We Followed a Swarm of Bees in Salamanca

Salamanca is a college town in western Spain. Melissa's sister, Catherine, had studied in Salamanca through a study abroad program and highly recommended a visit to the city. It is located in Castilla y Leon, which according to the trusty Lonely Planet, is the soul of Spain, a reflection of true Spanish culture. The city is also the capital of a province of Salamanca. We took the only train from Lisbon to Salamanca which deposited us on the train platform after midnight. Sadly, the hostels did not accept check-ins that late, so we stayed at a hotel. We were decidedly out of place with our backpacks in a four star hotel. After weeks of hostels, we were thrilled to have a room to ourselves and even more impressed by the bathroom. A well lit, clean bathroom for just the two of us. And there were heated floor tiles!!! Such luxury! After a restful sleep, we made our way through the streets to our hostel.

Salamanca has a great feel to it. As a college town, there is great energy. It is home to the oldest university in Spain which was founded in 1218. The University buildings are scattered throughout the city. There is also an impressive cathedral. The New Cathedral was built next to the Old Cathedral (circa 13th Century) and was competed in 1723. There are also great scavenger hunts as you tour the city. Crowds gather in front of the university facade to search for the frog. Legend tells that if you find the frog you will have good luck in studies, live and love. (We relayed this to a fellow traveler lamenting about her love life who vowed, "I WILL find that frog!"). Melissa was floored that there was an astronaut on the New Cathedral. She kept saying, "What is an astronaut doing on a building built in 17 whatever?" It turns out that the building was refurbished in 1992 and an original saint sculpture had been destroyed beyond repair, so they decided to add something from the 20th century. 

Plaza Mayor is the heart of the city. Apparently it used to be the sight of bull fights. It is now a meeting place and ground zero for the shopping and restaurant district. We walked in to find groups of students gathering in some sort of protest. The students were dressed in teams of costumes. There were smurfs, popes, ballerina dancers (males in tutus, of course), monkeys pushing some sort of cardboard tree on a cart. There were baseball and American football players. There were prisoners and policeman which made it interesting when the real police came to disband the crowd of dancing and yelling college students. The drummer and trumpet player tried to negotiate with police but the group disbanded, only to gather again holding their bottles of rum and Coke high. When we asked someone what was going on, they just shrugged. "They're college students." That night, we were hoping to go out and do something fun. Then we noticed a swarm of bees swerve their way across the Plaza. We looked at each other. "Should we follow the bees?" Why of course. It is solid and great life advice; just follow the bees. So we followed the bees (we still need to work on our trailing techniques). They led us to a street filled with costumed students and then to a building that was covered in graffiti and advertisements. There was no store front or sign to indicate what it was. We walked in to find a bar filled with students, music and smoke. We shrugged and entered. After all, this is where the bees led us. We watched the bartender make a mixed drink that appeared to be popular and asked for one. For 5 Euros we got a liter glass filled with tequila, Fanta and topped with grenadine. A dangerous brew as you could not taste the copious amount of tequila in it.  We were in street clothes and spoke English and instantly became a novelty. We joined the bartender in a round of free tequila shots. We were in a room of costumed college students in Spain and just got free shots. It was going to be an interesting night.
We made our way to the back of the bar. I asked a girl if she spoke English and could she please explain why everyone was dressed up like crazy people. Every department of the college had a weekend once a year when they had a massive party. Tonight it was the biology and chemistry department's turn to party. The troop of monkeys and their tree suddenly made sense. I looked over to see a group of men dressed in black pants and shirts topped with pink lace underwear and bras, wearing pink and purple bath robes who were sporting pink fingernails, make up and curlers in their hair. One of the boys touched his curlers and winked. Another waved his feather duster. Enter Rafi and Luis. We talked with the boys, who despite their appearances were ambitious young men getting their masters in biology. Students gathered around us, anxious to practice their English and talk with Americans. Melissa learned new Spanish phrases. I did my best to improve international relations. Whenever I saw someone frowning and it appeared that they were not enjoying themselves, I would offer them a drink, yell "Tequila!" and turn the corners of their mouths into a smile with my fingers. Rather forward but effective. People smiled after that. They would then randomly yell "Tequila!" which I would echo. They thought this was fun. I liked it because I had gotten a second tequila/Fanta drink (on the house, yay for free drinks) and it was at least 2/3 tequila and I did not want to drink that much tequila. Melissa's buzz wore off at about 2:30. Rafi and Luis walked us back to our hostel where we found our hostel roommates on the balcony who were hoping to go out. We put Melissa in the peer pressure vice and returned to the bar for more drinks and dancing. At some point, Luis and I started kissing which evolved into a make-out session through the streets of Salamanca in the wee hours of the morning. I returned to the hostel at 4:30 with my virginity intact as I had promised Melissa. At some point, my watch was set an hour ahead so I was very sad to learn that I had gotten up an hour earlier than needed to prepare for our departure.

I had never made out with a random guy I met at the bar. As much fun as it was to make out with a Spaniard in Plaza Mayor and in front of the New Cathedral under the watchful gaze of an astronaut, it wasn't nearly enjoyable as one would think. And it has nothing to do with Luis. I had always heard that the emotional connection was crucial to women's enjoyment of physical intimacy. Now that I have experienced both ends of that spectrum, I agree with that statement. It felt hollow, shallow and cheap. I too felt hollow, shallow and cheap. It's almost like physical intimacy was designed by God to be between two people who have a solid foundation and intimate relationship, with physical intimacy being another layer to it, an added bonus if you will. Gee, I wonder... I suppose what I am saying is that my brief career of being a slut is over. I am not proud of my actions. I was not the woman that I am called to be by God. So I have resolved to button down the hatches and wait to have any kind of physical intimacy until I am actually in a relationship. And I am not going to enter a relationship just for the sake of having a relationship. Only if it seems viable, will I consider dating a man. So in the unlikely event that I get another chance in the dating department, I will probably scare the poor man away with pent up sexual tension. Oh twell, single status has many advantages, including more freedom to travel.

Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Salamanca Edition
- Experience hypernatremia after dinner. (Paella was disqualified from our best food competition because it caused electrolyte imbalance)
- Search a facade for Kermit
- Run into a South African friend that I met in the Sevilla hostel
- Discover that it truly is about life's simple pleasures, including ripping the hygiene wrapper off of a toilet. The knowledge of knowing that a toilet is clean! Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot!
- Want to curl up on a bathroom floor to soak in the warmth of bathroom tiles.
- Eat a persimmon
- Wonder if it made it better or worse that the Spaniard I was making out with was dressed as a house wife and had bigger breasts than I (even if the bra was stuffed with four football socks)