Alarm Clocks, Raw Eggs, and Cloudy Skies

Wednesday, July 20

One surprising factoid about my time here: I’ve been waking up the entire time without an alarm clock.

It’s oddly liberating to know that I don’t depend on a clock to get me out of bed, that I can depend on my body and the sun to know what time it is, and that for three weeks that planned worked without fail.

Until today. When I woke up and looked at the clock on my iPod:

9:19

And class starts at 9:30. I briefly considered doing the get-up-and-go version of events, mentally calculating that brushing my teeth, changing clothes, running a brush through my hair, and hustling to school could get me there no more than ten minutes late.

But then I also wouldn’t have eaten my breakfast, and my host mom would probably be both hurt and annoyed. (And I was tired, but I like to think the guilt was what kept me in my warm and comfortable bed.) So I made a command decision to eat breakfast, leave a note for my host mom, sleep in for another 45 minutes, and then get up and go to class after the mid-morning break.

Overall, not a horrible choice. I caught up quickly on the grammar I missed, and it shouldn’t be too big of a deal.

The only really negative side effect here would be the sickening lunch my host mom, who must’ve interpreted my behavior as real illness, made me to help me “feel better.”

In one bowl, I watch her mix chopped raw carrots, potatoes, and cauliflower along with some scallops. In another, she whisks oil, vinegar, salt, and a raw egg. And then she drizzled the mixture over the vegetables and served it to me.

In no way did I want to eat that. But I had made a resolution to myself before the trip, declaring that I would try anything once.

It was as disgusting as it sounds.

I swallowed two bites, and then told my host mom that I just couldn’t eat it. She repeated that it was supposed to help me feel better, and I apologized, explaining that it just wasn’t what I wanted, and I mentioned that we don’t eat raw eggs in the States.

But since what I actually said was more like ‘we don’t eat eggs unless we cook them first,’ my host mom interpreted that to mean that I wanted an omelet. Which she promptly made.

Overall, a ham omelet was not a bad outcome from an awkward situation.

Later in the day, we attempted to go to Gijon and go to the beach. It was lovely and warm in Oviedo, apparently not so in Gijon. I did get to sit on the beach and read for 45 minutes before we called it quits, but the day was still an adventure anyway.

And hopefully, we’re going to hit up the beach this weekend because the official trip was cancelled since not enough people wanted to pay the 60 euro it cost. I’d love to come home from this trip with a killer tan, and since I’ve only got two more weeks to make that happen, I need to get to the beach!