Sunday 8th October

Blessed to be surrounded and immersed with new cultures here.

Thierno, the Rastafarian. Follower of Jah. Another beautiful way of living. Full of love and compassion. We have a good relationship. The silence can be enjoyed without the need to try and explain it. Poco a poco.

Committing to walking to school everyday. It is a wonderful challenge. Every morning I will climb the mountain. Accidentally bought ten lift passes trying to buy a metro card. So have that to fall back on if my legs give out on me.

Adapting to the slowness of life very well. MaƱana. No strict time. Meet at uno. Meet at dos. Meet at tres. Bien. Vale.

A Nigerian guy offered me drugs last night walking through Casco Vieja. He spoke amazing English. Wonderful accent and amazing dialogue. As I explained how easy it had been for me to apply and become a teacher here, his expression changed. It felt like an option appeared for him. Reminded me of something Kamal Ravikant said “If I only did things I was qualified for, I’d be pushing a broom somewhere.” Different kinds of pusher men.

There is a bar on Santutxu kalea called Crema Cafe. Right beside my flat. My local. Olli and I were stopped last night by the mafia. “You IRA, we are the same!” He had obviously seen a lot of the Sopranos. His accent was wonderfully modelled on Tony. The aggression and sarcasm perfectly apparent. After attempting to explain the rules of bullshit, my mafioso amigo pulled an Irish good bye. No doubt we will meet again. Blessed to live beside a Basque bar that opens till 4am.

Met Nissa again yesterday. Chance encounters are normal in Bilbao. There is an awful lot to learn about flirting through language barriers. Start with a couple of kisses on the cheek. Es normal.

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