Stupor and Happyness

The lights here are uncannily beautiful. Though sunlight has been in short supply (well, I know I'm better off than poor Hannah in Uppsala, Sweden), the color palate of the city (white, light green and blue, cream, clear, gold), the lights that come on at night, and the moon all assure that I'm never in the dark...not even when I'm trotting home from Bataplan the discoteca in the shadow of an alley (with plenty of people...yes, mom, I'm being safe). Here's a picture of one of the lamps that lines the pathway along Playa de la Concha, connecting the discotecas with Parte Vieja (where I live).
This week has been a blur. I just sat down and looked at a calendar and me di cuenta (I realized) that I've been here 2.5 weeks. What?! But yes, that's how beautiful times are. That's how life is.
I am beginning to feel at home here. There are obstacles; when locals ask me questions in the street like "tienes la hora" and "de donde eres" it still takes me at least 3 tries to hear them correctly, and I have to ask them to "hablar lentamente." Another obstacle that has become more and more evident to me is the lack of Erasmus singles (as in, without a significant other). Having had my first kiss with a Swiss named Nikolas in Guatemala, I came here certainly dreaming to find another European prince charming. But Badel (my roommate Mandy's boyfriend) said it nicely..."I think having a girlfriend is more important to the European lifestyle than the American lifestyle, and that means all the guys you could ever be attracted to here are taken." Well, I disagree with the last part of that statement, but it's definitely not as easy to be swept off my feet as my giddy girlish heart imagined. I am especially aware of this as Valentine's Day (tomorrow) approaches. But I am not absolutely the only soltera (single ladies put a ring on it!), and when looking at the big picture, this is a tiny hiccup. I'd be happy and giddy if Donostia were 100% female.
So it was my agenda to write all that up to this point. Now I'm just going to let it flow out. The pigeons here bother me. More than a few have waddled through my legs like dogs, and it takes restraint not to punt them. Speaking of pigeons, did you know that they explode when they eat rice, because they can't pass gas? How depressing.
Another thing I've noticed is how many more sleezebags and bizarre characters hang around Donostia than, say, LMU, West Los Angeles, or Ventura. I'm serious. Or I'm just more conscious about it now. I can't go a day without coming across a drunk 30-something year old taking a piss on a public corner. Today as I was watching the surfers on La Zurriola, a heavy-set, balding and perplexed 55-year old asked me for the time, then told me he was concerned his friends hadn't showed up yet. I told him I was sorry they were late, and went back to minding my own business. He was standing right between me and the water, so I was a little annoyed, but ignored his presence, hoping he'd get the hint and walk a bit down the beach, instead of blocking my view. Not so. He was there for a few minutes, and eventually my neck got tired of craning, so I nodded at him politely and walked a hundred yards down the beach. Then guess what happened. After a few more minutes of peacefuf sitting, he again walked between me and the water and stayed there. Then he got that grin that I have learned meant it was time to get out of there. More bizarre characters...the naked biker, the beggar on the corner who dresses like a clown and dances for coins everyday, the drunkard from Marruecos who grabbed my wrist on the way back from Bataplan. To all who come here, especially young women: hay que tener cuidado. But my gut tells me this: keep your wits about you, be firm, and you'll be fine.
Speaking of keeping your wits about you...oh, last night. It was the opening party for Erasmus at Deusto, and Bataplan hosted "Jueves Universitaria," or University Thursday, allowing free entrance to university extranjeros with a coupon. After a (not very good) dinner with about 50 of us in a crowded bar basement, where I had a great time getting to know 26-year-old Daniel from Sweden (we talked about smoking, the American stereotype, gay marriage, Robert DeNiro...yikes, it went everywhere), we went to Molly Malone's for drinks, where many of the students, including my silly roommate Miriam from Boston, decided to have multiple chupitas of Tequila, then mix with other drinks. So when we finally made our way to Bataplan at 2am, quite a few people were out of it. I know of three people who shattered glasses of vodka while dancing, and I got socked in the eye by the dancing elbow of a sweet German named Steffi who just wasn't paying attention. Sober Heather still had a great time. Then I walked home, step by laborious step, with my silly roommate, whose tequila had really gotten to her. It was kind of a cute, stumbling sort of walk.
The sun's out, my health is great, and I'm in paradise. It is impossible to complain...even if no sexy secret admirer is going to leave roses outside my door.
One more thing...my new favorite songs (listen to them if you haven't heard them) are Wild Honey (Beach Boys) and the big band classic Sing, Sing, Sing.
Until next time, keep me in your thoughts. You know you pass through mine (because I think about everything).