You know you've lived in Spain when...

The "You know you've lived in Spain when..." list was passed along to us a few months ago.  We have cut-down the original version to include our top 36 experiences, listed below.  For those of you who studied abroad in Spain, or for our friends living in Spain now - we think you'll agree, and for everyone else, by the end of the list you will have a better idea of what our year abroad in Spain has been like.  Enjoy!

1) Adding lemonade, fanta, or even coke to red wine is perfectly acceptable.  Especially at lunch time.

2) You eat lunch at 2pm and would never think of having your evening meal before 9pm.

3) If you see someone wearing a T-shirt with something written on it in English, you can almost guarantee it won’t make sense.

4) You think the precious aceite (olive oil) is a vital part of every meal.  And you don’t understand how anyone could think olive oil on toast is weird.

5) Not giving every new acquaintance dos besos (two kisses) seems so rude.

6) A bull’s head on the wall of a bar isn’t a talking point for you; it’s just part of the décor.

7) Every sentence you speak contains at least one of these words: “bueno” “vale” “venga” “pues nada”…

8) You’ve been part of a botellon.

9) You think it’s fine to comment on everyone’s appearance.  And to openly stare at strangers.

10) You forget to say please when asking for things – it’s implied in your tone of voice, right?

11) You know what a pijo is and how to spot one.

12) You love the phenomenon of giving ‘toques’ – but hate explaining it in English.

13) You know that after 2pm there’s no point in going shopping, you might as well just have a siesta until 5pm when the shops re-open.

14) The sound of mopeds in the background is the soundtrack to your life.

15) The fact that all the male (or female) members of a family have the same first name doesn’t surprise you.

16)  You know what ‘resaca’ means.  And you probably had one at least once a week when you lived in Spain.

17) You know that the mullet didn’t just happen in the 80’s.  It is alive and well in Spain.

18) It’s not rude to answer the intercom to your flat by asking “Quien?” (Which would be the same as saying “Who?” when someone calls.)

19) You know the difference between cojones and cajones, tener calor and estar caliente, pollo and polla… and maybe you learned the differences the hard way!

20) On Sunday morning you have breakfast before going to bed, not after you get up.

21) Floors in certain bars are an ideal dumping ground for your colillas (toothpicks), servilletas (napkins), etc.  Why use a bin?!

22) You know ensaladilla rusa has nothing to do with Russia.

23) You have friends names Jesus, Jose Maria, Maria Jose, Angel, maybe even Inmaculada Concepcion…

24) When you make plans to meet friends at 3:00, the first person turns up at 3:30… if you’re lucky!

25) Who needs a dryer when you have a washing line outside the window of your apartment?

26) When women think that clear bra straps are in fact invisible.

27) When you know what a guiri is/ have been called one.

28) Blonde girls actually start to think their name is ‘rubia’.

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29) If something’s great, it’s “de puta madre”

30) On messenger you sometimes type ‘jajaja’ instead of ‘hahaha’.

31) When you go into a bank/ bakery, etc. it’s standard practice to ask ‘Quien es la ultima?’ (Who is last?) because there is never an organized line.

32) When you accept that paying with a 50 euro note is going to get you a dirty look if you’re buying something that costs less than 40 euro.

33) You eat at least 5 times a day – first breakfast when you wake up, a second breakfast around 11:3.  Around 2:30 you eat lunch, and then when you wake up from you siesta at 5:00 you have a snack.  Finally you're ready for dinner at about 10:00.

34) When you add ‘super’ in front of any Spanish adjective for emphasis.

35) You aren’t just surprised that the plumber/decorator has turned up on time; you’re surprised he turned up at all.

36) Central heating is most definitely a foreign concept.  In winter you just huddle around the heater under the table and pull the blanket up over your knees… and sleep with about 5 blankets on your bed!

Cabo de Gata: Edge of Spain. Esto no es normal.

Since our first weeks in Spain, we have long heard about the beauty of the southern coast of Spain.  From the southwestern beaches of Cadiz and Tarifa, to Malaga and Marbella, to the mountainous southeast of Cabo de Gata, we had hoped to visit all three.  We've been fortunate enough to visit the first two and were going for the 'hat trick' this weekend.  It was me (Todd) and 4 girls, so I wasn't exactly dragging my feet.   However, I could have used a little more testosterone.

Between the five of us, we were all 'automatic' (transmission) drivers -- no one had the ability, or at least the confidence, to put four other lives in their hands while driving a manual car through the mountains in southern Spain.  It was a logistical nightmare to find an automatic car at a reasonable rate, close to our hometown, but after some negotiating, some backtracking and a simultaneous back-massage by all four girls (only in my dreams) we were off on our next adventure.

 None of us work on Friday (thank you 12 hours/week work schedule), so we were able to leave Thursday evening after work -- by work, I mean sitting in a classroom for three hours.  I'd like to say the drive down to the coast was beautiful, but since it was dark, we didn't see anything.  However, I'm pretty sure it was still beautiful.  A short 3 hours later, we were pulling into the Los Escullos section of Cabo de Gata around midnight.

Not the view at midnight.

The area of Los Escullos is a section known for it's camping and bungalows, also known for being a desert -- a minor detail in our opinion.  The fact that the front desk employee was actually awake and waiting for us, and the fact that it was being nominated for the 2012 Camping Site of the year, probably gave us all a false sense of confidence of what we were walking into.  However, we were essentially paying about 10Euro/night, so I suppose our expectations should not have been too high.

After checking-in, we navigated our way to bungalow 35.  The fun started when we were 'shushed' by our not-so-friendly camping neighbors upon our arrival -- I was with a crazy group of girls, impossible to control.  The key unlocked the front door, and then things got interesting.  By that, I mean the terrible smell that had been festering in the pre-used, unflushed toilet was released unto its first victims -- the five of us.  Apparently, as part of their cleaning ritual, they leave guests an unsuspecting welcome present in the toilet.

The odd smell continued to permeate throughout the bungalow as we wondered what to do.  As we opened the bathroom to throw away a mysterious rag left in our room (no surprise), we were all exposed to the unforgettable stench that would haunt our sleep for nights to come.  Once we worked up the courage to flush the present, we were rewarded with a running toilet.  For the next five minutes the toilet continued to flush ... until, I was designated to fix the toilet because I was a man.  It clearly goes without saying I fixed the toilet... because I am a man.

About the same time, our 'friend' from the front desk was walking around the campsite with a flashlight (I assume and hope he was on official business).  I approached him as he asked if everything was okay.  I quickly replied it was not.  Normally, I would have had some funny comment (to me, at least), or probably a joke, but my humor has suffered a little as I can't always find the words to say in Spanish, of what I am thinking in English.  He profusely apologized.  We thought this couldn't be exactly a normal occurrence, especially from the prestigious campsites of Los Escullos, I mean, my goodness, it's a 2012 award nominee.

He informed us that "esto no es normal".  This is not normal.  He told us that we should simply change bungalows.  He quickly reappeared with two keys as I informed the girls of our upcoming departure.  He walked us along to the gravel path to a nearby bungalow, where we entered.  I brought along one of the girls, to make sure it would meet the satisfaction of the female faction of our group.  We entered and he looked at us with such expectancy, I think I was half-expecting a surprise party to welcome us, or at least some sort of animal to jump out of the bedroom.  Something.  We looked around, smelled around, and it seemed to pass the initial test.  Unfortunately, we hadn't yet entered the bathroom.  The shower doors were broken.  He groaned, "Lo siento.  No es normal."  Again, I'm sorry, this isn't normal.

As we were quickly transferred to our third bungalow we were beginning to wonder if we would ever find a place to sleep.  Sleeping in the car was quickly becoming an attractive option.  We entered bungalow #3 and again we were met with a foul smell.  He didn't seem to notice.   This time, we didn't even want to search for the cause.  Ruth and I looked at each other and wondered what to do.  We quickly decided that we could forgo the fully operational shower doors, in order to have a normal-smelling bungalow for the next three days.

We informed the man, that we would actually prefer the second bungalow.  We returned and he made a mad-dash to the bathroom in apparent hopes of making a quick 1am repair of the shower doors.  The following 5 minutes would be the funniest of the entire weekend.  The gentlemen preceded to sit on the floor, then to reposition himself by standing up, only to sit back down, trying to open, close, reopen, adjust, angle the doors in order to set them correctly.  At the beginning, his technique was gentle, like a surgeon on the operating table.  "Esto no es normal" he calmly explained again.  Again, this is not normal.  He began calmly, the artist and his paintbrush.  With each passing minute, his movement became rougher.  The frustration mounted.  The calm man was now fully converted into a wild beast, wildly swinging the doors like Bam-Bam from the Flintstones. Dr. Jekyll had become Mr. Hyde (or is it the other way around?).   We were now greeted with an angry cave-man swinging madly swinging the shower doors.  Now, we were hearing grunts, moans, and shouts and shrills of ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL, ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL, ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL!!!  Repeat this about ten more times, increasing your decibel level each time, and you can somewhat recreate the scene.

Before Bam Bam decided to put a hole through the wall, we let him off the hook and told that we weren't going to shower tonight and maybe and he could just send someone the next morning.  Red in the face, he agreed, and sauntered off.

We were finally at home in Los Escullos, ready to enjoy the next three days at the beach, embracing the windy afternoons and enjoying the natural beauty of southern Spain.  We had a great time in the bungalows (even without fully operational shower doors) and on the beach.  I'm not sure if we will place our vote for Los Escullos Camping in the 2012 competition.

... the door was never fixed.  However, I'm sure, 'esto no es normal'.

Los Hermanos - Part I - London

We had been looking forward to our next visitors (our brothers, or los hermanos) since our last visitors (Pete & Katherine Schlemmer) left. Our brothers were able to coordinate their schedules so that they could partake on a 10-day European adventure together. All of the pieces came together really well -- we would meet in London, followed by a visit to the Costa del Sol (Málaga, Spain), a few days in our town, Linares, and a 24-hour adventure in Madrid.

Thursday after school Todd and I took the train from Linares to Madrid (for the 71st time), caught a flight in Madrid and landed at the London Gatwick airport early, only to wait in a slooooow Customs line. There was only 1 desk open for all of the non-EU citizens entering the country. Once it was finally our turn, Todd and I went to up to the counter together to answer a few simple questions from the officer about our time in London. We stumbled over the first one: "How many days will you be visiting?" I blurt out "4 days" at the exact time Todd correctly says "3 days"... luckily we didn't look too suspicious and they let us through. We rushed to catch the last train into the center of London, finally arriving in downtown London a little before 1am.

Almost there ... once we got our bearings it was a quick 30 minute walk to the hostel. Todd was too stingy to try to flag down a taxi. Matt and Evan were nice enough to wait up for us and we exchanged big hugs and promptly ordered a pint. It's always a surreal moment when we get to see our friends and family on this side of the ocean. We did some catching up, take advantage of the 7 pound pizza special (the British currency, not the weight) before going to bed... at 4:00am. A 'brilliant 'start to the trip!

London Day #1
The next morning we were late to bed, early to rise (doesn't work out that well) for our first day in the city and there was lots to see. 'Los hermanos' headed to the Tower of London and since Todd and I have both been to London before, and seen the Tower we decided to save the hefty 18£ admission fee, and we walked along the South Bank heading to the Tate Modern, which was FREE -- much closer to our budget.



London is an expensive city, the sights that charge an admission (Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, St.Paul's Cathedral, London Eye) cost a pretty penny, or pence, as they say in the UK. But luckily the majority of the museums are FREE!

1:00pm at the London Bridge was our meeting point, which happened to be in the middle of a typically London downpour, so we hovered under umbrellas and marched to the Burroughs Market for lunch. It was a great experience! The market consists of stall after stall selling meats, cheeses, fresh produce, pastries, and warm prepared, international dishes. It is a foodies heaven! After sampling a little bit of everything - cheeses, salamis, olive oils, duck sandwiches, chicken curry, and sweets we were off to our next stop - the British Museum.


Tower Bridge



Posing for a picture in front of the British Museum.

The funny thing about the British Museum is that there are actually few very (if any at all) authentic British artifacts. It is more of a holding place for all of the things they have stolen, ah hem, acquired, over the course of their history. We focused on Egypt and Ancient Greece with the highlights being the Rosetta Stone and the Parthenon artifacts, especially since Todd and I had just visited Athens, Greece, back in February. We could have easily spent daysssss looking around if our feet weren't so tired from all the walking we had done.


The Rosetta Stone


Artifacts from the Pantheon.





We left the British Museum finding the closest pub to the exit, never mind that it was touristy and overpriced, but it felt so good to get off our feet! We made it to another part of town for dinner later that night at The Old Bank of London, an old bank converted into a restaurant, as the name would imply :) where our meal consisted of nachos and a meat pie assortment platter, along with some Fullers beer tasting.

With some newly purchased Prince William & Kate playing cards, we decided to call it an early night and headed back to the hostel. Todd and I taught Matt and Evan an "authentic" Spanish card game called bullshit. It's still under debate whether Todd or Matt won the second to last game... but I think it's safe to say it didn't keep any of us from falling asleep later that night.


A great quote on the wall at our hostel.

London Day #2
Pissing rain. Bloody Hell! It rained our ENTIRE second day in London, :( With no other option, we trudged through the puddles (some of us with smiles), umbrellas in hand and made the most of it.



We took the long walking route from our hostel to St. Paul's Cathedral - passing the London Eye, walking over Millennium Bridge on our way.




Evan and Todd on the Millenium Bridge.


Now it´s our turn! Nancy and Matt


St. Paul´s Cathedral




I sat out the visit to St. Paul´s visit today, because I had seen it on my earlier trip, so the boys left me at a Starbucks on the corner while they went on the tour and walked the 259 steps to the top of the dome. After they returned to rescue me from my caffeine buzz, we chowed down on a typical London lunch, let me rephrase that, a typical London tourist lunch - bangers and mash, fish and chips & Texas chili cheese fries (we had to give America a little food hug).

Despite our carb/fried food induced food-coma, we decided to fight through it and took the tube to check out Camden Town. It was a cool part of town with a very alternative feel and unique, decorative store fronts (check out the pics below). We found a covered market and hung out there for a bit to escape from the rain. I could have looked around for hours, but shopping with 3 boys was a different experience... within 5 minutes of being back out in the rain we decided we were sick of it. Where do you turn, when you're cold, wet and don't feel like doing any more sightseeing?? The closest pub!


Some examples of the decorative store fronts.



Over a few pints we pondered the biggest question on all of our minds: WHY do people actually chose to live here? With so much sun and warm weather both in Georgia and Andalucia, Spain, it seems so bizarre to me that someone would actually choose to live somewhere where it rains and is dreary so much of the time. Aren´t they miserable all of the time? Personally, I´ve come to realize that weather directly influences my mood... when it´s sunny and warm, I´m happy. When it´s cloudy and rainy, if I have to do anything other that lay around in bed and watch movies, I´m not my usual cheery self. So... what do typical London-ers do to deal with the rain?? How do they keep up their spirits?

It was about this time that we stumbled across the answer of how London-ers actually deal with the rain. They drink. A lot. When we deicded to take a break from the rain around 5, we had trouble finding a bar where there was even standing room inside. We finally stumbled across one with a lone, empty table empty in the back corner of the pub, where we squeezed in and ordered drinks as quickly as possible. Once we stopped and looked around we realized there must be some unwritten rule in London that when it rains it's socially acceptable to start drinking at any time of the day. The place was packed and it was pretty apparent that most people were not slowly sipping on their first beverages of the day. So, I came to my own conclusion, in London people drink to happily deal with the weather. I suppose there are worse solutions.



Later in the evening we headed to Kensal Green, a more authentic part of London, a bit outside of the normal tourist perimeter to meet up with Lucy, a book-friend of Todd's and her friend, upcoming singer- songwriter, Paul Freeman -- he's opening for The Who this Fall, buy your tickets. We wandered around for 15 minutes trying to find the pub where we were supposed to meet them, getting drenched in the process. We ended up giving up, turning around to a pub we saw a few blocks back, Henry IV. The place was a bust, but thank goodness Lucy and Paul came to our rescue leaving their friends at the last bar, and came to meet us for a quick pint, before bringing us to another, much cooler bar in the same area where we shared another pint before dashing (literally running) across the street to the Underground to catch the last train back into the city.




What do you do when you´re alone on the tube???

Sunday
Goodbye London. ¡Hola Málaga!

Last memory of London: Security. I walk through the body scanner, it goes off and I get a full pat down. Matt set off the alarms by 'forgetting' he was carrying a pocket knife. He was quickly 'invited' to a cross-examination by some serious-looking Policemen and their machine guns. Todd went on a last minute adventure backtracking through security (actually checking himself out of security, so he would be allowed back in) in order to find a container smaller than 100mL to transfer his fancy hair gel into a proper carry-on sized container... 30 minutes before our gate closed. It turns out the European first-timer, Evan, was the only one to make it through without a problem! With only 15 minutes to go before our flight closed we rush to find the nearest screen telling us where to go, only to find out it has been delayed.

Once we had time to decompress after the security experience we all realized they've probably tightened security in order to prepare for the upcoming Olympic Games. Yes, officers, you are doing a wonderful job.




A sneak peek at the medals for the 2012 Olympic Games this summer in London.