!Olé!

I went to a bullfight, corrida de toros "running of bulls". It was a smaller version than the famous Plaza de Toros in the center of Madrid. It had younger smaller bulls. Almost all towns in Spain have an arena for bullfighting. I went with Leticia and her father to the arena in a suburb where her parents live. In some ways the sport is very disturbing but it is easy to see why so many consider it an art form because the "toreadors" move with a very unique style and posture and it is amazing to see how they can manipulate the direction of the charging bull. It is overly cruel though because the toreadors stab the bull to aggravate it and make it more aggressive. It is also very dangerous for the bullfighters because even a small mistake can leave them to be trampled or gored. There was a woman next to us who would turn around every time a bullfighter fell to the ground and would shake her handkerchief and say "His poor sisters! His poor mother! His poor wife!" At the end if the fight some horses would carry the body of the dead bull out of the arena and the crowd would cheer for the toreador. They would shake handkerchiefs in the air and scream !Óle! if the thought he did a good job. If the  president of the bullfight agreed the toreador would get to keep an ear of the slaughtered bull, two if he did really well, and the tail too if he really hit it out of the park. Bovine appendages are not my idea of good prizes.

"Homesickness is... absolutely nothing. Fifty percent of the people in the world are homesick all the time... You don't really long for another country. You long for something in yourself that you don't have, or haven't been able to find."

-John Cheever

Last Weekend

Last weekend I spent on the East coast with the Sobrino-Morito family, including Leticia's brother, Louis and his wife Sylvia (who also happens to be the most adorable pregnant lady I have ever seen). Doing anything in a timely manor is a struggle. We would leave for dinner each night at 10pm. I knew to expect the laid back, late night culture but I don't think it would kill anyone to go about things with just a sliver of efficiency. Mostly I feel bad for Alex, they keep him up very late and do not have him nap the poor kid. We drove back last night and arrived home around quarter to two. Alex was very tired and every time he woke up in the car he cried. I don't blame him either, I sort of felt like crying too. I am thinking about using this as a bonding point for us. You know the way siblings do? "Remember when they drove us home in the middle of the night in terrible traffic after feeding us coke and potato chips for dinner? -Yeah, mom and dad really suck."

We were staying at a resort near Benidorm. I can't be sure but I imagine it is what Reno would look like if it had a beach and a lot of German tourists. The hotel was lovely though, it was a little more removed. We were also there to visit Gustavo's parents. The night we went out to dinner with them his mother held my hand the whole night and tried to convince me that I needed to go dancing with her, she was sure I would really like to go to a country music club as well. I politely declined. Maybe this is just me but I feel like I get touched more in Spain. In the United States people just say your name to get your attention here I get guided everywhere by my wrist. Maybe they are just worried I will wonder off or something.

Ale-ale-jandro

Alex is a typical Spanish child in that he is immaculately dressed and is very photogenic. Additionally, I am pretty sure he has a severe case of only child syndrome and is a world class sulker. He has been very shy with me thus far but every once and a while he requests that everyone at the table speaks English because Kate does not understand Spanish. I am very touched by his concern for my understanding of dinner conversation and he is right, I typically have no idea what is going on. I can only understand Spanish when it is spoken in slow motion and over enunciated. He really is a sweet boy, so long as he is not singing the sponge bob square pants theme song in high pitched Spanish, which I have lost tolerance for.

Cumpleaños Feliz a Keit

 

For Kate this year I have learned to write with love from the children

For my birthday my family held a dinner at their friend's house. Three couples in their thirties, their children and me. A very unusual birthday, I spent all night speaking broken Spanish with amazingly kind strangers. Everyone had a very good sense of humor, after reading what Ana (at age 5) had written in one of my gifts, the parents all exclaimed "Wow! she must go to a very expensive school".. a running joke amongst the parents every time one of their children does something clever. Also our hostess Maria, was sure to reach into the elevator and press the button for every floor before the doors shut and she waved laughing thanking us for coming. 

Thank you so much to everyone for their birthday wishes. Goodnight.

Real Jardín Botánico

The Royal Botanical Gardens of Madrid was founded in 1755 by King Ferdinand VI. Today the collection includes more than 30,000 plant species. I saw my first pomegranate tree, its Spanish name granado was named for the Granada region in Southern Spain where it commonly grows. In August my family is taking me there to their summer home and hopefully I will get to see another one. The most exciting part about el jardín was the class of five year olds on a field trip. I have a whole collection of sneaky pictures that I gathered by utilizing the 16x zoom feature on my camera. How do you say nuggets in Spanish?!

Jamón

Jamón is the dry cured ham of Spain. It is everywhere. It comes strait off of whole pig legs that hang in store windows or in kitchens. My family keeps their jamón pig leg in the breakfast nook next to the phone. I have been here only 3 days and I am already approaching the limit to my jamón tolerance. Here they make jamón y queso sandwiches, a small baguette cut in half with one piece of ham and one slice of cheese. There is about a 4:1 bread/meat + cheese ratio. And there are no condiments. I would love to find a place that sold a sandwich with more than a quarter inch of meat on it or maybe mayonnaise? Leticia has been very sweet to me and took me grocery shopping so I could buy foods that would  make me feel at home. Successfully finding peanut butter in the supermarket was a small victory for us, it is very uncommon here; Alejandro has never tried it before.Though Spain lacks the appreciation for peanut butter, I do give them credit for coming up with the idea for "jamón" flavored ruffles.