Hello blogueros, this is a slightly different post today. I realised, while googling 'how to avoid committing suicide while spending Christmas Day by yourself' (I am kidding... but some websites pretty much say this!) that there is a distinct lack of practical advice out there for people who, for whatever reason, are not going to be with their nearest and dearest. So here is my self-help guide.
Christmas has long been advertised as the time for families to get together. If you don't make an effort any other time of year, Christmas should be the time that you do, right? Well my question to you is this: how does that make ANY sense? Christmas is the very worst time of year to travel (overcrowded public transport, flight delays and cancellations, over-priced tickets, snow, rain, wind, etc etc). Not only that, but if you do chose to travel, you have to stay in said place for days on end (unless you have a car) because transport stops functioning properly. Also, back in the days of Dickens, the servants most certainly didn't get a day off to be with their family, and the working class were in the majority back then. So where exactly does this romantic view of Christmas with the family come from?
One word: Oxo.
Yes, the gravy/stock people. Their adverts forever tell us that the whole family should be around the same table on Christmas Day. Well oxo, I have to ask, WHY?! It had never really happened before unless you were upper class, so why do we put so much emphasis on it now? All it does is make a great proportion of England feel under pressure to produce this amazing day, with very little chance of everything being 'perfect' because life isn't like that. And those of us faced with the prospect of spending Christmas by ourselves find ourselves googling 'how the heck do we survive? We're going so against the grain I won't make it past midday!'
Fear not. Here's some tips that I would have found useful over the past few weeks, if I'd bothered getting in touch with Dr Who and jumping into his TARDIS, going into the future to post this, then going back again.
1) Do what makes you happy. If you wanna wear your jimjams all day, then fine. But work out whether this will actually serve to make you think about Bridget Jones and therefore end up depressed. If jimjams = genuine happiness, then go for it. If jimjams = depression, get up, get dressed, put make-up on.
2) Make a slap-up lunch. Even if there is just you. So it doesn't have to have ALL the trimmings, in fact, you might be in a country where stuffing doesn't exist (like me). I decided that I was going to have a bash at making stuffing from scratch, which was very fun. But as Spanish sausages aren't much cop, and neither is their bacon, I decided to scrap the idea of pigs in blankets because they would just be a disappointment. Weigh up before the day what would be great to treat yourself to, and what would just be not worth bothering with. Chances are you'll end up with some kind of traditional meat, some roast spuds (very simple to make when you get down to it) and some veg. If you're in foreign lands, make your family post you some gravy, because no Christmas dinner isn't complete without it, and it makes any culinary disasters look edible!
3) Take pictures! It helps your family to know that you're still alive and having Christmas regardless. I say this from experience :)
4) Skype. Is a marvelous thing. It's amazing how many people you can end up talking to on Christmas day even when you're not with them. Webcam is also nice, unless you're the sort of person who'll end up sobbing over it.
5) It's all in the mindset. If you wake up and think that the day's gonna be rubbish, then it will be, and I will personally disown you for letting the Oxo adverts beat you into submission! DON'T GIVE THEM THE SATISFACTION!
6) Go for a walk. Seriously. Find out when sunset is and head out about 3/4 hour before that time, and you could be in for a treat if you look sky-wards. If not, head into the town and look at the Christmas lights.
7) Remember, Christmas is just another day! You've never spontaneously combusted before just because you've not been with your family, and it's not about to happen now! It's just a day, 24 hours, like any other, and it's really not a big deal.
8) If you're in the God Squad, just think, Mary and Joseph didn't have stuffing, pigs in blankets, or gravy either. Also, if you believe in Christmas for what it really is, every day should be Christmas because every day we should be remembering that Jesus came for us. Yay! So it really doesn't matter where, when, or how you celebrate. In fact, celebrating every day would be far more appropriate!
9) Christmas happens every year. If you live to the average age, you'll have at least 74 other Christmases with your family to look back on. Surely that's enough for anyone?! You're really not missing out. Missing someone's wedding, that could be considered missing out, because it's (hopefully) a once-in-a-life-time event.
10) Go get yourself something nice. In some parts of the world (like Spain) gift wrap is a big thing, and it doesn't cost anymore than the cashier just shoving it in a carrier. Get it gift wrapped so you have something to open :D
11) Remember - this means you don't have to watch the Christmas episode of Eastenders! WIN!!!!
There we are, a little list of stuff to help you survive. In fact, it's more than surviving, it's ENJOYING. So chin up, keep calm, and carry on.
Until next time! xxx
Sunday, 25 December 2011
Thursday, 15 December 2011
Difficult Jet, Galician, and an uncomfy bed.
So, as you've probably guessed, I'm back in Spain. I came back to a complete and utter montón (mountain) of work. So I am a bit stressed. I also have the Galician exam this afternoon, and to say I will not pass is an understatement. Not that I need to pass, because I'm doing too many credits anyway, but the point is that it's a waste of my time even sitting in the exam.
Anyhoo. I am also doing far much teaching of English. And I've realised that English is a stupid language. My other point that I need to ramble on about is how the attitude of English people RE foreign languages STINKS. We know this already, due to the lack of translators and interpreters who have English as their mother tongue which means that foreign shampoo bottles are being translated to English by Spanish people (which is clearly not ideal and goes against the grain entirely). But the latest example manifested itself when Steph and I were flying back to Spain. The company we fly with (for legal reasons I won't say their name, but we'll call them DifficultJet) is an English company, but as they insist on flying to Bilbao (which is the back end of beyond in Spanish terms) their flights mainly have Spanish people on. However, NONE of the air-hostesses speak Spanish, and they just assume that by talking in ridiculously complicated English (albeit slow English), Spanish people will understand.
One poor woman didn't understand that if she didn't fit her handbag into her hand luggage, she'd have to pay £40 to book it into the hold. It was CLEAR she didn't really understand, but there was no acknowledgement that she didn't speak English because we think everyone speaks our language.
My other beef with Difficult Jet is that the safety announcements do happen in both English and Spanish, but the actions only happen to the English announcements. And, moreover, the actions happen before the words have been said. As an amateur choreographer, this annoys the heck out of me. Actions should slightly lag behind, otherwise the recording is saying 'fasten your belt like this' and it's already been done ten minutes ago!
Anyway. Rant over.
New rant: my bed is still uncomfortable.
Hasta luego blogueros, have a better week than mine! x
Anyhoo. I am also doing far much teaching of English. And I've realised that English is a stupid language. My other point that I need to ramble on about is how the attitude of English people RE foreign languages STINKS. We know this already, due to the lack of translators and interpreters who have English as their mother tongue which means that foreign shampoo bottles are being translated to English by Spanish people (which is clearly not ideal and goes against the grain entirely). But the latest example manifested itself when Steph and I were flying back to Spain. The company we fly with (for legal reasons I won't say their name, but we'll call them DifficultJet) is an English company, but as they insist on flying to Bilbao (which is the back end of beyond in Spanish terms) their flights mainly have Spanish people on. However, NONE of the air-hostesses speak Spanish, and they just assume that by talking in ridiculously complicated English (albeit slow English), Spanish people will understand.
One poor woman didn't understand that if she didn't fit her handbag into her hand luggage, she'd have to pay £40 to book it into the hold. It was CLEAR she didn't really understand, but there was no acknowledgement that she didn't speak English because we think everyone speaks our language.
My other beef with Difficult Jet is that the safety announcements do happen in both English and Spanish, but the actions only happen to the English announcements. And, moreover, the actions happen before the words have been said. As an amateur choreographer, this annoys the heck out of me. Actions should slightly lag behind, otherwise the recording is saying 'fasten your belt like this' and it's already been done ten minutes ago!
Anyway. Rant over.
New rant: my bed is still uncomfortable.
Hasta luego blogueros, have a better week than mine! x
Monday, 5 December 2011
The night that happened in reverse!
My dear Blogueros, I thought you might all appreciate it if I don't wedge every detail of my week in the motherland into one great big blog post at the end of the week, so here's details of my Lancaster trip!
First off, we arrived in Manchester Airport (after the captain telling us 'welcome to England, it's 3 degrees...') and I had the surprise of my life when Emily and Raph appeared! They'd come to surprise me and it really was a surprise! So Raph drove us back to Lancaster, where the first port of call was Greggs for a pasty, then Diggles, then the Learning Zone (I really know how to live the high life!). I said hello to all the usual suspects that were working in there, then me and Steph went to see Olga at 2.40ish, only to find her there with José saying 'oh you're early'! Just to be polite me and Steph had been 10mins late anyway to prove we were working on Spanish time! So we went back at 3 (well, 3.10 to be on the safe side) and had a good old chin-wag with Olga. It was lovely to see her and get some perspective and advice. After that I went to Emily's for a fix of Favourite Pasta, then we all went to Gabby's 21st birthday party in Chorley, which was good fun.
Saturday became the strangest day of my life so far, and that is saying something! First on the agenda was lunch at the Borough with the Learning Zone people (which is a fairly extended family thanks to the ridiculous numbers of hours we spent together last year). It was amazing to eat real food with lovely people! Then I went to Beth's and helped her house put up their Christmas tree and eat cookies (om nom!). I went to have dinner cooked by Rachel, which was nice, then things started to get strange!
She cut her finger and it refused to stop bleeding! So after a call to NHS direct ('we are experiencing a high volume of calls... we'll call you back in 4 hours or hold to speak to an advisor' - needless to say I held!) we all had a student trip to A&E. We were booked in to see Soulrigg perform in Grad Bar, so Emily and Zoe stayed with Rach, Laura and Gabby went to sit in the White Cross to wait in case it was a long job and I headed to a standing-room-only gig. It was amazing, but I don't think the band realise that the true victims of their success are their fans who never get a seat these days! Anyway, I then went back to town to find everyone was sat in the White Cross drinking vino! So I decided it would be rude not to join. We were kicked out around 1.30 so we went back to 1 Stanley Place for a coffee...
Literally, we were talking so much that we never got the coffee. In fact, after 3am I lost all concept of what 'just another half an hour' meant, and the next thing we knew it was 6.30! Rach had been sensible and gone to bed, and the rest of us were sat gossiping. It was only Emily's declaration of 'hang on, I'm sober now' that made us realise time had passed! But then we decided we couldn't go to bed at 6.30, and we wanted brekkie, so we waited till 7 and went to Wetherspoons! As it was pitch black outside and we were a little hyper from lack of sleep, it honestly felt like we were going for a night out. So we had brekkie, then came home and went to bed - hence the title 'the night that happened in reverse'. I got two hours kip, then had to get up to go for even more food.
I met up with Fiona and Eric (at the White Cross - so I had the distinction of being the last one out and the first one back in again!) for a Christmas dinner, then I went to number 1 again for a chat before heading to campus.
I have never seen so much food as Raph's flatmates managed to put together! In fact, we had to go for a walk before pudding, to wake us up and let everything rest. So it does feel like I've had Christmas now, and it's been a lovely few days. Thank you to everyone who made it so hilarious, wonderful, and beautiful :)
I got to York today, and now it's time for some more English-ness. Hasta luego Blogueros! xxx
Thursday, 1 December 2011
San Seb, Plentzia, Agony Aunts and washing.
Oh my dear Blogueros! I am so sorry to leave you hanging for so long, wondering what's become of little old me. I really shouldn't let things slide so... before I know it you'll all be in rehab suffering from terrible Lucy-Cakes withdrawal and I'll be being sued for cruelty to blogueros (which, in case you're wondering, is a completely made-up Spanish-sounding name for those who follow my bloggio - which is a completely made-up Italian-sounding name for this rambling piece of rubbish you're reading now.
Well now, not that much has happened. I had a delightful day in San Sebastián two weekends ago, and another nice day in Plentzia last weekend. Both have pretty stunning beaches and it felt good to get out of Bilbao. I took lots of pictures in San Sebastián, thanks to the ridiculously beautiful scenery - check out facebook (I'll post the public links at the bottom for those of you who are facebook-less).
Today I went to teach my two lovely Spanish girls, Maria and Helene. Mum brought me some teen magazines when she came so I read some of the problems on the problem pages and asked the girls to be the agony aunts. It was good fun and they were much more sympathetic than I would have been with a pile of stroppy, idiotic teens who have nothing better to do than burden some poor woman in an office somewhere with daft questions like 'my girlfriend's in love with Ashton from JLS, so should I become a singer?' Honestly.
In other news, I hung my washing out to dry as it's 20 degrees even though it's December. This is the craziest autumn/winter I've ever had! It was a bit windy though so I had to go and rescue my trousers because they blew off the line!
And now I am trying to keep very calm and collected, because nothing is happening tomorrow. You know, nothing like a casual visit to Lancaster followed by York ;) So, I shall blog again when I return from that-which-is-not-happening ;) Hasta luego! xxx
San Seb pics: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2630395728294.2145307.1507386366&type=1&l=fff0989974
Well now, not that much has happened. I had a delightful day in San Sebastián two weekends ago, and another nice day in Plentzia last weekend. Both have pretty stunning beaches and it felt good to get out of Bilbao. I took lots of pictures in San Sebastián, thanks to the ridiculously beautiful scenery - check out facebook (I'll post the public links at the bottom for those of you who are facebook-less).
Today I went to teach my two lovely Spanish girls, Maria and Helene. Mum brought me some teen magazines when she came so I read some of the problems on the problem pages and asked the girls to be the agony aunts. It was good fun and they were much more sympathetic than I would have been with a pile of stroppy, idiotic teens who have nothing better to do than burden some poor woman in an office somewhere with daft questions like 'my girlfriend's in love with Ashton from JLS, so should I become a singer?' Honestly.
In other news, I hung my washing out to dry as it's 20 degrees even though it's December. This is the craziest autumn/winter I've ever had! It was a bit windy though so I had to go and rescue my trousers because they blew off the line!
And now I am trying to keep very calm and collected, because nothing is happening tomorrow. You know, nothing like a casual visit to Lancaster followed by York ;) So, I shall blog again when I return from that-which-is-not-happening ;) Hasta luego! xxx
San Seb pics: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2630395728294.2145307.1507386366&type=1&l=fff0989974
Bilbao sunset: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2637759952395.2145430.1507386366&type=1&l=362a633d7c
Plentzia: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2676437159301.2145965.1507386366&type=1&l=9d5149825d
Sunday, 20 November 2011
'Hola hola'... 'hello hello!'
Helloooo world. Yes I have been a slight recluse recently, but luckily my sanity has decided to join me once more (better late than never).
This week has passed in a flurry of everyone being absolutely pooped. On Tuesday the teacher of our 9am was like 'it's only Tuesday. And we're all tired. What are we going to be like by Friday?' Sadly, she never found out, as I slept straight through my alarm and didn't make it to Friday's lecture, which I NEVER normally do. But here I have very little motivation to get up for lectures I don't enjoy and should never have had to take in the first place. But I did have a lovely phone call from the Superwoman of Lancaster, who is Olga, on Friday. I answered the phone with 'hola' and she replied with her wonderful 'hola hola'! When she'd told me who she was I was like 'ohhh hi!' and then I got 'hello hello!'. I've never been more grateful for a phone call!
Anyhow, we had a great chat, and it feels good to know that someone in the department still cares whether we're all alive or dead. I don't even say that in a melodramatic sense, because once the department are done with our year they'll need to go for a lie down in a darkened room with a couple of asprin. In fact, they should probably bulk-buy the stuff for our final year, because all the 333 courses (these are new courses they're trying to introduce that will be compulsory in our final year) are going to be met with a certain degree of confusion. Watch this space. It doesn't help that we're all pretty confused people to start with, and when something's never been done before there's no one to tell us we'll be ok!
Yesterday I went to San Sebastian, all aloney on my owney, which was a wee bit scary but ultimately very much worth it. It was a lovely day, although every time a Spanish person said anything to me I suddenly didn't understand. It was incredible. And it just proves that foreign languages are not supposed to be spoken on a Saturday. I took 176 pictures or something crazy - 165 of which have made it onto facebook. I've no clue where the missing 11 are, but seriously guys, if 165 aren't enough for you, you need help (or something to do). The annoying thing was that the bay faces the wrong way to see a decent sunset in San Seb... Ironically my father got better sunset pics over Clifton (that part of York with the highest crime rate - I found PROOF so now everyone can stop telling me it's lovely) than I did in San Seb. Still, I got lots of lovely pics nonetheless.
And tomorrow commences the healthy eating and manic exercise regime with Suzy. I've completely given up on eating proper food it seems, so tomorrow all shall change! We're also going to go for some nice power walks by the river and hopefully get them to coincide with the sunset, to spur us on! The one thing I can say about Bilbao, is it's gorgeous in the evening and night. It's quite nice in the day if you wander round with your eyes closed, or only look at the Guggenheim (that thing on most of my pics that looks like a Blue Peter ship).
So, hasta luego blogueros! Much love, and thank you for reading my bloggio - I do appreciate it :) xxxx
This week has passed in a flurry of everyone being absolutely pooped. On Tuesday the teacher of our 9am was like 'it's only Tuesday. And we're all tired. What are we going to be like by Friday?' Sadly, she never found out, as I slept straight through my alarm and didn't make it to Friday's lecture, which I NEVER normally do. But here I have very little motivation to get up for lectures I don't enjoy and should never have had to take in the first place. But I did have a lovely phone call from the Superwoman of Lancaster, who is Olga, on Friday. I answered the phone with 'hola' and she replied with her wonderful 'hola hola'! When she'd told me who she was I was like 'ohhh hi!' and then I got 'hello hello!'. I've never been more grateful for a phone call!
Anyhow, we had a great chat, and it feels good to know that someone in the department still cares whether we're all alive or dead. I don't even say that in a melodramatic sense, because once the department are done with our year they'll need to go for a lie down in a darkened room with a couple of asprin. In fact, they should probably bulk-buy the stuff for our final year, because all the 333 courses (these are new courses they're trying to introduce that will be compulsory in our final year) are going to be met with a certain degree of confusion. Watch this space. It doesn't help that we're all pretty confused people to start with, and when something's never been done before there's no one to tell us we'll be ok!
Yesterday I went to San Sebastian, all aloney on my owney, which was a wee bit scary but ultimately very much worth it. It was a lovely day, although every time a Spanish person said anything to me I suddenly didn't understand. It was incredible. And it just proves that foreign languages are not supposed to be spoken on a Saturday. I took 176 pictures or something crazy - 165 of which have made it onto facebook. I've no clue where the missing 11 are, but seriously guys, if 165 aren't enough for you, you need help (or something to do). The annoying thing was that the bay faces the wrong way to see a decent sunset in San Seb... Ironically my father got better sunset pics over Clifton (that part of York with the highest crime rate - I found PROOF so now everyone can stop telling me it's lovely) than I did in San Seb. Still, I got lots of lovely pics nonetheless.
And tomorrow commences the healthy eating and manic exercise regime with Suzy. I've completely given up on eating proper food it seems, so tomorrow all shall change! We're also going to go for some nice power walks by the river and hopefully get them to coincide with the sunset, to spur us on! The one thing I can say about Bilbao, is it's gorgeous in the evening and night. It's quite nice in the day if you wander round with your eyes closed, or only look at the Guggenheim (that thing on most of my pics that looks like a Blue Peter ship).
So, hasta luego blogueros! Much love, and thank you for reading my bloggio - I do appreciate it :) xxxx
Friday, 11 November 2011
Today's a new day... and Erin's in town!
Hola blogueros.
So yesterday was a bad day. Crazy Grammar Woman (CGW) handed us our tests back, which about 6 of us had passed. Then she spent the rest of the lesson yelling at the ones of us that HAD passed, because we were apparently useless and we know nothing, and we never study. So she had a tizz-attack, which would normally have just been hilarious, but we weren't in the mood. Especially when she told Anila she'd throw chalk at her. (I'm sure I've already mentioned that the white board hasn't quite made it to Spain yet... technology eh!) Then she stood there and said 'so, you can have a test tomorrow. On everything'. So my resolution of not drinking coffee anymore due to lack of night-time sleeping managed to last less than 2 hours, due to severe stress levels. My dedication to that resolution was impressive.
But then things were ok, I went to Steph's lovely piso for tea and biccies, and the sunset was pretty gorgeous (see facebook for the pics). But. Still Lucy-Lou was not all that happy, therefore a late-night skype conversation happened (which is never a good idea - life always looks rubbish when it's dark outside), and my poor long-suffering father was faced with 'Dad I want to come hoooome!'
Still, having had said grammar test this morning (epic fail on every side. But somehow it doesn't feel like a fail when no one else has done well either!) and gone for a coffee with Fitzy (a lovely person I met at Church like the first week I was here), and Erin having arrived in Bilbao... this weekend is looking goooooood :) Now, time for a burger, a nap, teaching English, rubbish TV and happy times at Suzy's this evening with the lovely Erin who's come to make us all feel better! Toda la vida es sueño? No, but it never is. Here's the anthem of my life for the present time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8SPwT3nQZ8 - give it a watch if you get chance!
Catch you soon bloggy people who have nothing better to do than listen to me moan! (Just kidding, without you sad people there'd be no need for me to blog, haha)
So yesterday was a bad day. Crazy Grammar Woman (CGW) handed us our tests back, which about 6 of us had passed. Then she spent the rest of the lesson yelling at the ones of us that HAD passed, because we were apparently useless and we know nothing, and we never study. So she had a tizz-attack, which would normally have just been hilarious, but we weren't in the mood. Especially when she told Anila she'd throw chalk at her. (I'm sure I've already mentioned that the white board hasn't quite made it to Spain yet... technology eh!) Then she stood there and said 'so, you can have a test tomorrow. On everything'. So my resolution of not drinking coffee anymore due to lack of night-time sleeping managed to last less than 2 hours, due to severe stress levels. My dedication to that resolution was impressive.
But then things were ok, I went to Steph's lovely piso for tea and biccies, and the sunset was pretty gorgeous (see facebook for the pics). But. Still Lucy-Lou was not all that happy, therefore a late-night skype conversation happened (which is never a good idea - life always looks rubbish when it's dark outside), and my poor long-suffering father was faced with 'Dad I want to come hoooome!'
Still, having had said grammar test this morning (epic fail on every side. But somehow it doesn't feel like a fail when no one else has done well either!) and gone for a coffee with Fitzy (a lovely person I met at Church like the first week I was here), and Erin having arrived in Bilbao... this weekend is looking goooooood :) Now, time for a burger, a nap, teaching English, rubbish TV and happy times at Suzy's this evening with the lovely Erin who's come to make us all feel better! Toda la vida es sueño? No, but it never is. Here's the anthem of my life for the present time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8SPwT3nQZ8 - give it a watch if you get chance!
Catch you soon bloggy people who have nothing better to do than listen to me moan! (Just kidding, without you sad people there'd be no need for me to blog, haha)
Friday, 4 November 2011
How can I not look English?
Buenos días blogueros. How are we all? Well this week has been a week with two glorious days off (Monday and Tuesday) in which I slept and drank copious amounts of tea. Mum set me the challenge of using all 240 tea bags she brought with her before I leave (let's face it, not to do so would be a waste!) and I think this 4-day weekend may have made a slight dent in that number.
I have discovered that there is nothing quite like a Spanish supermarket. On the face of it, it looks like an English one, although it does tend to smell slightly more of fish and meat, due to the thousand dead carcasses they have at the back of the shop for adventurous people who don't want their chicken pre-packaged. It's when you get to the checkout that things get exciting. Who says the Spanish don't know how to queue? There is ALWAYS a queue. And none of the 'there are ten people waiting, maybe we should open another till'. Ho no. So you wait. And wait. And wait. You finally get your shopping on the belt, then you have to wait again because the person in front of you didn't realise they had to weigh and print off a label for their half a watermelon. Then the cashier has no sooner given them their change that they start scanning your stuff with a grumpy 'hola', which would be great if the person before you had packed their stuff into bags and gone, but this is an unknown concept in Spain. So you sort of have to shove them (or at the very least, their stuff) out off the way to get to your shopping, put it in a bag the British way, and if you're lucky you occasionally get the previous customer saying 'is that yours or mine?' And I think, well if you'd packed when you were supposed to, you'd know.
Anyhow. You get all your stuff in bags, you pay, you leave. And then you pop into another shop to have a nosey, some seemingly nice woman is there looking at the same thing as you and she says 'aren't these lovely' and you say 'indeed they are', which gives away the fact you're not Spanish. She says 'oh, you're Russian!' You reply 'oh no, I'm English'. Then she turns her nose up in the most literal manner known to man, and she says 'well your skin's the wrong colour to be English'.
The thing is, I would have found this quite funny if I still had a sense of humour and if she didn't mean it in a racist manner. Which she did (I guess you had to be there). It's something we've noticed up here... if you're anything other than 'Spanish-looking' some people give you the widest berth known to man. I say some because some people don't mind talking to us and love our hilarious approximation of a Spanish accent, but Suzy had to tell her life story to the woman in the post office before she'd give her her package, all because she's got an Egyptian last name on her passport. I've been into some shops, not said a word AT ALL, and the shop assistant has imediately not spoken in Spanish. Usually they go into English, but occasionally you get some random language because they assume you're from somewhere because of how you look. The only reason I mention it, is because I now appreciate just how well England has done by comparison. Of course there's still a long way to go, but actually, our little island has done a better job than Bilbao so far.
I'd not be as bothered if this hadn't followed a bit of a stressful week (hard to believe with two days off). We have another 5 page essay to hand in on Monday, but as the tutor doesn't set a specific day and just says 'you have 15 days' it gets awfully confusing. I mean, do bank holidays count? Do weekends? What if you don't have class on day 15?
Anyway, I will try to find something more fun to talk about next time. Has to be said, I'm a bit sick of being here now and am just at that stage where I can't even take the mickey out of my experiences because I don't find them funny anymore. The little things wear you down after a while. Still, normal Lucy-Cakes blogging should resume soon. I should certainly have had a cup of tea before writing this, it would have turned out differently! In the meantime, if you find my sense of humour, please send it back.
I have discovered that there is nothing quite like a Spanish supermarket. On the face of it, it looks like an English one, although it does tend to smell slightly more of fish and meat, due to the thousand dead carcasses they have at the back of the shop for adventurous people who don't want their chicken pre-packaged. It's when you get to the checkout that things get exciting. Who says the Spanish don't know how to queue? There is ALWAYS a queue. And none of the 'there are ten people waiting, maybe we should open another till'. Ho no. So you wait. And wait. And wait. You finally get your shopping on the belt, then you have to wait again because the person in front of you didn't realise they had to weigh and print off a label for their half a watermelon. Then the cashier has no sooner given them their change that they start scanning your stuff with a grumpy 'hola', which would be great if the person before you had packed their stuff into bags and gone, but this is an unknown concept in Spain. So you sort of have to shove them (or at the very least, their stuff) out off the way to get to your shopping, put it in a bag the British way, and if you're lucky you occasionally get the previous customer saying 'is that yours or mine?' And I think, well if you'd packed when you were supposed to, you'd know.
Anyhow. You get all your stuff in bags, you pay, you leave. And then you pop into another shop to have a nosey, some seemingly nice woman is there looking at the same thing as you and she says 'aren't these lovely' and you say 'indeed they are', which gives away the fact you're not Spanish. She says 'oh, you're Russian!' You reply 'oh no, I'm English'. Then she turns her nose up in the most literal manner known to man, and she says 'well your skin's the wrong colour to be English'.
The thing is, I would have found this quite funny if I still had a sense of humour and if she didn't mean it in a racist manner. Which she did (I guess you had to be there). It's something we've noticed up here... if you're anything other than 'Spanish-looking' some people give you the widest berth known to man. I say some because some people don't mind talking to us and love our hilarious approximation of a Spanish accent, but Suzy had to tell her life story to the woman in the post office before she'd give her her package, all because she's got an Egyptian last name on her passport. I've been into some shops, not said a word AT ALL, and the shop assistant has imediately not spoken in Spanish. Usually they go into English, but occasionally you get some random language because they assume you're from somewhere because of how you look. The only reason I mention it, is because I now appreciate just how well England has done by comparison. Of course there's still a long way to go, but actually, our little island has done a better job than Bilbao so far.
I'd not be as bothered if this hadn't followed a bit of a stressful week (hard to believe with two days off). We have another 5 page essay to hand in on Monday, but as the tutor doesn't set a specific day and just says 'you have 15 days' it gets awfully confusing. I mean, do bank holidays count? Do weekends? What if you don't have class on day 15?
Anyway, I will try to find something more fun to talk about next time. Has to be said, I'm a bit sick of being here now and am just at that stage where I can't even take the mickey out of my experiences because I don't find them funny anymore. The little things wear you down after a while. Still, normal Lucy-Cakes blogging should resume soon. I should certainly have had a cup of tea before writing this, it would have turned out differently! In the meantime, if you find my sense of humour, please send it back.
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