Suerte in Action

Recently I had a conversation with a friend of mine about luck, karma, and other hocus-pocusy superstitions.  Although I can’t really say why, some part of me has always believed in this stuff.  At least a little bit. I mean just check the name of this blog. I don’t believe in psychics or mind-readers or that aliens have already invaded the earth, but fate, good booga-booga , etc., these sorta things just seem to be around us. 

Not too long ago, I went to Granada for some Spanish holiday called a puente (Memo to Self: look up Puente) and found not only a great time and amazing tapas, but also a little more evidence (for lack of a better word) for these kinda supernatural things.

Luck

Over the years I've developed a pretty wicked internal alarm clock and I normally wake up about 3 minutes before my alarm goes off. I think it's my body's irrational way of giving the middle finger to a device that is designed to interrupt slumber. Like saying "Gonna try to walk me up? Screw you, alarm. Already awake." That being said, alcohol does tend to hit my biological snooze button. So going out until 6 am the night before I had a 10:30 bus ride was probably not the best idea. Needless to say when my travel buddy, Phoebe, called me at 9:20 am I was not packed, not dressed, and not awake. Things did not look good. But then the metro was waiting for me when I ran into the station and when I arrived at 10:29 at the bus station, which was crowded with over 60 buses, something pulled me straight to the bus to Granada. And that lovely, lucky bus took me here...

GRANADA!

Good Karma

The idea that what goes around comes around is an intriguing one. Even the littlest good deed can pay off and vice versa. I firmly believe that in Granada, the main source of good karma is the tapas. All of Spain is known for tapas, or the small servings of food that come for free with a drink purchase at a bar. In Granada they up their game; you get full freaking meals. For 5 euros you get all that you see below...

 

And sending these tasty vibes out into the universe shows in Granada. The people are happy, nice, surrounded daily by beauty. Not to mention well fed.

Bad Karma

Our second day in Granada I noticed this...

That's the Bank of Spain with the word "Ladrones" spray-painted on the front. Ladrones means thieves. Just goes to show that in any culture if you screw people over enough they'll get pissed and it'll come back to bite you in the form of graffiti and large public protests.

Jinx

A mix of modern design and Arabic buildings, Granada is absolutely breath taking. And it's crown jewel is the Alhambra. Originally a palace and fortress for Arabic Sultans, construction on the Alhambra began around 1237. And despite being about 800 years old, the entirety of the ginormous complex is still amazingly well preserved. Phoebe and I spent 5 hours walking around and taking in the architecture...

the views...

 

and the gardens...

 (you know just a stairway with waterfall railings)

Every corner I turned I said something along the lines of "I can't believe everything here is so fabulous. This city and trip is amazing."

Unfortunately in a 13th century stone palace there's very little wood to knock on. 

The original Granada travel plan was to stay 2 nights in a hostel and then save money by spending the final night dancing away in a club and catching the first bus back to Madrid. We had worked things out with the hostel so that we could leave our luggage at the hostel until the morning we had to leave. The only catch was that we needed our key to get back into the hostel that early for our luggage.

And of course I lost the key, foiling our glorious plan. 

Everything Happens for a Reason

So Phoebe "The Awesome Aussie" and I woke up on Saturday and realize we have no where to put our luggage, no where to stay, and no money to go clubbing all night. Plus I'm uber-pissed at myself for losing the key and our 10 euro key deposit. Stressed and exhausted, we consider our options. And then we just look at each other and know: it's time to leave Granada. As great as the city is I'm fairly certain that if we'd tried to stay out all night, with out luggage, until the 7am bus, we would have died. I'm sure it would have been an interesting death, but still not the ending we were going for.

Destiny/Fate

After changing our bus tickets (it only cost us 1.30 euro), Phoebe and I are looking for a way to fill our last few hours in this wonderful city. So while looking at the map we found it: Plaza de los Lobos. But I've gotten ahead of myself.

In those tense moments before I arrived at the bus station, Phoebe was convinced that I wasn't going to make it and that she'd have to go to Granada alone. The direct quote was "I was ready to lone wolf it up." This of course prompted a conversation about how we were two lone wolves that had found each other and formed an awesome pack (thank you Alan from the Hangover). So the joke became that we were a wolf pack on the prowl in Granada. For those of you that don't know lobo is wolf in Spanish. So it was fate, it was destiny, that our wolf pack should come to Granada and head to the Plaza de los Lobos and that said plaza should be covered with graffiti like this... 

Too Much of A Good Thing
Granada, you're freaking insane and I loved every minute of you. But there's a price for such awesomeness and for me it was a horrible cold. I've been all snot and sneezes since the bus pulled back into Madrid (TMI, I know) But I guess there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

K Learns Spanish: Lesson 11

granada- pomegranate. Ironically didn't see a single one on the trip.

cazar- to hunt as in La banda de las lobas esta cazando. Siempre.

destino- destiny, fate

boogabooga- there is no direct translation into Spanish

Beer and Telemarketers

This past week I learned two very important ways to bridge interpersonal gaps: beer and telemarketers. Of course a large portion of my own belief system is based on the love and power of the former so this one was not a huge surprise. But the idea that telemarketers could bring people together seemed a little far fetched. Until this week.

So here's the story. For those of you that don't know I tutor two little Spanish darlings. They're a boy and a girl, five and seven years old respectively, and I tutor them in English one and a half hours twice a week. Although their parents speak English, they have strong Spanish accents and therefore their main concern for their kids is that they learn early and learn the proper pronunciation. From the best intentions... Needless to say it is very difficult to keep two kids engaged for 90 minutes at night while only speaking to them in a language they don't understand.

One day the little boy left the room for a minute and when his dad brought him back, he started sniffling and said in Spanish "But Papa I don't want to go back in there. I can't understand her. All she says is blah blah blah." Stern and well meaning their dad laid down the law and said that they were not allowed to speak unless it was in English or to ask me how to say something in English. Yeah, that went over well.

It's been over two months now and I think the kids are making really progress, but for a while there I was really concerned that the dad would fire me if his kids weren't speaking fluently by New Years. He just didn't seem to like me or the work that I was doing. So when he called me this week the day before my next tutoring session, I was sure he was going to can me. But instead he asked if I could help him with his English; he had an interview coming up and was out of practice. I said yes and feeling very stressed out about his expectations for the sessions, went to go tutor him.

The first day beer saved me. No, he didn't offer me a cold one and no, I wasn't wasted before I got there. We simply talked about his past work experience and it turns out that he used to work for a division of Coors here in Spain. Since I spent the last year working with reps from different beer distributors, we had a lot to talk about. And I was actually able to help him with the correct English terminology for the business.

On the second day I was only slightly nervous. I arrived at their apartment and listened to him talk about his past jobs and such. Despite the fact that he spoke fairly impeccably, I couldn't seem to get him to relax and the more flustered he got the more mistakes he made.

Cue the Telemarketer. In the middle of our session he got a phone call from Jazztel, a telephone company in Spain. After hanging up he came in and told me how much he hated those calls. Then I told him how my father did as well, but also liked to mess with the callers. I shared with him this typical conversation between my father and a telemarketer.

TM: Is Mr. or Mrs. Klambert home?

sidenote: Our last name is Klempert.

Dad:It's pronounced Klem-paire. We're French.

sidenote: We're not French.

TM: Hello, Mr. Klambert. My name is Karen and I'm called from (insert random company here). Do you have a few moments to talk about some of our exciting new offers?

Dad: Well the Dolphins game isn't on for another 15 mins so sure.

Then Karen will try and sell my dad something while he asks her what time it is in India, what the weather's like, her education, her life history. You know common telemarketer chit chat. His main goal is often to find out the callers real name, which of course they're forbidden to say. He's only managed it once.

This made the Spanish dad I work for bust a gut. Apparently he enjoys the similar games, when he has time. Most of their family accounts are in his wife's name so when they call and ask for Ana he'll say in a deep, raspy baritone, "Sí, soy Ana." Then he'll make up outrageous claims about his current long distance plan, like that they pay 3 euros a month for unlimited calls to anywhere in the universe. This leaves the Telemarketer with the awkward choice of calling him a liar or giving up the sale.

He was surprised that our calls come from India (the calls to Spain often come from Morocco and the callers claimed to be named Carlos or Juan) but it prompted a good bonding conversation. So I'd like to thank all the Karens and Carloses (Carli?) out there for possibly saving my job by choosing to have a universally annoying one.


K Learns Spanish: Lesson 10 


clases particlulares- tutoring sessions. 

crecer- to grow. As in La niña está creciendo a pesar de bebiendo mucho cafe. 

dejar- to leave (as in leave alone), to separate from or keep away from, to give up, to let (as in let the people get off the train before you get on the train). In general this word is pops up a lot and I always use it wrong. 

regla- rule. As in Para cada regla, hay una excepción. Incluyendo la regla de los bigotes.