Orbayu

It's like a broken record, not that any of us still play records (except for you hipsters and oldies), but the point is that: ever since I had been placed to work in Gijon, all I heard was,

"It rains A LOT. But it's beautifully green."

My first thought process was also a broken record, Crap, it's going to rain all the time and I am going to feel depressed and miserable without sunlight for 8 months straight... It turns out that (surprise?) it does rain quite often, but, (better surprise!) the rain is an on and off again type of rain, and it's not a heavy rain, it tends towards a sprinkle or an orbayu, as they say in the local Asturian language/dialect (I don't want to get into that debate quite yet)... Orbayu is a special word in Asturiano that means something like a light mist or sprinkle. Now, it's important to note that, for example, when I woke up this morning it was raining snow. From my apartment I could hear the rain hitting the patio floor, but when I stepped outside and looked up towards the streetlamps (it's still dark here at 8am), I saw snow. But that same snow, upon touching the ground, transformed completely into rain. No sleet, no shitty, brown mess, just straight up rain. Using my Minnesnowtan knowledge, I took that to mean it was probably around 35 or 36 degrees... not cold enough to snow like it meant it, but not warm enough to simply rain. Anyway, by 10am it was sunny outside, and around noon it rained again. And back and forth rain and sun pendulum went.

I am finding this city to be quite charming and pleasant. I can say that I feel more comfortable here in the North of Spain than I did last year in the South. So far, I have deducted that this is normal because of the simple fact that I honestly believe that "the north" in countries all over the world have things in common, as do "the south." I also honestly believe this is simply due to the fact that the weather impacts your personality, lifestyle, habits, and ways of being in general. Why cold weather makes people more polite, modest, and kind? I don't know. I haven't figured that one out yet. I'm kidding... kinda. The north is just as precious as they told me it would be. Looooove it.

I must now address a topic I've been avoiding because I'm not quite sure how to explain it successfully, because more than a theory or a practice, what I am about to attempt to explain is an experience. So it may be true that Asturian people drink beer, wine and hard alcohol like all other normal people in the world... But Asturians have mastered the most socially entertaining and enjoyable yet sneakily dangerous form of drinking ever: SIDRA. Sidra translates into English as cider, but it has nothing to do with either the non-alcoholic OR the alcoholic version of cider in the US. Here in Asturias, they don't just pour sidra, lo escancian. Escanciar is a special verb used only to describe how sidra is poured. So, it goes a little like this: The waiter (or the drunk idiot on the street) holds the bottle of sider in his/her outstretched arm far over his/her head. The opposite hand is extended all the way down to the knee and holds a wide sidra glass. And, escanciar:

Next, the waiter passes the glass with a thick shot of sidra to the first person in the ordering group who makes eye contact or who reaches for it first. The next step is to CHUG. Note: Sidra is a flat drink and poured from waaay above the head aaaaall the way down to the knees to force some bubbly fizz out of it. Sidra tastes pretty damn convincing if it's bubbly but if it's flat... mmmmm... it's kinda like drinking a flat beer and we all know that's no bueno. The waiter pours a shot of sidra to every person in your group, all in the same cup, and decides when the next round starts. Oh, and when the bottle runs out, they'll bring you a new one automatically, unless you stop them first, that is. Sidra is known for sneaking up on you, too. And, it does. It got me once. I was out like a light only two hours later.

To my new friends who til now have tended to be pretty amazing but still will only be referred to by their nationality cause I think it's entertaining: The Polish, the Belgian, the German, the Canadian and the Italian. Yes, when you say it like that it sounds the the start of a joke. Honestly, with the way we communicate in our strange mix between English, Spanish and the four other native languages involved, our lives sound like a joke. But, it's good. And the only other random thing I can say about summing up why I am loving these people is: "Que hora es??":

Besos,

Molly