Journal 4 -Alicante

*In Alicante I lived with a spanish woman named Maria. She's 74 and as loving and caring as my own mother. She lives in the city central and doesn't speak a word of english. Her grandson Jago is 18 and lives outside Alicante central in a seperate neghborhood.
He used to come by and stay in the spare room on the weekends becasue the bars and his friends are all in Alicante. This picture is of my parents (in the middle) and Jago and Maria. I sometimes refer to Jago as "my nino" and to Maria as my mother for future refrence.


October 7, 2010

Today Jago was sitting in my room and he started coughing . He coughed so hard he gagged and started to dry- heave. I asked him if he was alright and he laughed and said yes. Then he got up and scurried to the bathroomand, (which is right next door to my room)stayed there for a few minutes, made no noise whatsoever then returned with his eyes all watery. He's pretty weird.

Spanish people have no reservations about pointing out things on faces or around the nose or mouth; it makes me realize how oftern Americans will allow someone to continue on looking foolish.