Adjusting to change, and counting it

Yesterday I had a delicious lunch at Border Grill with a dear friend,  at a time wonderfully Spanish-lunch-late in the day: at 15:45. (That's 3:45 PM. It's just more precise and efficient this way. That's one of the few things more efficient outside the States..oh, not the mention the metric system. Anyway.) To pay, I had to remember that a) the price one must pay always exceeds the listed price on the menu--why on earth do we do that here? and b) the value of American coins. Well, a I remembered, but b? Nope. The price was $6.36 and I fumbled through my quarters, nickels, dimes and pennies, trying to recall what they were worth. What an odd price! Why not just charge six dollars?

Well, I gave him the wrong amount of change, cringing as I handed it to him, just barely clinging to the slightest hope that it was actually worth the right amount. It wasn't; he looked at me like I was silly and handed back the nickel, waited for the dime; my friend explained "She's been in Spain..." as I am too busy laughing to think even sort of clearly any longer. When it finally was paid for and arrived at the table, the tostada salad sure was scrumptious.

I also went to Starbucks yesterday to meet up with some friends. I came late--feeling the tug of American and Spanish sentiments on my way there. Will they be annoyed? Should I just chill out? I couldn't get there any quicker, so I relaxed and showed up a bit late. I got myself a drink and most of them had finished theirs or nearly were done. When everyone was ready to leave and got up before I was done, it was the rude awaking to the fact that I am not in Spain anymore. We don't have all the time in the world to sit and chat and eat and drink with friends. So, I begged them five more minutes to stay so I could enjoy my drink in peace. Then I got up and left anyway--feeling like I was slowing them down--slurping the vanilla bean frap as I walked, blessing the memory of Spain in my mind.

That's just life. Over there, there was oh-so-many a time I longed for American culture. For just one moment of solitude, for example... But, I won't change Spain and I won't change America. I can only change me.