Hola, amigos.

Some people went horseback riding in the mountains this past weekend, but I stayed in Ávila to have some time to myself. It was a fairly peaceful weekend. Well, sort of. There was another fiesta at Nuestra Señora de las Vacas. They’re always fiesta-ing over there.

Sunday morning I woke up to music, bells, and fireworks, and went out on the balcony to see the Virgin go by again:

(That’s Carmen, la señora, on the other balcony.)

On Saturday there was also La Ronda de las Leyendas, reenactments of various legends of Ávila. We went to see the legend of “La Mora con los ojos traidos”… the moor with the traitor eyes?

The princess falls in love with an Arabic soldier, pines away for him… etc, etc. He and her husband have a duel, but the husband pardons the soldier’s life. The soldier makes a plot to kill him, which the husband finds out, and then both the traitorous princess and her lover die in a fire. Pretty much all the elements of an exciting story.

(Death by fire… a good end to any story.)

After the Ronda, we stayed out until 6am with our professor, shlepping aroudn town and dancing, which was interesting. Even more interesting was the bar where we looked up at the tv and started freaking out, because there was definitely porn playing. Not just porn… instructional porn? It’s a European thing, I guess. The bartender was kind enough to change it to something more low-key. (Fútbol?) He was a cheeseball. That’s him on the left. The other cheeseball is a friend of our profesor’s.

(You probably can’t see it, but his shirt has a cow that is a mug of beer, saying “Eat yer heart out, Arthur.” No one knew what it meant. There are no shirts with Spanish on them here… just English. Not always logical, but always English. Anna and I saw one at the mall that said “IS THE ROCK FUN?!”

Yes, yes it is.

I’ve been trying to read as much as possible in Spanish… since I’m in Spain and all. The room I’m staying in has an entire shelf of books, mostly a very impressive collection of Gabriel Garcia Márquez. Last week I finished El Amor en los Años de Colera. I’ve read it twice in English, which helped when the vocabulary got murky. I brought another Márquez book, Los Ojos de Perro Azul, which was the only Spanish edition I found back in Ypsi (at the Cross Street Bookstore, which is one of my favorite places ever), but I haven’t started that yet.

Last night I finished Las Cenizas de Ángela (Angela’s Ashes), and I liked it so much that I’m starting Lo Es (‘Tis) now, both by Frank McCourt. I started reading an English copy of Angela’s Ashes at the library to get a feel for McCourt’s style, before continuing with the Spanish at home. I have a feeling that I’ll have to reread both later, in English, because some things (especially colloquial Irish phrases) just don’t come through in the translation. For example, “pedo de violinista” isn’t the same as “fiddler’s fart”. It just isn’t.

In other news, my classmates and I have been giving presentations in our Communication class about the cities we’re from. Clare and I gave one about Ypsi (I couldn’t think of enough about Maybee to give a presentation. At least Ypsi has crime and the Brick Dick.)

Please note my superior map drawing skills, and also the Brick Dick. Javier asked if we had any famous monuments, so we tried to describe it as politely as possible, and then I had to draw a pictures.

And tiquismiquis means “nit-picky”… we were talking about Ann Arbor yuppies. 🙂

Tomorrow I’m going to Madrid and to the Prado; I’m excited. But for now time is running out, amigos. Hasta luego.


2 Responses to Tiquismiquis

  1. Ashesbear says:

    Please get me that shirt.

  2. saracita says:

    I think I’m going to get that shirt. oooooh.

    (Let’s get some shoes. Let’s party.)

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