City of Surprises

Yes, Spain is the middle of a detrimental crisis.... but in spite of the economic problems, Spaniards enjoy life. Little things can be noticed in Madrid like that bars are less crowded than they once were years ago (and by less crowded, I mean that three times the amount of people that you would see in a bar in San Diego can be seen on a Monday, Tuesday, etc here....) Spaniards do not sacrifice fun. On any given day walking through the street, I find a gastronomical festival, a parade, a glitzy "Fashion Night" spectacle.... This photo in this post is a perfect example. Heading out Saturday night with a couple of friends, we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a Revlon-sponsored party, given free gin and tonics and chatting with tons of well-dressed people from Revlon. How this happened? No idea, but this is Madrid. You find yourself constantly walking into a surprise. I found my first surprise that night actually, after having decided to wear very high heels.... I left my house headed to begin the night at a friend's house, and excitedly walking down the flight of stairs into the metro station, proceeded to fall down every single cement stair. Everyone in the station stared aghast at the "dolled-up" girl that had tumbled down... and two security guards rushed to help me with the most concerned expressions I may ever ever have seen in my life. Simply embarrassed, I replied "Estoy bien! Estoy bien! No pasa nada." Today, I have a few bruises, though am just fine. Sometimes the embarrassment is far worse than the physical pain. Luckily, as most of you know, I do have an exceptional level of pain-tolerance so I can manage to fall down a few flights of stairs and end up good as new.

My new Sunday ritual is to read the entire Sunday newspaper and sip wine in a bar. You can rarely go into a bar without having some kind of a casual chat with a waiter or another customer. People here are fascinated by the fact that I am American. I do get irritated if they want to speak English with me, because I am here to learn Spanish! Now I have learned to just respond in Spanish, no matter what. Anyway, learning I am American, they always want to talk to me. On Thursday, I arrived early to have wine with some friends. The charming waiter asked where I was from. I replied "California." The older woman at the next table overheard and said "Ohhhh California! Que bien!" She was a well-kept 78 year old woman enjoying a whiskey and reading a book. We chatted for some time, and at the end, she wished for me that no Spanish men break my heart and that I meet one that just begs me to never leave Spain. She said she doesn't know anyone my age (no kidding), or else she would set me up in a second. Everyone I meet asks if I have a Spanish boyfriend, and are just incredulous when I say no. Why not? They always ask. Well.... how does one answer that question?