Again, I have let way too much time pass since last I updated. I will try to be better. I have now been back in Madrid for a little less than a month, after spending the holidays at home (which was awesome!) I've pretty much resumed life as usual with teaching, etc., although we do miss having Deirdre here! I am going to start teaching 2 test prep classes soon, so I'll let you know how that goes.
A few other things that have happened: We celebrated our friend Ashley's birthday with a party at our apartment and then went to Kapital, a crazy, 7-story club...
Also, Justin, Emily and I went to Dublin! Last weekend we had Friday off, so we took a quick trip to the Emerald Isle. (Mo went to Granada instead, as she plans to go to Dublin in April). Despite the fact that it was freezing there, we had a good time- the city is so cute and it was really nice to be able to speak English and not feel guilty about it! Of course, the first two things we did when we got there were eat fish and chips and go to the Guinness factory (both of which were delicious but very filling). The Guinness factory features a lot of information about how stout is made, some of which is interesting and some of which is not. Actually, one of the most interesting parts was a video about how they used to make wooden casks before they switched to factory-made metal ones- it's really quite an art form. At the very top, there's the "Gravity Bar," where you can enjoy a sweeping view of the city and a free Guinness!
On Saturday, we explored the sites of the city, including the statue of Oscar Wilde in Merrion Square, the National History Museum- where you can see the "Bog People," the mangled but eerily well-preserved remains of various people who for unknown reasons were brutally murdered then thrown into the bogs anywhere from hundreds to thousands of years ago, as well as the Book of Kells, the statue of Molly Malone, the traditional Dublin doors and Temple Bar. That night, we went to a pub in Temple Bar to listen to some traditional Irish music, including such classics as Whisky in the Jar and The Wild Rover! On Sunday, we walked around St. Stephen's Green and had brunch before taking off on an early afternoon flight. The visit definitely felt too short, but we fell in love with the city nonetheless. You gotta love the Irish brogue, and it was also really cool to see the Moran and Farrell family crests on all sorts of merchandise! (Picasa is being weird right now, so I can't post the pictures, but I will put them up as soon as possible).
Anyway, now we are back in Madrid. As I write this, Mo and I are both home sick after having caught a stomach bug- hopefully we will be fully recuperated by this weekend, as we will be having visitors! Anyway, that's all for now, but I will update again soon, I promise.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
la vie parisienne
The first weekend of December we had a double holiday (!)- Constitution Day and the Feast of the Immaculate Conception- which meant we had a four day weekend! Maureen, Deirdre and I took advantage of the opportunity to have a lovely cousins weekend in Paris. (I know I am very late in posting about this- I've been very lazy lately- last post was actually written by Maureen after a few glasses of wine but I have finally expanded it and added a few more pics!)
We stayed in a lovely two-star hotel in Montmartre, right near the Moulin Rouge- which is, you may know, basically like the red light district. I had stayed in this area last time I was in Paris, and it is really cute, so I assured Mo and Dre that the hotel was in a really nice neighborhood- they were a little skeptical when we emerged from the metro in front of a giant sign that said Sexodrome. They came around though.
It was just our luck that all the museums in Paris decided to have a giant strike so none of them were open. This didn't bother Mo and I too much because we had already been, but we felt bad for Deirdre as it was her first time in Paris. (The Eiffel Tower was open but once we saw the line to get to the top, Mo and I assured Dre that it wasn't really all that great). It was kind of nice though in that we got to spend a lot more time walking around. It was colder than Madrid, but besides one day of rain we had good weather. Given her love of history, Mo was really excited to walk to the Bastille when she saw it on the map. Imagine her disappointment when we arrived and remembered that the Bastille had been destroyed way back in, like, the 18th century and all that remained was a memorial sculpture and a modern opera house. (Incidentally, if you ever wanted to know where punk ass Parisian teenagers gather to smoke pot and drink boxed wine it's under the electronics store next to what was once the Bastille). After that disappointment, we spent the afternoon wandering around the Marais, which is a very cute neighborhood.
In addition to strolling Paris's beautiful streets and taking in the sights, we ate lots of delicious food. On Friday night, Maureen took us to a fondue place she'd gone to before where they serve wine in baby bottles- tres chic. On Saturday and Sunday we met up with Van, Mo's friend from high school who is working as an au pair in a town an hour outside of Paris, and his sister, Brie, who was visiting him. Both of them are major foodies so they had looked up all of the best places to go. Two nights in a row we had very delicious and very French food at very cute and very French bistros- tres tres chic.
Though Paris is of course amazing, it was admittedly a bit of a relief to come back to Madrid, where we at least have a basic grasp of the language. In Paris, we tried our best to get around with "oui," "merci," and "trois" with little success- though luckily most Parisians were pretty nice about speaking English to us, despite their reputation (I think the key is to attempt to speak in French that is so hopelessly bad that it's kind of cute, or at least pitiful.) I was hoping that the few weeks of Rosetta Stone French I'd done a few summers ago might come in handy but sadly nothing about a young girl on a horse ever came up.
Unfortunately, my camera batteries were dying so I don't have a ton of pics, but here they are:
We stayed in a lovely two-star hotel in Montmartre, right near the Moulin Rouge- which is, you may know, basically like the red light district. I had stayed in this area last time I was in Paris, and it is really cute, so I assured Mo and Dre that the hotel was in a really nice neighborhood- they were a little skeptical when we emerged from the metro in front of a giant sign that said Sexodrome. They came around though.
It was just our luck that all the museums in Paris decided to have a giant strike so none of them were open. This didn't bother Mo and I too much because we had already been, but we felt bad for Deirdre as it was her first time in Paris. (The Eiffel Tower was open but once we saw the line to get to the top, Mo and I assured Dre that it wasn't really all that great). It was kind of nice though in that we got to spend a lot more time walking around. It was colder than Madrid, but besides one day of rain we had good weather. Given her love of history, Mo was really excited to walk to the Bastille when she saw it on the map. Imagine her disappointment when we arrived and remembered that the Bastille had been destroyed way back in, like, the 18th century and all that remained was a memorial sculpture and a modern opera house. (Incidentally, if you ever wanted to know where punk ass Parisian teenagers gather to smoke pot and drink boxed wine it's under the electronics store next to what was once the Bastille). After that disappointment, we spent the afternoon wandering around the Marais, which is a very cute neighborhood.
In addition to strolling Paris's beautiful streets and taking in the sights, we ate lots of delicious food. On Friday night, Maureen took us to a fondue place she'd gone to before where they serve wine in baby bottles- tres chic. On Saturday and Sunday we met up with Van, Mo's friend from high school who is working as an au pair in a town an hour outside of Paris, and his sister, Brie, who was visiting him. Both of them are major foodies so they had looked up all of the best places to go. Two nights in a row we had very delicious and very French food at very cute and very French bistros- tres tres chic.
Though Paris is of course amazing, it was admittedly a bit of a relief to come back to Madrid, where we at least have a basic grasp of the language. In Paris, we tried our best to get around with "oui," "merci," and "trois" with little success- though luckily most Parisians were pretty nice about speaking English to us, despite their reputation (I think the key is to attempt to speak in French that is so hopelessly bad that it's kind of cute, or at least pitiful.) I was hoping that the few weeks of Rosetta Stone French I'd done a few summers ago might come in handy but sadly nothing about a young girl on a horse ever came up.
Unfortunately, my camera batteries were dying so I don't have a ton of pics, but here they are:
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| Paris, je t'aime |
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Takeoffs & Landings
Okay, so what did Mo and I do last Saturday? We flew planes!
Maria Carmen, the teacher from Maureen's school who is inexplicably nice to us, took us to La Mancha, where her brother flies small planes. We stopped first in Tembleque, a small little manchegan town, which was very cute.
Mo's teacher asked her to come watch her brother fly a plane (and after a subsequent translational blunder) we were flying planes in the sky!
After a brief explanation of the plane's machinations in Spanish, we were off!
Maureen took off into the sunny sky in a two enginer, whilst I took off in an engineless "glider." The only question they asked me was my name and my weight and that was the extent of my training. Fortunately, there was a parachute in the case of catastrophe. Unfortunately, I didn't actually ask how to use it, thus making it only extra weight that would propel me to the ground even faster. Luckily, I didn't need it. The small planes are actually incredibly safe, much safer than a commercial flight, and Maria Carmen's brother's job is to do safety inspections on airplanes at the Barcelona airport, so we were in good hands.
The plane that I flew had to be towed into the air by a plane with an engine, which then cut loose from us once we were at a safe height. Though I was in the front and theoretically in control of the plane, I'm pretty sure the instructor in the back had some kind of master control panel in case anything happened. Controlling the plane simple consisted of manuevering a clutch and pushing two pedals up and down. Once I got the handle of turning left and right, we did a few tricks, including letting the plane hang still in the air until it quivers and drops, which is pretty cool. (Again, I'm pretty sure the pilot guy was actually in control this whole time). Landing was a bit of a harrowing experience as the engineless plane cannot land on the paved landing strip so you have to cruise as low above the ground as possible without actually touching it before scraping down on the rough earth.
Maureen went up with Maria Carmen's brother in a plane that did have an engine, so she got to go much higher and farther. Both of us got an amazing view of the manchegan countryside, which, though very flat and relatively barren, is also quite beautiful with its olive trees and rich green and brown coloring. Though by the end of the day we still found ourselves wondering how we'd ended up on an airstrip in the middle of Spain, it was definitely a pretty unforgettable experience!
Maria Carmen, the teacher from Maureen's school who is inexplicably nice to us, took us to La Mancha, where her brother flies small planes. We stopped first in Tembleque, a small little manchegan town, which was very cute.
Mo's teacher asked her to come watch her brother fly a plane (and after a subsequent translational blunder) we were flying planes in the sky!
After a brief explanation of the plane's machinations in Spanish, we were off!
Maureen took off into the sunny sky in a two enginer, whilst I took off in an engineless "glider." The only question they asked me was my name and my weight and that was the extent of my training. Fortunately, there was a parachute in the case of catastrophe. Unfortunately, I didn't actually ask how to use it, thus making it only extra weight that would propel me to the ground even faster. Luckily, I didn't need it. The small planes are actually incredibly safe, much safer than a commercial flight, and Maria Carmen's brother's job is to do safety inspections on airplanes at the Barcelona airport, so we were in good hands.
The plane that I flew had to be towed into the air by a plane with an engine, which then cut loose from us once we were at a safe height. Though I was in the front and theoretically in control of the plane, I'm pretty sure the instructor in the back had some kind of master control panel in case anything happened. Controlling the plane simple consisted of manuevering a clutch and pushing two pedals up and down. Once I got the handle of turning left and right, we did a few tricks, including letting the plane hang still in the air until it quivers and drops, which is pretty cool. (Again, I'm pretty sure the pilot guy was actually in control this whole time). Landing was a bit of a harrowing experience as the engineless plane cannot land on the paved landing strip so you have to cruise as low above the ground as possible without actually touching it before scraping down on the rough earth.
Maureen went up with Maria Carmen's brother in a plane that did have an engine, so she got to go much higher and farther. Both of us got an amazing view of the manchegan countryside, which, though very flat and relatively barren, is also quite beautiful with its olive trees and rich green and brown coloring. Though by the end of the day we still found ourselves wondering how we'd ended up on an airstrip in the middle of Spain, it was definitely a pretty unforgettable experience!
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| En un lugar de La Mancha... |
Monday, November 30, 2009
Holiday Cheer
As you might imagine (or know from experience), Thanksgiving away from home can be kind of sad. Especially since virtually no other culture acknowledges this sacred American ritual (or even has anything more than a vague awareness of it). Lucky for me, though I was thousands of miles from home, I still got to spend Thanksgiving with two of my cousins, as well as several of the great American friends I've met here in Madrid. And despite this country's general ignorance of the awesomeness of Thanksgiving (or "Dia de Accion de Gracias" as the Spanish ever so succinctly translate it), I was still able to get in the spirit by teaching my kids all about the holiday. This included showing them pictures of all the traditional Thanksgiving foods- which they generally interpreted as American versions of foods they were familiar with, calling the stuffing "migas," the potatoes "puree," the cranberries cherries, and the pie cake- the yams they were pretty stumped on though, hah! (Maureen's kids interpreted the picture of pilgrims as "brujas.") It also included indoctrinating them with an overly simplified and largely disproven version of the story of the first Thanksgiving. Only one of my more advanced classes finally thought to ask, "If they were so thankful to the Indians, why did they kill them all?"
On Thanksgiving night (which in Spain was just Thursday night), Maureen, Deirdre, Emily, Justin and I went to an Italian cafe that serves Thanksgiving dinner. Though an Italian cafe in Madrid might not sound like the ideal place to find an authentic Thanksgiving dinner, they actually have an American chef so it was very authentic and delicious. (I had gone there for Thanksgiving when I was abroad so I knew it was good). Of course, no matter how delicious and authentic it was, a restaurant meal could never compare to a home-cooked Thanksgiving feast. But not to worry, we were not to be deprived of this crucial aspect of Thanksgiving: Our wonderful and ambitious friend Justin organized a full-on feast at our friends Mateo and Ashley's apartment. Among the four of them, Justin, Emily, Mateo and Ashley prepared an amazing roast turkey, gravy, stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole and biscuits, all of which were delicious. Maureen and I together were given only the responsibility of making the yams and bringing lots of wine- you can tell where they think our strengths lie. To be honest, I was a little skeptical of how authentic the meal would be, not because I doubted my friends' cooking abilities but because so many key ingredients are very hard to come by in Spain (the whole idea being that Thanksgiving foods are native to America), but much to my surprise, our meal was very delicious and not lacking a single thing!
Though it's always sad when Thanksgiving's over, it also means that you get to start celebrating Christmas! Maureen and I celebrated on Sunday by spending the whole day watching Christmas movies then taking an evening stroll to view all the beautiful Christmas lights-the center of Madrid is all dressed up for Christmas with lights and giant trees everywhere. We also got in the spirit by getting seasonal Christmas drinks at Starbucks and going to an advent mass at a beautiful old church near Sol (the first time we had seen the inside of a Starbucks or a church since arriving.)
One unrelated but (to us) very exciting incident: Maureen and I went to one of the bars in our neighborhood on Friday night. After having ordered several rounds of food and drinks, Maureen went to the bar to pay. As she did not have the right change, she called "Genny" across the room to get me to come over. The bartender looked at her in surprise. "Where are you from?" he asked; "the US," Maureen responded; his response? "OH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE SPANISH." (caps not meant to convey yelling but just the utter amazingness of his response). That's right, somebody thought we were Spanish! This one single event - perhaps the crowning acheivement of our entire time in Spain- made up for all the language gaffes we've made over the past few months, all the times people have responded to our accented Spanish with disdain and condescension. As we walked home we were literally jumping for joy, provoking stares from passersby and encouragement from the nearby construction workers. The only sad part is we actually like that bar and now we can never go back there lest we accidentally shatter our image as perfect Spanish-speakers.
Well, that covers a lot of what's been going on here lately, except what we did on Saturday. That adventure merits its own post. Stay tuned...
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| Holidays in Spain |
On Thanksgiving night (which in Spain was just Thursday night), Maureen, Deirdre, Emily, Justin and I went to an Italian cafe that serves Thanksgiving dinner. Though an Italian cafe in Madrid might not sound like the ideal place to find an authentic Thanksgiving dinner, they actually have an American chef so it was very authentic and delicious. (I had gone there for Thanksgiving when I was abroad so I knew it was good). Of course, no matter how delicious and authentic it was, a restaurant meal could never compare to a home-cooked Thanksgiving feast. But not to worry, we were not to be deprived of this crucial aspect of Thanksgiving: Our wonderful and ambitious friend Justin organized a full-on feast at our friends Mateo and Ashley's apartment. Among the four of them, Justin, Emily, Mateo and Ashley prepared an amazing roast turkey, gravy, stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole and biscuits, all of which were delicious. Maureen and I together were given only the responsibility of making the yams and bringing lots of wine- you can tell where they think our strengths lie. To be honest, I was a little skeptical of how authentic the meal would be, not because I doubted my friends' cooking abilities but because so many key ingredients are very hard to come by in Spain (the whole idea being that Thanksgiving foods are native to America), but much to my surprise, our meal was very delicious and not lacking a single thing!
Though it's always sad when Thanksgiving's over, it also means that you get to start celebrating Christmas! Maureen and I celebrated on Sunday by spending the whole day watching Christmas movies then taking an evening stroll to view all the beautiful Christmas lights-the center of Madrid is all dressed up for Christmas with lights and giant trees everywhere. We also got in the spirit by getting seasonal Christmas drinks at Starbucks and going to an advent mass at a beautiful old church near Sol (the first time we had seen the inside of a Starbucks or a church since arriving.)
One unrelated but (to us) very exciting incident: Maureen and I went to one of the bars in our neighborhood on Friday night. After having ordered several rounds of food and drinks, Maureen went to the bar to pay. As she did not have the right change, she called "Genny" across the room to get me to come over. The bartender looked at her in surprise. "Where are you from?" he asked; "the US," Maureen responded; his response? "OH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE SPANISH." (caps not meant to convey yelling but just the utter amazingness of his response). That's right, somebody thought we were Spanish! This one single event - perhaps the crowning acheivement of our entire time in Spain- made up for all the language gaffes we've made over the past few months, all the times people have responded to our accented Spanish with disdain and condescension. As we walked home we were literally jumping for joy, provoking stares from passersby and encouragement from the nearby construction workers. The only sad part is we actually like that bar and now we can never go back there lest we accidentally shatter our image as perfect Spanish-speakers.
Well, that covers a lot of what's been going on here lately, except what we did on Saturday. That adventure merits its own post. Stay tuned...
Saturday, November 21, 2009
it's been forever...
Ok, so it is time to write more about life in Madrid, not because anything particularly interesting has happened, or because it has just been way too long, or because some of my fellow bloggers are putting me to shame, but because the Captain says so.
I do feel bad that it has been so long since my last update. My silence is due partly to the fact that my computer broke awhile ago and I have only just recently gotten a new one (thanks Mom!). But it's also because I have become pretty settled into my life here, which, though it doesn't make for interesting blog posts, is a good thing (I think). To make matters worse, I've been really bad about taking pictures lately, and I suspect the pictures are the most (if not the only) interesting part of this blog. That being said, I'll try to entertain you with a few anecdotes from the past month or so.
One interesting thing we did was take a really fun trip to Avila. A few weeks ago we had a long weekend, so Maureen, Emily, Justin and I decided to do a day trip there on Sunday. We'd read that you could take the Cercanias- which is the equivalent of the commuter rail- so we decided to meet Justin at the Atocha train station- which is sort of the equivalent of Grand Central/South Station and is only about a 15 minute walk from our apartment-naively assuming that the train would leave from there. After asking around at several ticket windows, we were finally told that the train to Avila actually leaves from the Chamartin station, way up in the northern part of the city. Not to worry though, if we took the Cercanias we could get there pretty quickly and still make the 11:00 train. Well, we were not about to be fooled by this advice. The Cercanias costs several euros more than the metro, and we were only about 47 stops away from Chamartin...
Needless to say, about an hour and a half later four proudly frugal but ticketless travelers shuffled out of the Chamartin station into some God-forsaken part of northern Madrid. Thankfully, the day was not ruined, as Justin knew of a cool- and free- photography exhibit taking place nearby, featuring the work of Rodchenko, a Russian revolutionary/ revolutionary Russian photographer. It was sweet.
So yeah, Avila was awesome- maybe we'll go again sometime.
The past two weekends have been fun but also somewhat lonely because Maureen and Deirdre keep ditching me. Last weekend was especially sad because I had to miss my cousin Aileen's wedding. M & D- being bridesmaids and all- of course flew home for it but sadly for me it was just not in the cards. Despite feeling sad about this all weekend, I did have fun hanging out with Emily, Justin and their friends Mateo and Ashley. This weekend, mis primas are in London, a trip I opted out of because London is mad expensive and I have already been there. Although I again wish I could be there with them, they are also missing out on a good time here: Last night Emily and I went to a Finnish Christmas party! Molly, Emily's friend from Tufts who is also an auxiliar, lives with a Finnish girl whose husband was visiting this weekend, so they decided to throw a party. It included Finnish pastries, which are delicious, and Finnish vodka, which is strong. There was also a traditional Finnish gift exchange. I guess those were really the only Finnish elements to it, but it was very fun. Also, Finnish is a really interesting language to listen to.
And with that, this post is finnished! (sorry) I am going to start taking lots of pictures and I will put them up very soon!
I do feel bad that it has been so long since my last update. My silence is due partly to the fact that my computer broke awhile ago and I have only just recently gotten a new one (thanks Mom!). But it's also because I have become pretty settled into my life here, which, though it doesn't make for interesting blog posts, is a good thing (I think). To make matters worse, I've been really bad about taking pictures lately, and I suspect the pictures are the most (if not the only) interesting part of this blog. That being said, I'll try to entertain you with a few anecdotes from the past month or so.
One interesting thing we did was take a really fun trip to Avila. A few weeks ago we had a long weekend, so Maureen, Emily, Justin and I decided to do a day trip there on Sunday. We'd read that you could take the Cercanias- which is the equivalent of the commuter rail- so we decided to meet Justin at the Atocha train station- which is sort of the equivalent of Grand Central/South Station and is only about a 15 minute walk from our apartment-naively assuming that the train would leave from there. After asking around at several ticket windows, we were finally told that the train to Avila actually leaves from the Chamartin station, way up in the northern part of the city. Not to worry though, if we took the Cercanias we could get there pretty quickly and still make the 11:00 train. Well, we were not about to be fooled by this advice. The Cercanias costs several euros more than the metro, and we were only about 47 stops away from Chamartin...
Needless to say, about an hour and a half later four proudly frugal but ticketless travelers shuffled out of the Chamartin station into some God-forsaken part of northern Madrid. Thankfully, the day was not ruined, as Justin knew of a cool- and free- photography exhibit taking place nearby, featuring the work of Rodchenko, a Russian revolutionary/ revolutionary Russian photographer. It was sweet.
So yeah, Avila was awesome- maybe we'll go again sometime.
The past two weekends have been fun but also somewhat lonely because Maureen and Deirdre keep ditching me. Last weekend was especially sad because I had to miss my cousin Aileen's wedding. M & D- being bridesmaids and all- of course flew home for it but sadly for me it was just not in the cards. Despite feeling sad about this all weekend, I did have fun hanging out with Emily, Justin and their friends Mateo and Ashley. This weekend, mis primas are in London, a trip I opted out of because London is mad expensive and I have already been there. Although I again wish I could be there with them, they are also missing out on a good time here: Last night Emily and I went to a Finnish Christmas party! Molly, Emily's friend from Tufts who is also an auxiliar, lives with a Finnish girl whose husband was visiting this weekend, so they decided to throw a party. It included Finnish pastries, which are delicious, and Finnish vodka, which is strong. There was also a traditional Finnish gift exchange. I guess those were really the only Finnish elements to it, but it was very fun. Also, Finnish is a really interesting language to listen to.
And with that, this post is finnished! (sorry) I am going to start taking lots of pictures and I will put them up very soon!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
toros y mas
La vida madrilena continues to go well. Maureen, Emily and I have all begun to settle in to the routine of teaching and are tired a lot of the time but also really enjoying it. Our Spanish is very slowly but (we think) surely getting better. Here are some pics from last weekend's adventures (narrated below).
On Friday my school did not have classes because we were celebrating the feast day of some saint. Each class went on a field trip to somewhere in Madrid; I went with the 4th level kids (sophomores) to the Retiro (it's a big park). I wasn't looking forward to it too much because I thought we'd have to do activities with the kids in the park all day, but as it turned out we teachers just gave the kids some instructions for a scavenger hunt (not as exciting as it sounds- it involved finding religious statues and writing about how they related to the saint) and ditched the kids. It was fun hanging out with some of the teachers outside of school. After the kids left we went to Plaza Mayor and had a picnic of calamari bocadillos and clara (beer with lemon).
On Friday night we went to a sweet concert in a small club with a few of Emily's friends. One of them knew the manager of the band- a Cuban group called Havana Abierta (download them! they're really good!)
On Saturday, Maureen's principal Maria Carmen took Mo and me to a performance of Footloose at a high school near their school. Although high school musicals aren't as common here, this school is known for having really good ones. Indeed, the performance-acting, singing, dancing, everything- was really impressive! Though they kept the English title of the play, everything was translated into Spanish- so instead of "gonna cut loose, footloose," you have "yo quiero bailar, bailar" - it was kind of comical.
Finally, on Sunday, we went to a bullfight. It was one of the last ones of the season, so it featured younger and less experienced toreros fighting younger and smaller bulls and was sparsely attended. Since bullfighting is not too popular among the current generation of Spaniards, the crowd that does turn up is mostly old Spanish men who heckle the whole time and tourists. Luckily we bought the cheapest tickets and were up at the very top, so we were sitting with the heckling men who seemed to actually know what was going on (unfortunately, this also means my pictures are not very good).
This was my second time at a bullfight but Maureen and Emily's first. It is definitely kind of jarring at first but you get over it pretty quickly. On the one hand, you are basically watching an innocent animal being tortured and killed. They give the bull a good stab in the back before he even gets into the ring so that he is already weakened and the torero has lots of helpers who distract the bull and men on horses with long spears who come out to help stab him- so the torero is really given a big advantage. And despite the stereotypes of bulls as angry, aggressive animals, they are really only like this when provoked. When he first comes out, the bull just stands placidly in the middle of the ring looking like he wouldn't hurt a fly. It is only when they taunt him with bright red and pink capes and stab him multiple times that he becomes aggressive. It also does take a long time and many stabs for the bull to actually die (they're incredibly resilient/strong) and when his legs do finally collapse underneath him it's a little heartbreaking. Then horses drag the corpse of the once majestic animal out of the ring, leaving a trail of blood in the dust.
So why would anyone take pleasure in this sadistic show of torture? Well, in addition to these unnerving aspects, there's also a lot of tradition and ritual involved- in fact, many consider bullfighting a form of art. (I could try to describe this tradition and ritual and art but I think you'd be better off just reading some Hemingway). Although the torero's goal is to kill the bull, he also has to respect the bull. If he doesn't stab in just the right place, thus prolonging the bull's death, everyone boos- we witnessed this with one of the toreros we saw, who really stuggled to kill the thing. People also cheer whenever the bull has any kind of victory- one of the ones we saw was really smart and managed to jump over the wall of the ring and run around the outer ring separating the crowd from the bull ring for a good 30 seconds before he was caught. Later he actually knocked over one of the horses with the stabber guy on it and headbutted him several times. (You do have to feel pretty bad for the horses- they are blindfolded and heavily armored- and likely sedated- so they won't scare, but they often are attacked by the bull and of course have no idea what's going on). Anyway, ultimately I think bullfighting is not as inhumane as it seems. The bull meat is sold at a pretty high price, and if you think about it, most of the other meat we eat is not slaughtered with nearly as much reverence. Also, the sparkly costumes are pretty great.
Ramblings on bullfights aside, the weekend was a good one, despite the fact that Deirdre ditched us for Barcelona! I would give you updates on the week so far, but nothing interesting has happened. I'll let you know if it does.
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| mas madrid |
On Friday my school did not have classes because we were celebrating the feast day of some saint. Each class went on a field trip to somewhere in Madrid; I went with the 4th level kids (sophomores) to the Retiro (it's a big park). I wasn't looking forward to it too much because I thought we'd have to do activities with the kids in the park all day, but as it turned out we teachers just gave the kids some instructions for a scavenger hunt (not as exciting as it sounds- it involved finding religious statues and writing about how they related to the saint) and ditched the kids. It was fun hanging out with some of the teachers outside of school. After the kids left we went to Plaza Mayor and had a picnic of calamari bocadillos and clara (beer with lemon).
On Friday night we went to a sweet concert in a small club with a few of Emily's friends. One of them knew the manager of the band- a Cuban group called Havana Abierta (download them! they're really good!)
On Saturday, Maureen's principal Maria Carmen took Mo and me to a performance of Footloose at a high school near their school. Although high school musicals aren't as common here, this school is known for having really good ones. Indeed, the performance-acting, singing, dancing, everything- was really impressive! Though they kept the English title of the play, everything was translated into Spanish- so instead of "gonna cut loose, footloose," you have "yo quiero bailar, bailar" - it was kind of comical.
Finally, on Sunday, we went to a bullfight. It was one of the last ones of the season, so it featured younger and less experienced toreros fighting younger and smaller bulls and was sparsely attended. Since bullfighting is not too popular among the current generation of Spaniards, the crowd that does turn up is mostly old Spanish men who heckle the whole time and tourists. Luckily we bought the cheapest tickets and were up at the very top, so we were sitting with the heckling men who seemed to actually know what was going on (unfortunately, this also means my pictures are not very good).
This was my second time at a bullfight but Maureen and Emily's first. It is definitely kind of jarring at first but you get over it pretty quickly. On the one hand, you are basically watching an innocent animal being tortured and killed. They give the bull a good stab in the back before he even gets into the ring so that he is already weakened and the torero has lots of helpers who distract the bull and men on horses with long spears who come out to help stab him- so the torero is really given a big advantage. And despite the stereotypes of bulls as angry, aggressive animals, they are really only like this when provoked. When he first comes out, the bull just stands placidly in the middle of the ring looking like he wouldn't hurt a fly. It is only when they taunt him with bright red and pink capes and stab him multiple times that he becomes aggressive. It also does take a long time and many stabs for the bull to actually die (they're incredibly resilient/strong) and when his legs do finally collapse underneath him it's a little heartbreaking. Then horses drag the corpse of the once majestic animal out of the ring, leaving a trail of blood in the dust.
So why would anyone take pleasure in this sadistic show of torture? Well, in addition to these unnerving aspects, there's also a lot of tradition and ritual involved- in fact, many consider bullfighting a form of art. (I could try to describe this tradition and ritual and art but I think you'd be better off just reading some Hemingway). Although the torero's goal is to kill the bull, he also has to respect the bull. If he doesn't stab in just the right place, thus prolonging the bull's death, everyone boos- we witnessed this with one of the toreros we saw, who really stuggled to kill the thing. People also cheer whenever the bull has any kind of victory- one of the ones we saw was really smart and managed to jump over the wall of the ring and run around the outer ring separating the crowd from the bull ring for a good 30 seconds before he was caught. Later he actually knocked over one of the horses with the stabber guy on it and headbutted him several times. (You do have to feel pretty bad for the horses- they are blindfolded and heavily armored- and likely sedated- so they won't scare, but they often are attacked by the bull and of course have no idea what's going on). Anyway, ultimately I think bullfighting is not as inhumane as it seems. The bull meat is sold at a pretty high price, and if you think about it, most of the other meat we eat is not slaughtered with nearly as much reverence. Also, the sparkly costumes are pretty great.
Ramblings on bullfights aside, the weekend was a good one, despite the fact that Deirdre ditched us for Barcelona! I would give you updates on the week so far, but nothing interesting has happened. I'll let you know if it does.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Long Weekend!
Time for another update from Madrid! Although today is Monday, I am writing not after a long day of work but after a day of relaxation, shopping and chocolate con churros. That's right, today was a national holiday in Spain- it's called Puente de Pilar and is some kind of nationalist holiday that involves a huge military parade. Maureen and Deirdre learned of this when they heard low-flying planes practicing on Friday and were on the verge of fleeing to the nearest Metro station, convinced that we were being attacked. Those of us who actually have to work on Fridays were unaware of this, but I really can't complain because we just had a 3 day weekend! We got to relax, go out, and hang out with Deirdre, our roomate Emily, and our friend Caitlin, who is also an auxiliar in our program.
Emily and Maureen
Maureen and Caitlin
Teaching continues to go well. The lesson plan I am using now involves using songs and lyrics to help with listening and teach new vocab and cultural concepts- who knew Avril Lavigne's "Sk8er Boi" could be such a useful ESL tool? The songs "Hey There Delilah" and "Viva la Vida" have also been successful, but I've definitely gotten the most mileage out of Sk8er Boi- it brings up lots of vocab and idiomatic phrases such as "punk" and "stuck up their nose," while also teaching valuable lessons about life, love and acceptance. Maureen's teaching is also going well, although she has one troublemaker named Arron, who asks her if she's ever been to the "house of the boys who play" (Playboy Mansion) and according to the other teachers is part gypsy (always a sign of trouble to Spainards).
Anyway, that's pretty much all that's new here. Unfortunately, the news from home is not as good. I am definitely grieving the Red Sox ALDS loss though I am many miles away. I was so excitd that yesterday's game was on at noon EST (6 pm our time) because that meant I might be able to watch it. By the time we got back from our trip, though, it was already the 7th inning, so I had to watch victory slipping away in the form of mlb.com updates. And on top of that the Pats lost last night! Sad times. Oh well, I guess I should start getting into Real Madrid instead.
Emily and Maureen
Maureen and CaitlinYesterday, Maria Carmen, the principal of Maureen's school, took Maureen, Deirdre and me on a day trip to two little towns outside Madrid: Aranjuez, where the king and queen's summer palace is (though the current monarchs don't use it), and Chinchon (it's fun to say), which is a very cute, very old little town with lots of pretty, well-worn architecture and rustic little taverns. Check out the pics:
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| Aranjuez y Chinchon |
Maria Carmen is really nice and generous and has sort of taken Maureen- and consequently me and Deirdre- under her wing and decided to show us lots of different places while we're here. Next weekend, she is taking us to a musical and she has also offered to take us to Salamanca and other places in the future. We're not sure why she's so nice to us but we're not complaining!
We also went to the Reina Sofia museum this weekend- home to Picasso's Guernica among other masterpieces.
Teaching continues to go well. The lesson plan I am using now involves using songs and lyrics to help with listening and teach new vocab and cultural concepts- who knew Avril Lavigne's "Sk8er Boi" could be such a useful ESL tool? The songs "Hey There Delilah" and "Viva la Vida" have also been successful, but I've definitely gotten the most mileage out of Sk8er Boi- it brings up lots of vocab and idiomatic phrases such as "punk" and "stuck up their nose," while also teaching valuable lessons about life, love and acceptance. Maureen's teaching is also going well, although she has one troublemaker named Arron, who asks her if she's ever been to the "house of the boys who play" (Playboy Mansion) and according to the other teachers is part gypsy (always a sign of trouble to Spainards).
Anyway, that's pretty much all that's new here. Unfortunately, the news from home is not as good. I am definitely grieving the Red Sox ALDS loss though I am many miles away. I was so excitd that yesterday's game was on at noon EST (6 pm our time) because that meant I might be able to watch it. By the time we got back from our trip, though, it was already the 7th inning, so I had to watch victory slipping away in the form of mlb.com updates. And on top of that the Pats lost last night! Sad times. Oh well, I guess I should start getting into Real Madrid instead.
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