I officially realized that I have been extremely spoiled as I ran along the beach yesterday afternoon, completely unfazed by the familiar sticky, salty breeze in my hair as we ran towards the old part of town. Furthermore, the graceful, weathered structures that encircled the inland area were all too commonplace to me as well. Nevertheless, as my friend and I ran back home with the sun setting on our backs, I came upon the realization that this place is not all that different from my home, and there are certainly worst places one can spend a summer. I suppose that night was when I first began to get un sabor de España.
After receiving a chuckle at the sight of our flushed faces, our host “mother”, Antonia, directed us to the couch, where a small table was laden with tortilla Española (I think that’s spelled correctly), which is like a quiche of sorts made from potatoes, cheese, and I’m not entirely sure what else, and the television was set to House, in Spanish of course. I proceeded to devour half of one tortilla, amidst the discussion of sangre and el corazón from the TV. I think that once Antonia quit worrying about trying to Americanize our meals, things started to get much, much better. The gray meat and hamburgers were promptly replaced with fish and the delicious tortilla, and although we still ate at 11:00 p.m., it was well worth waiting for.
Today, we had normal morning classes, along with an afternoon session. At 18:00, we went back to the school for a tour of the old town. We rode a bus back across to where we had run yesterday, and explored the plazas for a couple hours with Marta, one of our teachers who lives here in Cádiz. After winding through narrow, twisting street laced with crooked cobblestones, we somehow popped out at a bar, where Dr. Labarca, our professor from Tech, was waiting for us. We then had what she called “solamente una merienda,” but the rest of us counted as dinner. We each got two bocadillos, or little sandwiches on a roll. I’m not sure why, but everything tastes better on a tiny French bread. I had a smoked salmon and, none other than my new favorite food, tortilla, on the bocadillos. Luckily, I could recognize the fillings in mine, because it turned out that another one had liver and jelly in it. We had a very dry vino tinto (red wine) to go with our bocadillos, and afterwards, were free to meander through the rest of the city.
The maze of old streets proved quite challenging for us talented engineers, none of whom could make neither heads nor tails of la mapa. After mapping out several more restaurants and bars in the old town, we finally began the 45 minute walk back home. With the rhythmic waves keeping time, the walk seemed to fly by. We were soon at the bottom of the six flights to the apartment. Tomorrow, my class meets in the old town…a 45 minute walk once again. 7 a.m. is going to be here all too soon, so for now, İhasta luego!
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