I will warn you right now that this post is gonna be a doozy, so read at your own risk…or when you have some time to kill.
From Boadilla del Monte, I took a car, metro, bus, and taxi before arriving at my door in Salamanca. My heart beating a million times a minute, I rung up and madre was waiting in the doorway for me with a huge smile. Everything smelled the same. I especially remembered the stairwell. I realize this sounds strange, but it really brought on the nostalgia. Luis (padre) came in a little while later and, even being the cranky little old man that he is, told me he was happy to see me and gave me two very intentional kisses on my cheeks.
Madre reminded me where everything in “my” house was and told me to help myself to whatever I want! She said she’d have been mad at me if I had stayed anywhere else but her house in Sal. And when I told her that my bus would leave Sunday night she was upset I wasn’t staying longer, assuring me that the Madrid fam would understand if I changed my ticket to stay one extra day.
Mom, you should also know that she brought up your visit with Bekah again and how embarrassed she was that she didn't have a better meal prepared. She said that you were probably thinking, “what kind of house is this where my daughter has been living?!” She is ridiculous.
Almost immediately, I helped madre set the table and we ate alone together since Isa had taken Luis to the doctor (needed to check something out with his eye). One of the first things madre asked me was if my Madrid family was feeding me well because I was “so thin.” I assured her that now I am normal, only thinnER since last spring (I didn’t go into detail about how she played a pivotal role in my weight gain during my time in Spain).
Over lunch, I got caught up on all the Salamantino madre gossip and shared some of my nanny adventures over rigatoni with meat, cheese, and red sauce, chicken fillets with onion, butter, and garlic sauce, bread, and watermelon. She said she remembered I always loved everything (what an embarrassing reputation though, yikes)....followed by an obligatory siesta (nap)...after all, it's tradish in madre's household.
For those JMU students who have studied in Sal (or for those who were avid readers of my Salamanca blog), I feel obligated to report a few changes in the 'Manc since I left it last Spring: Isa is now blonde; “my room” now only has one bed (probably all it should have had in the first place) and is more like a sewing/storage room now;
...the trees outside my window are taller now and I can’t see as much of the street to the left towards Avenida Portugal; construction on Av. Portugal is finished and so is the Corte Ingles (department store);
...they’re building a new hotel near Casa de Las Conchas;
...many more Americans are also in Salamanca now vacationing or studying over the summer. Alexandra, this will pull a little at your heart strings: what used to be Pans (Spanish version of Subway) near the University is now a 50’s fast food diner;
And my roommate Allison will find this especially unfortunate: Isa informed me that she has internet in her room….whether this is a new installment or simply something we were hidden from before I will never know.
Regardless of the rainy afternoon, I couldn't wait to walk around. It was so strange and wonderful to be back, I just wished my JMU groupies could have been there to enjoy it with me. On my rounds, I knew I had to stop by Café del Arte. My bartender sort of smiled at me when I went to the bar to pay...I asked if he remembered me, and he did. He said he saw me when he walked in but wasn’t sure if it was really me. We caught up a bit and he told me the café con leche was on him!
Next, I walked through Plaza GG just to see if Super 24 was still in business and I couldn’t hide my smile when I saw it was…still chuggin’ along, thank God…bought a bottle of Tinto del Verano (red wine and club soda) for tradition’s sake.
Still pouring rain, I went for a run through Parque de los Jesuitas. Since the doctor says I'm not actually supposed to be running due to my Scoliosis, I couldn't help but feel like a rebel. A return to my Spanish diet, however, makes running every once in a while well worth the risk to me.
That night, as Ascencion and co. were at a wedding (at which, I would later find out Luis was a dancing machine), I met up with a girl from the JMU summer program who is living with Escoli (Ascencion’s niece) down the road. We met the rest of the JMU group in the Plaza at 11, just as I used to do with my own group J although kind of embarrassingly early for Spain. On account of the holiday weekend, there was a concert in the Plaza of a UK band called the Go! Team, which was pretty cool to see.
At 12:30, I met up with Cesar “debajo del reloj” (under the clock) just like old times and headed to Erasmus. The World cup was on TV and everyone in the bar was dressed up and extremely spirited.
Although I was initially pretty worried about the speaking and listening situation with Cesar (he was always impossible to understand …even sometimes for Spaniards) I was able to get the vast majority and carry on a decent convo. We talked and talked in the booth for almost 3 hours until Natalio joined us! They each bought me a drink and made fun of my “Mexican” accent and I made fun of how they pronounced “google” as “googlay"...but of course I was outnumbered. Around 3am, we headed to a new bar (for me) called Calle Mayor and then another named Bisu (?) or something like that, which proved a very posh discoteca. "Old man" Cesar ditched us around 5am and Natalio and I wrapped up the night at Khandavia for old times sake. Only as we were (well, as I was workin’ it on the dance floor, did I find out that Nat actually doesn’t like dancing or the club scene at all…he only suggested going there because he knew that I do. He gave me his jacket, told me I had beautiful eyes, dropped me off right at my door, promised me that he’ll drive to Madrid to see me before I leave and that I always have a home/place to stay in Salamanca. Oh Spanish men, you kill me.
...Well, SOME Spanish men that is. Nat left my side for one second and the next a 32-year-old drunken fool was explaining to me how taken he is with exotic women (aka me, ms. foreigner of the moment) and how he just happens to work 20 min from where I now live in Madrid…convenient.
Home after 6:30am woo baby!
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