When I open my window, I am greeted with the smell of fresh laundry. Aah! In this patio (courtyard moreoreless), every floor of the building has a clothesline to dry their laundry. Look up and there are orange sheets with ovejitas (little sheep) which have been hanging the last few days. But directly out my window you can see the arms of my host mother putting out our laundry--including my socks and undies. Through the open window she chats with the woman on the other side, too fast for me to understand although I get a general idea.
The simple yet marvelous life in Basque country.
