convergence and divergence

This year has been full of life lessons learned but none as important as those learned in our stop in Leon. It took two forty-year-old gay guys to tell us what I already knew all along. During a very interesting late night chat with Javier, our couch surfer host, he confirmed all my thoughts about men with his infamous quote...keep reading to find out this novel piece of advice.

Our drive from Santander to Leon was the prettiest stretch of land I've seen in Spain. We enjoyed breathtaking views while winding our way up the mountain-lined road. To our right was the beautiful Bay of Biscay and to our left were snow-capped mountains. Ngoc was embracing the Spanish culture and driving at a leisurely pace of 40 km an hour, this wasn't a problem for me, as I was enjoying taking in the magical surroundings, it only bothered every single person behind us. Lets just say a few fingers were given as Ngoc was tailgated for a continuous hour. I can't imagine why people were passing us, the speed limit was only 80 km/hour. Don't they know Andalucía’s no tienen prisa?? (Aren’t in a hurry)

It was in Leon I made my first fatal mistake in Spain, I trusted a Spaniard, and not just with anything, but also my long blonde hair, which is now a thing of the past. After polishing off a few boxes of Kleenex from the floor of tears I cried I have now accepted the fact I might be considered as a boy with my new short hair. (Ok, slight exaggeration but point is, homegirl cut way too much hair). I don't know what I was smoking (I almost wish I was on something so I would have an excuse for my stupidity) when I decided to walk into a random hairdresser and trust them to cut my hair. What part of a simple trim was not understood, clearly something was lost in translation? Apparently the woman understood, "please chop all my hair off," because that's what happened. But, no pasa nada...it will grow back, by 2015....no big deal. Ngoc wasn't as fortunate with her new style either. However, at least for her she got some new cute bangs. Lesson learned, you just can't trust a Spaniard. You think I would've learned by now but the naiveté prevails.

Apart from the disaster hair ordeal, Leon is another beautiful Spanish city. I don't know what you are still doing sitting in Seattle reading our blog because if you haven't already visited Spain, you are missing out on a country full of beauty. As always, we saw the usual Western European agenda, that is; the cathedral, palace and of course, old historical buildings with importance. However, we made it to Leon without one Mercadona stop, which is beyond impressive and we were determined to find our cheese sandwiches. After an endless search (I won't embarrass myself and say how long we spent walking) we finally found Mercadona hiding behind a gas station. After a weekend without our coke, the sandwiches tasted better than ever. What would a trip be without our 1-euro friends? If only our readers could appreciate the comedy behind this story, because we really do live off of these sandwiches. Try supporting yourself in Spain on 700 euro a month and let me know what your diet consists of. I wonder if living below the poverty line is a resume builder, something unique, no? We watched a nighttime procession in which the klu kluk clan, I mean, a secret brotherhood of Spaniards, marched in front of the church with their patron saint or virgin above them on a float. I'm not even going to attempt to explain this holiday because it's just.....not for me, lets put it that way to avoid the sacrilegious comments I'm itching to make. As Ngoc pointedly said "She wasn't even a virgin," if only she would make that comment to a Spaniard I think a mini war might start.

Now for the infamous Javier quote. After dinner we were having a nice chat with our hosts and apparently they were bored with the theme of the conversation. Chema piped up and said, "let's talk about sex," maybe he just liked Salt n Pepper. Who knows? Any who like every other person in Spain, they asked if we had boyfriends. Obviously not, I replied. I'm in Spain, who am I going to date? A Spaniard? Please! Celibacy sounds like more fun. I explained what all my readers already know, Spanish men just aren't my thing. Of course, this perked their curiosity. It's easy I said, every guy I've been on a date with this year (mind you, too many) has made no attempt to hide his desire to sleep with me right away. Whatever happened to playing hard to get? I said "every guy just wants to sleep with me," which immediately prompted them both to say, "obviously." Men. What can you do with them. Anywho, conversation continued and Ngoc asked for a male opinion about her MIA “boyfriend.” She needed the opinion of males to help with her confusion. Javier cleared up any doubts by stating, “it’s simple, the difference between men and women is, women want to converge and our content to be with just one man whereas men want to diverge and our happier with multiple women." Personally, I’m of a differing opinion. I blame male behavior, aka, repeated acts of stupidity on the y chromosome. Due to the PG-13 rating of this blog I'm unable to post some of the funnier parts of the conversation but trust me when I say it was an animated and informative conversation.

With our newly discovered knowledge we said good-bye to Leon and our hair and set off for our stop in Santiago.

Besos
Ally