The Europicurean Experience

Recent art exhibit outings in Madrid

2008-05-25T15:17:00.007+02:00

In the past couple weeks we've gone out with greater frequency with the primary motivation of catching some temporary exhibits before they left the city, and along the way we've found some decent culinary spots too.

We saw a Picasso exhibit at the Reina Sofia, which included 5 times the number of Picasso works that normally grace the museum, on the last day before it was shipped back to the Musée Picasso in Paris. (Also, I recently read that the museum will be changing the installation space for Guernica in a good way, and I hope it gets completed soon. Since last year was a major anniversary of the painting, we saw tributes throughout Madrid and País Vasco, including a documentary about all the trouble the cuadro went through before it was finally restored to Spain.)

Then we went to the "Noche de museos" for free midnight entrance to the Modigliani exhibit at the Thyssen. The visit continued at the always-free Caja Madrid exhibition space. We saw some really great Modigliani portraits--with their signature elongation and soft brushstrokes--and plenty of other works by his contemporaries. I'm confident I would have been perfect for Paris in the 1910's.

Finally, just yesterday we caught the Alphonse Mucha exhibit at the newly inaugurated CaixaForum in Madrid. A Czech Art Nouveau artist, Mucha was well known for his gorgeous posters advertising everything from Sarah Bernhardt to bicycles to cigarette rolling paper, but it was also interesting to see his studies for non-commercial works.

Three places we've eaten out at and enjoyed recently have been Manuelas, with their turn-of-the-century columns and molding (and board games), Home Burger Bar, with delicious organic burgers (make a reservation or just get take-out), and La Sueca, a Swedish lounge with lots of salmon (surprise).

One thing's for sure: these three artists had very distinct ways of depicting women in their art. Just take a look at these three examples (all of which I like very much).

A beautiful May trip to Paris

2008-05-17T12:41:00.015+02:00

Preparatory research
lots of friends' personal recommendations
New York travel section
Paris veggie recs

French brushing up resources
Speaking Hints-French Notes
Real Life French podcast episodes
Easy French Poetry podcast
My conversations go quite well and I am pleasantly surprised to understand the majority of everything I hear and read.

Food eaten
carrot bread, tomme des vosges cheese, and rambutans from the Baudoyer plaza market:pain chocolat
crêpes (especially with nutella)
best bagels ever at Rosiers and Ecouffies Jewish bakeryfalafel at both L'As du Falafel and Chez Mariannemacaroons (a little disappointing, they remind me of flavored Tootsie Rolls)
decadent Ladurée berry cream puff

Museums visited The Louvre: Behold the crowds. The Denon wing is pretty well covered in a Rick Steves audio tour. After listening, we try to see some Rembrandt and Vermeer and stumble upon a truly bizarre temporary exhibit that has installed contemporary pieces alongside permanent collection pieces in the Flemish and Dutch painting rooms. We are completely unprepared for Jan Fabre's weirdness: sculptures covered in brass tacks, peacocks constructed out of pills, a recording of people moaning and wearing armor and the coup de grâce--Voldemort-Nagini amalgamation spread over tombstones occupying the Rubens hall. I don't photograph the craziest stuff.Musée d'Orsay: We only do the top floor because we want to concentrate more time there on Impressionists and Post-impressionists. New-found love of Toulouse-Lautrec for A. and discovery of Redon. Superb collection with lots of gems.Musée Rodin: There's a temporary exhibit of Camille Claudel which I would encourage everyone to see even though we couldn't. The place is really packed and we are there a little too close to closing time. Since I don't get to see the exhibit, I buy a book about her. So make sure you go early and preferably before July 20. I personally prefer the garden sculptures to the indoor installations, which are not laid out to handle so many visitors.Centre Pompidou: Only the Stravinsky fountains outside.
Sights seen
Institut du Monde Arabe: The mechanical openings are supposed to move but are at a standstill.Notre Dame: Outside only: way too many tourists for me to want to push through the swarms.InvalidesEiffel towerPantheonArc de Triomphe
Ambient highlights:
Rue Mouffetard
Other Latin Quarter streets, including one where a private lunch is being enjoyed in the shade Space invaders street art mosaicsFun little Marais shops near where we stay
Escaping the crowds back behind the Sacre CoeurBridges galore and the sunny SeineA much too long walk at night from Arc de Triomphe via the Eiffel tower to our hotel, admiring houseboats on the Seine along the way but ultimately killing our feet.
The marked contrast between a quiet right bank in the mornings and Les Halles packed with Paris teens in the evening.
The view outside our hotel window (Place Baudoyer):The only disconcerting experience we have is on a packed metro car on the way to Montmartre when a psychotic man picks a fight with an older woman who had (barely) bumped him with her baby stroller and it escalates to the point where he is forced off the car by fellow passengers, but not without yelling and striking the outside of the car. A couple of very tense minutes ensue, but in the end a plainclothes cop shows up and we all go on our way.

Window-shopping (window licking in French)
Stohrer bakery and other Rue Montorgueil gourmet shopsAve. Montagne: I don't recognize half the fashion house names but A. says he does. My jaw drops at the 4-digit price of a dress I see...and there's no decimal point.

Places on our to-see list for next time
Ste.-Chappelle
Peace memorial close to the Eiffel tower
Cinémathèque Française
Versailles
Flea markets

We saw a lot in three days. We hope it's the first of many.
(More photos at Picasa link).

A plea for Burma

2008-05-14T13:10:00.002+02:00

I will be updating shortly about our recent travels to Paris, but right now, because it weighs heavily on my mind, I want to provide you with some information about the cylcone aid crisis in Burma. My friend Thelma posted a heart-wrenching piece today about the current situation on her blog and it deserves mass distribution. I'm not sure if I merely feel out of the loop here in Spain or if there actually is as little coverage and widespread outrage regarding this tragedy--devasation on the scale of the 2004 tsunami--as I sense there is. (Thelma and company are obviously outraged and doing everything humanly possible to lobby important decision-makers about this--brava).

For those of you who may not know, Burma (called Myanmar by the junta dictatorship) has been in rough shape for a while now because of its thwarted attempts at democracy and human rights repression. The stituation started to get more press coverage with the monks protesting in fall 2007. And now, not only has the island been hit with a massive cyclone, but the junta's cruel indifference--no, willful neglect--is exacerbating the people's suffering. As you can read on the U.S. Campaign for Burma's main Cyclone Nargis information page, hundreds of thousands or millions of people are now at risk for death by starvation and disease because the government won't sanction foreign aid.

Their estimates already show 100,000 dead, 220,000 missing, at least 1 million homeless and at least 2 million more in desperate need of help. "A natural disaster is turning into a humanitarian catastrophe of genuinely epic proportions in significant part because of the malign neglect of the regime," said British Foreign Secretary David Miliband.

People and goverments need to take action on the scale they did after the December 2004 tsunami. But the trouble is not just donating, because supllies are already piling up. More vitally needed is the political willpower from the UN and the US to insist that food and medicine break through the military checkpoints. Thelma's organization has a handy-dandy list of ways you can help now. It includes:

1. Donate for Cyclone Relief

2. Host an event for the Global Day of Action, May 17th

3. Urge the UN to force Burma to accept aid

4. Pledge to Not Watch the Beijing Olympics

I don't know what else I can say, but here you have the information about what is happening and what action you can take within your sphere.

Homemade pasta and general updates

2008-04-27T14:25:00.013+02:00

A. and I have been quite busy in the last few months. He's in his third and last trimester, having gotten notable and sobresaliente grades. Lots of positive progress on his group business plan. I have taken on a few classes at the university including teaching one TOEFL prep class. I'm also keeping extra-busy at my cole where I now work full-time. Whereas we used to be three language assistants, one us quit in February and moved to Thailand. Long story. The end result, however, was that his hours were split between me and the other remaining language assistant. That's an extra 9 hours, and several new classfuls of names to learn.

As we enter the month of May, we are focusing on preparing the 2nd-graders for their upcoming oral Trinity examination. Lots of coaching, reviewing, etc. But there's still time of fun and games. The other day, I taught two classes the song, "On top of Spaghetti," complete with enthusiastic hand motions (and a twist-like meatball-to-mush move). It was quite the hit.

Speaking of pasta, with all our busy-ness during the week, A. and I try to relax as much as possible on the weekend. That usually means low-key activities with a delicious pay-off. Strolling about the city, for one, and cooking! We recently bought a pasta press and A. has been experimenting making fresh, handmade pasta. The first, black-olive dough was great, and the follow-up, these spinach raviolis, were even better.Kneading the dough to a perfect consistency and then rolling it through the press.It goes through many, many passes before it's just right.Added a two-cheese filling.Closing up the giant raviolis (nigh unto empanada size).Served with a fresh tomato and asparagus sauce. Yum!

Q & A for new langauge auxiliar applicants (Part 3)

2008-04-06T22:50:00.006+02:00

This post is the final installment of an email conversation between Lindsey, a girl who was applying to the language assistant program in Spain. Read Part 1 and Part 2.

Part three of our conversation...

Lindsey: Again, thanks so much for your great advice. All of it has been incredibly helpful. And thanks for the ballpark figures on rent and the abono etc . . . those are exactly what I needed to know! You're right, the 888 will be plenty with those costs. I'm wanting to do as much traveling as I can, so I'll probably try to find extra private opportunities to help fund those exploits.

I'll definitely check out those blogs and such you put too.

So I came up with one more question! I know there are breaks for Christmas and Easter and they're paid, my question is how long is the break for Christmas. If this does indeed work out and I get hired, there's a chance my family might come over for Christmas. So basically I'm just wondering how long before Christmas the break starts and how long it is so that if this does indeed pan out, they can start looking at dates. (Maybe you could just tell me the dates it was this year). THANKS SO MUCH!

Anyway, thanks again for all of your help. I think its awesome that you put all of this information out there to help other people with the process.

Me: Two weeks. This year is it was Mon. Dec. 24-Mon. Jan. 7 and we returned on the 8th. Also, we had the 21st off since we don't work Fridays, so if you counted all the days it was 18 days off.

Next year I am guessing the break will be Wed. Dec. 24-Wed. Jan. 7. They skimp a little on the days leading up to Christmas I think because the celebration of Reyes (Jan. 6) is so important.

Lindsey: I thought of a couple more little questions for you. One, for the police report of good conduct thing you're supposed to have . . . how did you go about getting that and what exactly do they want? I imagine there may be more details when the application is actually up on the site, but I want to start getting some of this done since I'm short on extra time.

Also, I read on the embassy site that they won't do visas by mail. Did you have to go in person to LA to get yours? Roadtrips to LA don't bother me I guess! :)

At the schools, do you wear jeans, or is it a little more business casual? I guess what I'm asking is if there is any sort of dress code. (So I know what I would need to bring).

Ok, I think that's it for now. Thanks again! :)

Me: For the police report I just went to [the city police office for] where I've been living for the past 4 years and got them to do a form letter saying I hadn't been involved in any crime and I got it the same day (cost 8 or 10 dollars). It will be notarized in the police dept. But then you must get an apostille of the Hague attached to it. To do this, take the document in person to the Utah State Capital Bldg. in SLC and they will do it in the Lt. Gov.'s office. It only costs 10 or 15 dollars to do it and have it mailed to you but any kind of rush is at least 60 dollars (I think that's for next-day pick-up). The apostille is a bureaucratic formality that essentially accredits the notary public. There may be other documents that need an apostille for the visa application, I can't remember. Do these all well in advance.

As to the visa application, you may want to look up the form so that you get enough copies, notarized copies, etc. of all the documents for both applications at the same time. The visa form is available on the web site of the LA Spanish consulate. You are required to go to LA unless you can get a legal letter authorizing someone else to apply for you. But I believe there's no way to get out of pickup up the card in person (weeks and weeks later).

Dress is über-casual at school meaning most teachers wear jeans. [I brought business casual-ish clothing like khakis but don't wear them much to work.]
...

If you are interested in applying for the program Lindsey and I discussed, here is the online application. Best of luck to all applicants!

Q & A for new langauge auxiliar applicants (Part 2)

2008-04-06T22:34:00.005+02:00

This post is part 2 of an email conversation between Lindsey, a girl who was applying to the language assistant program in Spain, begun here.

Part two of our conversation...

Lindsey: Thank you so much for your help in answering all my questions! I'll be honest, I'm getting really excited about the idea of all this, it sounds like its exactly what I'm looking for. I do have a couple more questions, and I hope I'm not being a nuisance!

You said you were doing this to support your husband and yourself over there . . . is 888 Euros a month enough to do that?! I've been trying to think about it (and I'm sure its different for two - and married - than a single person who can live with roommates) and without a car payment or gas expenses (I'd just get an abono) it sounds pretty doable. Do you find that it covers most of your needs?

I've been looking at the boards on the [Madrid Auxiliares] Yahoo group and it looks like different housing opportunities come up fairly often. Did you and your husband find a place before going over or did you do a hostel or hotel until you found somewhere? If you did find one previously, how did you go about looking for it?

From your last email it sounds like you come up with some of the teaching activities yourself. I, like you, have no plans to become a teacher of any sort in the future, this is really an excuse to get back into Spain/Europe for awhile. It doesn't sound like you NEED any teaching experience but have you found that its pretty guided and easy to fulfill their expectations of you or do you feel that you've been at a disadvantage not having taught before? (Or maybe you have taught before!)

As I said, I will be graduating this year, so my next question is how early do I need to apply? From one of the blogs you gave me (and those ARE great resources, so thank you SO much) it sounded like the job itself is from October to May or so, but I'm assuming you need to have applied and been accepted long before that. I checked out the official website (again, thanks for that link, I'll be watching that closely) and as soon as I see that I CAN apply I will. Did you apply early and do you think that the earlier you apply the greater chance you have, or does it not really work like that?

Also, I read on the official website that you cannot get a second type of job because you're on a student visa. Do you HAVE to come over on a student visa in order to be an auxiliary? Or could I try to get another type in case I did want to find another part time job?(This kind of ties in with my earlier question about the money being enough . . . I'm concerned I may need another bit of income) If I'm asking questions that you don't know, I apologize!

I think I'm finally out of questions. Again, I so appreciate your being willing to answer all of my questions and give me a first hand perspective of this. You're a life saver! I'm sorry if I'm driving you nuts with all these questions.

Me: Heh. I think I'd be living like a queen over here if I were only supporting one person. 888 euros seems like quite enough to me, considering the avg. rental price for a single room in a shared apt. is 300 a month. Add to that the cheap 45-or-so cost for an abono [in] Madrid (including metro, bus and cercanías). If you're outside of Madrid, your pay is slightly less but then again housing is less too. So you're still left with a good chunk for food, going out, whatever else you need (I, for one, find a home internet connection to be essential) and even some moderate traveling. Granted, it isn't too hard to get supplementary income from private tutoring which helps to pad the budget. And these are all prices in euros, which isn't good when your income is in dollars but which is perfectly manageable when you are paid in euros.

I would always recommend having enough savings for when you initially come over though, because you'll arrive sometime in Sept. and won't get your first paycheck until the end of Oct.

As for encountering housing, it is really hit and miss and all in all pretty stressful. We were lucky to find a place after 4 days of dogged searching, during which time we stayed in a hostel, but I know people who have spent much more time searching. Madrid is a very competitive market in the landlords' favor. In the end, we got into a place that is geographically convenient but that we share with two flatmates (keeps it affordable). I wouldn't be comfortable deciding on a place before I got here and had a chance to actually check it out.

For helpful hints you may want to look at the discussion board on these the Auxiliares en Madrid facebook group, especially "Memoirs of a Piso Hunter". It has some good general tips. Also, there are some good tips [from other auxiliars] here .

If you want to waste a lot of time reading our chronicled piso hunt, you can check out my blog, but I haven't boiled it down to specific tips there. If I were to codify the rules, I'd say

use segundamano and loquo and idealista and whatever other sites are commonly used for piso listings
do your best to sell yourself to future roommates/landlords as a cool, tidy, financially secure person (be prepared with your program acceptance letter, bank statements, etc. as evidence)
check out all your transport possibilities with the online map or pick up a "plano de transportes de la comunidad de madrid"; don't get boxed into thinking about only metro comunicación and above all
be persistent and follow up on every single lead.

I had some prior teaching experience, [including TESOL and other adult teaching experiences,] but not anything dealing with small children, which made me nervous at first. But I found that the ministry has been good with offering ideas through training seminars and beyond that I've looked up teaching resources online occasionally. From my experience, I don't think you need to bring anything specifically for the kids like books, since you won't know their specific ages in advance. (The only thing that's really come in handy are photos and postcards, etc. from back home for you to make a poster of some sort about yourself at the school.)

And at my school, we stick pretty closely to the textbooks, so anything I come up with that dovetails with the material is something that I can put together just by reading a unit ahead. There are no guarantees because of the number of schools involved, but my fellow teachers were helpful in making sure I got a teacher's copy of the textbook for myself. I think enthusiasm and charisma is the most important asset you can bring. And your job mostly comes down to creatively and simply explaining information to the kids (with miming and props as necessary). And I have a bunch of random TESOL site bookmarks listed here: http://del.icio.us/unrulyjulie/tesol. Oh, and definitely talk up your [previous teaching] experience--that will be very positive for the application reviewers.

Apparently applications are reviewed at the end rather than ongoing so theoretically it shouldn't matter when you apply. I applied right before the deadline (April 15th, right along with taxes) and I was officially graduating in August and I was accepted. You can apply early on if you want to and simply note that you are on track to be graduated before the program would begin. You probably still won't get a response until a month after the final deadline.

As to the visas, you will be given all the paperwork and instructions for obtaining a student visa which will be a single-entry good-for-90-days visa. It allows you to be an auxiliar but does not allow for any work authorization. Within the first month that you arrive you have to "renew" the visa in a sense by applying for a NIE (número de identificación de extranjero) and a tarjeta de estudiante. These will make your stay legal for the duration of the program.

To legally be allowed to work outside the program, you must either come on a worker visa (which requires as a precondition a work contract from a Spanish company) or you would need to apply for a work permit when you are here (separate from your student card and also contingent upon a formal contract of work from a Spanish company). These are very difficult to obtain, so the best recommendation is to rely on the stipend and give some private lessons if you are comfortable with being paid in cash (technically not legal, but it's a widespread practice). Some people also seek employment from private academies to supplement their income (10-20 hours teaching English to groups through the academy). The topic of finding private students yourself is another on that I won't delve into here but it's not hard.

I do hope this program works out for you and at any rate, I will probably post excerpts of this on my blog for other interested persons to read, that is, if that's OK with you.

This is a three-part posting of our conversation. It continues here...

If you are interested in applying for the program Lindsey and I discussed, here is the online application. Best of luck to all applicants!

Q & A for new langauge auxiliar applicants (Part 1)

2008-04-06T22:17:00.008+02:00

A mutual friend referred me to Lindsey, a girl who wanted to apply for the language assistant program in Spain, and we had the following email conversation back and forth. She gave me permission to reproduce it here. The deadline for applying to the program for '08-'09 is fast approaching (April 15, just like taxes!) Click here procrastinators!

Part one of our conversation...

Lindsey: So here's the deal: I just got finished doing the Spain [Semester] Study Abroad and I'm currently in my last semester here. I don't feel "done" as far as Spanish is concerned and I don't feel done in Europe, I love it! So I'm wanting to find a job in Spain where I can work for a limited time (6 months to a year) to continue getting that immersion experience.

I'm pretty short on money so I'm looking for paying jobs rather than internships that are more only for the experience. Anyway, I know [our friend] had mentioned that you were doing some sort of teaching over there while your husband is in grad school. Can you give me some more details about what it is you actually do, your schedule etc? And I'm assuming its a paid position, right? I'm not looking to make a lot of money obviously, mostly just to offset the cost of moving and living over there.

Any light you can shed would be awesome. I love Spain and am just dying to get back over there!

Me: Well, those are all very good reasons to apply to this program. While the job is focused on being an assistant English teacher, just being here means that your time outside the classroom may be spent exploring the magical land that is Spain. My reasoning to apply was that my husband was looking into a master's program and I would need to support us somehow...plus we wanted to have an experience living abroad so that we could traipse about Europe.

The nitty-gritty of the position is that you work 12 hours per week and get paid 700 euros per month, including those months with vacation breaks (Dec. and whenever Easter falls). In Madrid things are slightly different, where you work 16 hours per week and get paid 888 euros per month (though that may change slightly next year. The 700 euro figure for the rest of Spain was recently announced as a raise from this year's stipend. The higher pay in Madrid was never (and presumably won't be) broadly advertised; I only found out about it after I was accepted to Madrid). You rank the provinces you prefer to placed in on your application, and I believe every Spanish province is participating. I named Madrid as my top and only option (knowing that's where my husband's school was located) and got accepted. The official application [is currently up until April 15] at this site:
http://www.mec.es/exterior/usa/es/programas/auxiliares_us/aux_us.shtml

Their selection criteria really centers on whether you've completed a bachelor's degree by the time you start the program, and whether you've had any overseas living experience or experience teaching (esp. foreign language). As far as I can tell, with those basic credentials and a good statement of intent, you should be accepted.

My experience has been positive. I work 3-4 hours per day M-Th at my school in Getafe (just south of Madrid, slightly closer than Alcalá is). At my school there are two other auxiliares. The auxiliar's role is to assist in teaching English in the classroom, always with real Spanish teachers being in charge. Along with the English subject, science and art are taught in English as part of the Madrid school system's bilingual initiative. I teach in different classes in the school ranging from ages 3 to 9. My responsibilities are to aid in pronunciation and to lead certain activities. Some schools are more open to creative ideas you propose than others; it's always a balance between the required curriculum and fun language learning activities.

I enjoy the work and even though I have no intention of being a Spanish, English, or any other kind of teacher, it is a good part-time position that is supporting my living in Spain. Most of the American auxiliares are fresh out of college. The Brits are mostly in the year before their final year at university. We don't see an awful lot of each other except for the other people placed at your school. Maybe that's just boring married me; there may be some exceptions that seek out other auxiliares' company. But nothing is formally organized. Your living situation would most likely be in a shared apartment with other foreign and/or Spanish students, and that could certainly affect your experience. For the perspectives of two (single, female) acquaintances of mine who are in the program, check out these two blogs:
http://kdinspain.blogspot.com/
http://buenapinta.blogspot.com/

Both blogs would be really great resources. Do browse the [North American Language and Culture Assistant Program 2007-2008 and Auxiliares norteamericanos en Madrid 2007-2008 Facebook] groups if you want just to read previous Qs and As, i.e. mostly for background research, thought people don't generally stay that active on the boards once the school year has started.

Any other questions you have, throw them my way.

This is a three-part posting of our conversation. It continues here...

If you are interested in applying for the program Lindsey and I discussed, here is the online application. Best of luck to all applicants!

How accents enrich language (and confound English learners)

2008-03-05T12:17:00.005+01:00

Having studied accents and dialects in theatre, I find this actress's ability to slip in and out of 21 accents in 2 minutes nothing short of amazing. Listen for yourself.

As a TESL teacher, I am very conscious of my accent when speaking to students, because I want to speak clearly and be understood and to have them emulate my pronunciation. But there just is no such thing as a neutral English accent. The so-called trans-Atlantic accent now just conjures the image of Katherine Hepburn.

Sure, you may believe you are accent-less, but that is a subjective judgment relative to where the listener is from and how they speak. Since I'm from Maryland, I have more or less a Middle Atlantic American accent. But my accent sticks out like a sore thumb in any other U.S. region, and even more so in UK-accent-partial Europe.

Language learning takes more than scattered classes

2008-02-02T17:44:00.001+01:00

According to language learning experts quoted in a NYT article, "If It's Tuesday, It Must Be Spanish," kids need immersion to become fluent in a language--they need to be exposed to a language for at least 30% of their waking hours for the language to really sink in. Which means that sporadic classes may be of some help to get their little ears used to the language's sounds, but classes alone aren't enough. Kids need back-up activities at home. And they need fun and games, not flashcards and rote exercises.

I think this all applies very much to my experience teaching English here in Spain. I can see the most progress in kids who do their homework and study regularly at home, but by no means are any of them fluent in English. Nor will any of them become fluent without home-based support. I see the most hope for second-language acquisition for those kids who come from non-Spanish backgrounds...Romanian, Chinese, Moroccan, etc. They will hopefully retain their mother tongue and acquire Spanish as well. But whether they or any of their native Spaniard classmates will really learn English to a high degree depends on many factors outside the classroom. We are supposedly offering the children bilingual Spanish and English education but the reality is it is not an immersion environment. We still mostly approach their education as though it were a second language and we tackle it in less than 1-hour-at-a-time chunks.

In my personal experience, I have become nearly fluent in Spanish, but only after 10 years of studying it. At the end of high school, I still had halting speech and incomplete grammatical understandings. It was only with rigorous university-level classes--literature seminars especially--taught exclusively in Spanish by fluent and often native professors who demanded we always use Spanish in speech and writing, that I started to get closer to where I am today. Then, I did a 3.5 month study-abroad in Spain and then, I came back and married a native Spanish-speaker. Speaking Spanish and English on a daily basis together is the surest means by which we have both improved our respective second languages. Neither of us continues with formal classroom learning but we read, listen to and converse in both English and Spanish, organically.

We intend to raise our future children in Spanish and English and will follow the prevailing research to do that in the best way, with the goal of them being equally comfortable expressing themselves verbally and in writing in both the mother's and father's tongues. I hope that they will pick up a third language through schooling, but depending on when and how that third language is introduced, they will probably never become truly fluent, since they won't have back-up support in the home.

Sevilla, architecture and azulejos

2008-01-29T00:06:00.000+01:00

Sevilla was a fun visit, but we felt like there was a lot we weren't able to see that we would've liked to. Like the Plaza de Toros, the Archivo de Indias and Museo de Bellas Artes. Still, we were able to see the Alcázar and the Plaza de España. See the first; but skip the second. In homage to all the beautiful azulejos and yeso carvings we saw on our journey, here are pictures we took of architectural details in Sevilla (Alcázar), Granada (Alhambra) and Córdoba (Meziquita):

The most trouble we ran into in Sevilla when it came time for tapas was that all the cheap places were standing-room only, and all the places where you could sit weren't cheap. I'm sorry to say we didn't make it to a flamenco bar that night, being pretty tired from our whirwind tour of Andalucía. We resolved to go see live flamenco in Madrid, perhaps for example at Cardamomo.

Granada and the Alhambra

2008-01-28T13:13:00.000+01:00

Granada...magical city. The closest I think I've ever been to Morrocco, literally and figuratively. Its main attraction, of course, is the stunning palace of El Alhambra. I had my fst chance to visit it in 2004 and I had anticipated the place for a long time. That's because way back in middle school, I had played a piano duet in three parts: "The Alhambra Suite."

When we arrived by bus from Córdoba, we decided we'd try to squeeze that landmark in during the afternoon, but after a quick falafel and catching a bus to the Alhambra, we realized all the tickets earmarked for that day had been sold out. Word to the wise: buy them in advance.

We resolved to rise really early to stand in line for same-day tickets and spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the labyrinthine Albayzin area, and encountering lots of Grenadine life--like impromptu flamenco practices in a park with the Alhambra brooding in the sunset (too bad we had no audio recorder with us to pick up the live guitar). We would recommend going to the mosque instead of the mirador for your least crowded viewing experience.

Leaving the Albayzin area just after dark didn't seem like the greatest idea when we were all by ourselves in a very, ahem, bohemian area, but soon enough we were back down near the city center on backstreets modeled after Arabic bazaars. We were enticed by scarves and slippers and in our hunt for silk teabags for a gift, we met a really great shopkeeper at the Flor de la Té (everyone sent us his way and he turned out to be the premier supplier of everyone else).

We especially loved the teterías and the dulces árabes you can buy in this area. I think those two items alone could convince me to join one of Granada's hippie-student communes.

We ate at an OK Lebanese restaurant, but I regret not having sought out the pitch-perfect couscous at Restaurante Arrayanes, which comes highly recommended.

In the morning, we were at the Alhambra entrance at 7 a.m. and were able to get tickets for the complex. It felt uncomfortably crowded, moreso than I'd remembered, but out in the Generalife gardens it felt more private.

The strangest part was seeing the showpiece Court of Lions, which normally has a fountain surrounded by 12 lions in the center, but due to restoration has...a big box.

Córdoba

2008-01-28T12:21:00.000+01:00

Shame on me for waiting what is an eternity in blog-time to catch up on posting. All one of my readers has complained. ; ) Without further ado, here's my write-up of the earliest backlog--our December trip to Andalucía...

In case you didn't know, Spaniards have a habit of taking an extra day off if it happens to fall between a Thursday or Tuesday holiday and the weekend. This is codified into many school calendars at various times throughout the year, and the result is referred to as a "bridge," or puente.

For our early December puente, we were very ambitious, and decided we could visit 3 cities in the south in 4 days. The first city we hit was beautiful Córdoba. After a quick chocolate and churros breakfast at El Brillante, we hopped on a Talgo express train from Atocha to Córdoba a city that harks back to Al-Andalus, or Muslim-ruled Spain.

Upon getting off, we were very hungry and searched for too long for food before deciding on a so-so place "Ohlalá" for nourishing bocadillos. We then had only an hour or so to catch the mezquita-catedral and we didn't have a hostal yet so went there with our rolling luggage in hand, bouncing along the narrow cobblestone roads.

The mosque-turned-cathedral is amazing and definitely one of the top historical architectures I've ever visited, with its hundreds of red and white arches.

Unfortunately, the original beauty of the mezquita is considerably marred by the walling in and conversion to a cathedral that was started in the 1200s, upon Córdoba's reconquest. While the entire building is rather incongruous, it does provide interesting juxtapositions for photographs. Like this crucifixion scene:

My favorite part of the building is the mihrab, from where prayers were led. It reminds me of the Spanish scenes in The Fountain.

After the mezquita we found a nice place to stay at 30 euros a night. It was called Pensión El Portillo. We dumped our stuff, got ready, and went out for tapas. And oh, what tapas we had. First stop was a buzzing place we had seen tucked away off Calle Judíos called Taberna Guzmán. The place is covered with bullfighting memorabilia and they serve a fantastic tapa called berenjenas aliñadas.

Our next stop was right near the hostal, appetizingly called "Taberna Sociedad de Plateros" (Silversmiths Society Tavern?) (Calle San Francisco 6). We had mouthwatering carne con tomate and torta de gambas in a cute covered patio with friendly waitstaff.

Aside from that we had a leisurely walk along the historic streets of near the mezquita, enjoying the warm Andalucian weather. In the morning, we breakfasted on fresh tartas del Alcázar and visited the Julio Romero de Torres Museum (famous Andalucía/flamenco culture paintins, free on Saturdas), the synagogue, and the Casa Andalusí (plenty of photo opps there). By mid-day we were on a long bus headed for Granada and the magical Alhambra.

(Finally) picking up NIE cards. Plus, on sending overseas packages

2007-12-05T20:15:00.000+01:00

A. and I were recently able to pick up our tarjetas de estudiante without any problems. Based on some advice from other people in my program, we went to the police station on General Pardiñas not as early as we could as we had previously done, but at 12:30 p.m. Like magic, there was almost no line, and we were brusquely whisked inside and attended to within less than an hour. Amazing. Seems they turn people away and weed through the line in the late morning/early afternoon. That, and they may actually make headway on the line for just picking up cards (takes about 60 seconds face time for each applicant). I still think things would be vastly improved if they were to have an efficient appointment setting mechanism, perhaps similar to the USCIS's InfoPass.

Now we possess the card that will allow to attest to our being here legally for a year and we can now travel worry-free. Interestingly, at the police station they didn't take from us the receipts proving we'd paid the card fee, which we had paid months earlier. Also, they didn't care at all that it had been more than 45 days since we had our appointment, which technically is the time frame during which you must retrieve your card.

In another overseas living adventure, I tried to mail a package to New York this past Friday. I chose UPS because I needed to be sure it would arrive and not get bogged down in Spain's domestic mail system. UPS only gives you the options of fast and faster, or Express and Express Plus (everything's by plane, and I kind of think they are losing out of a market for slightly slower but more affordable guaranteed shipping). I chose Express, which costs about half what Express Plus costs--still pricey at around 40 euros. The documents wouldn't have to pass customs and were supposed to arrive Monday by 10:30 a.m.

The package arrived today, two days late. That was due at first to an "exception" beyond UPS control (what it was attributed to I have no idea) and then later to a misrouting (which I believe falls within their control). In all, the package went from Madrid to Cologne, Germany, to Newark, NJ to Philadelphia, PA to Buffalo, NY. I'm planning to request a refund.

Teaching about my state Maryland

2007-12-05T20:02:00.000+01:00

Earlier in November my mom visited (we had lots of fun, day-tripping to Toledo and whatnot). She came bearing gifts from back home, including natural peanut butter, an HP printer, and a Baltimore Orioles baseball cap. I had requested the last item so that I could make a poster all about me for school, not because I'm particularly fond of the team or anything.

Well, here are the results, although I've got to find a better way to hold up the baseball cap (tape doesn't cut it). It was in the now blank space between the oriole and crab:I'm especially proud of my version of Maryland's flag. I had never realized how perfectly geometric it was until I sat down to cut it out of construction paper. I will be using the poster as a tool in English classes for upcoming units.

Olde Tyme Flamenco

2007-11-24T22:39:00.001+01:00

I found these great old flamenco videos and was captivated by them. Let me know if you have any others to recommend.

Great Spanish commercials (or music videos)

2007-11-18T17:15:00.000+01:00

Going beyond the usually banal jingles associated with Spanish brands, these two commercials feature really inventive songs and are practically music videos in and of themselves. Check out this hilarious 80's-channeling dance video of "The Polyesters" (which seeks to equalize housework between the sexes while selling Puntomatic laundry detergent to men):

And this one for IKEA has music written by Toni M. Mir y Joaquim Molins of Trafalgar 13, and sung by Joao Oliveira y Jordi Guerrero of LaRUMBÉ:

My impact on students

2007-11-18T17:01:00.000+01:00

On my way back from school one day last week I was sitting in front of a 6-year-old student from my school and overheard him recounting the story of Hänsel and Gretel to his mom. I was impressed with his recollection of the evil stepmother, the birds eating up the bread crumbs, and Hänsel's tricking the witch by using a bone.

But I got a real kick out of his twist on the witch's demise. "And then, the girl stuffed the witch into a box--into a microwave!" he declared proudly to his mother. Even in Spanish, kids say the darnedest things!

One month down: getting paid, Halloween, etc.

2007-11-05T21:39:00.000+01:00

Well, fall is in full swing and I've been working at my school for a whole month now. I've had great experiences, and most importantly, I've received my first paycheck. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to open a bank account but actually found opening one was a breeze. For documentation, I offered my receipt from my last immigration appointment, which contains my NIE on it. They asked me to bring my student card in when I get it.

Funny thing about that card. The instructions from the official we applied with were to go to General Pardiñas to pick up our cards after 30 days and specifically that we could go to the head of the line. Well, on Oct. 24 we headed down to our favorite police station for the simple task of collecting our shiny new cards. But when we got there, we were flat-out denied entrance to the building and told to get in line. No amount of persistent reasoning would help. At least we weren't rudely told "los romanos a la puta fila," like one police officer said to another fellow.

Unfortunately even my bosses at the Ministry of Education can't help out. I appealed to them for help but they apologized that they couldn't set card pick-up appointments for anyone in my program. I've decided for now I will do without bother to pick up the actual card (and wasting a full day waiting in line to do so) unless/until it becomes absolutely necessary. For now, though, even travel to other EU countries doesn't seem to require physical presentation of the card.

Regarding my teaching job: One of the highlights of the last weeks has been preparing for Halloween (or Jaloguín, as it is sometimes spelled by Spanish speakers). Several of the teachers got really into decorating and planning for this holiday, which isn't traditionally celebrated here in Spain. The were almost too excited about scaring the kids, pouring countless hours into the pasaje del terror, an empty classroom transformed into a haunted house. In the end, the dark, black-light-lit room was really quite scary and it caused several kids to cry.

I spent the morning of Halloween performing the part of the witch in a very funny rendition of Hänsel and Gretel (the other two auxiliares played the title characters). We figured we wouldn't bother trying to put on a truly "scary" story and that the Grimm story would fit the bill considering Hänsel and Gretel's parents' disturbing reasoning for abandoning their children, the existence of a witch and a of a house made of candy.

The kids and teachers were adamant that Halloween costumes must be scary: I saw vampires, ghosts, devils, witches and plenty of fake blood. I tried to argue that fun, pretty and clever costumes were more the norm in the states, but every example I brought up was classified better as a Carnaval costume. The one notable exception were the preschoolers, who we dressed up in cute pumpkin and bat costumes (plastic bags and paper masks) and this first year, probably my favorite kid in all of school:

He is enjoying the chocolate and Oreo mud dessert we made for the kids to enjoy at the end of the day. The other highlight of the celebrations was teaching the 3, 4 and 5 year olds the "Five Little Pumpkins" nursery rhyme. "Oooo went the wind, and out went the lights, and the five little pumplins they rolled right out of sight!"

The wire transfer goes through

2007-10-21T16:25:00.000+02:00

This week we were emailed by the university to let us know that the wire transfer I'd been trying to initiate for month now finally went through. The reason it took so long? Turns out the bank kept giving me the wrong fax number. When I called them for the last exasperated time, I spoke to somebody in a different department and they gave me a new number and it actually worked.

Now I'm crossing my fingers that we get a scholarship and don't have to pay the final tuition installment.

Oct. 12: Día de something

2007-10-14T21:33:00.000+02:00

I'm really not sure why there are so many different names for the same holiday, this past Friday, October 12: in Latin America it's known as Día de la Raza, here it's called Día de la hispanidad but it's also known as the religious festival Día de Nuestra Señora Pilar. It's Columbus Day in the states. For Spain it's supposed to be a nationalist holiday, for Spain's former colonies it's supposed to be a day to assert indigenous pride and memorialize the beginning of their unfortunate conquest, and for the US, it's supposed to be a holiday to celebrate their being discovered (sounds an awful lot like a Hollywood aspiration, being discovered).

Anyways, we went out with several friends to celebrate and pretty much missed the whole VivAmerica concert-on-wheels. I did snag this photo of the Dominican rappers, but they were the last of four floats to pass and we weren't interested in fighting the crowd up to hear Carlos Vives' crooning. We took advantage of the lights of the oncoming cleaner trucks to take pictures, including the one at the beginning of this post; as one friend pictured commented, there we have representation, from left to right, from Mexico, the US (that's me!), the Czech Republic, the Filipines, US/Spain, Colombia, Mexico and Panama. I think the most important thing we commemorated was our shared friendship, more than nationality or language. We wandered away from the Paseo de la Castellana and the crowds to celebrate elsewhere, eating tapas, dancing in an Irish pub, and later going out for churros con chocolate. You can thank the New World for the latter treat!

School days

2007-10-12T17:29:00.000+02:00

Some of my impressions from my first week of teaching: I have 6 days under my belt now at a colegio bilingüe (bilingual elementary school). I work Monday through Thursday, with morning classes every day but Wednesday and 1-2 afternoon classes every day but Monday. After arriving slightly late on my first day, due to rain-related traffic delays, I make sure to give myself an hour's time for the bus commute. It's probably only a 20-minute ride from Madrid, but I have to walk to and from the bus stops on both ends.

Being a bilingual school means that every subject except Spanish and Math is taught in English. At least, theoretically. The kids I work with are for the most part 6-9 years old in 1st-3rd grade. The school encompasses a preschool and primary school, so the age range is 3-12. I see the 3-year-old class once a week and the 4-year-olds once a week; I see one 3rd year class seven times a week for English, science, and art; I see one 1st year class twice a week for English and art; one 2nd year class once a week for English; and the other (terrible) 2nd year class once a week for English. I also will be teaching English to the staff twice a week.

The bilingual program was started three years ago with the then-first-years. It has expanded one grade level each year, so the 3rd years are the oldest students in the program. Theoretically, all students at the school will take part in it at the end of two more years. There are some problems with the program's implementation (district-wide, not just at this school), which I may touch on in future posts. But on the whole, this is a really positive program with great potential for improving the second-language acquisition in this country.

There are 1,000 North American Language and Culture Assistants (from the US and Canada) in Spain for this school year, but I'm not sure what the breakdown for Madrid is. At my school there is another American, a girl from Florida who graduated last year in political science, and a boy from England who will be entering his last year of university Spanish studies after this year. He is completing the program through the British Council, and was required to either complete this program or to do a year of foreign university studies in order to graduate. On the other hand, most North Americans already have their degrees, meaning their intentions are probably different.

What were my intentions entering in the program? Well, it certainly wasn't to get elementary school teaching experience. It's not the career I studied (journalism and translation). More than anything, I was interested in working legally in order to support me and A. here while he does his MBA. The stipend is enough for us to survive but not enough for saving, travel, or tuition. Very few auxiliares are in my position as a married person providing the sole income for two. What will I get out of it? Hopefully I will learn a lot myself through this experience, and I hope my pupils will also learn a lot from me.

My school is a public school, so it has a mostly blue-collar profile with some immigrants. The building is nothing special...brick, three levels with remarkably acoustic halls as children enter or exit noisily. I was so amused by the life-sized drawing the children made to welcome us. The American girl came out looking like Super Woman, the British boy looked like a superhero of some kind, and I was drawn...as a clown. How adorable!

The English teachers and their peers have adopted us into their clique. They immediately welcomed us to the group as friends and have since treated us as colleagues, joking, commiserating and more. On our first day, we went out together for lunch at a nearby restaurant. The group includes the five main English teachers plus other young, "cool" teachers: the speech specialist and special ed teacher, two infantiles teachers, and the former gym teacher-cum-jefe de estudios.

Every day we have an hour of either planning or English lessons with the other teachers, and then an hour for lunch. The lunch is free for us auxiliares and I make sure to fill up; we also have fruit and other snacks provided for us in the morning while the kids have recess. Before congregating in the cafeteria for lunch, our group also goes to "their" bar around the corner. It's a place to blow off smoke, literally for some, but figuratively for everyone. We joke that of all the school bells, the most important one by far is the one signaling it's cañas time.

Of all the English specialists, the infants' English teacher is the most fluent and always asking me and other English assistants about the correct term for this or that. The little ones are lucky to have him. He is a prepared teacher and can carry an entire class through almost entirely in English. The little ones are so cute; always smiling, waving and hugging you. Teaching them is comprised mostly of games and songs; my favorite song so far being "Hello Everyone, Tra-la-la-la-la."

The teacher that I see most frequently is the 3rd year English teacher. She is experienced and I think we have a friendly bond. But she won't take any nonsense--from other teachers or from her pupils. She has had these kids now for the past two years, and she knows them well. She also has a good relationship with most of their parents. Importantly, she always follows through on her promises and threats. If she says you won't have recess or she's going to call your mom, she means it.

I get to work with the third year kids for English, science (natural and social sciences combined) and art class. So far, my participation has been more limited, correcting pronunciation here and observing the curriculum, but already I have been given command by the teacher for conducting certain activities or reviewing homework assignments. I can tell the kids respect and like me too. I look forward to doing more creative activities in the future. I look forward to helping their English improve leaps and bounds.

Right now, I see a lot of quizzical looks and hear the (cute) refrain, "Can you repeat please?" and more often than not we have to resort to Spanish for explaining (or scolding). I hope we don't have to use Spanish as much as the year goes by, but the teacher argues it is important that they understand the basic concepts at least in their native language. Teaching science in English when they don't even have a base knowledge in Spanish is very difficult.

I think it is important to be tough at the beginning of the year. First you establish order and discipline, and later you can relax and joke together as a class. But without order, you cannot teach and the students cannot learn. A case in point is the stark contrast with the terrible 2nd year class. The teacher isn't bad but this is her first year. The main issue is that the second-year students apparently had a teacher last year who let anything go and never punished a single student for misbehaving.

These children scream at the teacher without being called on, hit one another, don't stay in their seats, take things from others without asking, complain about having to sit next to someone they don't like, and when we actually try to work, many copy the answers from their neighbor. I am convinced the only way to remedy this chaos is with a firm hand. Their learning was totally stagnated last year and as a group they are behind not only in English, but evidently in basics like the Spanish alphabet as well. To make matters worse, there are two children diagnosed as hyperactive. One possible approach would be dividing the 20+ class into two smaller groups within the same classroom so that we can give more individualized attention to them.

Right now, it reminds me of the kids in Room 207 (from the book Miss Nelson...maybe that could teach us a solution!) The 3rd-year teacher told the 2nd-year teacher that it is worth getting control of the class by being absolutely zero-tolerance on bad behavior, even if it means losing a few weeks of teaching time. It's really a challenge to impart knowledge when there is no order. I would be so pleased just to see an orderly end of class in which materials are stacked away, chairs are pushed under desks, the children line up and leave without running or shoving. The state of things especially worrisome because at the end of the year, the second years are expected to pass an English oral exam, as administrated by Trinity College contacts.

Yesterday, I gave the class one serious talking-to, and they finally paid attention. In Spanish, I told them how disappointed I was with their behavior after coming all the way from another country far, far away. I told them how much I wanted to teach them English and how I couldn't believe they were seven-year-old children, when they were acting like wild animals.

Then I worked with them for half of recess on the exercise at hand (alphabetically ordering sets of three words, like pear, apple and bananas). The teacher took them down to the patio for the second half of recess, but they had to sit and work in their books. I reprimanded two students individually (one who had been yelling and the other who had been fighting) but they actually seemed happy to have some constructive attention. "I hope things are better on Monday," I told the class. I really hope so.

I'm happy with my job at the end of this week. I feel like I am valued by the other teachers, and I enjoy working with the children. Stay tuned for our Halloween preparation, other adventures and my philosophizing on other educational topics.

De marcha en Madrid

2007-10-06T19:48:00.001+02:00

Friday night A. and I went out, leaving the house at 12 midnight. We met up with his friends/master's classmates at one of their flats near Las Ventas bullring (I still haven't seen a bull fight, though I'm fairly against them).

This was the first time I had met the bunch and I could tell right off they were a fun and smart bunch (something that can't be said for previous groups of A's colleagues). How do I know this? The first topic of discussion we launched into was film; we swapped recommendations for Estrellas de la línea, Amores Perros, Pi, María Full of Grace, Yesterday, and Lord of War, among others.

Around 3 a.m. we caught a night bus to a discoteca called La Botellita on the Paseo de la Castellana by the sculpture garden. We danced to funky '80s songs like Alaska y Dinarama's "Ni tú ni nadie" and Maná's "Clavado en un bar" (pictures forthcoming!). Most of the group we were with are Latin American, so there was no shortage of rhythm and energy. Toward the end, I started falling asleep on my feet in spite of myself, but we went strong until 6 a.m. (when the metro started up again). It was impressive to see the vast numbers of young folks stumbling into the station with us (and some promptly falling asleep once seated).

Late-night clubbing is not something I'd recommend doing nightly (pricey admission, way-too-smoky, requires time to catch up on zzzzz's, etc.), but at least trying it is an essential part of Madrid culture.

Wire transfer trouble

2007-10-05T21:19:00.000+02:00

Right now I am so made at my bank I could kick the greedy, amorphous entity. I have been attempting for the past 3 weeks now to initiate a wire transfer for A's second tuition installment--which was due 3 weeks ago. Sounds simple enough: call the bank's automated toll-free phone number, free even abroad when you use Skype. Write code on a letter that also specifies routing details and amount. Fax the letter to NY land line at your nearest locutorio, costing 1.50€.

When I sent the fax the first time I had forgotten to sign it, and by the time I faxed it a second time, the special confirmation code had expired (it is only valid for 24 hours). I was aware of this because of the emails I received from the bank indicating the problems with the fax. I called back to get a new code and then sent the fax again. After sitting around for a week and not seeing the money withdrawn from my account, I wondered what was wrong.

The wire transfer department vowed they had never received the third fax. I asked them how they could expect me to know one way or the other unless they emailed me. The fax machine on this end had reported that the fax was received fine, and I verified the fax number was correct.

The kicker was that during the week lapse, the exchange rate for dollars and euros had changed enough against my favor that I would now be paying an extra one or two hundred dollars just to equal the same tuition amount, in euros.

It seems they only contact you if there is a problem, but not automatically to confirm receipt (they ought to). So then the fourth fax attempt, a week ago; it was received but they said I had transposed two digits in the confirmation code. I got a new code, copied it painstakingly and sent the fifth fax last Monday, but I had to wait until Wednesday to call and check on whether it had been received because the wire transfer department is only open 9-5 EST. They said they hadn't received it. Today I sent a sixth fax, and when I called to check on it they said it had not surfaced.

I am wasting money and time on these faxes and I am losing my sanity and even more money as the foreign exchange rate continues on a downward dive. How can these faxes not be received when the number is correct and I double-check that the fax goes through? How come their department is open only M-F, 9-5, when everyone in their customer service call center is actually located in India?

Does any one have any suggestions about alternatives to transfer money to a foreign bank account? The university is not about to pick up cash from a Western Union or other moneygram company, so that is not an option. Right now, I'm planning to do just as they tell me, in their lilting Indian call center accents: "What I can recommend is that you call and get a new confirmation code and send the fax again, and then call us back..." and then hear it wasn't received...rinse...lather...repeat...

Madrid's Olympic miscalculation?

2007-10-02T23:47:00.001+02:00

Anyone else notice the uncanny resemblance between the logo chosen for Madrid's 2016 Olympic Games bid...

and that of the Eat-5-Fruits-and-Veggies-A-Day campaign that I see in Spain on spinach packaging...?

Plus, making the middle finger the brightest color certainly distracts me even more. Although it could be a good thing for Madrid to host the Olympics, that logo definitely counts as a strike against them. Even more puzzling, how come you can only buy plastic-bagged spinach here?

Animation at AniMadrid

2007-10-01T15:33:00.000+02:00

This weekend we watched a some fun short animated films at the AniMadrid festival, which continues for the next week. The 8th annual festival is actually being held outside of Madrid proper in a suburb called Pozuelo de Alarcón. We caught the cercanía train at the nearest stop and 3 stops later (about 20 minutes) got off in the small town. The walk to the Casa de Cultura was around 20 minutes but pleasant; the path is along manicured parks and it was sunset time. We watched a free bunch of cartoons on the theme of toys, ranging from the 1930's to more modern ones. There were quite a lot of racial charicatures in the old ones, including a short called "The Old Plantation." Our favorite short was the 1972 BAFTA-wining Tchou-tchou. Very cute and very inventive Canadian story.

We're planning to return later this week to watch some of the competition entries. I figure we can afford the tickets (3€).

Fire in the night

2007-09-26T15:18:00.000+02:00

Last night at about 4 a.m. we were awoken by the sound of sirens much closer than we were used to (you always hear sirens in the background when you live in a city). Lifting up our persiana curtains, we could see two fire trucks parked on the street below our window, and firefighters milling about. The thing was, there was no fire to be seen. They were investigating a garage door at a building across the street with black soot marks on it, but we never saw any smoke. After watching them for a few minutes and observing nothing more exciting than our nightrobed neighbors poking their heads out their windows, we went back to bed.

Even though nothing happened, it is a little unnerving to think about a fire when you're live in a high-rise.

NIE and libraries

2007-09-25T13:57:00.000+02:00

The continuation of our immigration bureaucratic saga is a rather unimpressive denouement. Surprisingly easy, compared to what we ran up against earlier (which I described in "Evil General Pardiñas" and "More lines in Madrid"). We had our appointment on the 20th back at the Oficina de extranjeros at Plaza Campillo del Mundo. We arrived for our appointment 30 minutes early and were called back immediately after taking a number. We were attended to by the youngest clerk in the room, and she was professional and efficient. When I pointed out two areas of the application I hadn't known how to fill out, she said, "Don't worry. The information is right here in your acceptance letter."

A. was excused to run out and make copies of the visa and entry stamp pages of our passports. I sat quietly as the woman typed our information into her computer until her co-worker piped up to make small talk with me about my position. When it came to checking my acceptance letter against my passport, my clerk asked why my last name didn't match. I explained that I hadn't updated my passport from my maiden name and showed her our apostilled marriage license. Without missing a beat, she made a note in my application to that effect, made a couple of stamps and before we knew it, she was printing out receipts.

What was most revealing about the experience was how the front-room secretary who had given us a hassle the last time we were there interacted with the workers in our room. She came in once every few minutes to ask if someone from such-and-such country could do such-and-such with their passport/visa/whatever. She visibly relished the chance to be given permission to turn someone away or say no. Talk about helpful.

As our cases were wrapped up in brown paper and filed away, our clerk instructed us to pick up our cards at our favorite police station--General Pardiñas--in a month's time. I worriedly asked if we would have to wait in line again, but she said we would only have to show our receipts at the door and supposedly we will be let right in. I'll keep my fingers crossed.

The first thing I set about doing now that I had an NIE (printed on our receipts) was apply for a public library card. Only they didn't care to see my NIE; my passport was sufficient. And to think I'd been missing out on the library all this time! So far we haven't tried to open a resident bank account, but I hope they will accept these receipts if we do try before we get our official "green card" is processed.

As I reflect on the process, yes, it is bureaucratic and frustrating, what with all the physical waiting in line. But having gone through the processing of A's permanent residency and miscellaneous related applications back with U.S. Customs and Immigration, I think I prefer Spain's red tape. Sure, there are no night-long lines to speak of in the U.S. But there is a virtual line that is just as cruel and arbitrary, but even longer, slower, more expensive and laden with forms.

La noche en lluvia

2007-09-24T21:37:00.000+02:00

Strange Fruit's The Field performance is at least available as online video

I so looking forward to participate in Madrid's Noche en Blanco this past weekend, to see some of the more than 175 musical and other performances making up what was billed as an all-night cultural extravaganza. Unfortunately, the whole endeavor failed, in my opinion, due to an unseasonal, unusually strong rainstorm and overcrowding. A. and I got up to the Santiago Bernabéu stadium around 9 p.m. Saturday hoping to see "pole" dancers from the Sydney-based company Strange Fruit, but was canceled due to rain.

We took the (very packed) metro back to the Paseo del Prado area but by then it was pouring. At least we had brought ponchos. Most of the other outdoor acts were cut short or canceled, meaning we missed the tightrope-walking "Les Etoiles" among many other interesting acts. A disappointing night for us and many other madrileños (some of whom waited more than 2 hours to enter indoor museum exhibits). More problems are enumerated in the Madrid press articles here and here. Hopefully the organizers will be able to make some precautionary weather-related adjustments for next year.

My fall fashion fetish

2007-09-21T13:12:00.000+02:00

Classical beauty.

This will probably sound facetious, but I have been obsessed with fashion this past week. First of all, I have had the (beautiful) song from new Corte Inglés commercials for their "Entra en la magia de la moda" campaign for their fall '07 women's collection stuck in my head. You can watch the spot here.

I searched and searched for the song's lyrics using my mad-awesome detective skills (unfortunately my ear for sung French is not very good, so it took some time) and finally found it: The artist is Jane Birkin and the song, "Baby Alone in Babylone," (the version is from Birkin's live Arabesque album, NOT the earlier album of the same name).

Secondly, Spanish news shows have been covering the Pasarela Cibeles week obsessively, and I happened to see a brief shot of some chiffon concoctions that completely captivated me. After some more careful online detective work, I found that they were designed by Spanish bridal designer Elio Berhanyer. I will let the dresses speak for themselves:

Even better, treat yourself to the first 3 minutes (at least) of this video of the parade. What an elegant presentation, with the divine live flamenco ensemble behind the models, fronted by Spanish soprano Paloma Soria. I sure hope these styles get trickled down into affordable clothing stores in the coming season(s). I would just die to have one (or several) dresses like these in my closet.

Gernika--70 years later

2007-09-20T21:59:00.000+02:00

We began our last day in Basque Country by checking out of our lovely casa rural and thanking our hosts, and then walking all the way down the mountain for breakfast. I was better able to appreciate the view of the river and the surrounding meadows on the way downhill.

Our destination that morning was Gernika, a small town accessible by a bus that leaves Bilbao every half hour. Historically, it was the seat of Basque government, but it entered popular consciousness when Franco (with Hitler and Mussolini in cahoots) bombed the civilian population there in 1937. The incident inspired Picasso to paint his famous Guernica, which didn't enter Spain for more than 40 years until Franco's despotic rule was over.

We learned a lot about the history of the painting itself at a special exhibit (related to the 70th anniversary) at the Museo de la Paz in Gernika. We watched at least an hour of an art history documentary related to the painting and its politics. Of course, the painting itself remains safe at the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid. Read up on what this piece of art has gone through and you'll understand why it's not likely to be transported any time soon.

I love the Peace Museum in Gernika. The permanent museum space is dedicated half to the bombing of Gernika and half to the process of peacemaking, with reconciliation between survivors of the bombing and descendents of the German fighter pilots responsible for the deaths as an example. Gernika stands as such a powerful, universal symbol against totalitarian violence, due largely to Picasso's influence, and yet it was also a concrete experience for Basques who lived through the Spanish Civil War. I picked up an informative map of the town that indicates which few buildings survived the bombing unscathed (perhaps 20 percent of the town) and which have had to be totally reconstructed.

I was sobered to read a plaque stating the estimated civilian loss of life in Dresden, Germany (at 30,000) when experts place the Gernika numbers at around 250. I shall have to visit historical sites in Dresden when I visit Germany. Despite all the good intention of the Peace Museum, I get angry and frustrated to think of the genocide and injustice that continues today in other lands. But I won't drift into my international politics now, since the focus here is on a war that is tucked safely into Spain's past.

Our next stop was the Casa de Juntas, where a Basque parliament met historically (the autonomous government currently meets in Vitoria-Gasteiz). I proudly spoke my limited Basque with one of the grounds curators as A. tried to capture the grandeur of the stained glass ceiling through photography. Outside the building is the famous Oak of Gernika, or at least part of the 300-year-old trunk of the previous tree, beside which a new tree grows.

We returned to Bilbao and needed to eat something, but because of the hour, the only thing we could find was an American-Western-themed grill called "Boys" with John Wayne photos on one wall and Latino music videos blaring on another. The meal wasn't bad, but it certainly lacked Basque authenticity. The best part of it was our dessert: the great Alacant brand of ice cream.

Later, we enjoyed wandering through the old casco viejo of the city and observing everyday Bilbao citizens (and their pet dogs) going about. Bilbao would be a very nice place to live, we concluded. We reflected on how kind the Basque people had been to us during our travels (from metro behavior to store clerks). Not to demean madrileños or any other Spaniards, but the Basques are so nice. Eskerrik asko.

We departed from the main train station, with its awesome stained glass window, weary from carrying our packs around all day (remember: no consignas in Basque Country). I can't say that I slept well on the train ride home, since there weren't any couchettes. But over the next two days I had ample time to rest at home as A. took care of me, and I soon recovered from whatever was ailing me.

We hope we can return to Basque country in the future months. If you have any suggestions for us for things we should do or see or if you know someone who lives there that we could meet up with, we'd be happy to hear from you.

Inside the Bilbao train station

Bilbao/Bilbo (Baggins?)

2007-09-20T21:07:00.000+02:00

I woke up in San Sebastián feeling sore but I passed it off as stemming from the walking and sun from the day before. But after a serpentine hour-long bus trip to Bilbao, I lost my cookies. I don't know if I picked up a bug somewhere or ate something off, but I am pretty sure I didn't contract meningitis or any other serious disease. Still, I felt weak and sick to my stomach enough that it put a damper on Bilbao, or Bilbo, as it is called in Basque. (Speaking of good food under other circumstances, though, there's an excellent bakery inside a gourmet grocery store called Don Serapio, which is at Calle Sancho el Sabio 22, near the bus station in San Sebastián).

We had reserved a double room for 35€ at an agroturismo casa rural in Bilbao, curious about how these accommodations would be compared to the windowless hostel rooms we had been paying 40€ for. When we called the house managers, they assured us we would have nearby public transportation, since they were only 1 km away from a metro stop. What they neglected to mention is that it was a kilometer straight uphill.
Now, the accommodations were lovely, and the views remarkable (see picture above), but I was not in the best shape to be chugging up the mountain with my backpack. We took a few wrong turns on the way up, which complicated matters, so I was very grateful to see our quaint room. I would recommend the casa rural experience to everyone. Obviously it's easier if you have your own car to get around, but it is still possible to stay in a casa rural in various Spanish provinces that is located within a metropolitan zone that has fairly good public transportation. In our case, we found that a bus to central Bilbao passed by within a block of the house.

After a quick shower (with the most reliable heated water I've experienced yet in Spain, my apartment included), we were off to the city. Our first stop was the Museo Vasco, which has many ethnographic and archaeological exhibits pertaining to Basque culture and history. There was a lot to digest, but some of the lessons we took home had to do with traditional Basque sports, religion, and fishing techniques.

We were also lucky to catch a special 70th anniversary exhibit on Gernika. It included historical film footage of the bombing and its aftermath and a tapestry version of Picasso's Guernica. Next we checked out the Guggenheim, with all its quirky architecture and modern art...I recommend the documentary Sketches of Frank Gehry if you have the time. Still, this museum is getting more and more expensive, which concerns me.

I have to admit I repented many times for having brought an old edition of my guidebook, LP. It was outdated on many basic points for Bilbao, understandable considering the ever-growing city that it is. It's my fault for not buying at least the guide with 2006-current info. Additionally, one of the city tourist information offices had moved from the address we had and the other was closed when we got there. Luckily, we were able to call a hotline and get information on transportation options to Gernika for the following day.

Souvenirs from the city:

Kukuxumusu postcards depicting Basque culture
small flag of Euskal Herria
t-shirt with four ancient Basque runes
wooden box with Basque symbol of the four elements
glass with Guggenheim sketch design

San Sebastián--sculpture and sea

2007-09-20T20:21:00.000+02:00

The RENFE train ride from Barcelona was infinitely better than our bus experience. For an overnight ride just as long as that between Madrid and Barcelona, the difference between being able to lay down (in a couchette, or litera, as they are called) and being upright is amazing.

San Sebastián (or Donostia, as it's known in Basque) is one of my all-time favorite destinations in Spain. I was especially looking forward to visiting the Basque Country (Euskal Herria in Basque) after having taken a beginning course in the Basque language--Euskara--this past summer. Bai, bai. (Even Viggo Mortensen has learned to speak a little, to the delight of the opening night audience at the San Sebastián film festival...too bad we aren't there now to enjoy it.

Unfortunately, the Basque Country is quite well known for a small group of political extremists and even some incidences of terrorism. This image makes many Spaniards and others afraid to visit the area or to reach out to Basques. My experience, though, is that the people and the country are placid and welcoming. I have never felt unsafe there; in fact, after being anxious the whole two days in Barcelona that I would be a pickpocket target (having had my backpack stolen last time I was there) it was a relief to feel genuinely safe on the streets here in this friendly beach town. [UPDATE: I highly recommend you read this post, written by friends of mine who are temporarily based in Spain who are also responsible for first introducing me to the Basque Country. They explain more about the Basques' history and culture.]

For some reason (probably related more to fear than actual threat), the luggage lockers at all public transportation facilities had been placed out of commission a few months back, in San Sebastián train and bus stations and in Bilbao as well. The security risk could be adequately resolved with X-ray equipment and guards (as in Barcelona's Estació Sants). At any rate, our mobility was severely hampered by this development. We are strong proponents of storing your backpack away during the day while you travel to different sites--good for your back health and good for helping you blend in.

Our first stop...after finding a hostel to drop off our backpacks and eating breakfast by where the sea meets the river...was the Chillida-Leku museum, a leisurely outdoor installation of sculptures by the Basque artist Eduardo Chillida. It's 10 minutes outside the city, but easily accessible by the G2 bus. We took the bus back to the Concha beach, walking past sunbathers to the famous Chillida sculpture El Peine del Viento (Wind Comb), which he installed on an outcrop of rocks by the sea. The artwork's 30th anniversary was celebrated this past month.

It's a piece best appreciated on stormy days when the wind and waves get going, producing a musical howl. On this visit, it was cloudless but still photo-worthy. We walked from there several kilometers along the beach to another outdoor sculpture, this one by Jorge Oteiza. The walk was invigorating and the views of the bay spectacular. On our way, we encountered a blue Serveta scooter. Later, we visited three churches, all very nice. Unfortunately, my favorite museum, San Telmo, is closed for repairs. We did catch a great Gargallo temporary exhibit at the Kursaal performance hall though. His homage to Chagall:

That night we went out for pintxos (as tapas are known in Basque country) in the old part (parte vieja or alde zaharra) of the city. The first stop, Bar Aralar, was one I had read about in my guidebook. It turned out to be yummy but very expensive. Our second stop was a nondescript marisquería where we had mejillones tigres (mussels in marinara sauce) and fried calamari. The third place was by far our favorite, not for the fanciness of the food, but because the proprietress was so inviting. It's a place called Bar Narrica, located on Calle Narrica, and it's known for its sandwiches. If it hadn't been closed for vacations, Casa Alcalde would certainly have been worth a visit for its cuisine and outgoing chef.

All in all, San Sebastián was a relaxing and rejuvenating stop on the road, and I would recommend any traveler to Spain stop there.

Souvenirs from the city:

6 Chillida prints

Barcelona (with Spanish, Catalán and Swedish music)

2007-09-20T19:09:00.000+02:00

Last week, we got back from a trip to Barcelona and Basque country--fabulous parts of Spain if you ever have to opportunity to travel there. Here's a recap of our experiences:

To begin with, we would strongly warn against taking a cheap long bus ride if you are taller than 5 feet 8 inches. It is a false economy! After a tortuous overnight 7-hour ride from Madrid to Barcelona spent with constant pressue against our knees, we decided we should have taken the train or paid more for the next grade of bus. Measuring in at 6 feet 3 inches, A. had it worse than me, but I (5 feet 11 inches) still felt too cramped to be comfortable.

That, and the two drunk and talkative men on the bus made for a mostly sleepless night. We happily got off at the Estació Sants (one stop earlier than the main bus depot at Estació Nord). From this clean train and bus station, we bought two two-day metro abonos and were emerging at the Liceu stop on the famous Rambla street at around 8 a.m. Spending just 4€ at the bustling Mercat La Boquería, we had ourselves a delicious breakfast of fruit, bread and cheese to start off the day. We ate it in the pleasant Plaça Reial, where, we later learned, Antoni Gaudí designed the lamp posts.We kicked off our sightseeing for the day at the Sagrada Familia cathedral, and boy is it worth getting there as soon as it opens before the place is overrun with group tours! The less people, the more peacefully you can enjoy the innovative edifice. It is certainly worth climbing or taking an elevator to the top of a tower (word to the wise: there are at least two, and the one on the Nativity façade side was clear of lines at 10 a.m. even as the other one had a line about 100 people deep and growing). From up top, you can enjoy views of the city, the current construction efforts and then the dizzying descent done narrow spiral stairs.

Will the Sagrada Familia ever be finished? Hopefully some day it will, and I will be able to say that I contributed through my admission ticket. I learned more on this trip about the building history than I had on my first visit to Barcelona, thanks very much to the worthy documentary video in the museum in the basement of the Sagrada Familia (shown in Spanish and English on a rotating basis). Also, I learned tons about this and other Gaudí works at the Espai Gaudí in La Pedrera (which we visited the following day).

Our next stop was the Museu Picasso, and it was crowded, but still a worthwhile spot. Nearby, we encountered the Museu de la Xocolata. We figured it was a better investment to patronize their café rather than pay tickets to see the chocolate sculptures. Money well spent. I consider their thick hot chocolate the best in all of Spain and recommend sampling it as an imperative part of any Barcelona itinerary. We ended up buying a package of the cocoa to make at home.

After walking around a while, A. stated adamantly that we were mistaken in choosing Madrid as our home--since Barcelona has a far cooler vibe. I maintain that he still hasn't seen enough of Madrid to judge properly, but I admit, Barcelona is a very cool city. As a case in point, we found in Barcelona our first Serveta and several awesome Vespas (see pix). We are vintage scooter aficionados, but until we can afford to actually collect them, we have begun collecting photos of them from our travels. (In Spain, the normal Italian Vespa and Lambretta brands were manufactured as MotoVespa and Serveta).

Walking down the street St. Jaume in Barri Goti, we were approached by a young Spanish tout about a concert that night. Despite his terrible English and our reluctance to trust activities targeted at tourists, we went to the Palau de la Música Catalana to check it out. We had wanted to visit this modernist jewel anyways, and since the cost of a guided building tour was 8€, we felt it was worth paying 12€ for the cheapest tickets to the Spanish guitar concert that night.

After a siesta and shower at our pension, we put on our most respectable clothes and returned for the 9 p.m. concert (I had packed a dress but I had only my bulky black hiking shoes to go with them...not pretty). It turned out to be a great experience--both musically and visually stimulating. We were treated to a performance of excerpts from "Concierto de Aranjuez" by Joaquín Rodrigo, "Recuerdos de La Alhambra," and other Spanish guitar classics by maestro Manuel González. It was a real treat. Besides his expert execution of the music, we enjoyed the gorgeous carousel-like music hall, decorated with colorful mosaics and this incredible art nouveau stained glass ceiling. A truly beautiful night.On our second day in Barcelona, we went to watch local Catalanes dance the circular sardana dance. For it, they gather in the plaza by the cathedral daily and are accompanied by a wind band. Most dancers wear espadrille shoes; the steps aren't fancy but it was still fun to watch the young and old Barcelonans dancing side by side.

We picnicked croissants in Parc Güell, a fantastic park constructed by Gaudí and now a great place to spend the afternoon. The park was initially supposed to be a private residential and commercial area for a few privileged families, but it was never finished. I'm glad the project fell through in the end, because now the public can enjoy this whimsical area. My favorite part is the snaking mosaicked bench (see picture below).

Finally, we went to two houses by Gaudí: Casa Battlló and La Pedrera. Unfortunately, we could not afford the entry fee to the interesting-looking Casa Battlló; 16€ each was much too hefty for our budget. Luckily, we more than got our money's worth at La Pedrera. For a reduced student price of 4.50€ each, we toured two floors and the roof of this amazing building, all the while with an informative audioguide (included in the price).

The first floor is outfitted like a residence of the 1920s, including some ergonomic furniture designed by Gaudí. There's an art store there devoted totally to art nouveau--I would buy every book, scarf and poster in it if I could. Loved it. The second floor is the Espai Gaudí, a very well designed multimedia exhibit that goes over all of Gaudí's major works with video of the interiors of even Casa Battlló (take that, moneymongers!) and of at least 10 lesser-visited buildings. Finally, the roof has fantastic sculptures on it that remind me of Roman soldiers.

Our final find in Barcelona were xocolate-covered xurros at a small xurrería at Calle Banys Nous 7. We ate them as we ambled back down La Rambla, passing the ever varying human sculptures one last time before getting on our overnight train to San Sebastián.

I just have to mention a fun musical group that totally captures the spirit of Barcelona: they are called I'm From Barcelona and they are actually...not. They are Swedish and there are 29 of them. Listen here at NPR.

Souvenirs from the city:

glass with Picasso toro design
postcards of vintage Spanish adverts
handpainted mosaic box
magnet of Parc Güell's emblematic dragon
poster of Las Ramblas

Skype great for toll-free calls from overseas

2007-09-19T17:16:00.000+02:00

After burning though all the minutes on my latest international calling card, I discovered the marvelous fact that you can use Skype to call toll-free numbers in the US, UK, France and Poland for free! I already love the service because of how it helps me keep in touch (affordably) with friends and family back home, but this latest discovery sweetens the deal. Here are the prefixes Skype currently supports for free for all users:

France: +33 800, +33 805, +33 809
Poland: +48 800
UK: +44 500, +44 800, +44 808
USA: +1 800, +1 866, +1 877, +1 888

This greatly simplifies matters, because otherwise if you are outside the US and need to call a customer service hotline (say for banking or making warranty claims, as is the case for me), you have to go through the laborious process of finding out their non-toll-free landline number and then paying to make the call. I'm glad I won't have to waste extra time and money using my calling card anymore. Yet another reason to love VOIP. I'm still not smiling about being on hold, though.

Concussion junction

2007-09-07T21:10:00.000+02:00

Tuesday we planned to go to Getafe in the morning and see some sights in Madrid later. We were on our way to catch the interurbano bus that has a stop off the highway, walking at a brisk clip, when I ran smack-dab into a concrete pedestrian walkway and hit the top of my head. Very hard. Maybe it had something to do with avoiding the bright sun. For the first few seconds I was still insisting we continue on our journey. I think A. was crying more than me at first. But then the pain caught up with me and I realized I would listen to A. and go home.

He put prepared some ice for me and I watched Spanish Wheel of Fortune for about an hour. I fared all right on the word puzzles. A. quizzed me periodically about my address and eventually felt confident I wasn't suffering memory loss or other symptoms of a more serious injury. My noggin was awfully tender but it was actually my left index-finger joint that really bothered me (must have hit it on the ground when I fell). I couldn't type comforably for the past two days because it. But the bump on my head has gone down at least.

It's time's like these I wish I weren't tall and easily distracted.

Holy Toledo!

2007-09-07T21:05:00.000+02:00

Toledo is a lovely city where medeival Christians, Jews, and Muslims lived in harmony for many years and we are the benficiaries of their shared history. It's also the home of El Greco. A. and I set out to visit it this Saturday.

We took a direct one-hour bus from Madrid at 4.40€ per person each way, arriving at 1 p.m. Our first stop after climbing the hill from the bus depot was the well preserved Puerta del Sol (see picture). We climbed some more and seemingly having arrived at the summit of Toledo, stopped to catch our breath at the Plaza of Zocodóver, anciently a Muslim marketplace, and currently the center of town and tourist activity.

I was anxious to show A. the newly built Army Museum, integrated into the city's Alcázar fortress, but unfortunately the construction hasn't finished. So we went to what is probably the main attraction of the town, the Iglesia de Santo Tomé, which houses El Greco's Burial of Count Orgaz. Afterward, A. breathed, "I don't need to see anything else after that." (By way of trivia, Toledo is the setting for an excellent Spanish film that speaks against domestic violence, Te Doy Mis Ojos. The main protagonist plays a guard at Santo Tomé.)

Next, we decided to hit the Jewish quarter, which is my perennial favorite bunch of city monuments. We meandered through the simulated medieval marketplace, with its Sephardic music, and then entered the Sinagoga del Tránsito. This is a gorgeously restored synagogue with intricate Hebrew and Arabic carving on the walls.

You enter the Museo Sefardí directly from the synagogue, where there are many informative exhibits about Jews in Spain. My favorite part is the garden with gravestones and translations of the inscriptions. The other Toledan synagogue is the Sinagoga María la Blanca (see picture). It is such a serene and transcendent experience to stand among its white columns (just ignore the garish Christian retablo added to the front).

We planned to see the El Greco House-Museum next but it is currently closed for refurbishing through the end of 2007 (another trip, perhaps). We went to the nearby Victorio Macho museum, but it only has a handful of El Grecos on display temporarily during the closure. I was particularly disappointed to not see more of my favorite "caballero" portraits. They are so visceral in real life!

We got a little lost through side streets searching for the Cristo de la Luz Mosque, only to find it right next to the Puerta del Sol by which we had entered. It is undergoing archaeological excavations right now but is open to the public. By the way, the original name was not Christian, but it was changed when the Christians kicked out its former worshipers to transform the edifice into a church. Unfortunately, the second mosque in the city is not open Saturdays.

I dissuaded A. from going into the cathedral, telling him he'd see plenty more (I am not a big fan of cathedrals). But we did poke our heads inside the cloisters area to watch a very frou-frou wedding party (everyone arrived in Audis, BMWs and Givenchy eveningwear). This was only the first wedding we would run into that afternoon.

In our search for the misnamed Plaza Mayor, we encountered a little gem we had been searching for: the Pozo Amargo. According to Toledan legend, the bitter well got its name from a young Jewish woman who supposedly cried out all her tears there over her father's murder of her Christian lover. It is a few meters down a very narrow street that cars still muster the guts to drive through.

From there we followed the stiletto heels to another wedding in another church, this time with a choir! When we were done spying on them, we walked around that area and bumped into the Toledo School of Translators. I would totally go there for my master's (if my language pair were Spanish and Arabic or Hebrew)!

We went in search for a souvenir box (I collect boxes) and found even the smallest gold or silver inlaid box prohibitively expensive. Then we looked at the prices of marzipan and were equally shocked at the prices. So we bought just two pieces. They were delish!
After walking back down the hill toward the bus station, we were thirsty and stopped for some excellent refreshment at one of the summer-operating terrazas within view of the Puerta de Bisagra. Their ice-cold horchata de chufa and limón granizado is to die for!

Back in Madrid, we enjoyed a night of tapas. All the places we hit were standouts:

Casa del Abuelo
Specialty-gambas al ajillo or a la plancha

Las Bravas
Specialty-patatas bravas

La Malaspina
Specialty-"malaspina" (generous portion of toast topped with jamón serrano, melted cheese and oregano, and dressed with olive oil)

It was a wonderful day. Our feet were tired but our tummies full, and we had seen many things in Toledo. Next time, we'll hopefully see what wasn't open today.

Note: We paid reduced student admission that was 1.40€ at each attraction.

More lines in Madrid

2007-09-07T20:14:00.000+02:00

(Tuesday, NIE quest, cont'd.) Since none of the phone numbers listed were working, we decided to stop by the Foreigners' Office in person. For whatever reason, the sign on the door says "Ministerio de economía y hacienda" not "Oficina de extranjeros" and I'm pretty sure the latter does not fall under the former hierarchically. When we arrive, we were pleased to find that not only was there no line, but there was actually a worker there to answer our questions.

Turns out, though, this employee must be very low on the totem pole and she has a hefty inferiority complex related to her peers with actual authority. So when I said, "I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to check the box for a resident card or a student card," she responded, meanly, "What do you mean? You don't even know what you're applying for?" Then she chastised me for already having paid the fee for the application. The security guard piped up from her shoulder to say that we would need to pay it anyways eventually.

When we told her we couldn't get through to any of the numbers listed for setting appointments, she just repeated that there were three numbers we could call (these are certifiably disconnected though). She advised us that the only other way to be seen would be to return in the morning, because the first 60 people in line at 9 a.m. would be given appointments for a later date. "But people tend to line up much earlier," she emphasized.

Not having much to go on other than our experience at General Pardiñas, we returned home, napped a little, and at 2 a.m. woke up. We walked around a mile uphill to the plaza and at 3 a.m. found ourselves alone with two (that's right--2) other people. We settled down to finish Harry Potter. By 5 we had finished the book (wonderfully voiced by Jim Dale) and there was nothing to keep me from dozing off...except for the chilly morning air.

People gradually started lining up, and I lost track of the number when the line rounded a corner. I started getting nervous just before they started handing out numbers because there were people crowding up by the entrance (either to read the signs or perhaps with the intention to cut) but me and my camping buddies up at the front defended our positions. Inside someone who gave us forms (for the prórroga de estancia para investigación y estudios) and set an appointment for us to return Sept. 20. Presumably we will receive our coveted NIEs at that time.

I later found both the correct address and the correct form I needed on the Ministry of the Interior. 's web site, although it is not clear whether this is a recent change or not. When I got home, I also saw I had received an e-mail from my bosses at the Ministry of Education indicating they are paving the way for me and my fellow program participants' paperwork processing and will give further instructions at our first meeting in October. (I think I'll keep my appointment for now.)

Moral of the story: Don't trust the mir.es website if you're unfamiliar with its organization. Don't trust the lady at the bank who may not know your immigration situation. And look for small signs posted outside of public buildings (they may have just the updated information you need). Trust me, because I have experienced it, if every future North American Language and Culture Assistant assigned to Madrid read my blog, they would save themselves a lot of time and headaches. (Then again, the processing procedures may change in a a few months' time, so take my advice with a grain of salt...it's conditional on so many capricious factors.)

I would recommend if you need to wait in line at this Oficina de extranjeros, 5 a.m. is plenty early enough, and based on my experience, if you arrive even until 6:30 you'll probably still number among the first 60. (This is based on when their office hours were 9-2 M-F and they should be 9-5 M-Th, 9-2 F starting September. Then again, there will be many more students trying to get an appointment in September when the semester starts.)

At the end of these two days, we were, understandably, pooped. Spent a couple days recovering, reading...watching episodes of Flight of the Conchords our friends had recorded for us before we left (love love love it!) Listen to the genius duo perform at NPR here. Better yet, watch their trademark deadpan delivery in their show when the first season comes out on DVD.

To be continued....

Evil General Pardiñas

2007-09-07T19:24:00.000+02:00

I don't know who General Pardiñas was in real life but it would seem fitting that he was an exceptionally and arbitrarily cruel man. That is because on the street named after him there is an eternal line of immigrants waiting to be attended to by the police station that has been entrusted with the sublime bureaucratic privilege of reviewing applications for immigrant identification cards (as well as naturalization applications from Romanians and Bulgarians).

We thought we were supposed to be among the numberless throngs (truthfully there were upwards of 1,000 people) stationed outside the police station last Tuesday morning. After all, the Spanish consulate that processed our student visas told us it was important for us to take our visa application paperwork to the local police office to get it extended beyond the 3 months they could grant us. And the interior ministry's site lists the General Pardiñas address as the Madrid location for processing tarjetas de residencia and NIEs and that's where the lady at the bank directed us too. What follows is the bumbling heroes' quest to stand in that line.

The line that stretches into infinity. (Photo credit: Jorge París)

We had heard the crowds were bad but we didn't know how bad until Monday when we passed by at around 10:30 a.m. to survey the situation. There were hundreds of people frozen in line back to Bar Dickens. We decided to get up the next day at 5 and catch the metro when it opened at 6, hoping we could thereby improve our position in line. I guessed we would probably be among the first 50.

How naïve. When we arrived at 6:30 a.m., there were already as many people in line as there had been the day before at 10:30. We lined up a little behind Bar Dickens. There was a remarkable number of police officers outside in the dark morning, and for the next three hours they busied themselves commanding the line to stretch out and then allowing it to condense back up (I am convinced the line never actually advanced, only morphed forward and backwards).

Throughout all this, we were fairly unfazed, transported, as we were, to the world of Harry Potter as we listened to the 7th installment on audiobook together on our ipod. But around 10 a.m. we had luck enough to flag down a police officer handing out forms (though he refused to answer any questions). We snagged two copies what we presumed to be the correct form, figuring if we could fill it out and have everything ready by our turn, we might not have to return a second time. We had planned to wait in line that first day only to get the necessary paperwork, and then return later to turn it back in, because that is what we were told to expect by a policewoman we asked on Monday.

A. left to get all of our documents from home (letters from the university, doctors' letters, forms ascertaining that we had no criminal records in Provo, UT). He also made the payment indicated (6.70€ for each form) at a bank while he was out.

I, meanwhile, stood patiently in line, and since I was no longer listening to the audiobook, I was uncomfortably aware of how much smoke was being inhaled and exhaled around me. I also realized everyone was speaking Romanian, and that 3 people in front of me since 6:30 had magically transformed into 20 (the appearance of other family members reminded me of a not-so-different situation waiting in line the night before Black Friday back home).

If chain-smoking was the sole requirement to be a true Spaniard, these people should have gotten their naturalization approved on the spot. I was super uncomfortable and thinking of just how I would phrase my letter to the Guardía Civil about how asthmatics shouldn't be obliged to endure so much second-hand smoke when A. came back.

By this point, it was around 1:30 p.m. and we had been waiting around seven hours. In the three hours A. was gone, I had not seen the first 10 people at the head of the line move at all. I had "advanced" (or squished forward) far enough to be very close distance-wise, though not position-wise (the line continued to switchback) to the front entrance to the police station. I could, for the first time, make out a sign the size of a single piece of paper. AVISO, it read, "EU citizens, with the exception of Romanians and Bulgarians, and their family members, and students will be attended at Plaza Campillo del Mundo Nuevo, 3."

Three phone numbers were listed on the notice for setting appointments. As I stood there plugging them into my cell phone, a security guard approached me and said, "From the looks of it, I can tell you're a student" ("Por la pinta que tienes" is the phrase he used). Duh! How come nobody realized I didn't look Romanian or Bulgarian earlier (I was practically the only non-smoker among the immigrants and police officers!) How come nobody had pointed out and how come I myself hadn't noticed this tiny poster? Seven hours wasted. Boy did I feel stupid. We left the line wondering if we would have been seen that day or even the next, had we steeled ourselves to spend the night in line.

We have since read news stories related to the Romanians' and Bulgarians' plight. Romania and Bulgaria entered the EU at the beginning of 2007.

Piso Search: Epilogue

2007-09-03T16:22:00.000+02:00

To recap, our piso search of the last week was beset with many obstacles and fraught with disappointment but in the end we encountered a great piso with a wonderful landlady named Luisa. To further illustrate Luisa's kindness, here are some of the things that she has done/said in the days since we moved in:

-she apologized for not having a meal ready for us on the day we moved in
-she offered to check out items for us on her library card
-she brought us back fresh watermelon and figs from her parents' house in Extremadura.

Not to begrudge madrileños or anything, but I could tell there was something different about Luisa, and it turns out, although she's lived here for some 30 years, she's actually from the Extremadura province.

On Saturday morning, as we stood outside the apartment building waiting to be buzzed in and get our key from Luisa, we were both wondering if maybe we had been hoodwinked. On Friday, we had given our deposit and while we had retained a handwritten contract from Luisa, we were thinking it had been too good to be true. When the person who answered the bell didn't let us in, A. and I thought we had been hung out to dry.

What really had happened was that it was just a handyman who answered, but soon enough Luisa's mother came out by coincidence and let us in. (The handyman was fixing the broken door frame to our bedroom, which Luisa had promised to get repaired and duly followed through on). We got our keys and left to go get our things from the airport.

We took the metro up to the airport but mistakenly got off at Terminal 4 (which we wished had been our terminal: very nice and brand-new). We took a free airport bus back around until we recognized our terminal (#2). There, the ratty old consigna guards charged us for 5 days of storage, even though we'd already paid one day upfront. After finding an ATM and then hauling the 5 pieces up the stairs, we got rolling on two luggage carts. We were able to take the carts all the way to the metro entrance (a few miles away, it seemed, but still within the airport). Then the fun began.

The metro entrance is accommodating enough for passengers with one piece of wheeled luggage, as it has been designed with the automatic door-type gates rather than the push-through theme-park-type ones. However, they aren't wide enough for two large suitcases pulled side-by-side. The solution is to have someone (like the guard) hold the doors open for you while you awkwardly turn one suitcase around and push it ahead of you while dragging the other behind.

This scene repeated itself with some variation as we mounted and dismounted elevators and metro cars a total of 12 times. I had seen a woman with a suitcase with four multidirectional wheels on our way to the airport and I made a mental note that the next luggage I bought would be like that. These make so much sense: if stroller wheels can be designed that way, why can't luggage wheels too? (I may do a future post on my preference for Spanish-style strollers and the many varieties thereof). It seems the term for this feature is "spinner" and here are two nice-looking bags that have it: one TravelPro and one Samsonite.

Of course, I didn't realize just how soon we would have to be shopping for new luggage. All we really needed at the moment was a pair of functioning in-line wheels on each piece. Suddenly, the large suitcase A. was hauling (which already had been compromised with a tear en route) gave out entirely on one side (see exhibit). This oversized monster was given to us by Delta after we filed a claim for another suitcase that was damaged in transit. Since this one died on its first-ever use, I doubt I will even try to make the effort to file another claim with either Delta or the airline we came to Spain on. Poor A. though. He hobbled along with two suitcases, one of which was now totally un-rollable, cursing it all the way.

After the metro ordeal we caught a taxi to take us the several blocks back to our place and tipped the driver well (still only 5€ total). And thank goodness for our building's elevator, in all its 70s green glory. After another two hours unpacking, we were finally going to take our first Spanish siesta (truth be told, A. zonked out shortly after arriving and I finished up the unpacking, but that was fine after his struggle with the gimpy suitcase). (And his having packed all of the suitcases to begin with, TWICE, he reminds me ever so kindly, pressing an ice-cold water bottle to my skin).

Later that afternoon, we did some grocery and household item shopping and in the evening we took a stroll down our street, peering into bar windows at the television screens broadcasting the first game of the season between Atlético de Madrid and Real Madrid soccer/football teams . We adopted our neighbors' preference and rooted for the Atlético. Finally we felt at home.

Make time for Manda Bala

2007-09-02T17:22:00.000+02:00

Nothing says Brazil like frogs, corruption, and extortion. Why do I say this? Watch this movie and you will understand. I saw the film Manda Bala at Sundance and it is everything the poster claims it is.I just saw today that Manda Bala is being released in the US (albeit on a small scale for such a great movie). Watch the trailer, and then see if you can get to one of the screenings. Go see this movie! It is so worth it!

Piso Search: DAY 4

2007-08-31T13:31:00.000+02:00

We roused Friday in our hostal feeling glum. We had come so close yesterday to resolving this issue, only to decide to keep forging ahead. I felt like I wanted to give up. I was tired and depressed, and did I mention I had broken out in eczema on my arms during our sweaty move in Phoenix a few days before we came to Spain? I couldn't bend my arms or wear long sleeves without getting seriously irritated. But I hadn't rationalized time to stop by a pharmacy and take care of it.

We weren't running low on money, per se, but I was becoming worried about what would happen if we went on like this, spending like tourists (but not living like them). We were definitely spending more than your average locals on metro tickets and phone minutes with all our work. I plopped down into our now-familiar "home" metro stop, saying out loud with exasperation, "I just want to visit a museum!"

Our first appointment was in Delicias, a pretty far ways out from the city center. We arrived early for our appointment, which was good, considering we had to walk about half a mile downhill to reach the apartment in question. Once outside, I called the owner. "You're there now? Diez y media? No, I said seis y media." Convinced the error was intentional so she could give the apartment to someone else, we moved uphill and onward.

Our next appointment wasn't until 12, but we were happy to have extra time. We had decided that our best bet would be if we were the first person to see an apartment, we could act fast and seal the deal before our competition. And Aurora did call this morning, to inform us someone else had given the señal and to wish us luck in our search.

We walked out of Gran Vía metro along Fuencarral, where the apartment was located, spying evidence of last night's revelry in the recently sprayed road and the groggy faces of the passers-by. The building where we ended up was right across the street from a trendy clothing store blasting out house music as though it had been doing so all night long.

While I was a little concerned about the neighborhood's noise levels, I thought the building looked very upstanding for the 420€ they were asking. A little older, a little shabby, a hostel on the second floor, and the offices of "Chocolate" (not sure what kind of business that is) on the third. Our apartment was supposed to be on the fourth floor, so even though we were very early, we sneaked up to take peak. It looked like the right place.

A. and I discussed our tactical approach to convincing the guy we wanted in the place. I made him call again to make sure I had gotten the address right. I asked him how bad it would have to be for him not to say yes. "At this point, anything's fine," he said.

Sure enough, the property manager Anselmo came by at five-till and we followed him up the stairs. He walked through one door and then unlocked another and we were standing in what we thought would be our new home. Small, yes. Quaint was what we were thinking. Only a hotplate, no stove. Only a mini-futon with a mattress flimsier even than what we used to have, if you can imagine. But it was quiet, no street noise from its interior placement. And it was only 420€ a month.

"We'll take it," we told him. The mousy man listened patiently as we explained our situation and told us he didn't think our financial documentation should be any problem at all. He just told us to make a copy of all the pertinent papers and bring them along with the señal. Now, what was a senal? It was bringing a part of the deposit money, say 200€, and letting that serve as a sign you were ready to commit to a contract.

We told him we were ready, to just let us get the señal ready. He said he would continue to show the apartment. That struck us as odd, but perhaps it was a directive from the landlady. I made sure it was clear: we are planning to sign the contract with you, so save this for us. "Certainly," he said. "I'll call you around mediodía." Odd, it was already midday or noon.

We left and made our copies straightaway. At the same time, I checked my e-mail and found a curious reply to a generic query I had sent to an idealista.com listing. I can't be sure whether it was for real or a sort of wired money scam, with all its terrible punctuation/grammar, but either way I got a real kick out of it. Who really talks about going on "a Crusade" to West Africa, anyways? Well, the good reverend did. I especially like question number 10 on his tenant application: "What is your religion? Are you born again?"

We went to a spacious basement apartment at 2 p.m. in the Barrio Salamanca, which was notable because it was very much within our reach financially at 499€ and in every other way beyond our reach. The landlord required the renter to already own property in Spain, which squarely ruled us out. Oh, and then there was an older woman who tried to butt in front of us (we had arrived second in line to see the place) arguing she had been waiting there since 11:30, but had left to get some lunch. How do you say "Oh no you didn't!" in Spanish?

We planned to go to another appointment at 5. A. reminded me that we had nothing sure yet with Mr. Gran Vía. Now, the appointment was to see a studio located nearby to where we were staying, in Noviciado. It was a wonder we even found it to begin with, since A. had only left a message about the ad a few days ago, and the son had called back when he was back from vacation to see if we were still interested.

We showed up in front of number 12, but a woman came out and showed us to 19. "You're here for the piso?" she asked. "My son put down 16 by accident in the ad instead of 19. Follow me." Who knows how we'd gotten 12 in our heads. Luisa showed us into a smaller building to a ground-floor studio with blue and white tiling. But she was hardly focused on the surroundings there, asking us if her son had mentioned an habitación she was renting that she knew would be just perfect for us.

She went on about how she had a nice big habitación in a shared apartment with a brand-new queen-sized bed. She told us all utilities, unlimited local calls from the landline, and an ADSL internet connection were included in the price: 500€ for both. We told her we were interested, yes, and could we see it later?

She said yes, promising to call us as soon as she was done showing the studio. She gave us directions and we were off. We felt good riding the metro along the green line to Marqués Vadillo. Once there, I called up Anselmo, having not heard from him as promised. "It's J and A, and we have the señal ready." "Oh, you're the American, right? Well, there's someone else interested in the place. I'll call you for sure tonight or tomorrow."

I tried to remind him we had been first and we already had made an agreement, but I knew it was useless. He wouldn't be calling us at all. He would defer to Spaniard applicants if for no other reason than that he couldn't trust us foreigner/student/married people. The prejudice made my blood boil as we walked along the road to the apartment building.

I was in no mood to like the neighborhood we were now examining. "It's OK," I muttered. "But pretty far away from city center, you know. And the metro's not that close. And I really, really am averse to sharing a bathroom. If I have to share a bathroom, I don't think we can live here."

We sat outside by a small playground, observing the high-rise apartment buildings, hotel, highway, and a gathering raincloud. It sprinkled a little, and soon enough, Luisa came. I realized then that the little old lady who I had mistaken for a tenant at the Noviciado studio was actually Luisa's mother. I admired that she was not only coming out with us, but she was also making the extra effort required to bring her aging albeit expert-parchís-playing mother.

Before we even went in, Luisa was going above and beyond her duties. We asked if there was a bus to the Atocha train station. Yes, but why did we want to go there, when there was a direct bus to Getafe right by our house? She trekked out to the stop to show us. We soon realized the good location this was for us: a 15-minute bus ride to Getafe, and a 15-minute ride to Plaza Mayor, with the bus stop literarally right outside our building.

Inside the apartment, I started feeling tingly in spite of myself. The apartment was quite spacious, with wood floors and furniture that reminded me of my stay with a Spanish family in Alcalá during my study abroad.

Our bedroom had plenty of closet space behind four full-length mirrored doors (see picture) and although no view to speak of, an exterior-facing window. And the bed (bought in January) was a delicious Tempur-Pedic mattress.

Yes, we would have to share the kitchen (see picture), the laundry room/patio, the living room (see picture), and even the bathroom (see picture) with two other people. But it didn't seem that bad in comparison to the helpless homeless situation we were in (and at any rate I knew people would be waiting for me to leave the bathroom far more than I would be waiting on them). I felt calm acceptance come to me, and I swallowed my pride. A. and I looked at each other and we knew. This would be "home."

The truth is, Luisa is just the exact kind of human being you hope to encounter when in a new country. She asks us constantly if we feel comfortable and how she can help out. She works across the river teaching special ed. at a school, and has already given me tips for navigating the Spanish school system.

When it came time for us to sign a contract, she didn't ask to see proof of my scholarship, our bank statements, anything we had needed to show to others. She told us, "I trust people." I asked if she wanted the rent on the first of each month. "Yeah, whenever you can make it." Really maja.

We paid her the deposit right then and there and made plans to return the next day with our belongings and her with our key. A. and I took the bus back to Plaza Mayor and as we walked about the bustling city, we felt for the first time real relief. Exhausted as we were, I couldn't handle the mental stress involved in ordering tapas, so we settled for a dinner of cheap and easy Döner Kebap.

We learned a lot of things about the Spanish piso seeking experience based on our four days spent scouring the city. One, if it's a good place, it will be snapped up like hotcakes. Two, being first in line won't give you any advantage if the landlord/property manager is intent on discriminating. Three, there are some really awful, deceitful people and some really, generous helpful people out there.

We fell into a good place by sheer luck. And for as long as it felt to us, success after only four days is encouraging when taken in context.

Here's my wrap-up of costs related to our search:

Food: 92€
Phone: 99€
Hostal: 120€
Segundamano classified papers: 10.80€
Cybercafé time: 6€
Metro and train tickets: 61€
Baggage check: 73€
New cell phone charger when we realized ours were in the baggage check: 20€
Deposit: 500€
Having a place to call your own in Madrid: priceless

Piso Search: DAY 3

2007-08-31T01:46:00.000+02:00

First thing Thursday, we got on a train to Parla, which was at least an hour and a half from point A where we were staying (more or less city center) to point B. Plus, it's not even on the same train line as Getafe. I couldn't tell how long it would take to take the train up from Parla to Atocha station and back down to Getafe, and I didn't know what sort of bus availability there was either. I asked for both at the Parla train stop but the snippy man there just didn't want to help. "The only Parla train schedule is on the wall," he repeated. Fat lot of good that is.

Once there, we couldn't even find the apartment, since the landlord had given us landmark-based directions instead of an address. Not that that would have helped anyways, considering our lack of map. We left without seeing the place. Even if it was a jewel, A. remarked, it couldn't warrant living so far out in the sticks.

Having wasted the better part of a morning, plus the train fare, we bought our Segundamano at the Atocha train station and set about our daily routine late but efficiently. We used our cell phones this time, a nice change from street-side pay phones. A. thought that we always had better luck when I, the sweet gringa called, and he forced me to make most of the calls. I did reach a good percentage, and got several promising appointments set for the afternoon later.

It was time to hit the online listings, but this time I thought we'd hit two birds with one stone. I had read that there was a place called The Irish Rover with wi-fi, and I imagined we could strike up a friendship with some English-speaking expats and glean from them if not leads, then at least commiseration.

We made the long trek up to where it is on Avenida del Brasil all the way up by the Santiago Bernabeu stadium, where Real Madrid plays. In the end, the food was all right, but overpriced, the staff all Spanish as far as we could tell, and it was far bigger and emptier a locale than I had thought. Still, we spent the better part of two hours using their connection, so all was not lost.

I was pleasantly surprised to see people had replied so quickly to the requests I had sent out to my fellow CouchSurfers for a night or two's stay on their couch. But then I noticed a problem: due to some glitch in the Couchsurfing site, our messages had gotten jumbled and switched with other people's. Confused CSers wrote back saying, "I think you've made a mistake, I live in Spain" and "I'm not Anne and my German's a little rusty." Oh well. The issue wasn't quite as urgent as our piso search, and we had already paid for two more nights at the hostal (although it was getting smellier by the day).

We were starting to get worried though. Why hadn't we had any luck at all? Why were there so many factors against us? A. told me he wasn't sure whether he wanted to live in Spain beyond this year after all. He said he was starting to think we would have to consider inmobiliario agency services. For the past two and a half days we had been eating what was quick and affordable, never stopping to rest more than what we could on the metro between apartment visits. We were sapped of energy and not a little sleep deprived. What a rude awakening this had been.

Well, we did get a short rest off our feet, but it wasn't for reasons to our liking. Yet another property manager stood us up, this time for a studio on Tribulete street in the Lavapiés district. He told us that another couple had already given him the "señal." What was this mysterious sign he spoke of? It wasn't the first time we'd heard mention of it.

Since our next stop was an hour later a few streets over on cobblestoned Sombrerete street, we sat for a while on a bench and then spent some more time in a cybercafé or locutorio following up on leads. Soon it was time for our next appointment.

We were very impressed with the modern studio that we saw there (see picture). Smartly painted, with a new fridge and washing machine, and a comfy bed, the space was small but cozy.

And the owner very laid back. This cool chap by the name of Santiago said he and his girlfriend were leaving to Ireland to have their own foreign adventure. And he told us not to worry about showing him an aval or anything; he understood how it was to deal with bureaucracy in a new county. Besides the slightly muggy air and the slightly dusty retrofitting the ancient building was undergoing, we couldn't find a thing wrong.

Santi could tell we were excited but told us not to make our mind up on the spot. "How soon can you move out?" I had asked. "Go take a walk and talk about it," he advised. He just told us to call if we were ready. If not us, he was sure another couple was ready to seal the deal. She had come by earlier and he was set to come around at 10:30 that night, so if we were sure we'd have to move before they did. Santiago remarked that no sooner had he posted the listing that day (I believe on loquo.com) than the phone started ringing.

A. and I were positively giddy. We pranced about the main Lavapiés square (a few meters from the apartment building). We had finally found an owner willing to give us a chance. And the place was so nice. Well, the inside was nice at least. The area, though, was not known as one of Madrid's best. It's a district given over to immigrant populations, "mucho moro," mentioned Maribel of La Latina. That's not to say necessarily that it's less safe. I asked Santiago how he felt and he said he'd come home totally smashed some nights and no one had ever bothered him.

We observed the square. It was vibrant, not ghetto. There were plenty of open shops and lots of Indian and Middle Eastern restaurants. A. and I discussed it. In Mexico City, at least, you can run into trouble anywhere, he said. Whoever expects to get carjacked in a swank shopping district? Besides, I added, Spaniards are overly racist towards Middle Easterners, or Moors as they still call them. I'd like to see both them and Gypsies get fairer treatment.

Even so, we had another appointment for that night that we thought we should go to. Our time wasn't until 8, but I figured the earlier the better, so we could act on Santiago's place. I called to ask if we could come early, and was told to come by now. The other studio in question was also recently remodeled, and fashionably decorated. Same price as well, (600€).

We got off at Goya metro, even though Príncipe de Vergara would have been closer, and noticed immediately that it was on of those swank shopping districts we had just been comparing Lavapiés to. You couldn't ask for a starker contrast. This apartment was a basement, but had light from the building's inner courtyard. We could tell it was a very clean place as the porter let us in to meet Aurora.

She was older than I expected, with an altogether motherly aura: warm if somewhat fastidious. Kind of like the apartment she showed us, with its new appliances and bunk/trundle beds. She asked us about our situation and we were on our best behavior describing ourselves as responsible, bright people. Her son was attending Carlos III too, she said. Great, I thought. We could tell then and there that the person who got it would be lucky and hand-selected by Aurora. She said she would be making her decision that night and informing us either way.

We left in a quandary. Should we wait for Aurora's decision? If we wait too long will we lose both hers and Santiago's option? A. admitted he preferred her apartment to Santiago's although Maribel's was still his number one choice. So I called Maribel and she promised she would let me know as soon as she heard back regarding our situation. But it didn't seem that promising. She let slip she was tired of showing the apartment and ready to get the whole thing over with.

We knew she still wouldn't even get in touch with us until Monday anyways. And Monday was seeming such a far way off. We needed housing now. Aurora's place was empty and ready to be occupied tomorrow. But it seemed unlikely she would choose us from her list of top 5 candidates. It seemed we were so close, and yet so far from having a place to call our own in Madrid.

As we talked about it, A. and I both revealed we didn't feel as good about the Lavapiés place as we had earlier. Are you worried about security? I asked A. Yes and no, he said. He did think what a conspicuous and ripe target we would make as we dragged our four large and heavy suitcases across the square and up the four flights of stairs to our new place. But it was more than that, he said. A feeling as though we needed to wait for something else to come. I had to agree I felt similarly. But the agony of the unknown can be nerve-wracking.

Ten-thirty came and went. We didn't hear from Aurora and we never called Santiago back. Had we just made a big mistake, letting something sure slip through our hands?

Piso Search: DAY 2

2007-08-31T00:28:00.000+02:00

We got up early, bought Wednesday's Segundamano, and started in on any new listings and ones from yesterday we hadn't been able to reach. The first apartment we visited—in the La Latina district—was absolutely darling. Yes, it was on the fifth floor (and by fifth, I mean 6 flights of stairs, given ground floor is floor zero in Spain). No, there was no elevator. But it was nicely furnished, recently renovated, and the space was much better laid out than in the Cuatro Caminos attic we'd seen the night before. In fact, this place even had its own attic for storage. And the price (600€) seemed fair.

The landlady, Maribel, told us of the affection she had for the little place since her parents had given it to her a few years back, and extolled the authentic madrileño flavor of the La Latina district. "I'm not just saying that because of the apartment," she insisted. "You'll find out for yourselves with more time here." The only problem was our inability to comply with the financial requirements set forth by the ayuntamiento, who were helping her rent the place.

For this particular place, it was required that the rent be no more than 40% of our monthly income. We told Maribel we thought we would qualify, based on my scholarship/contract and our savings account statements, even though we weren't exactly sure at that point how much of our savings we'd actually have for living expenses after A.'s last tuition payment was due (stay tuned for whether he gets any scholarship or financial aid...we'll know in September). Alas, would what we offer be enough for her?

What they were looking for were pay stubs, and an aval bancario, too. Now an aval bancario is something you pay 50€ or so per month to the bank so that they can issue you a letter promising to make monthly payments if you fail to. Trouble was, we didn't have a Spanish bank account, and couldn't get one until we had our NIEs, or residency numbers, which we couldn't apply for until we had an address to put down. Quite the catch-22.

Maribel was sympathetic and promised to check with the people at the ayuntamiento to see if our documentation was enough. But not until Monday. We thanked her and left. One thing she mentioned was very informative. It wouldn't be any problem to stay for 10 months even though we would be signing a one-year contract, as long as we gave her one month's advance notice. It was the law, she said. We figured we would be protected in this way throughout the whole city, and that contract lengths wouldn't be an obstacle to us getting into a place.

But at this point, we were a bit discouraged because of the obvious disadvantage we were at, not being able to get an aval bancario. Nearly half the ads we read asked for it. It's a total obstacle for new immigrants searching for housing, but how could we argue it? We decided that from then on, if we liked a place, we would try to persuade them what good tenants we would be, realizing that it was up to us to plead our case and get the landlord to trust us.

We went to a few other other places, including a budget-minded 400€ room in Chueca where the landlord absolutely refused to consider us because we were a couple, and he had explicitly listed the studio as "unipersonal." He stood aghast as we walked in: "Both of you?" he asked A. "Well, yes, she's my wife." Granted, it was as big as other studios we would see, but he just kept going on and on about how you'll see immigrants on the news crammed into small, barely livable quarters and he just couldn't be a part of it. Granted, he would rent it to someone if they just had their girlfriend by on the weekends, but it was too little for two long-term, he insisted. We couldn't get anywhere with this guy, so we thanked him and left.

We wandered about the hip Chueca district and stumbled upon free wi-fi at Fly Café. The British barista set us up and we surfed for more than an hour, gathering more listings and munching on granola and yogurt. I also dropped an e-mail to 5 or so CouchSurfers based in Madrid, hoping to make some local connections and to alleviate our lodging costs in case this search went on forever. (Couchsurfing.com is like hospitality services of old, but it's mostly a young and hip demographic interested in this Web phenomenon.)

Then we made a visit to what we thought was a studio, but it turned out to be an inmobiliario office, and I sternly rejected their pitch, which was to give us a list of some places that fit our specifications...for a mere 300€. That much without any guarantee we'd get in? No thanks. We learned elsewhere that another common agency fee once you sign a contract is to pay them equal to one month's rent. I decided to steer clear of all agency listings from then on.

We went to see one apartment which was very spacious indeed, with a bedroom, living room and even an office, only to find out there was some miscommunication, since they were asking 850€. Oh, and there were leaks, funny smells, and for whatever reason, celebrity magazine tear-outs thumbtacked to every available wall. I dug my nails into A.'s hand: no!

We went to another appointment and waited outside with two other girls for 30 minutes for Enrique to show us up...A. finally called him and oops, he told us he had just closed the deal with someone else. Surprise. While walking to the nearest metro stop, we dropped into an Orange mobile shop and asked about their prepaid cards. I had previously gotten our two Nokia phones unlocked by T-Mobile and knew that their SIM cards were compatible at least with Orange's system. I had checked out other providers' plan offerings, at least cursorily, and for the time being thought Orange was as good as any other. Besides, we kept getting asked for our numbers by people we called, or hitting answering machines.

We dropped 15€ each, which bought us a number plus 12€ of calling time. I figured that the calling rates were high, but no more so than pay phone rates. And we kept running out of minutes on our pay phone cards at the worst moments anyways and then not being able to track down a tobacco shop when we needed to buy new ones.

While at the shop, one of the store employees asked me if I knew any American girls interested in doing au pair work. The reason he asked was because he had four kids (which to him and most Spaniards is a lot). I said, "Sure, I come from just the place you need to know. It's called Utah. Highest per-capita birthrate in the nation. And at a certain university called Brigham Young University, you'll have an unlimited supply of takers. These girls are smart, quiet, and interested in brushing up a second-language to become more attractive in the dating scene. Just what you need." He had me spell out Brigham Young for him before we left.

Piso Search: DAY 1

2007-08-31T00:09:00.000+02:00

Ah, Madrid. With much anticipation, my husband A. and I arrived at Barajas International Airport at 10:30 a.m. Tuesday, Aug. 24, having slept somewhat well through most of the overnight Continental flight from Phoenix and having eaten the vegetarian on-flight dinner (a not-too-bad curry and spinach dish with a vegan chocolate chip cookie).

We were, if not entirely bright-eyed in that moment, still looking forward to making Madrid our home for the next ten months. A. had been accepted to the MBA program at the Carlos III of Madrid University and I’d landed a stipended position from the Spanish government to teach English in an elementary school. The real allure of the situation was in the fact that we would be living in Spain—magical Spain, portal to Europe—and having a year of “adventure.” Little did we know, the first 4 days that we spent searching vainly for a piso would form the most trying and desperate experience we had ever faced.

Naïvely, we had figured we would land in Madrid and in no time be approached with various apartment offers. We knew the space would be small, but that was fine, considering how little we had brought over. When I say small, I mean a one-room studio with a cocina americana (integrated kitchen) and a small adjoining bathroom. But we never imagined how difficult it would be to enter the rented housing market in Spain’s capital. For those of you who’ve tried to find a affordable place in New York City, I imagine the following will sound very familiar.

Back to the airport. As soon as we landed and passed breezily through customs, we locked our 4 checked suitcases and one carry-on at a consigna (it turned out to be the most ghetto and only elevator-less of all the airport's). The process took a while, what with getting cash and then change because the token machine only accepted five-euro bills or less…more on the lockers later. But by 1 p.m., we were practically skipping down the moving sidewalks, following the METRO signs to what were sure would be pure piso nirvana.

We decided to ride the metro all the way down to Getafe, a university town south of Madrid, where A. would both be studying and where we had hopes of finding housing. Riding the metro this way—snaking down from the farthest northeast corner to the farthest southwest corner of the system—is neither the fastest nor the cheapest of all public modes of transportation, although we didn’t care at the time. We happily added a one-euro ticket supplement here and another there, and an hour and a half later arrived in Getafe Central station.

We could have ridden one stop closer to the university, but got out early to try and scope out the town for alojamiento offerings. By the time we got there, it was smack in the middle of siesta time and there was hardly anyone else out. We ambled down one of the town's main roads, jotting down phone numbers of every handwritten piso announcement we found. We did the same for ads posted inside university buildings (it's a very pretty campus by the way). We ignored anything listing habitación, since those are mostly intended for individual students looking to live with roommates.

A. set about calling the numbers from a pay phone back in Getafe proper...and to our dismay found every place (all dozen, at most) had either already been rented out or was beyond our budget. 600€ was about the max we thought we could afford, given that that's around $900 USD right now. On every call, people asked suspicious questions: "You're students? Do you have income? Do you have kids? Are you planning to have kids?" We decided then and there to expand our search to housing in Madrid's city center and took the RENFE train back to Madrid.

Not knowing where to start looking up classifieds, I bought a copy of El País (my fave Spanish periodical) for 1€ from a kiosk in the metro. Unfortunately, as renowned as El País is for its national news coverage, it's classifieds section is almost nonexistent. We bought some bocadillos de jamón from a small café and asked the worker what would be our best bet for classifieds. "Segundamano," was her reply. She was right: it's chock-full of nothing but listings, including many for-rent ones. Unfortunately, it costs a pretty penny: 2.70€. Over, we started to pore over ads in the Flats of Rent section.

We called all of the reasonably centric locations, hearing a few were already unavailable, but setting up a few appointments for later in the week, and one for 8 p.m. that night. In the meantime, I was feeling tired and started searching for a hostel. I hadn't made a reservation, so we called some of the recommended hostels in my guidebook, only to find that their prices were 100-200% higher than my listed. I kicked my self for not buying the most up-to-date version, having held on to this Lonely Planet book since by 2004 study abroad in Alcalá de Henares.

Feet aching, we pressed on. We decided to make a stop at a cybercafé to check online listings, and dropped in at one at the Noviciado metro stop. Here I jotted down info from www.segundamano.es, www.idealista.com and madrid.loquo.com, as well as other less commendable sites. To use a Spanish term, using the Net's resources is imprescindible while piso-hunting as many good listings can be found there and aren't in the physical papers.

I continued to search while A. went out to make some phone queries. He took the better part of 20 minutes but came back with encouraging news. He had found a hostel, or an hostal, to be more to the point, with affordable 30€-a-night private rooms. It would turn out to be our one small success of the day. We checked in long enough to drop our stuff and then headed off to our first apartment inspection appointment.

We arrived at Cuatro Caminos 20 minutes early, with enough time to find the address, order take-out Döner Kebap and eat much-needed sustenance in the form of falafel and kepab. Back at the address, we found 12 other people staked out by the door. Was this normal? I asked myself. Seems like a lot of people for one measly 600€ 40-m² attic. The landlord took up people one or two at a time, and after another half hour, we wound our way up 5 flights on stairs (no elevator) to the teeny one-room attic studio. We talked to the current tenants, but discovered the place would be not available until Sept. 1 and wouldn't come with any furniture at all.

An unfurnished place just wasn't an option, considering how much we'd have to sink in bigger-ticket items that we'd only be using for a year. Besides, it seemed that there were plenty of furnished or amueblado places listed for rent. Back in the hostal, we made our game plan for the next day and channel-surfed long enough to catch a carbon-copy version of "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" with the same theme song and all, except in Spanish: "Sabes más que un niño de primaria?" That night's contestant sure didn't seem to be, stumped as he was on the question: Which is longer: a whole note or a whole rest? Banal, but distracting.