Birthday Celebrations and Personal Clarity

I am aware that I left my last post at something of a dreadfully exciting cliffhanger in which you were all dying to know what I ended up doing to celebrate my birthday. You may all breathe easily now, for I will give you the next installment of the thrilling life of Bob Weatherford and recount for you all the details of a wonderful celebration of the day I came to this earth. (If my sarcasm didn't come through in this introductory snippet, I will state it explicitly here: this was supposed to be sarcastic. But I did have a wonderful birthday.)

Me, bright and shiny thanks to a nice flash, with my
five-cookie birthday cake and a monkey candle, all thanks to
Ana.

My birthday this year landed on a Thursday, and it was not just any normal Thursday but a Thursday in which all of the teaching assistants in the Community of Madrid had to attend one of our training and informational meetings. These things aren't the most thrilling gatherings of one's life, but they are a mandatory and important part of our assignment here in Madrid, so I always happily go. Plus, they are a great chance to get in touch with old friends from orientation with whom I haven't stayed in touch. Anyway, knowing that I had a full day of classes at school and then this meeting, I was just planning on doing something really small for my birthday. I just wanted to get a drink and some light food with some of my friends after our night meeting. So I ended up going out with Kelly (my roommate), Ali (you all know her sparkling face by now because of my frequent mentions of her on this blog), Ricardo (a brilliant and wonderful art teacher at Kelly's school), and Ana (a counselor at my school with whom I traveled to Granada). We decided to go to a nice rooftop/terrace cafe in Chueca, Madrid's gay neighborhood and one of the trendiest places in town. There, a few of my friends (Ana and Ricardo) surprised me with gifts. Ana bought me a book of writings by a Peruvian author named Eduardo Galeano, and Ricardo bought me a feminist book called El asalto al Hades. Ana also brought five small cookies and a monkey-shaped candle, and my friends sang to me and then we cut the figurative "cake" by distributing one cookie to each person. It was a night full of joy and celebration, and my friends made it absolutely incredible. Ricardo, Kelly, and Ana had to work the next day, so we called it quits early on Thursday night, knowing that we would reunite on Friday for more festivities.

I spent Friday morning doing things that I love to do--running in El Retiro park, reading books, and relaxing. On Friday night, I had told my friends that I would love to cook something for them and then go out dancing since it had been awhile since I had done that. My friends were acting a little funny (each of them in their own way, some by making excuses, others by simply being furtive), and eventually the secret spilled that they had planned a surprise party for me at a Mexican restaurant! So dinner was at a delicious Mexican restaurant here in Madrid. The guests included the same people from Thursday night plus two additions, Ángel, Ana's husband, and Mike, another good friend from the Fulbright Program. Dinner was wonderful. The food was delicious (and Mom, Ana ordered molé, just like you always do), our table was in its own room so we had plenty of privacy, and the evening ended with a host of surprises. The first was a homemade carrot cake that Kelly, Ricardo, and Ali had made for me. It was moist, sweet, and exactly what I needed, even though it caused a couple of the waiters to glare at our table or at least look at it with suspicion. Next came a round of poetry reading. Ali had proposed that, because of my love of literature, everyone prepare a poem to read. I had amazing words read to me--a poem about gypsies by Federico García Lorca, for example, or a beautiful one about gratitude called "Gracias a la vida" that Ali prepared. When it was finally Kelly's turn, she started reading slowly and dramatically the following words:

Music stops (Kelly pauses dramatically)

Listen, hot stuff (another pregnant pause)

I'm in LOVE with this song

So just hush, baby, shut up

Heard enough

Stop ta-ta-talking that BLAH BLAH BLAH!

Yes, Kelly had chosen the profound poem written by modern culture's poet laureate Ke$ha, such a renowned bard that she requires only a single name to identify her striking work. I was almost peeing my pants laughing. No one else at the table got in on the joke, and since the language of the evening was Spanish except for this brief English interjection, the poor Spaniards had no idea why I was heaving and sobbing with laughter. That is Kelly--witty to the bone, hilarious, and perfectly well-timed. I loved the contrast of sobriety and levity, of sheer frivolity and also poetic profundity of the whole experience. It was a marvelous dinner.

I was also given gifts at this dinner. My friends pooled in to buy me the board game Manzanas con Manzanas (Apples to Apples), which I have been wanting for a long time. Ali bought me a framed replica of Picasso's "Guernica" since I find it such a moving piece of artwork. And Mike bought me a book about the value of reading and literature. (Wow, I make my interests and passions pretty well known, eh? :) ) It was such a beautiful moment of celebration and gratitude, and when the great dinner was over, we all went out to dance! We just found a dance club in the center of the city that I entered first to make sure the music seemed like our style, and we danced our hearts out. "I Like How It Feels" by Enrique Iglesias came on, as did numerous other pop songs that got my little butt shaking on the dance floor. It was so fun to be surrounded by friends in such a fun, carefree environment. It was, all in all, a fabulous and unforgettable birthday.

The beautiful souls who made my birthday magical,
from left to right: Ricardo, Mike, Ángel, Ana, Ali, Kelly.

Life has gone back to normal since then, although I made a couple of really important decisions regarding my romantic life a little more than a week ago, and that has brought about a sense of pride, self-empowerment, and happiness, which have all been welcome gifts. I am moving forward with my life, and it's a great feeling.

El Palacio Real de Aranjuez

Briefly, this past weekend, though I wanted to do a little traveling, Madrid got hit with a cold front from Siberia that caused winds that could almost rival some of Laramie's (which, as we all know, is really saying something). Instead of traveling far, therefore, I decided to tour a ritzy mansion of a former marquis here in Madrid called the Museo de Cerralbo. It was a stunning mansion filled with ornately decorated rooms, each with its own distinct style. I then also went to Aranjuez, a small town in the very southern part of the Community of Madrid where there lies yet another royal palace. Though it was quite windy and cold down there, it was wonderful to get to tour the palace and walk around some of the other royal grounds. The consistent impression that I had during my trip was that the Spanish monarchy was so vastly wealthy. I pondered Felipe II, the king who had this castle and El Escorial built, and the man who was also the king of all of Spain's American possessions (i.e. all of Central and South America and a good chunk of North America, too), many territories in Europe (since he was a Habsburg), territories all along the coast of Africa, and territories in the Indonesian islands, as well. I can hardly imagine all of that pomp and power. It's unbelievable to consider and fascinating at the same time. Relics from these ages, like the various castles in the Community of Madrid, survive like giant reminders of the lavish riches of the aristocracy.

All is very well here. I will be travelling to Valladolid in a couple of weeks for a work conference, so I will post again soon about that city as another part of my exploration of beautiful Spain!

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.