¡Un finde impresionante! (One incredible weekend!)

Friday I got a text from Iban, one of the friends from Couchsurfing that I met on Monday before going to Oktoberfest. He invited me to a free Basque cooking workshop but said they were meeting up before hand for drinks and pintxos at a bar called Txindoki.

Ivan lives in Vitoria but visits Bilbao often to see his friends. From the way he carries himself and interacts with others, he reminds me a lot of my brother-in-law Jamie. He, though still in his late 20s or 30s, I think is retired due to back problems, so he doesn't work. Instead he has a good time and travels often. He wants to learn English and French, and he loves to cook. For some reason, he's taken an interest in me and wants to introduce me to the authentic País Vasco. In talking with him this weekend, I've learned a ton about the País Vasco and about the colloquial language here. However, I never know if the words he's teaching me are considered vulgar by others. I guess I'll find out...

So I went to the bar in Deusto. All together there were four people I had met Monday (Iban, Abi, Rocio, and Anasomething). Anasomething's sister Giselia and Giselia's boyfriend Jon also came, making us three Spaniards, three Argentines, and me. After we all had a drink and a pintxo at that bar, we all paid together and walked to another bar (in true Basque form) and spent a few minutes there getting a drink and a pintxo. This activity (barhopping) is called txikiteo, and the group of people you do it with is called your cuadrilla. The word can also just be any group of friends that you regularly hang out with, but here, this is what "hanging out" usually is. People don't go to each other's houses or (more accurately) apartments; that's family territory. Friend territory is in the bars and streets.

This is Giselia, surrounded by an array of pintxos.

Rocío left us after the txikiteo, and we went to one of the buildings at the University of Deusto where the cooking workshop was. The only people who showed up for it were us six, so three of us learned the entree and the other three learned the dessert, and then we switched. The dessert is called goxua, and it's kind of like a tiramisu, made with nata (whipped cream), bizcotxo (a sweet bread), and natillas (a vanilla custard) topped with caramel.

Abi eating the goxua.

The entree is called talo, which is like fajita, but in the tortilla we just wrapped some cooked onion and choice of meat: cerdo (pork), sausage, or morcilla (blood sausage made with rice).

The cooking instructor thinks I'm doing a horrible job.

The room we were in, by the way, looked like a kid's playroom or nursery, hence all the board games if you saw them in my Facebook album. Since there were so few of us, we had our fill of everything. On our way out, we saw another workshop going on downstairs: an art workshop featuring "water papel."

After that we parted ways, but Iban told me that tomorrow the Guggenheim Museum would be free to enter and that they were going. So, the next morning, I arose and went. The "Goog" is guarded by a giant dog sculpture covered in flowers and named "Puppy." Every time I hear a native talking about it, I crack a smile, because they pronounce it "poopy" shamelessly.

The first floor had large works that you had to walk through in order to experience. One consisted of columns of vertical marquees, and another was made of wood. Everyone I've talked to has mixed feelings about the works in the Goog. The descriptions of the works are filled with flowery language, which seem like they're trying to prove that the work is indeed art. At any rate, the museum did leave me wondering what made the cut. The giant abstract works were certainly more interesting than some of the Dutch still lifes, that's for sure.

The second floor was closed. I'm pretty sure they're installing a new exhibit. The third floor was divided up into categories of Dutch works such as still lifes, historical pieces, etc., which I liked. I especially liked the painters who tried to capture the non-flowery parts of life. One painter in particular spent his career perfecting the the facial expression of disgust. After experiencing the Goog, I said "hasta luego" to Iban and Abi, my tour guides, and went home for a break before going to the Saturday Bible study.

After the Bible study, I met back up with Iban and Abi. They were heading over to Adrian's house to hang out and have some pizza. I stayed at Adrian's for quite some time and met French Julie and a couple guys with Basque names I can't remember. We watched some fútbol (soccer), and talked. While there, I was trying to hear from the other auxiliares who said they were getting together tonight. Also, I was trying to help out Bryce who was in Bilbao for the night and looking for a good time. Bryce came to Adrian's, and then at 11 we left and met Pinky (Irish Debbie, long story how she got the nickname) and had some drinks before meeting the rest of the group at the metro stop. We all went to a club called Fever. Things with English names here sell better apparently. I made it home around 5am.

Irish Debbie "Pinky" and Australian Steph

The next thing I knew i was getting a call at around 10am from Abi to tell me she was buying a ticket for me. We had arranged to meet up around 11am, but I really didn't know what I was getting myself into, just that we were going to some mountain with a funny name. I got ready as fast as I could, but not very fast, and I wasn't going to make it to where I needed to be by 11. I only had a vague idea of where I was meeting them. I alternated sprinting and speed walking down the streets of Bilbao to get there, and when I arrived, there was a huge crowd on the bridge and all along the side of the river. I called Abi to figure out where they were, and they were in the crowd. I finally caught up with them and learned what was going on. It was the first annual Martxa Popular public hike up the nearby peak called Artxanda.

What started in confusion turned into the best day of my life in Spain thus far. I was part of crowd of 4,500 bilbaínos, joined with them to raise money for a charity, despite the off-and-on rain. I walked through parts of Bilbao I hadn't seen yet and saw amazing views of the city.

Throughout the hike I talked with Iban, Abi, Giselia, Jon, and Giselia's dad Luis, learning more about Bilbao, Spain, Spanish, and each of them individually. I hadn't spoken English all day, and some time in the middle of the hike, I forgot that I was an English speaker trying to remember how to say things in Spanish; I was just talking with friends with little concern about correct grammar and conjugation.

Jon, Luis, Iban, Abi y yo

We continued talking as we waited for over an hour in a long line to receive our pintxos and gift that came with our ticket purchase. Afterward, I went home and had a siesta before meeting up with Bryan at Plaza Moyúa before church at 6pm. Bryan is another auxiliar who just arrived on Friday. I invited him to church via Facebook, and he was pretty excited about checking it out.

After I got my all-too-necessary coffee, we went to church where Bryan met everyone. He, as I was, was immediately loved on and plugged in. He's going to lead worship next Sunday. Bryan can play the guitar, and they're stoked about having him. He's also stoked about having been plugged in so quickly. I was also asked to plan a skit for the four kids to do around Christmas time. It's funny because I woke up one day this week and realized how much I missed theater and wished I could get involved with it again. I was also asked to give a brief statement on Sunday about anything I want. I think they take turns doing so, and it's already my turn. We'll see what I can come up with for both of these things. One thing's for sure: this church is not one who will let its members stand idly by. Three weeks ago, there was only one person in her 20s who went to the church. Now there are 5 of us, and she is really pumped about being able to spend time together. God has big things in store for this little church that loves Him, and it will be fun to see it all pan out. Sunday also happened to be Anne's 12th birthday.

Anne with her birthday dessert called brazo de gitano (gypsy's arm) as Andrea looks on

Today (Monday) I did domestic things like cook, clean, and do laundry before meeting up with Bryan to go to the men's prayer meeting. This group of guys is really uplifting. When I came home I cooked up the bulgogi (Korean food) that was marinating while I was gone, and now I'm up way too late. I have to get up early for my second round of chaos!

Does anyone's first day of work ever go as planned?

My first day teaching was a disaster!

It's been a while since my last update, mostly because I haven't felt like I've done anything very noteworthy. A big part of it had just been trying to get used to everything. I'm proud to say that I no longer need a map to get to the most important places, and I can even explore alternate routes to places without fear of getting lost. I'll try to sum up the highlights of the last 11 days. If you only want to read about my first day of work, skip to the paragraph that starts with "Today."

Last Tuesday, I went to Vitoria, the capital city of País Vasco. I got up early and took a bus there with little knowledge of exactly where I was going. So, I walked all around Vitoria, soaking in the oldness of it all. The Casco Viejo of Vitoria was a lot like that of Bilbao, with narrow streets between tall buildings, but Vitoria had what seemed like older cobblestone. Though I wasn't surrounded by hills like in Bilbao, it wasn't Oklahoma flat, and it was interesting to see escalators built into the road right alongside cobblestone stairs and ramps.

Eventually, I got tired of my photo-taking walk and I headed for the orientation, which seemed more like an orientation for the teachers than for the teaching assistants. I learned that most auxiliares had gotten a ride from their teachers, and that my school wasn't nearly as involved as most others. The reception was an hour's worth of non-stop Spanish, and not having had my morning cup of joe, it was difficult to stay focused. Despite my effort, they didn't provide us with any useful information there. The only thing good about it was that they served us free wine and pintxos afterward. I also got to meet more auxiliares from various parts of País Vasco, some of whom I hung out with a little longer in Vitoria.

photo compliments of Claire

The next morning, we all went to Barakaldo, which is like a suburb of Bilbao to the north (its Edmond, if you will) via metro. I couldn't find the people I was meeting, so I called them and learned that they were already on the platform, and I had maybe a minute to get down there from the surface. I raced down the stairs and escalators and made it just as everyone was getting on the train.

In Barakaldo over the next couple of days, we went to various workshops where they quickly presented to us as many classroom activities as they could fit into only 4 hours of presentation. One thing about Spain so far is that it seems like they're very serious about breaks. As soon as any meeting starts, I am immediately told when the break will be. I guess it's to be expected from the country that invented the siesta.

While I'm on that topic, that has been strange to get used to. People work from 8/9am-2pm. They don't eat lunch here until everything closes down (except restaurants) from 2-4 every day. Thus, for the past few days, I've made myself a pretty substantial breakfast. Then everybody goes back to work and everything (except banks) reopens from 4-7/8, which requires them to have dinner right before they go to bed. This is a big oversimplification of how different the daily schedule feels here.

I can walk through Plaza Indautxu at various times of the day, and each time it will have a different kind of people with a different feel: professional businessmen on their way to work in the morning; moms, babies, and retired people out shopping during the day; entire families enjoying each other at lunch; kids playing soccer after school in the afternoon; old couples doing a paseo (the Spanish customary evening stroll) in the evening, and groups of teens with kalimotxo (mixture of cheap red wine and coke) after about 10pm.

Back to Barakaldo: very informative, and mostly useful, though I had little idea of what my school's expectations of me would be. I was shocked when one of the classroom conversation topics they advocated was a sex column that was graphic enough to get a teacher fired in the States.

After orientation on Wednesday, everybody and their dogs went to IKEA, since the one in Barakaldo is the only one in the region. I had never been to any IKEA before, though everyone talks like it's the best thing in the world. I didn't have the best experience. All I wanted to buy were sheets, but I bought two sets of bottom sheets because they were mis-racked, and I still don't know why they don't sell them in sets. I returned the more expensive one with little difficulty, though, and they gave me a coupon for a free coffee for my mistake.

On Friday, I had dinner with the Ochoa family, which was entirely various kinds of meat, until Mariluz brought the bread. I just thought it was interesting, but I don't think they thought anything of it. She and I are the only ones who like salad. Tony calls salad "sheep food." It was nice to get a good meal after a week of cereal and pintxos. I was still trying to figure out the grocery store and what all I could make with what they had.

The last two Saturday and Sunday evenings, I have gone to the church that Tony leads. On Saturday, there's a bible study over John, and on Thursday there's a service in which Tony is going through Romans. They don't have a building but meet in a classroom that is in the building where Tony works. Even though I've never seen more than 15 of us together in that room, I love their fellowship, and they have such an authentic love for God and concern for others. Also, without this church I would have little to no connection to any native bilbaínos.


Last weekend, I also learned why Bilbao has more umbrella holders than trash cans. Luckily I bought a really good umbrella from a chino (discount stores with all your daily needs, always run by Chinese people). I'm sure I'll be using that word in future blog posts.

Sunday after church (which is in the evening, remember), I met some friends at a bar for salsa night. No, not Picante Sauce but dancing. Another auxiliar from Wisconsin had some salsa experience and wanted to try it out. I and my Irish friend Debbie and my British friend Ben mostly just watched until two more auxiliares came who I hadn't met: Steph from Australia, and Kelly from Belgium. Kelly knew how to dance. She taught me a couple moves and made me feel really comfortable not knowing what I was doing. We plan to return tomorrow night for free salsa lessons.

Monday I planned to meet up with couchsurfers (www.couchsurfing.org), but they weren't where I thought they'd be, so I wandered around for a little while with Irish Debbie until we ran into other auxiliares, one of whom had the phone number of the guy who leads a lot of couchsurfing events in Bilbao. Communication was difficult over the phone, but I eventually made it to his house where we hung out and talked before going to Oktoberfest in Deusto, which is the college-y part of Bilbao (its Norman, if you will). Oktoberfest was lame at first because the music was so loud that I couldn't communicate and didn't think it was worth it. For some reason, though, I decided to stay, and I met a lot of young native bilbaín@s along with two girls from Buenos Aires. So I ended up speaking a lot of Spanish and having a really good time, especially when they switched to techno music after the Germans were done playing.

Tuesday evening I watched Pilgrim's Progress at church. It was dubbed in Spanish, but thankfully they provided me with English subtitles. It was interesting to see English lip movements that matched the words I read while hearing Spanish. I had never read or seen Pilgrim's Progress, though I had heard about it, and it was pretty good. It's a rather complex allegory of the Christian life, and it left a lot of contemplation to be done afterward. I'm surprised that I don't remember hearing about it in my Western Civ class.

I thought that I'd be working on Wednesday, but I was met with more orientation. My advisor, Javier,  gave me a schedule and we ironed out some other details. He also bought me a café con leche, so I can't complain. I will be working with 12 different classes each week, which means I see each group of kids only once each week. This also means that potentially, I only need to have one set of activities planned for each week. I also observed two of Javier's classes. I found it interesting that his 15-16 yr. old students who he taught in English were more capable than his 17-18 yr. old students who he taught in Spanish.

Today (or yesterday, since it's after midnight here) I had my first teaching experience here in Spain. It was awful. Javier had told me that I would be left alone to teach the students, so I prepared a couple activities for the three hour-long classes. This required getting to school early to print something off and make copies. Such a simple task took much longer than expected, and I was only able to make copies for the first activity. I had no idea how many students to expect, so I guessed. When I got to the classroom the teacher said something to the effect of "Good luck working with the animals," and she took off, glad for a break. There were nearly thirty students in the first cycle of ESO (12-13 years old). I ran short a few copies of the activity, of course, and made some students share. It turned out that I didn't even need the second activity because there were enough students to draw out the first one. The students were really rude and loud throughout the whole activity. When I asked them to be quiet so I could hear what a student was saying, they would all shout at each other to be quiet and become even louder. Halfway through class, some older students came to class apparently from the nurse's office to tell me that I needed to bring my students down so they could all get some vaccine. Learning that they'd all be getting a shot, any control I may have had vanished as they screeched in terror. Trying to figure out what was going on, I walked down the hall to talk to an adult, followed by noisy kids. One by one teachers came out of classrooms to tell them (us?) to be quiet. At the end of the hall, the nurse told me that the kids were supposed to come down in prearranged groups of some sort. I did my best to gather them back up, but they remained out-of-control for the rest of the hour. A student from the classroom next door came in to ask me to make them be quiet because they were taking a test. One of my students told me after he left that this was payback for his class banging on the wall the last time they had a test. I don't know how an auxiliar who didn't speak any Spanish could have survived here.

My second class was with about 20 students from the second cycle (a year older than the first class). When the teacher came, she hadn't been expecting me and had already prepared a lesson for the day that was very important for their upcoming test. So, she went along with her plans, and occasionally used me to read something off. Luckily, she wants to work with me in the future to do something in her class that relates better the material they're working with. The students were pretty disrespectful and resistant to learning the whole time, but nowhere near as bad as the younger students.

My third class had about 15 third-cycle students of my adviser. I had them all to myself and felt prepared to deal with such a small group. They behaved extraordinarily well, and they participated well. However, since there were so few of them and since they behaved and participated so well, we finished the activity so fast that I had 30 minutes to kill with nothing prepared. So, I tried to start conversation after conversation, picking things out of thin air to ask them. I'm grateful that even when the class slowed, they remained participative and respectful. We did speak a lot of English and we did learn a lot about each other, so the hour was not unproductive. I learned among other things that one of my students (who looks like the lead actor in Sky High) wants to be a professional bullfighter, and he practices every day. Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullfighting (or Hemingway) for more info on how cool that is. I also asked them what they knew about the United States, and these were the only things they gave me, in order of what they thought of first:

1. It's big.
2. They eat a lot of bad food.
3. They're all really fat.

I'm not too bummed about my first day because I really didn't know what to expect, but now I have a better understanding of what awaits me next Tuesday.

 After school I got a few groceries, then went to an Irish Pub called Dubliners where they have intercambio language exchange every week, and I got to meet a few new people there.

I look forward to planning some trips outside of Bilbao and seeing some things in Bilbao I haven't seen yet ...like the inside of "the Goog."

Home Dulce Home

This new chapter in my life began with the longest day of my life. I woke up at 7:00 am, finished packing, and left for the airport. I said my goodbyes and went through security. I made it into the last available seat on the flight to Dallas. I know this because I overheard an AA worker tell the girl on the standby list whose name was right after mine that she'd have to wait.

I flew to Dallas from 10:35 to 11:35, and as soon as I got to Dallas, I began praying that I'd make it onto my flight to Madrid. If I didn't make it on this one, I'd have to wait 24 hours for the next flight and arrive to Madrid in the middle of a general strike. Bob, Raliegh's dad who is giving me the hook-up on flying standby, called when I got to Dallas to inform me that the chances of getting on it didn't look very good. The flight was overbooked by 2 revenue passengers and there were a couple people ahead of me on the standby list. He kept saying, "It's not pretty." So, after eating and napping for several hours, I heard one of the AA workers at the gate call my name. She gave me a ticket, and suddenly my concerns melted away.

Right after that, I saw a guy waving at me. I pointed to myself with a quizzical look to make sure that it was me he wanted, and he nodded. I walked over and met two of the people who were in my program. We hung out with each other for the rest of the trip and gradually met more of us. There were at least seven of us on the flight in the program, but no one else was going to the Basque Country. The flight was delayed by about an hour because they had to change planes, but I was just glad to be getting on the flight.

We finally boarded, and I sat down next to a quiet man, who I soon learned did not know English. So, of course I struck up a Spanish conversation with him. His name was Joaquín and he was a professional dancer returning home to Cádiz from Santa Barbara. I managed to find his website a few minutes ago: http://www.joaquingrilo.com/

The flight lasted for what felt like forever, and I couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried. Joaquín got really upset because the sound on the flight wasn't working, so I let him watch a movie on my laptop. Eventually, day came along with Madrid and new adventures.

After getting my baggage, I found the bus that goes to the bus station. On this bus I met a family of Chinese tourists who spoke English but no Spanish. After I bought my bus ticket without a problem, I got to play translator for them. Then I found a payphone to tell Tony when I'd arrive in Bilbao.

As I waited for my bus (less than an hour), I started talking to three spunky Australian girls. They watched by bags while I bought a "pintxo" and a water. It felt good to be able to do so much with my Spanish.The bus trip to Bilbao was awful. The man next to me had horrible BO that I smelled for 5 hours. And, I still couldn't sleep. The countryside was pretty, though. Not flat like OK, and I think they were harvesting sunflowers.

When I finally arrived at the Bilbao bus station, I saw Tony after waiting a couple of minutes. He led me to his car where I met his daughter and learned to do the double cheek kiss when saying hello or goodbye to women. I'd get more practice with this later. We dropped Anne off at the conservatorio for her piano lessons and then Tony took me to a nice hostel where he'd already booked me three nights. Meanwhile, in the car, he gave me a phone that he had already bought and charged. I wouldn't have to go through that hassle and could already start making and receiving calls. He left me at the hostel to shower and settle, and then he returned. We picked Anne up and then went to their house for dinner. We finally dined at around 10:00, which is a fairly normal time for dinner here.

Tony had already found me a room, but it was not yet available because the girl who lived there before me hadn't moved out. So, I ended up staying only 2 nights in the hostel, and on Friday I moved into the hostel.

But, back to the dinner. It went well. It was good to meet the family, and they didn't expect the gifts that I brought for them. We ate pumpkin soup and squid and the other things that you can see the pictures. Around the dinner table, I was reminded how little Spanish I know, as I kept asking them to repeat themselves. For some reason, I can understand Tony pretty well, but not so much his wife María Luz and kids Aitor and Anne.

After dinner, Tony dropped me off at the hostel, and I slept for 11 hours. Thus, I missed breakfast in the hostel, but I only had to wait a couple hours until lunch. Tony had me come over for lunch and dinner all week for authentic Basque foods as I transition. 

There were several people in my program who were staying in the hostel, and I got to meet them. Most of them were freaking out about finding a place to live, and I felt extremely fortunate that I could think about other things.

I walked over to Tony's house using handy maps that they had in the hostel. I walked the wrong way at first but this allowed me to see a pretty part of town that I later took pictures of.

To get to Tony's after I figured out where I was, I walked along the beautiful river that was filled with visible fish. I was soaking in the newness. It was kind of like the riverwalk in Tulsa, except that it was in Spain, and therefore a lot cooler. As I was walking through the city I noticed some similarities to Buenos Aires, like their weird hair styles, man purses, and listening to English music, but there's a different aura here in Bilbao. The people seem more relaxed and less desperate to make it financially. The city is cleaner, more organized, and more artistic. Unfortunately for you, I'm not in a big rush to take a lot of photos since I'll be here so long. I've been focusing more on getting settled and learning how to live here.

Kata Cox, whom I had met on Facebook, joined the Ochoas and me for dinner on Wednesday night. At the hostel that night I couldn't sleep a wink, even though there was no one else in the room.

The next morning, I had to wake up extra early to go the the comisario (police station) to get an appointment to get my Foreigner Identification Card. Luckily, the delay that Spain is known for didn't affect me much. I was fortunate to be with other auxiliares (people in my program) who were in my shoes. Somehow trying to figure it all out is made so much easier when others are with you. We were in a long line waiting for 2 hours or so to get in the building, but it didn't seem so bad, especially not after I got my coffee, which was just as strong and marvelous as Argentine coffee.

After that, I went to Tony's for lunch, and after eating, I moved into my new place, met the landlady, signed the contract, had a tour of the flat, and unpacked. I'm kind of off by myself in a corner of the flat; it's really cozy and has everything I need.

After I unpacked, I decided to take a stroll around my neighborhood and the city. At first I was soaking it in, but then I gradually began to realize how different and new everything was. Simple things like when to push and pull doors is a new challenge. Using elevators and intercoms, communicating with doormen, knowing where to buy what. There's no Wal-mart here. I went into a supermarket and didn't recognize anything. They don't refridgerate milk and keep it in liter-size boxes. There was no fruit. For that I had to go to a fruit store. And there was a whole wall full of different brands of white asparagus!

Eventually, I got tired of walking around aimlessly, and I decided to see if I could go to the Ochoas' early. Tony was still at the conservatorio, so I called the landline, and Aitor answered. I had a hard time understanding him. I got to the building and entered the number to ring them. The door opened for me. I went by memory to the elevator, but I was trying to follow directions that Tony had given me. I could have sworn they lived on the seventh floor, but it was only the third, so I knocked on the door that I thought was theirs, and some lady just shouted at me without opening the door. I went down to leave the building and I couldn't get out. I don't know if all I had to do was push and I was pulling or what, but at the time it was frustrating. I went back up the elevator to try it again, but was met with the same lady, so I decided to give up and just walk back to my flat. Somehow the door opened on my second try.

I'm glad I went home because I got to meet two of my flatmates, Sergio and Itxiar, who were very nice and helpful but still spoke extremely fast. Since then, I haven't really seen anyone who I live with. Apparently they pretty much keep to themselves. When I returned to the Ochoas' for dinner, I learned that my disappearance had caused quite a stir, and I felt really bad about it. They couldn't believe that I had gotten lost after having been there 4 times already!

Friday morning, I went back to the comisario with all my stuff they requested, and I didn't have to wait long at all. By the time I left I had my Foreigner Identification Number (just as useful as a card), and with it I opened a bank account. Soon after that I met Javier Elias at the school where I'm working, and she showed me around and introduced me to the other teachers. They were fascinated to hear that I was from Oklahoma, and they wanted to hear more about the Wild West. One teacher asked, "Are there ranches there?" and "Does everyone carry a gun?" The English professors seemed to enjoy practicing their English with a native speaker, too. I found out that the Australian auxiliar at my school last year was 60 years old, and he didn't speak Spanish and wasn't very involved. The teachers seemed relieved upon meeting me. I also learned that I'm only working 3 days a week, Tuesday through Thursday from 8:30 to 12:30, which is what I hoped for and will give me lots of free time. Afterward, I went to the bank again, to get a seal to return to my school so I can get paid. While there, I decided to play with the ATM machine. They have ATM machines there both to withdraw and to deposit cash. An old Spanish lady in front of me was trying to use the one to deposit money, but she couldn't figure it out. After she gave up and got in line to talk to a human, I fiddled around with it while she watched, and finally figured it out. I felt pretty accomplished. I looked back at the old lady, and she gave me a congratulatory look.

After lunch at Tony's I went home and took a siesta because I was pretty tired. They're only supposed to be 30 minutes or so, but that wasn't enough for me. Eventually I got up and started getting ready to go out to dinner with the other auxiliares, but when I tried to leave my flat, I had been locked in! I lifted the latch and turned the key, but no matter what i did, the door wouldn't open! I called the landlady, and she called her husband who was downstairs where they live. He came up with his key to show me how to unlock it. In doing so, he came in the apartment, shut the door behind him, lifted the latch and turned the key, but the door wouldn't open for him either. So, I was locked in my flat with a middle-aged Basque man for 30 minutes while we waited on his wife to get there. In the meantime, he complained about everything under the sun, telling me that 100% of Spaniards are complete idiots, including his wife, who was taking too long. It was also their prime minister Zapatero's fault some how. I just thought that it was really funny.

Me being late didn't do any harm to my dinner plans. I went to Plaza Nueva and had pintxos and wine with the other auxiliaries until 2am. It was nice to meet them.

Thus Saturday, I slept really late, and soon after waking went to Tony's for lunch, followed by their Saturday bible study, followed by a meal. It was fun getting to meet the people there. There was Mexican girl and a Peruvian guy there which surprised me, but which is pretty representative of all of the immigration that Bilbao has had over the last decade.

Even though I slept late, I got tired early and went to sleep and woke up fairly late on Sunday. This morning I tried to do some shopping only to find that most things are closed on Sunday other than restaurants. I did, however buy 4 nectarines for only €0.63 at the fruit store. Now I'm off to get some coffee, walk around, and go to church at 6:00pm. 

Looks like my intentions of short blogging aren't too successful, but once there are less things to tell, maybe I'll get better at it.


This last photo is on the way to church: