So Tory and I have our spanish finals in two days which obviously mean that I suddenly have all this motivation to write on our blog... Promise over the next few days we'll update you on everything thats happened in Valencia. Between the madre (Janie this means mom in spanish) drama, PaRtYiNg, and language struggles we got lottttts to talk about. And we have to get you caught up before we leave for Marseille, France--just booked our hostel!
First we'll start with Marie Jose, our Spanish mom. We started our trip thinking our home was AWESOME.
Everyone else was being serving what they described as "baby food"and mooosh, while we heard the sweet sizzle of our madre's home fryer every night making us french fries, chicken nuggets, fried fish, and this weird fried ham and cheese block (which is obviously good because its fried). 10 pounds later we broke it to her that we in fact didn't want to look like total whales by the end of the summer--so now we only get french fries every other night. We've figured that our family isn't really much for health considering our madre is trying to lose weight by eating 20 jellos a day and she considers multicolor pasta with lettuce and croutons a "salad"
We've actually had some really good authentic dishes mostly involving rice and seafood, but at the same time we've had some food that left me legit gagging/ choking (spewing if you want to get graphic) like their weird sausage that looks like it has 0% real meat 100% organs in it, this really odd combo of COLD tomato sauce on rice with a fried egg, and supper mushy vegetables. Oh and for lunch everyday we get two sandwiches of GROSSSSSSSS lunch meat that we throw away--we've shown our madre 3 times Creme de Cacahuete (Jane this means peanut butter in spanish), but they don't sell it at her grocery store (which is one block away) and she DOES NOT SHOP at the other grocery store that has it (which is two blocks away).
#madreproblems
The mealtimes themselves are kind of hilarious. They usually involve our madre hovering over us asking us if we want more then the salad, baguette, chicken nuggets, pasta, meat and pudding we have in front of us. They also refer to Tory for everything--we are pretty sure they think i am mentally challenged (like they actually talk about me in front of Tory). Then when i attempt to speak any spanish they cut me off and ask Tory. Even though the other night our madre shrieked at me for not speaking spanish at the table. the hypocrite. Thus we've decided that she's bipolar and moved on from the subject avoiding her as much as we can.
In terms of family drama everyone here has had their share, but what really takes the cake is our madre's passive aggressive notes that she leaves around the house instructing us on what not to do, even after she's told us 1000 times through out the day. The count right now is at four explaining 1) how to work the lock (this is a not funny-funny in hindsight story we'll tell later) 2) to please hang up our clothes (shes OCD about our room) 3) to not leave any windows of the shower open because they have a depressed cat who is desperate to jump and lastly 4) something about the water and only using cold water. I honestly still don't get this one, so I'm expecting another note soon. We're averaging one a week and I'd bet we'll get another one before we go.
The finally deet on our homestay is our room. Our super smell SUPER hot super small room. Tory and i pretty much lie half naked in bed dripping in sweat trying to fall asleep all night. We have bunk beds and it is physically impossible to sit up in mine. its so great!...not
I'm just so over being mothered more then I was by my own mother when I was 12. but...OUR TRIP HAS ACTUALLY BEEN FUN I PROMISE. more on that later.
gotta watch baseball. GO HOOs
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