It’s funny to think about when we got here (a week ago?!  It feels like a month) people would sit around chatting about how “they are going to live in La Latina” or “want a cute flat with a nice balcony in the room”…me.  And now you look around in you see people pulling their hair out while they desperately search for a place ANYWHERE.  It’s a dark room with a cot and no windows?  GREAT I’ll take it!  in the boonies of Madrid?  No problem I can travel.  With an old lady and her grandson?  I love old ladies! (Saw one yesterday with an old lady…) We are learning to take what comes our way because honestly, I think I could talk my way into Harvard at this point.  Going to see a room in Madrid is like being interviewed for the most important moment in your life…and you don’t even get to finish your sentence before the next applicant is in the door..literally!  I went to three showings today.  But first, lunch,

The first was for a room that looked really really nice on Idealista.

It was in Lavapies (love), had a room with a double bed (love) but no window (hate) but a living room with a beautiful balcony (love love love).  But the woman refused to do any sort of contract and spoke too fast and was kind of rude and the hallway smelled like curry.  There were two more girls there after me and even though I immediately messaged the woman and said I would pay the deposit, she didn’t respond.  Not meant to be and there are better places.

Then I went to see a place with another girl from my program.  It was an apartment in a GREAT part of town (right near La Latina metro) but the apartment was an apartment for ants and vampires.  It was tiny, had no windows, except for the interior part of the building, and had appliances from the 1970s.  Also we would have to pay an outrageous deposit and set up our own wifi and stuff.  No.

The last one I saw as I was walking to the second appointment.  It had just been posted and looked AMAZING.  So I literally stalk-called them until they answered the phone, walked over to go see it and fell in love.  It’s in the most incredible part of town right near the center (Anton Martin), every room has a beautiful balcony including the kitchen, it has a double bed and it’s reasonably priced.  It’s with two Spanish girls and an American guy, and everyone is young.  I immediately messaged the girl and told her I would pay the deposit, but they are going to let me know.

Is this not the most cut-throat process you have ever heard of?!

In between all of this, I walked two miles-TWO MILES- to buy peanut butter. HEAVEN IN MADRID.

I searched “where to buy peanut butter Madrid” and Taste of America came up.  I kept getting lost so it took me almost an hour to get there.  But I found it…I found heaven.

It came with a hefty price tag, but it’s worth it.  A couple days ago, I asked a guy I met if he knew where they sold it and he had no idea what I was talking about so I held up a peanut and said MANTEQUILLA CON *this* and he was like “ohhh, you Americans eat that.  We don’t eat that”

. 

The store also had American cereals, candies, cake mixes, canned goods, pancake mix, condiments and more.  Pretty cool but I just wanted my peanut butter.

I probably covered more than 8 miles today since I was out by 9 am and not back until after 7:30.  My feet feel like they are detaching themselves from my body and I can barely keep my eyes open.  Tonight is my last night in this hotel so tomorrow I will be dragging my 50 (I have bought a few pounds of goods) duffel to the closest bridge and camping under it until further notice.

Or maybe I’ll be living with a host family.  Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.

For one week, or until I can find my forever home.  I’m like a puppy that’s up for adoption and needs to find their forever home.

Woof.