Roman Holiday

I've got some catching up to do.
Last weekend (January 14 and 15) was pretty low key. Friday night we went out til about 4 in the morning. Four of us found this bar and befriended some nice Spanish dudes. Felipe let me in on a little secret about looking American. He said, "I could tell you were American because you are wearing flip flops." Note to self: when trying to look European...no naked feet.


Lights on the bar ceiling




Saturday-
I just went walking in the riverbed right next to where we live. Saw my first rugby game. Realized it was not a regular soccer game when 5 guys lifted this one guy into the air to try and block the ball. Then when they all get in the little huddle and grunt around til the ball hatches out of somewhere--it was pretty entertaining to watch.
A few of us also made a trip to the beach to just walk around and find some food.

First Tram Ride ....headed to the beach


That's the Mediterranean!


But we Americans just refuse to learn our lessons about siesta time. The restaurants were too expensive next to the water and the other restaurants off the water were still closed for siesta (~2:00 - 5:00 p.m.). So we rode the tram all the way back into our area just to eat at a restaurant 5 steps from our building. It is perfect though...cheap, close, and delicious. I´ll probably eat there at least twice a week. Plus it accepts these checks that we get as a part of our meal plan. Plus PLUS, it serves mini sandwiches that have cheese IN the bread.



Sweet view of the Torres de Serrano...the yellow building to the right is where I live.


Sunday

After trying to book hostels for our trip to Paris, I went walking in the river bed again. (ok I promise I´ll get pictures up of this river bed park-thing later) Here is where the weekend got ... interesting. I was leaning against a wall, watching some of the futbol games below when this guy walks up to me. We start talking. I hopelessly try Spanish at first, but his English was way better than my Spanish. We have the normal conversation I have with people I first meet here (where you´re from, why you´re here, etc... I´m getting real good at saying all that in Spanish by the way). He´s Italian but has been living in Valencia for about 4 years. He does not appear to be much of a creep and after about an hour, he invites me to this tapas and drinking event with a bunch of people from couch surfing. What is couch surfing might you ask? Well if you haven´t heard of this new thing, the gist of it goes like this: Instead of getting a hotel room or hostel, you can go on couchsurfing.com, look up a particular city, and find hosts. These hosts are just regular people who offer you their couch for the night(s) for real cheap. My first thoughts (while Italian was explaining it and last year when my friend Katie Walsh actually DID IT in Spain) were ¨That is ssssketchy!¨ I had to explain to him what sketchy meant. I also told him that it is a little sketchy for me to agree to this dinner. He said why. I asked if he had seen Taken. He had not. I explained the movie. He said Americans are too paranoid. I told him that´s exactly what a European killer would say.

But guess what, I agreed to go to the dinner anyways. We walk back towards my building and then he proposes that it would be quicker to take his vespa than to ride on the metro. I give him a look that says, ¨That is even sketchier,¨ then against all better judgement, I agree to the vespa.

Back in the dorm, I tell my mother my plans. She responds appropriately with concerna and words of caution. I get off skype with her, freak out a little to my roommates, then still decide to go on the vespa with the Italian. Lilly, a roommate, tells me I can take her phone with me in case of an emergency. And to top it all off, I decide to pack a fork in my purse as a weapon. I am not joking. It was in my purse all night. I also made my roommates wait with me outside and see his face in case they had to pick him out of a line up later. Why go, might you ask? If you were so scared Emily, scared enough to pack a defense weapon, why did you go? The answer is... BECAUSE!

So he picks me up on the vespa...and he had a helmet for me. We make it to a restaurant in a not sketchy part of town. "YAY I´m not dead... (yet)," I think, "but NOW what am I doing! I'm at this restaurtant where I know no one...this is going to be awful and so awkward!".... Wrong again!

I had so much fun meeting all these people. Some knew each other from couch surfing. Some were just there. Many were Italian, but I also met a guy from Germany, a guy from Holland, a guy from Belgium, and some others in there too...all equipped with their own interesting story about how they came to be in Valencia. I got to speak plenty of Spanish (and unfortunately some English). We had drinks then everyone sat down, and the waiters brought us a series of tapas (salad, bread and spreads, and some other stuff).

Strange saucer for my white wine. I think they told me it's a way of serving wine in Galicia.
I felt like a cat.

When it got to be about 11:30, I told Fabrizio (now I can use his name because at this point I accepted the fact that he wasn´t creepy Italian guy anymore)...I told him that if it got to be too late, my friends were prepared to call the police. So we paid and left via vespa. Let me just say, vespas are fun fun fun. Fabrizio explained to me that "vespa" is really a company name, and the actual vehicle is called.. ummm... something else. But everyone says vespa...even if it's not an ACTUAL vespa. I told him that is just like lazy boy and recliners. He looked at me like I was from another planet when I tried to describe what a recliner was.

So the rest of the week pretty much pales in comparison to a vespa ride. Am getting more comfortable at work and starting to get to know the students. I will gradually begin to teach more and more.

Tuesday-
I started getting sick...just like a cold and stuff. I crammed about 15 mandarins a day down my throat and actually felt better by Thursday night. Just in time for my weekend in.... PARIS!!