In Caceres, at Last

Hola desde Cáceres, España. I'm currently in the library on a weird wifi connection that keeps failing, so let´s see if I can make it through the whole post. I don't have wifi in my new apartment, which is why I'm here at the lib. That's the one downside to my apartment, which is otherwise lovely, luminous, cheerful, and cheap. I live with two Spanish guys and a guy from Portugal (and his dog, which no one mentioned until after I moved in and who appeared one day out of the blue in the kitchen, but that's fine).

Anyways, to backtrack...the rest of Scotland was swell as hell. What stands out most from the last few days is a trip I took to St. Andrew's, a coastal town north of Edinburgh, with Antonio, his friend and his cousin. We had to resort to taking a convertible, since it was the last rental car available, but I can't say I minded much.

 My flight from Edinburgh to Madrid was delayed, which ended up being lucky, because staying an extra night led me to meet an acquaintance of Antonio's named Javi, who happened to have the same flight as me to Madrid the next morning. We then happened to have the same train, as we were both going to the Province of Cáceres. Since I was homeless at that point, I got to stay with him and his mom for a few nights and eat her delicious cooking while they helped me get my feet on the ground. Definitely an ideal way to ease into the confusion.

And since then, the people here have been nothing but helpful. One of the teachers at my school and her sister have helped me get a residence card and set up a bank account, and a random old woman even walked with me to a grocery store when I couldn't find one. Javi and I also received a voluntary, free guided tour of the ancient part of the city one day. (An old man was pacing around the cobblestone streets, presumably in search of youngins with whom he could share his wealth of knowledge).

Cáceres is cute, with palm trees and lots of little shops. I can't say it's quite as beautiful as Granada, but then again, I can't imagine anywhere being as nice as Granada. And, of course, I've only been here less than a week and still have much to explore.

My students are also quite cute, maybe even cuter than Cáceres. Today was my first day, and I taught a class of kindergarteners, third-graders, and sixth-graders how to say "my name is," how to pronounce "crocodile," how to talk about our favorite hobbies, etc. I also had to explain to an inquisitive girl that  Americans come in all colors when she asked if all Americans are "blancos" like me.

I'm still trying to comprehend that this is my life for the next eight months. I keep switching between feeling extremely happy and excited and extremely terrified. But this is Extremadura, after all, so my extreme emotions have a place here.

P.S. Sorry, the internet is too slow for any pictures. 

Greeting from Edinburgh!

Right now, I'm sitting in bed in a windowless room hardly bigger than a broom closet. But don't worry--I don't usually spend my days in Scotland this way. The past eight days have been filled with plenty of culture and excursions.

Walter Scott Monument

Some highlights:
a) Going on a tour of the city. Among the many sites the guide showed us was a graveyard where JK Rowling would stroll around to get inspiration...there was a grave for Tom Riddell himself there! I also got to see a big stone block that back in the day was a punishment site for beggars (those considered too able-bodied to be on the streets begging would get their ears nailed to it).
b) Seeing an exhibit of fashion in paintings at the City Art Centre. Seeing portraits of well-dressed humans is always pleasant.
c) Climbing up the Walter Scott Monument (although the staircases are extremely narrow so passing people going the opposite direction involved plenty of awkward maneuvering).
d) Going to the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. But I have to say, I enjoyed the area outside the museum more than the museum itself. Surrounding the museum are a bunch of grass-covered hills that spiral around pools of water. The mounds were slippery from raindrops, so Antonio (my friend who I'm staying with here in Edinburgh) and I slid down them on paper bags. It was like sledding but better because there was no snow involved!
e) Seeing some bloke get himself out of a bunch of metal chains and a straight jacket in just a few minutes.
f) Touring the Edinburgh Castle. I especially liked seeing the war prisons. Prisoners would use bones from their meat rations and straw from their bedding to construct beautifully intricate jewelry boxes, which they would sell to townspeople...crazy what people can do when they have enough time on their hands. I also enjoyed the fact that while all other prisoners received 1.5 lbs of bread per day, Americans were officially regarded as pirates, so their daily ration of bread was a mere 1 lb.
g) The coffee. Europeans make it so much better. I especially liked having coffee at the Elephant Cafe, which is where JK Rowling would sit while writing the first Harry Potter books.
h) The accent. Everyone always seems incredibly pleasant, but I doubt they're actually pleasanter than anyone else--it's just that the accent itself gives them a very cheery affect. Despite how appealing it is, the accent can at times prove a bit difficult to decipher (like when a bus driver recommended I get off at West End and I thought he said "Way Stain" and experienced a good five minutes of confusion).
i) Arthur's Seat. (Hills formed by volcanoes 350 million years ago). They're in the middle of Holyrood Park, an astoundingly pretty place. Walking up Arthur's Seat was breathtaking literally and figuratively (it's super steep so by the time I got to the top, I had to lay there for quite a while to regain energy).

View from Arthur's Sear

Lowlight (luckily it's quite outnumbered by all the highlights):
This morning I decided to be nice and keep Antonio company on his trek to work. I assumed I'd easily make it back because it seemed like we only made a few turns. But on the way back, it appears that I missed one of those turns because I kept ending up at various dead ends. I wouldn't have minded all the detours so much if it weren't for the fact that it was raining, I'd just bought a heavy bag of groceries, and I needed to use the bathroom. There were plenty of buses I could have hopped on, but I was determined to walk for some reason. However, I just kept getting myself more and more lost (which I've found is easy to do in the neighborhoods here since all the streets look exactly the same and have the same names... in this case, they were all Grange Pound, Grange Crest, Grange Terrace, etc.). Eventually I gave in and took a bus, but I didn't have the right amount of change, so I had to go around asking fellow bus-riders for change while trying not to fall over/drop my umbrella and shopping bag as the bus went around bends. So that's kind of the reason why I'm now sitting in Antonio's prison cell of a room, where I'm safe and dry, rather than roaming around like I usually do. But the city center itself is very navigable. I just don't plan on meandering around neighborhoods again. Anyways, I guess I'll go cook some of the food I bought today since I spent so much time lugging it around, after all.

Cheers, peers!

Adios, America

I'm back and soon to embark on Spain Trip #2! (Well, technically it'll be my third time in Spain...during winter break I couldn't stay away and ended up going back to Granada for a rainy but delightful week). This time I'll be there longer than ever (September 23rd til probably sometime in June of next year!) But I'm in fact leaving for Europe tonight to spend twelve days in Scotland before migrating southwards to Spain. I finally finished stuffing all I could fit into my bags last night, although I haven't actually dared to zip them up yet...we'll see how that goes.

I'm a little anxious, but if I were heading straight to Spain, I'd be unbelievably, incredibly, and overwhelmingly nervous (I probably wouldn't be writing this right now because my shaking fingers would make it impossible). After all, this time I'm not heading back to Granada for another carefree study abroad adventure of sangria-sipping and beach-hopping. I'm destined for Extremadura (even the name is terrifying!) to be una auxiliar de conversación (a conversation assistant). I basically signed up to teach kids English in Spain, and the Spanish government assigned me two schools that are an hour away from each other by car in remote towns in Extremadura. I'll hopefully be able to live in Cáceres, a beautiful Roman city in Extremadura with palaces galore, and I'll probably be able to carpool with teachers to the two schools. It would be a long commute but worth it to live in a pretty city rather than tiny towns. However, I'm not 100% sure this will be possible since those in charge of the program don't seem too interested in communicating with the auxiliares about anything. I'm also not even sure what age students I'll be teaching, or what types of classes I'll have, or really much of anything, for that matter. You'd think this type of information might have been relayed to me by now, as it's already September...but auxiliares from previous years say the Spanish government likes to delay everything as much as they possibly can and that I'll find out what exactly I'm doing the day I need to do it. In the meantime, I'll try and be zen about everything and not worry too much about the fact that I'll arrive there homeless, without a Spanish bank account, and with just a vague sense of purpose.

The weird thing is tonight I'll be leaving the country for 8+ months, which is nerve-wracking, but before all the craziness starts, I'll get to have a little vacation in Edinburgh, which is not so nerve-wracking. Plus, I think I'll fit right in in Scotland since I've recently been in the habit of calling everyone "lads" and "lasses." So it's hard to know if I should be nervous about the looming Extremadura experience or excited for my holiday in the UK. But in the meantime I'll go eat some French toast since I don't know when I'll get the chance to again!

I'll never leave you, dearest España

I must say, with a frown, that these blog posts are now winding down. Soon enough, I'll be back in Western Mass and my time in Spain will be of the past. Of course I'm overjoyed to see my family and friends, but I can't quite grasp that it's nearly the end. Writing that made my stomach writhe with doom...the last day's sure gonna hit me with gloom. I'm not sure why I'm writing in rhyme, but getting feelings out through rhymin' is always better than cryin'.

OK enough of THAT. It's just hard to imagine using cars to get to bars rather than walking everywhere on foot through a city where you see something dazzling everywhere you look. Or ordering drinks that DON'T come with a free plate of eggplants with honey, risotto with cheese, salmorejo with avocado, spiced garbanzo beans, etc. The Sierra Nevada will no longer be my backdrop when I go for runs. The Alhambra will no longer be my neighbor. If I could haul everyone I care about over to Spain and stay here forever, my life would be ideal. But unfortunately, some of them have jobs and other such commitments...so I guess I'll have to go back home and yearn for the day I can frolic in Andalucía once again.

I guess I'll stop feeling sorry for myself now--as there are worse problems in the world than having to go home from Europe--and update you on some events I recently partook in:

-Embarked on a two-day beach trip to Nerja last weekend with some of my lovely friends. We soaked up the sun (I managed to only get a few awkward sunburn patches in the inches of skin that escaped suncreen); went swimming (it was warm enough that my body didn't go instantly numb like the last time I tried to swim in Nerja); came upon a plaza where sat 20-something, seemingly ownerless cats (surreal to the max); ate Indian food and left artistic scenes of napkins enveloping sauces on the table to impress the waiters before we left (wish you'd been there, Natalya); dragged our curry-filled bodies through the streets in search of souvenirs (as luck would have it, we spotted multi-colored woven hats--complete with brims and pointed tops--which we put on and glared all passersby who's dare smirk at us).

Nerja aka Paradise

-Spent the week neglecting work and sleep in attempt to drain the last grain from my dwindling time in Spain. This involved consumption of many tapas, sangrias, mojitos, batidos, and gelato.

-Went to the program's farewell dinner, which seemed arbitrary, as there are still so many days left in Spain! (Five is a lot--don't tell me it's not). Proceeded from there to Plaza de Toros to attend Spain's Oktoberfest (Spaniards can't wait all the way until October to drink beers so they have it in May). It was boring as well as unpleasant (getting projectile vomited on isn't one of my favorite activities) but now I can at least say I've been in a bullfighting ring (and I didn't even have to see any bulls get killed! And, in fact, I'd rather get puked on than see bulls get killed) so I guess it was worth it? Plus, after getting fed up with catcalls from drunkards, my friends and I went around pretending to be men and yelling in low voices "Hola, guapo, que guapo eres" the same way they do to us. ("Guapo" means "good-looking" but we'd say it to everyone, no matter what they looked like, just to make them feel awkward...and it worked). So once we started doing that, the night got more amusing.

-Went to the beach in Salobreña yesterday, where we spent the first part of the day sitting in cafes and trying to avoid the wind. Once the wind became less violent, we proceeded back to the beach. My plan was to study on the beach, which I learned is an oxymoron.

-Now it's Sunday before exams, prime study day. Which is why I'm procrastinating with this blog. And now that this blog is done, I think I'll continue to procrastinate by going on a run.

Explorations Galore

I've been embarking on quite a few trips recently and have had quite a few cosas en mi plato en general (things on my plate in general...not sure if that's an actual Spanish expression but I've decided to make it one)...so that's my explanation for the negligence of this poor blog.

I'll tell you about the first trip first: on April 21, my program took the group on a day trip to la Alpujarra, a region of mountain villages on the southern side of the Sierra Nevada with charming, typical Berber architecture (small, white houses with flat clay roofs). First we ventured around the precious town of Capileira, then headed on a hike consisting of grand views of majestic mountaintops, as is to be expected in the Sierra Nevada, where the views are never too shabby. We eventually made it to Pampaneira, where I had my first eggplant with honey, which is a specialty of the region and quite tasty. We also found a store with a massive array of chocolate samples, so yeah...it was quite a nice day.

Next up: Switzerland! (April 26 to May 1). I don't even know where to begin to describe my love for this land of delicious cheese and fairytale views. Here are some highlights:
-The family Althea and I stayed with in Zurich (thanks to their connections to Julia and my dad) was extremely helpful in our trip-planning, brought us on numerous expeditions, and gave us great food, including a lunch of "Raclette," which consists of melting an enormous circle of cheese in front of the fire, scraping the melted part onto plates, and dipping potatoes and veggies into it...nothing gets better than that! Also, the three kids were adorable and gave me a chance to practice my incredibly rusty German.
-We visited the Kursthaus Museum in Zurich, where we got to see art by all the masters, including Picasso, Monet, Manet, Gauguin, Chagall, Munch, and Pissaro, as well as a pretty interesting Swiss artist, Alberto Giaconetti. My favorite part of the museum, however, was when we passed through the Renaissance room and heard shrill whines coming from the floor. Lo and behold, a tiny square of rug, maybe two by two inches, was cut away to display a screen with a bluish woman who seemed clearly agitated, although I couldn't understand what she was saying. (She might have been whining in French?) We peered at the pour soul for a while before a guard explained that it's part of an installation. We continued through the Renaissance art and on the the Impressionist pieces, but nowhere else did I find anything quite like that astonishing creature.
-The family brought us to Interlaken, where we took a tram-like device up to Harder Kulm, a smaller slope of the Alps. From there we had a fantastic view of the snow-capped portion of the Alps. They then took us to Bern, the capitol of Switzerland, where dwell the emblematic Bern bears. Houses from 800 years ago lie in the center, which is surrounded by water and little bridges. It was ranked among the top ten cities for best quality of life. I'm not exactly sure how one goes about measuring quality of life, but I don't doubt people live well there. It's unbelievably charming.
-We took a boat to a boulder next to the Rhinefalls, stood on top, and lounged in thire misty spray.
-Rappersville, with its castle and restaurants along the coast, was another highlight. Like Bern, it has houses that seem to spring right out of children's books. The photo below will explain what I mean:

-You can spend all day walking around Zuich (we did spend all of one day walking around it, as well as two other half-days). We got to see a church with windows created by Chagall and got to try fondue, which is decent, but doesn't compare to the slab of cheese melted by the fire.

Lastly, Cádiz, which was another program-sponsored adventure. We left on Friday and returned this evening. On the way there we stopped at El Torcal for a hike among the Jurassic age limestone. Although it had recently rained and it was a rough trek on the slippery mud, the view of the strangely-sculpted rocks was worth the pain. Plus, a fox followed us the whole way back, which was nice company to have (although she could well have had rabies) and a friendly herd of cows greeted us in the parking lot. Saturday morning through afternoon there was a torrential downpour that killed many umbrellas and made the tour of the city less-than-pleasant. But after returning to the hotel and taking a nap, it was like I awoke to a new day. Suddenly it was sunny and we could lounge and frolic at the beach, which was right outside our hotel. Today we had a spin around the ocean in a motorboat and then continued on our way to spend the rest of the day until our departure at the beach, where I soaked up the sun and went for a refreshing run along the water.

Now I'm back and have to face the real world (AKA homework I've been neglecting while being spoiled by these adventures).

Blueberries, cranberries, caffeine, and Sevilla

Another week has passed here in Granada. Here are a few recent observations:
-I've never associated hard, bitter cranberries with soft, sweet blueberries, but they share a word in Spanish (arándano), which makes no sense to me because they are completely different! But maybe if in English, blueberries and cranberries were both called "cranberries," and the emphasis on the blueness of blueberries was lifted off, they might be more linked in my mind. Strange how language can create or prevent associations between concepts.
-"Rum" is "ron" in Spanish. Thus, to Spaniards, "Ron Weasley" must sound like "Rum Weasley."
-"Manquito"means "one-armed" or "one-handed." "Tuerto" means "one-eyed." Are there more one-armed/one-handed/one-eyed people in Spanish-speaking countries than English-speaking countries, so that the existence of such words becomes necessary? The specificity of some Spanish words really impresses me. Spanish words tend to have more syllables than English words, and thus sentences tend to take longer to express, so I guess it makes sense and saves time to turn whole ideas into single words that can be uttered rapidly.
-When I listen to Spanish speakers and am overwhelmed by all the strange phrases they know, I start to realize that English also has its fair share of strange phrases. I tend to say them without second thought, but when I do put a second thought in, it occurs to me how confusing they must be to non-native speakers. For instance, how is it possible that "I'd be down for that" and "I'd be up for that" mean exactly the same thing? And why do we need to turn our alarm clocks off when they go off?
-Aside from language nuances, another aspect of Spain that never ceases to amaze me is the lack of pressure to hurry. I never realized how hurried Americans are until I came here. Every time my American friend and I hang out with our Spanish friends, we end up at the end of a block when they're still at the beginning of one. It's nearly impossible for us to remember to move as slowly as they do. For them, walking from one bar to the next is just as much part of the experience as being at the bars themselves. But we're Americans, so for us, it's always about what's next on the list. That said, I really do prefer walking quickly--I honestly find it easier.
-On the subject of the relaxed culture, Starbucks the one "American" café I've gone to here, was the only one that offered take-out coffee. And the small coffees at Starbucks are larger than the large coffees at all other cafés. At no other cafés would they understand the need to drink coffee on the go, rather than sitting and enjoying it, or the need for more than teacup's worth of caffeine to get through a day. I guess siestas here might be the alternative to caffeine.
-The weather is one thing that generally does seem to stress Spaniards more than Americans. On countless occasions, when the apartment has been perfectly well-heated, my host mother has insisted I'll get sick because I'm not wearing a sweater. And I get strange looks from everyone when I run in shorts and a T-shirt since it's April, rather than bundling up only to sweat all over my clothes. According to one of my professors, no one gets out their designated summer clothes until the end of May. All skin, regardless of the amount of heat, stays covered until then.
-Speaking of strange looks, here in Spain, everyone stares at everyone on the street. Apparently it's not considered rude, because everyone does it. No one, however smiles. In America, if you look at someone, you have to smile. If you aren't in the mood to smile, you look away and pretend not to see them. But in the majority of cases, you do want to look at people, because humans are interesting, but you don't want to always smile, because who wants to bare their teeth all day? So, my theory holds that Americans are generally less at ease with each other than Spaniards. Spaniards just stare and don't care. Nonetheless, I still smile because the necessity to do so is ingrained in me...and it would be nice if I received a smile in return every now and then.

Onto recent updates...since I last wrote, I visited the beach in Nerja again, where my special friend the adorable dog, who I bonded with last time, came running to me, amidst all the beach go-ers! It was a wonderful reunion and a wonderful day, warm enough to get in the water, but not warm enough to stay in for more than a split second. I'm surprised I was able to move my muscles enough to get myself out of the water because they went numb instantly.

On Tuesday, my friend Althea, the one I stayed with in Florence, and her mom, Shelley, spent a night in Granada. We saw a magnificent flamenco show that came with dinner and went to the Arab baths the next day, which weren't any less shabby than those in Córdoba. Again, I felt like a puffball afterwards. It was sad to say goodbye, but I'm going to Switzerland with her at the end of this month, so I can't complain too much.

The gardens of the Alcázar

Yesterday, I went to Sevilla with my roommate, Ally. Altogether we spent over six hours on the bus there and back, but it was well worth it between the sites we saw and the food we ate. First we saw the absolutely stunning cathedral and views of Sevilla from the Giralda Tower. Then we had lunch at Osteria L'Oca Giuliva, an Italian restaurant that I want to go back to every day for the rest of my time here (too bad it's three hours away). If any of you readers happen to go there, get the pasta with pears and Gorgonzola and/or the pizza with shrimp...scrumptious! We then went to the Alcázar, originally a Moorish fort, with upper levels that are to this day, residence of the royal family. The architecture is comparable to the Alhambra in terms of beauty, not to mention the lush gardens, home to a family of peacocks.


I just got back from a Spanish dubbed version of "The Vow" ("Todos los dias de mi vida") which was a decent chick flick, and I was glad I pretty much understood what was being said. Almost all the movies shown here are dubbed American movies. It's quite interesting seeing Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams speak in Spanish. I was planning to see the Titanic in 3D here in Spain, but I don't think I could handle strangeness of watching a Spanish Jack and Rose. It smells like dinner is on it's way. I'd best be off!

Semana Santa in Málaga and Córdoba

Friday: I woke up bright and early, super excited to see Dennis. Luckily, before I got on the bus to Málaga, it occurred to me that yes, Dennis might be leaving from New York Friday night, but that didn't mean I would see him Friday night in Spain. (In my excitement, I temporarily forgot about the six-hour time difference). So instead of seeing him that day, I spent two hours changing my bus tickets and moping around. (But I did get to see the Lorax in Spanish that night, so it was all good).

Saturday: Finally, the real day arrived to see Dennis. His uncle, Chuan and I met him at the Málaga airport, and Chaun drove us to his lovely neighborhood in Málaga, where we frolicked in the neighborhood park and then met Chuan's wife, Ni Jia and daughter, Xuan Xuan. Xuan Xuan is only eight but already is fluent in Chinese, Spanish, and English...which made me feel great about myself. Dennis' first dinner in Spain was at a Chinese restaurant. But the food was delicious and the fish was nice and fresh, since Málaga is on the coast, so I doubt he minded waiting to try Spanish food. (I know I'm in Spain and shouldn't say this, but Chinese food is better than Spanish food any day).

Sunday: We awoke bright and early for our bus ride to Córdoba. We had a bit of a scare when the guy at our hostel in Córdoba, Hostal la Fuente, told us we couldn't stay there unless we both could show passports (Dennis didn't have his) but after giving him lots of sad and confused looks, he let us in. The hostel was of the typical Córdoban style: white walls, lots of tiles, a large patio, and plants galore. Everywhere you look in Córdoba you see buildings like this. It's quite a fairytale land. The first thing we did, after eating a Spanish-style lunch, was see the Mezquita, a huge, breathtaking cathedral with a nice medley of Visigoth, Arab, and Christian influence. We wandered around the Jewish sector, payed homage to Maimonides, and visited the Synagogue, one of three in all of Spain, the other two being in Toledo. After a kebab dinner, we headed towards the hostel, but obviously the Semana Santa processions (parades honoring Christ that last the whole week and are especially popular in Andalusia) completely covered our street, and there was no way to get through. So we killed time at an overpriced but beautiful bar on a balcony overlooking the city.

La Mezquita

Monday: As I'd been confused about the timing of the trip due to my inability to grasp time differences, I'd booked us the wrong bus tickets back to Málaga, so we had to trek to the Córdoba station to get different tickets. On the way we saw some Roman columns and a mausoleum, both of which were kinda cool but maybe took more time to find than they were worth. We also explored the Calahorra Tower-Museum, which was interesting, but what I enjoyed even more than the museum was its location: it's situated on the Roman bridge overlooking the Guadalquivir river--quite a sight. After getting our new-and-improved bus tickets, we spent quite a chunk of time looking for the Palace of the Marqueses de Viana, but when we arrived it was closed. But it was OK because we had some nice sangrias at a nearby tapas place and then tried to just get lost in the city for a while, which wasn't that hard, considering we get lost even when we're not trying to. We stumbled on a middle school basketball game and pretended to be fans for a while, and when our stomachs started growling, we had some traditional Córdoban food.

Tuesday: The Castle of the Christian Monarchs greeted us in the morning, with its expanse of gardens and towers. It rained while we ate lunch and stopped raining right when we were done. The clouds were quite nice to us on the trip. We meandered around the  museum of Bellas Artes and Julio Romero de Torres (who's native to Córdoba) before having an early dinner of tapas (by early, I mean 7pm-- we definitely got some weird looks from the waiters for dining so "early"). Of course, the Semana Santa crowds decided again to congregate right in front of where we needed to be: the Hamman Arab Baths. This time, we pushed through with all our force because we had baths to get to! The toll that all the pushing took on our muscles was undone by the baths and massages. Afterwards I felt like a human cloud/cotton ball.

Wednesday: We trekked once again to the bus station to head back to Málaga, where we spent the afternoon with Chuan and Xuan Xuan at beaches in Maracas, Málaga, as well as an absolutely stunning park with plants and animals of all shapes and sizes, and then we headed to the port, which was a bit on the tacky side (very comparable to Virginia Beach).

Thursday: We went to Frigiliana, Málaga with Chuan and Xuan Xuan. I've decided I'm moving there. It's similar to Córdoba and parts of Granada with the Arab-influenced white houses, brightly-painted doors and windows, and potted plants. But what makes it especially special is that it's on a hill overlooking the sea. White cottages+seaside location=perfection.

Frigiliana!

Friday: Adios to Dennis, hola to Granada.

Saturday: Well, here I am blogging. Guess I'll go live my life now so I have more to blog about in the future. Buhbye.