¿Dónde está Pepe?

Where is Pepe?

The staggering ratio of boys to girls means that either all the boys stick together, or each group of girls gets one boy. Luckily we have Pepe. He speaks Spanish better than the rest of us, so he handles our expenses and makes sure no creepy Spanish men are absconding with us. In exchange, being in a group of nine American girls, he reaps the benefits of all the free things we get. For example, last night we got two free bottles of Spanish dessert wine. While we stand around in the street deciding where to go, Pepe (which isn't his real name, by the way) wanders off and we follow him and this is how we actually get places. Today we lost him.

Sometimes being here feels a little like going back in time. I walk through narrow streets, with a cathedral and spice vendors, and all the brightly colored houses with fancy white windows. I keep half-expecting a lady in a gown and Spanish headdress to peer out of one of them. The Spanish have clung to their traditional fashions. The nicer clothing stores sell matador-inspired chaquetas (jackets). There's a lot of lace and frills and polka dots. It's all very ornate, and super cheap because of the crisis. ("Creesees," they call it.)

My internet seems pretty solid now, so I can finally talk to you a bit on skype or facebook or lo que quieres.

PS. I TOOK THE PICTURE AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE!