First, Happy Mother’s Day!

I’ve talked about couchsurfers in the past. I’m being much more selective about the ones I accept into my home. This week, I welcomed a Dutch father and son for four nights. Pieter and Alex were lovely houseguests. Pieter cooked a couple of delicious meals. And because my under-equipped kitchen didn’t have a scale, he bought one as a gift. Saturday morning, I fixed a big American breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee, and more. Their visit was a highlight of my week.

Sadly, I ended a friendship this week. You have seen me post and talk about Daniel quite a bit since I got here. I’m one level, he welcomed me to his home, introduced me to his friends and really helped me feel connected. On the other hand, he’s been playing manipulative games, playing on my lack of Spanish and experience in Spain to get me to buy expensive dinners.

Friday night, he went too far.

In Spain, the tradition is that whoever is celebrating a birthday, plans and invites everyone to their party. The celebration should not be before your birthday. That’s considered bad luck. I knew this to be true from multiple sources. It’s a bit awkward and opposite from what I’ve known in the US. But, I want to stretch myself and embrace this new culture.

With my birthday approaching on the 14th of May, I plan to host a bunch of friends at a roof top bar next Saturday (the 18th). Invitations went out saying that I’ll pay for the first round of drinks.

I posted on a group chat for Daniel and his friends that they all are invited. He responded that he would be out of town and regretted missing it. In a private chat, he suggested we get together this weekend. I’m not superstitious, so I said that would be great. I asked what he had in mind. He responded with, “In Spain the tradition is the birthday boy invites.” (Hadn’t I just done that!)

So I invited him to a restaurant for an after work cocktail at 7:00 on Friday night. He responded that 7:30 and petite comitee would be better. Fine. I’ll need to eat something.

In the group chat, he then started inviting people that I had just invited to the party on the 18th to join us on the 10th!

I wasn’t happy. But I tend to err on the side of graciousness.

I got the restaurant at 7:30 on Friday and I’m the first one there. I text him. How many are coming? “6-7”. So I swallow hard and get a table for six.

I wait. And wait. At 7:50 he texts me, “Leaving now.” I wait some more. At 8:15, he texts, “where are you?” I responded, “I’m outside the restaurant at a table for six, waiting for 45 minutes. Where are you?”

He calls. They’re at a restaurant called “Petite Comite.” “We’re all here waiting for you.” Despite the misunderstanding of location, there was no misunderstanding that he changed the restaurant to one that is more expensive. He invited a bunch of people at my expense. And then had the discourtesy to show up 45 minutes late.

I started to remind him that this is the second time he changed my invitation to a more expensive restaurant because the one I chose wasn’t good enough. He interrupted me. I hung up. He texted, “I’m sorry darling for the misunderstanding. We have a cake for you.”

I texted back, “enjoy the cake. And do not ever call me again.

I called my friend Martin from the UK. We met for a cocktail and he let me vent. He’s a good friend.

In the meantime, Daniel sends a video of the group singing Happy Birthday in Spanish to me. One of them, someone I had never met, texted that he wanted to meet me. I responded to him that friends don’t treat friends like I’ve been treated. I never responded to any of Daniel’s subsequent texts. It all felt so manipulative and self serving for Daniel.

So, I’m still calming down. I’ll get over it. But I won’t be manipulated into buying expensive drinks and dinners, taken advantage of, and left sitting alone at a table for six by myself for 45 minutes.

Saturday, Pieter and Alex, my CouchSurfing guests left. I went for a long walk to try to clear my head. I walked around the City of Arts and Sciences.

As I made my way through the adjacent Turia Gardens, there were runners, bikers, sun bathers, picnics, and children playing. And birthday parties. After I heard the second group singing, “Feliz Cumpleaños a ti,” (Happy Birthday to You!) I decided I’d had enough! (HaHa!) So, I came home, watched TV, including the Eurovision finals, until I started falling asleep.

Today, after cleaning the apartment, I decided to visit the Plaza del Toros. Unfortunately, the Bull Fighting ring was not open. But the museum was.

Inside the museum, I learned more about this unique Spanish tradition.

There are three stages of a bull fight before killing the bull. In the first, the matador uses only a cape to agitate the bull and to size him up.

In the second stage, he uses piñons to weaken the bull. These are stabbed into the Bull’s back.

In the third stage, he uses a sword to stab the weakened bull in the heart and kill him.

Because of the animal cruelty, bull fighting is becoming more and more rare in Spain. Until seeing the museum, I thought that I’d like to at least go one time to get that experience of Spanish culture. After today, nope. I don’t need to see that.

I would like to attend a concert in the bull fight ring. I bet that’s a fun experience.

Afterwards, I walked around and realized I was just in time to see a Maskleta (daytime fireworks) in celebration of the Virgin. Spain is full of religious/ civic combined festivals.

Check out this video. It turns out, I was right behind this photographer.

Then I walked to the old city. I thought you might like to see a few fun things I’d love to show you when you come for your visit. 😉

One of the things I’m realizing is that of all my friends here, none came to any of my choral concerts last week. And whenever I say, “I’d like to go the opera or the symphony,” no one says, “Let’s go!” So, this evening, I bought one single ticket to see a violin / piano concert at the Palau de Musica. I’m embracing a new mantra, “Do the things you love to do and maybe you’ll make friends there. And if not, you’ll be doing the things you love to do.”

The concert was:

Leonidas Kavakos, violin (Stradivarius)

Enrico Pace, piano (Steinway)

With music by Poulenc, Ravel, Debussy, and Franck.

It was exactly what I needed! The music was cathartic and healing. The Ravel was my favorite. After two encores, I left and strolled slowly home through the Turia Gardens on this warm Spring night, feeling alive and grateful to be in such an amazing city.

I called Mom in Kansas and Alice in Boise to wish them a Happy Mother’s Day. Give your mom some love today. And Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who are reading this.