The rundown:
-I moved for a 3^rd time in less than 2 months
-Finding a new place was an exciting, challenging, and interesting endeavor

-I now live with two Spanish girls

-I still spend about 4 or 5 hours a week with my old host family

-I LOVE my old host family but I love not living with them more.

            I had adjusted to my schedule a bit but was still feeling a little overwhelmed, like I didn’t have enough time. When I agreed to work with the family, I figured I’d be with the two kids, roughly, two hours a day. When I began mapping this out in my schedule, I saw it was much more difficult to do than I expected. Because I was at school nearly all day, I was often using my evenings to meet with friends, work out and write this pointless blog. While I loved the family I was living with, and was very grateful for all they were helping me with, I still couldn’t help feeling a bit trapped by the living situation. That’s why, when the family felt that I should be spending a more time speaking English with the boys, I knew I wasn’t living up to my end of the deal. I decided it would be better for me to live on my own and teach a few private lessons to the boys each week, instead of living with the family.
            I was very nervous to tell the family. Mostly because I knew I couldn’t express how grateful I had been for everything they did for me. I wanted them to know it wasn’t because of them that I was leaving. I did my best to use my limited Spanish to explain and for the most part I think they understood. Instead of being upset with me, they simply said they would have done the same thing in my situation. They were disappointed, but they understood.  They offered their help with finding me a new place.

            That week I began looking at other place. First, I had to go walking around town gathering numbers. I found ads on lamp post, in grocery stores, and on the internet. I would then have to use my best Spanish to piece together if they were renting a room or not. This usually included the word “alquilar”  (to rent), “piso” (an apartment), and “habitacion” (a room). I sent out mass text messages and emails saying I was an American teaching English in Ourense and looking to live with native speakers. I got an array of responses. Many didn’t respond, some had already been filled, and some were too far away. One was in a different city, one was with a neat freak, one was with a guy who wanted to be more than roommates…and one was perfect, or so I thought.
            I had visited a few that would do but since the family wasn’t kicking me out, I wasn’t in a huge rush. However, there was something inside of me that really wanted to move out as soon as possible, some lack of freedom that was suffocating me. I had found an ad in the grocery store and texted it. I asked about the roommates. The responder said “two girls, one is 19 and studies, one is 29 and works, both Spanish natives”. It sounded perfect and I set up a time to look at the flat. Of course, as I had done many times before, I got lost on the way. I finally found where I was supposed to meet her. I was scanning the area looking for either a girl that was 19 or 29. I didn’t see anyone, well except an old man on the street. He called out my name. “Hola, Amber”…..Uh, what? Why do you know my name old man? Then it dawned on me. He was the owner renting out the third room. I felt a sting of caution and was a little hesitant but went ahead to look at the place. 
            The flat was quite nice. It was bigger than most I had looked at, it was clean, it had everything I needed, it was in a good location, and it was cheap.  There was no heat or internet but I thought all in all it was worth it. I agreed to take it and would move in the following Monday. I was quite happy with my decision. That is until I got sick and stayed in a house with no heat for one day. It was miserable. I couldn’t get warm, regardless of how many blankets I had on.
            That night I texted the owner and told him I changed my mind; I needed a place with heat. Fortunately, he said he had another place he could offer me that did have heat. When I looked at it, it was even better than the one before. No one was living there yet, the big room with the balcony was free, the apartment was just as big as the one before and in the same great location. I moved in a week later.
            Since then, two roommates have moved in. One is 28 and teaches private tutor lessons, but that’s all I know about her, (oh and she drinks a lot of coke and eats a ton of chocolate according to the trash).  My other roommate is 30 and is going to school and also working. I can’t quite figure out what she does for work. But it involves giant blue plastic barrels, something with bars, something with delivery and pickup, and something with oil. They are both nice, I don’t talk to them a ton but it’s nice to have them around to practice every now and then.
            I am so grateful for the freedom of having my own place, cooking my own food, having my evenings free and coming and going when I please. I still see the family twice a week for lessons. I teach Samuel for an hour, then I exchange playing for a half hour with Nico with reading with the mom for a half hour.  I usually get some delicious food out of it too.