The title of this post is the best quote of the many memorable ones from the Cincomarzarda festivities Saturday. More on that later. I want to talk about how amazingly beautiful the Pyrenees are first. They definitely elicited a stronger reaction from me than either of the beaches I have seen so far. I don't even care that it's even more frigid there, I would definitely live there. I wonder if the Rockies are as grand, because I would much rather actually live somewhere English-speaking. Unless the Rosetta Stone that I will be purchasing upon my return to the States helps my Spanish A LOT. I feel like simply being around all the Spanish is not really helping because, as I've said before, I am not an auditory learner. I find myself zoning out of group conversations when the pace becomes too fast for me, and it's frustrating. Lots of smiling and nodding, which means I rarely know what is going on. I don't know why I just assumed that people in Spain all speak perfect English. It's not that I don't want to learn, but it's easier when people can explain things in English. For example, the definitions in the dictionaries in my Spanish class are in SPANISH! If I don't know what one word means, then how the hell am I supposed to know what the synonyms mean?
Apart from the negativity stemming from my language inadequacy, I had a great time. They don't even need snow blowers for the slopes here; it's all natural powder. I was really happy about this because I was using borrowed, too-long skis, and thus did not need ice patches to further complicate matters. After warming up on the lower slopes and watching my friend's progress at a beginner's pace, I ventured up to the more difficult 'pistas.' My friends said later that I am an adrenalina junkie, ha.
After a brief siesta, we got ready for a night out. Cincomarzada is a bit like halloween, in that people wear costumes, only I think there was a higher concentration of religious-themed outfits. Hence my picture with the 'Pope':
We drank cider and wine and tried lots of tapas, and the fried shrimp with 'special sauce' was the best. I will eat most anything as long as I don't have to look at it, and so I had to draw the line at the squid when the tentacles squirted out. Typically American, I prefer my food to be unrecognizable, or at least not staring at me. I ate rabbit paella in Valencia, but then I saw whole skinned rabbits at the market and that was the end of that.
Felt pretty down yesterday, but mostly because of all of the rapid-fire spanish conversations I was forced to endure in silence. The worst was the chocolate shop owner who was desperately trying to explain to me something radio-related, I think a contest involving the U.S. It helps if I understand a concept in English, but I know nothing about the radio business. *Blank stare* *Blank stare* *Blink blink blink*
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