5 Things in Madrid, España

           The Maury Povich show was a 90´s tabloid talk show, and public access channels play re-runs during the day time back in my home town.  Every so often, amid topics of teenage pregnancy, makeovers, phobias, and disfiguring illnesses, they had a rather poignant episode about a paternity dispute where a young mother tries to find her baby’s biological father. The mother tells her story, which is always rather depressing, about how the father impregnated her with a one night stand, or ran away with another woman, with absolutely nothing, not even a kiss good bye. The proposed father comes on stage, ushered in by ‘boos’ from the crowd, and the bouncers ritually hold back the mother from mauling the dad. After some heated debate, death threats, an ocean of bleeped out words, in addition to general sassiness from the audience, they finally reveal the results of the paternity test. Sometimes, it turns out that the dead beat dad is not the father at all. The mother is incredibly surprised, because she turns out to be just as promiscuous as the father. The look on the young mother’s face when Maury announces that the dad is in fact, “not the father” reeks of betrayal, shock, and blatant “dumbounded-ness,” if that is even a word. I´m pretty sure that´s not a real word, but no one can deny that this is 90´s daytime television at it’s absolute peak.

Well, long story short, when I told my Cataluñan friends that I was going to Madrid for the weekend, it was if Maury had just read them the paternity test results, and I was in fact not their baby’s daddy all along. I have never in my life seen faces with such twisted accusations of betrayal, shock, and surprise, among others. My friend simultaneously dropped his fork and jaw to the floor while eating lunch when I told him the news. My roommate stiffened and froze and warned me about the dangers awaiting me in Madrid when I dropped the proverbial ´bomb´on her. I’m also pretty sure someone might have given me some sort of strike on my Visa for being a ‘traitor’ back at that damn Visa office.

Cataluña and Madrid are rivals in everything from fútbol to the historically seeded political battle for Cataluñan autonomy and subjugation of the Catálan culture. Until now, I had only seen it from the side of Barcelona, the passionate and somewhat zealous heart and capital of Cataluña. Cataluña has always been the underdog to Spain, and professors and students at my university made an annoyingly firm stance at teaching and speaking in Catalan. Don’t forget that FCB isn´t just a fútbol club, but a militia that fights for Cataluña with goals instead of guns. Upon leaving for Madrid, I thought that this zealous brand of patriotism, was (dare I say it) a bit over the top, to be completely honest. After all, I came to Spain to learn Spanish, and frankly Barcelona seemed like a more interesting version of Madrid with better weather (i.e. Mediterranean beach). It turns out that Spanish is a whole lot different than Catálan, and the cultures have their differences as well. Madrid’s  royal majesty helped unfold a whole other chapter of the story that I hadn´t learned about in Barcelona, helping to explain the story of Cataluña that has been muddled (and a slight challenge) through letters like “Ç” and outspoken fútbol fans. My trip to Madrid helped clear some of the muck in the murky waters of the Cataluña-Spain debate, but until I get into the guts and glory of the Cataluña and Spain debate, my 5 things from Madrid are just shameless pleasures from the Spanish culture, like tapas and the royal legacy of Spain.

1) Tapas

Before coming to Madrid, I was told stories, bordering fables, of Tapas piles so high that you couldn't even reach the top in a multi-pitch, Everest-like ascent.  Naturally, with tapas edging out Penelope Cruz in my favorite things about Spain, my one goal in Madrid became to find and conquer this so called ‘montón’ of tapas. With the help of a few friends and some ambition, I did exactly that.

This is a bad picture from the first restaurant, "El Tigre." I wasn't concerned about taking pictures, or the deer head on the wall for that matter, I had tapas to take care of. After that, We were all nice and squished together making new friends in a fine establishment named ´Respiro,´ while enjoying the fine Spanish art and delicacy of tapas.

2) Art

           I like to explain Madrid by telling people that Paris is to France as Madrid is to Spain. Besides being capitals of their respective countries, Madrid and Paris also epitomize their respective cultures. Long before America´s reign at the top of the ladder, British supremacy during the Industrial Revolution, Napolean and the glory of the French renaissance, Spain enjoyed a few centuries as the most powerful country in the world with it´s vast overseas empire, Armadas, and the Inquisition. The Spanish royal family, and it´s respective culture therefore led to a rich and prominent collection of art and cultural history, which one can see in Madrid at museums like El Prado and Reina Sofia. Some paintings, like Velasquez's "Las meninas"(considered by many to be the best painting, ever) shows insight into life into what it might be like to live in one of the most powerful familes to have ever lived, while others show the horrors of civil war, like Picasso's "La Guernica," or Goya's "The Third of May, 1808." Overall, for me, these two museums were the highlights of my trip to Madrid, with Goya´s haunting and thought provoking ´black paintings´ being a cherry on top of my weekend in Madrid.

3) Parque Retiro

   Madrid, like most big cities in Europe, is a huge metropolitan hub that never siestas, or even sleeps for that matter. Unlike silent suburban blocks in America and empty parks, people actually use the parks and public spaces in Europe. Musicians, children, and the elderly all escape from cramped apartment living and spread out in sprawling parks and plazas.

   Parque Retiro is the go-to choice for Madrid parks, and it was easy to see why. Not only did this parque have a ´Harry Potter-esque´ section called ‘El Bosque de Buen Recuerdo´(Forest of good memory) but a man-made lake filled with row boats, in addition to a ´crystal palace,´ complete with black swans. Besides feeling like I was in a set from "The chronicles of Narnia," It was impossible to take bad pictures at this place, and there was a tranquility in the air that I hadn´t felt since Cadiz.

4) Toledo

“Holy Toledo!” I said shamelessly, upon stepping out of the bus onto some of the world´s oldest cobblestone streets, on our excursion to what is considered to be the world's most well-preserved, midevil city, Toledo. I ended up saying “Holy Toledo,” among other explicatives, about 12 to 13 times that day, mostly in reference to the swords I saw in gift shop windows next to full suits of armor. Back in the day, Toledo was the capital of Spain and point of embarkment for guys like Don Quixote, while Madrid was just beginning as a small humble military barracks protecting Toledo. Now, their main export is swords and armor. Personally, I think it's an improvement.

5) Temple Debod

Just when you think you've seen everything that Madrid has to offer, you stumble upon an ancient Egyptian temple, that overlooks a nantional park. Temple Debod everyone, a round of applause.

My first Spanish tortilla (pretty much a fancy omelette)

   Overall, Madrid was great because it gave me an opportunity to reassess why I came to Spain in the first place – to learn Spanish, and immerse myself in Spanish culture. My friends in Madrid are living and learning everything Spanish, with their nightly tapas, royal plazas, palaces and sprawling parks, except one thing. An unfortunate, and rather neglected side of Spanish culture are the centuries of oppression and subjugation of other cultures, like the Aztecs in the Americas, and the Cataluñans here in Barcelona. It’s hard to see something like oppression until you see it from the top, where it originated, and the bottom, where it happens. I saw it every day in Barcelona from the bottom, with subtle flags of protest hanging from balconies, road signs in catálan, and FCB. Now, I finally got the chance to see if from the top, with Madrid’s austere sense of nobility and monarchical control of Spain, and the world. Very few people get the opportunity to learn and live about a colonial empire, or dictatorship from the subjugated minority, and well, here I am, doing just that in the ´party capital´of Barcelona. It´s not just a year long vacation anymore, it´s a chance to learn about a side Spain than I had ever originally intended, and I welcome the challenge.

Word of the Day: (It's about time I change this to Palabra del día)

Palabra del día:Aprender - To learn
Aprendí como cocinar Tortilla Española. I learned how to make Spanish Tortilla.