So apparently Frederico Garcia Lorca did a lot while he was in New York in the 1930s. I wish I could tell you what he did, but I can´t. I´m sure someone has told me at some point, but the amount of Spanish I comprehend is inversely proportional to the amount of sleep I get. We´ve all been sleeping for around 6 hours a night, and everything that our director says goes in one ear and out the other.

I´m still in Guadix. My group has teamed up with the Spanish youth to put on a play about Frederico Garcia Lorca, a man from the Guadix-Grenada area who went to New York, was homesick, and made friends. The play is all music, dancing, and interpretation–none of the actors speak. You would think that by doing a play without words, everyone would be able to understand the play, but I´m still not quite sure what I´m doing.

I find that I´m learning much more about Spanish culture from the Spanish kids I hang out with than I ever could from this play. They take us out a couple of nights each week, and we go to the park or to a party, and my group speaks Spanish and the Spaniards speak English. They´ve all been really great, and it´s a lot of fun trying to explain in another language that yes, Harry Potter is an angsty teenager but no, that does not mean I hate the books.

Yesterday, we went to the beach. I can´t give an opinion on European beaches based solely on Dulce Agua, but there were a lot more topless people there than in America. Other than that, it was pretty much the same as any other beach I´ve ever been to.

It´s difficult to understand some of the people I talk to because of their accents. Here in Guadix, for instance, some people cut off the ends of their words. I think comprehension will come with practice, so I´m not too worried.

On Wednesday, our group separates for our homestays. I´m going to live with the Castellanos family in Atarfe, which is apparently on the outskirts of Grenada. I don´t know how most of the group feels about the separation, but I´m getting antsy here in Guadix.

We´re done with our ceramics lessons, and I have made some very lovely necklace charms, as well as a mirror frame. I don´t know how I´m going to transport all of this home, but I´ll manage.

Something that Spain has a lot of is stray dogs. I adopted one at a party the other night. I´m naming him Scruffy, and if I hadn´t lost him, then I would´ve taken him home with me. He is one of the cutest dogs I have ever seen, and I hope he´s okay.

One of my Spanish friends has given me a book written entirely in Spanish. It´s called El Colgante Maldito, which I think means “Tiki Doll of Doom.” I can´t decide if it was originally written in English, but from the cover, it looks to be along the lines of Bunnicula, so it probably was. I´m excited to start reading it; I hope I understand at least some of it.

Well, I have to go to a barbacoa in honor of our new Spanish friends. I´ll know much more about Spanish culture next time I write.