It’s Spring. The bustle of Posadas is in full swing. Flowers are blooming, people are lounging in the park in front of the prodigious old church, and on my run I saw two baby lambs. Nothing like baby animals to tell you Spring is here.
It’s sort of funny, I had never really thought about Spring as a time of renewal..but it really is. While running today, I was soothed by the sound of my own breathing, the burn of my lungs, and the strain of my legs as I trudged up the steep incline of the sierrezuela--it was all worth the trip as I leaned against one of the looming trees and stared out over the vista; the seemingly tiny speck that is Posadas surrounded by the vast farm fields. Que bueno. Later, as I ran through the perimeter of town and over the bridge, while the wind cooled by skin, I decided that a nice Spring breeze is a runner’s bestfriend..that and peanut butter.
My day took a familiar turn as I stepped into the shower, excited to turn the little bathroom into a momentary sauna--when sure enough, the warm water turned into ice mid-lather. Of course. Then, as I stood shivering in my towel, trying to find something comfortable to wear to go buy some vegetables--I realized, majority of my comfy bottoms were sitting, sopping wet, in the washer. That’s what I get for putting off doing laundry. I just really hate hanging up all my clothes and waiting for them to dry, a dryer is really...a magnificent invention I’ve come to realize. Also, since it was raining all week..air drying my laundry was impossible. I eventually gave into jeans and my go to, worn in, red Arizona baseball cap. A little piece of home that I usually avoid wearing here, but I was really hungry and too lazy to blowdry my hair. Rubia went incognito.
My laziness carried over into my grocery shopping, I did a one stop hit at Fini’s (the tiny vegetable store, almost hidden on the main street) and picked up the ingredients to make a Spanish stew I’ve come to love...and depend on. Fini asked me what my plans for Holy Week were and I told her I was going to Madrid to pick up my mother. She, as a mother, knew how great it would be to have a visit. She asked me if my Dad was coming too, and I passed the test, I managed to tell her a simple “no” with a smile on my face, undaunted. She asked me if they were separated and I told her they had been since I was very little.
Fini has become one of my favorite people in the town. I run down to her store when I have a question about cooking, ingredients, or even directions. I usually frequent her shop a couple times per day, for example tonight when my stew was..stewing?, I bounded down the stairs of my apartment, around the corner, and into her shop to purchase a Pepsi Light. I wanted a soda, I haven’t had a soda since January and it seemed like a good pairing to my dinner. Jamie, I really liked it. Believe it or not, I couldn’t remember the last time I drank Pepsi.
For dessert I had 2 oranges, from one of the local farmers. Will tutors a boy named Rafa and his father always brings us big bags of mandarine oranges and lemons. They taste, amazing. My room smells like oranges now..I guess it’s a perfect smell to coincide with Spring.
P.S: I forgot to tell you. Last night, I ate Snails. Mull over that for a minute. All the teachers went to dinner in Cordoba to have tapas and eat Snails. In every storefront window, there is a sign that says “Hay Caracoles!” It’s a big thing here, like cheeseburgers in the United States. That’s another way I know it’s Spring. Anyway, I was peer pressured into it and I thought, what the hell, low and behold I swallowed the little alien with horns and managed not to gag. I politely refused anymore. People eat them like they are peanuts here, only peanuts don’t smell like that. Insert ick face here. To rinse out my mouth I drank 2 cruzcampo beers. They were small bottles so I managed to hold it together through tapas. Needless to say, as you can imagine, tapas consisted of a lot of red meat and jamon. Dios Mio. I politely tried everything, since the teachers are determined to make me love the food. It’s just so different seasoning wise and what not. I, of course, love Salmorejo (which is easy to make, it’s basically just tomatoes) and is served cold, because it doesn’t contain papas fritas (french fries) sirloin, or jamon. So, ultimately, the food hasn’t been a big hit with me, but the friendliness of the people and the relaxed culture have been. The glass is half full..of snails.
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