Pulpo a Feria – oh my…

5am… I wake up like a shot; eyes peeled and covers seeming heavier than a ceiling pressing down on me. I geuss I had enough sleep due to the 4 hour siesta the day before. My favorite saying is “siesta y fiesta” because everyone who I say it too chuckles slightly, then nods fervently and proceeds to say something in spanish, which I nod too and say “si”.

5:30 laying in bed without the covers, decide it might be time to start trying browsing the internet. I geuss this is Jet Lag. insidious fucking feeling, knowing that the whole city is having a comfortable sleep and you are incapable of it. I kill time untill 7:30 with romantic notions of sauntering around town and trying cafe americanos at various barristas while watching people and pretending to read the newspaper.

Walking out the door, something immediately struck me as out of place. Nothing was open… at all.

I walk untill 8:00 and notice some cafes are OPENING… ie) the chairs are not outside yet, and they are sweeping inside.

I find a cheap cafe that doesn’t seem to serve food during the morning, only a coffee bar; proceed to order a cafe americano and sit down pretending to read the paper. Most people think I am italian or spanish and assume I speak fluently because I say almost nothing. There is no such thing as artificial sweetener here, so I am forced to use a packet of sugar. I eat the small amaretto bellini cookie that comes with the 1.3 euro coffee ( about $1.95) not overly expensive.

I then walked to the next place and having perfected practicing I was reading the paper, decided to apply my skills to completely deceive this particular barrista into thinking I was Spanish. It was fun being completely incognito, sitting at the coffee bar surrounded by locals, no one the wiser than I was actually a spy from Canada, inspecting the quality of their morning ritual.

I have come to the realization that the Spanish draw their energy in the morning from sugar in the coffee, the small croissant or cookie, and contemplation. No wonder no one is awake until 9:30.

School today was basically lots of waiting around. We arrived at 9:30 to be shuffled off to a room to take a placement test to determine our spanish level. I got put in a group of 4 people that knew absolutely nothing. I am very pleased that I get to be in the retard group. The group consists of a Japanese dude from vancouver, a talkative flustered seeming girl from UBC: Okanagan, who has a terrible spanish accent, myself, and a famous actress from Palestine, Yasmine Elmasri, who lives in Paris and just finished co-starring in the movie Miral, with Willem Dafoe and that chick from slumdog millionaire.

Plot A chronicle of Hind Husseini‘s effort to establish an orphanage in Jerusalem after the 1948 partition of Palestine and the creation of the state of Israel.

Jerusalem, 1948. On her way to work, Hind Husseini, (Hiam Abbass) comes across 55 orphaned children in the street. She takes them home to give them food and shelter. Within six months, 55 had grown to almost 2000, and the Dar Al-Tifel Institute was born.

So to summarize, we got a jew, a palistinian refugee, a vancouver japanese, and an irish catholic in our beginner class.

I ended up having a 2+ hour conversation with Yasmine about american exo-politics over some more coffee, and the warmongering state of the world. I think I recognize her from the movie Caramel.

Speaking of caramel I just now realized I have 5 cups of coffee today, all with real sugar in them… fuck

I tried Pulpo a Feria today – the local dish of octopus and paprika. I don’t think it is meant to be eaten alone. I couldn’t finish it because I was starting to feel really twisted inside, like my stomach was trying to punch me in the head for being an idiot.

This is the type of dish you SHARE with FRIENDS while DRUNK.

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