For my introduction to music class, we have to attend four concerts and turn in reflections on the performance as a part of our grade. It just dawned on me that I could just as well share them here. Why not, right? Keep in mind that they are a bit academic sounding because I didn’t feel like re-writing them for my devout blog audience. Forgive me. I have them posted on a separate page because they are out of their chronological location.

My fourth concert is at the end of this month with my favorite violinist, Nigel Kennedy. There was quite an ordeal purchasing the ticket, but that’s all solved. Watch for my post on the performance later! And, I might add, he’s known for being a bit radical with his interpretations and approach to classical music. Note the mohawk, frumpy suit, and if you’re really good you can catch the subtleties in his style of playing the classics in, for example, this performance.

I am sure most of you don’t want to hear it, but I have been pleasantly surprised to find that I am not always cold here like I am at home.  (In Spanish there’s a term for this, ‘frilajera,’ but there isn’t really a good English translation for the word. ) Even in summer or buildings where the rest of the room is sweating the pounds off, I have managed to be cool or just comfortable.  I just assumed it was something with how my body distributed heat or a biological defect that will forever be a part of my sweater-filled life, but Madrid has proven me wrong.

In the last week alone, I can think of at least three times where I was stripping layers off or changing from long sleeves into one of the few t-shirts I actually brought with me.  This really is remarkable, considering I am frequently chastised for not taking my coat off when I come inside simply because I need the extra warmth.

I am a firm believer in the spirit-lifting qualities of sunshine and blue skies.  They make pictures more beautiful and travel in all forms easier.  (I know this way too well from my adventures these past months.)  The parks are full of people looking for a place to enjoy the weather and the restaurants get more business with their street side tables.  Of course, energy costs are less and less harmful.  The windows are open so houses and buildings have fresh air circulating and at night the cool air is perfect for sleeping without waking-up stuffy.  It may come as a surprise to some, but there was a study about how the air was actually cleaner in a hospital with the windows open than all the fancy technological systems trying to do the same thing.  Nature trumps all again.

Despite my pale skin and greasy, smelly sunscreen filled childhood, I am a self-declared sun lover.  I do realize that my argument is a bit pointless, though, because we can’t all go out and buy some sunshine from our local hardware store to get all these benefits, but I can rave about it and sing John Denver, can’t I?

Maybe it’s because Madrid’s heat is a different kind of heat than Philly, Michigan, Minnesota, Chicago (all the places I have lived)?  A rational thought might be that I am a bit closer to the equator (by about 1 degree) or the heat is drier (drought is a huge problem here).  Or perhaps because my temperature is more constant throughout the day from being in rooms with the windows open all the time instead of going into freezing air-conditioned buildings and back outside.  I do not know, but I appreciate the warm sunshine (I haven’t seen snow in a long time; all the storms came after I left for Spain) and I am glad to know that one less should-be-normal function of my body works.

Last Wednesday I submitted some photos into our school-sponsored contest. I spent more time than I liked to admit choosing the 5 we were allowed to submit and writing their corresponding captions, but my fingers are crossed. There are cash prizes, but I would be more than happy with just having the honor of someone else appreciating my photos as more than memories of a semester abroad, especially because I am so new at this whole photo-capturing business. I have included the descriptions I submitted in the caption section for each photo (you have to click on the link to get to the photo). In a similar vein, I also submitted to the school’s glossy-paged literary magazine and I think the editor confirmed that I will have some photos in the Spring edition.

Bocadillo Break

Garlic Merchant

Wooden Staircase in Torre degli Asinelli

Flag Bearer

Semana Santa de Cuenca

Update: Second Prize for Garlic Merchant!

I was home for a few hours, recovering from the inevitable backlog of things to think about from traveling when the son of my hosts popped his head in my room to ask how my trip was. Before I could even respond with my broken Spanish about the fine treatment I had in Brussels, a little fuzzy, chirpping duckling jumped out from behind the slightly ajar door. You got it, a duckling.

He was kayaking somewhere on Saturday and saw it alone, so he and his grandfather decided to take it home with the intention of bringing it to their farm in the pueblo after it got a bit bigger. Oswaldo (or was it Waldo? their accents sometimes get me) jumped all around the house and followed the son everywhere he went like Mary and her lambs or the movie Fly Away Home. Despite the family’s initial misgivings and the jealousy of the dog, he was so adorable they couldn’t turn him away.

Sadly, when I came back from school yesterday to get a good picture of the new family member, we found out that Oswaldo didn’t make it through the afternoon. Three days of bouncing off beds and sofas to follow the son, stealing the attention of every camera and cellphone in the house, and living in a cardboard box that he could nearly jump through the handle of–all on a diet of bread crumbs soaked in water–I think he probably had a bit too much excitement in his life. What a cutie, but some things just aren’t supposed to be inside.

D.E.P. (R.I.P. in Spanish)
All who wish may visit his grave sight in the park near our house.

Believe it or not, 5 euro flights really exist. To get to Belgium to visit the family of my friends (their siblings) I took a .01 cent flight with 4.99 in taxes. Granted, I did land in an airport an hour outside the city and did online check-in with carry-on luggage only and had to pay 50 euros to get back to Madrid, it was still a cheap flight for the weekend. Not that I am complaining, but the family really spoiled me with everything from the homemade meals and luxurious guest room to their willingness to show me around Brugge and Brussels. I didn’t have to think for even a second and my nose was far from being buried in a map.

As a result of such royal treatment, I of course love the city even more, but even without it I would have still liked the buildings and atmosphere in the Grand Place, the canals and Medieval architecture in Brugge, and most certainly the waffles, mussels, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, and did I say chocolate? I also visited Waterloo, where there’s this hill with a lion on top symbolizing peace in Europe and a rotunda with a circular mural and sound effects to re-create the battlefield.

I came in on Thursday and left on Monday morning (landed at noon and got to class with my luggage and such by 2, no problem), so I got a real feel of what it’s like to live in Belgium. Of note are the mix/clash of languages in French, Flemmish, and even a bit of German, its small size (think Maryland), and that there is a countryside with very narrow roads (so much so that people often have to back-up for another Smart car to get past). Since I was not nearly as productive as I hoped to be over Easter Break, I did have a paper. presentation, and an exam to do while I was there , so I did not do as much as I would have liked (for example, visit Amsterdam or Germany), but I am happy to report that I at least received excellent grades on those projects, so my regret is not killing me.

Since I was in the company of the family or their friends the entire time, I did not seek the companionship I normally have in my camera, so I do not have as many pictures as normal. That, and the weather was kind of dreary–always seems to happen to me when I leave the warmth and sunshine we have in Madrid.