Paddy's Day.

It is 9.15am, Friday morning, and I am sitting in class.  The lecture was due to start at 9.00am.  Other students stroll in and sit beside their friends, the lecturer has yet to arrive; a typical scenario in the University of Oviedo.  Thankfully I managed to change some of my subjects.  I am now back studying Latin, this time through Spanish obviously and it is helpful for my understanding of both languages.  You will be glad to know that when you translate the accusative infinitive construction in Latin into Spanish it will be infinitive if there is no named agent but in the subjunctive if there is an agent.  That is, Caesar commanded that a bridge be constructed (infinitive) or Caesar commanded the soldiers to construct a bridge (subjunctive).  Are we clear on that?  Good, let's move on....  As I sit there in the front row wondering if I have time to pop out for a smoke I realise that I haven’t written in my blog for quite a while.

Not much has been happening to be honest, so I grew a beard for a while; not a great success.

 

I continue in college and the exams draw ever closer.  My first sets of exams take place between the 15^th and the 29^th of May and then the three exams I didn’t sit in January will be taken in the first two weeks of July and then my Erasmus year is officially finished.  Where has the time gone?

 

On Paddy’s day I was invited to dinner at Daniel’s apartment (Daniel is one of the guys from the dance classes).  There were nine of us tucking into roast lamb and roast potatoes.  One Peruvian, one German, one Brit, two Irish, and four Spaniards sat with plates on laps, sipping on red wine and conversing in Spanish and English.  After the meal Monica, Vicente, Soraya and I headed for L’esperteyu.  You will remember of course that L’esperteyu is where we originally became acquainted during the intercambio sessions on Wednesdays.  It was about 5.00pm when we arrived and the bar was practically empty.  While we were sitting at the bar Armando, the owner, reminded me that I had promised the other day to help behind the bar should it get too busy on Paddy’s day.  “Of course, no problem”, I assured him and made a mental note not to promise or offer to do anything in future when drinking.  The place was heaving by 10.00pm and I was ‘called to the bar’, so to speak.  The live trad band in the corner were playing at a volume that hurt the ear drums, people thronged the bar demanding pints of Guinness and the free raffle ticket that came with each pint.  The eventual winner would be entitled to a free pint of the black stuff every day for a year.  Armando, his wife Teresa and the new barman Tito were already running around like blue-arsed flies trying to cope with the onslaught.  I took a deep breath and joined the melee.  I worked for about two hours until things calmed down a bit.  I really enjoyed the experience, it made for a slightly different St. Patrick’s Day.  The language barrier wasn’t really a problem to be honest.  Dos pintas de Guinness means – and I’m just doing a rough translation here – two pints of Guinness, una caña de rubia is a glass of Amstel and a Paulaner is a Paulaner.  It was amusing to see people I know enter the bar and do a double take when they saw me behind the bar asking them, “¿Qué te pongo?”

After my stint I sat back down with a pint (freshly poured by myself) and thought it a pity I didn’t have my camera with me as it would have made for good photos for this blog.  At the end of the night when I tried to pay my tab Armando wouldn’t take any money from me and thanked me for my help.  Nice one.
 

I am sticking with the dancing classes and I’m getting better, poco a poco.  I have at this stage attended eight classes, sixteen hours altogether.  Seeing that I am still there and making an honest effort, Belén the dance instructor, is giving me more of her attention, which is much appreciated by me.  The main difficulty I have with it is that we keep jumping from one dance to another.  Just when I think I may be getting the hang of the steps of the Salsa we then start on the Tango or the Cha Cha Cha y me confundo mucho.  It also appears that I am too polite when dancing with a woman.  Belén keeps telling me to be more macho and push and pull the woman around the dance floor.  It is my duty to lead and I should direct the woman into turns and spins by pushing on her shoulder blade or pulling on her hip instead of talking to her and asking her if she would maybe consider doing a spin on the next beat of the music.  The paso doble especially calls for me to be 'a man', I should stand erect (snigger), legs slighty apart, shoulders back, chest and genitals forward, my body language must proclaim 'Here I stand, I am a toredor and you, woman, shall twist and turn as I dictate'.  Hard to do this without feeling silly and laughing.  I hope that I can continue with classes when I eventually return to Maynooth. 

I’m off to Barcelona on Tuesday for six nights and I shall meet up with Emma, my Spanish friend of nearly four years now, and I shall take in all the sights and culture et cetera.  When I return to Lugones I shall have a few days to get some work done before my buddies from Ireland arrive for three nights of catching up and sightseeing and the tasting of local food and beverages.  So prepare for a deluge of photos in the next blog posting to make up for the paucity of visual imagery in this one.

Looking forward to seeing you guys soon!