Cricket, Salsa and Horse Feces

Before coming to Spain, I had mental list of things of things I would probably end up doing here: salsa dancing, having wine and tapas, going to the beach, etc.  Beach cricket did not make the list.  My boss, Rodrigo, plays cricket on the beach with some English guys he knows from living in Manchester.  Yesterday I met them there because I'd never seen cricket before and was curious to know how it lived up to baseball.  Having little athletic ability and no cricket experience, I figured they would make me bat once or twice and then leave me in peace to watch the game.  Oh how wrong I was.  Within 20 minutes of arriving I was showing off my best stumbling and ball-dropping skills in the outfield (do you call it an outfield in cricket?), busily trying not to hit anyone with the bat and praying that the ball I was pitching kept going in the direction of the batter.  Thankfully, no one was hurt as a result of me attempting sports, though I did manage to knock a guy's beer out of his hand while I was pitching.

Still, it was a great time.  It's hard to complain when you can play sports on the beach in November with a cold beer in your hand.  (The only real rule these guys have is that you have to have your beer with you at all times on the field.  I'd like to blame that for my lack of coordination, but who am I kidding?)

I made a fool of myself in a more "Spanish" way the night before by going salsa dancing with some friends.  Nothing like trying to dance salsa in a room full of Cubans to remind you that you're a gangly Minnesotan.  My roommate and I went back tonight for a free lesson, and we're going again on Thursday.  I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment.

School is still going well, with a few hitches.  One morning last week the professor of the Care of Horses class handed me the packet we were going to be working on that day.  I said thanks, walked away and started flipping through the packet.  The first page was innocent enough--basic horse anatomy terms in English.  The second page put those terms to serious work in several detailed paragraphs about the defecation and sexual behavior of hoses.  Let me just say that I'm five years old and almost burst out laughing as I explained how horses spread their feces to a class of teenagers.  (Mares spread it out and stallions consistently deposit it in the same spot, in case you were curious.)

Small success: I finally learned the names of the students in the bilingual class.  These are the 11- and 12-year-olds that I see every day, so it was getting pretty awkward calling them "hey you," "mouth breather" and "kid who sits in the back and resembles a bear."

Now, I know what you're thinking: "You've been at that school for almost a month and a half, and you've only now learned their names?" Yes, it's sad, but in my defense all their names sound the same.  There are three Diegos, three Marías, two Carmens and two Ana Beléns.  From there, it starts to get complicated.  You've got José Miguel, José Antonio, Antonio, José María, Juan Carlos, Juan José, Jorge and a couple of Alejandros thrown in just for fun. 

Do you ever get the feeling that God is laughing at you?

A couple of other events to sum up the past few weeks:


Last week I went to a ham and paella party on a mountain in Málaga.  It was awesome; we spent the day cooking paella on an open flame and Spanish ham, which is sold on the leg with the foot still attached; you can see rows of them hanging from the ceiling at the grocery store. 


I also picked up some tutoring students.  They're fantastic and it means I've got some extra cash coming in.  Last week I used the cash to go to Ronda, a beautiful town about an hour away from Málaga.  My favorite part was the ancient mine that winds down to the bottom of a giant gorge.

Aside from that there's not too much to report.  I spend a lot of my time running errands, hanging out with friends, preparing for lessons, reading and watching random TV shows on you tube.  Yessir, It's a glamorous life in Europe.  I recently discovered Asterix y Obelix, an old French cartoon dubbed in Spanish.  When I'm feeling ambitious I go for a run to the beach or the Castle of Gibralfaro.

Well, thanks to you die-hards who made it all the way to the end of this post.  I hope to hear from you soon!