After school on Thursday I decided to set out and explore my neighborhood by myself. I walked in to a few shops where they were having enormous after-Christmas sales, and found a bag that crossed my chest opposed to simply hanging on my shoulder. Since the petty crime rate is so high (since thieves don’t get punished for stealing undr 1,000 EURO), I felt much more relaxed not having to clutch on to my bag at all times. Later that evening, after returning home from Corte Ingles with Karra, Loli asked me where my friend was. I could only understand bits and pieces of what she was saying and tried to make sense of it. “Your friend not for dinner?” I told her no, that my friend was going to go back to her own house for dinner. Loli seemed confused. “That’s nice”, I thought, “It sounds like Loli will let me have friends over”. When I was in the kitchen, everyone kept talking about my “friend”. “You must always speak in Spanish!” said Loli’s cousin. “Si, todos” I said, thinking that they were suspicious of what I did when I went out. “Si” is my response to everything. As I was eating my dinner in front of the television, I looked into the hallway and saw Laura and Maya. “What the hell?” I thought in my had. “Were they coming over to say hi?”. Then I noticed that Laura had her bags with her. “I’m moving in!” she exclaimed, ecstatic! She had been having a lot of trouble with the fact that her señora smoked cigarettes, and had been wanting to move out. But to MY house? I was very happy to see her and happy that she was moving in, but at the same time I suddenly felt sad that my “personal” experience at my home-stay would no longer be my own. We promised each other that we would speak in Spanish %90 of the time, knowing all along that it would be difficult to do. I worried that I may not learn as well with an English speaking friend in the house. Pero, we’ll see.
On Friday the school had arranged for us to have a scavenger hunt in the Retiro park, but had to postpone it due to a HUGE snow-storm. All of Madrid was a buzz at this rare event and people flocked outside. The city and its buildings looked absolutely enchanting draped in a lacy vale of snow. Several of us decided to go to the park any way. It was so beautiful in the snow and I remembered how much I loved it when I was here last May. Even though we were only here for a week (and I was sick with a virus during 3-4 of the days), I’ve found the visit to be helpful in acclimating myself to the city.
Later that night I was so tired but still wanted to go out. We found a funny little tapas place where there were men playing a sort of goofy polka-flamenco mix. When we realized that it was also a karaoke bar, everyone began chanting for me to sing. Absolutely NOT. It was such an awkward place full of mostly older people where two out of three previous performers had been wearing brightly colored velour track-suits. Way too weird. Since we were all so tired and hadn’t fully realized how to navigate the late night transportation, we decided to head back around 2:00am, when most people were just starting to go out!! The best thing about living where I do, is that it’s downtown where all the action is, so I will almost NEVER be far enough away from my house that I’ll have to stress about how to get home. Also, it’s very safe, with police officers all over the place so I feel like I’d be okay walking home buzzed.
On Saturday Laura and I woke up around 12:30, have almuerzo and set out to find wifi or an internet café. Never in my life have I been to a European city that had LESS internet access. Usually one cannot avoid it if they tried, but in Madrid…. We finally found a sign for internet around SOL and went inside. After paying 1euro for an hour of internet access, we worked with the technician trying to set up wifi to our computers for almost 45 minutes. NOTHING. Finally, we gave up and settled for using the dinky PC’s, which didn’t even have the ability to use SKYPE. We were SO frustrated by lack of internet access that we decided to treat our wounds with the natural remedy: chocolate. The famous Chocolate y Churros bar “San Gines” is literally a block away from my apartment. The chocolate is EXACTLY what I’ve always imagined the hot-chocolate described on the Polar Express to be like: thick, creamy and rich. The restaurant was very old fashioned, with big shiny bronzed pipes, glowing countertops, and waiters dressed in tuxedos carrying trays stacked with white teacups and plates piled high with various sizes of steaming churros. The number of people in the bar never ceased to fall below crowded, as those coming and going moved in sync with one another. Laura and I stood in at a bar, plunging our churros into the thick, warm, rich chocolate, Since it was already 6:30pm, we left a not for Loli asking her if we could eat dinner at 9 vs. our normal time of 8. We left the house to go walking around and saw Loli and her cousin (whose name I did not know, or maybe I did, but just didn’t know that she was telling me her name. I probably thought she was commenting on the weather or something equally as off). They had just gone to the “theatre” where they saw, wait for it………………HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL-haha! Loli gave it a 5 star review. That night I was still very tired, but met up with some friends to go out any way. Two of my friends went with some guys to a club and ended up staying out till 6am. They told us that at that time, there were more people out in the clubs, streets, bars then there were when we went home at 3:30am. I don’t understand how they do it?
Unfortunately, while I may have thought that my Spanish was beginning to improve, I was informed otherwise. While walking home, speaking only in English, a German man stopped in front of us, looked me directly in the eyes and said blankly, “Your Spanish is not very good, no?”. Was it that obvious? I know my English has begun to deteriorate from the confusion of thinking in two languages, but was it really so revealing? “I’m sorry..?” I said. “Your Spanish is not very good”. So that was it. “Oh”, was the only thing my linguistically reduced brain could think to respond.
It’s really true though. By trying to get my brain to structure thoughts in Spanish, I have had a harder time transitioning back to English. Terrific. Not only will I return to the United States unable to speak Spanish, but also unable to speak English.
On Sunday morning I woke up feeling very congested and tired, but made myself get out of bed to meet some friends and go to the HUGE Sunday flea market, EL RASTRO. Laura and I arranged to meet Maya and Kami at the Sol Metro stop which is only several blocks from our apartment. When we got to the square, we discovered a HUGE Palestinean protest. People of all ages wore their Palestinean scarves and headdresses, waved the flag and held up signs. Some of the most popular messages written across the signs were: “(the star of David) + USA= (Swastika)”, “Viva Palestina Libre”, “USA e Isreal racismo cruel!” and my favorite, “Con ‘ojo por ojo’ todos ciegos” a quote by Gandhi. A man climbed up on to a HUGE of a horse in the middle of Sol and waved the Palestinean flag back and fourth to a cheering crowd below. He then taped the flag to the top of the statue and lead unified chants that grew more and more aggressive. I found myself becoming a bit intimidating with all the anti-jewish and anti-american energy. It was exciting to see such organization though. The news stations in Spain are very different then in the United States. While the US may have a reputation for violence, the Spanish news stations show much more graphic imagery. Their stations seem less bias, exposing the terrible reality of both sides. I feel much closer to the action here and am impressed by the enormous response it’s getting from the people.
At some point last night I heard the sound of ambulances near my apartment. Living in Worcester for so long, I have become used to the sound of sirens, as it is a constant hum in my environment. However, I remember becoming briefly aware of the sound, only because I realized it was the first time that I’d heard a siren at all since arriving in Spain.
This morning as I walked around the corner from my apartment building, I saw an emergency vehicle and a news broadcasting station setting up outside the club the next building over. After school, when Laura and I were eating lunch, Loli began pointing to a story on the news. It showed a body laying on the ground with a coat covering its face. Caution tape created a barrier between the body and the people who looked startled and upset. Some men were crying. I couldn’t really understand what had happened since it was all in Spanish, but Loli made the gesture of a gun in response to my asking how he died. “But this situation is very rare, no?” I asked. Again, I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but I got the words, “young people” and “in the disocteques” with a tone that implied that young people can become rowdy, etc. It’s really strange that it happened virtually 20 yards from my apartment, but even more strange that I still feel incredibly safe.
It’s really good to have Laura around because she’s much better at grammar than I am. We have been very open with one another about how to prevent any stress brought on by being with one another so much. Her room is on the opposite side of the house, tucked away off the dining room which is only accessible through the back hallway. We are both able to have our own personal time. Right now, I’m sitting on my bed after a fruitless attempt at cracking the neighborhood wireless passwords. “If I were a Spanish person, I’d make my password….”. I was successful in cracking one password (yes, I know!) which gave me full bars, but won’t let me on the internet because I don’t have an IP password or something (?). Not having the internet has allowed me the opportunity to get to know my computer better, not only as a source of rapid pleasure that gives me whatever I want whenever I want, but as a modest and loyal friend.
I’m not feeling well and have felt very stuffy and out of it all day. Loli just came in dressed in her furs and asked if I was feeling better. I said yes as she stuck out her hand to feel my forehead. She then beckoned me toward her forehead. I touched it with the back of my hand, which she shook her had no and learned in even closer. I gulped in the strangeness of what I believed was being asked of me, and touched my forehead to hers. It was slightly damp with makeup foundation. She pulled back and informed me that I had slight fever but would be okay then walked out the door. Love her…
Some things I’ve noticed/learned about Spain:
1. People are very suspicious of smiling. This is particularly difficult for me because my most common facial expression is a smile. It’s my “go-to” face. When I smile at people (not in a creepy way, but a polite, friendly “How’ya doin’?” way), people look at me as if I’ve done something offensive. When I smile at men, they think it’s an invitation to sexual harass me. So far I’ve gotten around 2 normal smiles, and each time I cheered in excitement to the people around me. While I’m here I plan to introduce the act of smiling into the social norms.
2. Another thing that strikes me as bizarre is the lack of eye-contact but excessive amounts of “staring”.
3. Apparently Spain has pulled a lot of money from its mental health institutions, resulting in the release of many of its patients. Within the last 5 months or so, their have been two cases of schizophrenic people pushing a person in front of the train in the metro. One in Madrid, and one in Barcelona. Now every time I’m in the Metro, I stand firmly against the walls.
4. The coffee is good alone, but AMAZING with a lot of milk.
5. If someone under 18 commits a murder, they receive only a year or so in juvenile detention. For this reason I have become very conscious of being kind to young people…
I have some unfortunate news. Several days after arriving in Madrid, I experienced a terrible, earth-shattering loss. Upon arriving at my host-house on Tuesday morning, I discovered that I had left white-bear tangled in my hotel sheets. I returned the next day enquiring about my loss. Had anything been found? The lady at the desk let me suffer through broken Spanish and incorrect literal translating before asking me if “English might be easier?”. She said she’d look and I should call back the next day after the maids had cleaned the sheets. I called back the next day and the same lady answered the phone, informing me that “Nothing had been found”. My heart SCREAMED over my quiet reply. After several moments of swooning, I became very adaptive. It’s only a thing and it’s passing is symbolic of the end of one period of my life and the start of another. I don’t need it anymore…
I’m rambling so badly, but only because I haven’t been able to update my blog in so long and I don’t want to forget. Tonight at dinner Loli’s husband was trying to tell us a story about how his brother died. He speaks very fast and with a thick castillion accent, so its particularly difficult to understand him. He told us that his brother opened a two-sided window and a poisionous snake bit him. However, I heard “montañas” (mountains) vs. “ventanas” (windows). When he had finished telling the story, I turned to Laura in astonished that his brother had been killed by two mountains colliding. Laura burst out laughing telling me that she KNEW I’d think that since I hadn’t seen him point to the window. We laughed so hard that we cried and potentially offended the old man. I felt so badly, but it was honestly the funniest thing…
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