The past few weeks (wow, forgive the elapsed time between posts!) have been marked, more than anything, by a healthily-growing Spanish social life that is now robust and really rewarding. Instead of attempting to chronicle the happenings of my life in a chronological way, I think it might be more interesting to group paragraphs around a person with whom I have spent significant time in the past so that you can all see what has been happening to my social life.
Essentially, after being in Spain for three months, I finally have the vast majority of my social life with Spaniards, and it has been a really gratifying experience to get to know these fascinating, good-hearted people. From time to time it is frustrating for me when I feel like I can't communicate with the same level of wit, humor, or nuance of meaning as I could in English, but that is also part of what is so thrilling about having friendships in a foreign language--you are forced to express your emotions, thoughts, and happenings in a second system of codes, and when you do so successfully the attendant sense of accomplishment and interpersonal connection is extremely rich. All of those years of studying irregular past tense verbs, the subjunctive, random vocabulary units and the impersonal "se" pay off enormously when you connect souls with a Spaniard through the medium of the Castilian tongue.
Ana is one of my best friends here in Spain, and she and I have had some wonderful times together. She invited me to see a film, El árbol de la vida, which she prefaced as being existentialist and somewhat strange. The film was atypical, but it was extremely well done and the strangest thing about it was to discover upon entering the theater that it was actually an American film, The Tree of Life, which had been given a Spanish title and subtitles but which played in the original English. Some of the translations of movies and books are really straightforward--Amanecer just come out as the latest installment of the Crepúsculo series, for example (Breaking Dawn and Twilight, respectively). Others, however, are much less straightforward, like I learned in the conversation I had about a movie called Hacia rutas salvajes (literally something like Towards Wild Routes) that I kept thinking reminded me of Into the Wild until later I realized that it was, in fact, the same movie. It's always interesting to see how these things get translated. Anyway, Ana and I have had some great times together. One evening we went out for some delicious Mexican food (I almost consider Mexican food my home food while here in Spain since it's so prevalent in the United States) and then a cup of tea, all of which was accompanied by good, soul-nourishing conversations. Another day, I went with her a little ways out of the center of the city to help her pick up a car, so I got to drive a nice Audi on the Madrid highway, and it felt amazing to be behind the wheel after months of no contact with a car! She and I have also been sustaining an intellectual friendship--she lends me books like an anthropologist's perspective on adolescent immigrants in the USA (La infancia de la inmigración), a collection of short poems on life, death, identity and love (Piedras del camino) and such. She and I are also re-reading San Manuel Bueno, mártir, one of my favorite short novella's by Miguel de Unamuno that really affected me when I first read it in Mrs. Chamberlain's AP Spanish Literature class. Cultivating a friendship with her has been very rich to say the least.
The other family to whom I teach English classes, Ruth (the mother), Eugenio (the father), and Adriana (the daughter) have also been particularly nice to me. Noticing that one day I was wearing glasses and not contacts during our class, they inquired and I told them that my left contact occasionally causes me pain. They then took it upon themselves to make me an appointment with an eye specialist, and Eugenio accompanied me there to make sure he didn't try to force me to buy any expensive glasses or contacts. Afterward, we all ate olives and almonds and just talked about religion, politics, and other classy subjects fit for polite conversation. :) (Rest assured that my eye is completely fine.) They have also invited me to a dinner for Ruth's birthday next week where I will meet their oldest son. It's unbelievable how caring and open Spaniards are, and this family is no exception.
In Carmen Martín Gaite, the high school where I work, I have become close friends with one teacher named Benito. He's just a super nice, chill guy, and we always enjoy talking when we have a free hour together or during the brief "recreo" (recess break) that the kids have everyday. He invited me to come spend the day with him in the small town where he lives in the far north of the Comunidad de Madrid, the autonomous region of Madrid and its surrounding cities in the center of the Iberian Peninsula. I caught a bus on Sunday morning out to Miraflores de la Sierra ("Flower-looker of the Mountains"--what a beautiful name, eh?) and spent a wonderful day there with him and his family. The city is small and mountainous and quaint in the way that I always imagined Europe would be. The day was foggy which actually gave the entire experience a Lord of the Rings majesty that was unforgettable. Benito gave me a tour of the small town, showing me the central plaza, the bull-fighting ring, and the large tree trunk about which a famous poet once composed a verse. He then took me into his home and introduced me to his wife, one of the nicest, most hospitable people I've ever met, and his two kids, both adorable little munchkins. They also have a dog to whom I took a special liking. Benito's wife Nichol had prepared so much delicious food that I can't even remember all that we ate. We started with appetizers of steamed mussels and olives. We then ate "langostinos a la plancha" (big shrimp that are cooked on a grill) which were so good and made me feel really bad that Dad had his favorite food robbed from him by the development of his allergy. We also had a paella that was made with small noodles instead of rice and had a whole bunch of different types of seafood in it. Dessert was a "tarta de Santiago" (Saint James's cake), a delicious almond cake that hit the spot after such an amazing meal. We spent the afternoon and evening talking, walking around the city, and just having fun. I returned late that night so grateful for the hospitality that this beautiful family showed me. It felt really good to be in a small, Laramie-like town and to have a domestic day rather than the busy, young, city days that I am used to having here in Madrid.
I have also become closer with a woman who teaches technology in my school named Laura. She and I have begun the tradition of eating lunch together every Thursday, and it's been a blast. She has led a really interesting life and has an attitude that, though almost slightly cynical and very practical, I find really engaging and refreshing. She's been wonderful.
To help ease the pain of being away from our loved ones on Thanksgiving Day, the teachers at my school surprised the Americans with a Thanksgiving feast in the faculty lounge. I was so surprised and happy that I couldn't take the smile off of my face. We all ate a lot of food and celebrated an American holiday that I really missed this year even though I made some priceless memories.
Ali has continued to be a source of deep friendship, laughter, and wonderful human connection. She is such an amazing woman, and she has really listened to me as I consider some of my possibilities for the future. Her mom and sister came to visit her in Madrid, and I was lucky to get to spend some time with them. We toured the Palacio Real, had a picnic outside of the Prado art museum before entering and seeing some great art, and even enjoyed some "churros con chocolate" in Madrid's famous churrería. It was wonderful to connect with such a brilliant, loving family (from San Francisco, no less), and it was really great to understand Ali better by seeing her genetic and familial roots.
Kelly, my roommate, has also been a constant source of support and mirth. She has had the good heart to cook multiple groups of Spaniards ornate, involved Thanksgiving dinners, and I have been the lucky recipient not only of the food but of the good company, as well. In one dinner, Kelly slaved away all day to make a whole host of dishes--pumpkin and pecan pie, sweet potato casserole, cranberry sauce, rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, a turkey, and other dishes. When we ate the meal with the Spaniards, it was fascinating to see them ask us to explain why we celebrate Thanksgiving, and what a cranberry is, and why anyone would make a sweet dessert out of a weird squash. Living in a new culture certainly teaches you to take nothing for granted, and if you allow it to, it invites you to question and critically reflect on many parts of your being and your culture that you always assumed were "just the way that things are." Kelly and I also always talk about language since we both share a passion for linguistics. We read the same linguistics books and then dissect them to understand their pieces. We both have a lurking suspicion that, someday in the future, we may both undertake graduate studies in the riveting field of linguistics. She has been a wonderful roommate and a great anchor for me the past three months.
Lastly, I have been actively cultivating my relationship with myself which, though it sounds horribly corny to say so, I actually believe is probably the most important relationship of all since it's the only one I really have to live with every second of the day. I've been re-reading one of my favorite books, Gay Spirit Warrior, and taking its encouragement and advice to look within and act without, and it has already yielded good results. Two days ago, to spend some quality time with myself, I went to Casa de Campo, an enormous, wooded park in Madrid that is one of my favorite spots in the city. There I ran around, did the "circuito de acondicionamiento físico" (the physical conditioning circuit from which I am still sore) and simply listened to music and enjoyed the beautiful view of the fall-colored leaves and Madrid's beautiful buildings in the background. All is well here for me. My life has been a beautiful dream. I miss you all and think about you all everyday, but I am growing, alive, and well here in Madrid.
Essentially, after being in Spain for three months, I finally have the vast majority of my social life with Spaniards, and it has been a really gratifying experience to get to know these fascinating, good-hearted people. From time to time it is frustrating for me when I feel like I can't communicate with the same level of wit, humor, or nuance of meaning as I could in English, but that is also part of what is so thrilling about having friendships in a foreign language--you are forced to express your emotions, thoughts, and happenings in a second system of codes, and when you do so successfully the attendant sense of accomplishment and interpersonal connection is extremely rich. All of those years of studying irregular past tense verbs, the subjunctive, random vocabulary units and the impersonal "se" pay off enormously when you connect souls with a Spaniard through the medium of the Castilian tongue.
Ana is one of my best friends here in Spain, and she and I have had some wonderful times together. She invited me to see a film, El árbol de la vida, which she prefaced as being existentialist and somewhat strange. The film was atypical, but it was extremely well done and the strangest thing about it was to discover upon entering the theater that it was actually an American film, The Tree of Life, which had been given a Spanish title and subtitles but which played in the original English. Some of the translations of movies and books are really straightforward--Amanecer just come out as the latest installment of the Crepúsculo series, for example (Breaking Dawn and Twilight, respectively). Others, however, are much less straightforward, like I learned in the conversation I had about a movie called Hacia rutas salvajes (literally something like Towards Wild Routes) that I kept thinking reminded me of Into the Wild until later I realized that it was, in fact, the same movie. It's always interesting to see how these things get translated. Anyway, Ana and I have had some great times together. One evening we went out for some delicious Mexican food (I almost consider Mexican food my home food while here in Spain since it's so prevalent in the United States) and then a cup of tea, all of which was accompanied by good, soul-nourishing conversations. Another day, I went with her a little ways out of the center of the city to help her pick up a car, so I got to drive a nice Audi on the Madrid highway, and it felt amazing to be behind the wheel after months of no contact with a car! She and I have also been sustaining an intellectual friendship--she lends me books like an anthropologist's perspective on adolescent immigrants in the USA (La infancia de la inmigración), a collection of short poems on life, death, identity and love (Piedras del camino) and such. She and I are also re-reading San Manuel Bueno, mártir, one of my favorite short novella's by Miguel de Unamuno that really affected me when I first read it in Mrs. Chamberlain's AP Spanish Literature class. Cultivating a friendship with her has been very rich to say the least.
The other family to whom I teach English classes, Ruth (the mother), Eugenio (the father), and Adriana (the daughter) have also been particularly nice to me. Noticing that one day I was wearing glasses and not contacts during our class, they inquired and I told them that my left contact occasionally causes me pain. They then took it upon themselves to make me an appointment with an eye specialist, and Eugenio accompanied me there to make sure he didn't try to force me to buy any expensive glasses or contacts. Afterward, we all ate olives and almonds and just talked about religion, politics, and other classy subjects fit for polite conversation. :) (Rest assured that my eye is completely fine.) They have also invited me to a dinner for Ruth's birthday next week where I will meet their oldest son. It's unbelievable how caring and open Spaniards are, and this family is no exception.
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| The remnants of a large tree close to the town square in dreamy Miraflores de la Sierra |
I have also become closer with a woman who teaches technology in my school named Laura. She and I have begun the tradition of eating lunch together every Thursday, and it's been a blast. She has led a really interesting life and has an attitude that, though almost slightly cynical and very practical, I find really engaging and refreshing. She's been wonderful.
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| Though the photo isn't great, the dark-haired and darker-skinned woman in the center on the right is Laura from technology and on the left next to her (also with dark hair) is Ana from the counseling office. Benito is the shorter guy on the far right. |
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| Ali and her sister, Natalie, exuberant about the cups of chocolate and piles of churros we're all about to eat. |
Kelly, my roommate, has also been a constant source of support and mirth. She has had the good heart to cook multiple groups of Spaniards ornate, involved Thanksgiving dinners, and I have been the lucky recipient not only of the food but of the good company, as well. In one dinner, Kelly slaved away all day to make a whole host of dishes--pumpkin and pecan pie, sweet potato casserole, cranberry sauce, rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, a turkey, and other dishes. When we ate the meal with the Spaniards, it was fascinating to see them ask us to explain why we celebrate Thanksgiving, and what a cranberry is, and why anyone would make a sweet dessert out of a weird squash. Living in a new culture certainly teaches you to take nothing for granted, and if you allow it to, it invites you to question and critically reflect on many parts of your being and your culture that you always assumed were "just the way that things are." Kelly and I also always talk about language since we both share a passion for linguistics. We read the same linguistics books and then dissect them to understand their pieces. We both have a lurking suspicion that, someday in the future, we may both undertake graduate studies in the riveting field of linguistics. She has been a wonderful roommate and a great anchor for me the past three months.
