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Mujer en amarillo
I watched this captivating Spanish woman for a long time at a cafe. She's got that Spanish je ne sais quoi. When a dear friend asked when the next blog was coming, I had to confess that "I don't really have anything new and interesting to report, cuz I didn't travel this weekend, I've just been kickin' it here with the daily grind in Madrid. I got nuttin'." But she wisely pointed out that even the daily can be exotic in its way. So I'm trying to look at my city and my experience with new eyes and share that vision with my faithful readers.
So allow me to introduce you to
la gente de Espana. The Spanish are beautiful people with beautiful culture. Beautiful brown skin of every possible shade, big brown eyes framed by long dark lashes, thin fit bodies, beautiful shiny hair and curls liberated in all their glory. Even the
chicos proudly show off their curls in mullets. The Spanish have a daring fashion sense that currently includes high boots, neon tights, sequins, pointy-toed shoes, and long chunky necklaces. I can't tell if fashion here is 20 years behind or 2 years ahead of fashion in the States.
Vamos a ver. These beautiful people make time for each other, sometimes at the expense of everything else.
La Moda Espanola
The high boots are BIG here. Horarios are seldom posted on the doors of
tiendas, and when they are posted, they're largely ignored. They'll open when they open, and they'll close when they close. Work takes a back seat to taking a walk, stopping at a cafe for a
cerveza or a
cafe con leche with a friend, or leisurely enjoying the midday meal. They insist on soaking up any pleasureable experience with no concern for the time or for responsibilities.
The Spanish do know how to have fun. Since I moved, I've gotten a bigger taste of the nightlife in Madrid. Wow. The younguns keep dancing at
El Son (a
discoteca just around the corner from my apartment) until 5 in the morning (the
viejas like me call it quits at 4). Unlike in the States, the
chicos here really know how to dance. Salsa, merengue, rhumba, cha-cha, you name it. They've got rhythm, they know how to lead, and they can twirl a girl around like you can't believe. What fun! The pick-up lines are bold and comical.
"Me gustan tus labios. Me gustaria probarlos." "Vamos a tu cuarto. Puedo darte el tiempo de tu vida." "
Tu cuerpo es bonito. Me gustaria ir Amigas
All over town friends make time for each other. They sit lazily, lauging and sharing a cerveza or two. a un sitio adonde puedo conocerlo." Ha! Right, buddy. Nice try.
"Pero estoy caliente." Lo siento, my friend, but you're going to be
caliente y solo tonight.
I don't know how the Spanish are able to party so hard, sleep a few hours, get up the next morning to work a full day, then party the night away again.
I think it reveals a lot to know how the Spanish perceive Americans. When they think of us, they think of cowboys, horses and bad Starbuck's coffee. Hamburgers, coca-cola, denim, and over-the-top Hollywood movies. They find us to be egotistical, fat, uncultured and informal. They think we work too much, relax too little, and are consumed by stress to no constructive end. From their perspective, we live to work, while they work to live. As for what they think of our government, they're split. As a rule, the younger generations hate our fearless leader (I've had to apologize on his behalf more than once), but the folks who are old enough to think fondly on the Franco days think he's fabulous. Their feelings seem a little hurt when I tell them that most Americans don't have the faintest idea
Senorita
Dressed for the festival of San Isidro at Plaza Mayor. who their president is (Zapatero).
The Spanish are fiercely proud and protective of their language. They fight against Americanization. You can't eat a "Hot Dog" here, but you can chow on
Perritos Calientes. You certainly won't send an "e-mail," but rather
correo electronico. While in Central or South America, you might type such
correo on
una computadora, here you'll have to type it on
un ordenador. There's even a group of people here working to change the word "whiskey" to
guisqui, to preserve the Spanish tradition of phonetic spelling. When I was living with the family, Belen scolded Regina one day for teaching the kids words from South America...
"palabras que no existen." They are also extremely proud of their culture and heritage. Today is the Fiesta of San Isidro, and for the past week the citizens of Madrid have been celebrating everything
Madrileno. The children can be seen dressed in traditional
Madrileno clothing: the girls are wearing polka-dot dresses, flowers on top of their heads, and scarves covering their hair; the boys are wearing old-time checkered caps and jackets with a flower in the lapel. Even though these costumes are
antiguos, the modern families still feel it is
Senorito
He was sitting on his papa's shoulders watching the traditional Madrilena dancing in Plaza Mayor for the fiesta de San Isidro. important for the children to learn about and take part in their
Madrileno heritage.
Despite all of their Spanish pride, they may have to open their minds to some cultural changes in the near future. The human landscape is rapidly changing here. I've been told by a number of people here that Spain currently has the lowest birthrate in Europe (something like 1.2 ninos per couple). With the population bomb, you'd think that less would be more when it comes to units of humanity, but the Spanish are actually quite concerned as to how they will support their aging population. They're trying to come up with strategies to bring workers into Spain, via procreation and immigration.
Por eso, there is a huge population of emigrants from all over the world here. Many are legal, working low-paying jobs (the maids, the
limpieza street-cleaning squad, the busboys) and the temp positions, others are illegal, working on the down-low and getting by any way they can. The Asians sell massages, accupressure and magnetic gadgets. The eastern-Europeans offer themselves as musicians, artists, dancers, mimes, and psychics, reading palms and stones and tea leaves at collapsible tables on the squares. The Africans sell pirated
Cansada
Pobrecita. It's tough work being so cute. movies, stolen sunglasses, watches and purses on the streets, keeping an ever-vigilant eye out for police. I sat and watched them at El Retiro for a long time today. On a small parachute-like blanket, they spread their wares, heads swiveling constantly on the lookout. When a vender's radar it tweaked, they all grab the cords of their blankets, and POOF. They and their goods disappear into thin air. It reminds me of the Manu Chao song "Clandestino" about the plight of the illegal immigrant in Spain.
To be clear, it's not all fun and games here. In the wake of the Franco days (which ended in 1975 with his death), the people take their civic duties seriously. For example, the cost of living is high (thanks in part to the relatively recent change to the Euro) and employment can be difficult to secure. This weekend I saw a
protesta in the streets. The people were marching to oppose the unaffordable living conditions. Ahead of the marchers, the police were standing around in full riot gear. But even the
policia are Spanish at heart. They really didn't look worried about the protestors. Though they were on the job, they were
Dancing
At Plaza Mayor. I spotted them while I was sipping tinto and eating gazpacho. just hanging out, joking with one another and enjoying the warm summer air.
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Auds
non-member comment
I love it!
THANK YOU!