Finals began today. The “reason” I came to Spain is coming to an end and the test was this morning. Walking to my 9am literature final I had more than one emotion flowing through me; confusion with the different names of poem authors in my head and sadness from the fact that this is my last week in Spain. My thoughtful and deep lit teacher Jacobo hands me the poem and I go at it. I try to be as sensitive and corny as possible seeing as that is what all poetry is: an explosion of emotions about the most intimate feelings in our hearts. Words about God, souls, love and passion line my paper. Hopefully he’ll eat it up.
The clock tolls 11 and its pens down, final one check off the list. Lunch isn’t until 2 so we have time to kill. Stores are just opening their doors so with my euros in my bag I head into the stores. I pick up some needed things; gifts for my financial providers aka ma y pa, a shirt for me for Friday’s Spain game, (gotta rep the fuerza roja!).
The first owner we spoke with helped us sort through earrings and key chains and sent us on our way with an “adios guapas” aka goodbye beautiful girls. The next store brought an extremely helpful women who chatted with us about our time here. Yesterday a Spanish women in Carrefour (basically Costco) told us we were intelligent for learning another language. Why do I have to leave now that the Spanish people are starting to like me??
After spending money on little Salamanca souvenirs it was time for tapas. Seeing that it was around 11am we decided it was late enough in the day for a glass of wine. Walking in and out of 3 tapas bars before we settled on one who’s selection was mouth watering. We order a slice of gorgonzola cheese with a red pepper on bread, mushrooms with ham (naturally) and bacalao in a red sauce, extra bread. Our snack turned into a small lunch when after an 45 minutes we wanted more wine. It only costs 2.10 to get a glass of wine and a tapa, wine alone is more, so in order to save money we got more food. Tortilla española and a mystery dish of chorizo and egg accompanied our next two glasses of wine. Feeling good it was time to hit up Calle Torro, the shopping street.
Although we have no goal or reason to be there it seems natural to walk down the street through the Plaza Mayor and onto Calle Torro. The sun bakes our skin, it is only 12 but it is already 90 degrees. After window shopping at most places and chatting about God only knows what we sit next to the church across from Carrefour. Reviewing spanish conversational terms I can’t help thinking what people think when they hear phrases of “help me when you can” “curly” “down the block” “I am dizzy” said in my tentative spanish voice as I test out the pronunciations. Around 1:30 sweaty and tanned we make our way home for lunch which Rosa, my madre, always calls comida (food).
I am already getting to nostalgic as I walk the streets I have become familiar with. These 6 weeks have flown by, only 3 days until I board the bus and head towards Madrid.
This is when I look to a phrase that always calms my worries
All good things must come to an end
my feet don't want to go to sleep 