A Vacation in Granada and Two Beautiful Visitors

I have had an absolutely incredible, albeit completely busy, last month of my life. So much has happened that I am positive that I will be unable to recall and recount all of the amazing memories and experiences that I had over the last month. Nevertheless, in the spirit of doing one’s best despite the impossibility of perfection, I will attempt to give a glimpse into and make a written record of my doings. 

Jesú and Ana, both social workers of different types
here in Spain

To begin, in early December I had the wonderful opportunity to travel to a city in southern Spain called Granada with Ana, the woman who works as a guidance counselor in my high school, and her family, composed of her husband Ángel and their daughter, Vega, whom I play with in English once a week. We left right after classes so that we could take full advantage of the long weekend we had here in Spain. We drove down to Granada from Madrid, a pleasant car ride of about 5 hours. Unfortunately, I was feeling quite feverish and ill, which is never an ideal way to begin a vacation. I had bodily chills and felt very cold despite the pleasant weather. When we finally got to Granada, we met a man named Jesú who was an old friend of Ana’s from her university days and with whom she and her family would be staying during our time in Granada. I had a hostel reservation near Jesú’s house, and my lodging was a cute, small private room in which I felt very comfortable, a great place to recover from my illness over the next few days. 

 

A view of the Albaicín as seen from the Alhambra

Granada is an astounding city. It was the last Moorish stronghold that was captured during the centuries-long Reconquest in which the Catholics slowly took the Iberian Peninsula back from the Berber and Arabic Muslims who had conquered it in the early 8th century. Granada, therefore, is a city with a beautiful mix of Muslim and Catholic cultures. In some ways, it felt very oriental and exotic. Even though we were there in winter, there were lots of citrus trees bearing beautiful fruit, such as orange trees surrounding some of the central churches and the cathedral. Granada also felt very stereotypically Spanish. The Albaicín, for example, is a beautiful neighborhood of white houses with red tile roofs that has a beautiful view of the Alhambra, the jewel of the entire city and the reason that most people travel there. From the Albaicín there are some breathtaking views of the Alhambra, the last Muslim fortress of the Iberian Peninsula that comprised a palace, towers, and other buildings. The Sierra Nevada (Snowy Mountains) can also be seen in the background, with their large, snow-capped peaks creating a fascinating contrast with the palm trees and summer houses of the Albaicín. 

The contrasts of Granada: the palm tree in the forefront,
the Sierra Nevada in the background, and the
Alhambra off to the right

The central buildings of the Alhambra seen from
the city of Granada below it

The Alhambra is certainly an impressive fortress and had a lasting impact on me due to its grandeur and the oriental intricacy of its architecture. Washington Irving loved it so much that he actually lived in a few rooms in one of its palaces and wrote Tales of the Alhambra in homage to the edifices there. Other artists of all sorts have been inspired by its enormousness, intricacy, and beauty. As a Muslim fortress, its architecture is distinct from that of the rest of Western European art, since Islam forbids the representation of humans or animals in its art. As a result, the Alhambra’s palaces have stone and woodwork of elaborate, repetitive designs that are breathtaking. The Alhambra’s gardens were also beautiful, and the trickle of the running fountains made the entire experience even more magical and memorable. 

Some of the incredible artwork as seen
in the Patio of the Lions in the Alhambra

The small town whose coastline brought me to tears

With Ana and her family, I also had the privilege of visiting a small coastal town very near Granada (whose name I can’t remember, though it might have been Motril), and it was stunning. I was feeling very emotionally open for some reason on the day that we visited this town, and when we walked to the limits of the town and looked down into the enormous, seemingly endless ocean down below, I was overcome with emotion and shed a few tears. I felt the immensity of the world, the beauty of everything, and yet the transitory, ephemeral nature of life, and it was beautiful. On the way back from Granada, we stopped in a small town called Almagro known for its theater house that performs plays from Spain’s Siglo de Oro (Century of Gold, when prolific and renowned writers like Lope de Vega and Calderón de la Barca were writing). We ate in a traditional Spanish restaurant there and then came back to Madrid. Oddly and beautifully enough, it felt like coming home to be back in my apartment in the center of the bustling capital. It wasn’t as intense of a feeling of returning home as I’m sure I’ll feel when I land in the USA again and see the Suburban parked in front of our Empinado house, but it was nevertheless nice to recognize that I have a growing connection to Madrid and that, given time and energy, I can make a sanctuary for myself in a city on the other side of the world from the place where I have the deepest, oldest roots.

Susannah in front of La Catedral de San
Francisco el Grande, dedicated to Saint
Francis of Assisi

Quickly after my trip to Granada, I had my first of two visitors for the holidays. Susannah came because she had a long break from her teaching and tutoring and wanted to visit me, see Spain, and be able to support me and be supported by me in person. Susannah and I had a wonderful time alternating touristic activities with great personal, one-on-one time. We walked around Toledo, for example, which is a beautiful walled city that was a capital of a Roman province and the capital of Spain under the Visigoths. In Toledo, we ate an amazing meal of cocido madrileño, Madrid’s regional dish made of garbanzos, chorizo, morcilla (blood sausage), chicken, tocino (nothing but the fat of a pig), and some vegetables, including carrots, potatoes, and cabbage. She and I also visited El Escorial, a huge, austere palace built by Felipe II in the mountains north of Madrid. We took a few guided walks throughout Madrid and read about some of the neat parts of its history as we did so, including the fact that Saint Francis of Assisi once visited the city (and now has a cathedral named after him) and that Cervantes died in an adjacent neighborhood next to the one where I live on the same day and same year that Shakespeare died in England. Europe’s history is full of curiosities, and for a nerd like me it is nothing but sheer pleasure to relish in the cultural wealth of its constituent countries, especially when doing so with a friend.

Susannah and I enjoy the cocido broth
while awaiting the heap of garbanzos, meats,
and vegetables awaiting us.

Susannah and I also had some great conversations about healing parts of our past, embracing the goodness and light that lies within all of us, and living our highest selves. We talked about some really important things and generally did so over really rich meals, including some great Indian food (with naan to sop it up!) and some homemade langostinos a la plancha (grilled shrimp, essentially). We talked about the past, present, and future, and it was so beautiful to have one of my best friends and one of the wisest, kindest people on this planet to be here with me for a week. Susannah and I also had the privilege of meeting Ricardo together for the first time. I will write more about Ricardo later, but for now it suffices to say that, after telling us about his interest in languages and his dedication to living a sustainable lifestyle, and after showing us his happy aura and open spirit, we were both extremely impressed and felt a renewed hope about the existence of people who are really aiming to be their best selves and make the world the best it can be.

After Susannah left, I shed a few tears because I realized that I probably wouldn’t see her again for months, and that can be difficult. The same thing happened when Laura left—I just felt a little down and in a state of heightened awareness and sensitivity, which isn’t a bad thing. Kelly and I had a conversation about this, and we both think that having visitors is the time when homesickness hits the hardest. In the day to day, I don’t feel homesick because I have a full, happy life here in Madrid and know that all of you, my loved ones, are okay back in the States. But when I have a visitor and then that visitor leaves, the absence in my physical life of my loved ones is felt more acutely. It is not a negative sensation but merely one of an elevated appreciation, tinged with a touch of sorrow, for the great people that I love back in the United States.

The last week of work before the holidays was wonderful, and after our last day of work, all of the school faculty and staff typically go out to a nice restaurant to eat together. I dressed up in a button-up, slacks, wing-tips, and tie, and I had a fantastic time at the meal. I sat next to Laura and Ana, some of my favorite teachers at the school, and I also made a couple of new friends with people sitting near me. We ate course after course of delicious food, including different breads, a stinky but delicious cheese melted in a sophisticated dish, olives and tomatoes, and a selection of red meats and fish. I felt like my Spanish was, for some lucky reason, top notch on that day, and I just had a blast. When I caught the bus home from Moralzarzal back to Madrid, the sun was already beginning to set (Spanish lunch starts at around 3:00 or 4:00, remember), and I was as happy as I’ve ever been. Behind me were the first trimester of Spanish school, a wonderful visit from Susannah, and an enjoyable feast with my co-workers, while ahead of me were two weeks of vacation, a visit from Laura, and the general mystery and surprise of life. I was blissful and just reveled in the sunset, my iPod, and the pleasant sleepiness that dining well and then being on vacation brings.

On Christmas Eve, I had brunch with Ali, one of my best friends and supporters, and Mike, a super bright, funny guy who is also here on a Fulbright scholarship. It was great to get some human connection for the holiday, and our conversation focused on education reform and great pedagogues of ours who have left an indelible mark because of their teaching. I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day alone, happily reading in my room, eating Captain Crunch Peanut Butter cereal (thank you so much, Susannah!) and waiting to talk to my beloved family back home. When Laura came on the 28th, I was so thrilled to be seeing family in the flesh. I waited for her in the airport with a small little sign and covered her in hugs (and was covered in return) when we finally saw each other.

The breathtaking Monasterio de El Escorial, with perfectly
trimmed gardens adorning the stark granite palace

Laura and I had a great time. We did quite a bit of travelling to different places close to Madrid. We visited the beautiful castle in the sleepy town of Manzanares el Real. We saw a very beautiful painting of El Greco’s in a small and crowded church in Toledo. We visited El Escorial and noticed the paintings of the Spanish royalty hung there, fixating our attention on poor Carlos II, the last Habsburg who was so inbred that he was pallid and infertile with a peculiar physiognomy and indented eyes. There in El Escorial, Laura bought me a book on Spanish history since I am currently quite into the subject, and we had a great time there in general walking around its beautiful gardens and imagining being nobility ourselves. She and I also had the opportunity to travel to La Granja de San Ildefonso, a palace surrounded by stunning gardens designed by the Bourbons to imitate Versailles. After La Granja we went to Segovia, one of the coolest cities I have seen yet, since it has a Roman aqueduct, a Romanesque church, a Gothic cathedral and a palace all along the same road. We were able to see these great places because Ricardo, in his generosity, offered to drive us in his car, cutely named Abundancia. Laura and I also visited the house where Cervantes was born in Alcalá de Henares with Ricardo, and in general it was so nice to have his fact-filled mind and his fuel-filled car to do some great tourism here in Spain.

Segovia's stunning cathedral

Laura and I prepare twelve grapes to eat
at midnight after talking and listening to
music together to prepare for a new year

Laura and I also had a great time talking and supporting each other in life. She talked to me a lot about my future and listened so well to me. We also had an enjoyable time doing some Spanish customs, like eating 12 grapes with the timed chimes of a bell on New Year’s Eve (I think we both started prematurely since the bell system is somewhat complicated) and eating a roscón de reyes on January 6, the Three Wise Men’s Day. The roscón de reyes is a fluffy cake with a pastry-like texture and a slight hint of lemon in the taste. In each roscón is a little ceramic figurine. The person who gets the piece with the figurine is supposed to have to pay for the cake. Laura and I ate a roscón with Ricardo and his friends at his birthday party and also ate one with Kelly and Luis, my roommates, the next day, and both days we both avoided the little figurine. (Whether or not there was subterfuge or trickery involved, I am not at liberty to say. :) ) We had a thoroughly Spanish Christmas season, I think, and we loved being able to be together and have a spend-the-nighter together every night for more than a week. I was sad to see her go but felt this unbelievable gratitude for her, for my family and close friends, and for Madrid as I walked back from the bus stop in the dark hours of night after seeing her off at the Barajas Airport in Madrid.

I will write more about Ricardo, my birthday (which I’m about to go celebrate in a few hours!), and my current thoughts and impressions in my next post, which I promise I will write in less than a month. Know that I am well and that I am so grateful for your presence in my life, my beloved family and friends. I am sending all of my love and well-wishing from Madrid, knowing you are all sending it right back to me. 

My Spanish Social Life

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.

The remnants of a large tree close to the town
square in dreamy Miraflores de la Sierra

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.

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.

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 and her sister, Natalie, exuberant about the cups of chocolate
and piles of churros we're all about to eat.

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.

Barcelona, Little Miracles, and a Vallisoletano

The past two weeks have been marvelous in every sense of the word. Every day I feel like I undergo so many interesting and novel experiences, just as I feel a range of fascinating emotions daily, and I am certain that I could write a novel about each and every day. However, I will try to limit myself to the highlights lest I lose my faithful and beloved readership and bore myself in the process, as well. :)

Two weeks ago, all of Spain had multiple days of vacation for a national holiday called "Día de Todos los Santos" (All Saints Day). Wanting to see more of Spain and thinking it foolish not to take advantage of the holiday at hand, I decided to plan a trip with my beloved friend Ali. I will describe Ali at greater length later, but suffice it to say now that she is brilliant, warm, and a sheer pleasure to be with. She and I booked a room in a hostel in Barcelona, bought bus tickets (the cheapest and slowest way to arrive), and decided to see what is supposed to be Madrid's rival city and a Spanish gem in the northwestern coast of the country.

The bus ride was very enjoyable. Ali and I shared headphones and swapped songs that we like, and loving music like I do, I always enjoy seeing what songs people that I respect listen to. She showed me a few that she had specifically chosen for me to aid me along my path of intense self-discovery here in Spain, and I recommend them to all of my readers. ("Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls has some beautiful, quite intellectual lyrics, and "Diamonds and Gold" has a sexy, jazzy feel and is about seeking happiness instead of material wealth.) When we finally arrived in Barcelona, we decided to see the Sagrada Familia (the Sacred Family) Cathedral that is supposed to be the magnum opus of Gaudi, the architect who left his modernist mark on the entire city of Barcelona. The Cathedral is stunning both in daylight and when illuminated artificially at night. Gaudi's modernist idea, as far as I was able to learn from some brief reading and then experiential scrutiny, is a mixture of the old Gothic, with its mixture of majesty, grandeur, austerity, and form, and the modernist love of disarray, fragmentation, kitsch, and chaos. His buildings are strange, to say the least, but I enjoyed them immensely. The Sagrada Familia is still unfinished, and work continues on it today by the funds raised from donors.

The beauty of the building is, in my opinion,
slightly compromised by the construction
equipment that surrounds this work in progress.

Gaudi's other buildings are equally compelling and bizarre, and the city is literally dotted with them. They are, for most tourists, the highlight of Barcelona, a city that is architecturally beautiful and, in general, probably considered more aesthetically pleasing than Madrid to most people. It was a pleasure to walk Barcelona's streets and feel so surprised by the beauty of everything that I saw, which probably made me look like a trigger-happy tourist given the number of photos I took. Below are a few more specimens of magnificent buildings that Ali and I saw.

Casa Milà, "La Pedrera" (The Stone Quarry),
is another Gaudi masterpiece.

Contrasting facades on two adjacent buildings

The Maritime Museum, I believe, just right there in the traffic

Barcelona is also home to some stunning Gothic architecture, a central cathedral and a slightly smaller one known as the "Catedral Santa María del Mar" being chief among them. Being the neat-freak that I am, I think that I prefer the dignity and order of the Gothic architecture rather than the hectic mixture of gaudy styles that Gaudi (could the two words be etymologically related? :) ) preferred. Seeing the utter grandeur of these enormous, elegant buildings, I couldn't help but to think about how different the lives were of the people who built and worshipped in them. Thousands of impoverished peasants whose life expectancy was probably around 40 years spent hundreds of years constructing beautiful monuments to the god of their Catholic faith. Little else remains to testify to their existence--most were illiterate, their homes were made of cheap material, and their bodies weren't enshrined in nice tombs upon their death. On the other end of the spectrum, though, were the nobility and clergy whose houses and edifices survive completely intact into the 21st century and are the tourist destinations of millions of middle class people like myself. Life has changed so much, and I wonder so much what the zeitgeist, the general paradigm, was like for different people in the past. What would it feel like to be an indigent peasant who came to this cathedral to pray for the soul of his son who had just died of tuberculosis lest it go to purgatory and suffer? This is the power of history, I think--to get us outside ourselves and to help us consider other ways of life quite foreign to our own.



Ali and I enjoyed a host of delicious tapas in Barcelona

Though Barcelona really is a feast for the eyes, the most enjoyable parts of the trip were the amazing conversations I had with Ali over some truly delicious meals. She and I spoke about everything from the difficult things in our pasts, to the reasons we love our best friends, to how best to improve ourselves and the world, to what our favorite country songs are. Conversation with Ali is always so rich because of how articulate and considerate she is. She always asks probing and loving follow-up questions, and she always answers questions with sincerity and compelling nuance. One night, we stayed in our hostel and cooked an amazing Italian dinner from ingredients we purchased at a grocery store below us. Since we were the only ones in the hostel that night (what great luck, eh?), we played each other fun country songs that we like and ate a delicious feast of carbohydrates and salad. I played her some John Denver and Lonestar, and she played me some Keith Urban and Bob Dylan. It was so enjoyable. In other conversations, we talked about what next year will look like for both of us (for both it is full of possibility and excitement but mostly lacking concrete direction), how to be more honest people (I confessed that sometimes I lie and pretend that I've read a book or seen a movie that I actually haven't, so this month I'm monitoring myself vigilantly to improve this bad habit), and how to lead a balanced life. She is one of the deepest and most interesting people I have had the pleasure of meeting, and I think that the universe was looking out for me when it introduced me to her. You will all love her when you get the chance to meet her, and she knows about all of you. Mom, she's from San Francisco, and the Bay Area is her favorite place on earth, and I told her that you two share that belief. :) She is a godsend out here, encouraging me to accept myself as I am but to push myself to be my best self, as well.

Our hostel was inexpensive and yet very
comfortable and stylish

Since returning from Barcelona, life has been very rich here. On recommendation from my roommate Jesús, with whom I've grown much closer, I've been reading El monje que vendió su Ferrari (The Monk that Sold His Ferrari), a sort of New Age book about using discipline and positive thinking to improve your life. Though it's heavily didactic and not the most beautifully-written (says the English snob in me), I've really enjoyed reading it, and I felt like I've been blessed by the universe with the things that I need in a way that the book says happens for those who truly seek. For example, one night, as I walked home from swimming practice, I thought about how I could integrate more vegetables into my diet. When I came home, my roommate Kelly had just made a huge pan full of peppers, potatoes, squash, pumpkin, and onions in a really good sauce. She had made enough for both of us just out of the blue! Other little miracles have come my way when I've needed them, and it's been so wonderful. I've deepened friendships with some people at work, including notably Ana, Vega's mother, with whom I enjoyed an Indian food meal and many good conversations about anthropology, education, and life in general. I'm also growing more comfortable with Laura and more comfortable in my apartment, in general. All is very well here. I keep growing and learning, and that's what it's all about for me at this point.

Lastly, another big miracle came into my life a little over a week ago, and his name is Miguel. He is the president of not just the swim team that I'm on but the entire sports league that comprises the soccer, running, volleyball, basketball, and leisure/free time sections. The entire club had an assembly to vote on the official matters and business of the club, and afterwards we ate a delicius meal. I met Miguel at the meal, and then he and I talked later when all of us went out to a dance club in Chueca, Madrid's gay neighborhood. The next day, he invited me to a delicious meal of steamed mussels and a special white wine made from grapes from Valladolid, his native city. (Incidentally, Alberto is also from Valladolid. The "gentilicio," or adjective form for a person from Valladolid is a "vallisoletano," though their nickname is "pucelano.")  Afterwards, we walked around central Madrid as he explained the history of some of its buildings and statues. Miguel had a standing invitation to see what was supposed to be a beautiful apartment in a very expensive skyscraper in Madrid, and he invited me to accompany him after our stroll. The apartment was on the 32nd floor of a building and was one of the nicest flats that I have ever seen. The owners were two gay men, a couple, who work in international business trying to promote LGBT-friendly business solutions. They have an enormous balcony that literally overlooks all of Madrid. It had been raining earlier in the day, so on one side of the city was an enormous rainbow. On the other side of the wrap-around balcony (yup, a wrap-around balcony on the 32nd floor!) the sun set over the red roofs of Madrid. It was probably the prettiest sunset I've ever seen, and I almost cried out of happiness in that moment. There I was, with three great gay men on the balcony of the highest residence in Madrid (there are taller buildings, the owners told me, but they are all offices), seeing a rainbow and a sunset at the same time. Life doesn't get better than that. I'm so fortunate. (I didn't have my camera with me, but Miguel took some photos on his iPhone. I will ask him for them and include them in my next post.)

Miguel participates actively in the volleyball section of our club, so he has invited me to some practices, and I have gone twice. Fearing that I would make an utter fool of myself on the court, I told him and the others that my dad was once quite the volleyball player who has an entire collection of medals and trophies. I told them that I hoped I had the same talent in my blood or that I could channel the same athletic spirit. I'm not sure it worked, but it was certainly a nice wish. :) Ever since the first volleyball practice a week ago, Miguel has asked me multiple times if I have told you yet, Dad, that I played volleyball. He thinks you're going to be so proud of me for attempting to follow in your footsteps.

This week is the LGBT film festival here in Madrid, so last night Miguel and I went with other members from my swim team to see a really cute film called You Should Meet My Son. Taking a positive twist on the tragic, depressing gay movies that we are all accustomed to seeing (with suicides, cheating, murder, or impossibility of love at the end), this film was about a Southern mother who, after learning her son is gay and overcoming some of her own prejudices, decides to try to find him a boyfriend in order to make him happy. She ends up making great gay friends herself in the process and helping her son overcome his own internalized homophobia and choose the harder but more fulfilling path of true love with a man rather than trying to fake or force a marriage with his female fiance. We had a great time and then spent the rest of the night at a really classy birthday party to which I was invited. Lest anyone think otherwise, it behooves me to say that Miguel and I are only friends. But we've grown closer rather quickly, and it has been really wonderful to make a supportive, kind, Spanish friend.

Thank you for your comments on education, everyone. I find this a fascinating theme. Ana sent me a link to a really neat talk that has a sketched drawing to accompany it. I re-found it in its original English on YouTube and am including the link here for any who want to watch it. I think it's a neat perspective on the education system and agrees with lots of what you guys and I think. Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U