Adiooooo

If I am reading myself correctly, I have been avoiding writing this post to put off publicly admitting that the chapter of my life that was Jaén is officially over. I know it's already, umm, September, and that means I have been home for almost three months now, but I have been avoiding finishing this post.

I realize that might sound a bit dramatic, but I spent my last week in olive-land as an emotional insomniac. I cried mostly in inappropriate public places like the discoteca at 5am, the tapas bar in the early evening, the teacher's lounge at school, buying bread on Calle Cerón, the sidewalk in Madrid... and even now in the coffee shop in North East Minneapolis where I write this. Every goodbye seemed monumental... So, in honor of all the people who made every day enjoyable and memorable in Jaén...

To the waiters who served Holly, Amy and I on my very first night in Jaén, and many nights following.

To the baker Javi, better known as "pan-man" between Holly and I. (He bakes the best tasting baguette I've ever even thought about eating.) In the beginning I ate one baguette a day. Once I felt a couple of baguettes begin to circle my waistline, I tried to eat one every two days.

To the secretary at school, Javi, who humored me and my endless questions and thoughts about the Spanish Civil War, post-war and Franco. As a goodbye gift he gave me a book about the Spanish civil war called "La Batalla de Madrid." In this moment the dam broke, saying goodbye to him was when I cried the hardest.

To my private lesson students... First off, Tino and Laura, my favorite kids on the planet thus far. They give me a little hope that maybe not all kids are so bad ;)

And to Maria, a hematologist who taught me that it's never too late to learn another language. Aaaaand that it is possible to fit into a skirt you randomly find from your early 20's when you're 40-something and three kids deep. Ok, or maybe she's just super human, I'm not sure.

To the cook at school who let me join in on her delicious, homemade lunch twice a week with Pepe, the principal, and Javi. Her lunches were usually three courses, consisting of a shared veggie salad covered in olive oil, a main course, a second course, and a fresh fruit or yogurt for dessert, all accompanied by box wine. The kids ate this same wholesome, homemade and well-balanced meal every day (sans vino). It's no wonder American kids are so fat now-- the processed icky fatty foods they serve at lunch are nooo bueno.

To the cafe where breakfast was ingested every Tuesday morning in Cambil. Breakfast usually consisted of coffee, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and toast with tomato and olive oil or pate. Mmmm!

To my middle school students and their fascination with my "Minnesota" power point about ice fishing (lakes freeze?!) and the Polar Plunge (people really jump into a frozen lake?!). The kids prepared a very sweet goodbye day for me, they wrote me letters apologizing for their bad behavior (that was quite a surprise!!), they wrote "Bye Molly!" across the board and even gave me a picture frame and a jewelry box to take home. One of the boys gave me a special gift, a shiny hair clip (oh you bet that got a good load of "oooh" and "ahhh" and kissy sounds from the class). And to Pilar, my fellow and favorite English teacher.

To Morrison's Irish Pub, home to many €1 beer Tuesday nights and the producer of too many hungover Wednesday mornings at school.

To Kharma the discoteca and to Amy, cause these two go hand in hand!

To el barrio, Manuel and Tio Tony. Manuel was a teacher at our school who took us under his wing. He brought us to his barrio (neighborhood) where we got to know his uncle Juan (more commonly known as Tio Tony, cause he looks like MY uncle Tony) and all the staff at this particular bar called "Penalty." For a few months we would wander down to this corner bar and spend all day chatting and drinking. Ooh how we cried on our last stop by Penalty. We sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.

To three things whose importance cannot be described using a picture.... "la cuesta" (the big f-ing hill) that I lived on top of... the never-ending construction... and relative time schedules.

And last but not least, to the entity that was

"HOLY MOLY"
who forever changed Jaén.