Friday- Two American girls and a Spaniard walk into a bar. The lighting is dim, the ground is spattered with peanut shells, and the air is thick with cigarette smoke. I sit down on an unusually low stool, unsure of the meaning of the Spanish words whipping past my ears. Suddenly a pint of frothy beer, four small cups, and grande mystery concoction are placed in front of me. The Spaniard starts firing rapid Spanish at my American friend and me. Before I know it I'm bouncing a penny on a filthy table, throwing a sip of the mystery concoction down my throat, and yelling a foreign phrase. Somehow I'd found myself in the middle of a Spanish drinking game.
Ok, ok, by now you're probably thinking who's stolen Kate's computer and written false tales about her? But it's all true, and it's really not as bad and sketchy as it sounds. The Spaniard was my friend's host brother, the son of her host mom, who came home from college for the long weekend. He took us on an insider tour of the city which ended in a bar. It was very neat to learn about the city from him and to hear his views on U.S. politics (he was the first person to tell me Obama got a Nobel Prize). Once we ended up in a bar I informed him that I don't drink, a concept which he couldn't grasp. When he presented us with the drinking game he tamed it down so us nondrinkers could play. The mystery concoction was part beer, part banana drink. I rocked the game so that I wouldn't have to drink much. I had a total of probably three sips of the mixture. No worries everyone, it was a purely cultural experience which did not hinder my sobriety. And that was just Friday night.
Saturday- A hot bus ride. Giant elaborately painted blocks. The smell of the ocean. Breathtaking views. Two pizzas. And a lot of laughter. That was my Saturday in a nutshell. Four other girls and myself planned a day trip to the beautiful coastal town of Llanes. Unfortunately we didn't plan well enough and ended up missing our first bus. With this minor set back, we had about three hours to wander the city. We found a jetty type deal with large cement blocks, all adorned with obscure artwork. It was a memorial for the Cubans...we think. After our idle wandering, we were starved and used jumbled Spanish to get directions to a local Pizzeria. We split two pizzas to satisfy our hunger pangs. It was a beautiful and yummy day.
Sunday- are you ready for some fuuuutttbooolllll!!! On Sunday seven of us headed to Gijon for a day dedicated to soccer. The environment was thick with tension as Asturias' two biggest rivals prepared to face off: Gijon vs. Oviedo. This was a rivalry fought mainly by the fans. As we slowly approached the stadium we saw a sea of red and white, the Gijon team colors. An occasional blue (Oviedo's main color) was spotted, but rare. The fans have a dying devotion to their hometowns and a deep hatred for anyone supports the opposing side.
A first hand example of the hatred: before the game the seven of us sat at a nearby cafe enjoying the surrounding park. We sipped on our coffees when all of a sudden- BANG! A shot was fired. Mayhem broke lose. Hundreds of birds flew in chaotic circles above us. A herd of men ran through the outdoor cafe in a blur of white and red. I was sure I was going to die. One girl from our group was sure she was witnessing the running of the bulls. After moments of sheer confusion and heart-stopping panic, we deduced that the gun shot came from the riot control officers and was merely a warning shot. Needless to say I peed my pants a little.
Once the pre-game rush was over and we made it into the stadium the fans didn't lose any steam. The small, but passionate, Oviedo cheering section was guarded by police officers on all sides. The cheers and jeers of the game consisted mostly of profanities and flying middle fingers. Sadly Oviedo lost in the end 1-0, but it was a good match up. Us seven foreigners kept our mouths shut throughout the extravaganza as to not offend either side, and to keep all of our appendages intact. What a sporting event!
Monday- Monday was supposed to be my day to catch up on sleep and do homework. For the most part it was a fairly uneventful day...until I was slightly horrified by the acts of an all too friendly stranger. Midday a few of us went out for coffee and a good chat. As we were sitting there shooting the breeze a middle aged man came up and started asking us if we're students from the United States. He was talking about wanting to have an English speaking student as a conversation partner in order to improve his English. Then out of no where he takes a sudden interest in me. He asked my name and if it was short for Catalina and where I was from. Then he grabbed the back of my neck all too firmly, told me I had a beautiful smile, and said "un beso" and kissed my cheek four times with enough force to turn me bright red and sufficiently creep me out. Then he walked away and left all of us baffled. That sure is one way to end the weekend.
Congratulations to Spain for giving me one of the most eventful, beautiful, and creepy weekends of my life. And congratulations to any of you readers who made it to the end of this intensely long post.
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