Wednesday, 27 February 2013

23rd February: An Unexpected Obstacle

On Thursday morning, my linguistics lecturer actually deigned to turn up (even if she was twenty minutes late) and I had a productive day. My translation lecture that day was really interesting again, and it’s getting more challenging every lesson; this time, we had to translate an extract from what I presumed was a novel, Ancestral Vices. Given the fact that it was old-fashioned and idiomatic language and that it was an extract taken completely out of context, this was really tricky. I spent the most part of the class trying to explain the passage and the various idioms to my group.

That evening, Giorgos and I had planned to meet my English friends and go over to Marie Ángelez’s flat for drinks before moving on to some clubs, but Alicia was on antibiotics, Ali sick from her newly-discovered celiac disease and Lina exhausted from her run of long days, so it was just Giorgos, Annalisa and me. We were the first ones to get to Marie’s but not long afterwards a few of her friends arrived and we had a few drinks together. By the time they were ready to leave at 2, Annalisa and I were exhausted too, so decided to call it a night so we could enjoy the next day and night.
The rest had definitely done me good, and when I woke up the next day I was feeling fresh and happy. The others were feeling better too, so we met at 2pm with the aim of ticking off an item on our newly-created Bucket List for Spain – getting piercings. Luckily, we’ve decided that not everyone has to do every item, so Ali and I were able to get out of this one. I’d considered getting my nose done, but judging by my nan’s reaction when I had my belly pierced, I thought better of it, fearing this might actually finish her off.
When we turned up at the first tattoo parlour it was closed for siesta, and after trying two more we had to accept that they were probably all going to be the same. So we changed our plans and decided to go for lunch and meet again after my lecture to get the piercings. For lunch, we tried out a little Mexican place we’d discovered on our exploration of the town the previous weekend. We were the only ones in there but it was nice to have the place to ourselves; we sat outside in the sun overlooking the pretty little square.
At 4 I had to drag myself to my translation lecture, which finished after an hour anyway. This week it was surprisingly easy, as all we had to do was a translation from Spanish to English, which the rest of the class had been set to assess their level of English. So, at 5 o’clock when we were let out, I set out with Mira (the Finnish girl in my class with a strange love of piercings) to Alicia and Lina’s place, from where we went straight to the tattoo parlour.

I have to say, when I saw the place from the inside I was glad I wasn’t getting anything done. All over the walls were photographs of grotesque tattoos, on the shelves were creepy ‘Living Dead Dolls’ in their original boxes and under the counter were the bars and rings for every kind of weird piercing  you could think of. In the back there was a man lying topless having a sleeve tattooed on his arm. I couldn’t look; even the noise was making me feel a bit sick.
Alicia went first, as she was just getting the top of her ear done and seemed relatively calm. Nevertheless, it was more than a little worrying when she didn’t reappear after what seemed like an age, and we heard a shrill little “ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!” emerging from the room she’d been taken to. She came out smiling though, and next it was Lina’s turn – this time, to have her belly button pierced. When Annalisa’s turn came up, she disappeared into the room from where Lina hadn’t yet returned, and the door was shut behind her – not a reassuring sign. Afterwards we found out that the guy doing the piercings had made an exception to the rules and let Lina stay with Annalisa, who’d been freaking out, for moral support. Both of them emerged smiling and with shiny new belly bars. We went for a drink to celebrate.
By the time we’d finished our drinks it was after 8 o’clock, leaving us little time to get ready and have dinner before meeting again for the evening. When I set out at 9.45, the heavens opened, and in walking to university to meet the others, my feet got absolutely drenched. This wasn’t a good start to the night and it didn’t get much better. We didn’t start drinking until around 11 by the time we’d stopped off at the shop, the others had cleaned their piercings, and Annalisa had finished getting ready. And after just a couple of drinks I knew there was something wrong; I didn’t feel right at all. Before I knew it, I was being sick, and I knew it couldn’t be the drink making me feel like this – I’d only had a couple of vodka and Cokes and I was barely tipsy. No, this was some kind of illness.
Alicia and Annalisa ordered a taxi and took me straight home, tucking me into bed and bringing me glasses and glasses of water to my bedside. They made sure I had everything I needed (sick bucket included) before they left, telling me to call if I needed anything. The next day I woke up at 11.30 feeling just as bad, managing only a bit of breakfast and to answer their concerned phone calls before going back to bed. I put my alarm on for 1.30 in the hope that, by then, I would have recovered enough to go with them to Lorca, a nearby village. But when I awoke, and even when I took a shower, I felt no better and had to admit defeat; I could barely stand up for more than a few seconds, let alone walk around a village all day. The best thing to do would be to sit this one out and try and make a quick recovery.

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