Yesterday, en el día de San Valentín, Pan and Laura and I went wandering around Madrid checking out the gym scene. The one at the University is almost pathetically small, although maybe I will be taking advantage of it. It really makes me appreciate Freeman for all it's space and light and music and free-ness.
But anyways, the journey began with a building that to our American eyes did not seem like it could possibly contain a gymnasium inside. We cautiously approached the door and stood there dumbfounded for a moment. It appeared that we had to ring a bell in order to enter. This could not be, could it? Yes, yes it could. We rang, and an incredibly good-looking fit woman answered the door and ushered us inside. We took a tour that consisted of basically turning around and walking up a short flight of stairs. This gym was tiny. And smelled like people working out because there was a significant lack of ventilaton. This is really all I can remember from this one, besides the fact that we got a free pass to one of the classes and the prices weren't wholly unreasonable. Expensive, but not unreasonable. I was chuckling a little the entire time and glancing at Laura.
The second one, on the other hand, was utterly ridiculous. It was somewhat of a cross between a gym, a massage therapy building, and a modern art museum. The walls were painted a nice orange, the lights were dim, the music was calm. There were lovely modern art paintings on the walls that had some illumination to draw attention to them. Immediately upon entering this place (that was on the second story of a building with an sign advertisting their locations in Milan, Londen, Paris, Madrid, Miami, etc) I decided I didn't want to do it. Hopefully they throw out the card with my number on it that was mandatory to fill out in order to get any information. The most ridiculous part of this whole thing, or one of the more astounding, was the price. A little less than €200 a month. Whaaaaa??
This is not encouraging for my already pathetic gym attendance at a gym that is amazing and free (at Wes). We shall see how my body reacts to this lack of exercise. Except for the large amount of walking everywhere.
j
15 February 2007
13 February 2007
correction:
She spells her name Vicky. And tonight I had to explain what matzoh ball soup is. In spanish. And a little bit about what Passover is. This to a woman who on the first day asked me if I was Catholic or Protestant.
The family is surprisingly normal. Andres and Vicky fight sometimes. And disagree. But there is definitely a level of respect. I suppose when the norm is living with your parents until age 40, the relationships are going to have to be different. The normalcy of the household makes it a little more weird to live here. Because I feel like that much more of an outsider.
j
The family is surprisingly normal. Andres and Vicky fight sometimes. And disagree. But there is definitely a level of respect. I suppose when the norm is living with your parents until age 40, the relationships are going to have to be different. The normalcy of the household makes it a little more weird to live here. Because I feel like that much more of an outsider.
j
12 February 2007
Pantuflas is a funny word
It means slippers, but not the kind that you wear around the house with the hard sole. Those are zapatillos (I think). Pantuflas are more the fuzzy socks that I love so much. Mine are green and white striped and they look pretty ridiculous. Especially when I wear them around the house because I need to obtain some of these "house slippers". It's mal educado (bad manners) to be barefoot around the house. But more than that, Vicki expressed concern over me being cold due to the bare feet. It is ridiculously warm in this house and I have yet to be cold at all.
About the house: It's an apartment really. There is a small foyer, and then one large room that appears more like two rooms, or almost 3. There's a part with a piano, a part with the couch and the tv, and then the table where we eat. The kitchen is off to the right and rather narrow. Not really a large party cooking kitchen. Then there is a hallway that ends with Andrés' room. There is also the main bathroom and Vicki's bedroom. And my room. Which is a good size. Well, that's a lie. It's a small room, but it's a good size for me. This is mostly because the extra room that I could have as part of my bedroom is my very own bathroom. You have to pass through my bedroom to get to this bathroom, so it is extremely private. Which is amazing. Because I don't have to worry about all the cultural differences with walking to the bathroom in a towel (a practice that is not done). I have a desk and 2 windows that let a TON of natural light in during the day. And a day bed, And a small closet with some drawers. And a nightstand.There's a clock on the wall and lovely wooden bookshelves. I like the simplicity in this.
Vicki is 60 years old. This past December she had an operation to remove a tumor from either her stomach or her uterus. I'm not entirely sure because I'm not sure what is appropriate to ask or not. And I've never been a person to ask into personal details about health and that type of thing. But she is going back to work this week I think. Which is really good. Right now I get the feeling that she has been pretty house-ridden and is antsy to get out. She doesn't like to cook, but she does it anyways. And her meals are a lot more complicated than what I would think of being made by someone in the US who doesn't like to cook. I ate octopus and mussels last night. And asparagus and swordfish the night before. To me, this just proves that cooking at home is a huge part of the Spanish culture. She wouldn't even think of going out to dinner. She cooks. Every night. This is different than what I am used to in Wisconsin (no offense Mom). I like it.
Andrés is 22. He plays piano en un grupo with his friends, and I think he also teaches on the weekends. And he works at a television station doing something with music in cinema. I want to talk with him more about this. He's friendly, and pretty easy to talk to but I wouldn't call him warm and reaching out to get to know me. Maybe I'm not reaching out enough either, but I don't know. He's very proficient in English, which comes in handy when there are words that I don't understand. Actually, he studied for a while at Marymount College in Terrytown, NY. About 5 miles from my house in Dobbs Ferry. Crazy world we are in. A funny short anecdote: When I met him he was at his computer downloading "Stacy's Mum" by Fountains of Wayne. This, to me, is HILARIOUS. Also, he is currently starting to watch Battlestar Galactica and Firefly. And Heroes. So I watched my first episode of Battlestar Galactica in Spanish the other day. It was interesting. I think I understood it.
The presents I brought them from the US were a Johnny Cash cd (CASH Vol.II) and a maple-leaf-shaped bottle of maple syrup. They didn't know what to do with the syrup, so I tried explaining that you put it on pancakes or waffles or vanilla ice cream. I'm glad the bottle is pretty, so they don't feel obligated to use it all. Vicki already knew about Johnny Cash, and both she and Andrés like him a lot. Vicki, in fact, loves American country music like Dolly Parton and is more knowledgable about this that I am. And to think that my mom's response to me saying "I will get them Johnny Cash" was "Oh! That's a bit risky. What if they don't like it?" Ha. Secretly, I think I bought them this cd so Johnny Cash would be played in the house. Because I love him.
A slightly weird thing about the customs of the house here. The television is ALWAYS on. Literally. And I'm not the only one in my group that has encountered this situation. It's on all day while Vicki is here. Which is not weird. She normally watches American movies that are dubbed in Spanish. One day I should see if there's one I already know so then I'll be more likely to understand everything. But the tv is on during comida and dinner. My place at the table is with my back towards the television, so it makes the situation that much more awkward. In Wisconsin, the television is on a lot, but I can block it out because I don't need to hear every word my mother says in English to know what she says. But in Spanish, I need to to hear everything clearly. It's kinda a bit of a challenge. I turned off the tv one day when Andrés was talking to me, and he looked shocked. And for a second I froze, wondering if I had just broken some unwritten rule and thinking I was going to get kicked out of the house. He said it was okay, but immediately upon sitting down to dinner the tv was turned back on. Actually, when Vicki listens to music (as was the case when I first arrived) the television isn't on.
Oh no, my battery has now reached the red region. I've lasted 3 days without charging it. The time had to come I suppose. This might be my last entry for a while. But I promise that I will be checking email at the school and all that. Oh! And you can send stuff to my house.
Jacqui Stavis
Vicki Dubreuil
C/ Viriato 56, 7º Dcha
28010 Madrid, Spain
j
About the house: It's an apartment really. There is a small foyer, and then one large room that appears more like two rooms, or almost 3. There's a part with a piano, a part with the couch and the tv, and then the table where we eat. The kitchen is off to the right and rather narrow. Not really a large party cooking kitchen. Then there is a hallway that ends with Andrés' room. There is also the main bathroom and Vicki's bedroom. And my room. Which is a good size. Well, that's a lie. It's a small room, but it's a good size for me. This is mostly because the extra room that I could have as part of my bedroom is my very own bathroom. You have to pass through my bedroom to get to this bathroom, so it is extremely private. Which is amazing. Because I don't have to worry about all the cultural differences with walking to the bathroom in a towel (a practice that is not done). I have a desk and 2 windows that let a TON of natural light in during the day. And a day bed, And a small closet with some drawers. And a nightstand.There's a clock on the wall and lovely wooden bookshelves. I like the simplicity in this.
Vicki is 60 years old. This past December she had an operation to remove a tumor from either her stomach or her uterus. I'm not entirely sure because I'm not sure what is appropriate to ask or not. And I've never been a person to ask into personal details about health and that type of thing. But she is going back to work this week I think. Which is really good. Right now I get the feeling that she has been pretty house-ridden and is antsy to get out. She doesn't like to cook, but she does it anyways. And her meals are a lot more complicated than what I would think of being made by someone in the US who doesn't like to cook. I ate octopus and mussels last night. And asparagus and swordfish the night before. To me, this just proves that cooking at home is a huge part of the Spanish culture. She wouldn't even think of going out to dinner. She cooks. Every night. This is different than what I am used to in Wisconsin (no offense Mom). I like it.
Andrés is 22. He plays piano en un grupo with his friends, and I think he also teaches on the weekends. And he works at a television station doing something with music in cinema. I want to talk with him more about this. He's friendly, and pretty easy to talk to but I wouldn't call him warm and reaching out to get to know me. Maybe I'm not reaching out enough either, but I don't know. He's very proficient in English, which comes in handy when there are words that I don't understand. Actually, he studied for a while at Marymount College in Terrytown, NY. About 5 miles from my house in Dobbs Ferry. Crazy world we are in. A funny short anecdote: When I met him he was at his computer downloading "Stacy's Mum" by Fountains of Wayne. This, to me, is HILARIOUS. Also, he is currently starting to watch Battlestar Galactica and Firefly. And Heroes. So I watched my first episode of Battlestar Galactica in Spanish the other day. It was interesting. I think I understood it.
The presents I brought them from the US were a Johnny Cash cd (CASH Vol.II) and a maple-leaf-shaped bottle of maple syrup. They didn't know what to do with the syrup, so I tried explaining that you put it on pancakes or waffles or vanilla ice cream. I'm glad the bottle is pretty, so they don't feel obligated to use it all. Vicki already knew about Johnny Cash, and both she and Andrés like him a lot. Vicki, in fact, loves American country music like Dolly Parton and is more knowledgable about this that I am. And to think that my mom's response to me saying "I will get them Johnny Cash" was "Oh! That's a bit risky. What if they don't like it?" Ha. Secretly, I think I bought them this cd so Johnny Cash would be played in the house. Because I love him.
A slightly weird thing about the customs of the house here. The television is ALWAYS on. Literally. And I'm not the only one in my group that has encountered this situation. It's on all day while Vicki is here. Which is not weird. She normally watches American movies that are dubbed in Spanish. One day I should see if there's one I already know so then I'll be more likely to understand everything. But the tv is on during comida and dinner. My place at the table is with my back towards the television, so it makes the situation that much more awkward. In Wisconsin, the television is on a lot, but I can block it out because I don't need to hear every word my mother says in English to know what she says. But in Spanish, I need to to hear everything clearly. It's kinda a bit of a challenge. I turned off the tv one day when Andrés was talking to me, and he looked shocked. And for a second I froze, wondering if I had just broken some unwritten rule and thinking I was going to get kicked out of the house. He said it was okay, but immediately upon sitting down to dinner the tv was turned back on. Actually, when Vicki listens to music (as was the case when I first arrived) the television isn't on.
Oh no, my battery has now reached the red region. I've lasted 3 days without charging it. The time had to come I suppose. This might be my last entry for a while. But I promise that I will be checking email at the school and all that. Oh! And you can send stuff to my house.
Jacqui Stavis
Vicki Dubreuil
C/ Viriato 56, 7º Dcha
28010 Madrid, Spain
j
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