I’ll just let that sentence stand on its own while that sinks in. Someone besides my advisor (and, hopefully, Justin)… actually… read… my… thesis. She was a NYU master’s student last year, and also doing her thesis on self-translation, so there is a logical explanation. But still. I feel absurdly proud.
In other news, I finally made it up to Segovia, where I had a lovely relaxing lunch with Ana María, my old host mother, and her oldest son, Alfredo. Hopefully I’ll get to see the rest of my Segovian siblings one of these days…
By the way, welcome to the new and improved redesigned blog. I had a little too much fun in Photoshop one day and couldn’t resist showing it off. That, and I was tired of pink.
Little kids: still equal parts adorable munchkins and unbearable monsters. One little first grader still shouts “Bruja! Witch!” every time she sees me in the hallway, and one of my second graders still wants to know why I didn’t make myself useful and sweep the floor when I had a broom. Little 5-year-old Paula still tackle-hugs me—usually from behind, when I’m least expecting it.
I went up to Plaza Castilla on a particularly blustery Sunday several weeks ago. It’s the 90th anniversary of Madrid’s metro system, and to celebrate they had an exposition of old Madrid Transit buses. They brought out the old Ford Model T “bus” used in 1914, along with other old, shiny (and not so shiny) models. I know next to nothing about cars, but old ones are pretty. Even clunky buses.
I also have some rather spectacular sunset photos from a 3.5 mile walk I took around town one afternoon. I left the apartment thinking I’d head down just a tiny
ways past Puerta de Toledo to an overlook where I could take some quick pictures of the evening sky. Well, I ended up at the Palacio Real instead, and from there ambled down to Plaza España, and then to Sol, and finally back home again. All of which means nothing to those of you who don’t know Madrid, but let’s just say it was a vigorous walk with a result of 200+ photos. The picture here is actually not from that particular hike (haven't sorted through the photos yet), but I wanted to prove to my Dad that Spain does indeed have beautiful sunsets. Of course, he'll just say I faked it in Photoshop! (It's actually from the Retiro in October.)
And because no blog entry would be complete without a little humiliation, I’ll tell you about last week at school: I actually participated in gym class. I think hell froze over. There was a reason (it would have had to be a good one…): the shyest, quietest girl in the 5th grade class came late and had been crying, and none of the groups playing volleyball made room for her. So instead of watching her sit in the corner and toss the ball up into the air by herself (so disconcertingly familiar…), I grabbed a ball and dragged her over to the net. When a couple other girls came over, I thought “Finally! Now she can play with them and I can escape.” No such luck. They were ready to wander off on their own again if I didn’t stay and play, so I did. And promptly got hit in the back of the head by a volleyball launched from the opposite end of the gym. Some things never change. Okay, you can stop laughing now. Really.
And now for Only in Spain (Culinary Edition):
- ham-flavored potato chips.
- calamari (either fried or in a sauce made from its own ink) for lunch… in the school cafeteria. Did I mention school lunches have two courses?
- a late October/early November pastry: huesos de santo. Yep. Saint’s bones. (Picture to the right)
- of course, now that there’s a slight chill in the air, the chestnut roasters have come out to take over busy street corners with their delectable smells wafting through the air. Some deluxe stands also have roasted yams and corn on the cob.
- Even Burker King closes on Sundays.
- Not quite an “only in Spain” moment, but I am ridiculously happy that I got several a pound of Clementines and five pounds of potatoes, plus several peppers, kiwis, and
bananas, for under $5. Hooray for fruterías! The picture is one of the 4 fruit stores within a 4-block radius of my apartment. And they already know me there...
And let’s not forget its brand new (and less auspicious) companion program, Lessons from the Culinarily Challenged. This week’s episode may be short, but I have no doubt that there will be further installments.
- My roommate Lidia gave me a great idea for what to do with leftover, mushy bananas: fry them up with some sugar and a tiny bit of cognac. Sounds delicious, right? Well, let’s just say that plum-flavored brandy makes a veeery odd substitute for the cognac (which, it turns out, we actually did have, and I was just too dumb to recognize it in the cupboard). Ah well. Plum-flavored bananas. Mmmm.
