Ole!…..

I just got in from my last night in Madrid. The mojitos were great, the night, I’ve had much better… However, I absorbed the city like a sponge while walking home tonight, consumed in my own thoughts and changes. I won’t forget you, I will never forget you Madrid!

There is nothing more I can say than good bye, and I love you. I’m leaving my hope, and dreams here to find them again in another city. I have learned a lot… The best thing I have learned is that there is a lot to learn. I have learned to be so strong. Tonight I was strong. I was so strong, that I was able to leave Madrid, and some people within it, without a complete emptiness.. I will leave memories and footprints here. I will leave happiness here to find it somewhere else. My last night in Madrid was a little like my first night. I walked the streets home alone, struggling again to find my purpose… Although I have found so much within me, in the end, I found myself a bit confused, with the thought that there will be a long walk ahead of me…

Goodbye Madrid¡ Te dejo. If I return again soon, I expect you to teach me again the power of myself. Let me be the cause of my own success. I was, I always will be, and in life, may I always find a world with no boundaries or constraints. I’m my own best friend. I’ll keep it that way, for a long time. I was all I needed when I came, and I’ll leave with the same power of individualism..

My flight is in 10 or so hours. I’ll kiss the ground before I take off for home.

“Era España tirante y seca, diurno
tambor de són opaco,
llanura y nido de águilas, silencio
de azotada intemperie.
Cómo, hasta el llanto, hasta el alma amo tu duro
suelo…
hasta el hondo sitio de mi ser.”

“Home is where the heart is.” What happens when you have two homes? I’ll tell you. Your heart is sliced straight down the center. And it hurts.

VENGA SEMIFINALES ESPAÑA QUE FUERTE, ITALIA HIJO DE PUTA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WUUUUUUUUUU WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII PLAZA COLON ENCENDIDO CON EL FUEGO DE LA BANDERA ESPAÑOLA BORRACHOS TODOS POR LAS CALLES EN LAS CARTERAS, COCHES SE VISTEN CON AMARILLO Y ROJO Y JODER TIO!!!!!!! EURO2008 !!!

Just got back from a botellon tonight with espanoles in the park. We have a facebook group: “Comillas El Valor de la Bebida” Although I didn’t study in Comillas, much of my friends study there. The police drove right by our group of about 35 people drinking near the temple of debod. nooo pasa nadaa.. You have got to love this country. I came back early because I was a little tired from my book reading in lovely retiro today. Tough life in summer Madrid,.. i know.

Here are some photos from Paris!

Because of this, i am celebrating by uploading a bunch of photos from Valencia! they might not get here until tomorrow. I didn’t have my crack instant coffee tonight.

justttt kidding

I’m trying to decide whether words can even convey the V for Vendettaish crescendo of symphonies and lights tonight in Parque Buen Retiro for La feria de San Isidro going on this week. However, I have come to conclude that, like V says, ‘Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth.’ So Besides the astonishing video I have put below that captures a bit of the remarkable moments of the evening, I’d like to mention how completely in shock I still am….I’m probably now going to go into a poetic rambling of some sort…yeaaa

Thousands flocked to the park tonight, making our 10 minutes before the performance arrival a bit impractical for a good view….. So in the spontaneity of our youth, we used all of our strength to climb the walls of an outside cafe up to its roof, where our view may have just been the best seat in the park..As the show began, I planted my elbow on the back of the cement sculpture of a lion overlooking the lake…where the water began to spit out some greens, oranges, reds, and blues of colors that evoked a series of endless sensations….And I almost thought the entire monumental structure centered on the side of lake was going to explode from the energy..

There was a phenomenal motion of sound that vibrated though my insides. With every large blast of light that illuminated the sky, so enlightened was my entire being…i closed my eyes and imagined a world where all could come together to see these thunders of greens, reds, and blues….being blissfully swept away by the capabilities of mankind…. I felt that for once, I was united with a people that could share a same universal appreciation for the collaborations of the human mind and the natural element…In this shared appreciation we feel comforted, in comfort we feel unified, in unification we are identifiable, in identity we stand together… tonight we stood on the same ground, in the same city, in the same park, around the same lake, in the same awe. I felt very Madrileño tonight, perhaps just because I was sharing the same vision…which indeed, was only a fraction of the overwhelming sensations I experienced. The other pieces of the pie were derived from the classical music, light, and water images flooding out into the night sky– entering into my eyes, heart, mind– circulating within from the air that I welcomed with every gasp keeping me alive and craving more. I pleaded for time to stop as each firework reached it’s climatic outburst. This must have been another moment marking my supreme well-being. One of those truly happy times!

A little deep? I know I know, sorry….It’s 4:40 am and im waking up in 3 hours to go to Valencia…….umm Woooo !!!!!

Enjoy this video! Sorry about my filming. I was turning it sideways so I could get the fireworks in, etc… You know, don’t give me attitude because you have to cock your head.

holy crap! did you see the fireballs?

My first time socially experimenting my love for running through the city here was months ago…After over a half an hour of seeing the painfully scrunched eyebrows of passerbys, those little black inchworms staggering on their foreheads… I began to wonder if this wasn’t culturally appropriate. My goodness! i thought. I can’t even exercise, the one thing that could give me the endorphins I’ve been dying for in this country, and their eyes have burned the rubber of my shoes right off. So I stopped to find myself walking barefoot and thereafter condemned to yoga and crunches within the comfort of my own 4 walls.

No! No. Yesterday, no. Last week, no! I’m tired of imagining that there are Madrid lazers hoovering over my body. When I went for a run yesterday, my feverish mind was screaming for them to try and target me as I dashed about down the road. This time, they’d have to burn my legs right off of my body to stop me from doing anything. Even then I’d still be hopping around clenching my fists in the air, shouting, Conyo madriz! Has robado todo lo que tengo! Mi dinero, mis moviles, mi carnet y ya mis piernas para que me pierdas y me calles en esta ciudad… pero sabes algo madrid?… mi voz, nunca la tendrás! Nunca bb Nunca!

Needless to say, it was another revolutionary practice I’ve been having in the past few weeks. And not one person even attempted to melt the soles of my shoes… the soul of my shoes…

How many tonterias have I really let myself succumb to in this country?

Scattering out the door to go chat with Diego about the past perfect. I have many more thoughts to share.

(La Latina)

I did some don quijote-ing this afternoon in La Latina. Had a cafe con leche y bocadillo in a little cafeteria… I’m still hoping to find a Sancho Panza to accompany me in my adventures but I don’t know how much they’d tolerate my random public singing in the streets….or the awful sense of direction I possess…or the fact that I stop at every chino shop and try to read the characters…

Random act of kindness: an old man in the cafeteria bought me a beautiful red rose, delicately handed it to me, smiled, and then left without explanation.

The city gets warmer, and I can appreciate it more than anyone because I spent too many days in the cold.

Check. Credit Cards and phone have been restored. Still searching for a nice wallet though. Nothing will replace my cheap metal cigarette holder and it’s black snake-skin cover that barely heald my cards and cash.. sigh..missing you. Trying to describe that while filing a police report was entirely too exhausting.

A few things to report back to my mother country about–

1. Grapple with my new Spanish Friend
7:00 a.m., just getting back to the house, after a night of Puerto Ricans + Spaniard +yo , loud voices, photographs and calimochos…. He refers to himself as “No soy español. Soy Europeo.” It first appeared to me that he might be on crack cocaine. But it came to be that he’s just a jack in the box. Haha, impressive…BLAH! Just like that. He’s really odd. From the time I met him, he seems to just run through life without thought or ties, and seems to be in the same sort of identity crisis as myself–an attraction to individuals that are not from my own country. He just quit his job last night and now wants to move to Hawaii. Do you understand the picture I am trying to paint here?

Our fight took place in the middle of the streets, the night before my life was stolen. My spanish is so much better when I am yelling. Still trying to figure out why. However, some of the time I felt that there was so much more to say, and my mouth couldn’t speak as fast as my mind was thinking. I hate that. It was because of language of course. I’m right on cue in english, let’s not be misunderstood.

My perceptions of spaniards changed dramatically on this night. A lot was to be learned. After describing the pains of loneliness, and dramatically emphasizing how evil Madrileños are and it’s alienating affects it played on my abroad experience, I have realized how many horrible stereotypes I have created in my head. He, of course, was feeding it right back to me, describing how Americans act the same way here (which I won, due to the fact that I travelled to Spain alone without the American-alienating-comfort/support-group program..If that is offensive to those in American programs I do apologize) , begging for me to understand that spaniards are not this way, and fighting for me to discover that I am not alone. At the beginning, I simply figured, oh, well we just met. He has no idea. We spit fire at each other for two hours, feeding off of the stereotypes of our cultures. As the Spanish/American bloodbath was dying down both started to realize that in all ways possible, neither one of us fit our cultural stereotypes at all. Once we came to this conclusion, we sat down on the steps and decided an appropriate time to take a walk the next day because it was 9 in the morning. Later I found that he went to another bar, met people there, and partied until 12 in the afternoon. Haha, I love it!

Back to my stereotype issue. I think that it was developed, of course, before I came to Spain. I had heard that it would be difficult to make friends here, and when someone was unfriendly to me, I tended to blame it on the whole, on the people of Madrid. I’m really over my expectations and assumptions. The second I came to this understanding was when I really started enjoying everything with an open heart.

2. That was long, let’s get the ball rolling…Crazy Universidad Autonoma de Madrid.

My university is currently having another protest. I’m sure I told you the one before about the cleaning workers on strike? The students took it upon themselves to partake, by shredding newspapers, and throwing cafeteria food all through the halls of the philosophy department. I actually saw a kid finish his lunch and turn his tray of leftovers upside down in the middle of the hall. It wasn’t cleaned for a week and a half.

Last week and this week, there is a protest for Becas, or scholarship funding. Apparently the university is not funding enough money for their 350 euro/semestre tuition. There are spray paintings all over the grounds, tents pitched outside on the quad, and signs hung from every tree, hall, and staircase. I laugh every time I walk by it as I think to myself, if you knew what I pay every year you wouldn’t complain. Although the euro is pulverizing the dollar, i believe 47,000 per year will still win. Then again, I’m not proud of that either and wish to camp out at AU upon my return.

3. Club in the Train Station?

Yes. Atocha train station features a night club named “Ananda” and it was a force to be reckoned with. One room was veiled in all white surroundings. Completely spotless and so ‘au courant’. hahaha. It started filling at around 3 a.m. The music was latin and I about died and went to heaven. Typical.

The other room had this deep maroon glow going on, with ridiculously detailed chandelier swirls coming down from the ceiling. My good friend and I found the air conditioning vent and had a dance party. We laughed, thinking, why is there no one else around us here? This is a great spot! It was probably because they couldn’t compete with our sick dance moves. Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it was.

Another good thing to mention is that before we went there, we had dinner at La Casa de Tortilla, where you pay 12 euros, and receive an all you can eat and drink supply of beer, sangria, and tapas…..hence great dance moves?

4. Restaurante Alquimista Bar desconocido and Jazz
In Bilbao, Restaurante Alquimista was the place where we bought a flower pot of sangria. A great place to start, or end, depending on how much of it you drink. Haha.. I started there, but should have ended there. Afterwards, a large pack of us wandered to a bar, which was interesting. Plastered all over the walls were large posters of jimmy hendrix, bob marley, and other classics. That night, I met some very wonderful people, mainly students from Georgetown. I’d like to think that many of the friendships I have made here in Spain will spill over into the district when I come home.

Jazz…. Ah jazzzzzz. Finally! A jazz venue. I’ve been dying to find one for such a long time here in Madrid. This particular night featured a typical band of a bass, guitar, drums, and sax– but the music was outstanding. My friend and I made ourselves believe that we actually saw the sound coming out of the sax. “What color was the sound?” “I think it was purple.” I can’t decide whether it was because I was just in heaven for the fact that I found it, or because I was in excellent company, or if it was that the sound was actually of great quality. I can’t really tell with jazz. The instruments are such a compilation of off-beat cacaphonies that it’s hard to really know if it was on purpose or there was fault. Especially in the change of lead instrument. I’m going to think that it was meant to be that way. Besides, that’s how I think about everything in general.

5. REAL MADRID V. BARCELONA.

I’m going to start this off with a frown because yes, everyone knows, Barcelona lost…4-0. … It was a sad, sad day for Barcelona and the heavens cried. Rain, everywhere. I had to hide my sadness on the inside and cry silently. Madrileños certainly went out of their way to rub it in every fan’s face. The stadium consumed thousands and thousands of people. Before the game, everyone was running spittlingly drunk and lighting bonfires in the middle of the streets. Covered in purple, in white, in flags, bandanas, face paint, …and annoying noise clappers–i’ve never seen anything like it. They screamed curses and insults as barça came through the crowded zealots. They waved flags and banners that denounced the catalanes. Much of the fanatical tension between the two is based on political reasons, if you weren’t aware. A ticket three weeks ago would have cost me over 500 euros so that just didn’t happen. I should have planned things out better and bought one months ago. I did, roam the stadium for an hour and try to steal a madrid fan’s ticket. I just wanted to snatch it and run wild, screaming, YEA MADRID THAT’S WHAT YOU GET! HIJO DE PUTA! BAHAHAHA!

Nonetheless, my crazy spanish friend Nico, in number 1… apologies for not introducing his name, went with me to a bar about 50 feet from the stadium to watch the game there. It was packed tight of Real fans but I live here so there isn’t much I can do. The bartender had a crush on me and gave me three glasses of wine for free.. haha.. Nico left early and I finished watching the game. While suffering the painful loss, I met a large group of spaniards there, and they asked me to join them in going to a different place around the area. So all of us left and went to an Irish pub close to my apartment and enjoyed the rest of the night there! Lo pasamos muy bien, son de buena gente y muy geniales!

Today I had classes which punished me for staying out so late. But it was the GAME OF THE YEAR. Much more important than an introduction to the international society with my merciless, and ironically insensitive-to-intenational-students professor that was blabbing this morning.

I’m trying to think of other exciting events that happened this weekend, but this blog has already gotten to novel lengths, and I wouldn’t want you to lose interest in my amount of words. Hopefully you at least read one of my numbers.

I did have some excellent bus thoughts today, most of them about this book I am reading called “The Bridge of San Luis Rey” by Thorten Wilder. Incredible.
One of my favorite quotes:
“The Archbishop knew that most of the priests of Peru were scoundrels…He had to repeat over to himself his favorite notions; that the injustice and unhappiness in the world is a constant; that the theory of progress is a delusion; that the poor, never having known happiness, are insensible to misfortune.”

FIfteen minutes of the bus is such an exercise to my mind.

hasta luego