10-1-08

Thing are settling slightly. Oh, so very slightly. As in the city isn’t as overwhelming. But not in a bad way. It gives me more time to reflect upon the actual beauty of it, in place of a feeling of pure overwhemltion. But, by god, this city truly is beautiful.

I live in the burbs. The burbs of Madrid, as I imagine any major city, are quite crowded. I imagine sooner or later I’ll begin to miss grass. Ha. Maybe I already do. The streets of my neighborhood, La Concepcion, are lined with apartment buildings. They stretch as far as one can see. It took twenty minutes of wandering last night to finally reach some sort of non-apt based area. Which is exactly what I had anticipated when moving to Madrid. So there are no let downs. What I wasn’t expecting was the lack of stores. Well, the lack of walmart, Albertson, winco, style store. I didn’t expect those exact chains to be here, but I had assumed Spanish style stores would. Nope. Negativatory. Most of the apartments begin on floor (what we’d call in the states) two. Though, they stil call it floor one. The bottom floors are shops. There’s a butcher. A pharmacy. A café (well, tons of cafes, they are everywhere!). A tailor. A tobacco store. A fruit stand. An electronics store. A bakery. Etc. Each one is owned by an individual and gives that person and their family their livelihood. I think it’s awesome. It makes for a cool community and gives plenty for the eyes to look at when passing on the streets.

The cafés here are awesome. There is at least one between every street. I’d say block, but the streets are so chaotic that blocks don’t really exist. You can eat for so incredibly cheap. Two euros will get you a good sized snack (tapas are everywhere) a cup of café con leche (which is the most phenomenal coffee on the earth. But I’ll have to make a separate paragraph for the grandeur of café con leche), and a beer. All for two freaking euros. If you are slightly more hungry, three and a half euros will fill you to the brim. And the food is excellent. I ordered paella, Spanish rice and sea food, and the dude behind the counter pulled fresh shrimp, muscles, and some sort of fish off of the ice in front of me, and sautéed it with the rice. All food here seems to be fresh. I haven’t seen any frozen food yet. Lots of cafés have cured ham hanging from the ceiling. Oh, ham is huge in Madrid.

My host family is very nice. I live with a 60 year old woman name Merche, her adopted daughter Ana (15), and one other American student named Isaac from Iowa. I am not excited about living with him. He’s 20, a douche, and talks about “getting bitches” a lot. He’s a know it all who never shuts up, and is constantly coming into my room while I’m trying to read. A cardinal sin in my book. However, he is fluent in Spanish. So I’m nice to him. Haha. He’s saved my ass a few times already. And living with Merche, who speaks no English, would be really difficult otherwise. I painted him in a pretty harsh light. He’s twenty and immature. And under no other circumstances would I choose to hang out with him. But, Merche. Very nice woman. She smiles a lot. Talks to me anyway, and I talk back in English. And we don’t understand each other. It’s fun. She has a dog who apparently will hates us for the first two weeks. A little tiny mutt. Jalie.

Our apartment it self is a big piece of crap. It’s tiny and old. Many thing are broke and even more things need fixing (how’s that possible?). I sleep in a room decorated for a little girl too. Pink walls. Posters of Disney and baby puppies. So I’m glad I didn’t pack my poster with kittens hanging from a close line with the caption that read, “hang in there,” Merche knew I was coming. I have no idea how old this place actually is. Not super old like 1750’s but I’m guessing early twentieth century. Oh, and I saw a for sale sign for one of the apartments on the street…240.000, 00 Euros!!!!!!!! They are so expensive. It’s freaking unbelievable. And we are twenty minutes from city center.

K, café con leche. Aw come aw wry! It is so good. They brew the grounds really strong. With a fraction of the water we use in the states. I’m not sure if the beans themselves are different, I’m guessing they have to be, because they are slightly sweeter, a whole lot less bitter, and have well, fuller, but not bold taste…not sure how to explain it. At cafes, they serve it in an 8 oz glass that looks like it is made for milk. Not a coffee mug at all. It’s about 1/3 café and 2/3 leche, and then you add pure sugar grains for the most delicious breakfast drink on earth. Or afternoon pick me up. Or late night snack.

I haven’t really met any Spaniards yet. School starts Monday and every day I’ve been here there has been some sort of USAC affiliated orientation. So I’ve been hanging out with the other USAC students a lot….which I just love…tons of twenty year olds…nuff said. A few asked about my tattoo and their eyes immediately glazed over the second I they heard the words, “moby-dick.” Ha. Oh well.

K, loosing momentum. Covered quite a bit. Though not everything. Not nearly everything.

Oh! One last thing. The roads here are lawless. Two lane roads often fit three cars abreast. Drivers will drive in the oncoming car’s lane and onto sidewalks to get around obstacles, such as people or a car parked in the middle of the road. It’s scary. I never want to drive here!

Huzza!
jake.