Guiris,

Buenas tardes. I just ate enough to feed a family of Siberian tigers, and I know this because I watch the Spanish equivalent of animal planet with my adopted mom, Ines. We also watch what I call "Spanish Jeopardy" and "Spanish Wayans Bros.", and sometimes, "Spanish Disney-Channel Show". There's also a bizarre series where grown men do 4th grade science projects and interview famous people. Will Smith was on the other day, who, so I've learned, is a prized actor among Spaniards. I think myself the prized neighborhood guiri (foreigner) by virtue of association (we're both from Philadelphia).

That said, I'm here in Granada after a grueling 5 hour trip last week (2 weeks ago?), and I'm making myself at home. The city sits just at the foot of the Sierra Nevadas, and my school overlooks the Alhambra. I'm living with Ines and her daughter Elena, who has been in Berlin and upon her return, I found myself suffering from only child syndrome. Fortunately, she's very very cool and I'm quite over the fact that Ines is her mother and not mine (really). They've both been wonderful in showing me Granada and Ines cooks a traditional Spanish meal for me every day, which is much more than I could ask for. That said, I only go out for ethnic food, pizza and Moroccan tea. The age old question can rest--yes, all you need is good food to be happy. 

My typical schedule starts with school from either 9-12 or 9-2:30 (alternating every day), and I go home for siesta (feast followed by nap) at 3. Between 4:30 and 9 is playtime and we eat dinner around 9:30 or 10:00. On weekends, Spaniards go out around 11 or 12 for tapas, which are basically free meals that come with your purchased drink, and they hit the discotecas around 2-3 (to stay out until morning). Us Americans have yet to acclimate to this schedule- I don't think most of us have made it past 3.

Cultural activities are also a very normal component of the day. Last night, we went out for dinner and flamenco and tonight, we're going to see Federico Garcia Llorca's play, "Bodas de Sangre". Speaking of Spanish, I am happy to say I have been mistaken several times for being able to speak Spanish. Understanding Spanish is very dependent on who's speaking. Andalusians have some of the most incomprehensible accents (lisping their c's, dropping s's off of every word) and they speak ridiculously fast. Fortunately, I'm adjusting relatively quickly, the result of hearing so much every day. 

Next week, I'm presenting a project proposal to Granada Acoge, an organization that works with immigrants to Granada, to teach a group of kids some form of elementary photography. This would combine everything I want to do here (work with kids, work with excluded minorities, work with photography) and would give me an opportunity to speak with people (children) who probably have worse grammar than I do. Still, it feels slightly impossible, given that I've never taught a group of 20 kids anything in English. If I can't teach, I'm hoping they'll at least let me play with them. 

I feel myself quickly integrating with the warm culture here. People are easy to speak to and love to strike up conversations with strangers. I'm also "suffering" with them, as the bus workers are on strike (La Huelga) and what should be a 20 minute bus trip to school sometimes takes an hour and a half (while the workers take a smoke). The strike or manefestacion of the strike actually happens right in front in my apartment complex every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It's really wonderful to see the community's support for the men and women on strike, despite that they have to arrive late to work 3 times a week.

So...that's all and a lot for now. I have to leave this tea house as it's getting packed and I've only spent 2 bucks here.