Daily Life in Salamanca

Every morning I wake up, look outside my double paned window, and fall even more in love with the beautiful city sitting six stories below.

Life here has become a comforting routine – waking up to my jingling alarm clock, then walking down our narrow hallway in my PJs to find Mari Carmen in the kitchen, preparing my hot tea and two pieces of white bread with strawberry jelly on the side. We talk about the day’s weather, watch Spanish cartoons, and I head off to school, usually with an extra piece of fruit or croissant that she insists I take as an afternoon snack. “Vale, venga, ta luego mi hija” she says as I walk out the door.

My walk to school is always the same; down the big hill, past the bakeries and carnecerias on Avenida de Italia, around the corner past the roundabout and dancing Zamora fountain, then across the busy street onto Calle Zamora, where rows of storefront window displays catch the reflections of people walking by. Edifico San Boal, home of La Universidad de Salamanca’s “Cursos Internacionales” (international courses) is my destination; inside a heavy door and up three flights of concrete stairs to Aula 6, the small and cozy room where I have three of my four bi-weekly classes. History. Business. Marketing. Grammer.

Two hours of class, then break. A 40 cent tea or hot chocolate from the coffee machine on the first floor. 2pm lunch time, and all the way back home for “la comida” – my three course meal of the day with Miguel and Mari Carmen. I walk home. Take the elevator, up six floors. Turn down the hallway to letter “j,” then open the door, say “hola!” and take in the smell of whatever Mari Carmen has cooked for the day. Usually something involving ham.

Lunchtime, always sitting at the same tiny wooden table. Yellow basket full of fresh bread in the middle. Glass bowl full of salad, usually all for me. We eat and watch the off-color kitchen television, always either showing “La Buena Ley” (Spanish version of Jerry Springer plus Judge Judy) or “El Cocinero” (A goofy chef with all kinds of interesting Spanish recipes) while talking about our classes and plans for the day.
Afternoons full of exploring. Walking around the city, down familiar cobblestone streets. Getting a cup full of chocolate in the Plaza Mayor, or sitting on the second story of McDonalds to use their free WiFi. Sunset over the old Cathedral, the clock striking six, dramatic shadows leaning out from buildings along the alleyway. The Plaza lights turn on. The city becomes alive.

Home for dinner, out with friends. Meeting under the clock in the Plaza at 11pm, like always. No one is ever on time. Boots, tights, dresses, scarves. A cold wind, and we huddle together, arm in arm. Foreign looking students approach us with cards; drink specials at this bar. Free entry at another. We dance around from place to place, following wherever the night takes us.

Home by three. Blinds down, comfy bed. Eyes closed, remembering another perfect day in Salamanca, and dreaming of family and friends in another life, far away.