Repeat after me: ¿Dónde está mi pasaporte?

I’m leaving on Sunday! I’ve started my mental list of Things to Bring with me to Granada.
Spanish slang glossary.
French-Spanish dictionary.
English-Spanish dictionary. Just to make sure.
Extremely cool-looking sunglasses to hide behind and watch people.
Strappy tops and other minimalist garments (38°, people).


2. I’ve also started fretting pretty much full time now. Will I cope? What if the Andalusian lack of consonants really really throws me and I have no idea what they’re talking about and I can’t find the words to respond? Words are my crutch, my insurance, my passport. I’m not pretty enough for people to like me if I don’t talk, you see. I need words, I need speech to flow freely out of my mouth, or I feel like an invalid.

One of my (very distinguished) university professors accepted, at the pinnacle of his career, to lecture for an academic year in some L.A college. He lasted two weeks; everything was just too frightening. The food was wrong –eg, neither French, nor English.). The people behaved strangely (neither in a French, nor in an English manner). He kept getting the wrong impression, getting the rules wrong. There were huge whale-like places called malls instead of civilised town centres. He had to drive everywhere. One evening, he was picked up by the police for walking around his neighbourhood in a city where no one walks. They thought he must have been some kind of illegal immigrant.
At least, he had the words to talk himself out of the police station, hand in his resignation letter and fly back home.

4. Note to self: make sure I look around carefully as to get the rules right. From behind extremely cool sunglasses.