Five More Minutes-OAR

I have to find a theatre in Madrid showing Harry Potter in english.

My feelings towards the Prado are a bit like my feelings towards shopping. Its a good thing to do alone because if I were with anyone they would judge how long I take on every painting and every store.

6 hours in the Prado! But I saw everything and loved every minute. Heres a tip, always get the audio guide. They're only a few bucks and always give more interesting information than the little panels. I will always regret not getting one at the Colloseum in Rome, I know I missed so much because of it.

My favorite? Hippomenes and Atalanta by Guido Reni. Atlanta had many suitors and said she would marry the one who could beat her in a race (the losers she would kill, ha!). Hippomenes loved her and during the race, he dropped golden apples which Atlanta stopped to pick up. He won! This may be my favorite peice of all time, beating out The Kiss by Klimt.

Last night I accidentally took the train to the last stop when I was supposed to get off at María Tudor. I saw lots of painting of María Tudor yesterday. Did you know she is who bloody marys

are named after? She killed a bunch of Protestants.

The security gaurds yell at me in Spanish. That MUST mean I look local. Finally! I try so hard.

I'll Make A Man Out of You- Mulan

We made our way into the city last night pretty late, got off the Metro at Banco de España and walked about a mile in the wrong direction. Turned around and walked back to find the Thyssen Museum. Waited in line to find the museum was closed, but there was a special exhibit open, some Antonio Lopez that we didnt know so we left. Heres where it gets good.

Rick Steves sucks, and no college age traveler should buy his books.

That being said, we were losing light and didnt know how to spend the time we had in Madrid. Rick Steves had said, let me quote this

Electric Minibus Joyride Through Lavapiés
''For a relaxing ride through the characteristic old center of Madrid, hop little electric minibuses #M1. These are designed mostly for local seniors who could use a lift (offer your seat if there's a senior standing). Enjoy this gritty slice of workaday Madrid both people and architecture....''

We finally find this bus. Iria eyebrows lift, she takes a fast breath and says 'No no no! This is for people with...problems.'
'Yes I know, its the old person mover, but its through the old town, lets just do it. The book says.'

So I shove Iria over to talk to the driver, book in hand. He confirms that this is that and looking skeptical, he allows us on. This was all wrong. It was just all wrong. The thing had 8 seats including the area for the wheelchair. We sat on the old person mover alone and waiting until an old lady got on...and then a nun, and she sat next to Dani. Then we rumbled into motion. Í'll give it to Steves, it was an okay trip...but we were NOT supposed to be on that bus. It was about 10 feet long, four seats across the back filled by myself, Iria, Daní, and the nun. People looked at us. Íria says to me quietly, 'I feel bad, like this is for people...we are young and we can walk.' At this time, Daní not having heard her looks at us, shoulders pulled forward and back hunched trying to be as small as possible next to this sweet old woman and says 'I feel very strange.'

So I agreed that since the bus was already full, if someone else got on, we would get off. We ended up riding to the end. Caught the Metro to Retiro Park (Central Park of Madrid). So we walked some more, bought caramel corn and listened to a trumpet play 'Summertime' possibly the best song ever.

But 'Summertime' is NOT todays post title. Why you may ask? Because yesterday Daní became a man.

By this time it was dark. We were cold and hungry and didnt know where the nearest Metro was. We start looking for dinner, and just as we decide its too late for Madrileños to eat out (10p) we see a sushi place. Daní is very picky, there are a number of things he doesnt like, and refuses to try including avocado. We make a deal, we all go into the su shi place and if he doesnt like it, he goes to McDonalds.

The first hurdle was the chopsticks. This took a while, and admitedly we've all been there and its tough. Long story short, Daní liked everything he ate (we called his mother) and it was the best su shi I've ever had. Tobiko? Never had those and we didnt know what they were. They're fish eggs, they pop and crunch when you bite them, best ever.

On the way to the Metro, we saw people with ice cream and a Vips.

They said 'You've never been to VIPS?! Its American!'
'No, I promise its not, I've never heard of it.' But it kinda was...burgers, fries, ice cream, the usual. We crossed the street to the Metro and saw a cool little gelato place where all the locals were. Dang. Oh well, I know what Vips is now.

Today, I take the city and Prado alone. Íria has friends coming in for the Blackeyed Peas concert tonight and Daní has already been there done that.

PS-Steves also sent us to a touristy gelato place the other day. It was in fact really really good gelato and worth it but the only other people in their were Americans. Note: In my opinion, when in Rome, get the Pistachio. When in Madrid, get the Leche Merengada (lemon cinnamon) OR the Dulce de Leche (carmelized milk) both were unbelieveable.

Alejandro-Lady Gaga

I dont think Alex, Alejandro likes it when I sing Lady Gaga to him at all given opportunity. I cant help myself. The boys dont like Gaga much, they call her a man, and Beiber a girl. Which is a bit ironic in that I sometimes find European men a bit more feminine than their American counterparts.

I like Madrid very much, given I´ve not seen much of it yet. We did go to the market Sunday, the biggest flea market in Europe but found nothing worth its price. Home base is a north side flat opened to us by Iria's Godmother, Cruz' sister.

Pool by day and terrace by night, Madrid is a tempting life full of sunshine and horchata.

One of the biggest difference I've found in Spaniards in their inner clock. At home, bedtime is midnight, and I´m generally up by 8 or 9am. Midnight, on more than one occasion is when we sit down to dinner. And I adore these dinners! When we landed in Madrid, given, our flight was in at 11 but we sat on the penthouse terrace under a dark sky and bright moon eating multiple cheeses with bread, fruit, yogurt, aquarius ( do you remember 'Tang'? this is that!) and of course Horchata. We dont wake until 11 or later, lunch at 2, dinner usually at 9 but sometimes later.

Julio jokes, telling me he cuts the grass every morning, reffering to the astroturf. He shows me his grape vine, plethora of herbs and plants he has brought to life on the terrace, I´m happy to talk plants.

Last night after dinner I sat on the warm, breezy terrace talking to (Godmother) Marise. Someone had turned the lights out on us and I joked about closing time...she brought up Dublin pubs. Not me. She told me about her first job, researching new technologies where she would meet with a team of other Europeans in a different country each month and she had been to Dublin a number of times. She smiled as she told me how fun the times were, spent with other young university researchers in foreign cities, when funds were heavy and the workload light. But all that has changed now she says. She tells that she would still like to see the north, I agree and the subject comes round to the IRA, and then the interesting part, the terrorist group of Spain, the ETA or Euskadi Ta Askatasuna. Marise explains that the IRA and ETA and the given situations are very very similar (apart from the religious thing, that doesnt play into the ETA, as everyone is Catholic). Basque country Spain wishes to be a free nation, and it being very industrial and very rich, Spain doesnt want to let it go. Although there are many languages in Spain including Galician, Castilian, Catalan, and Valencian, they're all similar to Spanish and at the least latin based. Euskera, the language of Basque Country is nothing like any other language in Europe and Marise says its roots may be in the northern European countries, some Norwegian type. These two organizations are so so similar in fact that they're friends, they fraternize, fleeing to one country or the other when warrants for arrest are awarded. ETA members also take refuge in South American coutries life Venezuela where one worked under Chavez' in the Dept. of Agriculture. (I´ve not looked any of this up, this was just Marise and I talking.)

Interesting stuff.

Our adult talk was ended by Dani's urgent desire for he and I to read. I say this sarcastically because Dani really hates reading in Ingles. I often call it 'Story Time with Dani', and tell him how FUN reading is but he doesnt take the bait. He just stares at me strait faced and unentertained when he says 'Are you speaking seriously?'

Yesterday we found stick on tattoos in bags of Cheetos. Enough said.

Rolling in the Deep- Adele

Raining in Galicia today. I wish I owned a hairbrush.

Addicted to You- Simple Plan

I have as good as gone through this weeks pay at the mall today. One Euro equals about 1.50 at the moment, but knowing this doesnt stop me from paying much more than I would in the States, this HAS to be some side effect of culture shock.

Have you ever seen Shopoholic starring Isla Fisher? See it, its a favorite of mine. Rebecca Bloomwood (Fisher) has a shopping problem and the film opens with her going further into debt by buying a green scarf. This specific purchase becomes symbolic in the movie in that when she gets the job as a financial writer, her pen name is 'The Girl in the Green Scarf'. Not sure when I'll become 'The Girl in the Starry Scarf' but like Rebecca, my movie is just beggining.

I first saw it while shopping in a town called Vigo (FUN FACT: Vigo's port brings in more fish than anywhere in the world apart from Tokyo). We were in one of Spains biggest shops, Zara (pronounced 'Thada') and the shop it so expensive, I didnt even look at the scarf but it caught my eye and I thought about it long after I saw it. So as we passed Zara today in Lugo, I had to inquire. There is was, under the bright lights and smelling like something beautiful, it was marked down to 13 euro...roughly 20 bucks. Never in my life would I spend 20 dollars on a scarf in America. Never. Ever. I'd put it back, I dont spend 20 bucks on anything but jeans...and athletic gear like swimming suits and running shoes. But I really would have regretted it, I love with it. I´m honestly in love with a garment.

Keeping student teaching in mind and the fact that my wardrobe currently consists of only of jeans and T's, the explansion of wardrobe is only necessarry.

The Glory Scarf. No regrets.

I Wanna Know- Phil Collins

Last night we had churros for dinner. It was amazing. Thick hot chocolate and sugar covered, deep fried in front of you churros. Best. Dinner. Ever. Seriously, sorry mom.

Iria told me today that she read my blog. My heart hurt. I was and am so ashamed. I refuse to delete posts because they are a file, a perminent glimpse at the feelings in that moment but I was ashamed. It is my very last wish to offend anyone, but I seem to offend a lot. I think its the ghetto in me.

My only experience at judging livestock is the dairy goat judging I did in high school as an FFA member. (We placed third at state...there were only three teams...) But its here I learned one of lifes great lessons, that apparently hasnt sunk in yet. You never ever point out a flaw in an animal, never mention a negative, you only place an animal over another for its superiority in some area. What wisdom.

And at YMCA camp, at the end of the week during the prayer walk, theres a story that tell kids to carve the good in stone, and the bad in sand. Always remember the good and the good in people, and forget the bad. What wisdom.

As we sat, Iria teaching me spanish her mom brought a geography book of Spain and Iria pointed out Galicia...and its flag. She knows what it means and I like it. The Galician flag is white for purity with a blue strip from the bottom left to the top right to symbolize the sea.

Today Carlos, Dani and I toured As Pontes on bikes. I was scared when I saw Carlos in biking shorts because this means heres serious. I´ve forgotten how fabulous bikes are. Dad always said bikes are the best way to see a place, which is why any vacation ever taken as a family had two bikes in tow. Speaking of Dad, hes looking at flights and wants to come ride El Camino de Santiago...kid hasnt seen Galicia. There are mountains and lots of them, but he tells me, 'You're strong enough to do what we want to do (no crime in walking a hill!).' This boys and girls is what we call delusional, but alas its how my family functions and to be honest its a great thing.

Back to. As Pontes is awesome and I´m ashamed I havent gotten out to see it before now. I think its funny that we stopped to look at two different dams. This is only funny because when Dad and I ride the trail to the Veledrome on friday nights in the summer, we always stop and sit at the dam. They showed me a really great park where I can run in the morning, it comes complete with a statue of Estrella Galicia, the regions beer. At the top of the dam I found the top spot, there were guys kicked the futbol around, and girls in the car blasting the euro music, chillin. Sail boat and kayaks on the water, clouds in the sky, bikes, water, music and chill. What more could you ask for? Then we raced down the mountain, shouting 'Hola's!' to the old men with canes and old women sitting on benches. I like As Pontes, theres a lot to see here, lots of little places to stick your head in and explore, and there are always old people walking around. I cant talk to them much but I like to think if I needed help, theres always someone around, they're just likely to be 80 years old. Nothing wrong with that.

Carlos and I are breaking down the communication barrier. Today he saw me sucking on honeysuckle and asked about it. ALSO! We played basketball. I'm pretty awful but I like to think its the rim. Dinner included bread and a tomato/garlic puree that was amazing. I keep telling them I'm going to make an American meal...but I´'m putting it off, 1. I´m scared I´m going to screw it up without Mom or a grandmother here to help. 2. Its so much work! Ugh, I can do noodles okay but then theres everything else, it just takes forever.

I want to make peach cobbler so while we were at the market, I tried to ask for oats...an almost failure. No one knew what hot cereal, nor oats were and I couldnt explain it, so we went to the cereal aisle, searched and found it. You drain the peaches before you put them in the cobbler right? I know how to do this, its easy and I've done it before, but that a pretty major step I cant seem to remember. But I'm pretty positive you drain them...you have to...I'm sure you have to.

Just got an email from Dad, he had told me the price of tickets and I suggested we wait until the off season for cheaper flights. His response:

Now or never?

The General Specific- Band of Horses

Fourth of July. Spain doesnt have an independence day. Apparently they've always been independent.

I hate that patriotism in American has been taken and made to be...redneck? I am proud to be an American. Iria hates when I say I am an American because the US is only part of north America, so I should not say I am from America, she thinks I should say I am from the United States. Much thought has brought me to the conclusion that I am American. Seeing as I am from America, and if the Chileans want to say they are American, so be it.

Today I was helping Iria study her english, one of the questions I had to ask her was 'Do you know what the symbols of your flag mean?' And she didnt. She said that the flag is something we American are very proud of, but here is Spain it is not a big deal. I dont have the flag painted on my garage or printed on the rear window of my car but hearing her say this made me think of the great pride I DO have in the flag and our country. She often points out the differences, the fact that big cars are not coveted here, everyone gets all of their medical needs for free and our education system is far easier than theirs because their undergrad is 5 years and to teach, they must do a year after that and she must go to the US because it is so much easier. All of this made me feel...well blessed I guess. I know we're overweight. I know we're probs not the most educated. We wear flip flops and floral tops (this is how they spot us apparently). All you know of our entertainment are the trash movies that you call the 'American movies' like 'American Pie' and 'Hot Chick'. And the majority of us only speak one language. (QUICK NOTE: The keyboard is different and I kinda refuse to take the time to figure it out, so punctuation is less than par)

I love that we have an Independence Day. I love that we fought for it and I'm proud that we fight to help others achieve it. I know thats controversial, and it can be argued and America has taken the sides maybe where they dont belong...but maybe we've done right a few times too. And maybe people are really happy we did. And maybe there are thousands that flock to our shores every year because its a great place to be. I am proud. I know what the flag stands for, and while looking at my passport, Iria and Dani asked about the eagle. I was a little surprised they didnt know what it stood for, I thought everyone did...then I realized that maybe I didnt. 'Um, freedom I guess. It was on the endangered species list, but now it isnt. Its the bald eagle. It stands for freedom.'

Life here is good. Its a beautiful country with beautiful people whom I cannot thank enough for their kindness. At the moment the only point of life here I struggle with is the lack of religion. I like going to church every sunday. I love that prayer is said over every meal and I miss that the most.

We may appear to be an overly proud nation, but I like to think our religion, even the DIVERSITY of religious belief, the sheer faith and religious practice Americans hold dear, is what sets us apart. Yes we stand for freedom, justice, and liberty but we stand by faith.