I didn't expect Portugal to be quite so awkward. By this, I mean that I didn't expect to feel so awkward in Portugal. The only reason I say this is because whenever I was spoken to in Portuguese, my natural reaction is to respond in any language but English (the language that they apparently prefer). Luckily, I broke myself of the habit of responding in Spanish by the end of the first day. (Reasons for why this is such a good thing are to follow.)
Anyway, for the nitty gritty details: overnight buses, no better than overnight planes. No worse, but no better... actually maybe they are worse: the buses going from Granada to Lisboa do not have onboard restrooms. Gah! So that means that we had to get out at the coldest bus stop in the world (an exaggeration, I know) while our driver had a smoke and coffee.
At one point the change in the veolocity of the bus alerted me that we were stopping. It was dark, I had been sleeping, was not wearing contacts, and was curious about where in the world (Iberian Peninsula) I was. I looked out the windows, saw some buildings, and couldn't read the signs. So, I put on my glasses, looked out the window, saw some buildings, and still couldn't read the signs. We had arrived in Portugal.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Huelga General = Grand Stink
I know that updates have been thinner than Twiggy, but I have a fantastic explanation that will be given after I have updated all of you about the life and times of Sydney Fogle.
So, the 29th of September, the entirety of Spain went on strike (or so we thought). In actuality, the numbers that the government give and the numbers that the press give when talking about the number of strikers differ (Qué sorpresa - my host mom tells me that this is not uncommon). The program was telling us that we should be prepared for strikers outside of our internships and even that the bus systems would be unreliable. All of this was true, but not to the extent of other places. As soon as midnight struck on the 28th and began the 29th it seemed like a completely different place (even Kabab King closed its gate!). There were very few people in the streets and walking home felt very strange. The morening of the 29th came and I had never realized how smelly trash can get, especially when the afternoon heat comes in and makes life miserable. Yes, we had picketers. Yes, it smelled. Yes, there was graffiti. No, we did not have random outbreaks of violence like in Barcelona (and now in France).
So, the 29th of September, the entirety of Spain went on strike (or so we thought). In actuality, the numbers that the government give and the numbers that the press give when talking about the number of strikers differ (Qué sorpresa - my host mom tells me that this is not uncommon). The program was telling us that we should be prepared for strikers outside of our internships and even that the bus systems would be unreliable. All of this was true, but not to the extent of other places. As soon as midnight struck on the 28th and began the 29th it seemed like a completely different place (even Kabab King closed its gate!). There were very few people in the streets and walking home felt very strange. The morening of the 29th came and I had never realized how smelly trash can get, especially when the afternoon heat comes in and makes life miserable. Yes, we had picketers. Yes, it smelled. Yes, there was graffiti. No, we did not have random outbreaks of violence like in Barcelona (and now in France).
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