in line to get them. Do, duh, do, I twittled my thumbs and stood around and didn't talk much. We got into the churreria after about 20 minutes and it was pretty cool. They had pictures up all over the walls of past groups of churro makers from San Fermines gone by. I think it's only open this time of year actually, but I'm not sure. They had little samples to take from a round little old lady before you bought your big bag and scuffled out the door as the next customers squished in. It was a neat pinch of history. It just goes to show how deeply rooted and historical San Fermin is here. The churro place even has a past. I bet you Hemmingway got a churro there!

With our second bag of churros in tow, we strolled over to the Plaza del Castillo. When I politely (I thought politely at least) refused a churro, as I thought it might make me hurl, Paco said to me, in my second phrase successfully understood in Spanish of the day, "Darby, we eat here." So, I said fine and Paco then pulled them away from me. As Bogey said best, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Anyway, I ended up eating the damn churro and could barely walk when we got to a bar in the plaza and sat down for some beers and rum with lemon. This was at 11 o´clock a.m. Wow. I was sitting there getting a little buzz on and my nerves were finally letting loose when a direct question was posed to me by Paco. I sort of understood, sort of didn't. I don't even remember what it was really, but we got into a tiny chat I guess, with Iñaki as an interpreter when needed. Apparently a lot of jokes were being thrown at me and I was missing every one of them. I guess at some point, I was told later, that Paco said, "The U.S... I like the country, but the people, not so much." He then asked me if I understood and I said yes, smiling like an idiot, but I guess I hadn't. Pilar got the point across to me after this that I was going to have to carry a lot on my back as the day went on, meaning a lot of horse poo was going to be flung my way, so watch out.

That's when I put my game face on and got ready for the long haul. Number one, it was affirmed that we were going to be together all day whether I liked it or not. Number two, I was getting braver by the second. Number 3, I have a blog, so I always get the last laugh ; ) So, I grabbed Iñaki's rum and lemon, drank more of it than he did and laced up my gloves.

Sadly, the rest of this tale will have to come later on. My butt hurts from sitting at the compy for so long and I need a run.

P.S. did you know we have huge fields of sunflowers here? They are amazing! I'll get a picture and blog that soon too. Speaking of pics, I forgot my camera on the 14th, so all I have is from that night out. Those will be up in the next blog. Or maybe not. I'm at about noon and I have to cover until 5:30 the next morning, so we'll see, possibly 2 more entries. Still to come are events like the huge family lunch, U.S.A. being chanted at me frequently, getting dowsed with rum and coke, meeting up with Luis and screaming for joy at the sight of a familiar face... the list goes on. Love to all!

San Fermines... bwa!!!

While walking through the streets of old town Pamplona one Saturday night, the unmistakable scent of urine wafted up into my nostrils. I immediately said to Iñaki, "ew gross, someone peed outside." He turned to me, breathed in, and smiled with his eyes closed pensively replying, "mmm, San Fermines. That smell gives me goosebumps." I said, "what?!? Gross, what's wrong with you?" He said, "Darby, you'll understand this July."

And now, I do. San Fermines is crazy, amazing, nothing like anything in the whole world, and yes, the streets smell like pee... and it's great! Before I arrived in Pamplona, I knew San Fermines as the running of the bulls. I thought the bulls ran one time, people got hurt, and that was it. I was really wrong. It's actually a 9 day long party that begins on July 6th and ends on the 14th and the bulls run every day and there are bull fights every day. The way Iñaki explained it to me was that Pamplona is quite a conservative city. People dress in a particular manner, eat meals at the right times, get enough rest, give cordial hellos and the like. San Fermines is the one week of the year where everyone goes crazy and does all their "sinning" in one foul swoop. Here's some more info.

The whole town is into it. You see grandparents out in the street drunk and singing, teenagers with arms interlocked dancing all over and families trudging through all of it. And, everyone, I mean EVERYONE is dressed in white with the red scarf at the neck and waist. You go to the grocery store, and everyone is in the San Fermines outfit, you walk down the street and there it is, you knock on someone's door and they will be wearing it when they answer. The city is completely into it. It's like it doesn't matter if other people can't see you not wearing it, San Fermin can!

My San Fermin began slowly and I only experienced sort of a mini one this year. That was fine with me as I was so jet lagged all week. I returned to Pamplona on Tuesday and went to sleep. All of the plazas, there are numerous, have various events each night and I rested up to catch a couple concerts that night. I'm not sure when I woke up, but I was downtown in time for the fireworks at 11 pm with Iñaki and his cousin, the brother of Nanes, also known as Mikel. Really though, I have to give two snaps and a twist to Mikel because he kicks ass as a person. He's hilarious and we were best friends from the start.

So, we caught the fireworks in the park, which were so close that the debree fell on our heads as we looked up at them. We met up with Irene and Sergio afterwards and hit up the Mateo Parker concert in the Plaza del Castillo. It was packed with people. We headed over to another plaza and checked out a cuban piano player as well, who I can't remember the name of, but it was sweet. I got home pretty early, around 4 I think, and slept until like 3 Wednesday afternoon. I was so tired.

On Wednesday night we went out to this all city inclusive parade called Struendo. During the year in San Sebastian they have a pretty serious and talented drum procession that comes with a certain holiday. It starts at midnight there and goes for a weekend, ending at another midnight, I think. During San Fermines, Pamplona has a drum procession that begins at 11:59, to make fun of the one in San Sebastian sort of, and anyone can come and bang their drums and just make noise in general. So, Iñaki and I took Irene her huge bass drum that her dad had given her that looked pretty official and I took a tiny drum that hangs around your neck on a chord and used pens as sticks. So Irene and I marched down the street with the huge group and Iñaki followed with his purple kazoo. A bunch of TV people stopped Irene because she had such a huge drum, so I just stood behind her and smiled awkwardly. We only walked down one street but it took nearly a half an hour. We left the crowd at that point and hit up the apartment.

I forgot to tell you all about the apartment... Iñaki's friend Eduardo has an apartment right in downtown Pamplona, on the street where the bulls run. He was out of town during the week so he gave the key to Iñaki so we could use it to eat, go to the bathroom, or watch the bulls. It was great!

So, we went to the apartment, made some rum and cokes and hit the town. The streets were jam packed, like the night before. There were people from all over the world and everyone is your best friend. Iñaki had to work the next day, so he went home and Irene and I went out. We just found a bar and hung out and danced the night away. A group of guys found out I was American and started squirting me with a squirt gun, but I took over, fought them for it and won! Mwuah ha ha ha!!

By about 6 I was all danced out and went back to the apartment to get a couple hours rest before the Encierro, running of the bulls, at 8. Irene was a trooper and stayed out all night and met me back at the apartment at about 7:30 and woke me up so I could watch. She had the TV on and was out on the balcony and said, "Darby venga, puedes dormir cuando estás muerta (you can sleep when you're dead)" or something like that. Forgetting I had taken my pants off to get into bed, I walked out on the balcony in my white tank, scarf and white undies, oops. There was a huge crowd, but I ran back in before anyone saw too much, I think. It doesn't really matter anyway because there's lots of "freedom" during the week as far as wearing clothes goes, so I was pretty well covered.

Anyhow, pants entact, I went out on the balcony again and it was amazing. The government building was right there and the street was packed with people either running or watching. We just stood there and gazed in awe. A horn sounds at 8 am and the run starts! First the 6 stronger bulls and then, a few minutes later, the weaker ones. It was crazy. We saw a guy get hit right in front of the apartment. I didn't realize how bad it was until we saw the gorings on the news a few minutes later. Yikes.

We searched different news channels after the run to find more info and saw ourselves on TV from the night before! Irene was in front with her big drum and I was right next to her with my teeny one banging away, it was hilarious. We locked up the apartment and took a leisurely walk and bus ride home and I got back to Tajonar around 10 am. I didn't get to sleep until around 11:30 because I was still all wired. I had to rest for the next two days to prepare for the final day of San Fermines, Saturday the 14th, which is a whole blog for itself. Here are some pictures from the big she-bang thus far in your blog experience...

The opening of San Fermines on the 6th in front of the goverment building. This is a view from the balcony of the apartment. People are packed in and just waiting for the government to say, "ok, now you can party."

This is how it looks for the running of the bulls. They just put fences up and about 15 minutes before 8 they let the crowd spread out a little more than this.
This is me getting dressed for my first night of San Fermin.
This is (left to right) me, Mikel, Irene (half covered by Iñaki), Iñaki and Sergio just after the fireworks on Tuesday. We were in this big carnival game area they had set up walking to the Plaza del Castillo.
This is Irene and I at the cuban pianist concert. Don't worry, that was a communal cup, not just mine ; )

This is Irene being interviewed one of many times about her drum during the midnight music parade, El Struendo.
This is Irene and I carrying our drums to the apartment. As you can see, mine was a tiny.
This was the huge drum that lead the procession and Irene made friends with the guy who guarded it, so we got to take pictures like we were going to hit it, but we weren't really allowed to. Anyway, here's mine.So, that's it until later when I will tell you all about my amazing last day of San Fermines which was enough to last me the year. Here are some more pictures you can view from one of the papers here. Check back for more!

oh what a week!

Hi everyone!

I've been a busy bee over here in Spain the last two weeks. Last week was San Fermines (the running of the bulls) and this week I've been with the kids during the day and job and apartment hunting. Yes, there has been downtime to blog, but I've been using it to catch up on my sleep.

So, this isn't going to be a spectacular post just yet, but some pics from the wedding and a few comments. The San Fermines blog is coming and it will be crazy.

I had so much fun while I was home! Thanks to everyone for all the hugs and hellos. It's making me a little homesick now to think of it. Anyhow, here are some of my favorite pictures from the wedding week. Most of you know who everyone is, so I'll just post them for your viewing and add captions if I deem necessary...

We actually look sort of alike in that one, huh Whit? Maybe it's just the same skin tint that does it.

These next few I like to call my "rosey phase" similar to Picasso's "blue phase." However, where Picasso was depressed during his blue phase, I was just a little drunk during my rosey phase, and rosey cheeked, so all the pictures have me in them next to someone as I'm holding the camera out to take the snap... it's all Darby, all the time.
My mom's so pretty!
The morning after...
This is not my best face, but Pa Pete looked so cute I just had to put it.What a great week! I think my favorite part was that we were all together all the time. Mom and Dad came out with us after all the events of the wedding and I got to talk to and get to know some of Kev's best friends from high school who I never had before. It's tough being Kevin Cave's little sister... but a little sister all grown up is a pretty good deal.

I've had a couple strong pangs of miss-age the last couple days. I was telling mom how I was watching The Big Lebowski, in English, and it made me miss home. Just watching a movie in English did it to me, and the movie has nothing to do with Oregon. I wish I could be on the Sandy River and go swimming and have BBQs and go on runs and lay out in the sun and kick it with my friends.

But, I still love my life here too. San Fermines was amazing and I had a conversation with a girl from my team in Spanish the other day who I normally can't even understand so I feel like I'm improving. Last night Luis, Iñaki and I went on a picnic. We took a wrong turn and didn't end up sitting down to eat until like 11 and wound up back in my pueblo, Tajonar. It was pitch black out by then, and cold. I just kept laughing as we ate because of the situation. Cars would drive by and there we were on the side of the road at a stone table eating rice salad and an 8/10 tortilla.

The point is, I miss home, but I am actually feeling more comfortable here as far as life goes. Before, it was so awesome and everything was new and then for a while it was just hard to understand and speak and I was being so quiet in group situations. Now, maybe not tomorrow, but now, I know that I can talk if I want and be understood and understand if I ask questions and focus (how many times have I said that in this blog...?). It's a good feeling. I had a job interview, in Spanish, the other day, and I understood pretty much and answered back. But, I'm not that great yet. As Eduardo and Pilar always say to me, poco a poco.

Send me some updates from home when you have time. Miss and love you!

Home stretch

Wow, I'll be getting on a plane home in 3 days. I can't believe how quickly it's gone by.


It's strange, I'm really excited, but a little stressed to be back home again. I have lots of packing to do of course and I want to make sure I see everyone and do everything while I'm there.

I just dropped Iñaki off to catch the bus for his hoop camp this week. So, I have 3 days that will be filled with the kids and scrambling to get things together. At the same time, I wish I were leaving tomorrow. The 3 days wait, especially with the kids off of school, could be a bit of a torture.

It's interesting to think about what I've gone through to get to this point. I remember having to run away from Mom and Whit at the airport so I wouldn't break down and cry when I left on September 12th. I also remember feeling quite free as I was all alone waiting to board the plane. I was starting my adventure and it was just me.

I remember arriving in Bilbao after a bunch of flight delays and taking much longer than I should have and seeing Catherine standing outside the exit doors waiting for me in one of her smart suits. I just walked right up and gave her a hug. She's so tiny.

We got to the house at around 4 am and I just hit the sack but I couldn't sleep because it was all so strange. All the sudden I had a new home, but I didn't know where to take a shower or who my new family was yet.

The 5 or so days I had with Alicia were a huge help. She showed me everything and introduced me to people and my head wouldn't stop spinning and I couldn't imagine how I would remember all of it, but somehow, I did.

Learning the stick shift was my first big accomplishment here. Now I try to apply that experience to learning the language. I just have to keep trying and eventually it will work.

I remember meeting Lourdes for the first time and how she was so sweet, but we could barely speak. She helped me find my team and it was quite exciting to go see them play for the first time and get bothered by Iosu for the first time. I went back and met the coaches after the game and Iosu tried to speak to me in english and he introduced Iñaki and Iñaki said, "Pleased to meet you," in perfect accent and form. I remember feeling so relieved. He says my face just sort of lit up at that moment, like "thank God, a little help!"

From there everything just started rolling and suddenly I had a busy life... a busy life in Spain! I never expected it. I thought I would be in my room reading and writing a lot but as it turned out, I have been able to experience everything and have made a rule to try not to say no to invitations out or to do things with people and it's worked pretty well.

I've felt more stupid, awkward, nervous, frantic and strange here than at any other point in my life, but for some reason, I love it here. Granted, if certain people, or a certain person, hadn't come into my life, I don't know how well off I'd be. Maybe I'd be sitting here telling you about how I'd finished my 3rd childrens book of the year and am moving on to a novel. Though that would be great in its own right, I'm glad that is not at all the news I have to tell.

I'll see all of your sweet faces in a few days! I can't wait to hug and kiss you all and just sit down and chat for a while.

An ode to Dad

My Dad is the best. Just like my Mom. But, I suppose many people feel that way about their parents.

One of my fave memories I have of my Dad was during college when we'd go to the Hoop together and lift weights or run and wait for a court to open. As soon as one cleared out, we'd go down and play one on one full court to like 40 or some unheard of number. He always beat me. I'd always get out of control and yell and get mad and he'd just calmly hit threes in my face. Then we'd go get a Jamba Juice. I can't remember feeling more tired and satisfied than on those days. I earned my afternoons in the sun.

One day we actually had a good game going and I may have even been ahead. I'm not sure what prompted it, but near the end of the game he got all pissed and actually yelled! I loved it, because I knew he must have been really pissed.

He sort of has a game face for life really. He never shows his emotions or gives you his opinion unless you ask for it. I admire this a lot because I can't really stop what I'm feeling from coming out on my face or in what I say. Dad always has things in perspective.

Anyhow, there's much more to him than that. He's so silly and does things like salmon dances and "pree G" and the tip toe touch down and cheerleader signals to me in the middle of bball games and gives speeches on ruffage to my little league team. Like some cheeses, he's really gotten better with age. Though he's got a great game face, sometimes he has bursts of enthusiasm and will put a sock hat on in the shape of a peter pan cap and twirl around the living room. I can't help but laugh when we're hanging out.

I love how we talk so easily. Not like hard things are easy to talk about, but when we're on the phone together I feel like we sort of slur and have an easy twang. It's strange, as I've lived in Portland all my life and shouldn't have this, but it comes out.

I think it's pretty sweet that my Dad has been at the same job for over 30 years. I know it's not his favorite thing to do, but it's allowed me to have everything I need and want. Also, he starts his day at 6. This could be becuase of the east coast market opening at that time, but it made it so he could be at home with us in the afternoon. Being in Spain with a family that has a Dad that can't be around much has really made me appreciate that my Dad was there and coached me and played with me and we did things together.

I love how he loves being with me and our family as much as we love being with him. Going over to Gramps' for BBQs with my whole family is about the best thing I've ever experienced. We just chat and laugh and watch games on TV and it's great. I can just tell that Dad loves it just as much.

I used to be so happy to see him after he came home from work during summers in college. I'd just try to be weird and make him laugh. He always would. One of our favorite things to do is hold our arms at our sides and flex our stomachs and punch eachother in the gut until we can't take it anymore. He can always take what I dish out but I'm usually out in one punch with a big, hhhuuuuhhh, outlet of breath. It's great. I love you Daddy-o! Happy F Day!

Farmer's breakfast

On our way to London, Iñaki was reading a little brochure/map that Patrick had given us. One of the things it recommended we do is take the Farmer's breakfast challange. This seemed odd to me as England is not known for having very tastey food. The brochure said that some places will let you eat for free if you can finish it all. We didn't run across any offers like this and felt a little jipped out of getting the full London experience. So, this morning, we took our own Farmer's breakfast challange and just made everything the brochure said and ate it.

The meal consisted of two fried eggs, two sausage, two bacons, two pancakes, baked beans, a tomato slice and a flat mushroom (whatever that is, we just sauteed some mushrooms). You also had to drink a cup of coffee and an orange juice and wipe it all up with some toast. Here's our re-creation.
The challange wasn't as hard as it seemed. Iñaki finished way before I did and said, "easy." He also ate an extra piece of toast, because I skipped mine. We figured it was a team effort. I was going to eat an extra tomato to make up for it, but forgot, oops. Here is the aftermath.
And here is the aftermath, as it effected my girlish figure.Don't worry, this was a one time thing. See you soon!