Granada was the place to be this weekend. It’s dangerous, really, that one can purchase an entire box of wine for 55 centimos at any given convenience store, but what may be even more dangerous is purchasing a questionable assortment of gummy candies and finding a little red gummy of a masturbating child among the strawberries, raspberries, teeth, and devil-shaped gummies. Yes, you read that correctly. This gummy was of a little boy clutching his penis. Spain, what the hell—what happened to your CATHOLICISM? Aren’t Catholics not supposed to masturbate? (Or is it just frowned upon? I don't know. I'm no where near being Catholic.) Either way, these gummies are promoting SIN! The assortment came in a plain plastic bag—no label, no nutrition facts—so I have NO IDEA where it came from. I saved it.
Friday entailed accidently getting drunk (alone) in the corner of an eight year old girl’s birthday party. I think Pepita’s son-in-law felt sorry for me since I was the awkward twenty-something American among all of the Spanish children eating cake and their parents casually conversing/ignoring me, so he kept giving me good ol’ Alhambra cerveza. Or, as the Spanish would say, thhhervethha.
Went hiking (Spanish vocabulary word of the day: Senderismo) in a nearby pueblo, Monachil, on Saturday. The bus driver was a complete dick, so things started out a little shaky, but we found the hiking trails soon enough, and spent the day marveling at the Earth. Granada, albeit a small one, is still a city, and the cars and buildings and people and lack of grass and trees were making me anxious. Ahh, mountain air! Fresh grass! Altitude! Back sweat! Most of all: MOUNTAIN HAY PUPPIES. As soon as we started walking toward the main trail, three puppies jumped out of a haystack and gathered at our feet. Que preciosa.
|One of thirteen Bocadillo pictures|
The Romeria of Sacramonte was on Sunday, and neither I nor any of my peers knew what it was or what to do with ourselves there (turns out its a pilgrimage/celebration of some Saint whose name I can't remember), so we arrived a little late for free paella. There was Flamenco, sunshine, salty bread, all on the mountainside near the gypsy caves. Unfortunately the only pictures I took all day were of Maura eating a bocadillo.