The Grossest thing Ever

Just in case you wondered, I love Madrid. I love living here, and there are tons of good things about the city. Unfortunately, those things don't make interesting stories. The story I am about to tell you is not for the faint of heart or for the weak of stomach. This is the literal DIRT of everyday life in the city.

There are tons of alimentaciones in my neighborhood--little stores with everything a gas station market in the States would sell, except the store fits it all into a room 1/10 the size of a gas station market, and there are usually some gummies of questionable freshness that can be dipped out of plastic bins. I pass 2 or 3 alimentaciones in my walk from the Moncloa metro station to my apartment.

It happened a few months ago, in the hottest part of the summer, when everyone feels gross anway. One day, as I was walking home from the metro, I saw a man in front of the alimentacion furiously trying to shove something into a garbage can on the sidewalk. Whatever the package was, it was bigger than the hole, and it looked like a wrestling match, and the package was winning. As I neared, slowing down to watch such an unusual show of activity in the 40+ (100+F) weather, the whole scene came into focus. The "package" was actually one of the largest pigeons I have ever seen in my life, limp and lifeless, held by the foot. With each bang against the small opening, feathers flew and it became disfigured a bit more.

Believe me, I am no pigeon sympathizer. Since one decided that my head was a public toilet in March, I daily fight the urge to kick them as I walk down the street. Still, witnessing it's plight for a proper burial evoked more emotion than I expected. No wait, that was my gag reflex.

By this time, the man had both hands on the body of the pigeon, pushing with all his might until, POP, it finally passed through the hole and came to rest. Finally, the scene was over. I could go home in peace. Nothing grosser could happen. The pigeon was beyond reach.

It was at that moment that I watched the impromptu pigeon coroner announce that he had finished his work....by brushing his hands against each other, sighing, and going back inside and BEHIND THE COUNTER OF THE ALIMENTACION WHERE HE WAS WORKING!!!! No instant hand sanitizer, not even a paper towel.

Needless to say, I buy my gummies elsewhere.

the roaring 80's

My neighborhood is right next to one of the biggest universities in the world--it's full of students. Besides meaning that it is the clubbing destination for the under 20 crowd, it also means that it is a great place to come for cool shoe stores, seemingly hundreds of cute little accesory stores, and the latest fashions.

Mullets abound here. Business in the front, fiesta in the back. We're not talking about 40 year old rednecks with a beer gut, a dirty white tank top, and a gold chain, either. We're talking about guys and girls, my age, coming out of the expensive hairdressers looking like a million euros--or something like that. Famous singers have mullets. Some of my classmates have mullets. It's still gross. You can dress it up, give it money, put it on an attractive face, and it's still a mullet. You can put it in dreadlocks. It's still a mullet. You can dye it blue and/or red. It won't become something else. A mullet is a mullet is a mullet. A mullet by any other name will still look as nasty. I will let my hair grow to my ankles before I get a mullet.

I'm not as opposed to man-capri's as to mullets. On American men, yes, they look stupid. But I've actually seen some European men pull it off, and it doesn't look half bad. It probably has something to do with the fact that most of the men who wear them have legs that are thinner than most pencils.

Which brings me to female legwear--fishnet pantyhose and leg warmers. I think I want some! Does that mean it's time for me to go back to the States? I was looking for gloves yesterday on the way to meet some friends, and I was drawn to some cute black leg-sweater things in a window. Next thing I knew, I was picturing how cute they would look with one of my skirts and my black sweater. With my huge white hoops. I need a wide headband to finish off the ensemble. Good thing the legwarmers were ridiculously expensive. I almost got sucked in! And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've seen fishnets being tastefully worn too--usually combined with a cute skirt and legwarmers. I think I need to have my temperature taken--this is not right!

There was a good reason for the 80's to be over, and I don't think anyone was too upset when that fashion era ended (although we got some great monster ballads out of the deal). We need to stand strong against the mulleted, pointy toed, leg warmered, hot pink and lime green wave of evil that is sweeping Europe and is already in the cities in the US. We need to stand together in our boot-cut glory and shout a resounding NO!

I will never get a mullet.

Caedmon's call goes U2

Just in case you don't read the rest of this because it's too political or whatever for you, I'll go ahead and start by saying BUY THE NEW CAEDMON'S CALL CD!!!!!!!!!!!! I just bought it from itunes, and it's amazing. That said, I can now tell you why.

I have had several conversations with friends in the past about frustrations with Christian bands/singers. The complaints have a pretty wide range--everything from not liking Michael W. Smith's voice (my own personal complaint) and the fact that he sticks out his chin when he hits high notes to theological disagreements with their messages. One recurring theme, however, has been a general disappointment in what the ones who "make it big" do with their fame--for the most part, nothing. With the money that they are making and the influence that they have within the Christian community and sometimes in our society in general, couldn't they be doing more around the world?

I think U2 is a good example of what a bunch of regular guys in a band can actually do. I love reading about Bono, the lead singer, and all the cool stuff he does. I'm not saying his Christian example has always been perfect (whose has?) but man, he is passionate about using the stuff God has given him to be the body of Christ in the world, especially concerning the AIDS epidemic that is tearing Africa apart. He has used his fame and money to do everything from taking personal trips to Africa with different aid organizations to successfully lobbying for the US government to give $5 billion in relief, and he has been persistent in asking Western governments to cancel debt in these countries so they can start to stand on their own feet. Funny how they are the first example that comes to my mind on what a Christian band should do, and they have never been a "Christian" band in the marketing sense.

All this being said, when I read a review of the new Caedmon's Call CD in Relevant Magazine, I was pleasantly surprised to see that their newest effort is artistically and socially being compared to the significance U2's "The Joshua Tree." After looking at their own story on their website (http://www.caedmonscall.com/ns/about.htm) and buying and listening to their CD, I'm even more impressed. Artistically, it is a huge step up from their last album, with lots of international influence from recent travels to India, Ecuador, and Brazil. It's a lot of fun to listen to! Also, the band has become involved with a great organization called the Dalit Freedom Network. The Dalit are one of the untouchable castes in India, consisting of about 250 million people, who basically have no rights whatsoever. (The website explains it better than I do!) Besides raising awareness with some tough lyrics, they are raising money through sales and concerts to benefit organizations they support (including DFN), and they are also planning specifically to build two Dalit schools so the children from that caste can have a chance at education like kids from higher castes.

In other words, Caedmon's Call has gone U2--praise God! If you were thinking about buying the CD, please do! It's worth it to listen to, and it goes to people who are actually DOING SOMETHING!

Christmas Break to do list

Considering the content of the blog I just finished writing (all about realizing I'm getting adjusted), this one is going to sound totally contradictory. Sorry! Trust me, it's entirely possible to feel at home in one place and miss a thousand things from another all at the same time.

Anyone who has talked to me in the past month has heard (probably multiple times) that I'm very excited to go back to the states for Christmas. It's starting to look like I'll be busy while I'm there, though....here is a list of things that HAVE TO GET DONE while I'm in the states:

1)Hug my mom and probably make a fool of myself in the airport. Kiss, hug, cuddle, etc. the whole family until they make me stop.

2)Immediately grab the 32 oz. sweet tea out of my sister's hand and start guzzling--at 75 cents,
I can afford to guzzle!

3)Stand in Wal-Mart and hug the first (and 2nd and 3rd and 4th) person who says "Can I help you?" or "Have a nice day!"

4)Relish in the fact that as I stand there and make an idiot of myself, people will walk around me (not into me), guaranteeing us both our 3 feet of personal space.

5)Drive a car.

6)Go out and not come home smelling like an ashtray.

7)Breathe in deeply, and NOT smell body odor, smoke, or exhaust (I'll have to remember not to try this in Don's Super Saver--I'm pretty sure they don't meet the body odor requirement)

8)Make a phone call to someone who lives down the street--and not have to sell a kidney to pay for it

9)Go to a bank at 3 pm and thank them for being open after 2.

10)Eat dinner before 10pm.

11)Go entire days without seeing anyone making out in public.

12)Walk down a street and not see dog poo on a sidewalk.

13)Go to the post office, rather than the tobacco store, to be able to buy a stamp.

14)Have a milkshake which actually consists of more than milk that has been shaken up.

15)Go weeks without anyone asking me who I voted for or if I have contemplated suicide over the results of the election.

16)Look at a digital clock and see 8:30 instead of 20:30.

And last, but definitely not least, I will:

17) SPEAK ONLY ONE LANGUAGE!

Wow, I need to get off of the computer and start preparing. This is going to be a busy trip.

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?????