#churrizo

Hangover Hash Wife said “it should have been called the flying chicken. The chicken, the drink and eggs were good. The rest…👎🏻” She’s right. The biscuit was rock hard. The moon dust potato’s can fly back to the moon.

One hour north of Salamanca lives a tiny village in the mountains called Sequeros.  In the summer it is at its maximum population of 300 people.  And for the people who stay there, if you are not related by blood somehow down your family line, you are still considered family. My first week was a little overwhelming at first but like every place I've been to, I was able to adjust. Since the village is so small, it is impossible to go anywhere without stopping to talk to people every five minutes. And when the only English words they know are "Hello," "Nice to meet you," and "Thank you," it makes for an even longer conversation on my end, trying to piece together everything I was trying to say.

Oh and if you are in your bed to go to sleep before 5:00 a.m., expect to get a lot questions the following night.

Every person that I talked to said that Sequeros is impossible to explain... which it is.

There is one pharmacy, four bars, one park, and two "supermarkets" the size of college dorm rooms.

There are villages equal to its size all around the mountains and every summer, each village celebrates its traditions for three to four days at a time. 

One village, Mogarraz, celebrates two of its three days with the annual bullfight that takes place in the center of the town square.

Yes, they literally put up wooden boards to separate the crowd from the bull and pretty much give you a "good luck, hope the bull doesn't find you."

For my first bullfight, everyone kept telling me that I would be impressed.

"Impressed."

That is the word they kept saying.

After the first five minutes, I think that "mortified" would have been a better choice.

In the end though, I was glad I was able to be part of something that you could tell people were so passionate about.  And I could not help but fall in love with the two eighty-something year-old men that took me to the fight.  They spoiled me with information (not that I understood it all), beer, churrizo, and even stole one of the stores banners as a souvenir!

Aside from the bullfight, I lived the most Spanish lifestyle I think exists in Spain:

I was taken to a vineyard for a personal tour and wine tasting.

I rode on the back of a four-wheeler alongside the mountains

I danced the night away until 7:00 a.m. on more than one occasion

I ate the most delicious bread and spanish meat... ever

I hiked through the country only to be lead to a remote place where you can swim in the river

I watched the children of the village rehearse their play "Blancanieves" - Snow White and the 30 dwarves (too cute)

But more importantly, I didn't just leave behind the village when I left.  I left behind a new family and experience that I will never forget.

I'm not big on crying... but saying goodbye to these people was harder than I ever thought possible for only being there for two weeks.  And you better believe tears fell when I was driving away.

I can't help but smile everytime I picture my six year-old ping pong partner, Nikolás, say to me that I was his "amor del verano."

Summer Love.

.....and he has a girlfriend once school starts, but "I am not to worry."

On that note, hug and kiss for everyone!!

Sorry it has taken so long but after explaining where I was the past two weeks, I hope you all understand that the possibility for internet access was pretty limited (that goes out to you, NICK TROMBLY!)