Time again

I really should start writing again. I have a lot to share. I'll start I promise. Just bare with me.


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Córdoba

Paco made us memorize a poem. We were going to have to present it to the class the next Monday. So I started memorizing. If you ever thought memorizing poetry was difficult, now try it in another language. Quite comical I might add.

I kept repeating the first lines over and over "Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla. Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla. Córdoba, Lejana y Sóla."

When I felt like I knew the whole thing, I went to the living room to ask my Madre if I could say it aloud to her. She sat and listened. Corrected me every line. She would tell me to repeat it. Again. She would. Again. Again. We did this forever. Meanwhile, Fuen sat next to us, watching TV and ignoring us to the best of her abilities.

Finally, as I thought I was sure I knew it, I asked Fuen to listen to me say it one final time. She just said no. She wanted to watch television. haha At least she was honest.

I was first to say it in class (not my choosing, thanks Paco) and thought I did a pretty good job. Although, Christy did prompt me twice.

Elevators are not for students

Christy and I had this great idea. It was so great. We got in the elevator, and went to the top floor. We were gonna race. She, being the one who didn't want to exert much energy decided to stay the route of the elevator, I, was going to run. I waited until the door finally shut all the way, and I took off running. Down one flight, down the second, holy cow...the fast I ran, the less accurate my steps had become. Down the third, down the fourth...How the HECK did she beat me!? I was haulin' butt to get down those stairs! Whatever. She won.

We got to class the next day, only to be lectured about elevators being designated solely for professors. Whoops. We just looked at each other and laughed. Maybe the class didn't know why our professor was so upset...but we could take a good guess.

Oh, I got my first letter from home! A big shout out to Aunt Linda!!! You have no idea how that made my day!!! My second came today. Thanks Momma! :)

P.s. I get really ticked off when kids show up...I don't know, let's say thirty minutes late to class. They walk in, either laughing, smiling, or loud. Right in front of the teacher, too. So disrepectful. Just sit down and stop being so rude already.

Oh, and another cool thing...the way the say stuff like wow or my goodness is actually "madre mi" which means "my mother." Weird.

One more thing, when we were in Salamanca the other week, I forgot that I took a picture of Queen Isabel for my Dad. Ever since the seventh grade, everyday I would come home - straight after Spanish class - and say "Hola Padre" to my Dad. "Hello Dad." His response was always the same "Hola Isabel." When he was studying Spanish as a boy, their Spanish books always had their practice dialogue start with phrases or greetings by stating that exact same thing. So, he calls me Isabel. :) I took this picture for him.


ISABEL Y FERNANDO

La Corona

In Spain, royalty do not actually wear the crown. It sits on a table next to them.

Edu says it's a French thing to wear it. Who knew. I thought it was a royalty thing.

Shoes, again.

One day I came home from school. I was tired. So, I went to go put my shoes up.

A week or so ago, my Madre told me to keep a pair of shoes in the little scrub room they have right next to the door. I can drop off my slippers just before I put my shoes on to walk out the door.

Well, she literally meant A SINGLE pair. I guess I didn't realize it but I had three pairs in the scrub room. The second I walked in the door, she told me to take my shoes to my bedroom, they do not belong in their like that. All messy. She was not happy with me. Oh well. I have screwed up the shoe thing enough, what's one more time?

Today, she told me my bed was ugly. Messy. Go fix it.
Oh my. Good thing she likes me. She just doesn't like my housekeeping skills.

Just in the backseat

I was sitting on my bed. Reading my book, intensely. I was trying to finish that chapter so that I could get on skype and talk to Chris. Just as I was turning the page, my Madre knocks on the door. "Entra" I call across the room. She comes in, to ask me if I want to take a walk with her. Of course I jump up and follow her out of the room. We walk out of the house and head to the street where... my Padre is waiting with the car...Did I hear her correctly? I asked again. Felisa? Are we going on a walk? She replies back with yes, in a car.

I ask where we are going, but neither one of them gives me a real answer. We pass mountains, plains, horses, houses, power lines, more fields, etc. By this time, I am starting to think maybe they are trying to sell me to the traffickers? Maybe they really are getting sick of me and are trying to dump me off somewhere outside of Segovia, so I don't know how to get back to them...maybe. Or maybe we just pulled into a "pueblo" - which means little town - to check it out. Padre parks the car.

Come to find out...they are searching to buy a lot so they can build a summer home just outside of the city. They had me along for the ride. :) We got out, walked around, surveyed the plot Padre was contemplating over in his mind. He started to talk to my Madre about the qualities of the house, where they would lay the foundation, how it would face away from the sun to block heat, how the view was consistent, and so on. I couldn't help but think, what a man! No way do I even think like he was. I noticed all the similarities he had that were like Chris, knowing exactly how things would lay out. Let's just thank the Lord for Chris, because I have NO idea about that sorta thing. and Padre sure knows his stuff.

We got back in the car, and for the next twenty minutes, we drove around different pueblos so Madre could show me where her children lived now. On our way back, I noticed how such a "diligent" no..."forceful" driver my Padre was. Holy cow. Thanking the Lord again that I was wearing my seat belt. Yep. Those breaks work just fine, thanks for checking. He was a zippin and a zoomin everywhere! And, I am pretty sure he started to take us down a one way street, the wrong way. Just until my Madre proceeded loudly to inform him of his incorrect decision. (Please Lord do not let me grow up to fuss at my husband like she does her's.)

We finally headed back home. How sweet. Just the little family. Padre. Madre. and their own little American girl in the back seat.

Just as I am thinking how awesome it is that I am here with them, being such a part of their familiy, we park the car and then start walking...but not to our home. Oh Man. They really are going to sell me aren't they? Nope. We walk into a CANDY STORE! Madre tells me to pick something out! And if that's not enough, when I bring it to the counter, she tells me to go get more! What a day!

We walk out, with me, chomping on my new candy feeling 8 years old again, and in search for...nothing less than a bar. We sit down, and order beers. The irony of my situation made me laugh. Whatever, so what if I laughed out loud, they all think Americans are coo-coo anyway. But seriously, what a great day.

*Just some things to think about: While in the car, there were more American songs being played on the radio than Spanish ones. Yep. That's right. Americans have the trump to music. Oh, and cars. Americans can claim that, too. Thanks Henry Ford.*

Las Palabras

Zamina mina éh éh (vengan, vengan, eh, eh)
Waka waka éh éh (tú lo haces, tú lo haces, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Anawam ah ah (soy yo, sí)

Zamina mina éh éh (vengan, vengan, eh, eh)
Waka waka éh éh (tú lo haces, tú lo haces, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Porque esto es África

dJango éh éh (espera, eh, eh)
dJango éh éh (espera, eh, eh)
Zamina mina zangalewa (vengan, vengan, ¿quién te ha llamado?)
Anawam ah ah (soy yo, sí)