Estoy aqui.

Well, I made it so to speak. Just when you think things cannot get worse--upon arrival in Madrid, my bags stayed in Atlanta, Georgia. So unbelievably frustrating. Imagine being in a foreign country with only the clothes on your back (including a small northface fleece, jeans, and a pair of converse in my bag) I wanted to just surrender to the travel gods and go home.

I’m not sure what exactly is keeping me in Spain at this moment, because the past 3 days have been completely traumatizing and filled with a ridiculous amount of bad luck. When I got to my flat with Will (My british room mate) we discovered my bedroom had a mirrored picture of Jesus that says “Se Busca”--is God trying to give me a sign? I told Will I need to go to church and pray. Atleast after everything we could find some humor in my situation. You live, you laugh, you learn. Today I wouldn’t let myself cave in and give up. I told myself I could get by without my bags for a couple of days (Although, since they are stuck somewhere unknown in the airport in Georgia, my nerves are grading on the possibility of a week + without my bags). It kills me, I packed so painstakingly well--distributing winter/summer clothes into each bag evenly, pajamas in both, etc. Fucking smited.

Pilar and her partner Juan Manuel met me at the train station in Cordoba at 4pm. They took me around the city in their car and we attempted to find a store open so I could purchase some necessities, but continuing in the spirit of inconvenience all the stores are closed for Holiday (Dia de los reyes--children open their presents this morning, it is the last day of Christmas).

Pilar then let me take a shower at her apartment, that is when it hit me I was in a completely different culture. Pilar does not use conditioner, and the shampoo is for your hair and body. I was able to blow dry my hair..but not particularly stylishly or well..I feel very unkempt and out of sorts. After having cake and coffee, we went to pick up Will from the train station at 7 pm. The drive to Posadas was 30 minutes..and we were both exhausted from our trips. Thinking in another language gets complicated when you can barely think in english. Juan Manuel really wants me to roll my R’s like there is no tomorrow.

The flat is pretty interesting, it is on the second floor of a small apartment building. It smells like cigarettes in the hallway, but not the stodgy american kind...a different smell of cigarette..can’t really explain it. The decoration is something you would find on the Golden Girls..but slightly more outdated. I had Zach Morris/Golden Girls curtain up in my room..I took them down with Will’s help 30 minutes later and moved the desk from the family room into my room with a different chair. Jesus is still staring at me from the wall, but tomorrow I think I will switch him out with the hallway mirror.

Will was nice enough to lend me his space heater tonight, and 3 hours later I finally adjusted it to a hospitable temperature (it was REALLY hot until now) when I go in the hallway my muscles shake from the cold. I was so painfully tired when I laid down, but the unfamiliarity is keeping me from a deep sleep, I keep intermittently waking up. I have replayed “Under the Tuscan Sun” atleast 4 times, the background noise comforts me I guess. It could also be attributed to my new twin-size bed...or that I have hunger pains but nothing to eat. Whenever you flush the toilet it sounds like a fog-horn is about to burst through the wall. There are two bathrooms next door to eachother, but the first one has an unidentifiable smell and Will decided to use the other one. My bath towels are in my suitcases. I don’t even have a fucking towel to shower with. It’s only 7:22pm in Arizona, but I can’t call any of my friends because my calling card is running low. It’d be nice if they would buy calling cards to call my cell phone, since Will and I are sharing internet via a USB you stick in your computer. I wasn’t up to look at the world wide web tonight, probably tomorrow.

Interestingly, Will brought a large stack of books here as well. I guess we both find comfort in the escapism of the books (it doesn’t matter where you are when you are reading, you lose yourself in the story/life of someone else). I suggested tomorrow we bring a couple of books and sit and read in the promenade of Cordoba (after buying a few things), The train to Cordoba is only 15 minutes, the station is across the street and the school is a 7 minutes walk away. I start on Thursday morning, but don’t officially begin teaching until Tuesday. I’m worried about money, especially with the unforeseen expenses of buying clothes and products. I planned on joining the gym tomorrow, but I realized I have nothing to exercise in so it’s pretty damn pointless. Damnit, damnit, damnit. Will is hoping..going..to run the London marathon in April. I think I will train with him for kicks, but I think I missed the official deadline to sign up. Maybe after I have my running shoes I’ll feel comfortable enough to ask.

I know I need to cry, but I won’t let myself. Instead, I’m laying awake in the darkness...trying to fathom that I’m in a foreign country alone. My mom reiterated that it’ll all work out and they’ll get my bags to me within the next couple of days. I just can’t help but question why I left my wonderful life, family, and friends to be alone in Spain. I feel so lonely I’m numb. Troy is coming from January 17-26th, coincidentally Will is leaving the 17th-24th to go to Obama’s inauguration---random right?