They turned on the heat, in the end, and I was given an extra blanket, so I think I might not freeze to death after all.
Yesterday was a busy day. In the hostal, we have to wake up by 10AM and leave our rooms, so that Salome can come and clean every morning (not really, but at least that´s a funny image--a belly dancer rapping on your door at 10AM to clean your room) .
But we should leave because they are very concerned about cleaning the rooms everyday, so it forces me to wake up and get on the Spanish schedule. It´s very quiet outside at 10AM in the morning. All of the boutiques are still shut up, and the streets are almost empty. I quite enjoy it.
Anyway, yesterday, was a bit stressful because I was worried about securing another hostal for next week. I can already tell that I will need at least until next week to search and secure a permanent place to stay--and it might take longer! I quickly toured around the neighborhood of my current hostel to look at my other options. Alas, they were quite disappointing. I was hoping to pay a bit extra to get a little room plus a kitchenette and washing machine, but the internet photos were not exactly the same as reality. I had high hopes for one place in particular, but in the end, it was much older than I expected, and each room was hidden behind a curtain. When I finally found the closet with the kitchenette, it was just that...a closet, and I thought to myself...am I really going to cook inside closet and behind a curtain? It was kind creepy, and it made me appreciate my little brothel more...
That morning, I also had plans to meet up with Paco that morning, so I had to hussle. The plan was to get myself to the Citibank in the old Anpudias neighborhood (where Dad´s studio used to be). From there, I would get some cashie-cahs and call Paco, so he could give me dirrections to his office. I figured I´d remember everything once I was I got myself to the old neighborhood, but clearly, my memory isn´t perfect. Although to be perfectly honest, I did do okay, once I stopped looking at the map, and just trusted my instincts. That seems to be the theme of this trip so far.
I finally stumbled upon it like a blue corporate beacon of finacial security in broad daylight. Unfortunately, I got there and realized that I had forgotten my ATM PIN at the hostel. I tried a few combinations (which in retrospect, seemed to be correct, which means there may be a problem with the card, but that´s a different drama to deal with on a different day) then remembered Dad´s story of having his card sucked up by the Spanish Citibank ATM machine and causing quite the Monty Python scene that only Dad can cause...and so, I stopped and called Paco.
Of course, Paco reminded me that I can just get money from the Citibank teller. Claro que si! Duh!
Anyway, once I met Paco, he took me to the Institute for English Studies to check out any postings and see if it could be a resource. But considering that the American kids hanging about were about twenty (although they looked more like 12 to me) and were talking about how drunk they were last night in the cafe, it made me reconsider finding a shared apartment with college students.
