Mama (and others) in Madrid!

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Since it is Mother’s Day, it’s only fitting that this next blog be about my Mom's (and Aunt Cindy and friend Jesse’s) visit to Spain. So here goes:

We decided to have Mom and my Aunt visit during Semana Santa (Holy Week), the Catholic stand-in for Spring Break. Instead of the customary student “sun, sand and surf” of American Spring Break, Holy Week is a big, somber deal in Spain. Knowing what I know now of the magnitude of this festival, I can definitely say that I will not be having guests next year during this time. I’ll be headed outside of Spain for sure! (see explanation below).

That being said, we managed to have a pretty good time while everyone was here. Mom arrived first and, together with Jesse, we hung out around Madrid, seeing the sights and getting over jet lag. We rented an apartment near the center of the city (Sol) and were therefore in a prime location to be tourists. The apartment was huge compared to mine and the inside could’ve been an IKEA showroom. Although we were unclear about the details of the washer and the heating/air conditioning system (both of which led to direct proof of Murphy’s Law), all in all the apartment was a good choice. Expensive? Yes, but close to everything. Highlights form this part of the trip included: dinner at the Mercado de San Miguel (always classy) and drinks at a flamenco bar with some great improv sevillanas and Spanish guitar.

I put Jesse on a train to Lisbon so that he could meet up with friends in Portugal and we could have some family time together. A note to train travelers in Spain: ALWAYS check your departure and arrival station. We made the mistake of buying his tickets to Lisbon in Atocha (the main southern station in Madrid) and assumed that he would leave from there. But, this being Spain, things couldn’t be THAT easy… So, upon arriving at Atocha, bag in hand Jesse looks at me and says, “Adam, what is Chamartin?” My eyes go wide with surprise. Chamartin is the northern train station across the city from Atocha. He was leaving from there! Fortunately, the light-rail system (Cercanías) came to our rescue and we made it to Chamartin in just under 15 minutes, just in time to put Jesse on the train to Lisbon…with one minute to spare. Cindy arrived the following week and we were off!

My time with my Mom and Aunt was great and, like always, too short. It really is the people in your life who make the difference, not the place. I can say that because just about everything that could’ve gone wrong did on this trip, but we were able to laugh about it and I’m sure we’ll be telling the stories for many years to come. The clear positives were a good flamenco show at Las Tablas and a visit to the Thyssen Museum.

Basically, my Aunt is a vegetarian and Spain is a decidedly carnivorous country. We would get into a restaurant and ask for a salad, which would then come piled high with tuna, bacon bits and/or shrimp. So, I started asking waiters what EXACTLY was in their “house salads.” Although we got some pretty nonplussed looks, eventually my Aunt was able to eat some things. Being a former food critic, what really got my Mom was the total lack of customer service offered in Spanish restaurants. Since I only go out to eat occasionally (and even then usually to the same four or five spots), I never thought twice about this. No one comes by your table to ask how your food is, if you’d like anything else or if you need a refill on your drink. In fact, I actually had a waitress put the bill down in front of me after an extremely long lunch and say rather curtly, “Are you done yet?” Since my food had long ago been taken off the table I assumed she was referring to the bill. ¡Qué crudo! In Spain, you dine out at your own risk, at least when compared with the pampering you get in American eateries. You do it all and, what is more, you are competing with a restaurant full of eager patrons all jockeying for the attentions of one or two waiters. This does not improve as you go up in Michelin stars either. We had Easter brunch at the extremely swanky Westin Palace Hotel and, although the food was great (duck confit in tapas form…mmmmm!), the overzealous wait staff took one of my forks while I was still eating. They then proceeded to clear the chargers off the table when we still clearly had thirds in mind. Oh well, the opera was a nice background bonus and we dressed to the nines, so it was worth it. 😊 However, in Spain you don’t leave much of a tip at all. In the touristy areas you’ll still see people leave 15% of a bill in a tip but those are usually the tourists. Normally you leave the smallest change you have, and I think this is part of the reason service is so poor here in Spain I just never noticed it until I had to entertain people.

Then we ran off to Segovia for a day trip and I made the girls walk and walk and walk. It was a nice day, but still a little cool for spring. Aside from the main sights (the aqueduct, cathedral and alcázar), we also had the dubious pleasure of seeing the Holy Week processions parade through downtown Segovia. In this part of Spain the celebrations are very somber; the women wear black dresses accompanied by massive mantillas or mantles that old up lacey black veils while the men dress in long robes and capes. Those who take part in the processions, and I kid you not, look like members of the Klan. In fact, when the KKK was formed, they took their hooded look from Spanish Holy Week costumes. The irony here is that the KKK is staunchly anti-Catholic. Anyways, some men carry massive floats on their backs with elaborate statues of Jesus or the Virgin Mary. They take them from storage in the churches, march them through the streets and, in Segovia at least, end their procession at the cathedral. They are accompanied by a military-esque marching band and cross bearers; literally people who carry heavy wooden crosses imitating Jesus’ last moments. Serious stuff. The faithful follow behind, unless you are Antonio Banderas who every year returns to his Spanish hometown to play his part in carrying a float. Who knew? We got a great view of the processions in Segovia through a complete accident. After asking the crowded tourist information center about any vegetarian restaurants in a city known for its suckling pig, the one restaurant they suggested was closed for Easter. So, we walked across the street and just as they set the food down we heard the unmistakable roll of the snare drums, walked to the windows, and below us were hundreds of black-clad executioners--I mean penitents--walking down the street. Pretty amazing.

The vegetarian restaurant’s closure was not an isolated incident and this was unfortunate because my Mom and Aunt wanted to do some shopping. Although they were here for a week, for four of those days all the stores were closed in observance of the Easter holiday. I was like…damn. We did manage to score some art glass for my Aunt and a cool new coat for Mom, so it turned out to be a success overall. The thinking here is completely different: holidays = rest, whereas in America holidays = shopping (just think of the day after Thanksgiving madness). I think that says a lot about cultural differences!

I had to work the following week and so couldn’t see my aunt off at the airport, but she left way before the ash cloud was wreaking havoc on European airspace, so all was well. I took Mom to school and she sat in on history (Ancient Egypt) and reading lessons. I think she liked the school environment and I’m sure the reading lesson reminded her of all those years spent volunteering with the reading programs in my schools. For me, it was nice to see her in the back of the class following along with the “Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time” although we both agree it is a poor choice for Spanish 12-year-olds).

Mom’s Euro-trip has pushed her into thinking about living abroad next year, maybe in Greece. I am all for this except for the fact that Greece’s economy has self-destructed and is now causing shockwaves throughout the rest of the world. We’ll have to see how things shake out. Between scrounging for vegetarian options and grappling with the lack of customer service I think Cindy was turned-off by Spain, but that’s OK. The next Thomas trip will just have to be in Greece! 😊

Speaking of trips, Jesse and I used the second weekend he was here to head to Tenerife in the Spanish-owned Canary Islands. This definitely felt more like Spring Break. Tenerife is just one of many volcanic islands sitting off the western coast of Africa that is a holdover from Spain’s colonial days. The Spanish spoken here reflects that history as they use more Latin American expressions and phrases, traditionally seen as more colonial Spanish. And, to mess with the tourists, they call the buses “guaguas,” which is my new favorite word. We hung out on the black sand beaches of the north and met some very cool Austrians and Germans with whom we rented a car and drove all over the north from the highest point in Spain (the dominating volcano known as “Teide,” or as we called it, Mt. Doom) to the breathtakingly beautiful northwestern tip with its sheer cliffs plunging hundreds of feet to the icy blue waters below. I nicknamed them the Cliffs of Insanity (+2 kudos if you get that reference). I can honestly say that I have never been in a place like that where you can be laying on the beach in the morning, driving through the clouds in the afternoon and then hiking through lava fields in the evening. It was a strange mix of Craters of the Moon meets Siesta Key meets Hawaii. After this trip, Jesse hit the ground running and was off to tour Italy for a couple of weeks. Going back to work, I was just a little jealous!

For the last day that Mom was here I also got to hang with another mom…Karla! Her boys, Derek and Ryan, and I grew up together in Dallas. Due to different life trajectories I haven’t seen them in probably a decade. However, my Mom and Karla recently did some catching up and, since Karla is a flight attendant, she decided to switch her London flights for Madrid. So she was able to hang out with us (and brought me some pumpkin to make her world famous pumpkin bread) and pasar un rato in Madrid. She knew the city quite well and took us to a really great little bar around the center that I would’ve missed completely! It was soo nice to see her again and hear about Derek and Ryan. After stints in the military Derek is back to school and married to a Texas belle and Ryan is stateside on base recovering from an ACL injury. I wish them both the absolute best and certainly hope to see their mom over her in Madrid again soon!

Now I am gearing up to accompany 10 Spanish students (one from each bilingual school in which we Fulbrighters work) and two teachers to New York City, provided that bomb threats or ash clouds don’t get in our way! The students are going to participate in a worldwide Model UN conference with some 2,000 attendees with sessions in the actual UN! My Fulbright compatriot, Heather and I have been hanging out as well, trying not to stress out over actually having to staff this conference and only being provided with conference materials, training quizzes and staff “icebreakers” several months late. I’m sure we will have a good time though and it will be nice to be back stateside for a couple of days. I already have my list of American products to bring back!

That’s all for now, but when I return my good friend Maddie will be here and together with Ali (another Fulbrighter and good friend of Maddie’s) we will be headed to the north of Spain to experience San Sebastian and the Basque Country. ¡Vamonos!

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Photos

Mt. Doom
aka Teide

Jesse
Jesse with lava fields behind him,