So, I am beginning to like Salamanca more and more as the end of my adventure approaches. Now that I have met some people that live here and they have shown me better places than Camelot, and now that I have drunk in the streets and the on the steps of the Palacio Congreso like the locals, and have even taken part in the ritual bottelon of Calimocho (a huge bottle of Coca Cola and red wine drunken in the street), I´m feeling right at home. I could even live here for longer. I´ve already started to recognize people in the streets, which is not a thing I´m used to, but I´m starting to enjoy it. This somewhat small-town life is comforting in a way and I do enjoy not having to take a metro or a bus everywhere. And yes, this region is said to be the most conservative in Spain, but because it has two universities, the atmosphere is more relaxed than the voting ballots. It´s also quite enjoyable to watch the streets fill with high-heel wearing 80 year old women every evening, my Mama Espanola being one of them. She has shown me her wide collection of gemstoned tocones and has explained every matching outfit possibility...anyhow, the point is, once you get away from the Germans, Salamanca is a lovely city and I would recommend it to first-comers to Spain. It´s not as manic as Barcelona and would be an easier transition. I can´t see myself falling in love with Salamanca as I did with Barcelona though. It can be a bit bland and there is no beach!! But, there are mountains not far away and tiny beautiful pueblos such as La Alberca. More about that later...

Night-life so far...

Avoid Camelot, unless you want free drinks. If this is so, grab the plentiful drink coupons off the street and gulp down as many beers and watered-down Sangrias as possible , then AVIOD Camelot. It´s the 17 year old tourist hive of Salamanca, which rotates teen-sex-enticing hip hop CD. The Irish Rover is slightly more appealing, well...at least it has 2 CDs. But seriously, it´s older, grimier, and darker, and you can hear a bit more Spanish, which is approaching what I prefer. It´s half drinking Guiness on a stool and half Spanish line dancing on stage. And there are a plethera of other bars : shot bars with ¨blow jobs,¨coctail bars with with drinks the size of goldfish tanks, and one bar I particularly enjoyed named Berkland. It´s an antique furnished house overlooking Plaza Espana where the atmosphere is more coffeeshop-like. And if you´re craving a real Spanish bar, with hairy men playing darts and half-dressed children playing foosball until 2 AM, check out Latuca. You can get a caña and a tapa for 1.20 Euros! Pus, a good conversation with the bar tender. There is also a tapas district outside of the city center surrounding Van Dyck street. I like this area because the places are not catered to tourists, no one speaks English, and I get to pour wine into my mouth out of what looks like a watering can. I wonder if these places will be over-overflowing with students when school starts though?? It´s a bit dead here in August, but yesterday I saw some youngins hauling suitcases, so they are returning...

¡Vamos a vuelta!

Salamanca is extremely walkable and because I´m somewhat impatient, I prefer to walk everywhere than wait the 15 minutes for the bus, of which there are many, if you prefer. The main area of the city is encircled by one large street possessing a ridiculous number of names and is crossable at its widest circumference in about 20 minutes. There are few things outside of this circle, like swimming pools, where many spend the hot days after class, the tapa neighborhood, and the Puente Romano, which you only need to see once. And those are a straight shot from the center and easily reached by foot. If the heat is too much to handle, which it rarely is, or you don´t feel up to walking, there are buses to these places as well. For travel outside the city, there is a great train station equipped with a movie theater, shops, and plentiful trains, and a bus station with buses every hour to Madrid.

El Camino de Santiago

Hiking up windy roads in the heat was the theme of this weekend´s Isla Excursion. The bus driver had no poroblem letting the Isla lot go for many walks that could have been shortened or avoided. I´m a walker and I generally don´t mind lots of walking, but this was ridiculous! But anyhow, I got to see some beautiful views of a canyon bordering Spain and Portugal. The promised kyaking was a it dull because they gave us kyaks to simply roam around in in still water. No rapids, no guide spicing things up. Just me and my kyak wading around in the polluted and unswimmable water. The company was fantastic however and I greatly enyoyed an intense paddle ball game with a Croatian. The directors where very caring and provided an impressionable variety of food and drink, including freshly home-made Sangria. When we finally got to swim, it was in a fantastic and special place: a lake within mountains which I swam across to sunbathe in Portugal. All in all, it was a successful trip, and I was suficiently worn out afterwards.

Un poco actividades

So far the activities put on by the school have been phenominal. There is something planned almost everyday, such as tours, lecures, movies, trips to neighboring cities, dinners of typical food, and this weekend there will be a kyaking event to a canyon bordering Spain and Portugal. These events have been informative and enjoyable for the most part, athough I was completely lost in a lecture (in Spanish) about 3 famous writers. I just couldn´t understand enough! I also went on a tour of San Esteban church and neighboring convent. The guide from the school was very informative and I could understand her much better than the lecturer. And the parts I didn´t understand seemed quite interesting from the looks of the other students faces, so I´d give her an A! Once a week they show a film too, and this week it was Pirates of the Caribean, but half way through the DVD stopped working, unlucky for the other students, pero no toco mis juevos, cuz I had to make it home for dinner with my Mama Espanola anyhow. I´m out for now.

Some blah despues una semana

I´ve just finished my first week of classes and I´ve been really pleased with the lessons and teachers. 5 hours of Spanish a day can be rough at times and with the wrong teacher it can be hell, but it has been fine so far. My schedule is split up managebally as follows:
9-10 Spanish Culture
10-1 Grammar
1-2 Conversation
By the end of the day I´m a bit dead, but it´s worth it. Also, the books are quite varied and interesting and they have a lot of helpful tables and formulas, so that helps. I´ve had to teach from some aweful English text books, but these are quite easy to grasp concepts from and they have a lot of practice. Isla (the Spanish school) has a lot more students than I expected, but most of them are German or Italian! I´m the only non-German speaker in my class, so when students are translating amongst themselves, I´m lost in translation. The first 2 days there was too much German spoken in class, and I was agitated because I´m here ot speak Spanish, not listen to a language I haven´t the slightest idea about. Otherwise, I´ve found the staff to be very friendly and helpful. Yes, they only speak to you in Spanish, but I prefer it that way (if they are skilled at speaking slowly in over- simplified vocabulary). There are a few older students but most are 16 to 18 years old, which I didn´t expect. Acually, I´m only 23 and a lot of the time at school and Isla events, I feel so OLD. Oh well, maybe this is because it´s the month of August? All the kids are out of school and Mommy and Daddy decided to get rid of them for a while. Fair Enough.

The Beginning

I was welcomed into Salamanca by my 75 year- old host mother, Francisca. Nutty and young at heart, Mama Espanola led me through the rules of the house in a kind, yet firm manner, making sure I understand that I´m not allowed in the kitchen, I´m allowed 1 shower a day, and for reasons that I couldn´t translate and didn´t bother to probe into, that I must open the window blind in my room before leaving the house in the morning. Fair enough. Luckily, as she ademently expained to me, ME has a passion for cooking and I was promptly served homemade croquettes and cabage/ potato/ red sauce dish at 9 sharp. With flan for desert (packaged, but flan none the less). A great Spanish meal to welcome me. Then we were off for a walk to Plaza Mayor, but not before ME changed into her evening outfit and draped herself in gold jewellery. A ¨¡Que bonita!¨ earned me a giration of the hands and 2 kisses. Through her endless talking, I grew to appreciate my ME. She is a gossiping, joyous, nosy dancer. Dances Friday, Saturday, and Sunday- this she made clear to inform me that I will be eating dinner alone these nights while she swats away grandpas on the dance floor. One of whom we purposely walked through the park to spy on. Fair enough. ME is changing my views of old Spanish woman for the better. This is a women you would expect to be sitting on the plaza bench, happy for the sun and fresh air, in one of the rows of old women I often see and try to sneak pictures of here in Spain. But ME is no sitter, she is a dancer.