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.

Su Alteza Real

(Plasterwork outside the Mausoleum in Rabat, Morocco)

Julia went out right before lunch today and said to eat whenever I wanted, so this time, I took the hint, and ate right away. She had left out beef stew, which was really good, and it was nice to just be able to read while I ate. Once late afternoon hit, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood and looked up where the closest grocery stores are - where else would I walk to? I found one and headed on over. Grocery stores are wonderful - I wandered the aisles just looking at all the different foods (the crackers that they pretend are cookies, the hot dogs in jars, the eggs that they keep on un-refrigerated shelves). I think a security guard was following me, as I was looking awfully suspicious just standing in aisles looking at things. They don't seem to do such things in Spain. Come to think of it, maybe they don't do such things in America, either. . .

So I found myself looking for Nutella, which, for some reason, wasn't there, and I was crouching on the floor deciding whether I should get an all chocolate spread or a swirled chocolate and almond spread. I had been there for a while and was holding one jar in each hand. My nose was sniffly and then the song "Everybody Hurts" came on the sound system. I pitied myself for a moment there. So I quickly decided the chocolate and almond spread would do and headed over the cashier. Afterwards I wandered the area some more, found a couple of potential restaurants, and then headed back to Julia's.

Here's where it starts to get good. Julia came back at about 9 and we sat down for dinner. I asked where she had been all day and she said she had been at the anti-abortion demonstration in downtown Madrid (over 1 million people showed up - it was on the news and everything) and then went to the airport. I asked her why she went to the airport and she said that her niece and her niece's husband and son were flying in from Italy. I've heard talk of this niece - she's Alexandra's sister, recently got married, recently had a baby, and now lives in Italy. So I asked Julia how old her grand-nephew is, and she replied, only 8 months. So here's how the conversation went:

I asked, "What's his name?"

She replied, "Principe Francesco."

I thought that was cute and said, "Aw, like all little boys,"

She responded, "No, that's his actual name."

Me: "He's a prince?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "So his mother. . . is a princess?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "Was she a princess before or after she got married?" (I needed to see if there were any queens in the family)

Julia: "After. She married a prince."

I then asked, "Where is she the princess of?"

Then I thought she misunderstood me and instead responded with her name: "Cecilia,"

I said, (trying to get some brownie points): "My confirmation name is Cecilia,"

She said, "What?"

I said, "Wait, what is Cecilia?"

Julia: "An island near Italy"

Me: "Oh, you said Sicily. . ."

Turns out, Sicily and Cecilia sound awfully similar in Spanish. Here's how that last part would have gone if I spoke Spanish:

Me: "Where is she the princess of?"

Julia: "Sicily"

Me: "Really? I've heard of that island that has nothing to do with my confirmation name,"

Julia: "Have you? It's just beautiful there,"

Me: "Yes, quite charming, I hope to buy a palace there one day,"

So we continued to talk about her family (the whole family has a Spanish title, apparently) and I remembered that she had said a few weeks ago that I should meet her 8-month-old grand-nephew (who I know now to be the Prince of Sicily). I really wish babies didn't scream when they came near me - I wouldn't want to upset a Royal Highness, even a small one.

Other fun tidbits I learned about Julia: her sister is friends with my Countess' sons and tomorrow Julia's asking her sister for the Countess' address!! Also, her sister used to be best friends with Jackie Kennedy. The Jackie Kennedy. Julia says the Kennedys are very down-to-earth. Good to know. I suppose I could do worse than marrying a Kennedy. . .

Demasiadas Comidas

(La Plaza de las Ventas in Madrid, Spain)

Today consisted of homework and lots of it. The problem is that it's all in Spanish, and that really slows me down.

But, per usual, I took regular food breaks, and Baquita and I chatted quite a bit in the kitchen. We discussed her family and the weather and most importantly her past jobs. Turns out, she used to work for a Count. Yes, folks, mention #2 of a Count in this house. I doubt this Count will want to meet a friend of his former maid, but she did tell me where he lives, so I could always practice my stalking skills. . .

Then as Baquita was heating up my lunch in the microwave, Julia walked in, and noticed that there wasn't a plastic cover on the plate. She got upset and then started in on Baquita for why she wasn't using the plastic lid and why the food was already cold. When she left, Baquita rolled her eyes. I saw it clear as day. I laughed and then Baquita giggled and she went on about Julia for a couple of minutes. She even told me that she was working for another family 3 nights a week, (but that I couldn't tell Julia, as Julia most certainly wouldn't be pleased about that). I officially have an ally in the house.

My lunch was a stew of lentils, chorizo, and what I think was some kind of intestines. I asked Baquita what they were and she said, "Don't worry - just eat them," which only added to my concern. I suppose they weren't bad, as far as intestines go. Afterwards, I headed towards La Plaza de las Ventas for a cooking class organized by the BC program. Lizzie, Matt, James, and I all met up at a señora's house and she showed us how to make paella, tortilla española, and sangria. It was great - like live Food Network - and then we got to eat everything at the end. The señora, Cristina, lives with her two sons, her mother, and two American exchange students, and said that she spends almost all day in the kitchen making food for everyone. She was really friendly and her apartment and kitchen were really nice, (although we did eat off of what I now know are appetizer plates, so Julia wouldn't have approved). After we were stuffed, we ambled back to the metro and went home. Of course, dinner was waiting for me when I got back home, and since I've learned to avoid sudden schedule changes around Julia, I ate that, too (a piece of salmon as big as my head and potatoes). 3 full meals within 8 hours - now I'm really stuffed.

Other tidbit: Julia is still asking me if I have the swine flu, so I looked up swine flu symptoms today. I have 7 of 8. The only one I don't have is loss of appetite, but I can't even imagine a sickness that would make me want to stop eating! So I suppose if I don't feel better soon, I better hop on over to el medico. Good times.

¿Una Naranja, Cómo?

(A fountain in Madrid, Spain)

Yesterday was long - I had 4 classes, 2 intercambio meetings, and over 3 hours in transportation. The classes were fine - I was awake and actually understanding things, and the intercambios were really good, too. The first meeting was with my new intercambio student, Ivy (from Bulgaria). Today was our Spanish week, so we had lunch and pieced together about an hour and half of conversation. Next week will be our English-speaking week, and she says she's nervous because my Spanish is better than her English. I think she's lying, but you never know. My second intercambio was with Jennifer (from Spain), and since we met in Spanish last week, this week was in English (the conversations are much better on the English-speaking weeks, I've found. . .). We chatted for almost 2 hours and she said we should start meeting at restaurants and museums and such, so we can see more of Madrid. I liked that idea, so I hope that happens.

Then it was back to dinner at Julia's. I had croquettes and pasta (carb-heaven!) while she had two different kinds of vegetables along with her liquified dinner. I think Baquita probably makes one kind of vegetable for me and one kind for Julia, but Julia's been eating them both. I would really like to eat at least one vegetable in the next 2 months, but I'm not sure how to approach this subject. I will work on formulating a strategy.

The conversation was better yesterday, too. I got her talking about art history, which is one of her favorite subjects, and then I brought up the subject of Christmas traditions in Spain, (Christmas is in a little over 2 months - the countdown has begun). She says she doesn't decorate very much (as that is a meager pagan tradition) but did provide at least one sliver of hope in that the traditional Christmas dessert is turron (a Spanish nougat cookie-type delectability). Because I will be severely missing the Christmas cookie tradition, I will have to appease myself somehow.

Today I woke up with a cold. Everything is sore and my nose is not being cooperative. I think I had a fever and I almost passed out this morning, (probably because of my lack of proper vegetable-vitamins). But I had my Spanish class today and made it there and back in one piece. Every time you blow your nose in Spain, someone freaks out because they think you have "Gripe A" (swine flu). They will take two steps back and stare you down as they interrogate you about your symptoms. No one has sent me to a hospital yet, so I think I'm still doing okay.

After class, I went to the library and got Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal. I'm reading the Spanish and English versions at the same time, and hopefully will pick up something that way. I also looked through the movies again. I downloaded an application on my computer last week that is supposed to play the European Region 2 DVDs, but so far only movies with Jude Law have worked. I'm not sure why that is, but I might be watching The Holiday and Sky Captain until I have them memorized.

For dinner, I had chicken (this time she had told Baquita to remove the meat from the bone, to prevent my barbaric habits) and purée of potatoes. She also made me eat an orange to get my Vitamina C. She gave me an orange on a plate with a knife and a fork, so that I could cut the orange segments into bite-sized pieces. I told her that people in the US would laugh at me if they saw me cutting my orange with a knife and fork. She replied that Superior Gabrielle knew how to eat an orange properly. I responded, (to myself) that Superior Gabrielle must be an interesting character.

Una Conversación Fantástica

(Marzipan on display in Toledo, Spain)

Today was pretty uneventful. I had Historia del Presente this morning, during which I was dangerously close to being asleep, then I had lunch with Lizzie. Afterwards, I sat in the library, where I almost fell asleep sitting in the comfy chairs, so I moved to a different chair where I also proceeded to fall asleep. I then walked to Spanish, which for some reason I thought started at 2 (it starts at 2:30, always has, always will) so I fell asleep in the hall, too. I'm not really sure why I was so tired today - I slept for about 12 hours yesterday. . .

When I got back to Julia's, I went for a run. I managed to avoid getting lost (quite the accomplishment) and, afterwards, even climbed the stairs to her apartment instead of taking the elevator. I had meatballs and rice for dinner (I haven't seen a vegetable in a month) and Julia really helped the conversation along (not really). Examples:

Me: "It was chilly this morning, I should have brought my jacket to school,"

Julia: "It's not cold at all - I had the fan on all day,"

Me: "My mom sent me pictures of home - the trees are pretty colors right now,"

Julia: "I saw a movie about NY once, it's nicer here,"

Me: "You said your niece works on an olive farm? That must be hard work,"

Julia: "It's not hard work - there are more difficult jobs,"

Julia: "What do you want to bring for lunch tomorrow?"

Me: "I think I'll bring the tortilla and chicken"

Julia: "Don't you like the meatballs?"

Me: "I do like them, but they're messy for lunch. The sauce leaks into my bag"

Julia: "No, no, you're wrong. They're not messy,"

Me (thinking): Well then, why did they leak into my bag?

After I get frustrated with her telling me I'm wrong several times in a row, (it's a well known fact that the quickest way to get me upset is to tell me I'm wrong about something) I generally revert to silence. She concludes that I'm tired and dismisses me to my room. Oh, the joys of living with Julia. And yes, I'm paying a great deal of money for this.

I think I'm going to go to bed early tonight. Wednesdays are long and start early, and I do despise waking up before it's light out. ¡Buenas noches!

El Día de la Hispanidad

(The military goat in Madrid, Spain)

Today was wonderfully lazy. I got up early for the parade, because I wanted to get a spot somewhat close to the road. I thought the parade started at 10, so I got there at about 9:15. Turns out the parade started at 11, so I got there really early and I had quite a bit of waiting to do. I tried to walk down towards Santiago Bernabeu, but there were all these blockades up. Julia told me later that that was because the President and Royal Family chill out at Santiago Bernabeu. If I had known this while was there, I would have tried harder to get closer.

The parade was an hour, and really interesting. It was officially a military parade, and all the tanks, planes, and divisions were involved. There were parachuters that landed on the street, tanks moving a lot faster than I though tanks could, and troops swinging their arms enough to give me tendonitis. It was like those parades you see on TV, where the country parades it's bazookas and missiles down the street. It was fun to see all the different uniforms, though. There was one division in wetsuits, one with capes, and one all decked out in skiing gear. There was also a goat. I asked Julia what the goat was about and she said it was the mascot of either the current political party or the military (my Spanish was cutting in and out). The goat was my favorite part.

Then after a quick detour to buy toothpaste, I headed back to Julia's for some leisurely hours of life management, as I call it. This is when I check and actually get to answer e-mails, look at internships, take care of the less important Post-It note items, etc. Then we had lunch and I found out that Julia had a pilot's license when she was younger and was married, too. She's never broached either of these subjects before, so I was intrigued. We talked a lot about the plane she owned (yes, she was rich enough to buy a plane in her 20s) - a Skymaster II, and I also asked her about her husband. His name was Gabriel and they were married for 21 years. She didn't say much more than that, I didn't want to be too nosy, so that's all I know.

Then I prepped myself for an afternoon of movies. I popped one in, but after half an hour, I was asleep. I woke up and couldn't tell whether it was sunset or sunrise, so I panicked and thought I would be late for class. It was 8 pm, so I wasn't late for class yet, but Julia was calling me for dinner. I stumbled out of my room and into the light, muttering something incoherent in Spanish. I had croquettes and rice, which were good, and we chatted about all of the vacations we've ever taken. She's taken more than me.

Now I'm about to attempt another movie, but I think I better set my alarm first.

La Corrida del Toros

(La Plaza de Las Ventas in Madrid, Spain)

This morning I dragged myself out of bed because I wanted to go to mass in a different church (seeing as Madrid has over 200). I picked La Parroquia de San Pedro, which is the second oldest church in Madrid and near El Palacio Royal and El Rastro (so if I couldn't find it, there was always shopping as a back-up plan). The mass times weren't listed on the internet, so I got there by 10:30, and turns out they had only one mass at noon. So I explored. I walked around for a while before I realized that I had been there before (on the first day's bus tour). I walked through the winding streets of the surrounding neighborhood and stopped at a bakery, La Iglesia Catedral de Las Fuerzas Armas de España (another pretty church), and the gardens near El Palacio Real. I got back to San Pedro in time for the 25-minute mass (they really whip right through them here) and despite understanding hardly anything besides, "La Paz," it was nice to have a change of scenery.

I then walked back to the metro and headed back to Julia's. I had time to finish my homework before lunch, so I was pleased, although Julia came in and asked me why I needed to use my light if the window was already open ("Because it is too dark with just the window," I responded - I refuse to sit in the dark). We then sat down for lunch (chicken and rice) and she called me a barbarian. Not even kidding. Apparently, to a super-traditional Spaniard like Julia, it is barbaric to eat with your fork in your right hand and put down your knife when you're not cutting something (Europeans eat with the fork in the left and the knife in the right, never putting either down). Although I will admit that I was struggling with my chicken a bit, it was nowhere near grounds for calling me a barbarian. Hmpf! She then said that I must be tired because I wasn't understanding her Spanish well. We had to resort to looking up a word in my dictionary. Turns out it wasn't even there - so I didn't feel so bad about not knowing it.

Then I had to leave for the bullfight. Ugh. All the BC kids are given tickets, and our advisor recommends we go, so at least we have an informed opinion of La Corrida Del Toros. There were a lot of people there and I will say that there is a lot of tradition involved. The plaza was pretty and I really liked the matadors' outfits (rumored to be designed by Armani). They were very sparkly and glittered in the lights. How it worked: there were three matadors (who each had a team of three helpers who would also flag down the bulls) who each had two turns in the ring. I believe that they get points for the various moves they do and each bullfight lasts for about 20 minutes. Altogether, La Corrida is about 2 hours and they go through 6 bulls. It was awful. Awful. The first poor bull didn't even want to fight. It just stood in the corner and they all had to gang up on it to make it move. Then they just stab it full of swords and daggers and who knows what else. When the bull started to turn on them, they would just hide behind these wooden slats until the bull ran away again. I watched the first bullfight for experience, started to cry, and then just read my book for the rest of it. My informed opinion is that La Corrida del Toros is a chance for a bunch of machismo men with Napoleonic complexes to show off and kill poor innocent baby bulls that don't really have a chance at all. It is horrid and antiquated and awful. I don't even have that many pictures because I felt guilty taking pictures of such an atrocity.

Beside John Grisham, the only thing that got me through La Corrida was the thought that Lizzie and I were going out for Korean food afterwards. We found a restaurant in our neighborhood and it was fantastic. At first we were the only ones there, but I don't see why, because the food was great. Lizzie got a sort of spicy tofu and cabbage soup and I got a rice, vegetable, and chicken dish. The soup was really good and I really liked my rice dish, although Lizzie said it wasn't the right Korean spices. My dish came in a "hot-pot" that changes the texture of the rice, which is stickier than Chinese rice to begin with. There were all sorts of tasty vegetables that I couldn't identify, and seaweed, too, and boy, was it good. Lizzie then ordered another dish that she was craving - they were thick noodles (think gnocchi) made of rice. Real tasty. The restaurant also gave us a tofu and seaweed dish on the house, as well as two shots of hot sake (I had a sip - tasted like white wine). I liked the rice noodles better. We ate a lot (especially with all the free food they kept bringing us) but it was so nice to have a change of flavors from the traditional Spanish cuisine. We got the bill and it was 20 euros each - it wasn't until later I realized that I spent over $30 on dinner - oops. But so worth it.

Tomorrow is a festival day in Spain - so no classes! There is a big parade that goes down Paseo de Castellana. I've seen commercials on TV all week and it looks pretty intense - I'll have to get there pretty early if I want to see anything. Right now, I'm watching a documentary about all these different dancing styles in Spain, and I'm actually half understanding it. I might even turn on The Holiday in Spanish.