Yesterday, I met a really cool Spanish guy that works at a cafe I frequent. I had seen this dude before, but never took the time to talk to him. Turns out I probably should have. This guy, who guys by Nano, was blasting some pretty cool hip hop in the cafe. It was slow, so I take it he was enjoying the downtime. I started chatting Nano up about hip hop, and the guy knew his stuff. He had a taste for underground stuff, some of which I knew, and some of which I did not, and the classics, specifically mentioning none other than the RZA, the GZA, ol dirty bastard, U God, Ghostface Killa, Inspekta Deck, Raekwon the Chef, Method Man, and whole Wu Tang Clan (I hate to brag but if you read that out loud you will see that my order flows, count it)! Nano also showed me some Spanish hip hop by this MC who goes by Johnny South. I could not really understand what Mr. South was spittin, but the guy could flow. Nano informed me that Johnny South was one of his best friends, and that they both grew up together in Cadiz. I took this opportunity to ask Nano about Carnival in Cadiz. He said it was really awesome, that he was going, and that I definitely should go, he then informed me of something I did not know about carnival. “You need a costume,” he told me (translated from Spanish). “What kind of costume?” I asked. “I am going as a cow, but you could be a priest, or a nun, or a pirate, you could be whatever.” What?! I did not know you needed a costume for this crazy Carnival party. It sounds to me, the more I learn about it, that Carnival in Cadiz is something like the illegitimate love child of Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Halloween in Santa Barbara, only little Carnival hated his parents, ran away to Europe, and decided to prove his worth by being way way more badass than both of his parents. Needless to say I am going.

I have been in Granada for a few weeks now, and I am starting to pick up on some local customs and cultural differences. One of these differences I experienced on the basketball court, and I found it nothing short of infuriating. There are definitely some decent players out here, but none of them know how to play defense, like, 0. No one. I never thought I would be over here griping about the defensive strategy of Spanish basketball. For anyone how has ever played basketball with me, you know my defensive philosophy is wave your arms around, pretend you care, get out in transition, and start trying to find a way to jack up a 3. But, low and behold, here I am half a world away feeling like Gary Payton on an old Loyola Marymount team: I MISS DEFENSE. Jesus, never thought I would ever say that. But it is so very true. I went out to a park to play pick up, and when I worked into the game the question was posed “hombre o zona?” which my years of studying Spanish helped me translate to “man or zone?” Well, this is a pick up game, no brainer right? I bark “hombre,” assuming we would go man just like I have in every pick up game I have ever played in my entire life. Nope. The Spaniards I am playing with look at me like I just seriously proposed playing zone in a pickup game back home. “No, zona.” And that was the consensus. Yup. They were gonna go zone. Well, forget ‘em. I played man while the rest of my teammates, with the exception of my buddy Ray from North Carolina, played what I have come to understand as customary Spanish defensive basketball. I saw it first hand in the defensive strategy of the other team. Essentially, everyone sags off everything on the perimeter, which meant in the beginning, I got to wap a couple freebees from long. Then, if you drive the middle, it is very likely all 5 defenders will collapse on you. No joke. Thus, if you have the presence of mind, it is prudent to either put up a long floater, which always gets you some style points, or make the smart move and look short corner, as a teammate, often my guy Ray, was almost always wide open due to the 5 man collapse. It was really something. Now that I know what I am facing, I am looking forward to dicing up the opposing teams zone on offense, and bringing some Americans with me so we can get up in some guys in man on defense. That’s right guys, soft, jump shooting Jack wants to get right up in somebody next time he is on the court, in fact, I relish the opportunity. Man, this trip is changing my personality more than I thought.

I do not have too much other news for this post. I am just starting to get over being sick, although I do have some lingering congestion. This ailment is pretty much my fault, as the consistent partying during orientation broke down my immune system, and many of my friends’ biological defenses as well. Being sick has gotten me into a little bit of a lazy schedule, and I am trying to break the cycle of being lazy during the day and then going out at night on weekends. I am still learning more and more about the city each day, and some of my late night adventures have taken me to new and exciting locations, one of which is noteworthy. Near Granada’s Plaza del Toros, the giant bullfighting stadium, there are many excellent bars. One in particular, the Nida del Buho, the owl’s nest, has awesome tapas that are big enough to be a meal, and a couple of really cute bar maids to boot. I have been there the last to nights, clearly. 

Personally, I would like to see myself get a little more active, both in terms of exercise and getting the initiative to do more things during the day. Other than that, I am enjoying each and every day here in Granada, where the extraordinary happens on a daily, very ordinary basis.