[not] hangin' out

So my intercambios fell through; turns out the list of interested students was a year old. However I visited the site loquo.com and found other two people to talk to. The first guy was kind of weird, a self-described fiesta enthusiast; he wore bermuda shorts and a white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone, exposing his tanned and hairless chest. He told me we should sit and drink coffee, but that really meant walk down to, around, and back from the beach for two hours. This wouldn't have been bad if I hadn't just walked around the city for two hours, and after a four hour tour of Barcelona in my stupid Spanish sandals my feet were all sad and throbbing. So I cancelled my plans for Friday night; just went home and- as a homage to Patrick Swayze, whose death I just learned about- tried to watch Ghost online, a weird Spanish-dubbed version. But it keep freezing and so instead I watched Donnie Darko (which I still don't understand, because literally every single word in that movie is loaded and I wish the director would either be more concise in his message or issue a SparkNotes explanation with every disc) in the dark and it was kind of creepy; I have to stop watching creepy movies in my room alone with the lights off.

Anyway, today I woke up at noon, meant to leave the house at 1:30 to meet kids at the beach but didn't manage this until 5. Shit. So I missed seeing them but was on-time to meet my second intercambio date, Pablo. (Although I was only on-time because I texted, "Look man, I'm super foreign, have no idea where I am; it'd just be easier if we met here instead..." and changed the meeting place twice.) He's exactly the person I want to know here. He kind of reminds me of J. Nelson for some reason; maybe it's the hair, one of the fashion mullets from home that I know and love, not one of the earnest, nothing-ironic-about-it mullets that everyone has here. He liked my funny Spanish and was impressed by my knowledge of and desire to visit Can Masdeu. He's a guitarist who lived in the south of Spain, where he learned the soul of flamenco; we're exchanging music someday, which is great, and he said he'd teach me how to make paella, which is also great. He goes to Algeria on Wednesday for ten days, but said we'd "hang out" when he gets back (doesn't understand that phrase at all, but it's like how I don't really understand how to use "quedar" when I want it to mean "to meet up" or "to hang out with" or whatever it's supposed to mean). We're at pretty equal levels of foreignness, so I pretty much really like him and can't wait to explore the city on our Bicing-rented bicycles. He wrote down some nearby beaches for me to visit that are better than Barcelona's, and doesn't his handwriting seem like it belongs to someone I'd enjoy?

Anyway, so maybe I'll visit them next weekend while the weather's still perfect. In the meantime I'm starting to settle in and remember how little money I have, so I keep opting out of late night hip-shaking at bars and discotecas, because I don't have five/ten euros every night for the beers and the other things that help me keep rhythm. Not to mention that I like free things better anyway, and in lieu of porches to sit on, and Andrews, Justins, and Noahs to sit on them with, I feel like reading and looking for small, cool, cultural things to do in the weeks to come. I've been sitting on benches a lot, writing and doodling and taking pictures. Here's a doodle from that day I was so frustrated (euphemism) with how slow-paced yet jam-packed orientation week was that I sat in the hotel's bar and downed a whiskey and coke before our last meeting:

And here's a picture of the view from my window; it's really pleasant because I just leave my window open all day and there are no mosquitos here, just sunshine.