Dias Tres y Cuatro

You know how your mom always has those things that you take for granted? Like shampoo, conditioner, and needle and thread. These aren't important until you really need them. Which, on Monday in the case of conditioner and shampoo, I really did need.

In Spain, there are literally hundreds of shops, all specific to their name. Carneceria, Pastelieria, Frutiera, etc. Well, there's also a lot of hairdressers, none of which are entitled Cortarpelo-cieria. Regardless though, they all have lots of shampoo (American, score!) and with American labels. So I choose one at random, on my way home from the first day of class, thinking that I might happen to take a shower that night (or more likely this week). I walk in. The attentive greeter is immediately by my side. I tell her, no necessito cotar mi pelo, pero necessito shampoo. Un momento she tells me. Okay, I think to myself. I'm not sure why I'm waiting when the shampoo and conditioner in their lovely familiar bottles are staring me right in the face, but whatev. So I start browsing through the different labels. Me parece to appear out of nowhere, the 115 pounds-soaking-wet hairdresser begins to feel my hair and give me lots of advice on hair care, por su pelo seco. I just tell her, no, no it's only a little dry, and respond si to every other question. And then I pointed to the bottles of shampoo and conditioner that I wanted. She thought for a moment, fingering my strands again. Si, she muses. And grabs the shampoo. I point to a bottle of conditioner, for a different effect (ladies, you know what I'm talking about: BedHead versus Catwalk, dry and less frizz versus bouncy curls). Pero esta por pelo rezado she tells me. I point to my hair, saying that it is just straightened, that it really is curly naturally. She gives my hair another glance. And then grabs the bottle of shampoo and walks to the counter. I take a look. There are two bottles of shampoo on the counter! I point this fact out. Pero este champu esta condicionante she says, confused. Si, but I want one shampoo and one conditioner! She takes the bottle back. I point directly at the conditioner. Yo quiero este. She grabs a different bottle of shampoo, and heads toward the counter. Almost quince minutos later, I walk out the door: a bottle of champu y condicionar, not the brand ni the effect that I wanted, and paid seventy euros... with the discount. But the ladies were still excited when I left. Tu recibes un regalo con dos botellas! 

Thirty seconds later, I walked past a general-looking store, seeing Pantene Pro-V and Garnier Fructis in the window. Dang. This champu better smell awesome.

En dia cuatro, I happened to break one of the straps on one of the two pairs of cute zapatos that I brought with me. I had to look up the words for needle and thread (they are aguja y hilo) and ask the grandmother of the house where I can buy these things. As a precursor, I don't understand this wonderful woman very well. Ella habla muy rapido; yet at lunch I definitely caught the comment about how salt will make me gorda. She sends me in the direction. I nod and say yes, even though I really don't understand her. But I figure lots of preguntas will help me learn the city even better. I go into a farmecia. No dice. The woman there sends me to the same place la abuela did, which starts with an 'm'. Obviously, this is not helpful. Eventually, I finally found some needle and thread, and when I got to the computer lab for CIUC students, the paraninfo, was able to sew my shoe. 

At the paraninfo though, I knew that I needed to print things for Texas next fall and for firefighting this summer. So I asked the usually helpful clerk at the desk. Lots of nodding, pointing, and directions... I think the place starts with an 's', but I really can't tell with the Spanish slur and lisp of all c's, z's, and s's... I'll just start looking tomorrow...

And note to all: when the ice cream is labeled melocoton con queso, it's good. But it definitely has a distinct cheesy flavor...