|My bike takes me to the edge of the world and on the other side is another world, worth discovering.|
I've changed my scale of awesome, the highest level possible: Spain. And this weekend has been very Spain. (Yes I did just repeat Spain in every sentence, the name alone brings me joy)
Soccer is Life! No Really.
The best part about being on a team, a whole new group of friends. These girls are beyond nice, they help me with the Spanish soccer terms and laugh at all my attempts to be funny. (Score!) On Friday's we practice from 8:30-10:30 pm I have to take a bus home so I usually don't arrive until 11 for dinner(Eating crazy late, but when in Spain do like the Spaniards and eat the baby octopi!) The girls had taken English and were trying to have conversations with me. It was nice not to be the only one stumbling over words. At the end of the night I received a round of hugs and see you later's! I was a part of yet another family that just keeps growing.
|No this isn't my team, we have cooler uniforms (;|
|Now let's take a bus ride to Zuasti, the home of my other brother, Alberto.|
|If you it doesn't burn a little, you're|
not doing it right.
After a few hours in wooden chairs I'll be honest my butt was numb. What better way to cure a numb butt? Why hop on a bull! We are in Pamplona for goodness sakes! Riding a mechanical bull was on my BucketList so trying not to look like a 5 year old, I rushed to the inflatable circle that surrounded the coolest of little kiddie carnival rides. Feeling alive the next escapade was soon too come, my love, soccer.
I emerged in my brother Alberto's man-sized soccer clothes and tennis shoes fit for a 10 year old boy. I was the only girl so a lot of people were watching la Americana play. Boys will be boys, tricks to impress the ladies, but at this point I was no longer a "lady". The boys said I was good and told me I could play with them anytime, I felt like one of the guys! (maybe it's because I was dressed like one) When I said I had to go change and make myself look like a girl for the parties tonight I got back "Eres muy guapa" > You are very beautiful. I was blushing (or maybe I was red from all the chasing) Either way compliment well taken. I went back to the house to get ready for my first real Spanish fiesta!
|Peaceful before the bull got his buck.|
Midnight in San Fermines (Chiquito)There is time, on a clock, and then there is Spain-Time, whenever you feel like it. We began a long evening of mischief around 10pm in la bajera (last blog post give it a look) Here's the thing, I don't know the right Spanish music. Before arriving I compiled playlists with all kinds of salsa and Latin pop only to find I had all the wrong songs. So I simply smiled and pretended (like all good exchange students do) as the room filled with the sing/shouting of 30 or so wild teenagers.
Amidst a conversation with the 3rd Alejandro I'd met this week (how will I remember all these names) an American song began to play. All my new friends wanted to know what "American dancing" is (please anything other than Twerking!) Never do I question whether or not to dance, the answer is always YES. Up off the couch and out onto the dance floor flew the Latin-Irish-American girl shaking her culo like there was no tomorrow. Worked out for me, I was supposedly "a good dancer" (extra points)!
We were approaching 1 in the morning and guess what, this was just the beginning. Dancing, singing, cheering I never felt happier to reintroduce myself a million and one different times to the million and one new faces. We marched through the streets of the old city a pack of friends, or a group of family, to me it felt like both.
|From the roof of my house the city comes to life around me.|