Misadventures in Spanish Apartments, Part the Second

OK so I've been postponing and postponing writing on my blog (for months - crazy!) because I promised a conclusion to the story about my roommates taking a turn for the super-aggressive and demanding money. I honestly just didn't want to dwell on it or mess with how stressed-out I felt when I left Bilbao!

But... I promised.

So here's the long and short of it: I went to my pastor's house and he had a friend come over who actually worked in Spanish housing law.

The friend explained to me that not only did the roommates have no legal ground for demanding I pay them for every month they couldn't find someone to replace me (looking at it now, it's a bit of a "duh" - what would stop them from refusing all potential roommates, then charging me for the empty storage space they could use?); I won't go into all the details here but what they were trying was actually illegal. He offered to go to a lawyer's office and have the lawyer call the ringleader and tell her to stop threatening me!

We decided it was best for me not to mess with lawyers, just go home, don't talk to my roommates at all (which, by the way, is a surefire way to make apartment living super comfortable and not at all awkward). We decided I'd move out early and stay on a friend's couch so I wouldn't be in Awkwardlandia for my last couple of days in Bilbao.

Then, Monday night, I returned home to a screaming confrontation. "BUT, IMAGINATE, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LEAVE AND WE HAVEN'T FOUND SOMEONE TO TAKE YOUR PLACE?" I shut myself in my room. Overwhelmed, I called Pastor Tony in tears. What do I do?

Ten minutes later, Tony called me back. He had called Bryan, my friend with the couch, and asked him, Can Kata come tonight?

How fast can you be ready, he asked me. I told him two hours and spent the next hour and a half throwing all of my belongings into suitcases. Tony, his son Aitor, and Bryan arrived just as I finished packing. We carried my stuff downstairs (without confrontations - my roommates were all in their rooms by then).

I left my keys on the coffee table.

Coming next (I won't wait 3 months this time, promise): the "Hindsight is 20/20" guide to renting abroad.

what will you miss?

with my friends Thomas and Bryan at the Hanging Bridge in Portugalete
(photo credit: Bryan Alfano)



with my friend Esmeralda in Vitoria-Gasteiz


My friends here in Bilbao and I have been playing this game lately: answering the questions "what will you miss? What won't you miss?" about life here. Most of them are staying here for another year, while I'm flying home this Saturday. It's getting truly strange and bittersweet - of course there are things I can't leave behind fast enough, but I'm also realizing that I'm leaving a pretty significant part of my heart behind here.

So I thought I'd share some of the biggest things I will and won't miss about life here. First up:

Things I Will Not Miss At All About Life In Bilbao

Not belonging. It's thrilling at first, but after nine months standing out it becomes exhausting.

Little things - people walking 4 deep on a sidewalk and not moving, forcing you onto the street; staring being totally A-OK; strangers yelling at me "HELLO!" on the sidewalk because I look foreign (as a side note, if American kids did this to a lady from, say, Mexico, how yelled at would they get by their parents?! So yelled at).

Living in a monoculture. Being as isolated (at least in many ways) from other peoples as Basque country has been for this long makes xenophobia almost a given. Specifying in an ad what ethnicities are and aren't welcome to come check out your room for rent is considered totally acceptable. "Oh, hey, Civil Rights Movement, we didn't see you there. We were too busy recovering from a dictatorship by making films about the crazy stuff we weren't allowed to make films about before."

Not smiling. I've compared notes with other Americans (North and Latin), and the verdict is that people here don't smile nearly as much as we do. Even children - it's pretty standard to see kids playing in a park together with serious little faces, no smiles.

Teaching. If there's anything I don't enjoy, it's teaching people who don't want to learn. It's like, if you don't want to learn English, then don't. If you want to limit your horizons to working in a hardware shop in Alava or something, who am I to stop you?


Things I Will Miss Like Crazy About Life In Bilbao

Living in a monoculture. The flipside of this is that the culture is more condensed, so you get to experience it closer to what it was like hundreds of years ago. There's not so much figuring out what Basque culture is exactly, and the little things that are special about this place stand out more. It's pretty straightforward, you experience it, and you love it.

That incredible travel high that comes from being accepted in a different culture. To everyone who made me feel welcome, accepted, like I could belong even if just for a minute, thank you. You can't know how much it means to me. Unless you've lived abroad. Then you know.

Specialized food shops. I had a good thing going with my butcher, who knew my favorite cuts for stews, and had found my favorite shop for cheap, amazing fruits and veggies. Goodbye, Fresh Local Produce; hello, Trader Joe's.

Random delightful moments. We had our kitchen window open this evening and while I was cooking, voices singing "Happy Birthday" in Basque from another apartment came breezing in. Moments like that.

Specific people - my housemate from last semester, my church family, and a handful of other incredible people. A lot of people have stepped up and been amazing friends to me here when it came down to it (more on that to come).


Fellow expats: what about y'all? What would you most miss - and be the most glad to leave behind?

one of those reminiscing posts

"pour cider perfectly" could have been a goal. check.


Way back in July, I made a list of things I wanted to make sure I accomplished during my stay here. With less than a month to go (exactly 3 weeks now!) left in Bilbao, I thought it was time to revisit those plans and see how I did.

So, presenting the Basque Country Goals Progress Report:

1. Calçotada. Yes, yes, and yes. It was everything I dreamed it would be.

2a. Yep. Visited Sevilla; saw stepsister.

2b. Obviously. These things are so good they shouldn't even be classified in the same species as regular olives. They should be called "angel droppings" or something.

2c. Nope. Donald proved impossible to find.

3. Partial success - I did the harder part, interestingly, and can now sing you the entire Athletic song in Basque, although I didn't make it to the stadium. Whatever, time over here has made me realize, once Betica, always Betica. Embarrassing but true. Choose your first soccer team wisely, kids, it's your team forever.

4. Not necessary, Cristiano Ronaldo creates these every day without any help from my creativity.

5. Not really. I have no idea what the heck my accent is at this point; it's certainly not an actual Bilbao one, although my andalu comes back after I try for a while. Anyway, ambitious much? What did I even think I was going to do here in Bilbao, learn to talk like someone from the Canary Islands?

6. Oh yes. My winter runs were always along the river, by the Gugg. The incredible good fortune of living five minutes from the actual Guggenheim museum isn't something I'll forget anytime soon.

7a. Whopping fail.

7b. Whopping success.

8. No. But I did begin mashing them often, which was new, and also went through a pretty big "homemade fries" phase last semester. Also made patatas a la Riojana, which I hated (for chorizo reasons).

9. Not happening. Your loss, Pamplona.

if obelix had proposed right then, i would have said yes

Asterix and Obelix: favorite costume by far


Those of you in the non-Catholic world may not have noticed, but this past week was Carnival. A celebration in wackiness, costumes and all things enjoyable before Lent starts, Carnival (or Carnaval in espaneesh) is like an extended Mardi Gras. Except instead of one day, it's a week long; instead of ladies lifting up their shirts for beads, costumed children spray each other with silly string (as far as I can tell no one lifts up their shirt for anything here); and instead of raucous drunkenness it's... well, OK, there's still a lot of raucous drunkenness.



They set up a fairground with rides in the old part of the city here in Bilbao, where every adorable child in the city dressed as a pirate, dinosaur, flamenco dancer or clown dragged their parents Saturday afternoon.


daaaaaaaaaaaaw look at the little lion!


Luckily for me I was off to Italy, land of the truly wacky-doodle Carnaval (or Carnavale, as they say - say it with me, in an obnoxious Italian accent: Car-na-VAH-lay!), the next day. My friend Bryan and I gathered up extra confetti from the stands in Viareggio, then had an all-out confetti war. I was still picking confetti out of my shoes/hair/clothing days later.

Then off to Milan I went, where I went straight to the cathedral, the Duomo, and encountered the Most Confetti Ever.



As a side note: men in Venetian masks are not to be trusted. They will Silly String you like it ain't no thing.

silver lining

It's been raining the past few days. When I say "raining," I don't mean the big, fat drops we get in North Carolina (or "Northern Carolina," as the Ryanair website so charmingly calls it) that make the pavement steam and the air smell like wet grass. I mean sirimiri, that typically Basque weather that is a soft blanket of mist. It's not even drizzle, it's really more of a gentle mist or spray. The Basque sketch comedy show Vaya Semanita rips on it all the time, because this really is a rainy place.

The thing about all the rain here in Basque country is that it makes you appreciate the clear days so much more. The sunshine really does feel more special after a few days of grey, intermittent mist showers.

Especially days that end in evenings like this:



I really do love this city.

adventures in medicine

x-ray of my happily pneumonia-free chest


I'd had a sore throat the past couple days. Overnight, it went from "just sore throat" to sore throat, earache, fever, terrifying cough - the whole nine yards. So I called my insurance company, they sent me to the doctor's office, and let me tell you, it was ON.

First the nurse took my blood pressure, temperature, and all the standard stuff. Then it was back to the waiting room, then on to the X-rays (see above).

By the way, visiting the doctor's office really highlights the gaps in your foreign language proficiency. I made everyone repeat instructions twice ("I'm pretty sure she just said to take off my shirt and lie down over there, but what if that wasn't what she said at all and now the funny American is stripping and lying down?").

After a game of musical doctor's rooms (I believe I went to four, including a brief but exciting visit to one wrong one - who would have thought there'd have been another Katherine in the clinic?), I was informed that my throat and right ear were indeed infected, but on the bright side I didn't have pneumonia like apparently a lot of other people had. Prescription in hand, I marched to the pharmacy, then straight back home.

How much did all this cost, you ask?

...21 euros. And that was for the prescription, which apparently my insurance will also reimburse me for. Basque Government, I'm sorry I ever doubted your ability to hook me up.

mood lighting

For the past 4 days, the most wonderful, almost unthinkable thing has happened.

We've had sunshine and 60-degree weather (yes, I still think in Farenheit) in Bilbao. It's supposed to be sunny and 64 again today.

I don't think we even realize how much the weather affects how we feel, but this week has brought home to me that the answer is "a lot." Bilbao does not typically manage so well on the sunny winter days front. A typical day is cloudy with a little rain on and off. This is fantastic weather for reminiscing or curling up with a book, and when I visited last year in January there was something almost a little rebellious, brooding and thrilling about all the rain. Every day, however, does not need to be rebellious and brooding. When every day is rebellious and brooding, I frankly get sick of it and it goes from thrilling to depressing.

But the sun has been out all week, and it has been glorious. Yesterday I took a day trip with some friends to Bermeo and Mundaka, both Vizcayan coastal towns, to explore and take advantage of the perfect weather. I'm planning to spend the entire warm part of today outside, too.

So goodbye for now, I'm off to take advantage of that sweet, sweet vitamin D pouring from the sky.

medieval fair, bilbao

The smell told us where to go. That perfect smell of meat roasting outdoors, the smoke blowing over in the cool winter air.


Oh yes. We had found Bilbao's medieval festival in a long row of tents strung out along the riverbank.

And there was bread, fresh baked by these guys, who kneaded & churned out about 10 loaves a minute.


Lovely afternoon.

olentzero is coming to town...

It started last Thursday night. I was walking home from the bus after work and suddenly something sounded very familiar. Very familiar and very Christmassy. Joy to the World was blasting from the department store El Corte Inglés. The front of the building was now covered in light-up snowflakes, which were turning on and off in a rhythmic dance to the song.



Soon after, thousands of twinkling blue lights went up around Gran Via, turning the main shopping street into an enchanted forest.

And, of course, Olentzero - the Basque version of Santa Claus, who comes down from the mountain to give good children presents and bad children coal on Christmas Eve - has been popping up in window displays everywhere.


Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Zorionak.

And I fly home in 5 days!

second time's the charm

Kwali the koala visits the Guggenheim

I'd been meaning to do it for a while now. Go back to the Guggenheim museum, I mean. One of my roommates had given me a bunch of free-entry passes she had lying around, so I had no reason not to. Except that the only time I'd been before, the featured exhibition was all about Frank Lloyd Wright, which is great unless you're like me and can't stand Frank Lloyd Wright. Then it's 2 hours of "I wish I'd just stood outside and looked at the museum from out there."

No matter, I decided, as an adopted Bilbaina I had to give it another chance. Anyway, the current exhibitions were photography and Dutch art. I loved it. A couple things struck me as I wandered around the museum. One is relevant to life and the other is ridiculous. Ridiculous first:

1) One of the Dutch paintings (still-lifes with flowers and fruits and dead game and stuff) had hacked salmon. You know when a fishmonger takes a whole tuna or salmon and they chop it down the middle so you can see a cross-section of it the fish's meat/spine? Can't stand it. Like, I go into markets and have to look at the ground in the fish sections because the possibility of seeing hacked tuna/salmon is too terrifying. I didn't say it made sense, I just said I was scared of it. Anyway, it's also scary in a painting.

2) What if I treated Raleigh like I treat Bilbao? Here, I'm always seeking out art exhibits, concerts, festivals, markets, restaurants I haven't tried. I start every week with the expectation that I'm going to have some kind of great cultural/food/etc. experience. Of course I do, and of course much of it is the wonderfulness of Basque Country, but a lot of it is the effort I put in, too. In Raleigh, I generally take life there for granted, get into a routine, and don't bother to seek new things out. Why bother to go to that farmer's market I heard was cool this week when I could go next week, or next year, or in 5 years? There's no urgency to soak up your home culture because your time there isn't limited by a visa. But what if I acted like it was? What if I kept up with art exhibitions, local food trends, festivals, and other events in Raleigh? What if I woke up every Monday expecting to discover some awesome new facet of my own culture that week?

I have a serious suspicion that any city can be interesting and captivating if you put in the effort to discover.

The urge to get in a zinger right now along the lines of "any city except Madrid" is pretty strong, but I think I'm going to leave Madrid alone tonight. My favorite love-to-hate-it city took enough of a beating yesterday when Barcelona FC handed Real Madrid their fancy, overpaid bottoms on a platter 5-0.

In the words of Nelson Muntz, HA HA!

so much to be thankful for.

Julieta Venegas from the front row.

This week has been crazy hectic but also unbelievably blessed. Here's the rundown:

Monday: Javi, the actual teacher of my "clase mala," stayed in class with me after having a come-to-Jesus last week with the kids about how rude they were being. They behaved awesomely.

Tuesday: interviewed for and got a job in Zornotza/Amorebieta, a town about 25 minutes away. 4 nights a week and more than doubles my income.

Wednesday: Julieta Venegas, one of my very all-time favorite singers, came to Bilbao and did a concert. My friend Jessica and I got there half an hour early; apparently half an hour is all you need to get perfect front-row spots. The above picture was taken on my LITTLE camera with no digital zoom. Besides being only 5 feet away, Julieta was of course amazing. Incredibly sweet, funny, she played at least 4 instruments, and it was her birthday!! Easily best concert of my life.

Thursday: Thanksgiving! I found sweet potatoes (a certain moroccan store gets a big "eskerrik asko" for that one). Cooked them the way my dad always did them, the way I prefer them, which I'll tell you here:

Rinse potatoes. Poke holes in potatoes with fork. Bake in 350-400F (a little under 200C) oven for 40-50 minutes.

Eat. Don't you dare leave the skins, they're caramelized and wonderful!

Yesterday I also started my new job and both of my classes (one of 10-year-old girls, one of adults) were really nice. Then last night was Thanksgiving Round One: Basque Edition. I went with my roommates to a friend's house (actually, the house of Sara, the girl who used to live in my room) for a Thanksgiving dinner party and it. was. awesome. They played (American) Christmas music, made nachos and a "baby turkey" (i.e. large chicken, which I have to say was tender and juicy beyond belief). We each gave thanks for something at the end of the meal, and it was so funny because as the only American I suddenly became the Thanksgiving expert. "Kata, are you allowed to give thanks before the dinner?" "Kata, do you ask for something too, or just give thanks?"



But of course there aren't really any Thanksgiving rules except that you must eat too much, which we dutifully did.

Now I'm gearing up for Thanksgiving Round Two: American Edition on Saturday.

today's post brought to you by blank palate.

My friend Marti (recent transplant to Donostia, cook, teacher, wife, mother and all-around badass) invited me to share something about the Bilbao food scene on her blog.

Actually, I believe her words were "if you can find something worth writing about in Bilbao."

Challenge accepted, and you can read my guest post here.

hit me, baby, one more time

That's right, two posts in one day!

This morning I woke up with the beginnings of a cold and it was raining and chilly outside, so of course I went out to the outdoor plant market by the river. My friend Marti (you'll know her from such posts as the last one), with all her legit cooking materials, inspired me to get herb plants, so early cold symptoms and all it was off to the market I trotted. I got these guys:



Their names are Antxon and Patxi, and the wire contraption you see is so they stay in place on my slanted windowsill. If you're interested in buying any of their brothers, they were €1.50 each. Score.

On my way back from the river saw a "Tastes of the World" tent and went in. "Random Whatever of the World" would have been a more accurate name, and it was awesome. I wonder if anyone has ever thought to himself, "Now let's see, I need to buy some dried beans, new age crystals, earrings, cheese, sardines, a Communist T-shirt, and maybe an empanada or two." That guy would be so happy there. Anyway, I bought some red lentils. I have no idea how to prepare them, but I love lentils and the color coral so that was really bound to happen one way or another.

puente, say whaaaat?

This week after my first day of classes on Monday we have had reception/orientation stuff put on by the Basque government. Yesterday I rode with Esteban, my co-worker/program mentor, to a reception in Vitoria-Gasteiz. This consisted mostly of sitting and listening to some welcome speeches by, as Esteban put it, "big fish" of the Basque education department. Afterwards they provided pintxos, wine, soft drinks and dessert and we all mingled for a little while.

I had a super-exciting moment at school yesterday when we were getting ready to go, though. I was getting ready to meet up with Esteban to head out and I met the vice-principal of the school, and she turns to someone else and goes (in Basque) "he's over there." And I understood it!!! Get ready, complicated agglutinating language isolate, because I am SO going to learn you.

Then today was part 1 of training in Barakaldo, a suberb/satellite city in the Bilbao metro area. Some of it was incredibly helpful (concrete ideas of activities, how to plan classes/adapt material to the classes' levels, etc) and some of it was incredibly NOT (I'm looking at you, 1-hour segment on how to record people using a microphone and your computer and then post it online). A bunch of us (auxiliares) then went to IKEA, and I think I now have everything I need to settle in to my apartment.

The most exciting thing I learned today, though, was that we have a puente this weekend! For those of you not familiar with Spanish culture, a puente is when a national holiday falls on a day one day away from a weekend (i.e., Tuesday) and they make a "bridge" out of it by taking the day off in between too. In this case, the holiday is Columbus Day, which is also the Fiesta Nacional/Día de la Hispanidad (Day of Spanishness), which as you can imagine doesn't always go over so great in Basque Country. The important thing for me is this means I have Astelehena (Monday) AND Asteartea (Tuesday) off work!! Days off DO always go over great with me. Anyway, I may go to Donosti (yes, AGAIN, I know, I know!) and stay with a new friend there for a couple days.

One thing I've noticed is we (auxiliares) hang out in HUGE groups. This isn't necessarily a problem, except that we'll go into a pintxos bar and completely take it over. This makes me feel a little obnoxious, even though we're all good patrons and buy snacks and drinks and are not too loud and everything.

On the one hand, I wonder if now is time for me to be going out and making local friends (join a sports team! take dance lessons! something!). On the other, I remember that when moving to another country there's usually an adjustment period where you're just settling in and you tend to spend a heavier chunk of time with other people in your situation (i.e., expats). Plus, I genuinely like a lot of my fellow auxiliares a lot! Not to mention that I always find study-abroad or program people who won't be friends with their fellow countrymen at all because they're "trying to go local" a little snotty; I don't think the two are mutually exclusive. I guess my plan for now is to keep hanging out with my new friends but make sure I make an effort with my church and my roommates (I think we're all going to some open-house event at Mango this Thursday).

i'm in!

it's midnight here, i'm supa tired and i'm waking up tomorrow morning to go to donosti for a day of beach sitting, sunshine and quality food. so all i will say is i am my new piso, i love it, and here is a photo of my room. will take more glamor shots of the whole apartment later.

my room:



Edit: here are some more photos of my lovely apartment. view out my window:



Living room:



Kitchen:



Bathroom I share with one other girl:

I'm Alava that!

Thursday is a big day.

What happens on Thursday: I move into my apartment. I go back to Laudio (hence the fabulous pun in the title) and meet more people at my school and get my weekly schedule, which is hopefully something like tuesday-wednesday-thursday because that would be PERFECT for travel. And I'll probably buy my ticket for the Sevilla vacation shortly after that!!

Not much else to tell, Bilbao is still delightful and we lost horribly to Barcelona, which everyone expected.

One thing I had forgotten about and have yet to readjust to in Spain is how socially acceptable public displays of affection are. People just sit down and make out in public like it ain't no thing! It's pretty awkward so far.

I'll put up pictures once I'm reunited with my camera cord and the rest of my belongings that have already moved into my piso ahead of me.


Aaand reintroducing Euskera of the day:

Iraila September. This is the only month I know so far, so I'm set until Wednesday night.

athleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetic!

First, I went and visited with my soon to be roommates the night before last, and they are wonderful. One is obsessed with the US and watches The Hills, The City and Keeping up with the Kardashians. All are super fashionable and make me feel like a lumberjack, so obviously I will need to step my game up. October 1st cannot come soon enough.

second, Casco Viejo (the old neighborhood where I'm staying in the meanwhile) is beautiful and has delicious pintxos and lots of other good things but it is flipping LOUD at night. And tonight Athletic Bilbao plays FC Barcelona so it's not really a question as to whether there will be celebratory screaming outside my window all night, just whether it will be in Spanish or Catalan. I saw some of the Catalanes earlier and one of them sounded just like the Godfather. Hot dang, now that I look around the square it is all Barça fans, maybe I will go put on my new Athletic jersey just to represent a little. Come on Bilbao, get your game on.

third, there is a shop in the Plaza Nueva here which I just noticed sells all these Basque gourmet things, plus Moravian cookies from Winston Salem, NC!

ooooh it's starting to rain, I'm out.

sometimes,

Six hours changes everything.

After my freakout this morning, I met a dude from Leeds and we explored around the city for a while, then watched clips of Mock The Week and Futurama. This was encouraging.

Then, I went to see the one piso where someone had responded to my calls/messages. And. This piso. Was. Amazing. It was right off of Plaza Moyua (read: really nice/pretty/convenient to metro neighborhood), a beautiful apartment inside, and the girls who live there were AWESOME. All really friendly, chill girls in their mid-20s, and I felt like we got along really well. Also, although a leetle bit more expensive than I had as an ideal, totally affordable. So I told them I would definitely love to live in their piso if they decided they wanted me, they said they'd get back to me in a couple days, we said our goodbyes and I left. As I walked to the bus I was just praying - hopefully not out loud on the street like a crazy person but I'm not 100% sure - God, if You have something else for me, I trust You. But I do love this one.

Well.

I get on the bus to meet Casey (who I'm staying with) and my phone rings. It was Maite, one of the girls from the piso, and she was just like "yeah we really like you and we want you to move in Oct 1!!!!"

aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i. have. a. piso.

It was the only one I went to see and it was awesome and now I am so excited because in 10 days not only am I not a nomad, I have a fixed place where I will live with awesome girls. Things are looking up so much I can't even see straight, I want to cry I'm so relieved!!!

can't think of one

wheeeeeeeeew.
So I've just sent out about a million emails to prospective roommates here in Bilbao. Hoping to hear back soon... it is really stressful not having a place to live. I'm starting to understand the people who prearranged their piso situations before getting here! BUT I've been couchsurfing (last night and tonight) and it has been delightful to hang out a little and have actual conversation!! The couple I'm staying with showed me around Bilbao some last night, then we went back to their house just outside the city (in the mountains!! it's cool!), had dinner, and they helped me start looking for apartments. All in all they have been super helpful and welcoming. Thumbs up for couchsurfing.

And, best news, I finally found a pension (like a B&B) that is nice and cheap and well-located to stay after tonight. It was getting a little tense because I kept calling places and everywhere with a reasonable price was filled up! And I have my cell phone set up now, so I can communicate when I'm out, which is always good.

But... I am still struggling really hard with homesickness. I don't know what I was thinking getting here this early, if I had waited to go when the other auxiliares got here I would have had some instant friends, but now I'm in Bilbao and I feel like I don't have any friends. I know this is the hardest part, that it only gets better, etc, etc, but somehow that doesn't help as much as it should. When I'm logical about it I remember how much I loved the last two times I lived abroad and how much I love Basque Country so it makes sense that once I settle in I'm going to love it love it here, but I'm struggling right now not to wish I could go home. I have to remind myself that it's not irreversible, that in the unlikely eventuality that I settle in here and still can't adjust, I can always go home. I mean, I probably won't, but it's good to know it's there. Also, apparently lots of people get "expat flu" where they get sick right when they first move abroad, so maybe I have that and it's not just nerves that have been messing with my stomach.

And every piece of homesickness advice suggests I list the reasons I moved here, the things I like about my new home. So here goes:

Getting better at Spanish.
Walks along the river.
Trips around Spain & around Europe.
Delicious Basque food.
The laid-back, genuine vibe here in Bilbao.
Visiting Arzak.
Tamborrada in January.
Futbol, in bars and at the stadium.
Teaching English.
Spanish fashion.

Let's end on a high note. Yesterday as I was riding in the car with Casey and Asier, they put on a Basque language lesson CD and we were all repeating after the CD and it was great fun and then came probably the most useless thing ever:

"Sevilakoa naiz, baina Madriden bizi naiz." That means: "I am from Sevilla, but I live in Madrid."

ahahahaha how many people in that situation could possibly be learning Basque?? haha, awesome.

Bilbao, Bilbao, Bilbao, cada dia te veo mas guapo

So as you've probably guessed, I'm here! I took the fancy bus, and let me tell you, it was fancy and worth every one of the extra 20 euros. And it had WiFi! So here I am on the fancy bus right before falling asleep during their onboard (onbus?) movie of "Twilight":



My arrival went pretty smoothly, as we were pulling in to the Termibus station I started to have the, "oh man, what am I doing?" feeling again, but I got in a taxi and started talking to the driver, and he was awesome. I told him about what I was doing over here and he was like "9 months, wow, by the end of that I bet you'll be an Athletic fan" and so then we talked about futbol for the rest of the drive. For the record, yes, I AM already "del Athletic", and yes, I do still have a tender spot for the train wreck that is Real Betis too.

Anyway, yesterday evening I took it easy, hung out, wandered around the city a little. My hotel is right on the river and you can find everything from the river so it was nice to be able to get around without a map! I'm couchsurfing with a couple tonight and probably tomorrow, which is going to be soooo nice compared to being alone (although my hotel is pretty sweet!).

Finally: I (re) learned yesterday that my favorite animal is "txakur" in Basque. And everyone was walking them last night!! It was so cute, I was eating a doner kebab on a park bench and this little doggy came up and started munching what I dropped and his child owner runs up and is like "come on, Balto!" cuuuuute.

Also (I guess the dog thing wasn't that final after all), the man at the desk informed me that the internet here goes in & out because sometimes anti-terrorism trucks come by and ruin the signal. whaaaaaaaaaat.