Everyday life in temporary housing.

The simple act of coming across the ocean seems to by some ill magic, wreak havoc with the power cord of my computer, every time. Well, going in an East direction, that is. The new section of the cord suddenly wants to be randomly moved about until it gets itself comfortable enough to start conducting electricity to my portatil. Before that happens, though, my computer has to flash red pictures of batteries and shut down.

Looked for rain boots and umbrella this morning, but the rain wasn't bad enough to force me to buy them yet. Found a well stocked health food store and got myself some oats and almond milk, integral rice and lentils. Found the market and got awesome dates and mediocre tea. No matter how fancy they wrap it, or if it comes from a designed up shop, you're taking a gamble buying tea here. I have no desire for my usual breakfast favorite: molletes con tomate y aceite y cafe. Just crunched up some spirulina tablets and boiled my horsetail/oatbud tea, which along with quitting heavy metals from the body, will provide me with a large dose of Silicon, which is one of the best ways of getting Calcium, as necessary for extremely active women as for older ones.

Now I am attempting to plug out the noise from the top 40 radio station blasting in the outdoor section of the hostel. I did not have the energy yet to move on to Granada or Sevilla today. Tomorrow I will go. But I did happen to meet an English girl who is volunteering here in exchange for room and board and says that the other Oasis hostels do that in Granada and Sevilla. When asked why I was unsure about living in Granada, I told them I was interested in a line of work that I had more connections to in Sevilla. What kind of work? I hesitate to tell every random stranger because when you're doing something that weird, you have to go through a reaction every time; it is a type of career goal that people would tend to look down on, or at least wonder why a woman like me would want to do such a thing. But the Spanish guy at reception said he would like to do the same; he has a shoe obsession.

So now I am going to work on my English teaching certificate and then sleep. It is getting towards siesta time already.

P.S. Just a look in the door of an old farmacia makes me feel like it is worth the trip across the ocean: the beauty of just about anything made in times long past... the care and craftsmanship put into the curvy glass bottles on undoubtedly solid wood cabinetry with lines that would be considered frivolous now, in such a place.