Residencia

There are plenty of reasons the Residencia is great. I've started to adopt our cook, Lola, as my replacement mother figure, I count down the days until the cleaning ladies come and give me fresh towels, and I get my own shower (even if it floods). However, there are a few things that are, as Ben put it, "so shitty about this place." The internet only works about fifty percent of the time, and we're not allowed to drink in the building because they don't want us to get drunk and lose all self-respect, running through the halls yelling and disturbing the other guests.

Lately, there has been a really large group of extremely rude locals staying here who like to be loud ALL THE TIME, even when they're sober, and speak to us in broken English since they write us off as stupid, unilingual Americans. Today, I was crawling in bed for my siesta, when I heard an exteremly loud brass band playing outside my window (my window faces inward, toward the courtyard of the residencia). That's right, the obnoxious Spaniards are a travelling brass band. I assumed they would only be playing for several minutes, maybe getting some last-minute practicing in before an important performace, but they played all the way up until dinner. I ended up resorting to curling up under my covers with my pillow, holding my hands over my ears and waking up every 3 minutes, startled by the obnoxious noise. I eventually caved when it was dinner time and they were STILL PLAYING, and decided to go get some food.

I went and waited behind them in the dinner line, shooting angry glares at them and their loud children. By the time I got to the front of the line, Lola looked distraught. That's the last straw, if they're going to mess with my new mom, they're going to have to deal with me.

The only good thing about them: a couple 8 year old girls in the elevator were convinced I was a model from an ad they looked at. That was the biggest compliment I've ever gotten, even if it was possibly an ad for hemorrhoid creme for all I know.