¡Hola a todas y a todos!
So my first week here in Almansa is coming to a close, and so far, the experience has been everything I could have asked for and more. More details on Almansa itself to come below.
First, let me tell you about the adventure I had simply to arrive in Spain. I left Dulles airport at 5:30 pm on Sunday, September 19th and arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris at approximately 6:30 am after a flight where I had red wine spilled all down my left leg. It definitely was not worth getting worked up over, and fortunately I was wearing dark jeans instead of that pair of white linen pants that I do not actually own. I ended up having a nice conversation with the woman who was going to Paris on a trip for the organization she works for. Anyway, so I arrived at 6:30 am in Paris and actually had to change airports. I took the bus to Orly, where I arrived at 10:00 am... and had to wait until 9:55 pm for my flight to Valencia. I ended up buying a day’s worth of internet access (I mean, what’s more valuable: 10€ or my sanity?). And I was also able to nap in the airport and get myself adjusted to the time difference, so it definitely wasn’t a day completely wasted. I finally arrived in Valencia around 11:30 pm and took a taxi to my friend Margaux’s apartment downtown.
Margaux is doing a program quite similar to mine, but it’s through the Fulbright program. She lives in a nice piso with three other girls from her program, all of whom are lovely people. I spent six days in Valencia with them until Sunday the 26th.
Valencia’s a really beautiful city. It’s on the coast, so I was able to spend two days basking in the sun so I could renew my tan for the last time this season. How funny that my tan both started and ended in Spain (in May on Mallorca and now in Valencia). There’s also a lot of history in Valencia, which goes all the way from the Roman times to the present. The different architecture reflects this wide range of eras. There are Roman ruins, medieval cathedrals, the modernist Mercat Central, and the über-contemporary Ciudad de las Artes et la Ciencias.
Anyway, that’s enough about Valencia because I have so much to tell about Almansa. This town of about 26,000 is much larger than I had expected. Yes, it’s small and quaint, but it’s not miniscule and there are definitely more than four stoplights. Although I can walk from one end to the other in a short 25 minutes, there’s still that hustle and bustle of something larger than a village. What does make it seem like a small, tight-knit community is the fact that everybody knows everybody. And that’s something that I think is so cool. Running into someone I just met twice in one day just goes to show how small it actually is.
So, before coming to Spain, I’d sent a message to a couple people on Couchsurfing.com, which is an online community where people from all over the world have profiles and offer their couches to travelers. The idea behind it is not to be just a free place to crash, but also to be a cultural exchange and to meet new people from all over the globe. I’d couchsurfed with Margaux when we went to Switzerland in April, and it was a really great experience. This time, however, I did not send couch requests; I didn’t want to impose on anybody after just arriving, as I would have all my stuff and would be really stressed with everything I had to do. I just sent out messages so that I could introduce myself and basically find myself some friends. I got one response, and it was from a well-travelled and quite experienced couchsurfer named Óscar, who in fact offered to let me stay at his apartment with him and his boyfriend Miguel while I got myself oriented and found myself a place to live.
I arrived the evening of Sunday, September 26th and was warmly greeted at the train station by Óscar and his friend Antonio who then drove me (and all my luggage) back to Óscar’s place, where they had prepared the guest room for me. Óscar and Miguel have a gorgeous home, and they welcomed me into it as if I were a longtime friend. They are wonderful people, both teachers; Óscar teaches English (and his defending his doctoral dissertation next week) and Miguel teaches history (at my school, incidentally). For my first night there, they prepared a meal chock full of typically Spanish dishes, gazpacho and tortilla de patatas. We hit it off really well right from the bat, and they were incredibly helpful. They are funny and friendly, and we’ve got a lot in common. I am so lucky to have been able to contact them because now I feel like I’ve made a pair of good friends who will really animate my experience here in Almansa.
The day following my arrival, I went with each of them to their respective schools to check out all the “for rent” signs that were posted in the lobbies of the high schools. I jotted down probably about 40 phone numbers, and that afternoon I started making calls.
Woof. Talking on the phone in Spanish is not easy, let me tell you! I did manage to make a couple appointments to see some vacant apartments, and I contacted one person about an apartment that she wanted to share. I ended up seeing four apartments throughout the afternoon and early evening... and they became more and more depressing one after the next. They were all old and dingy and I hoped to God I wouldn’t have to end up finding myself in one of them. Óscar had warned me about what I was likely to encounter, but I really didn’t expect what I saw. After seeing the fourth piso of the day, I was on my way back to Óscar and Miguel’s when I got a phone call from the landlady of the shared apartment, who asked if I was free to come see it then. I figured “why not?” so I went to meet her.
And when that door opened, it was like the gates of heaven opened before my eyes. I was blown away, especially after having witnessed the dreadfulness of all the other apartments. The piso was completely redone with brand new IKEA furniture throughout, with three bedrooms, one and a half baths, and a fully equipped, granite countertopped kitchen. It was divine. There was no way I couldn’t take it. And there was even another room for the Australian assistant, Clare, whom I had met in Valencia and who was also going to be working in Almansa. And to top it all off, the young lady currently living there was a Spanish girl who was a maestra in a colegio in town, which would provide a perfect opportunity to speak Spanish. I arranged to come back with Clare the next day, when I would officially tell the landlady that I would take the room.
Speaking of Rosario, the landlady, she’s quite a character. Always accompanied by her son Manuel, she is an absolutely adorable, typically Spanish mother. She wants nothing more than to make sure that Clare and I are comfortable in our home, providing us with all sorts of kitchen supplies and two sets of sheets each.
And she doesn’t speak a word of English. Here’s something interesting I’ve learned about old people who have probably never learned a foreign language: when you say you don’t understand something (or give an equally obvious facial expression), instead of speaking more slowly and/or simply, they just shout at you. Rosario, for example, always checks to see if I’m following by yelling in my face, “¿¿ME ENTIENDES, HIJO?? ¿¿ME ENTIENDES??” to which I’ll either respond “yes, I understand you,” or laugh and shake my head. But it’s impossible to get frustrated at her lack of communication skills towards foreigners because she’s just so gosh-darn adorable and kind.
What’s so incredible is that everyone I’ve met here is as nice as Rosario, Miguel, and Óscar. I chatted it up with Carmen at the cell phone store. All the teachers I work with whom I’ve met have given me their phone numbers and told me not to hesitate to call them if I need anything at all. Even the neighbor next door offered to help Clare and me with anything we might need when we passed her in hallway. Just as many French people seem to fit their stereotype of being closed off at first (that is, until you break through their shell at which point they become friends for life), the Spanish have shown me that they fit their own stereotype: that they’re nothing less than warm, friendly, sociable, and welcoming, even if it’s the first time you meet them.
Oh, I forgot a crazy story!! So Clare came to town the day after I did, and she called me at about 10:00 pm the night she arrived. I asked where she was, to which she replied she wasn’t sure, only that she knew she was close to her school (which is in the same building as mine). I said that I was close to the school, too, and we realized that we could both see the castle from our windows. So I proposed the ridiculous idea of sticking out heads out the window and trying to find each other. It took come convincing to get her to do it, but eventually she did it... and she was IN THE APARTMENT NEXT DOOR. Small world, right? How crazy!! She was staying temporarily with a teacher from her school who had just moved into the apartment next door and who didn’t even know Óscar and Miguel. So nuts.
Anyway, so fast forward two days, and Clare and I both moved into our new, beautiful piso, but our third flatmate (whom we still hadn’t met) was not there because she was recovering from an operation at her parents’ house in her hometown of Hellín. She did sent me a message, though, that said she would be coming by to meet us. And at 6:00 pm, she came by with her parents. Her name is Beatriz, and like I mentioned before, she’s a teacher at one of the elementary/middle schools in town. She seems very nice, and I think everything’s going go go really well. Her parents were, once again, typically Spanish: incredibly friendly, open, warm, and talkative. Clare and I brought out our maps and showed them all where we were from. The seemed to be fascinated by the exoticness of both the US and Australia, and I’m looking forward to hopefully being able to tell them more about it. A little while later, they left again. Beatriz is still recuperating and should be coming back to the apartment within two weeks.
The only issue I have with this apartment is that it does not have internet, and I don’t think that obtaining it will be as simple as it was in France. Apparently you’re required to have a contract and have to pay ridiculous fees if you have to break it, even if you are leaving the country. So for the time being, I’m living internet-less in the apartment. I mean, I do get internet on my phone which doesn’t cost too much, but I can only do simple things like check my email and check my Facebook. I’m hoping to get friendly with other residents of my apartment building, at which point I will strategically mention how much I miss my family and friends, and how I can hardly speak to them because I don’t have internet access in my home... I’m thinking that will pull at a Spanish mother’s heartstrings and I’m hoping that someone will hand over their network password. But until then, I’ll be depending on my phone, the locutorio down the road, and on the computers at school. Don’t worry, I will make sure the whole world knows if and when I get internet access in my apartment.
Well, I suppose that’s enough for now. I had intended just to give you a little update, but it seems to have turned into a mini-novel. And now, after writing all this, I've created another blog. I know, I know... I was good with the one last year for about a month, and then it died. But the way things are going (and after looking at all I’ve just shared), it seems like I’m going to be really inspired to write.
Os quiero todos,
Larry
P.S. If anyone wants to be fun and send me snail mail, my address is:
Larry Komrower
av. José Rodriguez Ruano, 45
2º planta - puerta C
02640 Almansa
Albacete
España
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