Saturday, February 12, 2011

Must move on from that pig leg picture. I had a terrifying dream about animal body parts placed in various areas of my apartment last night. A full-on pig corpse blocked the hallway leading to my bedroom and I'd rather not mention what I found in the refrigerator. Not only did I have to sidestep the former population of Old McDonald's farm while navigating the place, but I also had to avoid the cans of paint scattered throughout, as apparently my roommate was painting a mural of a dead pig on the wall.

Ham in Spain is like Diet Coke to my mother; the two have an inseparable relationship and any challenge to the union results in headaches and general delirium. Having my own kitchen at home makes my being a vegetarian manageable, but there are definitely fewer options at the grocery store and tapas are typically a no-go. I haven't been there in awhile, but back when I was frequenting the nearby pub multiple days per week, the bartenders had taken to making me my own plate of tapas that consisted of a.) mushrooms, or b.) Chino mix. Chino mix being nuts and various salty somethings having nothing to do with China. My students think it's a travesty that I don't eat ham, and last weekend I got a lecture from Jess's dude Victor about the evils of not eating meat. We agree to disagree and off he went to get a hotdog at 730 in the morning.

Awhile ago my roommates and I had planned a roommate dinner featuring of course meat as the star attraction and pobre Henrique had concocted a special side-dish made especially with me in mind. Gone from the recipe were the typical chunks of sausage but when he carried it out from the kitchen with a flourish, I had to gently say thanks but that's an omelet, dude. Eggs. I stuck with the salad and wine and we remain friends.

I've thought about this a lot - about how long I'll want to move around teaching English. A lot of people I've spoken to say they think eventually they'll meet someone and not want to leave that place, and that will decide where they'll end up. I think more likely for me is I'll adopt a dog and won't be able to take him on an airplane with me. Which country has the cutest dogs? Not Peru, as evidenced by the stray I photographed below in Cuzco.

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