You take your life into your hands when you sample tapas. Often they're very good, even if most of the time I can't tell exactly what's in them. But now I know to ask the waiter if I'm not sure, or at the very least, smell the damn thing before I take a bite. Eating tapas is a national pastime in Spain, especially during festivals when vendors often set up special kiosks; these were everywhere during Ferias, and we had been told that trying various tapas is essential to experiencing Spanish culture. Sometimes I wonder how they come up with certain combinations of food (octopus, tomato, cheese, and potato, anyone?) but I decided to just go with it. Questionable tapas aside, I had a great weekend. Saw lots of fireworks, heard a few concerts, saw a few parades, and basically just enjoyed the atmosphere. I was particularly delighted by the British Pipe Band. Who knew that Britains wore kilts? Well, maybe it's only when they're playing their bagpipes.

Many thanks to the Wandering Woman, who has reminded me that Ferias is not quite over yet! How could I have been so misinformed? I guess this isn't like America, where holidays end when the weekend does. And who actually celebrates the Fourth of July? No, we celebrate the Fourth of July weekend. At any rate, class resumed today. When I'm in class, I start to think that I'm beginning to understand Spanish pretty well, until I leave the school and remember that most Spaniards don't really speak that slowly and clearly. Damn my professors for anunciating and giving me a false sense of confidence. But communicating in Real Spain, outside of Classroom Spain, is getting better. I have discovered a universal language: hand gestures. It's fantastic.