Saturday, March 28, 2009
new kind of flasher
so, i'm at an internet point in madrid, waiting out the rain. i don't have much to blog about, but on the way to find a computer there was a dude sitting in the middle of the computer bank looking at online porn. he wasn't (as i am) sitting quietly in the corner getting my weekly dose of www.penisland.net or www.NYCAnal.com. he was in the CENTER of the cafe at an aisle computer searching spanish porn. is this a new kind of flasher? he isn't exactly showing off his bits in public, but he definitely wasn't shy about letting everyone know what he was into. gross. i am going to stop by the farmacia to pick up some hand sanitizer after using this keyboard.
Friday, March 27, 2009
tank top
i am not sure what the word in spanish is for this particular piece of clothing, but i would have liked to recommend to one of my profesoras that she purchase a couple. on monday, she came into class sporting DDs, a white bra, and a transparent black shirt. i thought, 'oh, no, she forgot her undershirt!' but that was apparently not the case. on wednesday she came in with what looked like the same white bra, but with a transparent grey shirt draped over those DDs. it is really difficult to pay attention to pronouns and past perfect verb tenses when you are four feet away from gigantic spanish boobs attached to a wildly gesturing woman who already uses the half-shout as a teaching method.
like much of european fashion, i just don't understand it. sure, it is a step up from the XXL Hanes Beefy T's that women in the U.S. wear with their sweatpants and Nikes, but sometimes i wonder how far haute couture can go before it flames out. take the woman on the metro this morning -- her shirt was red, her trousers black. her shoes matched the shirt, a nice touch. but she also had a scarf, a necklace, a bigger necklace, a belt, a handbag, gigantic earrings, and boots with more buckles than an S&M conference. easy on the accessories, please.
like much of european fashion, i just don't understand it. sure, it is a step up from the XXL Hanes Beefy T's that women in the U.S. wear with their sweatpants and Nikes, but sometimes i wonder how far haute couture can go before it flames out. take the woman on the metro this morning -- her shirt was red, her trousers black. her shoes matched the shirt, a nice touch. but she also had a scarf, a necklace, a bigger necklace, a belt, a handbag, gigantic earrings, and boots with more buckles than an S&M conference. easy on the accessories, please.
Monday, March 23, 2009
death in the afternoon
after being given a copy of Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises from my amigo Sam many years ago, i became curious about the spanish tradition of bullfighting. in the newspapers, it is reported in the arts section, not sports section, alongside gallery openings, symphony schedules, and book reviews. it is quite controversial in spain as it is elsewhere as animal-rights activists protest its apparent cruelty to torros, but it still has a strong following. after having the opportunity to see the infamous spectacle yesterday at Madrid's Plaza de Torros, i can sort of see why.
i can't do it justice describing it here, but it is truly mesmerizing. at first fast as they frustrate the bull with a game of hide and seek. then he gets to attack a horse, but is speared. the third stage, the acrobatic banderilleos skewer him a couple of times to drain his energy through blood loss. but then the finale.
the bull's 10 minutes with the matador isn't a fight. it is more of a hypnosis, a ritual, a deadly, dangerous dance this matador does with a 1500 lb. angry bull. the matador is graceful and sexy in his suit of lights. he is masculine, but delicate. strong, but agile. the bull is powerful, but quick. angry, but entranced. it is very passionate, this tradition, and you can feel the danger and adrenaline.
is it cruel? well, yes, but isn't life?
i can't do it justice describing it here, but it is truly mesmerizing. at first fast as they frustrate the bull with a game of hide and seek. then he gets to attack a horse, but is speared. the third stage, the acrobatic banderilleos skewer him a couple of times to drain his energy through blood loss. but then the finale.
the bull's 10 minutes with the matador isn't a fight. it is more of a hypnosis, a ritual, a deadly, dangerous dance this matador does with a 1500 lb. angry bull. the matador is graceful and sexy in his suit of lights. he is masculine, but delicate. strong, but agile. the bull is powerful, but quick. angry, but entranced. it is very passionate, this tradition, and you can feel the danger and adrenaline.
is it cruel? well, yes, but isn't life?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
game over?
remember when you were a kid and you and your brother spent an hour talking in pig latin just to annoy the crap out of your parents? it was such a fun game and whoever messed up first was a big gigantic loser. yesterday we took a lovely excursion to Alcala, a suburb of spain. everyone in our group was fluent in english, but the good students that we were, we spoke solely in spanish to each other the entire day. i am sure every spaniard within earshot cringed upon overhearing our broken sentences and mispronunciations, but we were totally rocking at the language game.
when i got home after a full day of chatting, i went home and pilar asked me some random question. i immediately answered in english. she was so confused and looked at me like i was crazy. oops. game over. i lose.
i totally started cracking up and apologizing. it´s hard to remember that this isn´t a game for everyone.
when i got home after a full day of chatting, i went home and pilar asked me some random question. i immediately answered in english. she was so confused and looked at me like i was crazy. oops. game over. i lose.
i totally started cracking up and apologizing. it´s hard to remember that this isn´t a game for everyone.
school
i don´t know how immigrants do it - pack up their bags and head to a foreign country without having the resources to take classes in the new language. knowing how i feel now, i must admire their courage. i have been here for a week, living with Pilar who is kind enough to chat with me in basic Spanish, taking six hours of language each day, followed by an hour of studying in the evening whilst watching Spanish TV. basically, the entire two weeks i´m in Madrid i´m focused on studying. i´m making a teeensy bit of progress. i still can´t understand conversations in the street, but i had a nice chat with Pilar about laundry and cooking.
i have no idea how anyone would approach this without having time or money to study. i´m constantly overwhelmed, and almost had a breakdown on thursday just because i hadn´t spoken or heard english for 36 hours. it is isolating and overwhelming. but fantastic at the same time.
my school =elemadrid= is reputed to be one of the best in spain. right now i only have one other person in my class, maddalena, from italy, so it is very nearly one-on-one instruction. the other day our profesora was chatting about something and a word came up that neither maddalena or i knew. maddalena whipped out her dictionary and said "ah, si, si!" she leaned over to show me the entry, and i glanced at the definition. in italian. the spagnolo a italiano dictionary isn´t that much help to me.
on wednesday i found out that i am not the very worst spanish speaker in the country during our group lunch with 11 students and two teachers. Judy from Colorado speaks spanish like Napoleon Dynamite´s grandma and Sarah from Australia put a hilarious spin on the spanish accent. it´s nice not not to completely suck, but my tongue is tied in knots every time i try to conjure up a complete sentence. nearly every madrileño thinks i have learning disabilities and just talks to me in really slow english or loud spanish.
speaking of english, being in spain is a constant reminder of how monolingual the united states really is. did you know that the U.S. has 55 million spanish-speakers, the second highest number in the world after mexico? we have 20 million more spanish-speakers than spain, and i only know three or four non-latino people who are fluent in spanish. i know that it is mostly a product of our size and the relative socioeconomic relationship between us and our southern neighbors, but i still find it interesting. most of my classmates are already at least bi-lingual (spanish being their third, fourth, or even fifth lanugage). Suzanna, from germany, is fluent in german, english, and french. She is nearly fluent in spanish and italian, and she can "get by" in Japanese and Flemish. Maddalena speaks italian, german, and english. i am painfully jealous.
every day when i am told or overhear something and my brain approaches internal combustion temperatures as i work to decode, i feel a huge sense of victory if i can understand just one word. it is like a glimpse of a world that i am not yet invited into. i am here feeling somewhat isolated and awed by the language skills of my european classmates, but suddenly something will make sense. something with go from jumble to understanding, and i feel door between me and that other world open just a little bit wider.
i have no idea how anyone would approach this without having time or money to study. i´m constantly overwhelmed, and almost had a breakdown on thursday just because i hadn´t spoken or heard english for 36 hours. it is isolating and overwhelming. but fantastic at the same time.
my school =elemadrid= is reputed to be one of the best in spain. right now i only have one other person in my class, maddalena, from italy, so it is very nearly one-on-one instruction. the other day our profesora was chatting about something and a word came up that neither maddalena or i knew. maddalena whipped out her dictionary and said "ah, si, si!" she leaned over to show me the entry, and i glanced at the definition. in italian. the spagnolo a italiano dictionary isn´t that much help to me.
on wednesday i found out that i am not the very worst spanish speaker in the country during our group lunch with 11 students and two teachers. Judy from Colorado speaks spanish like Napoleon Dynamite´s grandma and Sarah from Australia put a hilarious spin on the spanish accent. it´s nice not not to completely suck, but my tongue is tied in knots every time i try to conjure up a complete sentence. nearly every madrileño thinks i have learning disabilities and just talks to me in really slow english or loud spanish.
speaking of english, being in spain is a constant reminder of how monolingual the united states really is. did you know that the U.S. has 55 million spanish-speakers, the second highest number in the world after mexico? we have 20 million more spanish-speakers than spain, and i only know three or four non-latino people who are fluent in spanish. i know that it is mostly a product of our size and the relative socioeconomic relationship between us and our southern neighbors, but i still find it interesting. most of my classmates are already at least bi-lingual (spanish being their third, fourth, or even fifth lanugage). Suzanna, from germany, is fluent in german, english, and french. She is nearly fluent in spanish and italian, and she can "get by" in Japanese and Flemish. Maddalena speaks italian, german, and english. i am painfully jealous.
every day when i am told or overhear something and my brain approaches internal combustion temperatures as i work to decode, i feel a huge sense of victory if i can understand just one word. it is like a glimpse of a world that i am not yet invited into. i am here feeling somewhat isolated and awed by the language skills of my european classmates, but suddenly something will make sense. something with go from jumble to understanding, and i feel door between me and that other world open just a little bit wider.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Biblioteca
Another day, another free wi-fi connection at the biblioteca nacional de espana. I know folks are walking around wired every day, everywhere with their iPhones, but I'm still charmed with the magic of my little ipod touch. Anyhoo, not much time this sunny morning for hunt-and-peck blogging. Headed out on an excursion to la casa de Cervantes with the entire tour being conducted in Spanish. I might learn where Cervantes' bathroom was (donde esta el bano being one of the few things I know) but I doubt I'll return with much info regarding Spanish literature. Que lastima!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
nesicito mas tiempo
even after three years of español con señora arkins in escuela secondaria, y un otra mas año en el universidad, i still have no idea how to speak much spanish. so, what better way to learn then to spend three weeks in madrid, spain, right? well, after having been here for 48 hours, i´ve realized that it isn´t nearly enough to even begin to learn spanish. i need more time. like years!
my spanish madre, Pilar, no habla engles NADA. yes, that is correct. Pilar, a very lovely 55-year-old woman who is nice enough to host foreign students, speaks no English. which is totally cool, since i shouldn´t expect people to speak english, but it didn´t make our conversations easy! i showed up Sunday and spent the afternoon watching a random spanish-dubbed Lifetime movie about Linlin, the single Chinese mom, and her American lover. corporate espionage and leukemia aren´t things they teach on my Rosetta Stone, but i kept up.
after our pelicula, pilar and i went for a walk around the barrio. madrid, at least what i´ve seen, is a really great city! we had a cup of hot chocolate (think a melted hershey bar, not that watered down shit they serve at starbucks) with parras (think churros, but more fat). then, in true Spanish madre style, we went to la iglesia catolico. i hadn´t been in country for 12 hours and already someone´s mom was dragging me to church. i think the language barrier helps. maybe if mine and dan´s mom didn´t speak english, they could trick us in to church more often?
anyhoo, that was day 1 in country. ayer (yesterday) i had a full day of classes (more on that later), and came home to find Pilar´s sister and brother-in-law (my spanish aunt and uncle, ¿i guess?) at the house for an after-dinner visit. being the silly american girl whose name translates into ¨the tree called holly¨-- i was quite a hit. they ask ¨¿tu nombre es un arbol? curiosa.¨the brother in law, my spanish tio (uncle) loves airplanes, so we could chat about that. he also loves ¨say, ennay, ennay¨and ¨say, essay, EEee - Nueva York.¨(That´s CNN and CSI -New York, that took me a few minutes to figure out.)
In all, Pilar and her family have been fantastic hosts. I love that they don´t speak english -- it keeps me guessing and helps me practice my confused look.
my spanish madre, Pilar, no habla engles NADA. yes, that is correct. Pilar, a very lovely 55-year-old woman who is nice enough to host foreign students, speaks no English. which is totally cool, since i shouldn´t expect people to speak english, but it didn´t make our conversations easy! i showed up Sunday and spent the afternoon watching a random spanish-dubbed Lifetime movie about Linlin, the single Chinese mom, and her American lover. corporate espionage and leukemia aren´t things they teach on my Rosetta Stone, but i kept up.
after our pelicula, pilar and i went for a walk around the barrio. madrid, at least what i´ve seen, is a really great city! we had a cup of hot chocolate (think a melted hershey bar, not that watered down shit they serve at starbucks) with parras (think churros, but more fat). then, in true Spanish madre style, we went to la iglesia catolico. i hadn´t been in country for 12 hours and already someone´s mom was dragging me to church. i think the language barrier helps. maybe if mine and dan´s mom didn´t speak english, they could trick us in to church more often?
anyhoo, that was day 1 in country. ayer (yesterday) i had a full day of classes (more on that later), and came home to find Pilar´s sister and brother-in-law (my spanish aunt and uncle, ¿i guess?) at the house for an after-dinner visit. being the silly american girl whose name translates into ¨the tree called holly¨-- i was quite a hit. they ask ¨¿tu nombre es un arbol? curiosa.¨the brother in law, my spanish tio (uncle) loves airplanes, so we could chat about that. he also loves ¨say, ennay, ennay¨and ¨say, essay, EEee - Nueva York.¨(That´s CNN and CSI -New York, that took me a few minutes to figure out.)
In all, Pilar and her family have been fantastic hosts. I love that they don´t speak english -- it keeps me guessing and helps me practice my confused look.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
fake scandinavia
i found a ticket to copenhagen for $50, and couldn't pass it up. when i told my friends about my plans for a two-night trip to the danish capital, one of them said, "that's not even real scandinavia, it's part of europe." well, while that guy was sitting around on his couch watching reruns of scrubs, i scored my next passport stamp, enjoying a lovely solo weekend in denmark.
i did the usual touristy stuff -- museums, old buildings, famous art, shopping, and eating local foods whilst enjoying local beer. the architecture is lovely. the living-Ikea sense of style is refreshing. the city is safe, welcoming (everyone speaks english!), and boasts the longest
pedestrian shopping area in europe (there are three H&M shops in the town center alone). and i even like Carlsberg. nothing really remarkable happened, which was nice. and like my solo jaunt to london, i really enjoyed the freedom of being able to do whatever i wanted, wherever i wanted, and for however long i wanted.
i got to read my first non-school book since january, taking time to sit in a cafe, read, and watch people stroll by. i had a nice chat with gus, from sweden, over a danish microbrew. and i spent one evening listening to live jazz with the 50+ crowd of copenhagen. one guy thought i was so "young and cute, like his granddaughter" that he bought me a drink. what could be a safer than an evening hanging out in a bar where everyone orders metamucil with their entree?
i think travelling alone or having dinner alone or even going to the cinema alone takes a certain amount of confidence in your ability to enjoy your own company. do you like yourself enough to spend a whole weekend on the road with you? do you know what interests you? are you good company? will you annoy yourself? do you talk too much? well, i hope not that last one, or you might scare the locals. anyway, i can safely say that i would rank "myself" among the top ten people that i prefer to travel with.
i won't publish the entire top 25 list here, because i don't want to hurt the feelings of people that fall in the category of "i would rather be alone than with you on vacation." sorry, _____. maybe next time you'll let me pick the restaurant. if there is a next time.
i did the usual touristy stuff -- museums, old buildings, famous art, shopping, and eating local foods whilst enjoying local beer. the architecture is lovely. the living-Ikea sense of style is refreshing. the city is safe, welcoming (everyone speaks english!), and boasts the longest
pedestrian shopping area in europe (there are three H&M shops in the town center alone). and i even like Carlsberg. nothing really remarkable happened, which was nice. and like my solo jaunt to london, i really enjoyed the freedom of being able to do whatever i wanted, wherever i wanted, and for however long i wanted.i got to read my first non-school book since january, taking time to sit in a cafe, read, and watch people stroll by. i had a nice chat with gus, from sweden, over a danish microbrew. and i spent one evening listening to live jazz with the 50+ crowd of copenhagen. one guy thought i was so "young and cute, like his granddaughter" that he bought me a drink. what could be a safer than an evening hanging out in a bar where everyone orders metamucil with their entree?
i think travelling alone or having dinner alone or even going to the cinema alone takes a certain amount of confidence in your ability to enjoy your own company. do you like yourself enough to spend a whole weekend on the road with you? do you know what interests you? are you good company? will you annoy yourself? do you talk too much? well, i hope not that last one, or you might scare the locals. anyway, i can safely say that i would rank "myself" among the top ten people that i prefer to travel with.
i won't publish the entire top 25 list here, because i don't want to hurt the feelings of people that fall in the category of "i would rather be alone than with you on vacation." sorry, _____. maybe next time you'll let me pick the restaurant. if there is a next time.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
technology
So, I'm blogging from my iPod touch using the wi-fi in the Copenhagen bibliotek. I'm feeling pretty advanced right now. Too bad the only place to sit is in a chair in front of the toilet. Now I know how to say "are you in line?" in Danish.
I'd write more, but I have little patience for this teeny keyboard. Off to dinner!
I'd write more, but I have little patience for this teeny keyboard. Off to dinner!
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