Week 32

Lost in Translation: If you live in an apartment building and aren't expecting visitors, it is always a little disconcerting to hear the sound of your doorbell.  When someone is on the street attempting to be buzzed in, a different sound chimes and the welcome buffer of an intercom keeps the unknown voice at bay until some measure of identify confirmation can be negotiated. We do have a peep hole, but it is pretty dated and is essentially a tiny door.  In my mind, opening it conveys a certain distrust of humanity that I do my best not to entertain.  At any rate, this past Monday I was faced with this very situation.  Upon hearing the doorbell I girded myself and opened the door to find a man in a smock announcing his duty as a canvasser for some well-meaning social aid organization.  Generally the conversation was cordial, and I was able to glean meaning from maybe 75% of his words.  After respectfully declining to contribute to his cause, I sent him on his way with a wish for him to have good dreams ("buenos sueños") instead of good luck ("buen suerte").  It's not the worst mix up, but potentially a little creepy if the man were to read too far into it.

Exploring the City: After a week of eating slightly more Spanish food than usual (various combinations of cheese and meat and bread), Joni and I set off on our first joint run in about a month.  We started by running through the crowded streets of Calle Atocha to get to the fabric store where Joni picked up some snap tape.  I've felt under-dressed plenty of times in my life, but this was one of the most blaringly obvious disparities.  The older women in fur coats, the smartly dressed children, and the employees at the rather large store all in uniform all drew a stark contrast to our increasingly sweaty gym attire.  It was a really beautiful day - highs have been in the mid-60s to low-70s as of late - and so after removing ourselves from the store we headed down a quaint side street en route to Retiro.  It's always nice to pass the time in this elegant place, but especially so when the trees are in full bloom and the sun is out.  Joni stopped to pose betwixt the florid boughs, still donning the attire of an aspirational high school track athlete.  The trees, to my recollection, cast no untoward glances and welcomed us to linger as long as we liked.



Memorable Meal: Our last night with our Illinois visitors brought a feast of baked potatoes and guacamole.  It's not impossible to make guac here, but the generally high price of avocados prevents us from doing so.  This meal also caused me to contemplate the infrequency with which I've made baked potatoes in my life.  It's a quite easy and cheap meal that yields fairly consistent results.  After dinner we made a return trip to one of our favorite spots, El Jardín Secreto (or as Leah called it, Teddy Bear Island) for some incredibly sweet drinks complete with dry ice and candy tapas.









Who’s Coming to Dinner: We had the pleasure of hosting María and Alex and returning the meal they prepared for us in week 30.  The menu for the night: Creamy thyme chicken with rice, fruit salad and oatmeal cookies for dessert.  Amongst many other topics of conversation was an explanation of a county fair in Ohio.  Alex (originally from Las Vegas) was quite familiar with the rural American staple, but I'm not sure if María (born and bred in Mallorca) ever really got the idea.  The closest thing to a county or state fair in Spain would likely be the various community-centered festivals, though the comparison really doesn't extend beyond the notion of people gathering together.



En la clase: This week Joni spent her time with peanut butter loving Ignacio in preparation for the Trinity exam (one of several such tests setup to measure proficiency).  One of the tasks on the exam is to talk continuously for five minutes, and Ignacio was worried that this was far too long of time to speak uninterrupted.  To be honest, I feel for him; there are many times when I'm sure it would be hard for me to carry on in English for five straight minutes.  Add in the pressures of being monitored by an examiner and change the language to Spanish, and I'm out.  As it turns out, however, Ignacio had absolutely no problem exceeding and obliterating the five minute mark.  He had chosen to discuss the movie Futbolín (Underdogs in English), and so Joni asked him to tell her about it.  The 8 year old wunderkind proceeded to hold forth for OVER AN HOUR giving what Joni would later describe as the most detailed plot synopsis she'd ever heard.  The speech made her want to see the movie but also made her feel as if she had already seen it.  Everything I learn about this kid makes me believe he is not real.  That would be an incredibly blog-worthy twist, and I'll keep you informed on any developments with imaginary students and Joni's accompanying psychosis.

Final Notes: After a gap of five days, Joni and I are excited to welcome our guests Carol and Ellen (from Joni's hometown) to Madrid.  Go-go-gadget 2017 visitor group number 2!