Adjustment
Evidently I have been feeling adjusted to Madrid for a while now. I was talking to a friend who is fairly new here the other day, and I made the offhand comment that one good thing about the cold weather is that there is much less body odor on the metro. Her laugh confused me at first, and then I realized she thought I had made a joke. Maybe she hasn't ridden the metro in July or August.
Thursdays are my day off, so today, my friend Brianna and I walked around Madrid with her mom and grandmother who are visiting from the states. Starting at the big statue of a bear in Sol, we walked to the Plaza Mayor, where Brianna and I both commented that we loved the accordion music there. When we thought about why, we realized it was because it made us feel like we're in a square full of people and outdoor cafe's, where all the buildings are a few hundred years old and time seems to stand still. Then we realized maybe it wasn't just the accordions that made us feel that way--maybe it was that we were standing in the middle of a square full of people and outdoor cafe's, where all the buildings are a few hundred years old and time seems to stand still! Then, we went on down Calle Mayor until we reached the Catedral de la Almudena and the Palacio Real. While they looked inside the cathedral, I waited outside in the courtyard between the cathedral and the palace. I was still working on my chupa chup (the best lollipops in the world) and I didn't want to be irreverent (or get dirty looks) by taking candy inside.
The weather today was cold and windy, and as I waited for them to come back out, oohing and aahing, I looked for the sunniest spot I could find on the square and thought about what a nice day it was. Sound carries so well in that square, bouncing off the two huge and beautiful buildings, and I could hear the saxophone player as if he were right next to me, even though he was probably a couple hundred meters away, on the other side of the street from the square. I thought he was pretty good and I would make sure to give him some change, and then realized I had spent all my money on my chupa chup, and now I didn't even have that left. I tried to figure out what language the tourists behind me were speaking, and eventually narrowed it down to Russian--not because I know one word of Russian, but because it sounded kind of like the accents of the Russians in Air Force One. (I, evidently, have become a master linguist.) I looked over the hills and commented to myself (I hope not out loud) that it was a nice clear day--I couldn't see a brown line between the city and the sky.
It amazes me that I can remember my thoughts from today, a normal day, and I can't think of one that would have come into my mind a year ago. But somehow they all pass through my brain without any event or celebration--it's just normal life.
The human brain amazes me. As much as you can have culture shock, homesickness, complaining, and cravings for foods and facial products you can't get here, you still adjust. I found out pretty quickly that I can't force myself to adjust--that I can't make myself feel at home here before I'm ready to feel at home here. And then one day, standing in between a cathedral and a palace, listening to a street musician, trying to decipher a foreign language, commenting on pollution, and all the time sucking on a chupa chup, I realize that it has happened. My life is normal here. I didn't tell myself to think normal thoughts or to have normal days, it just happened.
Some days I still wake up and it takes me a few minutes to remember I'm in Spain. But then I get up, make my coffee, shower, and go on with life. It doesn't stop or wait for me to orient myself. And somehow, little by little, I adjust--I guess adjusting is just another normal part of life.
As for the metro in July and August--there are some things which I believe have no chance of adjustment. And anyway, do I really want to get used to body odor on public transportation?????
Thursdays are my day off, so today, my friend Brianna and I walked around Madrid with her mom and grandmother who are visiting from the states. Starting at the big statue of a bear in Sol, we walked to the Plaza Mayor, where Brianna and I both commented that we loved the accordion music there. When we thought about why, we realized it was because it made us feel like we're in a square full of people and outdoor cafe's, where all the buildings are a few hundred years old and time seems to stand still. Then we realized maybe it wasn't just the accordions that made us feel that way--maybe it was that we were standing in the middle of a square full of people and outdoor cafe's, where all the buildings are a few hundred years old and time seems to stand still! Then, we went on down Calle Mayor until we reached the Catedral de la Almudena and the Palacio Real. While they looked inside the cathedral, I waited outside in the courtyard between the cathedral and the palace. I was still working on my chupa chup (the best lollipops in the world) and I didn't want to be irreverent (or get dirty looks) by taking candy inside.
The weather today was cold and windy, and as I waited for them to come back out, oohing and aahing, I looked for the sunniest spot I could find on the square and thought about what a nice day it was. Sound carries so well in that square, bouncing off the two huge and beautiful buildings, and I could hear the saxophone player as if he were right next to me, even though he was probably a couple hundred meters away, on the other side of the street from the square. I thought he was pretty good and I would make sure to give him some change, and then realized I had spent all my money on my chupa chup, and now I didn't even have that left. I tried to figure out what language the tourists behind me were speaking, and eventually narrowed it down to Russian--not because I know one word of Russian, but because it sounded kind of like the accents of the Russians in Air Force One. (I, evidently, have become a master linguist.) I looked over the hills and commented to myself (I hope not out loud) that it was a nice clear day--I couldn't see a brown line between the city and the sky.
It amazes me that I can remember my thoughts from today, a normal day, and I can't think of one that would have come into my mind a year ago. But somehow they all pass through my brain without any event or celebration--it's just normal life.
The human brain amazes me. As much as you can have culture shock, homesickness, complaining, and cravings for foods and facial products you can't get here, you still adjust. I found out pretty quickly that I can't force myself to adjust--that I can't make myself feel at home here before I'm ready to feel at home here. And then one day, standing in between a cathedral and a palace, listening to a street musician, trying to decipher a foreign language, commenting on pollution, and all the time sucking on a chupa chup, I realize that it has happened. My life is normal here. I didn't tell myself to think normal thoughts or to have normal days, it just happened.
Some days I still wake up and it takes me a few minutes to remember I'm in Spain. But then I get up, make my coffee, shower, and go on with life. It doesn't stop or wait for me to orient myself. And somehow, little by little, I adjust--I guess adjusting is just another normal part of life.
As for the metro in July and August--there are some things which I believe have no chance of adjustment. And anyway, do I really want to get used to body odor on public transportation?????
posted by kelly_w at 5:34 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home