My first week in Madrid left me longing for the cool ocean air of
Alicante and for the numerous friends I'd left behind. Throughout my
first weekend in this city I found myself seriously reconsidering my
plans to stay in Madrid for the following 8 weeks. However, on Monday
the temperature dropped significantly, I met new friends and the time
has been soaring by every since. It's hard to say exactly how I've been
filling my time, as I have yet to visit any of the locations Madrid is
famous for, such as the abundance of cathedrals and museums. I'm sad to
say that I also haven't spent nearly enough time in Retiro Park (a big
highlight of Madrid) especially considering it is 5 minutes from my
school. But I have certainly been living like a Madrileno, staying up
until 6am (and even until noon one day), drinking far too frequently
and indulging in siestas at every opportunity I find. Although my heart
aspires to acclimate to the culture of Madrid, I discovered last week
that the rest of my body is not as enthusiastic or prepared for this
task. Saturday morning I woke up with my tonsils swollen to the point
that my eyes welled with tears every time I wanted to swallow. Having
had strep 4 times in the past year I knew immediately what my diagnosis
was, but I wasn't about to let it stop me from leaving for the weekend
trip to Granada that I had planned. As I lay awake long into the night
in my hostel, certain that I was going to suffocate in my sleep, all I
could think about was this great theory I had learned about in my
Cognitive Psychology class, "The Pollyanna Principle." When we look
back on our memories of experience, we tend to recall the positive
experiences and forget the negative experiences (unless you are
suffering from depression and then you're likely to think the
opposite). Even now one week after my trip all I remember of Granada is
the awing beauty of the Alhambra and the white washed houses that
flanked the winding streets of the Albycin. My sore throat seems like a
distant memory...which is also thanks to my host mom whose help I
solicited as soon as I got home on Monday. Usually you have to go to
the doctor to get antibiotics, but I have the great luck of living with
a nurse who has the privileges of going to the pharmacy and purchasing
whatever antibiotics she pleases.
So although I
have been a terrible tourist spending my days wandering aimlessly
through the streets of Madrid and taking far too few photos, I find
myself falling more in love with the city every day. It's difficult,
bordering on impossible, to articulate just what makes this city so
amazing. It certainly doesn't hold the same romantic charm as Paris or
the picturesque beauty of Venice. You won't find the same mouth
watering food that you'd be greeted by in Italy (unless you agree that
dried legs of pigs proudly hanging from the ceilings is a sign of a
good restaurant) and despite the numerous parks, the city is still
lacking in breathtaking greenery. However, all you need is to spend a
week in this city and you will find yourself hooked and I imagine
you'll find yourself in the same shoes as I did with visions of Madrid
haunting your dreams until you return. It's not a city with a character
that can be captured in photos or explained in words but it's a city
with a heart, soul and energy that is contagious. It's a city that
holds the ability to feel big, overwhelming and exciting when you're
wandering through Sol or Plaza Mayor on a Saturday afternoon but make
your way into the gay district of Chueca or the winding streets of La
Latina and you feel miles away from the big city. Whatever you're
looking for, you can find it in Madrid. The people who live here
proudly call this city their home and as one of my new Spanish friends
said, it is impossible to leave. When I asked him what exactly he meant
he said he wasn't really sure why, he'd tried to live in other cities
and there were many things he preferred in other cities to Madrid but
whenever he was away for a long time he felt that he'd lost part of
himself that he truly couldn't survive without being in this city.
Yes, there is definitely something sustaining about this city that
stays up until dawn and heads to work, naps at 2pm for a few hours and
finds nothing of greater importance than their family, friends and
enjoying the moment.
Something that's been on
my mind a lot lately is the question of why I came to Spain anyways?A
friend I recently met from Australia claims that all of the travelers
you meet here in Europe are here to escape from something. I think in a
majority of cases there must be some truth to that or I think people
would find it far too difficult to say good-bye to their homes for
months on end. And afterall why does "escape" need to have such
negative connotations anyways? It seems healthy to take space away from
the familiar. However, I can't help but think that this trip was made
for reasons more than just a mental vacation or even to learn another
language. I assume that if I think, write, and reflect long enough that
one day I will have a lightbulb moment and suddenly the mystery of why
I so desperately needed to come back here will become clear to me.
Although it's true that since I first came to Spain 3 years ago the
need to return has been heavy on my heart, but as for the answer of
WHY? I have yet to know...However, I am finding myself consistently
more comfortable with not knowing the answer. It helps to be in the
company of others who feel the same way, who have left their secure
jobs or education to travel over here and now find themselves unable to
articulate their motivations. I find my perspective shifting from
always asking "Por que?" (why) to instead asking "porque no?" (why not)
and I hope that this is a philosophy I can bring with me back to
Seattle this summer. Although I am certain that when I propose this
question to my friends regarding staying up on Monday night to watch
the sunrise I am likely to be greeted by an onslaught of reasons why
staying up until 7am during the week is not the best idea in the world
(though I may beg to differ...).
It's
impossible to try and sum up all of the experiences I've had since I
arrive here 5 weeks ago. My days have without a doubt been very busy,
so much so that I find it very inconvenient to have to go to school
every day and as for finding time to complete my homework? Impossible.
But there have definitely been some highlights from the past weeks::
My
best friend at my school, Liz (who quit her job and came here from
Florida with only 3 weeks notice shortly after the death of her mom.
This girl is such an inspiration!) introduced me to her group of guy
friends here whom she met at a bar during her second week here. This
group of guys are around 30 right now and have known each other for
almost all of their lives. They are all so unique in their
personalities and interests but when they are together it is inevitably
going to be an exciting time. One of the first things Liz said to me
when she met me was that she was relieved to meet a blonde American
girl because the guys had been bugging her to introduce them to someone
who is blonde (seriously, I am such a novelty here). I joke with her
that the only reason she befriended me was because of my hair color.
The first night I hung out with these guys I had the pleasure of riding
around the city on the back of a motorcycle. What better way to ride on
a motorcycle for my first time than watching the sunset and the city
and getting a mini tour from the guy driving the moto? That same night
we were invited by one of the guys to be his guests at an exclusive
party in an old metro station where the latest Rolex watches were being
showcased. Having no advance notice we were definitely underdressed and
it was impossible not to feel uncomfortable amidst the elegantly
dressed guests. I indulged in quite a few of the free drinks that were
offered every five minutes and silently prayed that no one would talk
to me as I'm pretty sure my nervousness would've ruined any chance of
me being able to speak in Spanish.
A few days
later I had the chance to meet up with these guys again to celebrate
San Isidro, the patron saint of Madrid. The entire city closes down and
I'm pretty certain that EVERYONE heads to this park 10 minutes from the
city center because there were thousands and thousands of people there
hosting their own botellon (like a picnic, but with drinks) and the
numbers continued to grow late into the night. It took at least 30
minutes to try and locate a bathroom, but the inconvenience was worth
being party of this massive party and listening to the live music that
was playing. By 3am we were bored with drinking outside but it was too
early to go home so we headed to a dance club that made me feel like I
was in Seattle thanks to the alternative American music, but it was a
nice change from the usual Spanish pop music played in the clubs.
Around 7am we were all starving so we headed to a cafeteria for
bocadillos (sandwiches) and I found myself in a debate regarding who is
the best Spanish poet. After breakfast I decided that no one should go
to school on such an important holiday in Madrid and so I decided to go
off to the park and one of the guys offered to be my tour guide of the
best playgrounds and important monuments in Retiro. After another
breakfast around 11:30 and some much needed coffee I finally headed
home for an afternoon of sleep. However, I couldn't sleep for long
because that night a huge fireworks display complete with music was
taking place in Retiro. After the performance Liz and my friend Casey,
from Australia (who coincidentally is also here shortly after her best
friend died and she decided that life is too short not to travel)
headed to a local hookah bar for Moroccan food and Sangria. Although we
had every intention of taking the last metro home, the owner of the bar
gave us several jars of complimentary sangria and whatever food we
wanted to try. It's impossible to say no to free food and drinks so we
obliged until the restaurant closed and we found ourselves stuck inside
with only the workers who started turning the conversation in an
incredibly inappropriate direction. We politely thanked them for their
generosity and headed off to find somewhere to hang out until the metro
would open in 5 hours.
This is only just a
snapshot of what I've been doing here in Madrid, but every night and
day is an adventure. Like the night we stumbled across a random bar and
were greeted with glasses of wine for one euro and a crowd of people
standing on their chairs clapping and singing along with a man who
played bagpipes. They even followed him out into the road as though he
was the Pied Piper and continued the party on the street until they'd
decided they needed more drinks and returned to the indoors with their
music and merriment. Or when I went to Retiro a couple of Sundays ago
in search of a certain monument there but instead found myself
following the sound of drums to the rear of the park where a giant
crowd had formed to dance along to a circle of drummers, whom I learned
congregate there every Sunday for 7 hours (I also learned that the
drummers change the rhythm of their drumming when they see the cops as
a warning to their friends who are selling drugs). This is a city where
it's pointless to have a set plan for the day's going to look like
because if you stick to the plan you're bound to miss out on priceless
experiences. In this spirit of spontaneity I decided the other day
before class to buy a ticket to Barcelona in two weekends from now for
a short 2 day stay and hopefully will do some other traveling as well
during my remaining weekends.
I'm not sure
what the next 3 weeks have in store for me here, although I do hope to
make it to all the wonderful museums and out to see more like music and
theater as well as all the beautiful parks Madrid is home to. But in
truth, I'll be content if all I do to pass the next 21 days is drink
coffee with all the great friends I've made here, as we people watch
and discuss things that are important to us. The more I think about it,
that's truly what this experience in Spain is about anyways, enjoying
the moment and letting the soul of the city sink into my skin.
...And
after all happiness in life is not measured by the things we do, the
places we go or the route we take to get there. Happiness in life is
measured by the people we share our experiences with.
