From my mother, I have learned many things. Having high-expectations of myself is one, having high-expectations of others is another, having high-expectations of men is something in a whole other ballpark.
I do think she taught me well, as when I am operating by her/my standards there is very little bullshit involved. It either is or it isn't and we go from there.
My mom is one tough-cookie, and through her own situations in her life she has made herself what she is... super-strong, passionate, and multi-talented, not to mention an excellent mother and awesome grandmother. I love hearing stories about her growing up. How she broke in her own pony (Apache), how she would make money from the neighborhood kids by charging two coke bottles to ride Apache. How she caught a field on fire and then tried to put it tried to put out with a mason-jar of water. How she was a tomboy turned Homecoming Queen, who made all of her own clothes including her wedding dress... and many years later earned a black-belt in karate.
My mom is amazing. I don't think there is anything that if she wanted to learn how to do, she couldn't. I can only hope that I can leave the impression she has on me, on my own sons/daughters... God knows if I don't, Nama Deb will! =o)
But getting back to the point of this...In my time as her daughter, there have been many things that she has taught me that most men -- and people in general-- don't know how to do. As she would say "that's just unacceptable"... and I tend to agree. So, since I am in a list making mode, here are the things my mother has taught me that everyone should know how to do:
1) Drive a stick-shift ( ie 5 or 6 speed).
2) Ask for directions.
3) Iron.
4) Be willing to take the time to teach someone how to do something new.
5) Make a 3 or 4 course meal with fresh ingredients -- preferably from the back yard.
6) Bait a fishing hook.
7) Know which plants are poison ivy and stay away.
8) Build a fire -- both in and out of doors.
9) Manage a budget.
10) Arrive on time, and call if you are running late.
11) Give thoughtful and meaningful gifts.
12) Be creative.
13) Dare to wander out on a limb... that is where the fruit is.
14) Plan a party for 30 and have it go off without a hitch.
15) Know the value of your own time, and be selective when spending it.
16) Take care of someone else.
17) Be considerate/chivalrous.
18) Wash a car... and wax it.
19) Plant a plant and have it last longer than a year.
20) Sand and refinish furniture.
21) Don't be afraid to tell someone your expectations of them, but in doing so, don't lower your expectations of yourself and your own life.
22) Live life outside of the box. Or in it... but own your decisions and be happy.
23) Never be too old to climb a tree, swing or jump on a trampoline.
24) Believe that you can have any and everything you want... thinking/believing truly does make it so.
25) Don't forget to say thank you, especially when you are thankful for having someone in your life.
Mom, I am so thankful I am your daughter. And since its Mother's Day weekend in Spain, I figure why not celebrate in America too? Here's to you!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Absolute Bullshit.
After Sunday's bullfight, I was ready to do one thing. Pack my bags and leave this country that supports such incredible acts fo animal cruelty. I was a bit traumatized to say the least. Spain’s national past-time of bullfighting is the most barbaric and cruel “sport” I have EVER witnessed.Granted I did not do my research when I bought my ticket, but everyone who offered advice on what to see and do in Spain said seeing a bullfight was a must, so I was thrilled when I purchased my ticket on Friday afternoon. The way I was feeling when I walked into Plaza de Toros, you would have thought it was the GA vs. FL game... set in ATHENS! (if only that were possible... GO DAWGS!) But this is only to give you an idea of what I thought I was here to see.
I guess in my mind, I thought it was a fair “fight” of man vs. beast, and the one who out-smarted the other won. Kind of like boxing. Both “fighters” train, they go in the ring with their skills, and one comes out the winner. No one bothered to tell me that in a bull-fight there is NOTHING FAIR about it, AND the bull DIES. And if you stay for the full enjoyment of the afternoon, you can watch SIX BULLS be put to death...for no apparent good purpose.
When I found my seat in Plaza de Toros, it took me a while to figure out how this game was played.
There were the torreros, dressed in funny costumes with pink tights and pink and yellow capes. There was a bull, usually black. There was a man on a horse with a long spear, and the horse was blindfolded and had its ears covered. (this should have been a sign that nothing good was happening in this arena). Then there is the lead torero that has a sword and red cape and an even more colorful costume.
Basically it goes like this: A bull is released into the arena. The “jesters” all run at him with pink capes to excite him, and when he charges they run behind a wooden gate. The bull keeps running and bashes his head, or attempts to stop and just bashes his horns, either way wood chips go flying.
This game of hide-and-seek lasts about 10 minutes. Then the drums start, and the man on the horse comes out. When the bull sees the horse he immediately attempts to make friends, at which point the man with the spear pierces the bulls head, and blood begins to ooze down the bulls back. The bull gets pissed, and usually charges the blindfolded horse, often taking him down along with the man with the spear.
If this happens, the jesters begin running around with their pink capes again to get the bull away. Once the horse is up, the jesters come out with feathered darts that they throw onto the bulls back where the piercing had happened. These darts dig into the bulls skin, so the more he tries to get rid of them, the deeper they penetrate. At this point, there is blood gushing all over the animal and then the torrero comes out to finish him off. He spins the bull in circles with the cape dance – ie., makes him dizzy and ultimately falling on his knees – and then he takes the spear and sticks it ALL THE WAY into its head. The bull then kneels all the way, falls on its side and dies. 
(This is the most well-known Torrero in Madrid. He is on all the posters. One word: MURDERER!)
(those are not feathers... but feather tipped DAGGERS)
THEN if that were not enough, the lead ‘jester’ comes running out with a dagger, and sticks it between the bulls horns and wiggles it back in forth until all movement from the bull ceases. Then the trumpets start, and a chariot of horses enters the arena and then they drag the dead bull out.
I could not believe I had been roped into seeing such non-sense. It was the most brutal treatment of animals I have ever personally witnessed, and I am truly ashamed that I spent 13Euros to see such barbarickness. NEVER AGAIN.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
10 Funny Things
Being in the world for 10 days, stopping in four different cities, and getting used to life out of a suitcase, I have been able to observe myself in a different way than I have at any other point in my life. Most of my days are spent with me, as are most of my nights. In ten days, here are ten quirky things that I have observed about myself:
1) I will talk to myself if I think no one is around.
2) I am kind of afraid of the dark, and will leave the curtain open so the moon can be a "night light".
3) Castles and fortresses appeal to my dreamy side and immediately make the day's agenda. (What do I think I am going to find, a prince?)
4) I can be a bit of an asshole and assume that guidebooks are wrong and are leading me no where... and then ta-da, I end up being right where they say I should.
5) When it comes to lodging I am a bit high maintenance. I need a room on the highest floor possible, facing the street, and far from elevators/staircases.
6) I always think I am "Merlin the Magician" when it comes to packing, and of course everything is going to fit inside my suitcase. I just wave my wand and "abbracadabra!"...Unfortunately at that point, my clothes have not shrunk and my bag has not gotten any bigger.
7) If I don't get enough sleep (ie., more than 4 hours) I turn into a very sensitive and emotional soul and I am bound to find something -- either beautiful or sad -- to get weepy about especially if there is music or a train involved.
8) I dislike routines. There has not been two days that I have gotten up at the same time, gone to bed at the same time, had a meal at the same time or done remotely close to the same thing.
9) I don't have a need for TV. Two of the four places I have stayed have had them and I have not even bothered to turn them on to see if they work.
10) "Life is (always) too short" for money to be an option when its something I really want.
So that's me in 10 days. By the time I make it back to the States, I am going to be such a dork... but a well traveled dork, for sure!
1) I will talk to myself if I think no one is around.
2) I am kind of afraid of the dark, and will leave the curtain open so the moon can be a "night light".
3) Castles and fortresses appeal to my dreamy side and immediately make the day's agenda. (What do I think I am going to find, a prince?)
4) I can be a bit of an asshole and assume that guidebooks are wrong and are leading me no where... and then ta-da, I end up being right where they say I should.
5) When it comes to lodging I am a bit high maintenance. I need a room on the highest floor possible, facing the street, and far from elevators/staircases.
6) I always think I am "Merlin the Magician" when it comes to packing, and of course everything is going to fit inside my suitcase. I just wave my wand and "abbracadabra!"...Unfortunately at that point, my clothes have not shrunk and my bag has not gotten any bigger.
7) If I don't get enough sleep (ie., more than 4 hours) I turn into a very sensitive and emotional soul and I am bound to find something -- either beautiful or sad -- to get weepy about especially if there is music or a train involved.
8) I dislike routines. There has not been two days that I have gotten up at the same time, gone to bed at the same time, had a meal at the same time or done remotely close to the same thing.
9) I don't have a need for TV. Two of the four places I have stayed have had them and I have not even bothered to turn them on to see if they work.
10) "Life is (always) too short" for money to be an option when its something I really want.
So that's me in 10 days. By the time I make it back to the States, I am going to be such a dork... but a well traveled dork, for sure!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A tale of Sex, Cigarettes and Champagne.
As I got ready to meet up with Jose on Saturday, I kept asking myself "why are you doing this?" I was exhausted, and the last time I hung out with his guy he practically ate my arm. BUT, he had also cured my asthma, and he is alot of fun when he is not trying to have my body parts for dinner.
So, I put on the one "date dress" I brought from the States and head to the lobby.
This was one of those encounters where I should have just waited in my room, for two reasons:
1) He was late. WHICH I CANNOT STAND, but seems to be in accordance with other Spanish timetables.
2) Jose has no filter. Which for the statement above, resulted in this....
I am awaiting patiently, wondering if I should grab an espresso to get me out of my Saturday funk, and suddenly a piercing whistle splits the air, followed by “My dear, you are totally smashing! Stand up, let me have a look at you. Turn... keep turning...” Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. Given that a reception was going on in the adjacent room, and many of the guests were in the lobby, I was beyond embarrassed. I had yet to sping for an espresso so my mental speed is still lost somewhere under the trees in Retiro. Dear lord. The things I sign myself up for.
Out on the streets, Jose is all over the place. Acting like a torrero when I mention Sunday's bullfight, being a flamenco dancer when I mention seeing a show... This guy is no joke. He was born Spanish, and he knows all the steps to any role I could ask him to play. At this point, the only thing is dinner and him deciding where to go.
Low and behold we end up at a place FOUNDED in 1642. The restaurant has literally been open for over 350 years. That's older than Pete's Tavern... or the United States!
The location was on Cava Braja, the oldest street in Spain. I let Jose do the ordering, as I was in experiential mode and would try anything once. There had yet to be anything I was not loving in Spain, so I am sure this would be more of the same.
As I mentioned in earlier postings, Jose is a Reiki Master. He has mastered all four types – Traditional, Japanese, Tibetan, and Karuna. For those of you, unfamiliar with Reiki (I happen to be quite familiar as my mother used to do reiki treatments), its basically a form of therapy that deals with moving energy around – removing ‘bad energy’ to unblock chakras, channeling good, and overall making ensuring that an individual “flows”. Reiki practitioners “feel” these energy sources and get things going in the right direction.
As I said my mother is a practitioner, and has given me treatments before. She has never tried to do so over dinner. This was not the case with Jose. Throughout our meal of traditional Spanish dishes and Rioja, he kept saying “let me see something…” It was very annoying – although somewhat informative in an odd way. Lots of wine later, and we made our way out onto the crowded street, I couldn’t quite figure out if I had had dinner, or been to the doctor’s office.
When we left Cava Braja in search of a fun after dinner bar, everyone had something on their mind. And when we set down it became clear. I ordered a bottle of champagne (its Spain, so we had Cava) and Jose went looking for "ciggies". When he came back with a box, I could clearly see how this night is going to go. I will drink almost the entire of bottle of Cava (its my fave), and he will have almost the entire box of smokes. With me drinking the bottle, it was going to be a long night.
The conversation that pursued was a bit whacky, as Spanish men seem to want to tell you EVERYTHING about their lives. I learn that not only is Jose a Reiki master, but a sex therapist -- and what a tough job that is. Why men think they need to share the intimate details of EVERYTHING is way beyond me. But it was entertaining... in a strange way. Fortunately he kept it PG-13, or better. I prefer to not make scenes -- or over the top conversations -- in public places -- regardless of the hour, or common language shared.
As he walked me back to my hotel, Jose reminded me of the offer to visit the Canary's. I wasn't too keen and going and staying with him for a week, although he is a fun guy. When he told me I would have my own apt on the coast and he was traveling after his bday for work... well, why not? You only live once and I can always use a vacay... even if in the middle of a vacay!
So, I put on the one "date dress" I brought from the States and head to the lobby.
This was one of those encounters where I should have just waited in my room, for two reasons:
1) He was late. WHICH I CANNOT STAND, but seems to be in accordance with other Spanish timetables.
2) Jose has no filter. Which for the statement above, resulted in this....
I am awaiting patiently, wondering if I should grab an espresso to get me out of my Saturday funk, and suddenly a piercing whistle splits the air, followed by “My dear, you are totally smashing! Stand up, let me have a look at you. Turn... keep turning...” Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. Given that a reception was going on in the adjacent room, and many of the guests were in the lobby, I was beyond embarrassed. I had yet to sping for an espresso so my mental speed is still lost somewhere under the trees in Retiro. Dear lord. The things I sign myself up for.
Out on the streets, Jose is all over the place. Acting like a torrero when I mention Sunday's bullfight, being a flamenco dancer when I mention seeing a show... This guy is no joke. He was born Spanish, and he knows all the steps to any role I could ask him to play. At this point, the only thing is dinner and him deciding where to go.
Low and behold we end up at a place FOUNDED in 1642. The restaurant has literally been open for over 350 years. That's older than Pete's Tavern... or the United States!
The location was on Cava Braja, the oldest street in Spain. I let Jose do the ordering, as I was in experiential mode and would try anything once. There had yet to be anything I was not loving in Spain, so I am sure this would be more of the same.
As I mentioned in earlier postings, Jose is a Reiki Master. He has mastered all four types – Traditional, Japanese, Tibetan, and Karuna. For those of you, unfamiliar with Reiki (I happen to be quite familiar as my mother used to do reiki treatments), its basically a form of therapy that deals with moving energy around – removing ‘bad energy’ to unblock chakras, channeling good, and overall making ensuring that an individual “flows”. Reiki practitioners “feel” these energy sources and get things going in the right direction.
As I said my mother is a practitioner, and has given me treatments before. She has never tried to do so over dinner. This was not the case with Jose. Throughout our meal of traditional Spanish dishes and Rioja, he kept saying “let me see something…” It was very annoying – although somewhat informative in an odd way. Lots of wine later, and we made our way out onto the crowded street, I couldn’t quite figure out if I had had dinner, or been to the doctor’s office.
When we left Cava Braja in search of a fun after dinner bar, everyone had something on their mind. And when we set down it became clear. I ordered a bottle of champagne (its Spain, so we had Cava) and Jose went looking for "ciggies". When he came back with a box, I could clearly see how this night is going to go. I will drink almost the entire of bottle of Cava (its my fave), and he will have almost the entire box of smokes. With me drinking the bottle, it was going to be a long night.
The conversation that pursued was a bit whacky, as Spanish men seem to want to tell you EVERYTHING about their lives. I learn that not only is Jose a Reiki master, but a sex therapist -- and what a tough job that is. Why men think they need to share the intimate details of EVERYTHING is way beyond me. But it was entertaining... in a strange way. Fortunately he kept it PG-13, or better. I prefer to not make scenes -- or over the top conversations -- in public places -- regardless of the hour, or common language shared.
As he walked me back to my hotel, Jose reminded me of the offer to visit the Canary's. I wasn't too keen and going and staying with him for a week, although he is a fun guy. When he told me I would have my own apt on the coast and he was traveling after his bday for work... well, why not? You only live once and I can always use a vacay... even if in the middle of a vacay!
Saturday Slowdown
When I got up on Saturday, I was feeling a little run down. Maybe it was from being out late the night before. Maybe it was just being tired. But whatever it was, I woke up feeling like I needed a siesta and the feeling never quite left as the day progressed. I felt weary and a little somber, and the reason for my feelings I could not begin to tell you.
I went to the Prado, which is huge and quite an undertaking. It truly was torture being inside knowing it was 24 degrees Celcius outside. I got my map, and planned to be very efficient with my time, seeing mainly the masterpieces (there were at least a 100 on the guide), and a few others I had my eye on. Even with trying to be speedy, my visit lasted 3 hours, and then I was really exhausted and in need of a coffee, which I found.
My morning runs had told me the park was nearby, and I went to the pond by the statue of lions and found a place in the sun to spend my afternoon. I had my book, I had my journal, I had a few people to catch up with from home, I had an afternoon plan.
I dozed off for about an hour, read some, talked some, and got a few thoughts down in my journal until Jose called to make plans for that evening. He was in desperate need of some “summerly clothes” he said and wanted to know if I would come with.
At this point the sun was setting – it was nearly 6 –so I agreed to meet him. Also, at this point my phone dies, sending the next 2 hours into a bubble of chaos. Needless to say, I did not make it to said shopping area as I was a bit lost. But I did get to see sunset on the Real Palace and the Theater, plus about 6 brides in the park (seriously, I had flash backs to being in Copenhagen on 7/07/07 and the line of couples waiting to get married in every church I passed during the day). I guess the first Saturday of Spring was primetime in Madrid.
Anyway, I get back to my hotel and get in touch with Jose, who has new clothes and will be at my place in an hour. Tonight was going to be interesting… no doubt about that.
I went to the Prado, which is huge and quite an undertaking. It truly was torture being inside knowing it was 24 degrees Celcius outside. I got my map, and planned to be very efficient with my time, seeing mainly the masterpieces (there were at least a 100 on the guide), and a few others I had my eye on. Even with trying to be speedy, my visit lasted 3 hours, and then I was really exhausted and in need of a coffee, which I found.
My morning runs had told me the park was nearby, and I went to the pond by the statue of lions and found a place in the sun to spend my afternoon. I had my book, I had my journal, I had a few people to catch up with from home, I had an afternoon plan.
I dozed off for about an hour, read some, talked some, and got a few thoughts down in my journal until Jose called to make plans for that evening. He was in desperate need of some “summerly clothes” he said and wanted to know if I would come with.
At this point the sun was setting – it was nearly 6 –so I agreed to meet him. Also, at this point my phone dies, sending the next 2 hours into a bubble of chaos. Needless to say, I did not make it to said shopping area as I was a bit lost. But I did get to see sunset on the Real Palace and the Theater, plus about 6 brides in the park (seriously, I had flash backs to being in Copenhagen on 7/07/07 and the line of couples waiting to get married in every church I passed during the day). I guess the first Saturday of Spring was primetime in Madrid.
Anyway, I get back to my hotel and get in touch with Jose, who has new clothes and will be at my place in an hour. Tonight was going to be interesting… no doubt about that.
Meet Jose
Jose is my friend from Barcelona. Mr. Reiki I have called him. He spotted me on Las Ramblas my second day in the city, and was convinced that we would play a role in each others lives for days and years to come. I think he may be right, although that was not how I initially saw this going. He gave up his corporate job to become a Reiki therapist, and moved to the Canary Islands to be close to volcanoes and paradise. I have always admired people who step out on their own to do what they love. And from conversations with Jose, I am rediscovering what I can offer the world that doesn't hang out under a corporate umbrella.
This guy is OVER THE TOP in his mannerism, but also very serious about his work... a nice junxtaposition that I can be friends with.
He was born on the 2nd (of April) as well, and I tend to be friends with many people who have "2" as a starting date.
After an evening out in Madrid -- how we ended up in the same city again is BEYOND me, we are both nomadding our way around Spain -- I left the night with an invitation to visit the Canary's (islands) anytime I liked and with the promise that I would always have a friend in the world. I promised to help him bring his business to NYC through my contacts in Human Resources. Sounds like a trade-off to me!
Meet Sam
Sam is the second guy I met in Madrid, after Javi. Sam is an MBAer who drives a taxi at night, and my driver from 'Fantasy' to my hotel. He is Parisian, turn Canaria Islander, turned Madrileno while he gets his degree.
He is all about himself, which I don't mind as long as I don't have to spend too much time with him. But, he is also very hospitable in ensuring I knew my may around the cool parts of town.
He is one of those people that I would describe as "gorgeous" but I really don't mean "gorgeous". That is simply my word for someone who spends way too much time trying to look "fabulous". Look at him... its clear he spends way too much time putting that look together.
Meet Javier
As I go places and meet new faces, their names become apart of my every day vocabulary. And I use them that way in my blog, which I am guessing for those who read frequently, may like to know more about these names/faces with whom I am spending time.
So, as we enter Madrid, meet Javier...
Javier, is a friend of my dear friend Sarah. The two met working on Mastercard at McCann-Erickson, she from NYC, he from Madrid. When she was traveling in Spain two years ago, he was her guide. And now he is mine.
Javi uses the word "fuckin" like most people use "like"... ALL THE TIME. Everything is "fuckin' this', "fuckin' that", "fuckin' unbelieveable"...I think you can get the picture. I was raised in the south, and I still get a bit on edge when someone says the "f-word". (I rarely use it, unless I have had WAY too much to drink or am REALLY scared, or TOTALLY pissed off).
When I met Javi he did not have a job, when I last saw him before I left Madrid he had received a job that morning. We laugh that I am his good luck charm... I think I am.=o)
Javi is the one who took me to "Fantasy".
So, as we enter Madrid, meet Javier...
Javier, is a friend of my dear friend Sarah. The two met working on Mastercard at McCann-Erickson, she from NYC, he from Madrid. When she was traveling in Spain two years ago, he was her guide. And now he is mine.
Javi uses the word "fuckin" like most people use "like"... ALL THE TIME. Everything is "fuckin' this', "fuckin' that", "fuckin' unbelieveable"...I think you can get the picture. I was raised in the south, and I still get a bit on edge when someone says the "f-word". (I rarely use it, unless I have had WAY too much to drink or am REALLY scared, or TOTALLY pissed off).
When I met Javi he did not have a job, when I last saw him before I left Madrid he had received a job that morning. We laugh that I am his good luck charm... I think I am.=o)
Javi is the one who took me to "Fantasy".
Marvelous Madrid
I really enjoyed my days in Madrid. In the end, I spent almost an entire week in this terrific city. There was so much to do, to see, and the weather was incredible. Many afternoons I would find myself half-asleep in the giant park – Retiro—trying to read while the sun warmed my face. Absolutely divine. It was this sunny weather that often made being indoors at the Prado, or Reine Sofia seem like a chore…but I would get through it, get my culture-fix for the day, and then go find my place in the sun to daydream or read. My days here were quite lovely.
Knowing people here helped– Javier was my official guide, but reconnecting with Jose, meeting Sam and Matheus, plus several of Javi’s friends really added a dimension to the city and made me feel at ease. I loved spending my mornings and afternoons as I wished, and then meeting up with one of my new friends in the evening for drinks, dinner or both. All good times, and all good stories to share which I will detail shortly.
Cultural highlights of Madrid include the Palace, Thyssen museum, the Prado, and the many cathedrals throughout the city. Retiro Park was my favorite place to get lost in. Plaza Major was perfect for drinks at dusk, and Plaza Sant Ana was my favorite spot for night-time fun. I loved El Rastro Mercado on Sunday morning. I could have done without seeing a bullfight (I am still kind of pissed off I wasn’t clued into what I was going to witness). Dinners on Cava Braja were amazing, as was shoe shopping on Calle Auguste Figeroa.
Madrilenos are a quirky bunch, but I have always been drawn to quirkiness. I loved being a part of their city for almost a week, and I look forward to the day I return.
Knowing people here helped– Javier was my official guide, but reconnecting with Jose, meeting Sam and Matheus, plus several of Javi’s friends really added a dimension to the city and made me feel at ease. I loved spending my mornings and afternoons as I wished, and then meeting up with one of my new friends in the evening for drinks, dinner or both. All good times, and all good stories to share which I will detail shortly.
Cultural highlights of Madrid include the Palace, Thyssen museum, the Prado, and the many cathedrals throughout the city. Retiro Park was my favorite place to get lost in. Plaza Major was perfect for drinks at dusk, and Plaza Sant Ana was my favorite spot for night-time fun. I loved El Rastro Mercado on Sunday morning. I could have done without seeing a bullfight (I am still kind of pissed off I wasn’t clued into what I was going to witness). Dinners on Cava Braja were amazing, as was shoe shopping on Calle Auguste Figeroa.
Madrilenos are a quirky bunch, but I have always been drawn to quirkiness. I loved being a part of their city for almost a week, and I look forward to the day I return.
Monday, March 23, 2009
These Mad Madrilenos!
The more time I spend in a city, the more I get to soak up their culture, nuiances and the parts of the city's daily life that is different from where I have been, and where I will be going.
Once I started exploring Madrid, I began to realize that these people are quirky...more so than anywhere else I have been. I think part of their tendencies can be attributed to the fact that they are Spanish, but the rest is simply Madrileno.
Two days into my Madrid meanderings I thought I would make a "top 10" list of the things I observed as odd, well after 5 full days here the list has expanded to God knows how many. Lets see how many we can count...
#1) "The Birds" at crosswalks. Instead of simply having a flashing green man to tell pedestrians its okay to cross the street, Madrilenos have added sound effects. Its a noise that sounds like a flock (giant flock) of birds in Central Park on Sunday mornings. It took me a bit to get this, and for a while I was the American idiot wondering where the birds were. (Thank God, I was wearing sunglasses so my confusion was a bit contained.)
#2) Museo de Jamon. (Ham Museum) This seems to be the Madrileno name for a large deli. It sound horrid to me, like I want to go in and see ham from 100 years ago... gross!
#3) They are the SLOWEST walkers in the world. No joke. I asked a man at my hotel how long it would take to get to the Prado, which looked VERY close on the map. He told me 20 minutes. 10 minutes later I am standing at the entrance.
#4) Pant suits. I think Hilary Clinton has spent some time in Madrid, and either she picked up her vibrant colored pant suits here or all women in Madrid are mimicking her. Needless to say its not a "souvenir" I spent a second looking for.
#5) Everyone I meet, says they don't speak English. Five seconds later we are having a vivid conversation about NYC and life in general. I wish I could say "I don't speak Spanish" (or French, Italian, etc) and speak as well as they do.
#6) The huge park - Parc de Madrid or Retiro - has hours, and a gate surrounding it to ensure that the hours are met. Don't think you can get up and be in the park prior to 9AM. You will be locked out.
#7) They have assigned seats in movie theaters. So, if you plan to go with your sweetie or someone in general, you have to purchase tickets together. And they give them to you in chronological order. SO, if you buy the first ticket for a showing you are sitting in the far right corner of the theater, and if a show has a decent audience, the first 6-7 rows of the theater are SOLID, and the remaining are empty. So silly. But these guys follow the rules and there is no 'cheating' the system.
#8) Adidas track suits. Didn't these go out of style in the 90s? Not here.
#9) Siestas. Siestas. Siestas. I would love to see our office shut down for a siesta... or even for everyone to go out for a 2 hour lunch...NOT HAPPENIN'.
#10) Women over the age of 45 have SUPER short hair. And its all the same cut. Variety, people! Come on.
#11) Sex Shops. Every city has 'sex shops'. That is what we refer to them as, but RARELY is that what the name of the store. In NYC we have Babes in Toyland, the Birthday Suit, and FantasyLand to name a few. (I used to live on W4th so I was familiar with the location and names). Here they have one name "Sex Shop". Hmmm...wonder what goes on in there?
#12) Assigned seats on trains. I think this is a TERRIFIC idea. I can't tell you how many times I have had to stand on trains to LI, CT or the Hamptons because there were no seats...or at least that I could see.
#13) Simultaneous Subways. This may just be coincidence, but the three times I used the metro yesterday, both trains (one going one way, one the other) entered the station at the EXACT same time. Wow. NYC will never be that organized.
#14) They suppport Bull-fighting. Enough said.
#15) Their Post Office is insane. Its larger then the Thyssen Museum, and much more ornate. It has 10 doors to enter, but only two that actually work. It can be totally empty, and you still have to take a number... and then you have to wait!
#16) Bread with tomatoes. This has been served in EVERY restaurant I have visited. In America we call this "bruschetta" here they call it "free".
#17) Mixed drinks. Ordering a mixed drink (captain and coke or vodka tonic) is like digging yourself out of a ditch. They give you a glass FULL of vodka -- assuming you ordered Vodka -- and then a bottle of whatever you are mixing it with, ie., tonic. You have to drink the vodka down to make room for the tonic. And these glasses are not small. In Spain, if I am drinking mixed drinks, I am the cheapest date EVER.
#18) Ordering drinks in restaurants. I feel sorry for wait staff in Spain. Here, it seems there is a lot of mistrust in ordering drinks in Spain, and a customer needs to see you POUR FROM THE BOTTLE -- whether that be a specific bottle of wine, specific liquor, or whatever. The way it works is like this... Lets say my book club goes out to dinner. Kenzie orders wine. Kelly orders a captain and diet. Julia orders a vodka tonic. Shawna orders white wine. I order champagne. The pour server must bring to the table 5 appropriate glasses. A bottle of red wine, as well as white. A bottle of champagne. A bottle of tonic. A bottle of Captain Morgan. AND THEN a coke and a bottle of tonic. SERIOUS LIFTING goes on here.
#19) 15 minutes is never 15 minutes. I think this is simply a world thing. But when any Madrileno has told me I would see him/her in 15 minutes... I wait, and I wait...
#20) "Clouds" do not exist. Not that I am complaining. But since I have been here I have not seen ONE.
#21) No hour is too early to have a drink or smoke a cigarette. (this probably applies to most cities)
#22) To-go cups. Many breakfast places have signs that say "cafe take-away", however I would not recommend this option. What they mean by this is they will give you a 4 oz. plastic cup, and pour a cafe or espresso into it and you can "take it away". Now, if the cup is plastic and the coffee is hot, does anyone else see the problem with this?
#23) Jelly beans on trains. What? The Spanish train system "Renfe", is quite nice.... once you learn there are assigned seats. During the trip someone will pass through and offer a basket of treats, which I thought were mints. I soon realized that I had three INDIVIDUALLY wrapped orange jelly beans! Variety, people!
#24) "You have beautiful eyes". I swear they teach this in school here. Its on an exam to graduate high school or something as it seems that if someone truly doesn't speak English, they know this one sentence.
#25) "After 8". This is the name for "Mint Chocolate Chip".
Once I started exploring Madrid, I began to realize that these people are quirky...more so than anywhere else I have been. I think part of their tendencies can be attributed to the fact that they are Spanish, but the rest is simply Madrileno.
Two days into my Madrid meanderings I thought I would make a "top 10" list of the things I observed as odd, well after 5 full days here the list has expanded to God knows how many. Lets see how many we can count...
#1) "The Birds" at crosswalks. Instead of simply having a flashing green man to tell pedestrians its okay to cross the street, Madrilenos have added sound effects. Its a noise that sounds like a flock (giant flock) of birds in Central Park on Sunday mornings. It took me a bit to get this, and for a while I was the American idiot wondering where the birds were. (Thank God, I was wearing sunglasses so my confusion was a bit contained.)
#2) Museo de Jamon. (Ham Museum) This seems to be the Madrileno name for a large deli. It sound horrid to me, like I want to go in and see ham from 100 years ago... gross!
#3) They are the SLOWEST walkers in the world. No joke. I asked a man at my hotel how long it would take to get to the Prado, which looked VERY close on the map. He told me 20 minutes. 10 minutes later I am standing at the entrance.
#4) Pant suits. I think Hilary Clinton has spent some time in Madrid, and either she picked up her vibrant colored pant suits here or all women in Madrid are mimicking her. Needless to say its not a "souvenir" I spent a second looking for.
#5) Everyone I meet, says they don't speak English. Five seconds later we are having a vivid conversation about NYC and life in general. I wish I could say "I don't speak Spanish" (or French, Italian, etc) and speak as well as they do.
#6) The huge park - Parc de Madrid or Retiro - has hours, and a gate surrounding it to ensure that the hours are met. Don't think you can get up and be in the park prior to 9AM. You will be locked out.
#7) They have assigned seats in movie theaters. So, if you plan to go with your sweetie or someone in general, you have to purchase tickets together. And they give them to you in chronological order. SO, if you buy the first ticket for a showing you are sitting in the far right corner of the theater, and if a show has a decent audience, the first 6-7 rows of the theater are SOLID, and the remaining are empty. So silly. But these guys follow the rules and there is no 'cheating' the system.
#8) Adidas track suits. Didn't these go out of style in the 90s? Not here.
#9) Siestas. Siestas. Siestas. I would love to see our office shut down for a siesta... or even for everyone to go out for a 2 hour lunch...NOT HAPPENIN'.
#10) Women over the age of 45 have SUPER short hair. And its all the same cut. Variety, people! Come on.
#11) Sex Shops. Every city has 'sex shops'. That is what we refer to them as, but RARELY is that what the name of the store. In NYC we have Babes in Toyland, the Birthday Suit, and FantasyLand to name a few. (I used to live on W4th so I was familiar with the location and names). Here they have one name "Sex Shop". Hmmm...wonder what goes on in there?
#12) Assigned seats on trains. I think this is a TERRIFIC idea. I can't tell you how many times I have had to stand on trains to LI, CT or the Hamptons because there were no seats...or at least that I could see.
#13) Simultaneous Subways. This may just be coincidence, but the three times I used the metro yesterday, both trains (one going one way, one the other) entered the station at the EXACT same time. Wow. NYC will never be that organized.
#14) They suppport Bull-fighting. Enough said.
#15) Their Post Office is insane. Its larger then the Thyssen Museum, and much more ornate. It has 10 doors to enter, but only two that actually work. It can be totally empty, and you still have to take a number... and then you have to wait!
#16) Bread with tomatoes. This has been served in EVERY restaurant I have visited. In America we call this "bruschetta" here they call it "free".
#17) Mixed drinks. Ordering a mixed drink (captain and coke or vodka tonic) is like digging yourself out of a ditch. They give you a glass FULL of vodka -- assuming you ordered Vodka -- and then a bottle of whatever you are mixing it with, ie., tonic. You have to drink the vodka down to make room for the tonic. And these glasses are not small. In Spain, if I am drinking mixed drinks, I am the cheapest date EVER.
#18) Ordering drinks in restaurants. I feel sorry for wait staff in Spain. Here, it seems there is a lot of mistrust in ordering drinks in Spain, and a customer needs to see you POUR FROM THE BOTTLE -- whether that be a specific bottle of wine, specific liquor, or whatever. The way it works is like this... Lets say my book club goes out to dinner. Kenzie orders wine. Kelly orders a captain and diet. Julia orders a vodka tonic. Shawna orders white wine. I order champagne. The pour server must bring to the table 5 appropriate glasses. A bottle of red wine, as well as white. A bottle of champagne. A bottle of tonic. A bottle of Captain Morgan. AND THEN a coke and a bottle of tonic. SERIOUS LIFTING goes on here.
#19) 15 minutes is never 15 minutes. I think this is simply a world thing. But when any Madrileno has told me I would see him/her in 15 minutes... I wait, and I wait...
#20) "Clouds" do not exist. Not that I am complaining. But since I have been here I have not seen ONE.
#21) No hour is too early to have a drink or smoke a cigarette. (this probably applies to most cities)
#22) To-go cups. Many breakfast places have signs that say "cafe take-away", however I would not recommend this option. What they mean by this is they will give you a 4 oz. plastic cup, and pour a cafe or espresso into it and you can "take it away". Now, if the cup is plastic and the coffee is hot, does anyone else see the problem with this?
#23) Jelly beans on trains. What? The Spanish train system "Renfe", is quite nice.... once you learn there are assigned seats. During the trip someone will pass through and offer a basket of treats, which I thought were mints. I soon realized that I had three INDIVIDUALLY wrapped orange jelly beans! Variety, people!
#24) "You have beautiful eyes". I swear they teach this in school here. Its on an exam to graduate high school or something as it seems that if someone truly doesn't speak English, they know this one sentence.
#25) "After 8". This is the name for "Mint Chocolate Chip".
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