Becks, a Job, Scots, and a City Preparing

Hello Reader.

So much has happened in the past couple of weeks. A few days after my episode in Picapiedra I started feeling back to my old self again. Ain't much in this world that can keep me down for long. And one of the highlights was that Becks was coming to visit the following weekend! This was one of the only times that I didn't want to have a job so I could take her around everywhere... then, as luck would have it, I got a job. Around the same time, Harri and Ali were getting settled into their new apartment (that was without hot water... or a sink... or a stove... but with an outstanding lime-green couch). I also met some nice kids at the hostel and went out one night until nine in the morning. Then the Scottish football fans tore through the city. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

Suzanne, Sue's friend that was visiting us for a few days, was hungry when we went to the market to buy fruit for 'fruit-salad-Wednesday.' I went to my 'Chica de Pan' (a girl I flirt with at my bread stand) and she kindly gave Suzanne two empanadillas (little meat/tomato pastries) for free. Suzanne ate them with a queasy curiosity. Fast-forward six hours to Suzanne hugging the porcelain throne, missing her flight, having to be taken to the hospital, and finally getting some medicine that could combat whatever it was she was sick with. Ali later said that the Chica de Pan was jealous that I was walking around with an attractive blonde and fed her the poisoned treats to knock out the competition.

The next day at New Orleans Cafe, where we have our daily tea/chocolate/beer/whatever, Jorge, who owns and runs the cafe along with his wife, Fina, pulled me aside and asked if I were still interested in working there as a waiter/bar back. I told him that I was of course interested and he told me that I should come in on Friday and work for a few hours as a test, and if that worked, I could work for the weekend a few hours each day. The entire weekend would be a trial period... translation: I'd be working for free. Better than nothing... well, equal to nothing... but at least I would have a job that paid... eventually. Friday came and I went down to the city hall type thing with Carlos, my flatmate, and got me officially registered as living in Valencia. (There's a name for that, but I forgot it.) I was only about an hour late on my first day, but Jorge understood considering I was getting the papers he asked me to get.

After a few hours of work and learning the ropes from Maria (the twenty-three year old blonde from Seville who looks fourteen), Jorge (have not even looked at the papers I brought him) told me that I would be working under the table and said that if anyone asked that I would act like I didn't speak Spanish and play it off like I was washing dishes to pay for a tab I couldn't cover. I knew this would be the only way to find a job and, besides, I once played Capulet in my High School rendition of Romeo and Juliet, so I was game.

On Saturday, Jorge let me leave work for a couple of hours so I could pick up Becks from the train station with Mike. We didn't have a definite place to meet, so Mike and I wondered the station yelling her name until we found her. We took turns hugging/picking her up and said hello to her new-found train buddy, Gerard. Gerard caught his connecting train and Mike, Becks, and I went to meet up with Ali, Harri, Sue, and Norah (who's name I put an 'h' on to make it more correct than how she spells it). We walked around for far too long to find a place to eat, then found a pizza place with probably the thinnest pizza I've ever had. Becks and I ate quickly then split back to my apartment so she could drop off her stuff and rush to New Orleans with me so I could continue working. The rest of them met Becks in the cafe where they stayed drinking beer and eating the free sandwiches and croissants that Jorge gave them. (I work for the coolest couple - though they think Fina has a crush on me, and Jorge has a crush on Harriet.) We didn't leave until almost two am.

The next day Becks and I met up with Harri, Sue, and Mike for crepes before I had to go to work. Becks went over to Harri and Ali's new place, which is near the port of Valencia (about a twenty minute bus trip.) I met them after work and we played a drinking game called Circle of Death, aka Kings, aka Waterfall. It is basically thirteen games in one and it's a blast. We actually ran out of beer. We caught a cab home and Becks and I crashed in my bed again, but not before some quality cuddling time. We slept in on Monday and made a quality salad using ingredients from the central market, and, of course, a fruit salad. A quick hot chocolate and a taxi trip to the airport, and it was adios to Becks. All my friends fell in love with her and still talk about her to this day. It was an amazing weekend and I only wish she could have stayed for longer.

I should also mention that before leaving work on Sunday night, Fina and Jorge told me that they thought I had been doing a really good job (even though I was in over my head on Saturday, my second day) and that they decided to pay me for the work I had done. I refused at first, saying that I didn't expect that and it wasn't part of our agreement, but I finally (and joyfully) accepted the fifty euro. I do work for some good people.

Over the next few days, it was life as normal, a few beers at O'Hara's Pub, a few dozen oranges now and then, a movie or two over at Mike's house (Apocalypse Now! and North by Northwest). I met a few cool people at the hostel. Thomas from England, Kasia (pronounced Kasha) from Poland, and her friend whose name starts with a 'P' or a 'G' (can't remember), Olivia from England, Tony from England, and Danielle from Massachusetts. I went out with the new group to Jimi Glass (a Jazz Bar with a pool table) naively thinking that I would be in bed before sunrise. We ended up going to two different clubs. There were ultimately only four of us left (Thomas, Kasia, Olivia, and Me) and I was trying to keep up with the Polack - mental note: never do that, their bottle-fed vodka as children to make them immune. It was crazy, Barcelona-like dancing all over again - but truthfully a super fun night. We went to a cafe at nine am (after leaving the club) and all of us proceeded to fall asleep at the table. We somehow got back to the hostel and fell asleep in the movie room for about a half an hour before Tom and Kasia had to catch a train back to Tarragona (a town between Valencia and Barcelona where Kasia was studying). I stayed sleeping on the couch until one pm, at which time I painstakingly walked home, usually a seven minute walk that took fifteen. I showered and forced down a kebab that then forced its way back up before sleeping for an hour and rushing into work.

My body punished me for the rest of the weekend with stomach pains and fatigue. Luckily it wasn't the busiest of weekends at New Orleans and I mostly laid low during the day.

On Monday, the Scottish arrived. There were hundreds of football (the 'real' kind) fans in town for a match between Glasgow and Valencia. I heard they were in a large group in the afternoon in Plaza de La Reina chanting and jumping up and down, leaving beer cans and bottles everywhere. Ali walked through and told me later she felt embarrassed to be from the UK at that moment. She and Harri met me at New Orleans and we went to dinner after I got off work at nine thirty - a few fans came into the cafe as I was leaving, but Jorge said it was all under control and he was going to close up at ten anyways. We took pictures of some Scots drunkenly jumping around in a fountain and made our way past the overcrowded bars to a cheap (and empty) restaurant.

After dinner, we were wondered if Jorge made it out alive, so the three of us walked to New Orleans. From a block away, we could hear commotion and singing. We rushed in to find maybe twenty or thirty guys, some with their shirts off crowded around the bar. I asked Jorge if everything was alright and he said that this was the last round. I stuck around to help him out and ended up mostly translating. Half of the group left (the somewhat troublesome half) and Harriet, Ali, and I stuck around chatting to some of the nicer, more polished guys. At one point before we left, six guys came in for about fifteen minutes and bought six six-packs of beer and six vodka and Cokes. They spent over one-hundred dollars in a matter of minutes, then followed my directions to the skanky part of town to look for prostitutes... Don't ask why I know where that is...

I stayed around after the last stragglers left to help clean up and Jorge gave Ali and Harriet a ride home.

The following night, Harri and Ali threw a party. I joined them after work around ten for another round of circle of death and spoke to some of their Italian friends. Everyone was really nice and Ali and I slept together on the couch - that is, we fell asleep together - then I moved to their 'spare bed' which has the comfort equivalent of a plank of wood. I was freezing most of the night as well. We woke up and I watched the others (Mike, Sue, Harri, and Ali) clean up a bit while I commented on how good a 'parking' it was (yes, I said 'parking' instead of 'party'). We went through a significant amount of beer and succeeded in not spilling anything, which is a real feat for us. We went to the beach because the weather was perfect, around seventy-five or eighty degrees. Sue and I stayed for only a little while because we had to go to work, but we met up with them later that night for a movie at Mike's house - and they even saved a little fruit salad for me, (after all it was fruit-salad-Wednesday).

The city of Valencia is gearing up for Las Fallas. This is an enormous city-wide festival that lasts from the fifteenth of March through the nineteenth. It started a long time ago when the entire city would go through spring cleaning and create large piles of all the old furniture in each of the plazas in all of the neighborhoods. They would then burn all the old junk. Over years, it evolved. They would put pictures of political figures on top of the piles, then start shaping the furniture into bodies, then finally making large effigies of prominent public figures - then burning them.

The festivities start on the first of March with 'Mascletas' (which has no translation of which I'm aware. Every day at two pm the city (and I mean everyone) gathers in the main plaza (which doesn't yet have the large edifices standing) to watch - but more listen to - fireworks. The sound is orchestral and thunderous. At the finally of the ten minute display, I can feel my chest vibrate. I've only felt something so strong once before at a Guster concert in Buffalo, NY. I was told by Sue to keep my mouth open so my ears don't pop... though I suspected another test of my gullibility, you better believe my jaw was on the floor when I heard how loud it was. The Mascletas will last until the end of Las Fallas, March nineteenth. There are supposed to be some of the most impressive fireworks displays during the festivities lasting up to an hour or longer each time. And, since I am emotionally aroused by fireworks, I will attend as many displays as possible (or as many as Jorge will allow me to attend).

This festival is going to be beyond huge. Each street will be filled with a river of people, especially in the center. I have gotten over a dozen requests from couchsurfers... and I don't even have a couch. If it's alright with my flatmates, I might have a couple of people come and crash on my tile floor, unfortunately that's all I may be able to offer. I will be working like twelve hours every day during Las Fallas anyway so it will be difficult to host.

Life in Valencia is brilliant. I enjoy everyday here, and not just because there are clear, blue skies ninety percent of the time. I admit I think a lot about home and my friends. In all honesty, I have even checked into flights from Madrid so I could surprise some peeps for a week in April... but I was advised against it. And I agreed. I have a solid group of friends here and I know it will really be hard when I have to leave. I also have a good job, and a boss that pays me with sandwiches AND money. I am planning on leaving here around April tenth to travel to Portugal, then North to Bordeaux, France for Angie's (a New Zealand couchsurfer that I met in Toulouse, France when I stayed with Benny) birthday party. I will then continue on my trip utilizing my rail pass until June when I meet a friend from the states and travel around for a month or so. It might seem that my plans are set, but I believe that spontaneity is one of the key factors of true traveling so I will remain open to whatever may come.

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