


So after a week, I’m really starting to adjust… Maybe not so much to the cold shower hose contraption thingy, but to other things. Today was very nice… I woke up in the morning and took some time to relax and a little while after, Laura asked if I wanted to go grab a little appetizer and a drink at this little seafood restaurant/bar down the street. Of course I was game… Before we were able to leave however Edson returned home from the Rastro (think of it as a large open air flea market) where he was supposed to buy a part for a lamp… Well it turns out that Edson didn’t have enough money to buy the part that he eventually found because he spent some of it on food for himself while out… Needless to say, Laura got a little peeved and there I was standing in the living/dining room while mommy and daddy were fighting… Awkward flashbacks to childhood (just kidding mom & dad, you know I don’t mean it). So I retreated to my room a little for a while. After Laura was done reaming out Edson we headed out.
This bar was wonderful… The seafood was some of the freshest and most flavorful that I have ever eaten. We started with some fried calamari, toasted bread with anchovies and tomatoes then moved on to the little baby clams covered with olive oil, garlic, and lemon (yum!) Then the owner treated us to some salt cured tuna (a very expensive delicacy) which was also extremely delicious. We each had 2 beers and discussed many a topic (the conversation did get a little awkward when I asked if she had kids… A sore subject? Maybe. Why? I don’t know, but I don’t intend to investigate it any further…) Afterwards we went back to the apartment and had lunch (THEY EAT SO MUCH HERE). Post lunch I headed to what has in a short time become my favorite place in Madrid, Retiro Park.
Not only had I spent about 7 hours on Saturday sitting by a magical little fountain reading, but I went back today. This time however, my friends and I met up for a little “Homework on the Green” if you will… It was a very nice afternoon. I had enough time to finish my homework and finish my book (Cell by Stephen King… Good post-apocalyptic quick read… Now I’m finally gunna finish Harry Potter) Dinner (at 9:30) was couscous and then I read until bed… Not a bad day if I do say so myself…
So Sundays can work, if and only if you know how to use them….
First and foremost, may it be good new year. Now… Let’s discuss my Rosh Hashanah. You all know me by now… Sometimes I get myself into awkward situations unintentionally… Well this was certainly one of those times…. Friday afternoon I had called around attempting to find somewhere to spend the holidays (I’m not one to miss them and especially this year) so I found the Jewish Center in Madrid. They said I was welcome to come as long as I brought my passport. Fine. So I went.
Allowing myself the “Jason gets lost for at least 30 minutes whenever he goes somewhere” grace period, I headed out pretty early to get to services. When I arrived at the street, there was a large building with no address on it but a man standing in front of it. Oh! Did I mention that the entire street was barricaded by police, yeah, that too… So I walk up to this man and asked “Is this number 3?” He said, “Why do you want to know? What are you here for?” I sheepishly reply “Rosh Hashanah services…” He said “One moment” and proceeded to open the door and take me inside.
Once inside I was asked to hand over my passport answer a large round of questions, empty my pockets and get patted down before being allowed to enter the synagogue… After I was inside I got lost… SURPRISE! Even in a building, I can still get lost… While I was finally walking up the correct set of stairs I heard a voice from behind me in Spanish ask, “Hello. What’s your name?” Long story short I answer and find out the this young man is also an American who happens to be from Chicago and is here on a Fulbright scholarship translating Hebrew texts into Spanish… Yep… Oh, and he’s also a librarian (somebody’s racking up the cool points) Anywho, as he’s the only other American in the place, I stick with him. While waiting for services he asks, “So do you normally go to orthodox?” and I replied with , “I knew it… I knew this was going to be orthodox… Actually no, I’m pretty much reform…” Also I’m an Ashkenazi and these were (of course) Sephardic services. I decided then that it would be interesting to observe a completely different tradition. And it certainly was: The chants are all different, different prayers are recited, there was not English let alone Spanish in sight for the entire time- just Hebrew. Most interesting moment of the service: Madrid is in the center of Spain so there’s no body of water nearby. Therefore we went and did Taslich (sp?) in front of a running faucet… Yep… Look at us Jews being so crafty J. Anyway, after the service (which was not nearly as long as I expected it to be) I headed out to start of the new year right…
I wanted to take a moment to address an issue that I seem to be having. Breakfast, why you gotta be so big? Seriously though… When I’m home breakfast might be some cereal, maybe a granola bar, once in a while a sandwich, and super rarely some sort of waffle or pancake… But here, well let’s just say things are a little different…
Every morning I wake up to an absolutely ginormous morning meal that, although it might not sound that filling it most definitely is (especially when you’re avoiding using the toilet at home for certain things… But I digest. I mean digress) Waiting on my Coca-Cola® Christmas elf tray in the kitchen is a large bowl of muesli with Laura’s homemade (I think) yogurt on top (there was something about a jar of cultures in the cabinet that she puts milk in every week, I dunno…) Now we’re not talking your sissy-ass American granola here. This stuff is filled with whole nuts and dried fruit as well as grains and comes in a bowl (I kid you not) the size of my head. Next to the muesli, we have a mug of tea usually accompanied by a whole pot of tea which I still haven’t figured out if I’m supposed to finish or not… Okay, fine. But next we have the killer: the orange juice (if you can call it that). Laura, bless her heart, every morning squeezes two oranges for me and makes juice. However after the juice has been extracted from the oranges, the pulp goes right back into the glass… Imagine, if you will, trying to drink a lowball full of pulp. Seriously this is no different than just eating two oranges except the happen to be all mushed up and in a glass… By the time I’m done eating as much as I can (because I’m still not so sure if I’ll offend anyone by throwing something out) I’m full and almost ready to burst (remember I’m not really using the bathroom at the apartment… You saw the pictures… And plus the walls are paper thin). So yep… There you have it. A close up on my typical Spanish breakfast. Thanks for listening to me rant a bit…
Until next time.