Day Three: Madrid

I didn't know it was possible for each day to be better than the last. I slept like a baby last night. Adarana is so thoughtful. If only all the people in the world were like her. She asked me if I felt cold during the night. I replied with, "A little." She ordered a thicker blanket from Lakshman and, under it, I think I could have slept through a war.

Today, I decided to see the city on foot. I am glad I got the more "time consuming" highlights of Madrid out of the way before my last day here. Last night, before bed, I put together a list / road map of how I wanted to see the city. I took the metro to Gran Via, one of the most commercial, tourist-oriented "calles" (streets) in Madrid. It was fun to walk and reminded me of Broadway in New York. Festive, full of city-friendly stores, nooks, and crannies. I passed by El Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales, the palace where Carlos I and Isabel of Portugal lived. When she became a widow, Isabel turned the palace into a monastery. Very pleasing to the eye.

Making a left at La Cuesta de San Vincente, I reached La Plaza de España. Here, there is a fountain dedicated to Miguel de Cervantes, the man who wrote Don Quijote de la Mancha. The fountain is a sculpture of Don Quijote atop a horse - how fitting - next to Sancho Panza (his sidekick; basically Don Quijote is a more delusional version of Batman and Sancho Panza is a fat version of Robin Hood). It's a really pretty plaza, with plenty of foliage and room to sit, breathe, people-watch, and read.

Making a left on Calle Ballen, I came upon Los Jardines de Sabitini. These gardens are directly next to El Placio Royal and are absolutely gorgeous. I mean, wow. It was raining like no other so I did not travel too far into the labyrinth of greenery, but, on any other day, I would have loved to. As I exited the gardens and made my way to the entrance of El Palacio Royal, the new horses that the police / guards were to mount were being brought in to relieve the ones who had been working the early morning shift. I noticed that one of the horses had a number engraved on his hide and proceeded to ask the guard who had mounted him. He told me that all horses who had served in the military had been branded this way. I felt abnormally sad about this fact, and I think he noticed because he quickly added that the topic was under debate in the long-winded process of governmental decision-making. I will be looking into this once I am home, insha'Allah.

I passed La Plaza de Oriente, which is directly opposite El Palacio Royal and matches the grandeur that the palace and neighboring Jardines de Sabitini evoke. Directly on the other side of the palace is La Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Almudena. I went inside, and I happened upon a wedding service that was being held that afternoon followed by a Saturday evening mass service. What are the odds?! I'm telling you, so far, karma is on my side for this trip. I have just "bumped" into the coolest things!

The service was moving. One of the females who was reciting hymns had such a melancholic, moving tone to her voice. She was singing in Latin (so I had little idea of what she was saying), but I felt a little frog hopping around in my throat. They were calling the Virgin Mary all kinds of names like "Madre de la Misericordia" (Mother of Mercy) and "Reina de la Paz" (Queen of Peace), praying for different things like "dale paz a los pueblos separados por error ... para que los pueblos que confien en dios aumenten y perseguian la verdad" (give peace to the people separated by error ... so that the people who trust in god increase in number and pursue truth). The priest, in his asking-for-forgiveness piece said, "experimentamos con el poder de tu redempcion" (we test your patience / experiment with the power of your redemption / mercy) as well as "eres mi refugio, me llevaste el peligro, perdoname mi dios - mi culpa y mi pecado" (you are my refuge, you protect me from danger, forgive me my lord - my faults and my sins).

It was really interesting. I found everyone in the church to be quite loving, accepting, and just outright nice. Also, after spending two and a half hours in the church, I came to understand that, to this particular population, Christ is what the 99 names of Allah (SWT) are for Muslims (Shi'as?). He embodies all the values that a human should want to embody. He is perfection. To me, that is what the 99 names signify. Once we internalize them all, we will also be much closer to perfection. It was a cool connection that I felt.

I left the cathedral, and it was pouring again. I'm so glad I didn't have an umbrella. They are so overrated (Mum, you and I will never agree on this so don't even try!). I made a left on La Calle Mayor and entered La Plaza Mayor. This, apparently, is every tourist's homebase. It's also every thief's dream, from what I hear. I didn't see anything too special about it, but I took the typical touristy photographs and kept moving. When I arrived at La Plaza de Cibeles, karma kicked in again. What should I run into but a protest for Gaza! I was told that it was starting at La Puerta de Alcala, which was my next stop, so, of course, I put the rest of my evening on hold and joined in immediately. I've got most of it on video or in photographs.

Wow. What a protest. I've never seen anything like it in my life. At least a thousand people. There was a row of nine "coffins" in front, held by different members of different organizations all adorned in keffiyehs and wearing articles of clothing with Palestinian colors. Everyone was given a sticker that said, "Yo tambien soy Palestin@" (I, also, am a Palestinian) enscribed upon an illustration of a Palestinian flag. The slogans were sick, and we marched for over two hours back to La Plaza de Cibeles. They were saying things like, "Que viva! La lucha! Del pueblo Palestino!" (Long live the fight of the Palestinian people!) and "Pa-les-ti-na Ven-ce-ra!" (Palestine will win). My favorite was "Bush! Obama! Basura Americana!" (Bush! Obama! American garbage!). These sound so much better in Spanish. There's like a kick you get out of yelling them that just doesn't work in English. They did the typical "Bir ruh! Bid dam! Nafdika, ya Ghazzaa!" that the Arabs (and I) love. There was one that was sung kind of to the tune of the Farmer in the Dell which went "Ya queremos ver, ya queremos ver, que zapatero cierre la embajada de Israel!" (Now, we want to see. Now, we want to see. Which leader will stop the embargo of Israel?!), basically encouraging a boycot of all products supporting Israel. There were a whole bunch, but I will refrain. I know it gets old if you weren't there.

When we reached La Plaza de Cibeles, five people spoke about Gaza. Super eloquent. It wasn't a long ceremony, and the sound system was sick (this is a positive adjective). Everything was so well-organized; I was thoroughly impressed. One of the endearing moments was when the head organizer said, "Quiero agredecerles por estar aqui a pesar de la lluvia .. y el futbol" (I want to thank you all for being here despite the rain .. and the World Cup). Everyone laughed. Then, every member of the flotilla who was murdered was honored. The organizers alternated reciting their names and then saying a few words about each of them. We all bowed our heads, and, after each description, yelled, "Viva!" There was such a passion running through us, a synchronized electricity.

I've been thinking about this stuff for a while now. What the hell is wrong with us young Americans? We protested the war for like six months, got bored, and now have totally forgotten about it. I wish this was a more discussed topic on campus. Hmmm. I'll move on. This is getting way too long (again).

Afterwards, I gave my email address to the lead female. She was Syrian and we chatted for about a half hour in Spanish before I realized I still had things to see and headed back to La Puerta de Alcala. It reminded me a lot of the Arc de Triomphe, in terms of how overbearing it is (very 'solid' piece of architecture). Directly behind the archway is El Parque de Retiro. There was an elderly gentleman at the entrance who asked me if he knew what the first fountain signified. I said no and he proceeded to tell me the stories of Gallegan mythology that went with all the million fountains in Madrid. It was entertaining and I have it all written down, but won't bother writing that discertation here. There was a book fair in the park, despite the darkness setting in and the heavy rain. There were also vendors selling snacks and trinkets. I love the atmosphere in this city.

Once we had walked the entire length of the park and he had completed his history lesson, I headed to the metro as it was after 9 and I didn't want Adarana to worry. I grabbed my first fast food meal in weeks and hopped onto an overcrowded metro. When I arrived at her apartment, I could hear Lakshman, Oliver, and Adarana. I felt like I was home. I love it here. It's like Toronto with more electricity and zest and New York with more passion, energy, cleanliness (ha!), and a solid collective conscience. I wish laws in all countries were the same so I could get my JD in España but still practice wherever I wanted to. Sad story. Or maybe not? We'll see.

PS. McDonald's here is a legit restaurant. With fancy tables. Some of them even have waiters and waitress! Whaaaaat?! I know. Nuts.

PPS. Adarana was glad I like Madrid. She told me that most Madrileños can only see problems with the city. Oliver responded with, "It's an amor-odio relationship, como yin-yang" (amor-odio = love-hate). Sometimes, those are the strongest. He is so funny. I described the protest as "bien hecho" ("well done" but in colloquial language here it means something more like "well played") so he responded with "y quienes estaban jugando?" (and who was playing?). A riot, that one. I will miss them. And I will definitely miss Lakshman and his effervescent spirituality. They have been really good to me. I hope karma has plenty of awesome things in store for them.

Tomorrow, I plan to leave for Sevilla. We shall see how that goes. I will probably have less access to internet there, but I don't think any of you mind a break from these irritatingly long essays. Baha! Okay. It's 4:20 AM sooooo 'night for now!