Real Madrid

This Tuesday night, I went a Real Madrid partido (the one of the best soccer team in Spain) along with over 80.000 (yes, in Spain we use periods instead of commas) futbol fans, curious tourists, and aggravated students who were there due to peer pressure (hombre, venga! it´s Real MADRID!). As I was on my way to the Santiago Bernabeu stadium, I already could feel the excitement in the air with the metro packed with people and street venders selling Real Madrid t-shirt/scarves as you exit the metro (those scarfs are rather guay and I cannot wait to get my hands on one at the Rastro where I can bargain the price down to like 5 euros).

After 30 minutes of fiasco of finding/meeting up with people/getting lost, my friends and I finally made it inside. Because we bought our tickets literally 3 hours before the game, we got separated and I sat next to a huge group of crazy Real Madrid socios (those who have a Real Madrid membership - they get permanent seats and guaranteed tickets to each game). As I was still trying to figure out which team is which and who´s who and who´s what number (oooooohhhh... so I was at a Real Madrid v. Getafe game....now which color is which team?), the socios next to me pulled out their cigarettes and sunflower seeds. The game started.

The first half of the game was sort of yawn and I re-checked my ticket to make sure that I actually was in a Real Madrid game. The players were not even running but power-walking across the field, and the first goal was wait-so-what-just-happened-and-stop-smoking-in-my-face type...The goal is 0:1 with Gatefe leading. Fans of Real Madrid all noticed this lack of energy and kept on screaming things like "Joder! Ostria! Inutil! Hombre, venga! Jo!" and a lot more "joder!!!!"s. Players of the Getafe game kept on collapsing on to the field, holding on a limb in great amount of pain. I still have not figured out whether that´s part of their strategy of preventing Real Madrid from winning or are they just really weak or were the Real Madrid players just muscular bullies in high school. The guys sitting next to me offered me a cigarrete as I was munching my healthy pear, and I had to awkwardly reject his kindness as he sort of glared at my fruit (apparently no one eats fruits at futbol games....oops...well. I was sick that day and I needed my vitamins). He then offered me some sunflower seeds as I was still munching on my healthy pear (it wasn´t big.. I was just eating reaaaaaaaaaaally slowly), and I had to awkwardly reject his kindness again as he sort of chuckled at my fruit. Oh yeah, and Real Madrid lamely scored a goal in between moments of awkness...fans screamed and the score is now 1:1.

During the 15 minutes break, the guys sitting next to me saw that I had finally finished my pear and attempted to offer me a piece of his gigantic bocadillo (sandwich without salad and anything with fiber). I didn´t want to offend them anymore and the bocadillo did look pretty damn good, so I thanked them and took it. They also gave me some beer, and I must say, it was a good dinner. I tried talking to them about the game, but they just start cussing at the players and screaming things like "ostaria!" - which I could swear is the word for communion.... they also smoked non-stop in between their bocadillos.

The second half of the game started, and oh dear, Real Madrid woke up. Players started running and passing the ball to each other (rather than to the other team), and the score soon became 2:2. Real Madrid scored during the last minute of the game, and the entire stadium was electrified! People waving their flags and scarves, men hugging each other in tears, and everyone singing some Real Madrid song, of which the only word I could discern was "madrid.." Oh, and some more Gatefe players got injured along the way.. but it was all good at the end.

por fin... and the longest office hours of my life

So after 2 months of procrastination, I finally managed to get this blog started, inspired by a trip to the house of Tomas, my Spain and the Progress of European Union professor. He's a quirky fellow who enjoys speaking English sporadically in his lectures and who always talks about Stalin and Hitler sharing the same bed (in reference to their brief alliance during WWII). If he was a bit fatter, he would look like Peter from Family Guy, and I say that with the most amount of respect and love.

Anyways, so I had to go to his house for office hours and dude, it was tan rara. It literally is a tiny museum and en serio, most of the decorations and furniture in that little espacio of his are from the 16th century. In his study room, he has a desk from the 1700's, a portrait of the grandmother of the current queen of Spain to a Spanish count (whose great grand-son also happens to be Tomas's good friend) some centuries ago, some wooden chairs that could fall apart any second (and yes, they are valuable antiques too), a HUGE portrait of angles and saints hanging on his wall. There's also a chandelier from some centuries back, illuminating these otherwise somber objects in all their glory.

In his living room, he has countless candle holders, potteries, porcelain plates, handmade maps, and a HUGE mirror that was handmade like 250 years ago. It was used by a Spanish count (probably the same one) in Vermont during the American Revolution, and apparently, George Washington and his buddies lived right next door to this Spanish count and often visited his house. Tomas proudly dragged me in front of the mirror and pointed, "look! You are standing where George Washington was!" My most patriotic moment happened in Spain.

He fed me fruits and coffee, and two hours later, I was finally allowed to leave.