Biqui: “Margarita, is there something I should know about that people do here in Spain that we might not do in the United States?”
Margarita: “Hmmm. No, not really. Oh! Well, I don’t know about the United States, but here people wear shoes when they go outside. It’s looked down upon if people don’t wear shoes.”
B: *confused and bewildered* “Wear shoes outside?”
B: “We… do that… too.”
M: “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure. Well, that’s about it then.”
One of the first conversations I had with my host “mom” Margarita (in Spanish, of course)
But it didn’t start out that way.
Once I was able to get past the whole “oh-my-gawd-I’m-leaving-my-country-along-with-all-that-is-familiar-and-dear-to-me-and-turn-the-plane-around-cuz-I-want-my-mommy!” (You know, that little gem) it was actually pretty cool.
‘Twas a great day!
Upon waking up, I quickly noticed I was on the receiving end of that sinking feeling all procrastinators come to know [oh! so very] well when I realized I had fallen far behind the acceptable packing time frame. As a result, I started working in what could only be described as HYPER DRIVE.