Every city has a word

Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love wasn't the most intriguing read of all times (in fact it was one of the only books in my life that I couldn't finish reading) but it wasn't without its good points!  At one point in Italy, her friend Giulio tells her,

Every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people’s thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you will discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be- that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don’t really belong there.
            "What's Rome's word?" I asked.
            "SEX," he announced.
            "But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
             "No."
....Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it -- that's all anybody is doing."

If I had to give just ONE word to Madrid....I think it would be FIESTA.  I can guarantee that everyone on the streets of Madrid is either thinking about a celebration, tired from a previous celebration, dressing for / shopping for / preparing for an upcoming celebration, excited for a celebration, regretting too much celebration...the list goes on and on.  The "mañana mentality" of Spain?....blame it on the fiesta.

 

 

Favorite poem

My Dad has a collection of old and tattered poetry books from his college days, picked up at various second hand book stores and antique shops over the years.  As a kid I always loved the way they looked and smelled, but never opened them.  When I was 13, I finally opened one up.  It was a collection of poems by Tennyson. I read this poem and immediately copied it down onto some pretty Korean stationary.  It remained on that Korean stationary (in my 13-year-old self's handwriting) in the clear plastic front of my binder for most of high school.  I didn't realize that I had it memorized until I just started reciting it to myself recently.

The Flower
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.

To and fro they went
Thro' my garden-bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.

Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.

Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried
`Splendid is the flower.'

Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.

España, te amo

1. I love that when I go to the supermarket, I only have to choose between three types of cereal.

2. I love that when I walk around Arroyomolinos, I always run into at least 1 familiar face

3. I love that the 25 minute bus ride to Madrid stops right in front of my apartment.

4. I love that my Spanish moms have added me on Facebook and take me shopping.

5. I love that I can go to the pasta aisle in the Corte Ingles and overhear three gorgeous Italian girls arguing over spaghetti.
6. I love that Principe Pio looks like this at 9:30 at night.

7. I love that when I take a kid away from their parents, teachers, and peers, and just hang out with them, I realize how cool and smart they are.

8. I love that I can't go one weekend without meeting someone foreign, cool, and/or interesting.

9. I love that la marcha doesn't start until 1am and doesn't end until 6am.

10. I love that I can travel wherever I want, whenever I want.

11. I love when people can't tell I'm American.

12. I love enjoying Jesus' mojitos with friends at La Tarasca.

13. I love accidentally kissing strangers...and not so accidentally kissing strangers.
14. I love that an 8 year old asked me if I knew who Calle 13 were. 

15. I love the hippies in Valencia and the peregrinos in Santiago de Compostela.

16. I love my kids.
17. I love that it is totally acceptable to take 100 fifth and sixth graders on a bike ride (from Arroyomolinos to Mostoles)...with only 2 adults to supervise.
18. I love that my nails, hair, and jewelry are the most intriguing things about me to most 7 year olds.

In conclusion,.............España, te amo