jamon and la discoteca

Saturday afternoon, I stood in the kitchen watching my host parents cook. They were making a traditional Spanish dish - a thick broth made with chick peas, potatoes, carrots, chorizo, and very fine pasta. Chorizo and other forms of ham are very important in Salamanca, and the people here take lots of pride in the quality of their world renowned jamon. Juan Carlos told me all about the process of making chorizo. From what I could tell, chorizo is made of meat hung to dry for months in the cold air of the mountains of northern Spain. He told me about other variations of jamon, and then uncovered a whole pig leg and began to shave it.

When we sat down to eat, Patricia immediately asked me, "So what are you going to wear tonight?" Oh right. I was going out with the girls in my class for the first time that night. Unfazed, I answered probably vaqueros and a v-neck. Everyone looked at me for a minute, as if deciding whether or not to tell me I had a sign on my forehead that read "stupid". I felt my face grow warmer as Patricia began to explain to me the importance of fashion here. Then Fonsey quoted Coco Chanel while describing what I should wear. It was worse when I brought them upstairs to look in my closet, and all they found were jeans, a few skirts, and a bunch of v-necks and tank tops. Every female in the house ransacked her things to find something suitable for me to wear. They put me in a black skirt, pantyhose, button up shirt, with two long strands of beads around my neck, and knee high black boots. "Si no te gusta, dimelo," Fonsey told me. To tell the truth, a was really too shocked to say much of anything at all. I couldn't even remember the last time I wore panty-hose.

After much deliberation, I finally emerged, ready leave, in jeans and a blue v-neck. I was already nervous, and I thought it would be better if I just wore what I wanted. And, as it turned out, we were all pretty off-target about what I should wear anyway.

I got to Carmen's house at around 8:30. It was a large flat, taking up the entire second floor of her building, and smack dab in the center of the Plaza Mayor and Salamanca night life. I knocked on her door and a minute later, Carmen greeted us in Stilettos, a black feathered mini-skirt, and a bedazzled tank-top. "Ok, ok come in! If you need the bathroom it's down tha howl and then we can do jour make-ahp." Ok. Sure.

Fonsey asked Carmen's mother around what time we would be back. "Oh, normally the girls go out until 2 or 3," Hearing this, I could already feel myself getting tired. I said good-bye to Fonsey, and the night began.

After putting me in heels and doing my hair, Carmen decided we were ready to go. So we went out, got a bite to eat with a few other girls, and then met everyone else outside. They were all decked out - heels, scarves, sequins, everything - and ready to hit the discotec. We got there and the bouncer let us all go through. Once in side, all the smoke made it a little hard to get my bearings, as did the strobe lights and the pounding music and all the dancing crazies. I felt like I had stepped through a time portal and I was in a Michael Jackson music video. It was pretty awesome. Only, when I came out, every item of clothing on my body reeked of tobacco.

Ten minutes before 1, I met Carlos outside, and he took me home. I was a lot more tired than I had anticipated, and after telling them the basic gist of the night, I was more than ready to get to bed.

On Monday, everything felt different. All of the girls talked to me more, and, for the first time since I got here, a couple of the boys in my class decided to try and talk to me too. Now they all slow down when they can tell I don't understand something, and even math is getting a bit easier. All in all, my first week has ended pretty well.