Day One: Madrid

I feel like I'm committing some sort of crazy crime by writing in Engish right now. I think these are the first English words I have interacted with in almost 24 hours. Spanish immersion is such a good feeling!

First of all, I love Spain (so far). I have been in Madrid for about 14 hours now, but I feel like I have lived here for weeks. I knew this was a place I would enjoy the minute I left the airport. There was a pole outside the terminal covered in black letters that read, "Eres un heroe," or "You are a hero." I was sold.

The second sign indicating that I would love Spain was given to me by the taxi driver that took me to Adarana's. Within the first three minutes, we had embarked upon a discussion about Spain, FIFA, and nationalism. "No hay coches en las calles! Es que todo el mundo aqui esta viendo futbol, que es nuestra sangre y el deporte numero uno! Viva!" meaning "There are no cars in the streets! The whole world here is just watching football; it is our blood, the number one sport. Long live football!" He was so animated! The Spaniards I have had conversations with thus far are quite warm people. Although, no one does that whole oh-I-made-eye-contact-with-you-so-let-me-smile-at-you thing. I did not know this upon arrival. I love smiling at people! After a few puzzled (sometimes even suspicious) looks, though, I realized that I need to pull a "when in Rome" and wipe the smile off my face.

I reached Adarana's house at around 12 PM. She was home with her friend Oliver. Adarana is Brazillian, and Oliver is a straight up "Madrileño" (Madrid native). He was more than happy to share everything he knew about Madrid and Sevilla. I was a little self-conscious at first as I have not spoken about "real" topics in Spanish with perfect strangers before, but they were very welcoming and, within half an hour, I was more relaxed.

At about 1, Oliver and I went into the kitchen to make lunch. We decided to make cous cous, since Adarana is a vegetarian, and, without halal meat, I basically am, too. It was a blast. Neither of us had ever made cous cous before so we chopped up carrots, peppers, cauliflower, garlic, and beans, cooked the cous cous, and threw it all into a bowl. When Adarana came out and told us that the veggies had to be fried, we all got a good laugh out of it. Oliver and I wanted to make amends so we decided to pull out the veggies, fry them, and then re-assemble the meal. I had cut the pieces finely so sifting the veggies out of the cous cous was a mission, but it all turned out well. The discussion over lunch was intense. We discussed the conquest of Spain by the Moors and then the persecution that ensued. Ohh, political karma.

Adarana has people coming in and out of the apartment all the time. The most frequent visitor has been Lakhshman (who is Argentinian but a certified Brahman!). All three of these newly-made friends of mine here in Madrid are very "mind over body" and one-with-the-spirit kinds of people. They're conscious about the environment and what they put into their bodies, which is a relief. They also love Indian culture. We're going to pick up a cone of mehndi / henna tomorrow and see if we have what it takes to come up with a coherent design. I also offered to make daal tomorrow, if we're all home during a meal time. Doubt that'll happen. Adarana loves Bollywood movies and songs. I don't necessarily love either as much as she does, but I do love the way she prounces the words! Oh, and every other word out of her mouth is "acha, acha." So cute!

At two in the afternoon, Oliver, Adrana, and I left home. She was going to work, he was heading home, and I wanted to get my feet into the city. The metro system in Madrid is awesome. The US needs to get on a public transportation system. Everytime I am re-exposed to one, I realize what a difference it makes. I took the metro to El Banco de Espana (the largest bank in the city). I walked the rest of the way into town. The weather is gorgeous here. I was warned to prepare for heat. Perhaps I'll see some heat in Andalucia later this week, but Madrid has been in the fifties (fahrenheit) and glorious.

My first stop today was El Museo del Prado (The Prado Museum). This collection was awesome! It took me four hours to get through the entire building with no breaks or distractions. In the basement, they have put El Tesoro del Delfin on display. I felt so small next to these hundreds-of-years old antiques. They were chipped, cracked, and had clearly aged, but that made them even more hefty. I learned so much about painting styles, time periods, and artists. The audio guides were super helpful (Mom, you should know that I listened to every single audio piece!) and I'm glad I chose to use one in Spanish instead of English. The latter would've defeated the purpose.

At about 6:30, I made my way over to the second museum that I wanted to see called El Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia. I arrived at about 6:45 and walked to the counter to purchase my 6€ ticket. The woman behind the counter told me, "Pero, mija, si esperas por quince minutos, no tendras que pagar," which means, "But, my dear, if you wait for just fifteen more minutes, you won't have to pay!" Admission is free every night after 7. How nice of her to tell me!

As I waited in the lobby reading brochures, a young man walked up to me and said, "Puedo sacar un foto?" ("May I take a picture?") I think he noticed that I was puzzled and taken aback because then he added hurriedly ".. de tus manos!" (".. of your hands!") He had noticed the leftover mehndi from when we had put it on at Sana's wedding last week. After he took a picture of the back of my hands, he asked me, "Y tu esposo? Donde esta?" ("And your husband? Where is he?") Just then, the doors to the collection opened up. I had no time to explain to him that brides aren't the only ones running around with floral patterns on the backs of their hands.

The collections at this museum were more (if not all) centered around modernism, cubism, and surrealism. I used to love Salvador Dali (and still do) so I thoroughly enjoyed the countless rooms dedicated to him. I'm not a huge Picasso fan (in my opinion, cubism over-complicates life); however, when we studied his paiting Guernica in high school, I was in awe. War is so ugly, and I felt that this picture really illustrated that. When I saw the original today, I was floored. The painting is huge! I don't understand how an artist can paint a mural the size of a house. That is so fascinating. How visionary he would have to be!

As I was wrapping up with the fourth floor of the museum, I heard someone speaking in an auditorium next door so I popped my head in. Apparently, there is an urbanization and social solutions conference in Madrid this week. I had only missed about five minutes of the opening lecture so I decided to sit in. It was entitled "El arte y el silencio en la ciudad." The speaker discussed the role of city-dwellers (which she defined as anyone who uses a sidewalk) in social mobilization and action. Her entire speech was basically echoing Zinn's "You Can't Be Neutral on a Moving Train," claiming that, if we remain silent about problems, we only empower their causes. "Just as a speaker validates the presence of language by using it, similarly a walker validates the pre-apportioned spatial arrangements determined by the government merely by walking." I have mixed feelings about her theory, but it was an interesting lecture. As some of you know, I love anything remotely related to urbanism so this was a happy coincidence.

By the time I left the museum, it was about 9 (and still very light outside! can you believe that?!). I walked out of the museum and into a huge crowd of people who were celebrating the beginning of the PhotoEspaña project, which encourages young photographers to participate in a photography competition where a different photo is showcased every few days (or maybe even everyday, I'm not exactly sure). Great showcase. Lots of street vendors. Very awesome.

I knew it would be getting dark soon so I decided to pick up a sandwich (super filling, super healthy, and only for 2€!) and head to the metro. I need to ask Adarana how to say "wheat bread" in Spanish tomorrow. I can't believe I don't know that one. I love the underground here. The advertising in Spain is beautiful, especially in the metro system. I took pictures of some of them and will eventually get around to showing them to you, insha'Allah. There was an older gentleman sitting in this particular metro station. He was playing something that sounded like Latin fusion on a saxophone - never an objection to that combination!

I got lost on my way home. Nothing in Spain (or in contiguous Europe, maybe) is parallel. The city's infrastructure is one big bowl of spaghetti. I followed my nose and, apart from the fifteen minute delay, I was home in one piece and ready to hit the sack. But, instead of showering and going to sleep, Lakhshman, Adarana, and I spent a few hours talking about karma, culture, and the meanings that have been associated with "sangre" ("blood," as in lineage) over time.

I just hopped out of the shower. Adarana is sleeping. It's 3:21 AM here. I should sleep, too. We have to be out of the house by 10. Until tomorrow, insha'Allah!