Mein Gott! Eg har vel klagt te de fleste eg kjenne her nere, men te dåkke der heima har eg muligens malt et litt for rosensødt bilde av min kverdag i <3 Granada <3.
That's about to change... Don't get me wrong, - living in Granada is great!
However, waking up in Granada after 5 hours of sleep because your neighbors choose to celebrate whatever kind of holiday THREE days early, I must admit does not rub me well. Especially when my neighbor is a Primary School, - and they don't have to celebrate anything to make a great deal of noise in the morning.
Don't they understand that people living right next to their schoolyard would like to get a good morning's sleep after a late night? I mean, they're right outside my window! Right there!
And 5 floors down. Sadly one can't see the stage that's behind the trees. But one can absolutely hear Coldplay, Gigi d'Agostino, K'naan - Wavin' Flag, and "Viva La Niña Maria!"...
Anysooo... I mentioned late night... That was for my Norwegian homies. Spending the evening in a bar, dancing and drinking, and going to bed at 2am on a Wednesday night - a school night - would be "a late night" for me in Norway. Here it's my regular Wednesday night - salsa class. It starts 22:30 and goes on as long as we want it to, más o menos, - and afterwards we usually grab a beer somewhere. So yesterday I was actually home earlier than usual and having drunk only water (which I had to buy for 2€, - 0,50€ less than a beer). And school on Thursdays doesn't start before 6pm, - my Spanish course.
Other things I'm noticing about <3 Granada's <3 effect on me: I have no hair on my right index finger. Yes, I'm that macho that I have tiny hairs on the first digit of my fingers. Except on my right index finger... Why?, I here you cry. Because of the combination of gass stove and an empty lighter which only lights the gas by its spark.
Here you can see our excellent "teapot". Just enough for one cup, - that's how selfish we are. And single. And since I, for the moment being, can't warm my hands on much else (except salsa and
bachata, which is hawt!), I drink huge amounts of tea. Because, contrary to common belief, it's freezing in <3 Granada <3!
Sol i Stavanger! Og øveskya her? And only 3 degrees warmer here than in "Noruega? Hace frío allí, no?". I'm obviously not counting the fact that later today we will have 15 C here, while Stavanger still will have less than 5. And that the forecast is lying, - it's not cloudy here today.
And we can still dry our clothes out on the terraza.
But 15 C could just as well be 5 C when we can't control the heating in our piso/apartment/leilighet/kåk. I read in almost all the rapports written by students who had done their year as Erasmus in Granada: - Find an apartment with central heating! 'Cause then you get to have a too warm room between 5pm and 22pm, and a morgue cold room and apartment the other 19 hours. My dear friends Devold, Kari Traa and Ulvang barely make it possible to stay other places than under the blankets in bed, but it's still too cold to have fun with homework in Spanish. Even with my "pantalones arabes" it is still freezing...
I'm too cold to think about Spain's role in the history of psychopathology or ponder about the correct uses of subjuntivo. I'd rather take silly pictures and complain to you. And read one of my
all time favorite children's books. And hope that by some miracle it won't be as cold this time tomorrow, because then I really have to think about Spain's role in the history of psychopathology, and whether Szasz criticizes psychiatry. And what is a pseudopatient?
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