Cat in the Boiler

Not sure how to wrap up the last few days, I should have blogged better. I got into Spain and into Santiago just fine. During the 30 hours that was the trip, there is a lot of time to worry and think of the what ifs. What if I dont get in? What if they ask about the UK stamp in my passport, the one with the giant X through it? What if I get in but the ryanair flight I bought is only for Europeans OR the boarding pass I had Ania print me in Poland doesnt work because ITS IN POLISH? And if all of these work out, what if Iria isnt at the airport to pick me up? What do I do then?

Needless to say, I got in, got the ryanair flight and Iria was at the airport. I live in As Pontes, its a small town almost near A Coruna. We eat fish twice a day. I dont eat fish but have always said that I would eat what was put in front of me when a guest in someones house, and so I have. I am not picky, I´ll eat just about anything...or so I thought.

July in Spain is chalk full of festivals. San Juan is very cool, giant bonfires that burn all night long. Smaller fires are built for people to jump over, to cleanse people of evil spirits. San Juan is on June 25 (I think) the shortest night of the year. Beaches are full of people and their fires and you can always hear bagpipes(gaita). The next night was another festival for some catholic saint. We drove to Carlos´ brothers house, a dairy farm. It was amazing, the houses are all 100 plus years old, made of stone with slate roofs. Its incredible how similar their family is to mine in different ways but maybe everyone has that Uncle, the one that pokes and tickles, the trickster, the jokester. Everyone has the aunts who cook and dote on kids, and the grandmother with the plate of desserts who sends you home with Kinder Bueno bars. (score! these are my favorite candy bars, discovered in Ireland and not available in US) At the dinner table I dont know what is being said, but I laugh when others laugh, nod and look at speakers as if I totally understand. Anything said to me recieves the 'Si' response because thats all I can offer.

Carlos tells Cruz the story of how he asked me 'Would you like coffee?'

Everything said among family is spoken in the regional language of Galician, its a mix of Portugese and Spanish and I cannot understand.

I love that alcohol is always present but rarely drank. Carlos always drinks nonalcoholic beer and although white wine was on the table, everyone opted for water or Fanta. The only time I saw people drink was a little before lunch, and after dinner the my age kids drank before we went dancing at the fiesta. By the way, the boys know how to dance. Tengo and salsa kinda dance. Cruz, Iria and Dani's mother says all country boys know how to dance because its the only way to hang out with girls. And in the country there are many little festivals and fiestas and the boys have to know how to dance, at least the pasodoble, the regional two step. Carlos is a 50 year old country boy, always dancing.

With the help of Iria, I talked tractors with the cousins which was fun. They prefer John Deere, but I saw the neighbors bailing with Massey Ferg and I about spazzed. I´ve asked if I could come live and work on the dairy and they said they´d be happy to have me, so maybe this is where I´m bound after graduation. Must learn spanish. I´m learning a lot already, I´d love to be fluent. Iria and Dani often ask the difference between tough words like bitch and beach, shit and sheet, beer, bear and bird. Yesterday Iria asked me the difference in ´me too´ and ´so do I´ that was a tough one I had to think about.

Dani is 15 and loves to quote the Simpsons. He has taken to the phrase SHUT UP, after I corrected his ´SHUT UP YOUR MOUTH´. Sure wish I didnt teach him that because now he says it, and when I told him it was mean he says, ¨`Its a yoke! I am a yoker!¨`