Typical Day in Granada

I feel a bit like a member of a rock band or some other group that has a demanding schedule that someone else plans. Life in an organized travel course is best described as "hurry up and wait." One moment we are meeting at the crack of dawn to jump on a bus to another city and the next we have a completely free weekend. You could catch us huffing and puffing through the Alhambra, or enjoying a six-hour afternoon break. I like it, except for the down time when I eat too much gelato. Wait, I like that part, too.
My weekday schedule looks something like:
8:30am- Force body out of bed. Curse myself for Facebooking into the wee hours.
9- Yogurt, corn flakes, fruit and tea for breakfast. The small, wide, bright yellow platanos are sweeter than the Costa Rican bananas we get in the States. The ones here are more reminiscent of someplace tropical rather than Boston.
9:30- First class starts, in theory. Punctuality does not seem to be of the essence here. Prof. Carlos Gustavo, our wacky and comical grammar teacher, has us laughing approximately 60% of the class with jokes about how his English is just not "sexy." He finds humor in watching our facial expressions as we react to the melody of strange sounds pouring through the open window facing the street. Crying dogs, rumbling construction, people shouting, and cars fighting motorcycles in a horn-blowing war are typical accompaniements to the daily lesson. Thankfully, Prof. Gustavo calmly reassures us that "estais en Espana," which describes so much.
10:30- Half an hour break (more or less) between classes. I resist the urge to go for a glass of wine at the cafeteria, so I opt for a café con leche. The small (half of Starbucks’ smallest size), plastic to-go cups melt a bit when the hot coffee goes in. I choose not to think about the supposedly scary toxins that enter the food when plastic is heated. Whereas a typical American coffee shop overwhelms with choice, here the rocker hippie behind the counter sells one type of coffee with one type of milk. I happily have no reason to spend minutes at the counter spilling out my order while a barista covers the side of my cup with graffiti.
11- Ideally, the second class starts. Again, a casual attitude toward punctuality (sometimes) takes hold here. Class with Amalia, the chic, organized director of the program, is always interesting. We learn about Spain through history, news, and culture, while picking up new vocab words that span the spectrum from “awk situation” to “microbial organisms” in one day. Amalia’s class is all about speaking correctly and diligently.
12:30- I wander home, in and out of cute shops on the way.
2- Siesta. It’s a wonderful thing.
4- Lunch of fried meat and/or fish. If we have vegetables, they are usually well-hidden amongst scrambled eggs or inside a crispy golden crust. To give you an idea of the richness of the Spanish food I’m eating, Carmen uses about 4 liters of olive oil a week, if not more. Very little of that is for salad dressing! Today, for example, we had fried calamari strips, slow-cooked chicken, fried potatoes, scrambled eggs with asparagus stems, and bread. Yesterday, fried eggplant, fried artichokes, fried beef, fried shrimp, and more bread dominated the menu. What doesn’t kill you (or clog your arteries) only makes you stronger, right? Come on, stomach, we can do it.
7- Daily activity with the group
9:30- I sit on the computer praying dinner will be soon. Carmen leaves for the grocery store.
11/11:30- Din is on the table. My favorite dish is always the fresh salad of crisp lettuce, white cheese, dried fruit, kiwi, tomatoes, and walnuts with a simple vinaigrette dressing. Other dishes tonight included white fish cooked in oil and white wine with tomatoes, cooked spinach with ham, a warm Nicoise-style salad with potatoes, tuna, green beans, and hard-boiled eggs, and stewed chicken pieces in a creamy tomato sauce.
12:30- In bed, ideally.