Un Día de Historia

(The Atocha Train Station in Madrid, Spain)

This morning I woke up early-ish and headed on over to the National Museum of Anthropology here in Madrid. It was quite interesting. There were three floors and each one was dedicated to Asia, Africa, or the Americas. All the exhibits were really well laid out and I had a good time trying to decode the item descriptions. I could pick out most of the words, but for the descriptions where I couldn't, I would let my imagination fill in the blanks, which always makes things more fun. Warning: the doors in this museum are very heavy and don't open easily, so don't just go walking into them, because you'll bounce right off to the stares of everyone standing around you (personal experience).

While I was at the museum, looking at a model of a South American home, my phone started vibrating in my purse. I dug around trying to find it and whipped it out just in time to see a missed call from Julia. I froze. Do I call her back? What does she want? I left a note on the table before I left. I can't talk on the phone in Spanish - I don't even talk on the phone in English! I won't understand a thing! I can't not call her back. Before I regained enough circulation to make a rational decision, Julia called again. I answered, "Hello? Oh wait, I mean, ¿Hola?" She babbled something about my not needing to be on time for lunch, because she was spending the day with her family (I heard the words: don't, need, return, lunch, I, family - and filled in the rest) Then I heard the words: prepared, table, goodbye - and she hung up. I figured she said that my lunch was waiting on the kitchen table, so whenever I got home I could eat. You can see from my method of processing information that a lot can get lost in translation.

Relieved that my telephone conversation was completed, I finished the museum and crossed the street to the Atocha metro/train station. There are some tropical gardens inside, so I took a look at that and then caught a train home. I've never had to take a train outside of the usual one for school, so of course, there was a point when I thought I was lost. Fortunately, I wasn't lost and made it home in one try. I then finished my homework and read some Harry Potter.

Julia came home for dinner and we talked about her brother, who has just come back from a month-long safari in Africa. Then, after we talked about African movies, I mentioned that I had looked at her family pictures in the living room (I am completely allowed in there and the pictures are on display, so no worries). I said it was interesting to see the people she's always talking about, but that I can't guess who everyone is. I suggested that sometime, we should look at them together. Her response: "A person's family is an intimate matter."

So I guess that's not going to happen. But she did get me the Countess' address when I reminded her. I think it's a fake. It has no numbers and Google doesn't recognize it. That's never a good sign. I might ask her about it again tomorrow. If I've worked up the courage.