I'm broke. Because my wallet was deftly snatched from my purse. I've drawn this conclusion because I can't think of another logical explanation for how my wallet went missing between the two minutes I made my purchase at the
supermercado and the moment of realization that my bag felt significantly lighter on the way back home. Hurried back to the store, asked the cashier if she had seen my "
no sé cómo se llama en español pero tenía todo mi dinero y tarjetas" (this later I realized was bad, too literally-translated Spanish, but what I was trying to communicate was: "I don't know what it's called in Spanish, but it had all my money and cards") looked around and
nada, nothing. So then, I was left with these coins I had ironically left in my pocket:
Thirty minutes later and I've contacted my credit card companies and banks, asked for a 50 euro loan from the deposit I paid my flatmate and
ya, end of story. Although I was contemplating exaggerating a few details and embellishing the storyline to create a more artificially dramatic emotional scene, aside from the 100 euros worth of cash/bus cards I've lost -- and my photographic keepsake of my sister and I at Target, which thinking about tugs at my heart (sort of) -- it shall remain a minor hiccup throughout my experience in Sevilla. I'm approaching the incident from the "blessing in disguise" angle, as no longer having access to my American accounts will force me to live off of the money I earn from my private lessons for the rest of February -
un reto nuevo, a new challenge.
What will be worth remembering and regarded as a significant experience, are moments such as these:
Witnessing the Seahawks' Superbowl trouncing in freaking
Granada out of all places (with another Seattlelite, too!). Now, this bar (pictured below) will be forever known to me as the Irish sports bar in Granada where I watched Seattle win their first Super Bowl:
Also, the intercambios I've started with a few different Spanish locals, meeting some freaking cool Europeans on a few different occasions and daily stuff like that is how I plan to find meaning during my time here. On my trip to Granada last weekend, I found that I enjoyed myself much more going on aimless strolls in the
Albacín and meeting my friend's Spanish flatmates and visiting their favorite
tapas spots than going to the big tourist attractions like the
Alhambra; basic things that gave me a sense of the local culture and everyday life. I like to keep it real like that, yo (I wonder what the expression for "keeping it real" is in Spanish?).
Granada is definitely a picture-taking-worthy city, though; it is absolutely breathtaking. It's just I've been really lazy and bad at taking pictures. Here's one that I took from a
mirador (viewpoint) of (part of) the
Alhambra with the
Sierra Nevada in the background:
But I understand that visual materials can enhance the emotional impact of written products, so, if only for the sake and popularity of my blog posts, I will start making a greater effort to stow my camera into my bag and whip it out on occasion to snap a few pics. So my devoted readers can get a better
picture of my life here. Har har har ...
Here's to lazy Sundays -
viva los domingos ociosos.
